Presently he was in a position to look down upon the land beneath; and he espied the camels of the robbers feeding in the valley where his tracks in the sand had been lost among the rocks at the mountain base. By and by, he heard voices half-way up the mountain-side. Cautiously shifting his position, he made out five of the robber band, scattered in different directions, searching keenly for track of him. But the grave old mountain told not her secrets as the tell-tale sands of the plains, and for some time Rali watched the robbers search without success, and heard them exchange curses of bitter disappointment. Whereupon he returned softly to the cave that sheltered Kahena, and sat hidden in the black darkness of it with rifle upon his knee, knowing that in time the baulked desperadoes would climb to the summit and persevere in their search. [Illustration: TOMBS ON THE DESERT] Slowly the day passed, while Kahena slept heavily, and Rali watched—and no grim figure darkened the entrance of their hiding-place. Once footsteps had been heard to grate on the hard rocks outside, as someone searched among the dark recesses of the disordered maze of fallen boulders. But, after drawing perilously near, the dreaded sound had slowly receded and died out. Late in the evening Rali ventured from hiding and found the mountain summit deserted, while in the valley beneath he saw the lights of the camp-fires of the robbers. Whereupon, weak though he now was from want of sleep and the prolonged strain of superhuman exertions, he set out anxiously to search for water so that he and Kahena might drink thereof and live. Long into the night he searched, but in vain he went, with ever-increasing sinking of heart, from one barren channel to another, and found not that which he sought among those sun-parched hills of terrible poverty. In the end he wearily retraced his steps to the cave that sheltered Kahena. But the wild wolves of Fate were now close upon him, inevitably bearing him down as he had foretold, and he returned from his fruitless search for water to find Kahena in the grip of raging fever. Poor child! the terrible strain of the race for freedom had been too great: and ere the night was advanced she died in the arms of Rali. While he, unaware of this final catastrophe, in merciful sleep of utter exhaustion, crouched beside the still maid of his love, from whence life had for ever flown. And in the morning he woke not. For two tired spirits had sped on the perpetual winds which sweep to the uttermost corners of the land and catch up the fallen fragments of the universe to bear them hence. Skeletons among the rocks, a few wasted fragments of clothing, a riddled water-skin; and the reminiscent words of a Tuareg companion, when I chanced upon the remains, set me to piece together the threads of this story.—AUTHOR. CHAPTER X SERVITUDE [Illustration]