The next morning the departing caravan had many visitors. The merchants
from the arcades came to see that their ventures were properly loaded.
They passed comments upon the camels as Englishmen and Americans do
upon horses in the paddock or the show-ring. Some they criticised, some
they praised, but they were of one mind as to their condition.
"Their humps are fat," they all agreed; and, as a camel draws upon his
hump for food as he draws upon the sacs surrounding his stomach for
water, the condition of the caravan was declared to be _mleh_, which is
the Arabic equivalent for "fit."
Abdullah was a busy man. He signed manifests, received money, receipted
for it, felt of surcingles, tightened them, swore at the boys who were
teasing the camels, kicked Ali whenever he came within reach, and in
every way played the _rôle_ of the business man of the desert.
Suddenly, from the minaret of the mosque came the cry of the mueddin.
The clamor of the market ceased and the Mussulmans fell upon their
knees, facing the east and Mecca. The camels were already kneeling, but
they were facing the north and Biskra.
While the faithful were praying, the unbelievers from the Soudan fell
back and stood silent. A cry to God, no matter what god, silences the
patter of the market-place. Abdullah prayed as a child beseeches his
father.
"Give me, Allah, a safe and quick journey. Unchoke the wells at Okba.
Strengthen the yellow camel. Make high the price of dates and low the
price of hides; 'tis thus I have ventured. Bring 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. Abdullah, the iconoclast, made
thirty-three. Ali came to him at two o'clock.
"Shall we camp, master?" he asked.
"When I give the word," replied Abdullah. "You forget that the wells at
Okba are choked. We shall camp at El Zarb."
"El Zarb," exclaimed Ali. "We should camp there to-morrow."
"Must I continually remind you," said Abdullah, "that to-morrow may
never dawn? We camp at El Zarb to-night."
At nine o'clock they marched under the palms of El Zarb. Abdullah held
up his hands; Ali ran to the head of the dun leader; the caravan
halted, groaned, and knelt. The first day's journey was over.