Foster James H.
Captured by the Arabs

CHAPTER XX
The Horror of Thirst

“ELEPHANTS?” asked Bob, almost bursting out in laughter.

“Come on,” suggested Joe, moving slowly down the side of the fissure. “Let’s have a look at the strange drawings.”

The youths slid to the bottom, where Dr. Kirshner stood staring at the wall.

Bob nodded.

“Drawings of elephants, all right,” he said, his eyes on the etched rock. “And look how plain they are.”

The archæologist took out his notebook and copied the sketches as best he could. Then he turned to the youths.

“Here is proof that the desert was not always a desert,” he said, his eyes becoming bright with interest. “Thousands of years ago this region was green with tropical vegetation, like the dense forests of East Africa. It was probably inhabited by tribes of people much different from the Arabs and Tuaregs who now live here. Then came a gradual dry spell, and in time the luxurious growth gave way to a hot desert of sand and rocks.”

“Those drawings of elephants, then, were made while this region was covered with forests?” questioned Joe, becoming as interested as the scientist.

The latter nodded.

“Elephants and other wild game probably roamed about here in great numbers,” he explained.

After one last look at the strange sketches, the explorers began the task of climbing up the side of the ravine. It was not easy to pull themselves up out of the steep crevice, but the rocky walls were solid, not even threatening to give way.

Then followed an hour of exploration about the top of the cliff, during which time the archæologist came upon the remains of many other ancient drawings and inscriptions. By the time that they were ready to begin the descent of the cliff, he had filled his notebook.

“But when we get to the Ahaggars we’ll undoubtedly find many more,” he said, slowly leading the way down.

After what seemed a long time, they came to the bottom of the precipice and lost no time in getting back to camp.

“Have any luck?” asked Mr. Holton, looking up with interest as the three explorers moved toward the tent.

“Did we!” laughed Joe and proceeded to tell of the many drawings and inscriptions.

“You boys should have taken the motion-picture cameras with you,” Mr. Lewis said. “They would have furnished proof to the outside world.”

“Perhaps we can yet,” said Joe.

“No, you can’t,” protested Mr. Holton. “We must not waste any time here, if we are to find the hidden riches. Right now,” he added, “you three had better turn in and take your afternoon rest. That sun is terrible!”

Dr. Kirshner and the youths did as suggested, glad to rest their tired limbs. But they were up promptly at three, packing the tent and provisions on the dromedaries.

Now, as they continued farther toward the barren mountains, they began to realize what thirst really meant. As Tishmak had told them, no well would be reached until late the next afternoon, and their water containers were none too full. Their throats were parched, and their tongues began to feel numb. The fierce sun seemed all the hotter, greatly stimulating thirst.

All through that day they rode onward, the Ahaggars gradually becoming nearer. It was late that night when they finally stopped and camped in a wild region of large red rocks.

The next day their thirst became almost overpowering, even though they did not exercise. It seemed that they could stand it no longer, but they rode continually on toward the well that was located at the foot of the mountains.

The noon meal was almost without water. They did, however, sip a small amount of the precious fluid.

“Oh, if we could only drink all we want!” groaned Joe, hesitating to eat the beans that had been prepared. “Everything is so dry without water.”

But although the explorers were extremely anxious to come to the well, they gave full consideration to the midday rest. It would have meant destruction to ride under that terrible desert sun.

“Before long we’ll come to the well,” said Fekmah, as they prepared to continue the journey. “In an hour it be seen.”

“And how glad we’ll be,” muttered Bob, anticipating the pleasure of drinking a large quantity of the refreshing fluid.

The hour passed slowly. They were looking about now, searching among the many huge rocks.

Suddenly Tishmak halted abruptly, and the expression of hope that had been on his face changed to one of fear. He motioned for the others to move on up to where he was.

No translation of his excited words was necessary to the Americans. They understood his anxiety. The well was dry!

