After Hussain's departure, Royson and Abdur Kad'r disposed themselves to rest. Utilizing camel cloths as tentes d'abri, they snatched a couple of hours of uneasy sleep; but the heat and insects drove even the seasoned sheikh to rebellion, and by midday both men preferred the hot air and sunshine to the sweltering shade of the stuffy cloths.
Irene was right when she said that Dick had made a great advance with his Arabic. He was master of many words of every-day use, and had also learnt a number of connected phrases. Abdur Kad'r knew some French. These joint attainments enabled them to carry on a conversation.
The Arab, with the curiosity of all men who do not read books, sought information as to life in big cities, and Royson amused himself by depicting the marvels of London. A limited vocabulary, no less than the dense ignorance of his guide on such topics as railways, electricity, paved streets, cabs, and other elements of existence in towns, rendered the descriptions vague. Suddenly, the sheikh broke in on Dick's labored recital with a query that gave the conversation an extraordinary turn.
"If you have so many remarkable things in your own land, Effendi, what do you seek here?" he asked, waving a lean hand in comprehensive sweep. "This is no place for town-bred men like the Hakim Effendi, nor for two such women as those who travel with us. You have ridden three hundred kilometers across the desert, and for what? To find five hills, says the Hakim. May Allah be praised that rich men should wish to spend so much money for so foolish a reason!"
"But the Hakim Effendi believes that there is an oasis marked by five hills somewhere in this district, and, were he to find it, we would dig, and perhaps discover some ancient articles buried there, articles of small value to the world generally, but highly prized by those who understand their history."
"I know this desert as you know those streets you have been telling me of," said Abdur Kad'r, "and there is no oasis marked by five hills. You have seen every camping-ground between here and Pajura. There is but one other track, an old caravan road from the sea, which crosses our present line a few kilometers to the south. We passed it last night in the dark. It has only four wells. The nearest one is called the Well of Moses, the next, the Well of the Elephant—"
"Why should you Arabs have a well of Moses?" asked Dick, smiling. "It is not thought that Moses ever wandered in this locality, is it?"
"We respect Moses and all the prophets," said Abdur Kad'r seriously. He smoked in silence for a minute, seemingly searching his memory for something that had escaped it.
"Is it true," he demanded doubtingly, "that once upon a time many of the hills gave forth fire and smoke as from a furnace?"
"Quite true. Volcanoes we call them. All these mountains are volcanic in their origin."