Suddenly Mr. Holton gave a cry of delight and pointed to something not far away.
“WHATis it?” asked Bob, slow to catch sight of the object.
“Gazelles,” returned his father. “A small herd of them.”
In a moment the agile animals came running out in full view of all, their beautiful coats showing clearly in the bright sunlight.
The creatures were about a hundred yards away, not any too near for an accurate shot, but the naturalists were much in desire of several as specimens.
Their long-distance rifles were equipped with telescopes, making it much easier, according to the naturalists, to sight an object at a hundred yards or more. Bob’s gun, however, did not have this convenience.
Mr. Lewis prepared to take aim.
“You take the animal to the extreme right, Howard,” he said to Mr. Holton. “Bob, you pick the one in the middle, and I’ll try to get one at theleft. Tom,” he said to Dr. Kirshner, “suppose you count to three. When you say three we’ll all fire together. Let’s go, now.”
“One, two, THREE.”
Bang! Three rifles spoke as one.
Mr. Holton cried out in delight.
“Hurrah!” he said. “Got all of the ones we aimed at. Good work.”
The report of the guns caused great disorder in the herd, the graceful creatures leaping about at a speed that did their thin, muscular legs full justice. Before long they had disappeared behind the sand dunes.
“Now we’ll ride over and see what the ones killed look like,” said Mr. Lewis.
As the dead gazelles were not in a direction that would take the explorers off their steady course, the pack camels were driven along also.
When they reached the spot, Joe cried out in amazement at sight of the gazelles’ sleek skin. It was of a yellowish brown color, and the abdomen was as white as snow. The legs were long and thin, narrowing down to a finely shaped hoof.
“As beautiful an animal as one can find,” declared Mr. Lewis, who with Mr. Holton had been everywhere and knew what he was talking about.
“Two males and a female,” observed Bob’s father, noting the curved horns of the former.
“Look at the eyes,” said Joe. “They’re almost jet black.”
The naturalists began at once the task of removing the skins, for it was best not to leave them on too long under such a sun.
As soon as this was completed they were placed in a solution of alum that had been prepared by Dr. Kirshner under the naturalists’ directions.
“In our opinion, that’s the best preservative there is,” remarked Mr. Holton, “although there are many others in use.”
It required the better part of two hours to complete the task. The sun was just beginning to sink behind the distant mounds when they were ready to continue the journey.
“Be dark before long,” predicted Fekmah. “Then we will have to stop and wait for the moon. If you have not before traveled on desert under moon, you have much to see.”
They plodded continually on, Bob and Joe occasionally taking motion pictures. As the heat gradually became less intense, the youths felt a thrill of exultation run through their veins. Now there was nothing to worry about, no fierce sun to sweat under, no cares or anxieties to occupy their minds. Life—life on the boundless Sahara—seemed great.
“The folks back home are sure missing something,” smiled Bob. “Though I suppose a lot of them wouldn’t care for doings of this kind.”
Slowly the darkness came. At last, when the little caravan was in a notch between two unusually high dunes, Tishmak called a halt and conversed with Fekmah. Then the latter turned to the Americans.
“Tishmak says it is not thing to go on through darkness,” he told them. “Might come on to something bad. We’ll wait here for moon to come out, then go on.”
“Now’s a good chance to get our suppers,” said Dr. Kirshner, commanding his dromedary to lower.
By the aid of flashlights a limited but satisfying meal was prepared on paper, and the adventurers all ate heartily.
“Too bad there’s nothing for the camels,” said Mr. Lewis.
“No need of worrying about them,” returned Fekmah. “They can have no food or drink for good many days. Soon we come to region of thin vegetation. Then they eat.”
After the meal the explorers stretched out on the now cool sand, glad of a chance to rest their tired limbs. The constant jolting of the dromedaries had contributed much toward fatiguing them.
“Now’s the time when a coat comes in handy,” said Bob, reaching into his bag on the camel’s back.
“Wait till dawn, if you want to see real cold weather,” came from Dr. Kirshner. “Isn’t that right, Fekmah?”
The Arab nodded.
“Temperature often gets down to thirty-five degrees,” he said.
Before long the moon came out in full splendor, flooding the vast expanse with enchanting light and creating a scene beautiful beyond description. The sand looked white all about, broken only by an occasional ripple caused by the wind. The brilliant moon was surrounded by a large white circle, which seemed to throw silver darts on the dunes. In the distance were groups of luminous clouds, whose ragged edges were transparent. It was a wonderful sight, and the explorers sat for some time as though transfixed.
“Never saw anything like it in my life!” exclaimed Mr. Holton, his breath almost taken away by the magnificent spectacle.
“Wonder if we’re dreaming?” mused Joe, also fascinated.
Fekmah and Tishmak had been out to witness such a spectacle before, but seemed to think no less of it.
“I guess here’s a case where familiarity doesn’t breed contempt,” laughed Mr. Lewis, his eyes on the Arabs.
Bob got out the movie camera, intent upon takingseveral scenes that would be “really different.”
“Moonlight always makes a good impression on a motion-picture audience,” remarked Joe. “And away out here on the Sahara—well, it’ll seem wonderful!”
Tishmak made signs that they move on, and the others were glad to do so. Since there was so much light, it would be easy to find their way.
They were now in a region of high sand hills, with still no rocks other than the small bright-colored pebbles that were scattered about. Vegetation began to be more numerous in the form ofhad,drinn, and other plants, which were occasionally eaten by the dromedaries.
