*
Mr Evans galloped into the city of Sana'a in a cloud of dust just as the prayer was about to begin. His horse was tired and worn out, beads of sweat glistening off its broad neck. Mr Evans did not relent however. He dug his heels into the horse, forcing it forward.
The streets were not so crowded, just as he had anticipated. A few children were playing in one street, laughing and running as they tried to avoid one particular boy from touching them. Whomever he caught successfully then became the one who had to chase them around.
Meanwhile, several women were hurrying to the market, carrying small baskets which they placed on their hips as they walked and talked. A woman in front of him had slung her baby sideways from her back so she could breastfeed him as she walked. The other wom
