At night darkness is complete, no light or fire burns in the tents, which are hardly able to resist the gusts of the simoom. A deep silence reigns throughout the whole caravan, yet no one sleeps; the bark of the jackal or the howl of the hyæna alone sounds dismally from time to time through the loud roaring of the storm. A prolonged simoom causes more fatigue to man and beast than all the other hardships of a desert journey, and brings new and as yet unknown sufferings to the traveller. Under the desiccating influence of the dry air, his lips spring open and begin to bleed, his parched tongue vainly longs for a refreshing draught; and, together with a raging thirst, an insupportable itching and burning invade the whole body; for the skin bursts in a hundred places, and the fine irritating dust penetrates into every wound. Sometimes a raving madness, the symptoms of a fatal inflammation, is the result of these complicated tortures; in other cases the blood circulating with feverish haste through the veins, produces congestion of the brain; and, senseless and motionless, the wretch sinks down upon the ground, never to rise again. And the lot of him who still retains the full consciousness of his misery is not more enviable, for death by thirst awaits him, with slower but more dreadful pangs. His camel drops, his water-bag is nearly empty. He tries to walk; in a short time the glowing sand produces gangrenous sores in his feet, and every step is accompanied by the most excruciating pain. His companions are all too busy with themselves to pay the least attention to the unfortunate sufferer; they have but one thought--self; one aim--that of reaching the next well. Abandoned to his fate, the deserted traveller stands alone, waterless, helpless in the dreadful waste. He tears his beard, he curses his destiny; for him there is no hope. And now, when earth and heaven begin to reel around him, the ‘_Sea of the Devil_’ spreads out its delusive phantoms before his weakened vision. He sees all his heart can wish for; palm groves waving over a broad expanse of lake; winding rivers covered with barges, their streamers gaily floating in the breeze; fairy gardens surrounded by rippling waters. The glorious prospect stimulates him to one last exertion; could he but reach that blessed shore the joys of paradise were his, but his paralysed limbs mock the vain effort which exhausts the last remnant of his strength. The crows, wheeling with dismal cries over the dying wretch, often hack out his eyes before death relieves him of all pain. These corsairs of the air accompany the caravan as sharks accompany a vessel; for they reckon, like the tyrants of the seas, upon the tribute of the journey.