“But we cannot stay here for the night,” said Mr Burne impatiently.
“Excellency, we must stay here,” said the Turk firmly. “I am your guide, and where I know the land I will lead you. I knew this country this morning, but how can I know it now? Great chasms may lie between us and the village—deep rifts, into which in the dust and darkness we may walk. You know what vast gorges and valleys lie between the hills.”
“Yes,” replied Mr Preston.
“Some of these have been worn down by the torrents and streams from the mountains, others have been made in a moment by such shocks as these. I would gladly say, ‘come on; I will lead you back to the head-man’s house,’ but, excellencies, I do not dare.”
“He is quite right, Burne,” said the professor gravely.
“Oh, yes, confound him: he always is right,” cried Mr Burne. “I wish sometimes he were not. Fancy camping out here for the night in this horrible dust and with the air growing cold. It will be icy here by and by.”
“Yes, excellency, it will be cold. We are high up, and the snow mountains are not far away.”
“We must make the best of it, Lawrence, my boy,” said the professor cheerily. “Then I suppose the next thing is to select a camp. But, Yussuf, this is rather risky. What about the asps?”
“And the ants,” cried Mr Burne with a groan. “I can’t sleep with such bed-fellows as these.”
“And the djins and evil spirits,” cried Lawrence.