3 o LODGES IN THE WILDERNESS 



How unutterably still it was; how ineffably 

 peaceful. The spell of silence still sealed our 

 lips. The world of men with its fierce and 

 futile struggles, its crowded and ever-changing 

 illusions, seemed but a dream. Could it be 

 that in other regions of that earth, which there 

 seemed so austere, so sinless and so ordered, 

 men were struggling in warren-like cities? 

 For that night, however, the desert was the 

 only reality; there we seemed to have attained 

 Nirvana. 



The hour of rest soon came to an end ; once 

 more the oxen were yoked and our wagon 

 lumbered on. There was no longer a track 

 to guide us; our wheels drew a double-furrow 

 through soil that had never groaned to the 

 share of a plough forged by mortal hands, 

 that will never yield a crop sown by man. 

 There were no dangers to dread but snakes ; no 

 obstacles to avoid except an occasional tract, 

 ten to fifteen yards in diameter, which had been 

 undermined by desert mice. Through the 

 crust of such a tract the wagon would have 

 sunk to the axles ; accordingly a Hottentot was 

 detailed to walk a few yards ahead and give 

 notice of the fact should a mouse-city lie in our 

 course. We steered neither by the compass 

 nor the stars, not yet by any landmark. It was 