“I wonder if Fekmah is sure he’s headed right?” said Bob, as he and his friend again took their places at the end of the caravan.
“He doesn’t seem to be having any trouble yet,” was the reply. “You remember he made another map from memory after the first one was stolen. Chances are he knows where he’s going.”
“If he doesn’t, we probably won’t find the hidden riches,” was Bob’s return.
They trudged on, up and down the sand hills, until about ten o’clock. Then Tishmak called a halt.
“We camp here for night,” announced Fekmah, after a short conference with the guide. “It notwise to go any farther tonight. We get a sleep; then start on in morning.”
“I was just thinking it’s about time,” laughed Dr. Kirshner.
Tishmak had purposely picked out a deep gulch between the mounds as the stopping place. This would be a fair precaution against the nomad bandits who were reputed to be in this region.
“Takes a guide to know what’s best,” remarked Bob, observing the high walls of sand all about them. “The country in this vicinity is so rough that a caravan wouldn’t come anywhere near it, especially later on, when it will be pitch dark.”
The explorers dismounted and got out the tent. The poles were put up, and in a short time everything was in readiness for the night’s sleep.
“Curl up tightly in your blankets,” advised Mr. Lewis, as he prepared to occupy a corner of the tent. “It will be very cold along toward dawn.”
“And will we sleep!” said Bob, throwing himself down in relaxation.
Bob’s prediction proved right. The boys enjoyed the deep slumber that only an explorer can experience. It was wholly unexpected that they be awakened at dawn by their elders.
“It’s a dirty trick!” grinned Joe, as his father urged him to fully awaken.
“I know,” the naturalist said sympathetically.“But we must be on our way before the sun gets so hot that traveling will be dangerous.”
But once up, it was easy to forget sleepiness and enjoy the early-morning air.
“Talk about cold!” cried Joe, shivering in spite of the fact that he was wrapped in a heavy coat. “I’ll bet the old mercury is down to thirty degrees.”
“Not quite that bad,” laughed Dr. Kirshner, holding up a thermometer. “It’s thirty-eight.”
“Even that is cold for the desert,” said Bob. “I always had the impression that it is hot all the time.”
“There are some places that way,” returned Mr. Lewis. “But certainly not the old Sahara.”
Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton got out the provisions and began preparing the breakfast.
“And while they’re doing that, suppose we go up to the top of this mound,” suggested Bob to his chum. “It’s rather high. Maybe we can get a view of the country ahead of us.”
“Don’t be gone long, boys,” called Dr. Kirshner, as they made their way to the edge of the hill.
The sand under their feet was, in many places, loose and unstable, but they found sufficient hard spots to make safe footholds. It was not a little difficult to estimate where they could safely climb higher. Perspiration was dripping from themwhen they at last reached the top and turned their gaze toward the horizon.
A cry of astonishment came from Joe at the scene that was spread out before them. The dunes that stretched away in the distance were tinted with many colors, showing strangely in the early-morning light. Some were pink, others blue, still others green, while the ones farther away paled away into nothingness.
“That’s a new one on me,” remarked Bob, highly puzzled. “I never expected anything like this.”
“Nor I. Wonder what causes it?”
“Beyond me.”
They stood for some time gazing at the varicolored mounds. Then Joe turned about.
“Better get back to camp,” he suggested. “Breakfast may be ready.”
They were about to retrace their footsteps when they heard a rustling sound but a few feet away.
“What’s that?” muttered Bob, sensing that danger was at hand.
The youths glanced around—and then shrank back in horror!
“A hornedviper!” exclaimed Bob fearfully, recognizing the long, sinister body that was coiled almost at their feet.
“And it’s going to strike!” cried Joe. “Get your pistol—quick! We’ll both fire at it. Oh, how I wish we had our rifles!”
The snake was preparing to lunge forward, its terrible head swaying slowly from side to side. Whether or not the fangs contained poison, the boys did not know, but they knew they could not take a chance.
Neither Bob nor Joe was an outstanding shot with a revolver, and they felt rather panic-stricken as they raised the weapons and took aim.
After a few seconds that seemed to the youths like hours, Bob pulled the trigger.
A moment later the cold sweat burst out on his forehead, as he saw that he had missed. Before he could take another aim, the reptile would be upon him, a mass of scaly ferocity.
Bang!
Joe’s pistol spoke out, and the bullet caught the snake in the neck, just as it was about to strike.
Another shot from Joe’s automatic struck in a vital spot. The fiendish head turned violently, then fell to the ground with a thud. The tail twitched about momentarily, and as life passed out, the horrible body lay still.
It was some time before Bob and Joe could regain their natural peace of mind, for the strain had been great. Their hearts were beating rapidly from the unusual mental exertion.
“A narrow escape!” breathed Joe, putting his gun back in its holster.
“Thanks to you, old boy, we came out alive,” praised Bob, giving his friend an affectionate pat on the back. “It was your coolness and determination that sent those bullets in the right place. I was too nervous, I guess.”
“But say,” began Joe, turning aside the commendation of his friend, “our dads might want this fellow as a specimen. Do you suppose they would? Those bullets didn’t shatter it as a rifle cartridge would have.”
The youths were not particularly anxious to handle the long, scaly body, but they felt it their duty to do all they could for their fathers.
“What say we take it to the edge of the hill and roll it down?” suggested Bob. “The way is gradual and there are no protruding crags to tear it.”
“All right. We never can carry it without falling ourselves.”
