Jack Hampton wearily passed a hand across his eyes. Would they never sight the oasis at which Ali had promised they would arrive at the end of the day’s march? Even after many days of travel on camel-back, Jack had not become sufficiently accustomed to the soft-footed swaying brute to make a long day’s ride a pleasure. And this was a long day’s ride indeed. Except for a brief halt at noon the caravan had been on the march across the lifeless sand dunes of the desert, unbroken by trees, rocks, animals or human beings, unbroken by anything, in fact, except occasional stunted bushes, since dawn. In another half hour the sun would descend, and if the promised oasis were not sighted by then, the…
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