hed on northwards again, leaving us
wondering. Through the heat of the day we rested as well as we might,
but the air was motionless and sultry and the camels ill at ease. The
Arabs said that it boded a desert storm, and that a great wind would
arise full of sand. So we arose in the afternoon, and travelled
swiftly, hoping to come to shelter before the storm. And the air
burned in the stillness between the baked desert and the glaring sky.

Suddenly a wind arose out of the South, blowing from Babbulkund, and
the sand lifted and went by in great shapes, all whispering. And the
wind blew violently, and wailed as it blew, and hundreds of sandy
shapes went towering by, and there were little cries among them and
the sounds of a passing away. Soon the wind sank quite suddenly, and
its cries died, and the panic ceased among the driven sands. And when
the storm departed the air was cool, and the terrible sultriness and
the boding were passed away, and the camels had ease among them. And
the Arabs said that the storm which was to be had been, as was willed
of old by God.

The sun set and the gloaming came, and we neared the junction
of Oonrana and Plegathanees, but in the darkness discerned not
Babbulkund. We pushed on hurriedly to reach the city ere nightfall,
and came to the junction of the River of Myth where he meets with the
Waters of Fable, and still saw not Babbulkund. All round us lay the
sand and rocks of the unchanging desert, save to the southwards where
the jungle stood with its orchids facing skywards. Then we perceived
that we had arrived too late, and that her doom had come to
Babbulkund; and by the river in the empty desert on the sand the
man in rags was seated, with his face hidden in his hands, weeping
bitterly.

* * * * *

Thus passed away in the hour of her iniquities before Annolith, in the
two thousand and thirty-second year of her being, in the six thousand
and fiftieth year of the building of the World, Babbulkund, City of
Marvel, sometime called by those that hated her City of the Dog, but
hourly mourned in Araby and Ind and wide through jungle and desert;
leaving no memorial in stone to show that she had been, but remembered
with an abiding love, in spite of the anger of God, by all that knew
her beauty, whereof still they sing.

THE SPHINX AT GIZEH

I saw the other day the Sphinx's painted face.

She had painted her face in order to ogle Time.

And he