Frank took a firm hold in accordance with instructions, and it was well that he did so, for otherwise he would have been sent tumbling over the animal’s head.
The camel rose on its hind feet first, and Frank was hurled forward on his back. Just as he succeeded in grasping the camel about the neck, the animal lifted his front feet and Frank went hurling back again. Only his tight hold saved him from being thrown.
“Great Scott!” he ejaculated. “This is worse than a sea voyage.”
“You are all right now,” called Hetherington from the back of his own camel.
“You will soon get used to it,” declared Jack. “Come, follow me,” and he headed his camel toward the west.
All morning they rode along without interruption. Several times they passed riders going in the opposite direction, but they did not halt. At noon they stopped in a little grove of trees, where they ate of the provisions Jack had packed on the camels and quenched their thirst from a tiny and sparkling stream. Then they continued their journey.
Darkness had fallen when they made out in the distance the little town of Nalut. The camels now quickened their pace and the little cavalcade was soon within the city.
“The first thing to do,” said Hetherington, “is to find a place to put up for the night.”
“I know of a place I believe we can find shelter,” said Jack, leading the way.
Presently they came upon a fairly large house near the center of the town. Jack went up to the door and knocked loudly. An old man, with snowy white hair, answered the knock.