The others followed, and although not as emotional they were no less hungry.
The meal tasted good, despite the fact that they were ignorant of its composition. Fekmah tried to explain one of the dishes, but the foodstuffs used in its preparation were unknown to the Americans, and they were as much in the dark after he had finished the explanation as before he had begun it.
“We’ll trust there isn’t anything repulsive in its make-up,” smiled Mr. Holton.
“At any rate the taste isn’t so bad,” came from Bob. “I’ve seen stuff much worse.”
“Referring to the delicacies of the South American Indians, I suppose,” laughed Mr. Lewis, and the boys nodded.
“We were forced to eat almost anything for a while,” reflected Joe. “Getting lost in the Brazilian jungle was a serious thing, and we realized it. Then when we got in with those savages, we accepted their offer of food at once, even though we weren’t sure it was all right.”
“That was a great adventure, boys,” remarked Mr. Holton, his thoughts going back to the countless days of river traveling in unknown South America. “The more I think of it the more convinced I am that we should be extremely proud of that exploit. Mr. Lewis and I have had many adventures in unknown lands while collecting specimens for the museum, but none surpasses that one.”
“I’d like to go there some time,” said Dr. Kirshner. “But so far, my work as an archæologist has not called me into that region. When it will, if ever, I do not know.”
After the bountiful meal the explorers took it easy in the hotel, and Fekmah returned to his room.
“Since we haven’t anything in particular to do, we might as well rest up for the hunting trip tomorrow,”said Mr. Lewis, as he and the others sat in the lobby of their hotel. “We’ve had a hard day of it and deserve to be idle for a while.”
The others agreed, and the remainder of the day was spent in quiet.
But early the next morning the boys and their fathers were busily preparing for the hunting expedition. By seven o’clock they had their rifles and other necessities in readiness, and with a farewell to Dr. Kirshner, who wished to talk over the Sahara journey with Fekmah, they left the hotel.
Mr. Lewis had earlier made arrangements for a car to take them to Arba, whence they would go on foot into the forests and desert. The automobile was parked in a small garage not far away, and they reached the place in but a few minutes. It was a low, dirty structure, with few windows.
A swarthy native came out to meet them and at once recognized Mr. Lewis. He led the way through a small door and into a room that served as the garage.
“Here we are,” said Joe’s father, as they rounded a corner.
He pointed to something that at once caused Bob and Joe to burst out with laughter.
“THATa car—an automobile?” asked Bob, holding back his laughter.
“You don’t mean to say that thing will take us fourteen miles!” cried Joe, no less moved than his chum.
The naturalists smiled. They had apparently not expected this.
“It’s about the best we can do here,” confessed Mr. Lewis. “Of course there are better automobiles, but none of them seems to be for hire. You see, this drive-yourself idea doesn’t appear to be very popular here. I suppose it’s because there is so much danger of being attacked by bands of nomads who would think nothing of robbing the occupants and stealing the car. But this car, although not beautiful to look at, has a good motor and good tires, and that’s about all we could expect. Remember, we’re not in America now.”
The object of their remarks was indeed not anything to be especially proud of. A well-known American make, it had undoubtedly been of greatservice in its time, and was still capable of covering many more miles. It had no top, and nothing to show that one had been present, but the seats were in fair condition, and a well-shined windshield promised to keep away the formidable dust of the desert.
“Well, I suppose we could do much worse,” sighed Joe, taking his place in the back seat.
After a few more remarks with the keeper of the garage, the adventurers started the motor and pulled out into the street, Mr. Lewis at the wheel. The chug of the engine was almost deafening, but, as Bob remarked, they would probably get used to it.
“Ought to be some new springs,” said Joe, with a wink at his chum.
“And there could be new upholstering,” added Bob. “Of course it needs new——”
“All right, boys,” smiled Mr. Holton, cutting off their capricious suggestions. “If you don’t like it, you know what you can do.”
“I guess we’d better shut up,” grinned Bob. “We may get thrown out on our ear.”
Mr. Lewis had studied the map of Algiers and had no difficulty in finding his way out of the city and to Maison Carrée, which might almost be called a suburb of the metropolis. From here they went almost straight south and soon came to a narrow river, which was spanned by a small bridge.
“Scarcely any curves from here on,” said Mr. Lewis, as he increased the speed of the car.
The road remained good, and in a short time they reached Arba, their destination. Here for the first time they caught a glimpse of a camel caravan, for they are never seen as far as Algiers. It was composed of about ten dromedaries, with only three riders. Strapped on the brutes’ backs were packs containing probably dates and other products of the desert.
Bob and Joe took in the scene with intense interest, for soon they would be fitted out in a like manner for the long desert journey. The youths were particularly anxious to observe the manner in which the brutes are ridden. They had heard that to straddle a camel and be able to bounce freely along was an art that came only of long practice. Whether this was true they did not know but resolved to find out sooner or later from Fekmah.
“I’ll bet it’s harder than it looks, though,” remarked Joe.
A little later they saw other caravans of donkeys, the usual beast of burden used near the coast.
“The Arab, unlike other natives, never carries his load,” explained Mr. Holton. “I guess he thinks it lowers himself too much.”
They drove on into the town and had more trouble finding good streets than in Algiers.
Luckily it was Wednesday, and the market was in full swing. Traders were swarming everywhere, buying and selling the queer native goods and foodstuffs.
“Suppose we park the car where we can and look about a bit,” suggested Joe. “It’s no special hurry to begin the hunt, is it?”
The others were more than willing, and as soon as possible the automobile—if it could be called that—was stopped at a convenient corner.
“Sure feels good to get out and stretch,” smiled Bob, taking advantage of the opportunity to relax his cramped legs.
They left the car and made for the business center of the town, intent upon spending a half-hour or so in watching the busy scene of interest.
It was soon discovered that except for the large market there was little of interest to be seen. In many respects the town resembled Algiers, although on a much smaller scale and not nearly as modern. The streets were narrow and, in many cases, curving, and the houses were far from attractive. But the hustle and bustle of the natives clearly indicated that Arba was of considerable importance commercially.
