“No,” said the professor; “it would be driving things too close. Send your young men to strike the tent, and we will have everything ready for the camels. We should none of us sleep, and if we have any time to spare it will be pleasant enough to lie down on the sand. One minute: have you any idea which way we shall go?”
“I do not quite know,” said the old Arab. “I asked the men, but they shook their heads. It will not be by the regular caravan track.”
“How do you know that?” asked the doctor.
“Because, Excellency, there is water nearly as good as this at the end of the day’s journey.”
“Well? What of that?”
“These men must know the tracks as well as I do, Excellencies—perhaps better. If they were going by the regular road they would know that we should reach the wells.”
“I see,” said the professor, nodding his head; “and they are filling water-skins?”
“Yes, Excellency, and I am told to do the same.”
“Then we are going to strike right out into the desert, of course.”
“Yes, Excellency, to take the shortest ways; and it looks like flight.”