286 AN ECHO OF THE CALL 



" I seemed to move amid a world of ghosts, 

 And feel myself the shadow of a dream," 



whilst the man whose year it was, still moved out 

 there in the great mysterious land whose future 

 none can tell I saw again the hot sweltering 

 plain, the jolting carts half-hidden in a haze of 

 dust ; the cries of the drivers mingled hoarsely 

 with the crack of whips as they urged forward 

 their sleepy nodding mules. Mountains, cloud- 

 flecked and aloof, brooded over deep valleys ; 

 strange animals moved about the trackless heights ; 

 and from beyond the smoke of camp fires strange 

 faces peered. Again, above a belt of trees, a great 

 wall, with crumbling battlements and shattered 

 towers, reared its still imposing bulk ; lonely inns, 

 dotting a vast expanse, rose on the horizon, gave 

 shelter for a time, sank behind and were forgotten. 

 Their yellow mud walls, so splendid a foil to the 

 inexpressible blue of a desert sky, melted again to 

 loveliness at twilight ; or stood, black and clear- 

 cut, from the shadows beneath the austere purity of 

 the moon. Telegraph poles stretched in endless 

 perspective to the horizon ; caravans, silent and soft- 

 footed, minced past to the clangorous murmur of 

 camel bells at the dawn. The long walks ; the 

 hard climbs; the blistering heat and the chilling 

 hail ; the moments of utter joy and the moments 

 of as blank despair. They were over now. Still 

 the kaleidoscopic medley passed before my mind. 

 Cave-dwellings, robbers, great walled cities set in 

 the midst of rich champaigns, bounded by mighty 

 rivers, shadowed by snow-clad peaks. Does not 

 romance stir at the sound ? And yet at the time 