The reptile was pushed over the side of the dune, and the boys made their way down. They slid more than climbed, but reached the bottom uninjured.
Mr. Lewis came out to meet them, on his face a look of anxiety.
“What kept you so long?” he asked.
“That over there,” replied Joe, pointing to the snake, which lay but a few feet away.
The naturalist ran over to it. Then he straightened up in surprise.
“A horned viper,” he pronounced. “Where’d you find it?”
Bob related the narrow escape at the top of the dune, not forgetting to point out Joe’s part in killing the reptile. When he had finished, Mr. Lewis shook his head gravely.
“Never leave camp without your rifles,” he warned them. “In a strange land anything is likely to happen.”
During breakfast the youths’ experience with the viper was the chief topic for conversation. Tishmak looked at the boys with a new respect as he heard the account of their daring deed.
As soon as the morning meal was over, the tent and provisions were packed back on the dromedaries, and the explorers continued their journey.
“How much ground did we probably cover yesterday?” asked Dr. Kirshner of Fekmah, as they followed a narrow way between the rolling sand dunes.
“At least a hundred miles,” the Arab answered. “Perhaps many more. Dromedaries trot rather rapid.”
“Then, at that rate, it shouldn’t take us so very long to reach the Ahaggaras, should it?” asked Joe, who with Bob had not yet taken his place at the end of the caravan.
“No. But something could keep us back. Maybe storm, or could be bandits. Never know about that.”
As the explorers moved on, they occasionally saw small animals and birds. The naturalists were constantly on the lookout, shooting any creature that came within range of their guns. Among the victims of their marksmanship were desert larks, rats, hares, lizards, and a small animal called the ferrec.
Bob and Joe kept their time occupied in taking motion pictures of the country they were passing through. By the time that their caravan had stopped for the midday meal, the boys had “rolled off” a good many hundred feet of film.
“Here’s hoping our moving pictures here prove to be as successful as those that we took in Brazil,”said Joe, as he took out a bag of rations from a camel’s pack.
“If they do, the Neuman Film Corporation may give us a job on every future expedition we might make with our dads,” came from Bob.
Thus far the day’s traveling had not yet brought them to an oasis. Tishmak informed them that water would probably not be found until late the next night. The containers, however, held a large supply, making it unnecessary for the explorers to worry.
“It’s a good thing the dromedaries don’t need it often,” said Mr. Lewis, as he went about preparing the meal.
“Four or five days is often enough for them,” put in Mr. Holton. “They can go much longer than that, but it isn’t wise to risk it.”
It was about eleven o’clock, the time advisable to begin the usual afternoon rest. Bob and Joe were glad of the chance to escape the heat of the fierce sun. Even in the morning it was too hot for comfort, although nothing compared to the baking atmosphere of the afternoon. The youths were tanned so dark as to resemble Arabs.
“Funny,” smiled Joe. “Back in the United States we fellows wanted to get burned by the sun. Here we try to keep out from under it.”
“All goes to prove that circumstances alter cases,” laughed Dr. Kirshner.
The tent was again pitched, and the meal eaten. This time, however, water was used sparingly. The adventurers did not wish to run the risk of getting dangerously short.
It was thought best to set a guard again while the others slept or idly rested on the cool sand. Mr. Holton took the job, sitting in the shade of the tent facing the resting dromedaries.
“Chances are nothing will turn up, though,” he said, and proved to be right.
Sharply at three o’clock Dr. Kirshner was up stretching himself and suggesting that they continue the journey.
“It isn’t the thing to wait too long,” he reminded his friends, “even if we are drowsy. By night we want to have covered another hundred miles or more. I’m especially anxious to reach the mountainous region and see what I can find in the way of records of ancient peoples who might have lived there before the desert became a desert,” he added, laughing.
The others were more than willing to start on. When sleepiness or drowsiness threatened to overpower them at the wrong time, the thought of the two thieves who had stolen Fekmah’s map spurred them on to action.
“I don’t know that it is necessary to set a guard while we take our afternoon rests,” remarked Fekmahcasually, as they packed the tent back in its place for the journey.
The Americans looked at him wonderingly.
“The dromedaries will give us warning,” he explained. “They are much uneasy if stranger come near camp. They jump up and make noise.”
“A bit like watchdogs, are they?” said Mr. Holton. “Well, we’ll give them a tryout the next time.”
They again took up the journey, winding in and out among the rolling sand hills. Occasionally they would come to a dune several hundred feet high. They seemed to be gradually mounting higher, for the camels did not move as rapidly as before.
Vegetation increased still more, giving the dromedaries an opportunity to nibble often on the various plants and shrubs. A few scattered trees began to be seen, their sharp thorns protruding threateningly.
“Camels don’t bother with thorns,” remarked Bob. “They know just where to take a mouthful without cutting their mouths.”
“And they aren’t particular about their diet, either,” Joe added, remembering what Fekmah had told him some time before. “Leather, paper, wood—almost anything will satisfy their appetites.”
At last they came to the region of high sand dunes that were visible the day before. Many ofthe hills towered five and six hundred feet, and a few were much higher than that. The explorers were lucky in finding a narrow lane that passed between the mounds. How long the good fortune would continue, they did not know.
“Getting to look more like the dunes in Indiana, back in the United States,” remarked Joe. “But of course these stretch a hundred times as far.”
In some places the ground was hard and brittle, while in others it was strewn with loose sand.
At last the lane stopped, and the adventurers found themselves face to face with a high hill.