For a moment the explorers sank back, and fear – stark fear – seized them. Thoughts of disaster haunted their stricken brains – stories of how large trading caravans had been brought to a tragic end because of no water. It was torture unthinkable!

“And after all this waiting,” groaned Bob, his hope almost gone.

The others were equally touched. Now that they had met with defeat, they felt at a loss to know how to carry on.

As a last resort Tishmak had fallen into a convulsion of motions asking Allah that they might be delivered from the jaws of death. His enthusiasm grew more intense with every moment, becoming almost disgusting to the others. Even Fekmah, although he was a devout believer in Mohammedanism, thought the actions of his fellow countryman detestable.

“Come, now,” urged Dr. Kirshner, using his knowledge of the native language to console Tishmak. “We’ll come out all right. This isn’t the only jam we’ve been in.”

The guide finally became his natural self, although still a bit panicky.

“You’d think after all the expeditions he’s led into the Sahara he would be calm in the face of danger,” remarked Bob.

“Danger, yes. But not in the face of tragedy!” thought Dr. Kirshner, although he said nothing. He feared all too much that this might be the end.

“Where is the next well?” asked Mr. Lewis calmly.

Fekmah put the question before the guide, who replied that there was no water within a distance of fifty miles. And mountains lay directly before them, hindering travel. It might mean a several days’ journey before they would come to the well, and then there was a possibility that it, also, was dry. Disaster seemed almost inevitable!

“But let’s hurry on,” said Mr. Holton. “Perhaps if we make time we can get to it much sooner than we think.”

The camels were urged forward at a fast trot. But before long they were entering the mountains, and the rapid pace was necessarily slackened somewhat.

During that desperate ride against time, the explorers hardly thought of the scenic wonders that lay before them. Indeed if they had not been in such anxiety, they would have seen much to interest them greatly.

Tall, needle-like peaks were all about, grotesque rocks dotted the irregular plateau before them, deep gulches and ravines were everywhere. It was a wonderful view, that beheld by the adventurers, and could have been enjoyed to the fullest had they not been in such terrible plight.

Luckily there was a full moon that night, lighting the vast expanse with a weird brightness. Countless stars shone down from the clear sky, appearing so close that they could seemingly be touched.

“Like we’re in another world,” breathed Bob, as he and his chum rode rapidly at the rear of the pack camels.

“Does seem strange, doesn’t it? I wonder if we’ll live to find the hidden riches?”

“Of course we will.” Bob cheered his friend as best he could, and himself felt much the better for it.

Luck was with them that night. The plateau remained open and free from peaks and rocky crags that would have delayed progress. It was, however, very unlevel, and the dromedaries often found it necessary to slow down to a difficult walk.

It was very late when they finally halted and made camp under the beautiful mountain sky. After a brief supper, at which almost the last drop of water was used, they fell asleep, not to awaken until the sun was well up in the sky the next morning.

“You know,” remarked Fekmah, “it seems strange that that well was dry. I been thinking about it since we left it behind. Tishmak too thinks it strange.”

“Why?” questioned Mr. Lewis, sensing that something was in the wind.

“Because,” Fekmah said gravely, “it a large well, and should not go dry much easy. Tishmak think it been covered up.”

There were exclamations of surprise from the Americans.

“You mean,” began Mr. Holton, beginning to catch the point, “that someone did it to keep us from continuing the journey?”

“Yes. I think it might have been the two thieves who stole my map. They did it to keep us away from hidden treasure.”

There were cries of astonishment from the others. For the past few days the thought of the thieves had been absent from their minds. Now they began to realize that at last they had probably come into the region in which were the hidden riches.

“Then the rascals must be around here some place,” said Joe, looking about sharply. “Perhaps they’re right around here.”

Fekmah got out the map he had made from memory after the original one had been stolen. He studied it closely for a few minutes.

“Hidden treasure still great distance away,” he said at last. “We not find it till several days pass. I think the two thieves not here but somewhere near treasure.”

