“Yes,” said the doctor, stretching himself. “We have been giving some idle muscles work to do that they had never had before.”
“Their Excellencies will soon be as much used to it as their friend,” said the Sheikh; and he led the way towards where the camels crouched, some moving their under jaws, chewing after their fashion, others with their long necks stretched straight out and their heads nestling in the sand.
“Here, Sam,” cried the professor, breaking the silence that reigned around, and his words were echoed from the rocks on the far side of the water-holes.
But the man’s reply was only a gurgling, camel-like snore.
“Sound enough,” said the professor; and he was stepping towards him, but Frank interposed.
“I’ll wake him,” he said. “The poor fellow feels fagged and low-spirited. We must not be hard upon him. He hasn’t our motive to spur him on.”
“No,” said the professor, “but he must try and brace himself up a bit.”
“Give him time,” replied Frank, and he bent down on one knee—pretty stiffly too—and laid his hand upon the sleeper’s breast.
“Come, Sam,” he said; “we’re ready to start.”
But there was no reply, and the touch had to be followed up by a shake, and that by one far more vigorous, before there was a loud yawn, and two fists were thrown out in a vigorous stretch.