“Guess we’ll have to climb it,” said Mr. Holton, looking about. “There is no other way out. The sand seems to be hard and safe enough. And it could be a great deal steeper.”
“Let dromedaries go slowly,” cautioned Fekmah. “Do not hurry them.”
They began the dangerous ascent, keeping their eyes glued to the ground. Slowly the camels trudged up, feeling their steps carefully.
They were almost to the top when suddenly the ground gave way from under Joe’s dromedary. The animal fell to its knees, struggled for a moment, and fell backward.
With a wild shout Joe plunged from the animal’s back and went rolling helplessly down the hill!
DOWNthe steep slope Joe went, powerless to catch himself. There were no shrubs or stalks to grip, no hard soil to cling to.
His mind was in a whirl. Where would he land? How far had he yet to go? He comforted himself in the thought that there were no rocks or tree trunks to dash against, but if the soil at the bottom of the hill happened to be hard, his doom might be sealed. Already he could feel the jar and pain of suddenly coming to an abrupt stop on unyielding ground.
Down, down he went, past the pack camels that were still slowly climbing the steep side of the mound, lucky enough to have been missed by the falling camel.
Joe caught a momentary glimpse of his own dromedary, which was also rolling rapidly down.
Suddenly he felt a severe jar and gradually came to a stop in the soft sand at the foot of the dune.
A moment later he glanced up fearfully, as hesaw his dromedary coming down at him with lightning rapidity.
He tried to rise and dash to one side, but his feet failed to respond to his efforts. They had been numbed by the jar of striking the ground.
The falling camel was almost upon him now. Something must be done at once!
Summoning all his strength, he threw his body to the right of the oncoming animal. It was an act of desperation, and he felt sure that it would fail. But a moment later there was a rush, the sound of swishing sand, and the animal whisked past, stirring up a dense cloud of fine soil.
Joe gave a sigh of relief and for a brief period sank back down on the sand, as though waiting for his strength to be restored. Then he was up, looking for the fallen camel.
It had come to a stop in a drift of loose sand and appeared to be uninjured. But it was snorting and kicking furiously, its anger visibly heightened to a high degree.
Joe ran over to it and attempted to give aid, but the furious dromedary kicked at him in a rage.
Mr. Lewis and Bob came running down, finding footholds with difficulty.
“Wait!” cautioned the naturalist. “Don’t hurry the camel. Let him take his time. His fit of anger will be over in a few minutes,” and then added: “That was some fall! We were afraid you’d behurt seriously. No bones broken, are there?”
“I guess not,” Joe replied. “Just shaken up a bit. I’m afraid the dromedary is hurt more than I. Don’t see what could prevent it.”
“You may be right,” his father said solemnly. “We’ll find out in a minute.”
Before long the animal’s anger lessened, and it tried to rise. But its legs refused to move, despite the frantic efforts.
Mr. Lewis’s face took on an expression of anxiety. He bent down and felt of the struggling legs. Then he straightened up and shook his head hopelessly.
“Broken,” he muttered in a tense voice. “Two legs are broken.”
“What!” cried Mr. Holton, who, along with the others, had managed to scramble down the hill.
“Look for yourselves,” Mr. Lewis said gravely. “The camel’s weight was too great to come continually against the rather fragile limbs, and the hind ones snapped in two.”
The explorers’ faces were greatly sobered by the dread discovery. Now there was but one thing to do. The unfortunate beast must be left to die a slow and torturing death. There was no other way out, for the legs could not be set, and the beast could not be taken on.
Mr. Holton unstrapped his rifle from his shoulder.
“I’m going to put an end to it,” he said with a sudden decision. “It seems only humane, for otherwise death will come slowly and horribly.”
He walked over to a small elevation along the side of the dune, while his friends moved away to a safe distance.
After a moment of careful aim, he pulled the trigger.
The high-velocity bullet sped true, penetrating the brain.
There was but one spasmodic movement; then the camel rolled over, dead.
For some time the explorers were silent. It was not pleasant to see the useful dromedary come to such an end. Finally Joe began the ascent of the dune.
“It’ll seem strange without that camel,” he said. “How will I manage to have a mount?”
“You’ll have to take one of the pack animals,” returned Dr. Kirshner. “We’ll divide the supplies among the others and get along some way. If we do the right kind of scheming, I don’t believe the other camels will notice the extra load.”
It was difficult work climbing the treacherous slope of the dune. Many times their feet would scarcely find a foothold when the sand would give way, making it necessary for them to sprawl out or clutch one another in order to prevent rolling down.
At last they reached the top and began dividing the provisions among nine of the ten pack dromedaries. It required over an hour to complete the task, for it was difficult to find places for all their belongings.
“Now you may find it hard to get used to the strange camel,” said Mr. Holton, as Joe straddled the kneeling animal. “He may act up and threaten to throw you, but stick to it. It won’t take long to show him you mean business.”
“He’s been broken in some,” remarked Fekmah. “Though it may been good time since he had rider.”
Much to their surprise the dromedary responded to Joe’s commands at once, resigning himself over to his new master.
“And am I glad!” the youth exclaimed, as the little caravan prepared to resume the journey.
“That’s rather an exceptional piece of luck,” smiled Mr. Holton. “Usually it takes a good while for a camel to get used to its new rider.”
The explorers continued the journey, although they realized that they could cover but a few more miles before dark. Already the sun was beginning to sink behind the distant hills, tinting the dunes many colors.
“Didn’t get as far today as we did yesterday,” observed Bob, as the boys waited for Tishmak to find a suitable stopping place.
