It is but a sand-storm
we have to fear."
"Yet I feel in the roots of my hair and behind my eyes that the rain is
coming."
Maieddine shrugged his shoulders, for an Arab does not twice contradict
a woman, unless she be his wife. But the lilac haze became a pall of
crape, and the noon meal was hurried. Maieddine saved some of the
surprises he had brought for a more favourable time. Hardly had they
started on again, when rain began to fall, spreading over the desert in
a quivering silver net whose threads broke and were constantly mended
again. Then the rough road (to which the little caravan did not keep)
and all the many diverging tracks became wide silver ribbons, lacing
the plain broken with green dayas. A few minutes more--incredibly few,
it seemed to Victoria--and the dayas were deep lakes, where the water
swirled and bubbled round the trunks of young pistachio trees. A torrent
poured from the mourning sky, and there was a wild sound of marching
water, which Victoria could hear, under the haoulis which sheltered her.
No water came through them, for the arching form of the bassour was like
the roof of a tent, and the rain poured down on either side. She peeped
out, enjoying her own comfort, while pitying Maieddine and the Negroes;
but all three had covered their thin burnouses with immensely thick,
white, hooded cloaks, woven of sheep's wool, and they had no air of
depression. By and by they came to an oued, which should have been a
dry, stony bed without a trickle of water; but half an hour's downpour
had created a river, as if by black magic; and Victoria could guess the
force at which it was rushing, by the stout resistance she felt Guelbi
had to make, as he waded through.
Pages:
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342