He awoke towards sunset to hear sounds that made him marvel--the
cheerful clatter of a camp, the voices of men, the protests of camels.
It took him back to that last evening he had spent in contact with
civilization, the evening he had finally set himself to conquer the
unknown, in answer to a voice that called. How much of that mission had
he accomplished, he asked himself? How far was he even yet from his
goal?
He gazed with drawn brows at the narrow walls of the tent in which he
lay, and presently, a certain measure of strength returning to him, he
raised himself on his sound arm and looked about him.
On the instant he perceived the faithful Hassan watching beside him. The
Arab beamed upon him as their eyes met.
"All is well, _effendi_," he said. "By the mercy of Allah, we have
reached the Great Desert, and are even now in the company of El Azra,
the spice merchant. We shall travel with his caravan in safety."
"But how on earth did we get here?" questioned Herne.
Hassan was eager to explain.
"We escaped by night from Wanda three days ago, the Prophet of the
Wandis himself assisting us. You were wounded, _effendi_, and without
understanding.
Pages:
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395