Once, for a cause not apparent to me, my guide raised himself to his
full height, and, thrusting back his head, uttered a most piercing
cry. After that, however, we saw no more for a while of the beasts
that haunted our journey.
All morning, till the sun was high, and the air athrob with heat and
stretched like a great fiddlestring to a continuous, shrill vibration,
we went steadily forward. And when at last I was faint with heat and
thirst, my companion lifted me up like a child on to his back and set
off again at his great, easy stride. It was useless to protest. I
merely buried my hands in his yellow hair to keep my balance in such a
camel-like motion.
A little after noon we stayed to rest by a shallow brook, beneath a
cluster of trees scented, though not in blossom, like an English
hawthorn. There we ate our meal, or rather I ate and my companion
watched, running out ever and again for a wider survey, and returning
to me like a faithful dog, to shout snatches of his inconceivable
language at me.
Sometimes I seemed to catch his meaning, bidding me take courage, have
no fear, he would protect me.
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