Tishmak had informed them that they would come to a well some time that afternoon. The water, he said, would be very cool, for it came from far underground.
“I’d like to see that Land of Thirst you were talking about,” remarked Joe to Fekmah, as the Arab mentioned the well of cool water that lay ahead of them. “It must be an interesting region.”
Fekmah shook his head.
“Caravans avoid it much as can,” he said grimly. “Too much danger of falling dead. Then, too, it is supposed to be inhabited by evil spirits.”
“Evil spirits?”
“Yes. Superstitious natives near there never see parts of it. I much glad we not have to go through it, because we sure to get very much thirsty.”
Shortly after the explorers had passed around a large hill they heard camel steps from behind a sharp corner in the river bed.
“Quick!” directed Dr. Kirshner. “Let’s hide in back of these rocks. It may be more bandits.”
The adventurers drove their dromedaries out of sight and then followed, looking about cautiously.
The sound of footsteps grew louder, and soon a small caravan of natives came into view, looking very strange indeed with their faces tightly covered with black veils.