"Au revoir, Lieutenant de Saint Avit."
[!-- Chapter 19--]XIX
THE TANEZRUFT
During the first hour of our flight, the great mehari of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh carried us at a mad pace. We covered at least five leagues. With fixed eyes, I guided the beast toward the gour which the Targa had pointed out, its ridge becoming higher and higher against the paling sky.
The speed caused a little breeze to whistle in our ears. Great tufts of retem, like fleshless skeletons, were tossed to right and left.
I heard the voice of Tanit-Zerga whispering:
"Stop the camel."
At first I did not understand.
"Stop him," she repeated.