"The fool," I cried, "he has let one of our beasts get loose, and the stream is carrying it away!"
"
You are mistaken," said Morhange. "Our camels are all in the cave. The one Bou-Djema is running after is not ours. And the cry of anguish we just heard, that was not Bou-Djema either. Bou-Djema is a brave Chaamb who has at this moment only one idea, to appropriate the intestate capital represented by this camel in the stream."
"Who gave that cry, then?"
"Let us try, if you like, to explore up this stream that our guide is descending at such a rate."
And without waiting for my answer he had already set out through the recently washed gullies of the rocky bank.
At that moment it can be truly said that Morhange went to meet his destiny.
I followed him. We had the greatest difficulty in proceeding two or three hundred meters. Finally we saw at our feet a little rushing brook where the water was falling a trifle.
"See there?" said Morhange.
A blackish bundle was balancing on the waves of the creek.