"Look here, young man," said the doctor playfully, "I've made a mistake to-night. You began to play your part very nicely, and you were as quiet as a dumb waiter--that old black mahogany one in the dining-room at home. Then for company's sake I stopped you, and here is the consequence. You took advantage of the liberty given you, and at once developed into a base flatterer, putting your adulation into all the flowery language you could muster. Now, no more of it, if you please. There, to speak soberly and well: Frank, lad, I am not the great, learned Hakim of your young imagination, but the hard-working student who tries his best to acquire more and more knowledge of our fallen human nature so as to fight against death like an earnest man. I know something of my profession, and I work hard, and always shall, to know more, so as to apply my skill in the best way. Please God, I hope to do a great deal of good during this our journey, and I promise you that I will think only of this application of my knowledge. Yes, I feel now that I can go on and face all that I have to do, for I shall not be such a sorry impostor, after all." "Isn't it my turn now for a chat?" said the professor. "You two seem to be having a most interesting discussion, and it's very dull back here. The Sheikh is fast asleep on his camel, and poor Sam has become speechless with misery, in spite of all I could say to him about mastering the art of camel-riding. He says he can't get over the feeling that he is at sea. How are you two getting on?" "Better, I suppose," said the doctor, "for I have not thought so much of the motion lately. I suppose I'm getting used to it." "And you, Frank?" "I had forgotten it too till you spoke. But I am utterly tired out. How long will it be before we get to the tents?" "Oh, hours yet," said the professor cheerfully. "What!" cried the doctor and Frank in a breath. "Not till well on in the morning," said the professor; and then, as his companions turned to gaze at one another in dismay, "but we're going to halt soon, to rest the camels and--ourselves." CHAPTER NINE. THE HAKIM BEGINS. The professor had hardly finished speaking when something dark loomed up through the silvery gloom, and the camels began making a peculiar, complaining sound, while they slightly increased their pace and soon after stopped short, craning their necks and muttering and grumbling peevishly. A water-hole had been reached, where the beasts were refreshed, after they had been relieved of their living burdens--those which were loaded with the travellers' baggage having to be content with a good drink and then folding their legs to crouch in the sand and rest.