Stasch had read in books that in the desert there is an optical illusion known as a “mirage,” and that travelers sometimes see oases, towns, rows of trees, and lakes that are not real, but are produced by atmospheric conditions, which, due to the reflection of light, cause far-distant objects to appear as if nearby. But this time the apparition was so distinct that it seemed as if it could be touched, and although he knew it must be an illusion, he could not doubt that he was looking at the real Medinet. There was the little tower on the house of the Moodir, the round-shaped passage just under the top of the minaret, where the muezzin calls the faithful to prayers; there were the familiar groups of trees, and especially the windmills! No, this must be the real place. It occurred to the boy that perhaps the Sudanese, after thinking things over, had come to the conclusion that they would not be able to escape their pursuers, and, without having told him, were returning to Fayoum. But they were so composed that he doubted if this were so. If it were really Fayoum, would they look at it with such indifference? For they saw the apparition, too, and pointed it out to one another, but their faces portrayed no uncertainty or anxiety. Stasch looked at it again, and perhaps it was this indifference on the part of the Arabs which made the picture appear to fade before him. He also thought that if they were really returning, the people, being frightened, would have kept closer together. The Bedouins, who by Idris’ orders had for several days ridden on in advance, could no longer be seen, and Chamis, who brought up the rear, looked in the distance no larger than a hawk flying along the ground.
“The mirage!” said Stasch to himself.
Meanwhile Idris approached and cried out to him:
“Hoh! Drive the camel on! Don’t you see Medinet?”
He appeared to be jesting and spoke in such a scornful tone that the very faintest shadow of hope that this might be Medinet lying before him vanished from the boy’s heart.
“Idris approached and cried out to him. . . . ‘Don’t you see Medinet?’ He spoke in such a scornful tone that all hope vanished from the boy’s heart.”
Sadly he turned to Nell to dispel her illusion when something suddenly happened which turned the attention of all in another direction.
At first one of the Bedouins came galloping up fast toward them, and while still at a distance began to gesticulate with a long Arabian gun that did not belong to any one in the caravan. When he reached Idris he exchanged a few hasty words with him; then the caravan turned toward the interior of the desert. After a while the second Bedouin appeared, leading a fat camel with a saddle on its hump and leather bags hanging down from his flanks. Again a short conversation took place, but Stasch could not catch a word of it. The caravan rode quickly without a stop toward the west, and only halted when it reached a narrow ravine full of broken rocks and caves. One of these was so spacious that the Sudanese were able to place all the people and camels in it. Although Stasch thought he knew what had happened, he lay down next to Idris and pretended to go to sleep, hoping that the Arabs, who had scarcely spoken a word about their adventure until now, would soon begin to talk about it. His hopes were well founded, for soon after, having scattered food for the camels, the Bedouins sat down to consult with the Sudanese and Chamis.
“From now on we must ride only by night and hide in the daytime,” the one-eyed Bedouin said. “In future we will come across many ravines, and in these we can conceal ourselves securely.”