When the storm did abate a trifle we mounted hastily and resumed our hijra in the most approved Arabian manner. We were also glad to note that the water supply was on the remaining Oont.
Quite suddenly the wind dropped and all was serene again; so we ducked quickly into the nearest hollow, began to remove the wrappings from the action our guns, and broke out a few packets of ammunition. After this we hobbled our mounts and settled down to wait, in what Mulvaney calls "Invidjus apprehenshun." Nothing happened. We waited some more. Still no sign of our friends. Then "Eddie" called me over to his side of the depression and showed me a distant object, which my field glasses revealed as our strayed pet. We lost no time in retrieving him.
Surprised by Patrol
As may be imagined, our day had been a bit lively, so we pitched camp early in a little hollow and attempted to shake a bit of dust from our effects. We were quite ready for peace and quiet in large doses, but one of our camels commenced to gargle in a particularly painful manner. To me is was nothing but an unpleasant noise, but the way that "Ham and" and Eddie dove for that pile of rifles was a caution! It was now dark and the cook fire was burning brightly; so Eddie stopped just long enough to kick dirt on the flames before running to his prearranged post. There we lay, one on each side of the hollow, with our pets singing like nightingales suffering from acute indigestion. Presently we heard a camel gurgle in response. It was not one of ours! By this time I was thinking furiously of certain quaint amusements indulged in by un-Frenchifled indigenes, in which the stranger within the gates is the principal actor. Suddenly there came a blast on a whistle and on all sides appeared camel men in white burnooses, all very pretty and business-like but what mainly caught my attention was the fact that the leader was wearing a kepl!
"Arretez-lal" I bawlea at the top of my lungs; "Quietes vous?"
A started "Mon Dieu!" was an answer. Then, "We are the border patrol!"
"Dismount and advance one of your number," I suggested; for plenty of natives speak perfect French and it was also much too dark to see the man's face.
Fortunately, it was the border patrol, for a fact, looking for the band of earns citizens who had harried us that morning.
The situation spoke for itself, so we made camp together and had some fresh gazelle meat which one of the Lieutenant's men had shot that morning. After dinner a native drum was produced coffee was brewed and the Arabs organized a barbershop quartee and sang like forty eat fights. As for the Europeans, I broke out a bottle of Mr. Hennessey's famous product, of the third magnitude, and we proceeded to wax very friendly. Presently, the Lieutenant felt constrained to sing of the charms peculiar to a certain lady from Armentieres, wherenon I retaliated with a spirited, I say advisedly, rendering of "Sweet Adeline." Then in semiunison we sang "Madelon" and other songs, while shrinking camels tried to uproot picket pins and the natives applauded deliriously. Oh, it was a splendid party and a good time was had by all!
One lovely evening we pulled into Nelta, and beheld that wonderful trick of nature which the French call la grande corbeille. It is a little gem of an oasis, set deep down in a ring of enormous sand dunes, with masses of feathery date palms swaying above the cool waters of the spring. With a sigh of relief, we plunged down the slopes into the cool, jasmine-scented air to make our last camp.
Our last camp! I suddenly realized that we had come to the end of the journey and what that meant. A certain sentimental melancholy seized he, as I reflected that I should probably never see again Hamida's genial grin, or again witness Edda's barbaric feats of skill with gun and dagger; but, as the brazen sky cooled and paled. I offered a silent prayer that once more our paths should cross.