Short though the digression had been, it had led Antoine and Perry a little distance from their course, and had taken up time. Perry’s camel, too, had gone on walking without his rider and had to be overtaken and turned. The ground skirting the edge of the lake, was rougher, and the sun was sinking toward the horizon. “We’d better hurry,” said Antoine, after he had helped Perry to secure the little gazelle on the camel saddle beside him, “I don’t know this country well enough to travel in the dark.” “But it doesn’t really get dark,” said the boy, remembering his night before the Sphinx with the artist, “one could almost read by the stars here, they’re so bright.” “You think so,” was the other’s reply. “But I’ve tried finding desert trails before. How about it, Perry; are you feeling all right?” “Fine,” answered the boy, “if my back didn’t hurt so. You know, Antoine, when I fired, the kick of the rifle made me think I’d got the bullet in my own spine, it gave such a jolt.” “You’ve only got one more day’s riding,” his friend assured him, as he walked over to his kneeling camel, “and on the way home you’ll be toughened up a bit.” Passing from the northern border of the lake, the camels started to climb. Then it was that Perry realized that no matter how good a camel may be on sandy level, or for that matter on undulating sand dunes, a really sharp slope, such as the first hundred foot pitch from the lake level up to a ledge on which stood the ruins of an old temple was more than his beast could manage. Following Antoine’s example, he slipped out of his seat, none too sorry to get a change, and, taking the camel’s rope, led the animal up the slope. It took an hour’s scrambling, and Perry was almost breathless when they reached the first of the ledges. “Stiffish pull,” he remarked, as Antoine halted beside him. “Yes, yes,” the other answered. “But I think that one is the worst.” The light was falling in long slanting shadows over the ledge and Perry, kicking idly at a white object in the sand with his feet, saw that it was a bone. More in curiosity than with any other idea, he scooped the sand from around the bone with his foot. “Some poor camel foundered after the climb—” he began, then stopped suddenly. “Antoine,” he said, with a curious note in his voice, “hasn’t a camel got sharp teeth on the lower jaw?” “You would think they were sharp if they nipped you,” was the answer. “Why?” For answer Perry dropped down on the sand and began scooping away the sand from around the bone he had uncovered as if he were a terrier digging for a rat. Antoine watched him with growing interest. “What have you got there?” he queried. “I don’t know,” replied the boy, stuttering in excitement, “it looks like the skull of a seal!” “Whatever it is, I’m ready to wager that it isn’t a seal,” said Antoine, but hurrying over, none the less. “If you thought for a minute, Perry, you’d see that it couldn’t be a seal. It’s more likely—”