Chapter Sixty Two.
On the Edge of the Saara.
After a journey of two long dreary days, days that were to the boy slaves periods of agonising torture, from fatigue, hunger, thirst, and exposure to a burning sun, the kafila arrived at another watering-place.
As they drew near the place, our adventurers perceived that it was the same where they had first fallen into the hands of Golah.
“May God help us!” exclaimed Harry Blount, as they approached the place. “We have been here before. We shall find no water, I fear. We did not leave more than two bucketfuls in the hole; and as there has been no rain since, that must be dried up long ago.”
An expression of hopeless despair came over the countenances of his companions. They had seen, but a few days before, nearly all the water drawn out of the pool, and given to the camels.
Their fears were soon removed, and followed by the real gratification of a desire they had long been indulging, the desire to quench their thirst. There was plenty of water in the pool, a heavy deluge of rain having fallen over the little valley since they had left it.
The small supply of food possessed by the travellers would not admit of their making any delay at this watering-place; and the next morning the journey was resumed.