This was especially noted in the city market, where every article imaginable was for sale. Bakers, vegetable dealers, butchers, shoemakers, wine venders, and many others did their best toconvince the buyer of the worth of their products.
“And over there in that tent is a physician,” pointed out Mr. Lewis. “How good he would be considered in the United States is hard to say, but the Arabs seem to have confidence in him. Look at the patients going in.”
“For my part, I’d rather trust nature to cure my illness,” smiled Bob, as he noted the rather blank expression of the native physician.
The explorers spent nearly a half-hour in the city, taking in the various sights so strange and interesting to a visitor from a far-away land. At last Mr. Holton moved that they go back to the car and get their rifles and begin the hunt, and the others were in favor of doing so.
Their lunch, cartridges, binoculars, and other hunting necessities were packed in lightweight ruck sacks, which required but a minute to strap on their backs.
The car was to be left where it was, as probably no better parking place could be found.
“Guess we’re ready,” said Mr. Lewis, picking up his rifle.
It required but a short walk to reach the edge of the town, and one glance revealed that the country here was wild and uncultivated. Mountains were but a short distance away, and some of the peaks were rather impressive.
“Those forests look like there might be anythingin them,” observed Joe, directing his glance at the towering wooded slopes.
“We’ll see in a short time,” said his father, fumbling his rifle.
The foothills over which they were passing were, for the most part, bare and devoid of heavy vegetation. But a little later they came to a region that gradually sloped upward, and less than an hour’s traveling brought them to the base of a high, sloping mountain, which was covered with a dense forest.
With renewed efforts they began the task of climbing, keeping a sharp lookout for any wild animals that might dart out in front of them.
“About all the wild animals to be found here are rabbits, jackals, hyenas, panthers, and a very few lions,” said Mr. Holton, as they trudged up the hill.
Luckily there were no sharp cliffs to be scaled. Instead, the way was gradual, unbroken.
“I’d like to get a glimpse of one of those queer creatures that have been reported to exist in these woods,” remarked Mr. Holton with a smile.
“What’s that?” asked Joe.
“Another Arabian myth, most likely. At any rate I know of nobody who has ever been fortunate enough to see one. It is supposed to be about the size of a badger and is a very peculiar combination of six or more well-known animals.The face, eyes, tail, abdomen, and other body regions are supposed to be taken from other creatures; and all the details are very accurate and convincing, to hear the Arab tell it. Again arises the question of where such queer conceptions get into his head.”
As they hiked on, Bob and Joe began to get behind their elders. There was much to be seen in the way of odd plants and colorful flowers, and their attention was continually diverted from one thing to another.
“I suppose when we get as seasoned in the art of exploring as our dads we’ll not notice such minorities,” said Bob. “But right now——”
He stopped suddenly as he caught sight of something that made his blood turn cold.
Not five feet away was a huge wild boar, showing its terrible tusks savagely as it prepared to rush at the youths.
“WHATis it?” cried Joe, as he noticed the look of anxiety on his chum’s face.
For answer, Bob pointed to the wild boar, and as Joe glanced around he shrank back in consternation.
“Quick!” he cried. “It’s going to charge!”
There was no time to lose. The animal, angered because cornered, was getting ready to stand its ground savagely. And the boys had heard of the wild boar’s terrible ferocity.
Almost in unison the youths raised their rifles and took careful aim. The guns were of only twenty-two caliber, not any too powerful for the occasion, but the chance had to be taken.
“Now,” murmured Bob, holding his rifle in a steady position.
Bang! Bang! Two shots rang out, and each found the mark.
But the small bullets did not stop the beast’s charge, and it came on with horrible atrocity.
“Run!” cried Bob, his nerve completely gone. “Let’s go up a tree!”
As the youths darted to one side, a shot rang out; another; and still another. A moment later the wild boar sank to the ground in a crumpled mass, gave a convulsive twitch, and then lay still.
Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton came running up, on their faces a look of apprehension.
“A narrow escape!” said Joe grimly. “It’s a good thing you came across with those high-speed bullets. They sure did the job, all right.”
“We just happened to glance around in time,” explained his father. “We didn’t know you boys were so far behind. Why didn’t you bring larger rifles?”
“Weren’t expecting to meet such a creature as this,” replied Bob. “I had an idea that this was a tame country, but I see I’m wrong,” with a glance at the wild boar.
“You certainly are,” smiled Mr. Holton, shaking his head. “And this incident may be the beginning of a series of adventures with wild animals. Where there’s one of a thing there’s likely to be another. So stick close, boys. I’d hate to have to rely on those twenty-twos again.”
The wild boar was shattered by the bullets and was no good as a specimen. The naturalists especially wanted one of these terrible beasts and were put out to think that this one had been madeworthless by the rifles, but they were thankful that they had been able to come to the rescue of their sons.
With one last look at the creature they resumed the hike, this time keeping a closer lookout for any other formidable beast.
As they penetrated deeper into the forest, signs of life began to increase in numbers. Small rodents darted out, only to be brought down by the guns of the naturalists; lizards of grotesque and ugly shapes were all about; birds of many colors flew overhead, their plumage showing brightly in the sunlight. It was a sight that the youths never grew tired of.
Suddenly a jackal ran out, and Mr. Holton lost no time in firing at it. It was carefully but quickly skinned and placed in the burlap bag for the specimens.
“This forest certainly is untrodden,” observed Mr. Lewis, unable to discern the faintest traces of human tracks. “It has probably been a long time since anyone broke into its fastness.”
“Which is all the better for us,” said Joe. “Animals here probably have never heard the sound of a gun before.”
Along toward noon they picked out a small grassy area and got out the kit of lunch. The sandwiches were spread on a paper, and thermos bottles of cold lemonade were opened. To the tiredadventurers it promised to be a feast fit for a king.
“No meal in the most luxurious café tastes better than a bountiful lunch in the heart of a forest,” said Mr. Lewis.
Bob’s father nodded.