“What’s the next landmark?” inquired Mr. Lewis, as the camels were made to move forward.

“The gorge of Arak,” Fekmah returned. “It quite a distance from here, but Tishmak lead us to it quickly.”

All morning they trudged on without coming to the well that Tishmak knew was somewhere in the first range of mountains. Although it seemed impossible, their thirst rapidly increased still more.

“Say,” cried Bob, as a sudden thought struck him, “if those two thieves could cover up the first mountain well, they might do the same to others. Wouldn’t it be possible?”

“Not the next one,” returned Fekmah. “It too large. Take many, many men to stop it. But there are several small ones farther on that could be covered.”

At an hour before noon it was necessary to stop for the daily rest, even though they would have liked to continue in search of water.

They were in a narrow valley between tall, sharp peaks. A ribbon-like dry river bed wound in and out among the brightly colored rocks, suggesting that once a rushing stream had forced its way through the mountains.

“How I wish the river were still here,” said Joe with a sigh.

As soon as camp was made, the explorers took it easy in the shade of the tent, more than glad to escape the terrible heat of the sun.

But before long Bob and Joe became restless. At last Joe got up and stretched. He sipped a very small quantity of water; then motioned for Bob to get up.

“What’s up?” the latter asked.

“Come on,” said Joe, picking up his rifle. “Let’s go out awhile. I’m anxious to explore these mountains around here. There’s no telling what we may come across.”

Bob was willing, and as the sun was slightly less hot, they started out in the direction of a large mountain that had tall, sharp points reaching up into the sky.

“What’s that over there?” asked Bob, pointing to a wall of rock some two hundred feet away.

“Don’t know. Let’s go over and see.”

The youths walked over to the precipice and then halted before a small crack that looked to be the entrance to a cave.

“Shall we go in?” asked Joe.

“I’m game. Come on.”

The hole in the rock was so small that it was necessary to crawl on their hands and knees for a short distance. Then the cave became larger, and they could stand.

Bob had his flashlight in his pocket and at once switched on the light.

“We’re in a large cave, all right,” observed Joe, casting eager eyes about. “There’s another opening away over there,” pointing to the far side of the cave. “Let’s go through it and see where it leads us.”

The hole was so small that the boys barely got through crawling on their stomachs. But at last they reached the other side, and Bob turned the light ahead.

“Just another cave,” said Bob. “Chances are – ”

“Wait!” started Joe, gazing at the darkness before them. “Let’s have some light over there.”

The beam was turned in the direction indicated by Joe, and the next moment the boys gave startled exclamations.

“A narrow passageway,” observed Bob. “Come on. We’ll see where it takes us.”

Suddenly, as they rounded a sharp corner, the youths came face to face with something that made them cry out in delight.

There, directly before them, was a large underground pool of sparkling water.

With a word of thanksgiving the young men rushed over and gulped up large quantities of the precious fluid.

“At last!” cried Bob, too happy for words. “At last we’ve found water!”

CHAPTER XXI
Captured!

TO the two boys, who had hoped against hope that their parched throats could be relieved, the priceless water tasted like nectar. They had felt sure that grim tragedy was near. Now their spirits were restored to a new high level, and they considered themselves equal to anything.

At last, when they had fully quenched their thirst, they glanced about the cavern.

Near the edge of the pool were the tracks of wild animals, which had evidently made this place a frequent haunt. The youths did not recognize all the imprints, but Joe stoutly declared that gazelles had been there.

“Doesn’t seem pleasant to know that we’ve been drinking after wild animals, does it?” laughed Bob.

“No. But we won’t think of that, especially since our thirst was so great. Then, too, it’s not likely that many germs are to be found away out here in the desert mountains.”

The youths stretched out on the cool white sand beside the pool. The atmosphere in the cavern was such a departure from the fierce outside heat that they were content idly to while the time away, despite the fact that they should be getting back to camp. At times they bent over to drink of the refreshing water, delightfully knowing that they could have all they wanted.

