As they traveled on, the ground became strewn with small red pebbles that shone brightly in the dazzling sunlight.
“I guess most of the rocks here are red,” remarked Bob, who had studied books on the Sahara.
“Burned that color by the sun, huh?”
“Seems reasonable, doesn’t it? Come to think of it, though, the ground in the Land of Thirst is black.”
“The Land of Thirst?”
“Yes. I heard Fekmah talking about it this morning. It’s a region where there are few or no wells, and you have to be very careful to have a good supply of water in the tanks before you plunge into it.”
“Looks like even then it would be dangerous. What if a storm or something would hold you back for a long time?”
“Have to take that chance,” Bob replied. “Wouldn’t doubt that quite a few caravans come to a tragic end there.”
“Will we go through it?” Joe asked.
“Fekmah said we might,” was the response.