He beckoned me to go with him, and we proceeded until we came to the closed end, or _cul-de-sac_ of the defile. Picking the way among giant boulders until the straight cliff base was reached, my camel-man then halted and pointed with a smile to a dark hole in the wall at the ground’s edge, no larger than the den of hyena or jackal. “_Ama!_” he exclaimed. I sat down and lit my pipe; the place was unusual and uncanny. “Water in there, Mohammed? How the devil do you get it out? Go back and bring Sili with a waterskin, and ask Sakari to give you a candle: I want to have a look.” When he got back we wormed our way into the hole. Past the entrance there was a cavern where a man could stand stooping. Crossing it, another long tunnel led to a further cave, lower than the first, and there, in the bowels of the earth, gleaming in the candle-light, lay a black pool of water, clean, clear, and deliciously cool. In that mysterious haven of secrecy we camped beside water in abundance . . . and thus it came to pass that the camp-fires of the white man lit the eerie, strangely scrawled cliffs of Inzanenet as the fires of those on many an escapade had often done before, if tales of the land be true. And owls and bats and ghoul-like shadows were companions through the night, but the white vulture that points the places of water and human dwelling, marked not the sky by day, since even from him of the outer world the secret of the cave was hidden. V Strangers have drifted into camp. The caravan, at the time, is settled among a sea of wonderful sand-dunes; _Erg_ land of the Sahara. We have found, in lake-like basins between the dunes, some good _Alwat_ for the camels, and are inclined to delay so that the animals may benefit. Hitherto no sign of human life had been seen—and now these men, who have followed in on our tracks. Their camels are splendid, and elaborately saddled. They dismount on a dune crest overlooking the camp. There are four of them. The senior is a small, sharp-eyed man dressed like a prosperous Arab, while the others are tall, strangely gross-looking, and less dignified. [Illustration: THE WAYFARER’S POSSESSIONS] Ordinarily their presence would be accepted without question, but my suspicions are aroused because they are curiously furtive, and have suddenly appeared in a wild region where not expected. Joining us, they profess to be traders, and have a few trivial things about their persons to offer. Questioned as to where they have come from, and whence proceeding, their answers are evasive and contradictory. However, we elicit the information that the name of the senior man is Myram, and that he is a native of Ghat. They remained some hours; long enough to appraise all we possessed, and our strength. In the evening they departed, heading north.