“Which is the East?” said Jane, dancing about in her agony of terror.
Nobody knew. So they opened the fish-bag to ask the Psammead.
And the bag had only a waterproof sheet in it.
The Psammead was gone.
“Hide the sacred thing! Hide it! Hide it!” whispered the girl.
Cyril shrugged his shoulders, and tried to look as brave as he knew he ought to feel.
“Hide it up, Pussy,” he said. “We are in for it now. We’ve just got to stay and see it out.”
CHAPTER V.
THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE
Here was a horrible position! Four English children, whose proper date was A.D. 1905, and whose proper address was London, set down in Egypt in the year 6000 B.C. with no means whatever of getting back into their own time and place. They could not find the East, and the sun was of no use at the moment, because some officious person had once explained to Cyril that the sun did not really set in the West at all—nor rise in the East either, for the matter of that.
The Psammead had crept out of the bass-bag when they were not looking and had basely deserted them.