DESERT JOURNEYS. 337 



The baggage-camels step out briskly and their drivers keep pace 

 with elastic steps; the riding-camels hasten at full trot, urged accord- 

 ing to their strength, and soon leave the burden-bearers far behind. 

 With unslackened speed they hurry on. All one's bones seem to 

 crack with the jerks and jolting caused by the rapid pace of the 

 riding-camels. The sun beats down, piercing through all the gar- 

 ments with which one tries to protect oneself. Under the thicker 

 clothing perspiration pours all over the body, on the more lightly 

 clad arms and legs it evaporates as it is formed. The tongue cleaves 

 to the roof of the mouth. Water, water, water! is the one idea left 

 to those unaccustomed to these discomforts. But the water, instead 

 of being in iron vessels or flasks, is in the characteristic skin-bags 

 of the country; it has been carried for days in the full sun on 

 the camel's back, it is more than lukewarm, of evil odour, thick, 

 brown in colour, and tastes so vilely of leather and colocynth varnish 

 that it produces nausea or even vomiting. But it seems as impos- 

 sible to improve it as to do without it. Its penetrating taste 

 and smell baffle all attempts to enjoy it in coffee or tea, or mixed 

 with wine or brandy. Undiluted wine or brandy simply increase 

 the burning thirst and oppressive heat. The traveller's condition 

 becomes one of torture before the sun reaches the zenith, and his 

 distress is the greater the worse the water. But it has to be and is 

 endured. And although the Northerner can never conquer his repug- 

 nance to the kind of water which we have described, he grows used 

 to the heat, at first so unbearable, and, as he begins to be at home 

 with his steed, other discomforts are also lessened. In the future he 

 will make sure of water which is at least clean, and will soon cease 

 to complain of its warmth or of any other inevitable inconveniences 

 of his journey. 



Resting comfortably, though rudely wakened by the loud grum- 

 bling of the baggage-camels, the experienced travellers allow the 

 caravan to go on ahead while they comfort body and soul with 

 coffee and tobacco. Thereafter they mount the dromedaries and 

 speed along as quickly as these trotters will go. Not a word is 

 exchanged, the only sounds are the crunching of the sand under the 

 elastic hoofs, the loud breathing, and hollow, deep grunting of the 



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