The old white camel put his peacock-feather fan aside and fumbled in his cushions for a moment, and then he drew forth the most beautiful necklace the youngest camel had ever seen. All the beads of it were of different colors and they were strung together on a solid-silver string. There was the bright red one, and the clear green one, and the moonstone, and the diamond, and looking closer he could make out the tiny lettering which was carved in the center of each one. The little camel could scarcely believe his eyes, and he stepped closer to the litter and peered into the brilliance of the torches’ and jewels’ light. And now he saw that the jade bead had written inside it: “I am the green valley you long for. You may live in me forever.” And the topaz had written within it: “I am a silk tent to protect you from sandstorms and from winter and from the midday sun.” And the ruby came next, and then the ivory bead, and the amethyst, and the sapphire, and all the others, exactly like the story he had told his mother.
“These are magic beads,” the old camel said, holding them up to the light. “They’re the most valuable possession anyone can possibly have, because they’re practically impossible. You see, if they belong to you, then you can always have everything you want.”
“Oh, yes, I know, I know!” cried the little camel, clapping his hands together.
“How could you know about them?” asked the white leader, just managing to swallow his yawn. “I’m the only person in the world who knows about them.”
“Have you ever tried them? Do they work?” asked the youngest camel eagerly, and the old white camel answered:—
“Of course they do.”
“Well, then, excuse me,” said the little camel, “but why don’t you live in a green valley forever the way the jade bead says you can do?”
“Because I prefer to travel on a litter,” said the white leader. “It’s much more restful and I see more of the world this way, too. There’s nothing I dread so much as being bored, and I know I’d be awfully bored lying in a valley without any change of scenery.”
“Yes, of course,” said the youngest camel, doubtfully, and after a moment he said: “If you’ll excuse me again, I hope you won’t think I’m rude, but I should like to know why you don’t press the sapphire against your forehead for an instant and have all your years drop from you?”
“You mean turn myself young again?” asked the big white camel in amazement. “Do you really imagine I’d like to start way back at the beginning again and do all the silly things I did over, and not have people in every country of the world paying me homage, and not be the leader of the caravan of white camels any more?” He sank back in his pillows again and gave a weary sigh. “I never heard anything quite so silly in all my life,” he murmured, lifting one hand to hide his gaping mouth. “I can’t imagine anything more stupid.”