The Black Box Part 50

"No good worrying," Quest sighed. "The question is how best to get out of the mess. What's the next move, anyway?"

The Professor glanced towards the sun and took a small compa.s.s from his pocket. He pointed across the desert.

"That's exactly our route," he said, "but I reckon we still must be two days from the Mongars, and how we are going to get there ourselves, much more get the women there, without camels, I don't know. There are no wells, and I don't believe those fellows have left us a single tin of water."

"Any chance of falling in with a caravan?" Quest enquired.

"Not one in a hundred," the Professor replied gloomily. "If we were only this short distance out of Port Said, and on one of the recognised trade routes, we should probably meet half-a-dozen before mid-day. Here we are simply in the wilds. The way we are going leads to nowhere and finishes in an utterly uninhabitable jungle."

"Think we'd better turn round and try and bisect one of the trade routes?"

Quest suggested.

The Professor shook his head.

"We should never know when we'd struck it. There are no milestones or telegraph wires. We shall have to put as brave a face on it as possible, and push on."

Laura put her head out of the tent in which the two women had slept.

"Say, where's breakfast?" she exclaimed. "I can't smell the coffee."

They turned and approached her silently. The two girls, fully dressed, came out of the tent as they approached.

"Young ladies," the Professor announced, "I regret to say that a misfortune has befallen us, a misfortune which we shall be able, without a doubt, to surmount, but which will mean a day of hards.h.i.+p and much inconvenience."

"Where are the camels?" Lenora asked breathlessly.

"Gone!" Quest replied.

"And the Arabs?"

"Gone with them--we are left high and dry," Quest explained. "Those fellows are as superst.i.tious as they can be, and Ha.s.san's death has given them the scares. They have gone back to Port Said."

"And what is worse," the Professor added, with a groan, "they have taken with them all our stores, our rifles and our water."

"How far are we from the Mongar Camp?" Lenora asked.

"About a day's tramp," Quest replied quickly. "We may reach there by nightfall."

"Then let's start walking at once, before it gets any hotter," Lenora suggested.

Quest patted her on the back. They made a close search of the tents but found that the Arabs had taken everything in the way of food and drink, except a single half-filled tin of drinking water. They moistened their lips with this carefully, Quest with the camphor in his hand. They found it good, however, though lukewarm. Laura produced a packet of sweet chocolate from her pocket.

"It's some breakfast, this," she remarked, as she handed it round. "Let's get a move on."

"And if I may be permitted to make the suggestion," the Professor advised, "not too much chocolate. It is sustaining, I know, but this sweetened concoction encourages thirst, and it is thirst which we have most to--from which we may suffer most inconvenience."

"One, two, three--march!" Laura sung out. "Come on, everybody."

They started bravely enough, but by mid-day their little stock of water was gone, and their feet were sorely blistered. No one complained, however, and the Professor especially did his best to revive their spirits.

"We have come further than I had dared to hope, in the time," he announced. "Fortunately, I know the exact direction we must take. Keep up your spirits, young ladies. At any time now we may see signs of our destination."

"Makes one sad to think of the drinks we could have had," Quest muttered.

"What's that?"

The whole party stopped short. Before them was a distant vision of white houses, of little stunted groves of trees, the masts of s.h.i.+ps in the distance.

"It's Port Said!" Quest exclaimed. "What the mischief--have we turned round? Say, Professor, has your compa.s.s got the jim-jams?"

"I don't care where it is," Lenora faltered, with tears in her eyes. "I thought Port Said was a horrible place, but just now I believe it's heaven."

The Professor turned towards them and shook his head.

"Can't you see?" he pointed out. "It's a mirage--a desert mirage. They are quite common at dusk."

Lenora for a moment was hysterical, and even Laura gave a little sob.

Quest set his teeth and glanced at the Professor.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WHILE WE ARE WAITING, LET'S GO IN AND BE SHOCKED!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "YOU MUST THANK HIM FOR YOUR LIVES--THE MONGARS NEVER TAKE PRISONERS."]

"Always water near where there's a mirage, isn't there, Professor?"

"That's so," the Professor agreed. "We are coming to something, all right."

They struggled on once more. Night came and brought with it a half soothing, half torturing coolness. That vain straining of the eyes upon the horizon, at any rate, was spared to them. They slept in a fas.h.i.+on, but soon after dawn they were on their feet again. They were silent now, for their tongues were swollen and talk had become painful. Their walk had become a shamble, but there was one expression in their haggard faces common to all of them--the brave, dogged desire to struggle on to the last. Suddenly Quest, who had gone a little out of his way to mount a low ridge of sand-hills, waved his arm furiously. He was holding his field-gla.s.ses to his eyes. It was wonderful how that ray of hope transformed them. They hurried to where he was. He pa.s.sed the gla.s.ses to the Professor.

"A caravan!" he exclaimed. "I can see the camels, and horses!"

The Professor almost s.n.a.t.c.hed the gla.s.ses.

"It is quite true," he agreed. "It is a caravan crossing at right angles to our direction. Come! They will see us before long."

Lenora began to sob and Laura to laugh. Both were struggling with a tendency towards hysterics. The Professor and Quest marched grimly side by side. With every step they took the caravan became more distinct.

Presently three or four hors.e.m.e.n detached themselves from the main body and came galloping towards them. The eyes of the little party glistened as they saw that the foremost had a water-bottle slung around his neck. He came das.h.i.+ng up, waving his arms.

"You lost, people?" he asked. "Want water?"

They almost s.n.a.t.c.hed the bottle from him. It was like pouring life into their veins. They all, at the Professor's instigation, drank sparingly.

Quest, with a great sigh of relief, lit a cigar.

"Some adventure, this!" he declared.

The Professor, who had been talking to the men in their own language, turned back towards the two girls.

"It is a caravan," he explained, "of peaceful merchants on their way to Jaffa. They are halting for us, and we shall be able, without a doubt, to arrange for water and food and a camel or two horses. The man here asks if the ladies will take the horses and ride?"