“Then I began to see the birds,” he continued. “I was worried. When I found your smashed camels—by the way you were lucky in one respect, for the beasts attracted the birds and held them back for a day—then I was really worried. I knew I should be useless without supplies so I rode at top speed to the caravan, changed camels for horses and overtook you—just in time.”
“Good old Ab-Domen,” said Lady Sarah patting the oriental’s shoulder.
We were resting at the Rhat-hole which was not so far away as we had supposed. The mirage we had seen was of the close-range variety and had we had sufficient strength to keep on we might have reached it for ourselves.
Our camp was at some distance from the pool in order not to disturb the wild life to which it is so necessary a feature. These desert water-holes differ in character from the South African variety. The vegetation is less dense and more low-growing and the animals are mostly limited to those of the locality, jerboa, jackals, whiffle-hens and so on.
We did no shooting for it has always seemed to me extremely unsporting to kill unsuspecting animals while they are satisfying their thirst. It was sufficiently entertaining to sit quietly in our compound and watch the amazing variety of visitors to the filthy but refreshing waters. Being the only source of supply in a large area it was occasionally visited by creatures whose natural habitat was many miles away. Among others a lean elephant who had evidently strayed far from his haunts to the southward. He was one of the lop-eared Sudanese type, almost dying of thirst. It was interesting to see how in his case necessity became the mother of invention for, having drunk as much as he could, he proceeded to fill his trunk against future need, hanging the end over his ear in order to conserve the precious liquid.
Here, too, we got our first hint of the distant Nile country toward which we were aiming. A group of ibis stalked along the edge of the pool while, keeping very much to himself, I saw a specimen of the rare Egyptian wart-hog whose snout is spiraled to aid him in piercing the sand in search of lizard-eggs, his favorite food.
Our way was now comparatively easy. We were in the region of Anglo-Egyptian influence where the efficiency of the British Government has established a chain of oases at distances much nearer than that provided by nature. Where water does not exist in natural wells it has been reached by boring or is piped in. Ab-Domen checked off the list of probable station stops. Wun, Borku, Liffi Ganda—the largest of the artesian oases,—Bongo, Meshra and so on, straight to the Egyptian frontier....
It seemed unwise to leave Ab-Domen at this juncture for every time I had done so the results had been unfortunate. As I looked back on my plight in Azad’s camp and my narrow escape from death in the company of my bronze beauty I realized that now, if ever, was a time for playing safe. Lord Wimpole was left behind, a thing of the past, lost, to all intents and purposes, in the desert.
“He was carted off to Tabala the morning after you and Lady Sarah left,” Swank told me. “He hadn’t come-to when they started so I don’t know how he took her departure.”
Much I cared! I snapped my fingers.