The Mirage
WHEN the lads awoke on the following morning they were astonished to
smell the appetizing odours of roasting meat.
The correspondent was sitting down, busily engaged in rubbing the
sword with a piece of wet rag dipped in sand. Five yards away a fire
burned dully in the sunlight, while across it a large piece of meat
was supported on the long ramrods of the Arab guns.
"Killed anything?" asked Hugh laconically, after the customary
morning greetings had been exchanged. Life in the desert is not
conducive to good manners, although it may be to good fellowship. "I
never heard a shot."
"No, you did not," replied Reeves dryly. "If you had, I trust you
would have wakened instantly and stood to your arms. Unfortunately, I
was compelled to kill one of our camels. The poor brute went lame. I
feared as much yesterday, when I took them to the river to drink;
this morning I found that it was a hopeless case. On the one hand,
we've lost a good hierie; on the other, we've a good supply of meat
and only one camel to feed, although where we are to get another meal
for it goodness only knows. But set to, boys, and have a good
breakfast. We've more than we can carry with us."
"What are you cleaning up the sword for?" asked Gerald, as he helped
himself to a second slice of the savoury meat.
"Only to see what marks there are on the blade," replied Reeves. "So
far I've been successful. There are three crosses, some writing in
quaint characters which up to the present I have been unable to
decipher, and the date."
"What date is it?" asked both lads in the same breath.
"Here you are--MDCCIX, or 1709. So that explodes the Crusader
theory."
"Have you any possible explanation?" asked Hugh.
"Cannot say," replied Reeves; "but that will stand for the present.
We've much to do before we can make another start."
By the time the remaining camel was loaded it was early noon; but the
sun seemed not to affect the three Englishmen as it had during the
earlier part of their wanderings. On a day's journey they invariably
rested during the heat of the day; but as several precious hours
since daybreak had already flown, Reeves decided that the customary
halt should be for once dispensed with.
After about ten miles had been traversed, the party came to an abrupt
halt. The river, never voluminous, entered into a swamp surrounded by
low sandhills. There, as far as they could judge, it ended.
The three comrades gazed at each other in consternation. Although
Reeves had previously prepared himself for a discovery of this sort,
he felt the disappointment acutely; while the lads, who had been
buoyed up by hope and the energy of youth, seemed absolutely "knocked
out of time". Retreat was impracticable, a dash into the trackless
desert was little short of madness, while to stay where they were was
only to court death by starvation.
"We may as well make for the top of that sandhill," said Reeves at
length. "Perhaps the river only filters through the sand, and appears
again some miles beyond. Rivers do that kind of thing sometimes."
The hill that the correspondent pointed out was the highest of the
chain surrounding the swamp, and about a mile from where they stood.
It was a faint ray of hope, but in their condition the travellers
were glad to grasp even the most shadowy plan that might turn
disaster into success.
"Fill up that goatskin before we start," said Reeves. "More than
likely we'll feel the want of water before we return."
Gerald took the bottle to the river, but in a few minutes returned
with the doleful intelligence that it leaked so badly as to be
useless.
"We ought to have kept it moistened. The heat has perished the
leather," said Reeves. "Well, we must go without it. Meanwhile, sink
it in shallow water; it may take up in time. Be careful to weight it,
though, or it may be carried away."
Having done so, Gerald again returned, and the little party, carrying
only their firearms, set out towards the hill, the hierie being left
hobbled with the rest of the baggage.
As soon as the low-lying ground was traversed, the journey became
heavy. Often the travellers were more than ankle-deep in the hot
sand, while, as they came to the slope of the hill, they frequently
found that their feet slipped back more than they gained. But by dint
of great exertion they reached the summit of the hill.
Here the three stood spellbound. Beyond, the desert extended
unbrokenly for nearly a mile, then the ground rose abruptly to a
height of about four hundred feet. The summit of this hill was
clothed in verdure, while above the tops of palms appeared the
battlemented walls and towers of a large town. Some of the latter
were flat-topped, while others were capped by conical roofs of bright
metal that glittered in the sunlight. From the topmost turret floated
a banner, but the distance was too great for the spectators to
discern its device.
"Hurrah!" shouted Hugh. "We're saved. But what a strange sort of town
to tumble against in the midst of the desert!"
"It looks more like a city in the fairy-tale books," said Gerald.
"Let's push on at once."
"Steady, lads!" exclaimed Reeves. The man spoke as if lost in
thought. "It may be that---- Ah!"
Even as he spoke, the hill upon which the city stood appeared to be
riven asunder. The walls and turrets oscillated as if shaken by an
earthquake; then, as if wiped out by a titanic hand, the vision
vanished, leaving only the trackless desert shimmering in the rays of
the powerful sun.
"A mirage!" exclaimed the three simultaneously; then dismay once more
overtook them, as they saw only the pitiless waste in front of them.
"Surely there must be a real town over there!" exclaimed Gerald at
length, pointing in the direction of the vanished scene.
"Of that I have no doubt," replied Reeves. "A mirage is the
reflection of a real object, but that object may be ten miles away,
or it may be a hundred--or more. That sort of thing has often lured
men to death."
The lads did not reply. Hugh was looking steadily at a point on the
distant horizon.
"What's up, Rags?" asked Gerald.
"I believe I can see palm trees. There--more to your right. You are
pointing straight at the place."
"So do I," assented Gerald, with no uncertain voice; then, as an
afterthought, he added: "I hope it isn't a mirage as well!"
"What did you say?" asked Reeves, who was standing a short distance
away.
"We can see palms."
"I believe you are right," was the response, "only I cannot be sure
of it."
"Gerald suggested that it might be a mirage. If not, it's a clump of
palms, right enough."
"We've had disappointments enough for one day," replied Reeves
decisively. He had shaken off his meditative mood, and was now alert
and resourceful. "We'll go back now and rest till to-morrow. At dawn
we'll come here again, and if in the clear morning light the trees
are still visible, we will then know that it is not a mirage. In that
case we'll make a dash for it."
Turning on his heel, he led the way back to the river. In spite of
Fortune's rebuff, he felt confident that a successful ending to their
troubles and tribulations was in sight.