BY FOUR o’clock in the afternoon the little camel was still running hard, but now he had begun to slacken his pace a little, for it seemed to him that some sort of object was appearing on the horizon far, far away. Whatever it was, it was decidedly to one side and not at all in the direction of the sun where the handsome youth had told him the oasis would be. As he ran he kept glancing out of the corner of one eye at the dark object that seemed to be growing bigger and bigger over his left shoulder, and he kept asking himself what in the world it could be.
After a while his curiosity got the best of him and he stopped running entirely and turned halfway around and gave the dark thing a good long stare. And then he really began to suspect it was the oasis. It looked exactly like an oasis. He wassure he could make out the tops of the trees against the sky. It was certainly the oasis. In another minute he had turned all the way around, and even though he felt the light of the sun falling warm on his tail, he was convinced it was the oasis.
He thought he could even make out tiny black specks hovering above it.
“Those are probably the herons and the flamingos,” he said to himself. “Mohammed’s son said there were hundreds of them there.”
So without any further hesitation he started running again, but this time in an entirely different direction from the one in which Mohammed’s son had told him he should go. Faster and faster he sped towards the perfectly clear oasis ahead, and now the sun was shining well over his right shoulder.
“Mohammed’s son certainly didn’t know what he was talking about,” he said with a little snort of laughter. “It’s evident even to an idiot that the oasis is over there right in front of me and not in the direction of the sun in the slightest.”
In half an hour at the most, he thought, hewould be snuggling down against his mother among the fresh grasses of the oasis twenty miles this side of Aqsu. He knew he was absolutely right and he began complimenting himself on his quick eyes and wits. Most young camels would have gone right on and never noticed what fools they were making of themselves, he thought with satisfaction.
“It just shows,” he said to himself, “that it doesn’t pay to believe everything you’re told.”
He was so pleased with himself that he began to whistle as he ran. He whistled treble and bass and, by curling his tongue up against his lower teeth, managed to do some double-stops. And now that he made out what looked exactly like branches of palm trees waving against the sky ahead, he gave a few little hops and skips of joy.
Before he had gone much farther a flock of herons came flying across the heavens towards him, and as they came near to him they circled lower, so low in fact that he could see their long legs dangling in the air behind them as they flew. The sight of such a baby camel running so fast and quite alone across the sands made them circlecloser and closer above him in wonder, and at last the leader of the herons called down:—
“Where are you going so fast, four-footed child?”
The youngest camel was a bit annoyed at being called a child by birds he had never laid eyes on before, and he tossed his head rather insolently as he answered:—
“I’m going to the oasis which my mother is passing through with her caravan. If they’ve started on by the time I get there, I’ll run straight on to Aqsu.”
“You’ve lost your way, four-footed child!” the herons called down in chorus. “We’re going to the oasis for the night. Watch us and follow where we go.”
“But I can see the oasis as clear as day ahead!” the little camel cried out impatiently. “You must be blind as bats, old birds! Can’t you see the palms and the—”
“You’ve lost your way!” the leader of the herons called down to him again as she swept above him and beckoned with one wing. But the youngest camel went running on in his own direction as fast as he could go.
“They’re just as stupid as I always thought,” said the little camel to himself. “They can’t see two inches in front of their big beaks, the silly-looking creatures!”
The flock of them swerved over him once more, calling to him to come, and then they flew off, their legs floating on the air behind them. He glanced around to watch them go, and in a few moments they were nothing but tiny specks against the sky, and presently they were lost completely in the sun’s dying light. When the little camel looked back at the oasis again, he saw to his surprise that for some reason it was not a bit nearer than it had been before. He could see the palms clearly enough, and the birdlike shapes hovering above, but he certainly was no closer to it, though all the time he had been running fast.
And then they flew off, their legs floating on the air behind them
His legs were beginning to feel tired now, and his feet hot and sore, and he suddenly felt angry with everyone and everything. He kicked viciously at the sand as he ran, and after another little while, as if he must put the blame on someone, he looked back over his right shoulder and stuck out his tongue and wrinkled his nose up at the sun. Thewhole world was turning pink now at the end of day, and the wide desert was glowing with the sun’s last light. There was the oasis still, not so very far away, and yet mysteriously just as far as it had ever been.
As the youngest camel went running on in discouragement, a flock of flamingos came winging towards him, their feathers and their legs colored like the petals of a rose. When they saw such a baby camel running so desperately across the wastes of sand, they circled several times above him, their legs hanging down like brilliant satin ribbons, and the leader called down:—
“Where are you going so fast, four-footed child?” and he answered in irritation:—
“I don’t see why you have to ask such a stupid question! Can’t you see I’m going to the oasis?”
But he was so tired now that he stopped running while he talked to them, and stood stamping his foot in the sand.
