Strangers have drifted into camp.
The caravan, at the time, is settled among a sea of wonderful sand-dunes; Erg land of the Sahara. We have found, in lake-like basins between the dunes, some good Alwat for the camels, and are inclined to delay so that the animals may benefit.
Hitherto no sign of human life had been seen—and now these men, who have followed in on our tracks.
Their camels are splendid, and elaborately saddled. They dismount on a dune crest overlooking the camp. There are four of them. The senior is a small, sharp-eyed man dressed like a prosperous Arab, while the others are tall, strangely gross-looking, and less dignified.
THE WAYFARER’S POSSESSIONS
Ordinarily their presence would be accepted without question, but my suspicions are aroused because they are curiously furtive, and have suddenly appeared in a wild region where not expected.
Joining us, they profess to be traders, and have a few trivial things about their persons to offer. Questioned as to where they have come from, and whence proceeding, their answers are evasive and contradictory. However, we elicit the information that the name of the senior man is Myram, and that he is a native of Ghat.
They remained some hours; long enough to appraise all we possessed, and our strength. In the evening they departed, heading north.
They were no sooner gone than my camel-men came forward to ask me to be careful through the night. “Those men were robbers,” they declared; “there will be others at hand.”