“Yes, brother,” answered Yofa. “I fear thou speakest truth. There are many kinds of misfortune, as there are many kinds of peoples on the earth; little peoples and great peoples. The incomprehensible purpose of destiny may single out any one of them, or any group of them, at any time if they trend toward ill-advised and unhealthy disguise of the soul, which has been bequeathed to them, and, mayhap, they shall fade like the leaves of the forest, until they die. Thus, sometimes, to halt an evil that has escaped beyond the shores of restraint, a great blight doth fall, that spreadeth broadcast in the land, since the victims, in their self-confident security, do not see that it is among them, nor seek a remedy, nor hear the words of wisdom of the far-seeing wizards. Allah is strong, and we but as pebbles on the sand. They are there for a purpose, as we are here; when the purpose is past, or unduly transgressed, we shall be overcome and laid low, as drifting sand doth smother those stones. “But every failure and every shortcoming hath remedy, if we search diligently to find it. And seldom doth hard struggle to ward off disaster go unrewarded. Wherefore blame is upon us, for we, as a race, are no longer great of will; we idle by our herds, we drift like grass seeds to and fro upon the desert, and we take not firm root anywhere in the soil. Yea, verily, we are drifting, ever drifting wherever soft winds blow.” In answer to these words, and in conclusion, Rali stretched out his hand to embrace the landscape of noble, strong-featured mountains that encompassed them, and exclaimed: “They, the once dearly loved hills of our forefathers, more fortunate than we, are immovable to the influence of sunshine or storm. We may falter in the conduct of our lives, and pass carelessly on; but they shall remain, for ever monuments to the land of our race, their purpose fulfilled, their infinite composure pointing calmness and resolution, yet offering neither reproof nor scorn upon the shortcomings of humanity.” Thus spoke those grave Tuareg men, revealing the inherent melancholy of their race, and the remnants of nobility of character that spring forth like gleams of light on occasions of deep emotion, but quickly die out in the willy-nilly idling of careless, aimless lives. For in their camps the Tuaregs of to-day may be likened to the lizards on the stones by their hut-doors: creatures content to idle and bask in the sun, contemplative, perhaps, but making no great exertion to do aught but eat and sleep and exist at freedom in the languishing temperature of African climate.