ring us in safety to
Biskra. And bring me to the damsel who sits behind the green lattice.
These things I pray--thy sinful son, Abdullah."

He rose, and the old man stood at his elbow. Abdullah had forgotten his
passengers.

"This," said the old man, turning to a woman veiled to her eyes, "is my
daughter, and this," he added, "is her maid," and a negress, comely and
smiling, made salaam. "I pray thee," he continued, "to deliver this
invoice," and he handed Abdullah a paper.

Abdullah was too busy to notice his passengers. "Let them mount at
once," he said, slipping the paper under his girdle, and he left them
to Ali, who came up showing his white teeth.

There were the last words, instructions, cautions, adieus, and then
Abdullah held up his hand. Ali gave the cry of the camel-driver and the
uncouth beasts, twisting and snarling under their loads, struggled to
their feet.

Another cry, and they began their voyage. They traversed the square,
passed the mosque, turned down a narrow street, and in five minutes
crossed the line that bounded the oasis, and entered upon the desert.

Immediately the dun leader took his place at the left and slightly in
advance. The fourth on the right of the dun was the black racer. He
carried two water-skins and Abdullah's saddle. Then came, in ranks,
fifteen camels, Ali riding in the centre. On the right flank rode the
two women, with enormous red and white cotton sunshades stretched
behind them. Then, at an interval of six rods, came fifteen camels
unattended. They simply followed the squad in front. The dun leader and
the black racer had lanyards about their necks. The other camels had no
harness save the surcingles that held their loads.

In a panic, a sand-storm, a fusillade from Bedouins, a mirage, and a
race for water, if Abdullah and Ali could grasp these lanyards, the
caravan was saved, since the other camels followed the dun leader and
the black racer as sheep follow the bell-wether.

Abdullah walked at the left, abreast of the dun. At intervals he rode
the black racer.

The pace of a caravan is two miles an hour, but Abdullah's, the two
cripples included, could make two miles and a quarter. The black racer
could make sixty miles a day for five days, without drinking, but at
the end of such a journey his hump would be no larger than a
pincushion, and his temper--?

For centuries it has been the custom of Sahara caravans to travel not
more than five miles the first day.