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Updated: May 28, 2025
Watching Eg-Anteouen closely, I saw him hasten without a word to the rock where our dinner was set, a second later, he was again beside us, holding out the bowl of lettuce which he had not yet touched. Then he took a thick, long, pale green leaf from Bou-Djema's bowl and held it beside another leaf he had just taken from our bowl. "Afahlehle," was all he said. I shuddered, and so did Morhange.
Between here and there I know that I shall not be thirsty." And that in a tone, in which for the first time he allowed the authority of a Captain to speak. "That is easy to say," I thought, ill-humoredly. "He knows that when he wants them, my water-skin, and Bou-Djema's, are at his service."
I certainly felt gratification at seeing the poor bare flanks of the miserable beast pant with satisfaction. But the responsibility was mine. Also I had seen Bou-Djema's aghast expression, and the disapproval of the thirsty members of the caravan. I remarked on it. How it was received! "What have I given," replied Morhange, "was my own. We will reach El-Biodh to-morrow evening, about six o'clock.
I was amusing myself a little. Pardon me." Just then the girth of one of the baggage camels, evidently not well fastened, came loose. Part of the load slipped and fell to the ground. Eg-Anteouen descended instantly from his beast and helped Bou-Djema repair the damage. When they had finished, I made my mehari walk beside Bou-Djema's. "It will be better to resaddle the camels at the next stop.
No, no, I do not regret it, I cannot regret it, that what happened did happen. Morhange left me to go into the little grotto, where Bou-Djema's camels were now resting comfortably. I stayed alone, watching the torrent which was continuously rising with the impetuous inrush of its unbridled tributaries. It had stopped raining. The sun shone from a sky that had renewed its blueness.
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