The guide found the place he wanted between two large dunes, which were spread out over a large amount of ground.
“Tishmak say we wait here and get supper,” said Fekmah, after a moment of conversation in the native tongue. “Then when moon come out, we go on and try to make up for lost time.”
“That suits me,” agreed Dr. Kirshner. “Almost anything would satisfy my appetite right now.”
The explorers dismounted and prepared the meal, which after the strenuous hours of constant traveling tasted delicious. Then they sat quietly in the semidarkness.
At last the moon came out, and the desert was again seen to take on a new appearance. The sand was even more beautiful than the night before, white as it was from the soft light.
Tishmak motioned for the adventurers to mount their dromedaries and get under way. If they expected to get over much more territory, it would be necessary to hurry.
“Here’s hoping we can come up to our hundred-mile minimum,” said Joe, urging his camel to trot faster.
It was nearly ten o’clock when they finally stopped for the night’s slumber. Fekmah was well satisfied with the distance they had made that day.
“Tomorrow we will come to Tudemait Plateau,”he said, after conversing with Tishmak. “It is a rocky region, with large black boulders.”
“Then we won’t see any more sand dunes?” asked Bob.
“No. The country will be rather level, but we will have to go many kilometers out of way to avoid rocks.”
“That’ll suit me,” put in Joe. “I’m tired of seeing nothing but sand.”
That night they trusted to good fortune and did not set a guard. Tishmak informed them that there was little danger of robbers in that region, and the alertness of the camels would be an added precaution.
“We are nearing the country of the Tuaregs,” explained Fekmah. “These natives are friendly, but drive away nomad robbers. We probably be safe tonight.”
And they were. The next morning they had completely regained their natural liveliness and pep, feeling thoroughly refreshed and ready for anything the day might bring.
Breakfast over, the long journey was resumed.
As Tishmak had predicted, the country gradually began to change. The sand dunes that had recently been high slowly became smaller and lower, and vegetation increased still more. Small rocks were everywhere, their color a dark gray or black.In the distance the sharp crags of the Tudemait Plateau could be seen.
As the explorers neared a low long mound, Tishmak’s dromedary suddenly halted and sniffed nervously. A moment later the animals of the other explorers also came to a stop.
“What’s this!” exclaimed Mr. Lewis, looking about wonderingly.
“Guess they heard something,” said Dr. Kirshner. “What it was, we’ll see in a moment. They have an uncanny power of detecting noises that we men can’t catch.”
Tishmak unstrapped his rifle and motioned for the others to do likewise.
“Wonder if it’s bandits,” muttered Joe, holding his gun in readiness.
The sound of camels’ footsteps now reached the adventurers’ ears. Then from behind a hill appeared a long trading caravan of Arabs, who also had their rifles in readiness.
Tishmak rushed forward, throwing his hands apart in a gesture of friendliness. He was followed by Fekmah and the others.
As soon as the Arabs saw that the whites meant no harm, they stopped and talked freely. Much to Dr. Kirshner’s delight, he could understand the men easily, their language differing greatly from that of Tishmak.
The Americans learned that the caravan was onits way to Wargla, loaded with a large supply of dried dates, grapes, and many other products of the desert oases. It was made up of over seven hundred camels, which were in a line several miles long.
“Look at the leader,” said Joe to his chum, referring to the head camel. “It’s decorated with about as many colors as there are.”
“Want to make a good showing,” smiled Bob. “From what I’ve heard, a caravan is judged by how well the first camel is engulfed by colors.”
Much as the explorers would have liked to talk with the Arabs, they did not stop long. Time was too valuable to be wasted, especially when they were literally running a race with the two thieves who had stolen Fekmah’s map.
But before they left, Bob and Joe took motion pictures of the caravan at several distances. Especially were the youths pleased by the friendly attitude of the Arabs when the camera was held before them.
“Doubt if they know what it’s all about,” smiled Bob. “But that doesn’t keep the pictures from being good.”
“Wouldn’t they be surprised if they could see themselves on the screen!” laughed Joe. “They’d probably think something supernatural was taking place.”
With a cheery farewell the American expeditionleft the Arabs at the head of the trading caravan and again took up the journey. But it required nearly a half-hour to pass the last of the pack camels, which were guarded at intervals of every fifty animals by an armed Arab.
“Seven hundred camels is a good many,” remarked Bob, as the youths rode at the rear of their own pack animals. “Their owner must have a good bit of money.”
“Many of those Arabs are wealthy, I guess,” said Joe. “Fekmah said some have as many as two thousand camels.”
As the explorers moved on, they saw other signs of small game. Occasionally Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis displayed their skill with a rifle by shooting creatures from a great distance.
“Seems to be getting a little darker,” remarked Joe, as they descended into a little valley.
“Darker? Couldn’t be.”
Then, as Bob gazed ahead at the opposite slope, he uttered an exclamation of bewilderment.
“Itisgetting darker!” he cried. “Why—why, it’s impossible. Dark at nine in the morning! Something’s wrong somewhere!”
A second later Mr. Holton rode up to the boys anxiously.
“Get out your goggles!” he directed them. “We seem to be riding into a fog of black dust. Tishmak thinks we may have to stop for the day.”
“WHAT!”cried Bob excitedly. “Stop for the day! We—we can’t. Our time is worth too much!”
The naturalist laughed unwillingly.
“This time it’s a question of what we have to do,” he said dryly. “If the blackness increases, it will be suicide to plunge through it with so many rocks and walls of stone near.”