Then they grew drowsy and gradually fell asleep, a thing that they should not have done.

At last they were awakened – suddenly! Every nerve in their bodies seemed tense. Something told them not to move.

Slowly they edged around and looked toward the back of the cave. Then they started, as a savage growl rent the air. A fierce tiger cat was crouched ready to spring. It had evidently come to the pool for water when it had discovered the youths.

There was no time to take aim with their rifles, for the beast would be upon them.

Slowly Bob reached for his pistol, and Joe followed suit. At last the boys were ready for action.

With a quick motion Bob whirled about and took hasty aim; then fired. A second later the report of Joe’s gun rang out.

“Missed!” cried Joe in horror. “Both shots missed!”

“Well, we won’t miss again,” said Bob, gritting his teeth. “We’ve got to stop him.”

Bob jumped to his feet and took aim. Five shots followed in rapid succession. Joe continued the defense with his revolver.

When the deadly fire ceased, the tiger cat was literally riddled with bullets. It gave a convulsive twitch and rolled over, dead.

“Finally stopped him,” muttered Joe, his face wet with perspiration. “And a powerful fellow, too.”

“One can do a lot of things if he has to,” remarked Bob, putting his gun back in its holster.

The youths lost no time in getting out of the cave. They would have liked to remain in its cool retreat much longer, but they realized that it was necessary to get back to camp.

“Won’t our dads and the others be tickled beyond words when we tell them we’ve found water!” smiled Joe, as they crawled through the narrow passageway.

“Tickled is too weak to describe it,” said Bob. “I bet old Tishmak will hug us to death.”

At last they reached the outside and turned their footsteps toward camp. It was but a short distance away, beyond the tall precipice at the entrance to the cave. The youths put unusual energy into their legs and in but a few moments were met by all of their friends. Their fathers, in particular, rushed forward anxiously.

“Where have you been so long?” demanded Mr. Holton, vexed to the utmost that the young men should stay away from camp for an indefinite period without giving an explanation of where they were going.

Joe’s father’s temper was also wrought up.

“Did something hold you back?” he asked.

“Yes,” Joe answered quietly. “Several things kept us from returning sooner. But it may interest you more if we tell you that we’ve found water.”

“Water!” Mr. Lewis was all excitement. “You mean – you actually have located a well?”

Mr. Holton and Dr. Kirshner listened breathlessly. Fekmah translated joyfully to Tishmak.

“Not exactly a well,” returned Bob, “but something just as good. An underground pool. And how cool it is! Come on,” he added. “I know you’re all dying for a drink.”

Hastily the men followed their young companions over to the large cliff. Then, after crawling through the small opening, they found themselves at the edge of the pool of bubbling water.

For a moment the men could hardly believe their eyes. At last! Water!

Suddenly, as though urged on by some unseen power, they bent down and drank until they could hold no more. It was pleasure unthinkable!

At last Dr. Kirshner straightened up.

“I’ve never had such enjoyment in years,” he said happily, and then added: “Lucky that our thirst was no worse than it was, or it would have been necessary to restrain ourselves from drinking too much at once.”

When the men had finished drinking, they glanced about the cave. Their flashlights fell on the body of the tiger cat, and they looked up in surprise.

“What’s this?” inquired Mr. Lewis, pointing to the bullet-riddled carcass.

Bob and Joe smiled.

“That old boy tried to make us remain for dinner, but we fooled him,” explained Bob. “We had to empty our revolvers to stop him, though.”

There was a clamor of excited questions, and the youths were forced to relate every detail of the encounter. When they had finished, the naturalists bent over to examine the striped skin.

“Too bad, but I’m afraid you’ve put too many bullets in him for us to use the skin,” said Mr. Holton regretfully. “And a large specimen, too. But then,” he went on, “we won’t think of that when your lives hung in the balance.”

