The dromedaries, too, had their legs embedded in the sand so deeply that it required several minutes of constant digging to relieve them.
“Suppose we rest awhile before going on,” suggested Bob. “It has been a great strain for all of us, standing against that terrible rush of sand.”
The others readily agreed, and all thoughts of continuing the journey at once were dismissed from mind.
“At least,” Joe said, “we got out alive, and that’s more than you can say of many caravans.”
“Yes,” returned his father. “Perhaps under this very spot are the bones of men and camels that were not as lucky as we were.”
“That storm rather short lasting,” remarked Fekmah, glancing at his watch. “Many times storm last several hours.”
Joe sighed.
“I’d hate to have had to stand much more of it,” he said.
It was nearly noon, and the tent was pitched for the midday rest. All were very weary after the terrific strain.
“Let’s have our lunch,” suggested Mr. Lewis. “I’m very hungry, and I’m sure everyone else is.”