Meanwhile, our tents are being pitched. We smooth out the soft sand to make a comfortable bed. We have brought fuel with us, and with this a fire is made. Guards are stationed, and we sleep with our guns near our hands. The Mohammedans in our party, after first rubbing their faces and hands with sand because water is not to be had, kneel in prayer.
During the day the sun beats upon us with almost unbearable heat, and as there are no clouds in the sky, the sun's rays, striking against the white sand, almost blind us, while to make things more uncomfortable, the camels raise a thick dust. We understand now why the Arabs wear cloths about their heads. We follow their example, and cut slits in the cloths for eyes and nose. After the sun goes down it is better for traveling.
It is lucky for us that we are sailors and used to a rolling motion, for the motion of the camel is like that of a ship.
A sand storm comes. A small black cloud arises and grows till in a short time it has half covered the sky. The sand begins to blow, and beats into our faces like hail. We stop the caravan; the camels kneel; and fighting off terror, we lie down with our faces in the ground beside the beasts. The blowing sand is so thick that it hides the sun.
The storm passes quickly. There has been, for all the blackness of the clouds, no drop of rain.
After the sun goes down, the air becomes cool and blankets are needed. The sky is full of low-hanging stars and the moon is big and mellow.
Once in a while we meet a wandering tribe that moves from green place to green place with their animals, living in tents of camels'-hair cloth. "Aleikoom salaam!" (Peace be with you!) they call to us, bobbing up and down on their camels. "Salaam aleikoom!" (With you be peace!) we answer. Bands of robbers appear in the distance. At the oases we meet farmers who are not given to roving. They have priests and sheiks, and worship in mosques, and raise grain and vegetables. Once in a while a hospitable sheik roasts a kid on a stick and invites us to dine. Fingers are forks here. We find it so highly seasoned with red pepper that our mouths burn and our eyes water.
The approach of a caravan is picturesque and exciting. First you hear a moaning sound like the wailing of a strong wind through a clump of trees. Then a cloud appears on the horizon. In a few moments you see that this cloud is of dust, and that in its midst are scores of camels. The rumbling noise you heard is found to be merely the gurgling sound that camels make.
It was also interesting to observe a caravan go into camp. The foreleg of each camel was folded and tied to keep the beast from wandering; baby camels, their white coats contrasting strongly with the dark brown color of their parents' coats, knelt by their hobbled mothers.
The owners of the camels busied themselves in driving stakes for their tents, while the women occupied themselves by arranging the palanquins in which they and their little ones traveled on the backs of the camels. These palanquins are no more or less than woolen tents made of red blankets supported on the camels' backs by a framework of tree branches. The camel's hump is wrapped around by woolen stuffs and on each side of the hump a woman sits, surrounded by babies and bundles, but protected by the canopy from the sun.