The explorers spent a few minutes sitting in the cool white sand. Then they went back outside to get the water containers.

They had had an uneasy feeling that perhaps the camels had been molested during their stay in the cavern, and gave a sigh of relief upon seeing them sitting peacefully near the tent.

As it was getting late, camp was broken, and the dromedaries were led to the entrance of the cave. The water containers were carried in to the pool and filled to capacity with what stood between the explorers and death.

“Now that everything is in readiness, I suppose we must be getting on our way,” said Dr. Kirshner. “But I must admit I hate to leave that pool behind. Somehow I’ve become greatly attached to it.”

“Does seem too bad,” Mr. Lewis agreed. “But I suppose we will find other wells and sources of water. Where is the next one, Fekmah?”

“Many miles away,” the Arab returned. “But come to think of it, Tishmak says one around here near. If it very far away, we go to it.”

When the question was put to him, the guide replied that the well was but a few miles away. He considered it unnecessary to find it, as another was a day’s journey in their direction. He informed them that since it was very large, it could not be easily covered up by the two thieves.

With one last look at the high precipice, the explorers turned the camels back on the lane between the mountains. With the right kind of luck they would come to the gorge of Arak some time the next day, and another landmark on Fekmah’s duplicate map would have been noted.

As they penetrated farther into the mountains, the scenery became more beautiful. There were many wonders that caused the explorers to gasp in astonishment.

“The Ahaggar range is of larger extent than the Alps,” said Dr. Kirshner, as they circled about among the rugged cliffs. “And although not of extremely high altitude, these Saharan mountains have many show points that cannot be found elsewhere.”

“And they are comparatively unknown to the outside world,” put in Bob. “Why, the average person doesn’t even dream of mountains being in the heart of the old Sahara.”

All along the way Bob and Joe took motion pictures of the many strange marvels of nature. They photographed the tall peaks, the deep gorges, and the narrow valleys. They turned the cameras on the many ancient inscriptions that were of so much interest to the archæologist.

“We’ve run off a good many hundred feet of film,” remarked Joe, after the cameras had “purred” for an unusually long period as the youths filmed a deep canyon through which they passed. “In fact, if they had given us twice as much film we could easily have used it all.”

Bob nodded.

“And there’s less danger of losing it in a hot, dry region like this,” he said. “Isn’t at all to be compared with the damp, tropical climate of Brazil.”

Slowly the country became more rough, until that evening, after the meal, the adventurers found it very difficult to pick out a way between the many large rocks. On one occasion they passed through a dark tunnel-like passage beneath high, overhanging peaks, and had literally to feel their way through. There was not the faintest ray of moonlight to lighten the deep passageway.

When they finally came to the other end they gave sighs of relief that at last the moon could again be seen. But now something else hindered progress. A peculiar desert plant, with sharp, poisonous needles and a rather disagreeable odor, had been known previously to the explorers. Now, as they emerged from the dark recesses of the tunnel, they came upon large clusters of these plants. Everywhere the dromedaries went, it seemed, they were forced to tramp through these formidable shrubs.

“It’s a wonder they can stand it,” said Joe, shaking his head. “Their feet are already swollen almost double.”

“Be tragedy if the animals would have to stop,” the other youth said. “It would mean our end, I guess.”

“They’ll make it all right,” put in Mr. Lewis, who was riding at the rear with the boys. “But, needless to say, we couldn’t walk on them.”

Suddenly, as they came to the edge of a dry river bed, Dr. Kirshner halted his camel and looked about on the ground. The others waited a moment to see what he had discovered.

“An ancient tool of flint,” he announced, commanding his camel to kneel.

The archæologist picked up the instrument and examined it carefully with the aid of a flashlight. It was about a foot long and shaped to resemble a crescent. The inner edge was as sharp as a razor.

“Doubtless some kind of a knife,” Dr. Kirshner said, as the others crowded around him. “Shaped out of flint by people of the Neolithic age. Perhaps it was used to harvest crops.”

