140 THE DOWNFALL OF THE DERVISHES many of my colleagues around me showed that they were not so comfortably bedded. Some had not brought waterproofs with them; others had packed their tents over night. There is an undeniable satisfaction during a heavy shower in feeling that one is on the right side of a window pane, and witnessing the hurried passage along a street of dripping pedestrians ; and as | heard the rain beating down upon the tent canvas drawn over my bed, I experienced the same sort of selfish complacency. Clothed as I was in a kharki suit and boots, and covered over with a blanket, a mackintosh, and the waterproof canvas, I felt as if I was being boiled alive; but still I was safe from any moisture ad extra. Nemesis, however, was close upon me in my splendid isolation. I made a slight movement of my hand under the rug, and instantly felt a sharp prick in the palm. At the same moment, on the inside of the canvas within six inches of my face, appeared a large scorpion. I had evidently disturbed the beast, which stung me and then ran up the canvas. I felt perfectly horrified for a moment.

The idea that the scorpion ntight run over my face was sickening. Fancy the effects of a