“I suppose so,” said the Major; “but my horse trembles so, that I had better dismount for a little while, that he may recover himself; indeed, so had you too and Omrah, for the animals are completely worn-out.”
“The clouds are rising again,” said Alexander “I trust that we may not be disappointed a second time.”
“Yes, and there is lightning again in the horizon—may the Almighty help us in our distress,” exclaimed the Major.
The horses, exhausted from want of water, continued to pant so fearfully, that it was nearly half an hour before they ventured to mount, that they might return to the caravan. In the mean time the heavens had become wholly obscured by the clouds, and there was every prospect of a heavy shower; at last a few drops did fall.
“Thank God!” exclaimed Alexander, as he lifted his face up to the heavens, to feel the drops as they fell. “Now let us return.”
They mounted their horses and set off; but the stars were no longer visible to guide them, and they proceeded on at a slow pace, uncertain whether they were right or wrong. This they cared little about; their thoughts were upon the coming rain, which they so anxiously awaited. For more than three hours they were tantalised by the lightning flashing and the thunder pealing, every moment expecting the flood-gates of the heavens to be opened but, as before, they were doomed to disappointment. Before the morning dawned the clouds had again retreated; and when the sky was clear, they found by the stars that their horses’ heads were turned to the northward and eastward.
They altered their course in silence, for they were worn-out and despondent; they suffered dreadfully from thirst, and it was pitiable to see the tongues of the poor horses hanging out of their mouths. Day dawned, and there were no signs of the caravan. A thick vapour was rising from every quarter, and they hoped that when it cleared up they would be more fortunate; but no, there was the same monotonous landscape, the same carpet of flowers without perfume. The sun was now three hours high, and the heat was intense; their tongues clove to the roofs of their mouths, while still they went on over flowery meads; but neither forest or pool, nor any trees which might denote the bed of the river, caught their earnest gaze.
“This is dreadful,” said Alexander, at last, speaking with difficulty.
“We are lost, that is certain,” said the Major; “but we must trust in God.”
“Yes, we may now say, Lord help us, or we perish,” replied Alexander.