The boys and Mr. Holton rode on up to the front of the caravan, where Tishmak and Fekmah were visibly moved with fear.
The darkness was becoming more intense with every minute. Soon the explorers could not see one another.
“It might be well to get off our dromedaries,” suggested Mr. Lewis. “If this is to continue long, it won’t pay to remain mounted.”
“This is likely to mean a loss of several hours,” said Fekmah gravely. “Then again, the fog of dust might pass away in but few minutes.”
“Worst thing about it is the difficulty to breathe,” pointed out Dr. Kirshner. “Tragedy hasbeen known to come upon caravans in this manner.”
It was indeed stifling, but the adventurers managed to get air through the dust. They feared every minute that time would bring about an impossibility to breathe.
Much to their relief, that dread moment did not come, and after a half-hour the blackness gradually thinned out until it again became light.
“Thank goodness!” breathed Mr. Lewis. “Now let’s get on our way again.”
Still more the country was changing. The rocks became more jagged, taking on many shapes and forms. Small trees and plants became more abundant, causing the region to resemble certain areas of the American desert. And along with this plant life came numerous traces of wild animals.
“Wish we would run across a fox,” said Joe. “I’m anxious to shoot anything.”
“Probably will,” returned Bob. “I guess there are not only foxes but jackals and other small game. There should be much more here than in the sandy section.”
The party stopped at eleven o’clock for the meal and midday rest. This time the dromedaries alone were to be the guards, for they had already proved their efficiency in detecting unusual noises.
At two they were again on their way, climbing a gentle slope widespread with sharp rocks.
“Seems strange to get away from the sand dunes,” remarked Bob. “It hardly is like a desert now.”
As they passed up a rocky hill, Fekmah called a halt.
“We have come to the Tudemait Plateau,” he announced, getting out the map that he had made from memory. “That sharp peak in the distance is one of the landmarks. Now we pass through this plateau for rest of today and part of tomorrow; then come to another sandy stretch.”
“Then what?” inquired Mr. Holton.
“Get to Ahaggar Mountains,” the Arab replied. “We have to follow compass more close from now on, because must see peak called Illiman. Then we know we near treasure.”
“And here’s hoping those two thieves haven’t gotten there first and taken everything away,” said Joe.
That afternoon they came to a small well and refilled their containers, which were beginning to get low. Despite the fact that the water was exceedingly warm, it was greatly welcomed by the explorers.
A high hill was before them, and Bob suggested that they climb to the top afoot and make out the character of the land ahead of them.
The others were in favor of doing so, for Fekmahmight catch sight of something that would be recognized as a landmark on the map.
The climb was tiresome but easy, the many boulders offering footholds. Finally they reached the top and turned their gaze toward the horizon.
“What’s that ’way over there?” asked Joe, pointing to a narrow valley walled closely by high rocks.
Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton had their binoculars strapped over their shoulders. They took them out and peered into the distance.
Suddenly Mr. Holton started.
“It’s a village!” he exclaimed, and Mr. Lewis nodded. “A village of Arabs. Look at the low huts of sun-baked mud,” handing the binoculars to Fekmah.
“Yes,” said Fekmah, gazing out through the glasses. “Suppose we go over there and see them. They treat us all right. It not take much of our time.”
“All right,” returned Dr. Kirshner. “I’m anxious to make a casual study of them. They might have some primitive implements that belonged to their remote ancestors.”
The adventurers made their way down the hill and mounted their camels. Then they rode off toward the distant valley. It was a good distance away, and perhaps hard of access, but the explorers were determined to find it.
In less time than they had expected, they came to a spot that would probably afford an opening into the valley. For a few minutes they wound in and out among the rocks. Then they came within sight of the village.
A crowd of Arabs ran out to meet them, uttering hearty greetings. It was evident that expeditions rarely passed within sight of their dwellings, for they were very excited.
Tishmak and Fekmah conversed with the people in a very friendly manner and then introduced the others of the American expedition.
Dr. Kirshner and the naturalists found it almost impossible to understand the language, and they were satisfied with Fekmah’s translations.
“A good chance to take some movies,” said Bob, getting out the camera.
“Don’t suppose the Arabs would object,” added Joe. “At any rate, we’ll risk it.”
The youths cranked off several scenes of the Arabs and their village. It was clear to the explorers that the people had never seen a motion-picture camera before. The strange purring box was an object of curiosity, and they crowded around like so many children.
To the Americans, these people were of great interest. The men and women dressed almost alike, in a long, white robe that reached to the ankles. A tight-fitting cloth was wound around the head,and the back of the neck was protected from the sun by a black veil. They were of a naturally swarthy complexion, which was still further darkened by the fierce desert heat.
“Not very pleasant to look at,” said Bob to his chum. “But they sure are giving us a hearty welcome.”
“That’s probably because they’re so unused to seeing strangers,” Joe remarked. “Nearly all friendly natives are that way.”
The Arabs led the explorers into the main part of the village, where there was a large open space before the chief’s, or sheik’s, hut. Suddenly the head native stopped and pointed to a distant large rock. He babbled animatedly to Tishmak and Fekmah, whose faces took on a look of disgust.
“Sheik say over there is a place where they bury those guilty of witchcraft,” Fekmah explained to the Americans. “They put to a terrible death, and then their bones taken over there.”
Mr. Holton shook his head repulsively.
