Reeves looked grave when he saw this. They were heading at right angles the supposed direction of the river, and the land was rising. The river could not possibly run uphill. Perhaps beyond--if not, the disappointment would be enough to crush even his powers of resolution. Once again the agonies of thirst began to assert themselves, in spite of a frugal meal of dried dates, and soon it was with the greatest difficulty that they could move their swollen tongues in their parched mouths. Shortly after noon Gerald was on the point of collapse. Only by passing a rope round the two raised portions of the saddle was Reeves able to keep his young charge from reeling and falling to the ground. "We must halt for a while," he exclaimed. "Make for that rock over there, Hugh." He pointed to a mass of stone that, leaning slightly, might possibly afford some shelter from the sun. The rock, resembling a Druidical pillar, stood about two hundred yards to the right of the direction in which they were travelling; but being the only object likely to throw a reasonable shade, the turning aside was advisable. Gerald, on one camel, was leading, with Reeves walking slightly to the left flank, while Hugh's hierie ambled at some ten paces in the rear. Suddenly Gerald stiffened himself in the saddle, and in a loud, croaking voice shouted, "Water!" Hugh replied with a feeble cry of delight, but Reeves, although his hopes ran high at the announcement, thought that Gerald's exclamation was the outcome of a disordered imagination. In order to soothe the lad, however, he asked: "Where, Gerald?" For answer the lad pointed to a long, low ridge of sand through which the rock protruded. Beyond was a dip, but from his level Reeves could not see over the crest as well as did the lad on the camel. From even a very short distance the radiation of the sand caused every outline to appear blurred and wavy, and the depression beyond the ridge was in consequence hitherto unnoticed. "Why, it's the river!" exclaimed Gerald. Reeves waited no longer, but, breaking into a stumbling run, pressed on ahead and gained the side of the rock. Gerald was right. In a narrow khor, or valley, flowed the stream. True, it was little better than a chain of shallow lakes connected by a mere trickle of yellowish water, but to the almost exhausted fugitives it meant life. Forgetting their fatigue, the lads slipped from their saddles and staggered towards the nearest pool, while Reeves, stopping only to hobble the camels, made haste to follow them. Half a minute later the three were on their knees, plunging their heads into the tepid water, and taking copious draughts of the invigorating liquid. "Steady, boys!" cautioned Reeves, knowing that an excess would be almost as bad as a lack of water; "there's plenty of time. Here we stay for the rest of the day." "Are we safe?" asked Hugh.