And then they flew off, their legs floating on the air behind them
His legs were beginning to feel tired now, and his feet hot and sore, and he suddenly felt angry with everyone and everything. He kicked viciously at the sand as he ran, and after another little while, as if he must put the blame on someone, he looked back over his right shoulder and stuck out his tongue and wrinkled his nose up at the sun. The whole world was turning pink now at the end of day, and the wide desert was glowing with the sun’s last light. There was the oasis still, not so very far away, and yet mysteriously just as far as it had ever been.
As the youngest camel went running on in discouragement, a flock of flamingos came winging towards him, their feathers and their legs colored like the petals of a rose. When they saw such a baby camel running so desperately across the wastes of sand, they circled several times above him, their legs hanging down like brilliant satin ribbons, and the leader called down:—
“Where are you going so fast, four-footed child?” and he answered in irritation:—
“I don’t see why you have to ask such a stupid question! Can’t you see I’m going to the oasis?”
But he was so tired now that he stopped running while he talked to them, and stood stamping his foot in the sand.
“You have lost your way, four-footed child!” the flamingos all called out to him in chorus. “We are going to the oasis! Follow us and we will show you!”
They wheeled once above him, calling out to him to follow, and then they flapped slowly off in the direction of the setting sun. He stood looking after them rather wistfully for a moment, and then he tossed his head and turned back towards the oasis. It seemed to him now to be even farther away than ever, and tears came into his eyes.
“I’m sure I couldn’t have made a mistake,” he said stubbornly. “I’m sure I couldn’t be wrong. It’s absolutely impossible.”
“Why in the world should that be impossible?” asked a clear little trilling voice very close to his ear, and when he looked quickly around him he saw that scores of brightly feathered little birds were flying and darting in the air about his head. From the feeling of it, some of them had certainly alighted on his hump and some on the back of his neck, and there they were all chattering and chirping together. The bird who had spoken to him was no bigger than a pear leaf, but its feathers were brighter than a peacock’s. In company with others just like it, it spun and darted on the air before him, humming and whistling and eying him sharply and curiously.