“It has been said that no one but an explorer really knows what an appetite is,” he remarked. “And in times when I’m working in the museum at home and not doing any strenuous work I can fully realize the truth of it.”
They ate the lunch in quiet contentment, taking it easy on the soft grass. It seemed good to be out on the trail again, feasting on the wonders of nature. Bob and Joe were impressed by the stillness of the great forest.
“This is about the only kind of a woods you can get through,” remarked Bob, his eyes on the numerous cork-oak trees. “A tropical jungle has so much undergrowth and vines that it keeps you busy cutting them away with a machete.”
An hour or two after the repast was spent in resting their tired limbs and chatting merrily. Then Mr. Lewis suggested that they continue the hunt.
“We won’t have so very much time left,” he said. “And we’d like to get several more specimens.”
A little later they came to a narrow valley betweentwo high mountains. A tiny spring trickled from beside a large rock, and they welcomed the taste of the refreshing liquid. It was quite cold, showing that it probably came from an underground stream.
“Drink all you want,” said Mr. Lewis. “It’s likely the last water we’ll see till we get back to Arba.”
All the remainder of that afternoon the explorers trudged on, bringing down several small animals and birds. None of them happened to be dangerous, however.
The hunters had described a wide circle that took them by sundown within a mile or two from Arba, and the accuracy of the naturalists’ calculations was greatly appreciated, for they were very tired and did not feel that they would care to have to hike a great distance to get to the automobile.
“Wonder if the old car’s still there,” mused Bob, as they came to the limits of Arba.
“Don’t know why it shouldn’t be,” returned his chum. “Nobody’d want it for anything.”
It required but a short time to reach the main part of the town. Then they turned off on the street where the car was parked.
“It’s there!” cried Joe, making out its ancient shape in the distance.
The others shared in his enthusiasm. They hadhad an uneasy feeling about its safety all day, despite the fact that the ignition had been locked.
In a short time the explorers were in the seats, and Joe, who had asked to drive, began the task of starting the engine. It finally responded to the sluggish self-starter.
“Now let’s hurry and get back to Algiers,” urged Mr. Holton. “We don’t want to be out after dark, for there’s no telling how good these lights are.”
During the next half-hour Joe pulled the throttle as far down as possible, and then complained because he could only do forty-five. However, it was not long before they saw the lights of Algiers in the distance.
“Now to get something to eat,” said Mr. Holton, sitting up in the seat in anticipation. “It will be good to see the old hotel again, won’t it?”
“Sure will,” replied Bob. “I’ll bet Dr. Kirshner expected us long before this.”
“He’s probably conversing with Fekmah,” was the opinion expressed by Mr. Lewis. “You know,” he went on, “that Arab is a strange contrast to these worthless fellows around here. It all goes to show what anyone can do if he wants to.”
“He’s educated, too, isn’t he?” inquired Joe.
“Yes, highly,” the naturalist replied. “Was graduated from the University of Algiers and receiveda degree. What he doesn’t know isn’t worth knowing.”
“Where is his home?” asked Bob. “He doesn’t live in Algiers, does he?”
“No. He lives in Oran; that’s about a hundred and twenty-five miles or so west of here. Quite a prosperous city, I guess.”
“But,” questioned Bob, thoroughly puzzled, “what is he doing here in Algiers?”
“It all goes back to Dr. Kirshner’s conversation with him on the ship,” Mr. Holton explained. “You see, Tom”—referring to the archæologist—“met him on the last day of the voyage and recognized him to be a very intellectual man. As soon as Fekmah found that he could trust Kirshner, he confided this secret about the hidden riches. Well, then, when he found that we would accept his proposition and make it one of the objects of the expedition to search for this treasure, Fekmah put up at a hotel in Algiers in order to accompany us into the Sahara. See?”
“Sure. I don’t know now why I didn’t before.”
They were now among the lights of Algiers, and Joe headed straight for the business section, where the car was to be returned to the garage.
They reached the place in a short time and left the automobile. Then they hurried around to their hotel.
When they came to their room, they found Dr.Kirshner and Fekmah in earnest conversation. When the two heard their friends in the hall, they arose, wreathed in smiles.
“We have good news for you,” announced Dr. Kirshner joyously. “The train is leaving for Wargla in the morning.”
“HURRAH!”burst out Joe, overwhelmed with delight. “We’ll get ahead of those crooks after all.”
“When did you find out?” asked Mr. Holton, as overjoyed as the youth.
“Late this afternoon,” was the response. “We intended to make frequent trips to the railroad station in order to know as soon as possible. The agent there informed us that the track had been cleared last night and the locomotive repaired this morning. He didn’t give the impression that there are other trains on this route, but I suppose there are.”
“That’s fine!” exclaimed Mr. Lewis, as excited as a boy. “We’ll get a meal at once and then complete preparations for the journey. Have you two eaten?”
“Yes,” returned Fekmah. “It is getting late. Six, seven o’clock.”
The naturalists and their sons made their way to the café and did full justice to a delicious meal. Then they went back to their room and finished packing their possessions.
“Do you know,” remarked Joe that night just before retiring, “we were, in a sense, responsible for that train wreck?”
Bob looked up in surprise.
“If it hadn’t been for our proposed expedition, those two Arabs would have had no cause to wreck the train,” Joe explained.
“Oh. Indirectly, huh? Well, you’re right.”
Very early the next morning the explorers were up making last-minute preparations. The train was to leave for Wargla at eight o’clock, giving them three hours or so to use to best advantage.
“When do we reach our destination?” asked Bob, as he snapped the catch on his handbag.
“At about noon day after tomorrow,” answered Dr. Kirshner. “You see, it’s a three-hundred-and-seventy-five-mile journey, and the train won’t go any too fast through the mountains.”
“Mountains? Do we go through mountains?” queried Joe, a little surprised.
“Yes, twice. Through these around here and then in the more lofty Aures. And the scenery is said to be wonderful.”
“What cities do we pass through?” Bob asked.
