The work was done.
With an ache in his heart, Kenkenes returned to Deborah and Rachel.
"The shelter for us is in the cliff to the north, near Toora," he began immediately. "It is a tomb, but others before us have partaken of the dead's hospitality." [1]
"How am I to reach it?" Deborah asked. "Is the place far?"
"A good hour's journey, but we go by water. Still, we must walk to the
Nile."
"That I can not do," the old woman declared.
"Nay, but I can carry you," Kenkenes replied, bending over her. She shrank away from him.
"Thou hast forgotten," she protested.
"Not so," he insisted stoutly. Taking her up, he settled her on one strong arm against his breast. The free hand he extended to Rachel, who had taken the matting, and together they went laboriously down the steep front of the hill. They proceeded cautiously, watching before and behind them lest they be surprised.
He had covered his boat well with the tangle of sedge and marsh-vines, and after a long space of search, he found it.