There has been an accident,' I explained to Abdullah, who was staring at Nemo's bloody sleeve. 'Please take Ali or Hassan and go at once to the ridge behind the tents. You will find a dead body there. Carry it here.' Abdullah clapped his hand to his brow. 'Not a dead man, sitt. Not another dead man ...' A flicker of reviving hope returned to his stricken face. 'Is it a mummy you mean, sitt? An old dead man?' 'I am afraid this one is rather fresh,' I admitted. 'You had better fashion a litter or something of that sort with which to carry him. Get on with it, if you please; I cannot stand here fahddling with you, can't you see Mr Nemo needs medical attention?' Abdullah staggered off, wringing his hands and muttering. A few words were intelligible: 'Another dead body. Every year it is the same. Every year, another dead body ...