“Setif, Batna, Biskra, and Tuggourt are the principal ones,” the archæologist replied. “But there are a number of smaller towns. Get a map. There’s one in the pocket of that bag over there.”
The boys took out the guide to Algeria andstudied it closely. They found that the railroad did not make a straight run but curved considerably in order to pass through several important cities and towns. The map was not strictly up to date and consequently did not show the new stretch from Tuggourt to Wargla.
“It’s been constructed only recently,” explained Mr. Lewis. “At present the French have proposed building a trans-Sahara route. When they will begin it, if ever, we don’t know.”
“Perhaps not in our lifetimes,” smiled Joe. “Large enterprises like that come very slowly.”
An hour before train time everything was in readiness, and it was Mr. Holton who suggested that they go down to the railroad station.
The others were in favor of doing so, and as it was but a short distance away they were content to walk and carry their belongings. There was a good-sized load, but it was distributed evenly without anyone being overtaxed.
At the station they checked the things securely and safely. Even then they had a leisure half-hour.
“You may be surprised at sight of the train,” said Fekmah.
And they were. The Americans had expected to see rickety wood coaches attached to an incapable locomotive, but instead they saw a large, fine train of the French design.
“All due to the influence of France, I suppose,”remarked Dr. Kirshner, as he followed the others up in the coach.
A few minutes later they felt a slight jerk and the train began moving slowly away from the station. Gradually it picked up speed, and before long Algiers disappeared on the horizon.
“We’re off!” said Joe enthusiastically. “Before long we’ll see the great Sahara Desert!”
It required but a few minutes to reach Maison Carrée, and after a short stop they began the journey in earnest. Rapidly they passed through cultivated fields, orange groves, and vineyards, heading for the mountains. Small farmhouses were left behind, their owners laboring in the fields. Villages inhabited largely by whites were passed, and occasionally a five-horse cart loaded with swarthy Arabs could be seen winding slowly along the shaded roads.
Finally they came to the Djurdjura Mountains, after having passed through the dense forest of La Reghaia. Through numerous tunnels and around scenic gorges they went, and finally came to Palestro, a small town on the banks of the Isser River. Here the train stopped for a few brief minutes.
Again it took up the journey, speeding through the beautiful mountain gorges. In the narrow valleys farmers could be seen laboring with primitive implements. The next stop was Beni-Mansour, where the railroad branched.
Still on they went, the mountainous country gradually growing wilder and more beautiful. Occasionally they found themselves in a narrow gulch between high walls of rock, and a curious sensation of being hemmed in crept over them.
After passing through a long tunnel, the train sped out on a barren plain, with little vegetation and few or no people. Another stop was at Setif, a modern city populated by Americans and Europeans as well as natives.
Resuming the journey, they passed over another great stretch of level country, and then finally a mountain range could be seen in the distance. But just when the explorers were anticipating the change of scenery, the train pulled into El Guerrah and stopped.
“Here we must get off,” announced Fekmah, getting his belongings together. “We must change trains for Biskra. This one goes on.”
The explorers lugged their belongings out on the platform and into the station.
Darkness was fast approaching, and as it would be necessary to remain in El Guerrah overnight, the adventurers stepped into the hotel, which was the only structure in sight.
“The town is some distance away,” declared Fekmah. “We not have time to see it.”
At the hotel they engaged rooms and lost no time in getting to them. Sleepiness was rapidlyoverpowering them, and they went to bed at once.
The next morning they awaited the train to take them on the remainder of the journey. At eight o’clock it was there, and the explorers climbed aboard, eager to get started on the last stretch.
“What’s the next stop?” asked Bob, as he stretched out on the comfortable seat.
“Batna,” his father returned. “Quite a prosperous place, I guess. And it is the starting point for tourist excursions to several Roman cities that are of considerable interest historically.”
Inside of an hour that city was reached. A short stop and then they were off for Biskra, at the very edge of the Sahara.
“We are now three thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea,” declared Fekmah, as the train sped over the last few miles of level country.
Soon they came to the Aures Mountains, and between high walls of rock they sped. At last the short range of peaks was passed, and they found themselves once more on comparatively level ground.
Suddenly Fekmah pointed to a high ridge of rock:
“The Sahara Desert!” he exclaimed. “We have come to it at last.”
ATthe Arab’s welcome remark, Bob and Joe sat up with a start.
“At last!” murmured Joe. “Though I’ll admit it doesn’t look much like a desert to me.”
“There’s still quite a bit of vegetation,” said Dr. Kirshner. “But nevertheless, that rocky wall is classed as the mark of the desert’s edge.”
Another small town was left behind. Then, almost without knowing it, they reached Biskra, a modern city that is much frequented by tourists. The train came to a stop at a small but well-built station.
“Here we must get off again,” said Dr. Kirshner. “The train does not leave for Wargla in the daytime because of the excessive heat.”
They found much to interest them the remainder of the afternoon. For Biskra, with its picturesque natives, lanes of dirty houses, quaint cafés, and modern buildings held their constant attention.
That evening the train arrived for Wargla, and the explorers were glad to continue the journey.
For the next eight hours they sped along barren country, only the outline of which could be seen in the darkness. At last they stopped at Tuggourt, formerly the last stop on the railroad.
“It won’t be long now,” sang Joe, as he sat up in his seat expectantly.
The train covered the fifty-mile journey in less than an hour, and then, after gradually moving downhill, it passed through a cluster of mud houses and pulled up at a modern station.
“All off!” said Mr. Holton. “Here’s Wargla, our destination.”
They got their bags off the train, and then stood for some time taking in their environment.
The sun was just beginning to peep from behind a high sand dune, and it was rather easy to make out the landscape. Over to one side was a high minaret of earth, the tallest sun-dried clay mound in existence. Scattered about were numerous clusters of date trees, and to their left was Wargla, glittering with many lights.
“Now what?” inquired Bob, rousing himself.
“Better get to the hotel,” answered Dr. Kirshner. “From what I’ve heard, it has been built but recently, and we’ll have everything of the latest design.”
A sign told them that the hotel was only a short distance away, and picking up their belongings, they walked over to it.
