“I guess here’s a case where familiarity doesn’t breed contempt,” laughed Mr. Lewis, his eyes on the Arabs.
Bob got out the movie camera, intent upon taking several scenes that would be “really different.”
“Moonlight always makes a good impression on a motion-picture audience,” remarked Joe. “And away out here on the Sahara—well, it’ll seem wonderful!”
Tishmak made signs that they move on, and the others were glad to do so. Since there was so much light, it would be easy to find their way.
They were now in a region of high sand hills, with still no rocks other than the small bright-colored pebbles that were scattered about. Vegetation began to be more numerous in the form of had, drinn, and other plants, which were occasionally eaten by the dromedaries.
“I wonder if Fekmah is sure he’s headed right?” said Bob, as he and his friend again took their places at the end of the caravan.
“He doesn’t seem to be having any trouble yet,” was the reply. “You remember he made another map from memory after the first one was stolen. Chances are he knows where he’s going.”
“If he doesn’t, we probably won’t find the hidden riches,” was Bob’s return.
They trudged on, up and down the sand hills, until about ten o’clock. Then Tishmak called a halt.
“We camp here for night,” announced Fekmah, after a short conference with the guide. “It not wise to go any farther tonight. We get a sleep; then start on in morning.”