The merchant said the other camels were of too good a kind, and of too much value; while, as to this young boy, what business had he to have a camel of his own?
It would be better far, they said, for him to lose his camel than for him to die, like the rest, of thirst. And so it was decided that Meek-eye should be killed, unless water were found the next morning.
Ali slept no more. His heart was full of grief; but his grief was mixed with courage and resolution. He said to himself that Meek-eye should not die.
His father had trusted him to bring the camel, and what would he say if he should arrive at Suez without it? He would try to find his way alone, and leave the caravan as soon as possible.
That night when all was quiet, and the merchant and camel-driver had gone to sleep, Ali arose, and gently patting the neck of Meek-eye, awoke him.
He placed his empty bag and water-bottles on his back, and seating himself on him, made signs for the creature to rise, and then suddenly started off.
Tramp, tramp, tramp, went Meek-eye over the soft sand. The night was cool and refreshing, and Ali felt stronger and braver with every tramp. The stars were shining brightly, and they were his only guides.
He knew the star which was always in the north, and the one which was in the west after the sun had gone down. He must keep that star to the right, and he would be sure to be going towards the south.
He journeyed on till day began to dawn. The sun came up on the edge of the desert, and rose higher and higher. Ali felt faint, weary, and thirsty, and could scarcely hold himself on to Meek-eye. When he thought of his father and mother, he took courage again, and bore up bravely.
The sun was now at its height. Ali fancied he saw a palm-tree in the distance. It seemed as if Meek-eye saw it also, for he raised his head and quickened his step.