It was all that could be asked for, with modern conveniences that the explorers had not dreamed of enjoying in such an out-of-the-way place.
“Better turn in right away,” suggested Dr. Kirshner. “It isn’t advisable to start the desert journey without having had any sleep.”
After the train trip it felt good to stretch out on the comfortable beds. Despite their youth, Bob and Joe were very tired.
“We must wake up at dawn tomorrow,” Bob reminded his chum. “We’ll have to get our stuff together early.”
Notwithstanding this, the youths’ deep slumber made it necessary for their elders to awaken them. They felt rather sheepish as they arose and noticed that the sun was well up in the sky.
“Guess we haven’t developed our mental alarm clocks yet,” grinned Joe, slipping hurriedly into his clothes.
“Now, boys,” said Mr. Holton, opening the door of their room, “we’re going out to find a guide and camels. You had better come along, so you can practise riding. It isn’t easy to get used to a dromedary’s trot. First, though, go and get your breakfast.”
When the meal was finished, they joined the men in the hotel lobby. Fekmah, as the best-informed concerning the Sahara, acted as the leader.
“The man in charge of hotel told me of worthyman who will be our guide on the expedition,” he said. “He lives at edge of town, not far away.”
“Fine! Then we’ll go there at once.” Mr. Lewis walked over to the door, followed by the others.
The fellow lived in a small, low structure of clay, and although not pleasing to the eye, it probably lessened the intense heat of the fierce desert sun.
Fekmah knocked at the door. A moment later a tall Arab greeted them, his face thin but not indicating that he was possessed of a weak constitution.
“Are you Tishmak?” Fekmah asked.
The Arab nodded.
Fekmah then conversed rapidly in the native tongue, and although the Americans could not catch the meaning of most of the words, they gathered that their friend was succeeding in employing the man to act as a guide. A moment later he confirmed their suspicions.
“He will go,” Fekmah said delightedly. “And his price is right.” He then proceeded to introduce the Americans as best he could in his own language, for the guide could not speak English.
“Now,” began Dr. Kirshner, “what about the camels? Can this fellow, Tishmak, get them? How many will we need? Ask him, Fekmah. I’m afraid I can’t get along very well with his mixed dialect.”
Their friend put the question before the guide, and he at once gave them an answer.
“He says he can get them,” Fekmah translated. “And how many we will need depends on our own taste. But he makes suggest that we use twenty. That is seven for us to ride and thirteen to carry food and other things.”
“All right,” said Dr. Kirshner. “Have him lead us to them now, so that we can practise riding.”
Fekmah again turned to the man, who a moment later nodded and motioned for them to follow him.
Ten minutes later, after having wound through many narrow streets, the explorers found themselves in a large open field at the edge of the town. About them were grazing a hundred or more camels.
“Here we are,” declared Fekmah, his eyes on the idle beasts.
Tishmak had a moment before left for the house. Now he returned with a thin, lithe Arab, who was evidently the owner of the camels.
A short conference between Fekmah and the stranger took place. Then Fekmah turned to the Americans.
“We can have the dromedaries,” he said. “And he is asking only a fair amount. Come and I will pick them out.”
The others followed him over the field, wherehe singled out twenty of the best-looking beasts.
“Now,” said Mr. Holton, “we want to practise riding before we start on the real journey. Perhaps we’d better do that this afternoon. Then we can load up in the evening and get started in the morning.”
Fekmah nodded.
“We’ll go now and come back this afternoon,” he said.
Shortly after the noon meal the explorers left the hotel, intent upon trying their skill astride the ponderous humps. None of them but Fekmah had ever had the experience of riding on camelback.
“Wonder how it’ll be?” mused Joe.
He soon saw. Aside from a most uncomfortable jerking it was a novel and enjoyable experience, for the time being, at least, surpassing horseback-riding.
“But you’ll soon get tired of it,” said Mr. Holton. “At least Fekmah says so.”
“Dad might say we’ll get fed up on it,” remarked Bob, when they were ready to start back to the hotel. “But I haven’t yet.”
“Nor I,” put in Joe. “But of course, after several days——”
There was much to be looked after that evening, and it kept the explorers busy. Tishmak acted as leader in securing the food supply, which, however, was also to include canned goods. The naturalistsand Dr. Kirshner attended to last-minute preparations, while the youths kept their time busy in helping the others.
Early that night they retired, eager to get all the rest possible.
“Sleep well,” said Mr. Lewis, as the boys jumped in bed. “We’ll have it rough from tomorrow on.”
At four o’clock the next morning Bob and Joe were awakened by Mr. Lewis, and despite the fact that they were still very sleepy, they began the task of getting their belongings together. It took them the better part of an hour, although they worked like beavers.
“We’re ready to leave, boys, if you are,” called Dr. Kirshner, opening the door to their room. “The provisions are on the dromedaries, and Tishmak is ready.”
The youths’ hearts were in their mouths. Leave! Leave for the great Sahara Desert, with its mysteries and thrills and tragedies! They could hardly come to a full realization of the true situation.
“It’ll be great, Joe, old boy,” said Bob, deeply touched. “At the end of this expedition we’ll be full-fledged adventurers.”
The youths went down to the hotel lobby and found their fathers, Dr. Kirshner, and Fekmah. Tishmak, the newly engaged guide, had left forthe camels, which he promised to have in readiness.
Fekmah had made arrangements for a mule cart to take their belongings to the spot where the dromedaries were grazing. Bob and Joe had scarcely got the last of their bags down when it arrived, driven by a short, fat native who looked to be a cross between an Arab and a Negro.
The paraphernalia was placed in the wagon. Fekmah climbed up with the driver to direct him to the camels.
“Guess we’ve attended to everything,” said Dr. Kirshner. “Let’s get started. It’s a good ten-minute walk.”
When they reached the place they found Fekmah and Tishmak awaiting them. The packs had been strapped on the dromedaries’ backs, and the ropes had been harnessed from the back of one animal to the head of another, keeping them in single file.