“Ignorance is the root of evil,” he said. “These people are even worse off than the Negroes of the Congo. They so infrequently come into contact with civilization that they have degenerated into a state of almost nothingness.”
“With even more respect for Fekmah and Tishmak, the Arabs in many remote sections of the Sahara are a bloodthirsty, treacherous, and immoralpeople,” put in Dr. Kirshner. “They do not at all compare with their brothers in Algiers and other places nearer the coast.”
Fekmah nodded.
“Praise be to Allah that I was not born here,” he muttered.
The sheik invited the explorers to stay for dinner, but Fekmah politely refused, saying that they must hurry on.
“We have many miles to go yet,” he told them in the native tongue. “If we are to get far today we must be going now.”
The explorers left the village for their camels, the Arabs shouting warm farewells.
“Professor Bigelow ought to be here,” smiled Joe, referring to a famous anthropologist who had accompanied them on their expedition in Brazil.
“Wouldn’t he be tickled,” laughed Mr. Lewis. “But then—maybe he’s already been here. He has been about everywhere else studying primitive people.”
Soon the adventurers were out of the narrow valley, again taking up the journey. They were glad to get started again, welcoming any new sight in the way of oddly shaped rocks, deep valleys, and other formations of nature.
Darkness was rapidly falling, but they kept traveling until it became impossible to see ahead. Then Tishmak held up his hand for them to stop.
Again they waited for the moon, not continuing the trip until it came out.
“Tonight we must make up for the lost time at village,” said Fekmah. “We can stand to stay up an hour later.”
It was not until eleven o’clock that they finally came to a stop in a wild, rocky region. The tents were put up for the night.
The next morning the explorers were barely up when Joe happened to notice something crawling toward him as he sat near the tent.
He was up in a moment, looking about fearfully.
“A scorpion!” he cried excitedly.
THEcreature that was slowly moving toward Joe was as large as his hand, with long, powerful legs that were doubled ready to spring. And Joe well knew what that spring would mean.
The youth viewed the hideous scorpion with a terrible awe, fearing to move lest it become angered and charge. What was he to do? He knew he could not get up in time, for his terrible enemy would be upon him. Yet if he should remain sitting, he would surely feel the hairy mass upon him in a very few seconds.
Slowly Joe reached into his holster for his pistol. He was a poor shot with such a weapon, but the chance had to be taken. Still there was a possibility that he might kill the huge spider by throwing the gun at it.
With a sudden movement the youth drew out the automatic and carefully but hurriedly threw it with all his strength.
Then his heart sank as he saw the gun whiz past the scorpion and roll across the hard ground. Thesudden movement angered the creature still more, and it crouched as if to charge.
Suddenly, as a last resort, Joe sprang to his feet and dodged to one side, just as the scorpion left the ground. As the result the charge was unsuccessful, the huge spider alighting several feet to the youth’s left.
The next moment Joe was in the tent, looking about nervously. He picked up his rifle and dashed back outside.
The scorpion was slowly crawling toward the entrance to the tent when Joe took careful aim and fired.
His aim was true. The small bullet caught the creature squarely, shattering it into pulp, which flew in several directions.
After watching the remains of the scorpion for a moment, Joe turned about, to find Dr. Kirshner and Bob standing beside him with small rifles.
“That was a wonderful shot, Joe,” praised the archæologist. “Bob and I happened to have our rifles and would have taken a shot at the scorpion if you had missed.”
“So you saw, did you? Well, I don’t mind saying that I was frightened stiff for a few minutes. Thought sure I was a goner.”
He was forced to tell of the entire experience, and in the end his listeners looked grave.
“A very narrow escape,” said Dr. Kirshner,who, along with the naturalists and Fekmah, had listened breathlessly.
“Scorpions are terrible adversaries,” said Mr. Holton soberly. “The fluid they inject is extremely poisonous! From now on we’ll have to watch more closely.”
After breakfast the explorers continued on the dromedaries. They were to reach another stretch of sand dunes late that afternoon, Tishmak told them.
“Sand hills will seem good after these endless miles in the Tudemait Plateau,” remarked Joe. “But there won’t be any shade, and there is a little here from the rocks.”
“Wait till we get to the Ahaggars, if you want shade,” smiled Mr. Lewis. “Some of that region resembles the mountainous part of Arizona. There are deep ravines, narrow valleys, high peaks, unknown caves, and many other remarkable phenomena of nature.”
“That is where our journey comes to an end, isn’t it?” asked Bob.
“Yes. In the southern part of the Ahaggar range. Thus far, Fekmah hasn’t had much need of the map, because he has directed us more by compass. But when we see the mountains, it will be necessary for him to consult it frequently. Whether or not it will prove accurate, made from memory as it was, we have yet to see.”
The way now led through a dry river valley, which wound through the many black rocks. Some of the rugged hills near by towered to two and three thousand feet, their perpendicular sides gray or deep black.
There was sparse vegetation, but a few gum trees were scattered about over the hard soil.
Tishmak had informed them that they would come to a well some time that afternoon. The water, he said, would be very cool, for it came from far underground.
“I’d like to see that Land of Thirst you were talking about,” remarked Joe to Fekmah, as the Arab mentioned the well of cool water that lay ahead of them. “It must be an interesting region.”
Fekmah shook his head.
“Caravans avoid it much as can,” he said grimly. “Too much danger of falling dead. Then, too, it is supposed to be inhabited by evil spirits.”
“Evil spirits?”
“Yes. Superstitious natives near there never see parts of it. I much glad we not have to go through it, because we sure to get very much thirsty.”
