Kali perceived that they both sympathized with him, and he began to grow very fond of them.
For two days they had ridden through a rocky ravine enclosed by high, steep rocks. From the stones which had collected in the wildest confusion it could plainly be seen that the ravine was filled with water during the rainy season, but now the ground was quite dry. On both sides, up against the cliffs, grew a little grass, a great many thorns, and here and there even a few trees. Gebhr had ridden into this stony gorge because it continually went up hill and he thought it would lead to some height from which, by day, it would be easier to see the smoke and by night the flames of Smain’s camp-fire. In some places the ravine became so narrow that only two horses could walk abreast, while in others it expanded into small circular valleys enclosed on all sides by high stone walls, on which sat large apes, that played with one another, and on seeing the caravan barked and showed their teeth.
It was five o’clock in the afternoon. The sun was already low in the west. Gebhr had begun to think of their night quarters. He was hoping to reach a small valley, in which he could erect a zareba—to surround the caravan and the horses with a hedge of prickly mimosas and acacias, to protect them from being attacked by wild beasts. Saba ran in advance, barking at the monkeys, which, on seeing him, moved about restlessly, and he disappeared time and again in the windings of the ravine, his loud barks being repeated by the echoes.
Suddenly Saba became silent. Soon after he came up at a gallop, the hair on his back bristling, his tail down, and ran up to the horses. The Bedouins and Gebhr knew at once that something must have frightened him, but after they had looked around questioningly they continued on their way to investigate the reason. But when they had passed a small bend they reined in their horses, and for a moment remained as if rooted to the spot at the sight that presented itself before them.
On a large rock in the middle of the ravine, which was fairly broad at this place, lay a lion. They could not have been more than a hundred feet from him. As soon as the powerful animal saw the riders and horses he rose on his hind legs and stared at them with gleaming eyes. The rays of the setting sun shone on his enormous head and shaggy breast, and in this red light he resembled one of those sphinxes that ornament the entrances to the ancient Egyptian temples.
The frightened horses began to rear, turn around, and prance backward. The astonished and terrified riders did not know what to do, and frightened and perplexed, cried out as with one voice: “Allah! Bismillah! Allah Akbar!”
The desert king, motionless as bronze, surveyed them from head to foot.
Gebhr and Chamis had heard from merchants who had brought ivory and rubber from Sudan to Egypt that lions sometimes obstruct the route, and that the only thing for a caravan to do is to make a detour around the beast. But now they were in a place from which there was no means of exit but to turn back and run away, and then it was almost certain that the terrible beast would follow them.
Once more the feverish question was asked:
“What is to be done?”