“Well, let’s go,” urged Mr. Holton, after one more glance to make sure that everything was in preparation for the long desert journey.
The explorers got astride the ponderous humps, and then, while the master of camels gave them a cheery farewell, they moved out for the unknown.
The great desert journey had begun.
BEFORElong the little town of Wargla vanished from the horizon, and a sense of dread crept over Bob and Joe at the thought that they were now shut off completely from the outside world. What tragedies might befall them before they would again see the United States? There were all sorts of dangers out on that vast stretch of wasteland. Would their lives be threatened—and possibly lost?
Bob glanced back and saw the worried look on his chum’s face. That Joe’s thoughts had been the same as his was evident.
“Snap out of it, Joe, old man!” he said, rousing himself. “Think of the fun we’ll have. And the strange sights we’ll see. It’ll be great. And behind it all lies adventure.”
Joe nodded. His face took on a smile as he anticipated the coming events.
“Wonder what adventures we’ll have?” he mused. “But I suppose we’ll soon see.”
The boys were at the end of the little caravan,keeping an eye on the pack camels. Although ropes had been fastened from the back of one animal to the head of another, keeping them in single file, it was best to guard them closely, for anything might happen on the desert.
Tishmak, acting as the guide, was in the lead, followed by Dr. Kirshner and the youths’ fathers. Fekmah was in the middle of the line. The twenty dromedaries were spread out over perhaps a quarter of a mile and trotted at a speed that promised to cover many miles in a short time.
“I guess dromedaries don’t compare with camels when it comes to fast traveling,” remarked Joe, recalling something that Fekmah had said some time before. “The one-hump animal makes four times as much speed.”
In the early morning, as it was, the atmosphere was chilly. Bob and Joe welcomed the warmth of their tight-fitting coats.
“I never thought I’d need a wrap on the desert,” smiled Bob, fastening the collar around his neck.
“We’ll need more than coats at night, if what Dr. Kirshner said is true,” said Joe. “Gets cold as Greenland’s icy mountains.”
“Seems strange, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. But you remember it was the same way in Brazil. And that’s about as hot a country as there is anywhere.”
Soon the flat hill of Gara Krima, dominating the sandy plain, could be seen, its smooth surface tinted with many colors. Then it was left behind, and the explorers came to a region of loose sand. The dromedaries found it more difficult to plod through, and slackened their rapid pace somewhat. Although their feet were specially adapted for traveling on sand, they made much better time on hard surfaces.
“Look at the dust they’re making,” observed Bob, as a dense cloud of fine sand particles arose, making it necessary for the youths to ride a short distance to one side of the pack animals.
“They don’t believe in kicking it up, do they?” Joe said dryly.
After a while the sun came out in full splendor, sending its dazzling rays down on the scorched sand. Bob and Joe soon perspired freely, and were glad to remove their coats.
“Whew!” gasped Joe. “I’d give anything for a drink of water.”
“So would I,” his friend replied. “I’m going to ride on up and ask for one.”
“Remember me while you’re there.”
It was a good distance to the other end of the caravan, but the sure-footed dromedary trotted along briskly. Fekmah waved as Bob passed.
“How about a drink of water, Dad?” asked Bob, coming up to his father’s camel.
“Go to it,” was the answer. “We’ll come to a well before long, and refill the canteens.”
The third and fourth animals back were the water carriers, and Bob lost no time in filling his container. Then he drank freely of the refreshing liquid, and felt new life creep into him. Although warm, the water did wonders in quenching his thirst.
Again he filled the container and rode back to his friend, who was delighted.
“I was afraid they wouldn’t let you have it,” Joe said, wiping the perspiration from his brow.
“Wouldn’t have, only there’s a well not far away, and we’ll have a chance to refill the tanks.”
“Well, huh? Wonder if they’re this close together all along?”
“Let’s hope so.”
A little later the explorers passed a scattering of bones and skeletons that were partly covered with sand. They were dry from age, having probably been uncovered by a sandstorm.
“Camels’ bones, I suppose,” remarked Joe. “They’ve become overcome with thirst, most likely.”
“Who knows but that the skeletons of their riders are there some place, too,” said Bob, his face sober.
The sight was not a pleasant one, for it broughtto mind the fact that it was altogether too possible that their little caravan might perish for want of water also. Some time elapsed before the boys resumed their cheerful mood.
As they traveled on, the ground became strewn with small red pebbles that shone brightly in the dazzling sunlight.
“I guess most of the rocks here are red,” remarked Bob, who had studied books on the Sahara.
“Burned that color by the sun, huh?”
“Seems reasonable, doesn’t it? Come to think of it, though, the ground in the Land of Thirst is black.”
“The Land of Thirst?”
“Yes. I heard Fekmah talking about it this morning. It’s a region where there are few or no wells, and you have to be very careful to have a good supply of water in the tanks before you plunge into it.”
“Looks like even then it would be dangerous. What if a storm or something would hold you back for a long time?”
“Have to take that chance,” Bob replied. “Wouldn’t doubt that quite a few caravans come to a tragic end there.”
“Will we go through it?” Joe asked.
“Fekmah said we might,” was the response.
Finally they came to the well that Mr. Holton had told about. There was a steady flow of water, which was comparatively cool.
“Drink all you want,” said Dr. Kirshner. “Tishmak says we won’t see another for a long time.”
The explorers drank and drank, until they could hold no more. Then they began the task of replenishing the tanks. But as little had been taken out, this was finished in a very few minutes.
“Now let’s get on,” urged Mr. Lewis. “We want to cover a good many more miles yet before we stop for the noon meal.”
Another hour brought them again to a region of hard soil, and the dromedaries increased their pace several miles per hour.
“Wish it would stay like this all the way,” said Joe, noting that ground was being covered much faster.
“Won’t though. But we’ll have stretches of it here and there.”
As the minutes passed, the glare from the sand became more intense, and the temperature went steadily up. The boys had dark-colored glasses but hesitated to put them on so soon.
“Wouldn’t a good cold drink come in fine now?” asked Bob, keeping his hands off his canteen with difficulty.
