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Updated: May 6, 2025
At last they started, but before they had gone many yards the caravan stopped to wait for a camel who had lingered behind and was making cries of distress. It was Camer's mother. On the sand, lying in a limp, unnatural position, was Camer.
The little camel lay limp and still, and when the Arab, finding that coaxing and caressing were of no use, tried harsh words, Camer's mother turned savagely on him and bit him through the arm. The Arab knew camels too well to attempt further persuasion, and, with angry words, for his arm burned and smarted, walked off and left mother and baby in the desert.
Cara grieved and fretted over the loss of his little companion, but his mother told him, in camel language, that had Camer's mother taught her to close her nostrils in a proper manner during a simoom, she would not have died. As it was, the hot, acrid sand had suffocated the poor little thing.
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