“You have lost your way, four-footed child!” the flamingos all called out to him in chorus. “We are going to the oasis! Follow us and we will show you!”
They wheeled once above him, calling out to him to follow, and then they flapped slowly off in the direction of the setting sun. He stood looking after them rather wistfully for a moment, and then he tossed his head and turned back towards the oasis. It seemed to him now to be even farther away than ever, and tears came into his eyes.
“I’msureI couldn’t have made a mistake,” he said stubbornly. “I’m sure I couldn’t be wrong. It’s absolutely impossible.”
“Why in the world should that be impossible?” asked a clear little trilling voice very close to his ear, and when he looked quickly around him he saw that scores of brightly feathered little birds were flying and darting in the air about his head. From the feeling of it, some of them had certainly alighted on his hump and some on the back of his neck, and there they were all chattering and chirping together. The bird who had spoken to him was no bigger than a pear leaf, but its feathers were brighter than a peacock’s. In company with others just like it, it spun and darted on the air before him, humming and whistling and eying him sharply and curiously.
“I haven’t made any mistakes yet in my life,” he said boldly. “I can’t think of a single time I’ve been wrong.”
At this, all the little birds uttered tiny shrieks of laughter and swayed back and forth on their perches on his spinal column and on his neck and on the top of his head. To his annoyance he realized that some of them were swinging and shrieking with laughter on his tail, and he thrashed it angrily from side to side.
“Well, if you’re so smart and know so much about me,” he said furiously, “tell me once when I’ve done something I shouldn’t! I’m sure you can’t think of a single time. I know I’m a very good singer because everyone I ever met said I was, and I’m a very good poet and I’m—”
“Oh, good heavens!” screamed the dozens and dozens of little birds all together, and their shrill laughter trilled and whistled all around him.
“There’s nothing at all to laugh at!” the youngest camel cried out, stamping his foot. “I’m simply telling you the truth—”
“Oh, my goodness!” shrieked all the birds again.
“You speaking the truth!” cried the first little bird as she cavorted on the air before him, and all the birds’ tongues tinkled like little bells with laughter. “Do you remember the terrible lie you told your mother about finding the necklace?”
Either the very last crimson rays of the sun on him or his own conscience turned the little camel’s face bright red and he hung his head between his legs and looked hard at the sand.
“You’ve always made the mistake of being conceited,” one clear sweet bird’s voice sang to him, and immediately the other voices went on with it, one by one, as if it were so many verses of the same song they were singing as they fluttered about him in the evening air.
“You always made the mistake of not believing what your mother told you,” rippled the notes from one feathered throat, and the next one sang:—
“You always bullied creatures smaller than yourself.”
“You were wrong not to do what Mohammed’s son told you,” whistled another, and still another trilled:—
“You were always a coward except when you were with your mother.”
“You were so pleased with yourself you wouldn’t listen to the herons,” sang the next, and one, swinging far back on the youngest camel’s tail, chirped:—
“You have always been the most conceited camel on the desert,” and another sang clearly to him:—
“You made the mistake of insulting the flamingos when they tried to help you! Now they’re your enemies for life!”
“But I could see the oasis right before me all the time!” the little camel cried out, by this time very near to tears. “It’s so plain anybody can see it if they simply look—” He swung around to point out to them the far waving palms and the birds hovering over the trees against the horizon ahead, and then he stopped short and stared in amazement, for nowhere in sight was there any sign of anything at all. “But—but—what’s happened—but—there was—but—I don’t understand—” he stammered, and with a loud sweet trill of laughter the scores of bright small birds took wing from his back and his tail and from thecrown of his head and the tips of his ears and paused a moment with a rush of wings above him.
“There wasn’t any oasis!” one shrill musical bird voice called down to him, and all the other voices sang in chorus together:—
“You saw a mirage! A mirage! You saw a mirage!”
“You’re lost!” cried the first bird’s clear little voice. “You thought you knew better than anyone else, and now you’re lost!”
They all gave another burst of laughter, and then they called out:—
“A mirage, a mirage! You saw a mirage!”
In another instant, the flock of them had risen straight above him and vanished into nothing in the graying sky.
Now that the youngest camel found himself alone in the falling night, he sank down upon his knees in despair. He laid his quivering chin upon his forelegs and sobs shook his bowed little shoulders. He was alone, he was lost, with nothing to eat or drink and not even his harp to comfort him. Which way Aqsu lay he no longer knew, and inhis grief he believed that he would never find his mother or any other living thing again.
“Hope, hope, where are you?” he cried out in desperation. But he knew that magic word was powerless now to bring Mohammed’s son to his side. As complete darkness fell around him, his terror grew and he rose to his feet again and stumbled blindly on. “Oh, why, why did I let the sun fall warm on my tail?” he wept aloud. “It was just what he told me not to do.”