“Sure would. But we must fight the temptationto drink too often,” returned Joe. “Remember, we’re on the desert now, and not in the mountains, where there are plenty of springs.”
They rode rapidly on, the country remaining about the same. The red pebbles, however, grew more numerous, some of them glowing like rubies.
Joe remarked that they were gradually ascending, and Bob nodded.
“There’s a line of high dunes over there,” he said, pointing to the distant horizon. “Fekmah said when we reach those we’ll have climbed a good many hundred feet. We should get to them tomorrow.”
In a short time they passed beyond the stretch of hard soil and again plodded through loose sand. From all indications, it was heated to a high degree by the fierce sun. How the dromedaries stood it was a mystery to the boys.
“I wonder how Tishmak can find the way to the Ahaggar Mountains?” mused Joe, glancing up ahead at the guide. “He isn’t using a compass.”
“Does seem strange,” Bob agreed. “But I suppose he’s been over the route so much that he knows all the landmarks by heart, though it looks like a sandstorm or something else would change the surface of the land.”
Mention of the Ahaggars brought to mind the possibilities of finding the hidden riches. Bob and Joe wondered if the two thieves who had causedthe explorers so much trouble would, with the aid of the stolen map, locate the treasure first. Perhaps they had already found the place and were gloating over the success of their wicked scheming. The youths said nothing, but the expression on their faces told what they would do to the men if given the opportunity.
“We’ll finally have a chance to square things,” thought Bob, gritting his teeth. “And oh, how those fellows will look when we’re through with them!”
A little later they came to a deep valley between the mounds of sand. In order for the camels to cross it they would find it necessary to climb the steep sides of the dune.
Mr. Lewis rode back to the boys.
“Have to be careful here,” he warned. “It’s rather steep near the top. Don’t let your mounts get out of control.”
The next instant he was on his way back to the front of the caravan.
The climb was hard and not a little dangerous, but the sure-footed dromedaries did not even threaten to slip.
They had barely reached the top when a cry of delight from Joe mingled with the scarcely less emotional exclamations of the others at sight of a small oasis not far away down the opposite slope. A number of tall date palms towered abovethe green grassy area, an indication that water was to be had for the taking.
“Hurrah!” cried Bob. “Water at last!”
“And if I’m not mistaken, we’ll find dates there, too,” put in Joe.
“You’re right,” affirmed Mr. Lewis, coming up from the side. “And this seems to be a good spot to stop for the noon meal. We’ll have it shady this afternoon when we take our midday rest.”
Nearer and nearer they were coming to the oasis, when suddenly, from behind a low dune of sand, appeared a small caravan of Arabs—possibly bandits.
“KEEPyour hands on your guns,” called Dr. Kirshner, as he gazed at the approaching party of Arabs.
There were ten of them, and each armed with a short range rifle, which, although inferior to the guns of the Americans, could do a great deal of damage. In addition to the mounts of the Arabs, there were six or seven pack camels that trailed.
As the caravan came nearer, Tishmak waved and shouted a friendly greeting, but he did not receive the same in return. Evidently the men had no friendly intentions.
Tishmak chattered a moment to Fekmah, who then turned to the Americans.
“They are probably nomad bandits,” Fekmah said excitedly. “Tishmak says we might have fight.”
“A fight!” cried Joe. “Why? Are they going to try to rob us?”
Fekmah nodded.
“Worse, perhaps,” he replied.
“Those fellows would think nothing of killing all of us,” said Mr. Lewis gravely. “So we want to be ready for anything that might happen.”
As the Arabs came nearer, their leader shouted something to Tishmak, whose jaw dropped in surprise and astonishment.
Tishmak turned to Fekmah and conversed rapidly. Then Fekmah translated to the Americans.
“They want two of our camels,” he said nervously.
Dr. Kirshner gasped in amazement.
“Want two ofourcamels?” he cried, his voice indicating a high state of anger.
“What for?” demanded Bob.
“They say theirs are too much loaded,” Fekmah answered. “Want to spread out packs on more camels.”
“Well, of all the nerve!” exclaimed Mr. Holton. “Tell them to get out of here—and get out quick, or we’ll fill them full of holes!”
Fekmah turned to the Arabs and put Mr. Holton’s command before them. Then an answer came.
“They say they go, but we will be sorry,” interpreted Fekmah, as the men turned their camels in the opposite direction.
A moment later they disappeared behind a low dune, leaving a cloud of dust at their heels.
For a moment there was silence among the explorers. Then Mr. Lewis spoke up.
“I don’t like this,” he said, greatly annoyed. “Those men are likely to slip up on us when we’re not expecting them. And such desperate characters would lose no time in shooting us.”
“But what can we do?” questioned Bob.
“Keep on the lookout is all,” returned Mr. Holton. “But I’d feel much safer if this hadn’t happened.”
The explorers rode on into the oasis and dismounted. It seemed pleasing to see green trees and grass again. They were delighted that good fortune had enabled them to find an oasis at a time when it was wise to stop for a meal and rest.
There was good water not far away, and they drank all they wanted, glad of the chance to quench their rapidly overpowering thirst.
“Now,” began Mr. Holton, “we’re going to have something to eat. But first let’s put up the tents. It isn’t wise to be in such a sun as this.”
The bags of supplies were removed from the camels. Then the tents were taken out and put up by Bob and Joe. Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton got out the food and soon laid out a delicious meal of canned goods and native products.
“Eat all you want, but don’t gorge yourselves,” cautioned Mr. Holton, as they sat about the tent. “There’s plenty of stuff, but still we must be careful.If we’re to be gone any length of time, we’ll have to use our provisions sparingly.”
They ate quietly, taking it easy in the shade of the tent. The heat of the fierce African sun was somewhat abated by the heavy canvas, which would also serve as a shelter from sand storms, should any come up.
When the meal was over, they sat for a few minutes talking. Then Fekmah got up and went over to the corner of the tent.
