The next day saw the party climbing homewards, up again to the raised beaches far above the ancient lake, up past the level where the Eosiren was found, up past the level of the ancient temple, up the great cliffs which marked the ages during which the sea had rolled over them, up to the levels of the ancient river deposits and then over the long miles to where the peaked outline of the distant tents held out the promise of a welcome. Yet it was the evening of the third day before they reached it, fifty-eight hours since they had left the camp, of which thirty hours had actually been spent on camel-back.
“You’re a seasoned traveler now, Perry,” his uncle said, as the camel sank to its knees and the boy clambered painfully out of the saddle, “seventy-five miles in fifty-eight hours is quite a feat.”
“It was great,” said Perry, “and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. What’s a little ache in one’s bones compared to doing a stunt like that!”
“After the work comes the fun,” put in Antoine. Then, turning to the leader of the expedition, he continued:
“Dr. Hunt, Mahmud Abd-el-Baqui, one of the chief Arab Sheikhs, is in the neighborhood. He sent a messenger this morning and when I told him that you were expected home to-night, he said that he would call. Mr. Wyr says that he is quite an important chieftain and that we ought to receive him with some ceremony.”
“I feel more inclined for a rest than for ceremony,” the scientist replied frankly, “but of course we’ll do whatever is the proper thing on such occasions. Will you do me the favor of giving me your advice, Mr. Wyr? I am quite uninformed as to the procedure in such matters in Egypt.”
The Government Survey expert smiled.
“I jolly well knew you’d want me to look after such questions in your absence,” he answered, “and I’ve made arrangements for a feast.”
“Do you suppose he will bring a party, then?”
“Rather!” the other answered. “Mahmud Abd-el-Baqui wouldn’t stir without an armed escort. He’s a Bedouin, remember.”