“Crops? In the desert?” Bob was amazed.

The scholar nodded.

“It is firmly believed that primitive people lived in what is now the desert rather than along river valleys of more modern prominence. Of course the Sahara was at that time much less arid, or dry, than it is today.”

Dr. Kirshner searched about for other relics, but found none.

“It is strange how that tool got on the surface of the ground,” he remarked, as they turned the dromedaries ahead. “Other expeditions have penetrated into this region, and it is quite obvious that they would have found it had it been in sight.”

“Perhaps a rainstorm washed it out of the ground,” suggested Mr. Holton.

They rode until late that night, for they were anxious to come to the gorge of Arak some time the next day.

“We should see it tomorrow afternoon,” predicted Fekmah.

Notwithstanding this, they rode all the next morning without coming to the landmark. Finally Tishmak gave up in disgust and stopped in the shade of an overhanging rock. It was nearly noon, and the necessity to get a meal was becoming more apparent.

When they had finished eating they continued to rest in the tent. At this high altitude the sun was less hot than it had been on the plateaux, and it would have been possible to ride farther. But they had become accustomed to the usual afternoon rest and were loath to depart from this regularity.

But Dr. Kirshner had sat only a few minutes before he got up and stretched. Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis were asleep, but Fekmah and Tishmak remained awake. Bob and Joe sat in one corner of the tent, sleepily gazing out at the distant peaks.

“I’m going out and look around,” Dr. Kirshner said to them. “Care to go along?”

Bob replied in the negative, but Joe arose and walked over to his rifle.

“Don’t stay too long,” advised Bob, as Joe and the archæologist started out.

They were familiar with the country in the immediate vicinity of camp. As there was nothing of new interest to be found there, they hiked farther to the south. The scientist wished particularly to find more ancient inscriptions, and, if possible, other evidences of ancient civilizations.

“What’s this?” cried Joe, slapping his hand to his face. “Well I’ll be – Some kind of a fly.”

“It is a wonder we haven’t come across insect pests long before this,” Dr. Kirshner said. “They are very common all through this section.”

The flies had been discovered while they were trudging through a long, hot passageway between two high wall-like rocks. Now, as the two adventurers passed farther on, they came into more of the insects, which swarmed about as if thirsty for human blood.

“Ought to have some kind of a spray,” remarked Joe, pushing them away in great numbers.

“We have, in camp,” his friend said. “If the pests bother us much we’ll have to make use of it.”

After an hour’s hike they came to another dry river bed, and again Dr. Kirshner found flint implements scattered about. Joe had a small motion-picture camera with him, and at the scientist’s request he filmed the half-buried primitive tools as they lay hardly visible in the sand.

“I want proof that these antiquities came from the Sahara,” Dr. Kirshner said, placing them in the small box he carried over his shoulder for the purpose.

A little later Joe started to take a motion picture of a small animal that darted across the river bed, but cried out in disgust.

“A pesky fly got in front of the lens,” the youth explained. “Looked as big as an elephant.”

“One scene ruined,” laughed the archæologist. “But you’ll have to get used to that.”

The adventurers stopped here and there to rest and sip a small amount of water. Then they would hike on, always on the lookout for the unusual.

They had just rounded the corner of a tall, cone-shaped peak when Joe stopped and pointed to the sand near by.

Dr. Kirshner’s jaw dropped in surprise.

“Footprints!” he cried. “Human footprints!”

He had hardly uttered the words when there came a chorus of yells from behind a large rock. A moment later ten or twelve rough-looking Arabs darted out and surrounded the Americans. The natives at once disarmed the whites by sheer force and then displayed long knives threateningly.

The Arabs chattered ominous words, which caused Dr. Kirshner to start in alarm and fear.

“We are being captured!” he exclaimed excitedly. “These Arabs are hired by the two thieves who stole Fekmah’s map!”