238 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



** Whoo-whoop ! Whoo-whoop ! " 



A minute brought up the rest of the field — seven 

 in all. 



" Where are we ? " asked somebody. 



" Why, this is close to the Higueron 1 " was the 

 answer. 



An eight-mile point — some minutes under the three- 

 quarters of an hour. Good enough for the Shires ! 



Yes, there, not far below us, lay the Mediterranean. 

 Our run had taken us almost from sea to sea. Of 

 course there was no chance of realising our fox. The 

 pick and crowbar brigade were many a mile away. 

 All we could think of was the way home. The mid- 

 winter day was drawing to a close. We made for the 

 first tower on the eastern beach. From thence it was 

 plain sailing. El Cuerpo ^ lay before us, sharply 

 outlined against the evening sky. 



1 The Corpse — the Spanish name for the Kock of Gibraltar. 