“Let us sleep for two or three hours,” he said, curling up on the soft soil. “The sun will soon get so hot that we cannot travel without making sick.”
“Suits me,” agreed Joe. “I feel like I could sleep for two or three days.”
“One of us had better stand guard, though,” said Mr. Lewis. “That bandit caravan might return unexpectedly.”
“I’ll do it,” volunteered Dr. Kirshner. “I’m not sleepy. I’ll just take it easy here and read.”
For the next three hours Bob and Joe slept soundly, forgetting that they were under a scorching desert sun. They were not tired, but were extremely drowsy from the heat.
Then suddenly they were awakened with a start. They looked about wonderingly.
Dr. Kirshner stood over them, holding his rifle in readiness.
“The bandits!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I believe they’re coming!”
Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis jumped to their feet and grabbed their guns. Cautiously they peered out, holding the flap but a few inches up.
“Where are they?” demanded Bob’s father, while Tishmak and Fekmah ran forward.
“I’m not sure that it’s they,” the archæologist said. “But I heard camel steps a moment ago, and in this country it is best to investigate before it’s too late.”
A second later Tishmak stopped still and listened. He held up a hand for silence. Fekmah had also caught a sound.
“It’s they,” he whispered. “Camels! They’re coming this way!”
The swishing sound increased, and Dr. Kirshner called his friends together for a plan of defense.
“Chances are those bandits were planning on surprising us while we slept,” he said quietly. “They figured that the time to get the camels they wanted was during our afternoon siesta. But it apparently didn’t occur to them that we would set a guard.
“Now the thing for us to do is get together and give them a real welcome with bullets. They’ll probably come around the back of the oasis, where our dromedaries are grazing. We’ll go aroundthere and hide beside that sand dune. Then when the robbers—and I think that’s who the newcomers are—come, we’ll fire a volley of bullets into the air. If we find we can’t frighten them away, we’ll shoot their camels from under them. Then if that fails, we’ll have to shoot the men.”
The others thought this good advice.
“We must act cautiously, though,” warned Mr. Lewis, as they made their way to the back of the oasis.
When they came to the dune, they crouched down and waited. Tishmak glanced around the corner.
A moment later he drew back, his face scowling. He mumbled quietly to Fekmah.
“They’re coming,” the latter said. “And they are the robbers.”
The swishing of footsteps grew louder, indicating that the Arabs were coming nearer.
“Now!” said Mr. Lewis. “Fire in line, aiming at the sky. Then we’ll see what happens.”
Seven rifles spoke up in rapid succession, a dense cloud of smoke arising.
That the robbers had been totally surprised was certain, for a loud chattering followed. Then the sand was thrown up, and they rode off at lightning speed.
Joe peeped around the corner of the dune.
“They aren’t going far,” he announced, followingthe Arabs’ movements closely. “They’ve stopped behind that sand hill over there.”
“By George!” exclaimed Mr. Holton. “They’re going to plant a battery, are they? Well, just let them waste their ammunition. We won’t fire until necessary.”
“We may need our bullets to use on those two thieves who stole Fekmah’s map,” said Bob to his chum, smiling.
The explorers waited ten minutes for the robbers to take the aggressive, but they did not.
“Well,” said Dr. Kirshner, turning about, “I’m going over and get our things packed back on the dromedaries. If nothing prevents, we want to get started in a short time now. It is much cooler, and we should cover a good distance by night.”
“We’ll stay here and guard a few minutes longer,” declared Mr. Lewis. “There’s no telling what those fellows may do.”
Suddenly a sound from the opposite direction caused them to turn about. Then their expressions changed.
Not fifty feet down the slope were the robbers, riding at full speed toward the explorers. The Arabs had their rifles in position to fire, which they were undoubtedly intending to do when slightly nearer.
“Quick!” cried Bob, his voice cool but determined. “Fire at them before they get us!”
A moment later he took careful aim and pulled the trigger.
His rifle cracked, and the foremost camel went down, sending its rider sprawling over the ground.
Bang! came the sound of Mr. Lewis’s gun, and another camel fell.
The eight Arabs who were still mounted wheeled about and galloped back hurriedly. As quickly as possible they formed a wide line, one beside the other, until it stretched several rods.
“They’re going to charge!” observed Dr. Kirshner. “Have your rifles in position, and make every shot count.”
When the bandits were confident of their formation, their leader gave the command, and bending low over their camels, they dashed with all speed toward the explorers.
Shots rang out from the Arabs’ pistols, but they were too unsteady to cause any damage.
The explorers’ rifles spoke out, and those of Bob and the naturalists found their marks.
Again the rifles cracked. Three more camels went down simultaneously. Now only two of the animals remained on foot, but they were halted abruptly by their panic-stricken riders.
“Luckily we downed the leader,” remarked Mr. Lewis. “And now,” he added, “suppose we get away from here at once. There will be nodanger of those men starving, for this oasis will furnish them with food and drink. They can wait for another caravan to furnish them with more camels.”
Without hesitation the party placed the packs back on the dromedaries and rode off, Tishmak in the van.
A few pistol bullets whizzed past uncomfortably close, but soon they died down as the Arabs saw the futility of their efforts.
“Whew! That was some experience,” remarked Bob, when they were well out of sight of the oasis. “I hope we see no more such fellows.”
“And you’re not the only one,” said Dr. Kirshner, shaking his head. “But the desert swarms with bandits, and it will be strange if we don’t have another such encounter.”
“Maybe we won’t have such good luck the next time,” mused Joe.
“Nonsense!” Bob retorted. “We’ll drive them off the same as we did these men.”
“But you got that wrong,” corrected Mr. Holton, smiling. “They madeusget away.”
Bob looked a little sheepish as he saw where he had been caught.
“Well, anyway,” he grinned, “they didn’t get us.”
As they plodded on, the sand became looser than ever before. The dromedaries, however, didnot seem to notice the change. They plodded on with the same stiff steps.
After two hours of constant traveling, the adventurers found themselves in a narrow valley between two high sand dunes. The country was gradually losing its level character and was steadily becoming more hilly.