“We’ve run off a good many hundred feet of film,” remarked Joe, after the cameras had “purred” for an unusually long period as the youths filmed a deep canyon through which they passed. “In fact, if they had given us twice as much film we could easily have used it all.”
Bob nodded.
“And there’s less danger of losing it in a hot, dry region like this,” he said. “Isn’t at all to be compared with the damp, tropical climate of Brazil.”
Slowly the country became more rough, until that evening, after the meal, the adventurers found it very difficult to pick out a way between the many large rocks. On one occasion they passed through a dark tunnel-like passage beneath high, overhanging peaks, and had literally to feel their way through. There was not the faintest ray of moonlight to lighten the deep passageway.
When they finally came to the other end they gave sighs of relief that at last the moon could again be seen. But now something else hindered progress. A peculiar desert plant, with sharp, poisonous needles and a rather disagreeable odor, had been known previously to the explorers. Now, as they emerged from the dark recesses of the tunnel, they came upon large clusters of these plants. Everywhere the dromedaries went, it seemed, they were forced to tramp through these formidable shrubs.
“It’s a wonder they can stand it,” said Joe, shaking his head. “Their feet are already swollen almost double.”
“Be tragedy if the animals would have to stop,” the other youth said. “It would mean our end, I guess.”
“They’ll make it all right,” put in Mr. Lewis, who was riding at the rear with the boys. “But, needless to say, we couldn’t walk on them.”