Shortly after the explorers had passed around a large hill they heard camel steps from behind a sharp corner in the river bed.
“Quick!” directed Dr. Kirshner. “Let’s hide in back of these rocks. It may be more bandits.”
The adventurers drove their dromedaries out ofsight and then followed, looking about cautiously.
The sound of footsteps grew louder, and soon a small caravan of natives came into view, looking very strange indeed with their faces tightly covered with black veils.
“Tuaregs!” exclaimed Dr. Kirshner, who had made a study of the peoples in the Sahara. “Tuaregs at last!”
He rode out from behind the place of hiding and shouted a friendly greeting in their own language. The people at once called back and moved on up to the archæologist.
“Guess we might as well go out,” smiled Mr. Holton, urging his camel to move forward.
Soon the others joined Dr. Kirshner, who seemed to be having no trouble in understanding the people.
“They live in the Ahaggars,” explained the archæologist, after a few minutes of conversing with them. “They’re on their way north to In Salah. That’s a town of considerable importance.”
The natives did not stop long, and the American expedition was also anxious to be going.
“I didn’t know Tuaregs were found this far north,” said Mr. Lewis, as the people disappeared from view. “Their home is in the lower Ahaggars, and they seldom ever, if what I’ve heard is true, wander far away.”
The explorers stopped before noon for the mealand rest. Then, at two o’clock, they continued on their way, anxious to leave the plateau behind.
Suddenly, as they gradually ascended a long grade, an agile form darted out to one side of Bob’s dromedary, its red coat showing brightly in the sunlight.
“A fox!” Bob exclaimed and raised his rifle to his shoulder.
Glancing along the sights, he pulled the trigger. There was a howl of pain as the bullet struck the animal broadside. Another howl; then silence.
“You got him!” cried Joe, delighted.
“A big specimen, too,” declared Mr. Lewis, getting out his knife.
The animal was carefully but rapidly skinned and the hide placed in the solution of preservative.
“Already we have a large number of specimens,” said Mr. Holton, as they left the skinned body behind. “And we hope to see a good many other animals and birds as we pass on.”
Late that afternoon the adventurers came to the well that Tishmak had told about, and found the water very cool. It reached the surface in a shady spot among the many high rocks.
All drank with a thirst that came from long traveling in a dry, hot region. Bob and Joe especially welcomed it, the latter declaring it better than flavored beverages.
“That’s right,” agreed Mr. Holton. “One candrink many things, but water is, after all, the old stand-by.”
When the containers were filled, the explorers rested in the shade of the rocks. There was something about that spot that made them hesitate to leave it behind. Perhaps it was the cool water, or it might have been the wall-like formations of stone all about.
Finally Tishmak got up and mounted his dromedary, motioning for the others to follow suit.
All the remainder of that afternoon they trudged on over the Tudemait Plateau. Slightly to their surprise, they had not yet reached the region of sand that lay at the south of the plateau. Fekmah especially was very restless, saying that he could not understand why the rocky region had not been left behind shortly after the midday rest.
“It supposed to be only about a hundred and seventy kilometers [about one hundred miles] across, and we have traveled at least that far,” he said, very much perplexed.
“Perhaps we have followed the arc of a circle,” suggested Mr. Lewis. “Suppose you ask Tishmak.”
The guide was also in the dark, not being able to give an explanation.
“Well,” said Bob, “it might be well to keep going awhile longer. We’ll surely come to the sandy region before long.”
The others thought this good advice, but late that evening they were still on the plateau.
They retired that night with high hopes that the morning would bring good fortune. During the last few hours they had had an uneasy feeling that their efforts to find the region of sand were in vain.
The next day they were off early, after a hurried breakfast.
“We’ll get out of these rocks some time this morning,” predicted Mr. Lewis with a smile.
And he was right. Gradually the boulders they passed grew smaller and the soil more loose. By the time they had stopped for the noon meal they were again among sand dunes.
The heat was now terrific. If it had been warm before, it was scorching now. Everywhere they went they were under the blaze of the fierce sun. How the camels managed to keep from burning their feet was a mystery to the youths.
Their throats were parched, their tongues numb. Water, water! If they could only drink and drink and drink! But only small amounts were allowed to be taken, for this region was many, many miles across, and there was no well or oasis anywhere near their path of traveling.
“If we have much more of this I’m afraid I’ll fall off my camel,” said Bob with a grim smile.
“Not quite that bad off, are you?” laughed Dr.Kirshner. “Dying of thirst is a rare occurrence in this part of the Sahara. But it does happen sometimes, and it is a tragic death indeed.”
“Worst thing is,” explained Mr. Holton, “there is a time when the victim of thirst would die should he touch water. In that case, water is virtually a poison.”
The sand hills that they were passing over were much lower than those in the country below Wargla. The desert stretched away to the horizon in endless waves, which, as far as the travelers could see, were unbroken.
Vegetation was scarce, only a scattering of yellow plants dotting the dunes. This promised to be a disadvantage to the dromedaries, for previously they had occasionally nibbled on the trees and shrubs that were clustered about.
“Look at the sky,” said Joe, turning his gaze upward.
“Funny color, isn’t it?” Bob returned. Then, as he peered into the distance, he uttered an exclamation of surprise and fear.
But the others had seen also and were equally as excited.
Away to their right a heavy mist had risen and was rapidly turning reddish.
“A sandstorm!” cried Fekmah in great anxiety. “A sandstorm is coming!”