“Then the desert is not quite empty, Frank. Your dog or fox must be a jackal; but I wonder at your seeing him in the daylight. Let me look at your heap of sand.”
“One minute; there are two somethings upon it. Two of those jackals sitting on a heap, I suppose, by their holes. No; one of them has stretched out two wings. Why, they’re vultures.”
“Better still. Now I’ll look.—Thanks. Your eyes require a different focus from mine. Yes. What I expected,” said the professor, handing back the glass. “Have another look at your sand heap; it will repay observation; it is one of the milestones of the caravan roads, only they are not placed at regular distances. Have you caught it again?”
“I keep catching glimpses,” replied Frank, with the glass to his eye; “but the whole thing seems to be dancing about.—Now I’ve got it.—No; gone again.—That’s better. The vultures have hopped off the heap and are spreading their wings. We have scared them away. Yes, there they go—a few hops, and they are rising sluggishly. No, I can’t follow them with the glass.”
“Can you see anything else?”
“Yes, I’ve got the heap again, and there are three of the little dog-like creatures scurrying right away. I say, this is a good glass! I can see the dusty sand rise as it is kicked by the jackals. Here, let’s stop the camel.”
“No,” said the professor; “there’s nothing worth stopping for.”
“But I want to make out something lying by that little heap. It looks like a curved bone.”
“It is a curved bone,” said the professor.
“You can’t see with the naked eye.”