Then Her Pitching And Tossing Journey On The
Back Of A Camel, And Lastly, A Soiree With Me By Candlelight!
I
should have been glad to know, if I could, that her heart was not
utterly broken.
My Arabs were somewhat excited one day by discovering the fresh
print of a foot - the foot, as they said, of a lion. I had no
conception that the lord of the forest (better known as a crest)
ever stalked away from his jungles to make inglorious war in these
smooth plains against antelopes and gazelles. I supposed that
there must have been some error of interpretation, and that the
Arabs meant to speak of a tiger. It appeared, however, that this
was not the case. Either the Arabs were mistaken, or the noble
brute, uncooped and unchained, had but lately crossed my path.
The camels with which I traversed this part of the Desert were very
different in their ways and habits from those that you get on a
frequented route. They were never led. There was not the
slightest sign of a track in this part of the Desert, but the
camels never failed to choose the right line. By the direction
taken at starting they knew, I suppose, the point (some encampment)
for which they were to make. There is always a leading camel
(generally, I believe, the eldest), who marches foremost, and
determines the path for the whole party. If it happens that no one
of the camels has been accustomed to lead the others, there is very
great difficulty in making a start.
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