ed, of our enemies, the fierce
Kountas, of everything, and finally he said:

"'Have no fear, little girl.'

"Then he said again, 'Do not be afraid. Evil days may be in store for
you, but what does that matter? For one day you will see Gao gleaming
on the horizon, no longer a servile Gao reduced to the rank of a
little Negro town, but the splendid Gao of other days, the great
capital of the country of the blacks, Gao reborn, with its mosque of
seven towers and fourteen cupolas of turquoise, with its houses with
cool courts, its fountains, its watered gardens, all blooming with
great red and white flowers.... That will be for you the hour of
deliverance and of royalty.'"

Tanit-Zerga was standing up. All about us, on our heads, the sun
blazed on the _hamada_, burning it white.

Suddenly the child stretched out her arms. She gave a terrible cry.

"Gao! There is Gao!"

I looked at her.

"Gao," she repeated. "Oh, I know it well! There are the trees and the
fountains, the cupolas and the towers, the palm trees, the great red
and white flowers. Gao...."

Indeed, along the shimmering horizon rose a fantastic city with mighty
buildings that towered, tier on tier, until they formed a rainbow.
Wide-eyed, we stood and watched the terrible mirage quiver feverishly
before us.

"Gao!" I cried. "Gao!"

And almost immediately I uttered another cry, of sorrow and of horror.
Tanit-Zerga's little hand relaxed in mine. I had just time to catch
the child in my arms and hear her murmur as in a whisper:

"And then that will be the day of deliverance. The day of deliverance
and of royalty."

Several hours later I took the knife with which we had skinned the
desert gazelle and, in the sand at the foot of the rock where
Tanit-Zerga had given up her spirit, I made a little hollow where she
was to rest.

When everything was ready, I wanted to look once more at that dear
little face. Courage failed me for a moment.... Then I quickly drew
the _haik_ over the brown face and laid the body of the child in the
hollow.

I had reckoned without Gale.

The eyes of the mongoose had not left me during the whole time that I
was about my sad duty. When she heard the first handfuls of sand fall
on the _haik_, she gave a sharp cry. I looked at her and saw her ready
to spring, her eyes daring fire.

"Gale!" I implored; and I tried to stroke her.

She bit my hand and then leapt into the grave and began to dig,
throwing the sand furiously asi