Part 12 (2/2)

”The critter spit at me!” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. Again, and as though he didn't quite believe, ”The critter _spit_ at me, and got me square in the eyes!”

Ali went patiently to the aid of the agitated soldier. If he had known how, he would have explained that improperly handled camels will not only spit, but are uncannily accurate. Wilder beasts than these would bite.

Two hours later, an anxious Lieutenant Beale entered the corral. ”How's it going?” he queried.

Ali indicated the few saddled camels that were tied to the rail and the many unsaddled ones that were presently dodging about the corral and rather deftly eluding amateur packers. It would be necessary to catch every one. Since n.o.body except Ali had yet succeeded in bringing a camel and a camel saddle together, it followed that Ali would have to saddle every one after he caught it.

Lieutenant Beale nodded and left.

Back pillowed against a boulder, Ali sprawled in the warm sun and watched the camels browse. Far more than a pleasant sight, he thought, it was a vision that could not fail to lift the heart of anyone not too dull to be inspired. For to see the camels as they were--and where they were--meant that a great victory was won.

It was no small victory.

The camels had arrived at the expedition's base camp on the twenty-first of June. Departure was scheduled for the next morning. But with camels already driven wild by inexperienced help and rapidly getting wilder, they hadn't even succeeded in saddling all of them on that day or for several days thereafter.

Not until June the twenty-fifth were they finally under way, and Ali could not recall a sorrier caravan. The soldiers had acquired just enough skill so they could put a pack on a camel and have some a.s.surance that it wouldn't fall off. In accordance with Lieutenant Beale's wish for a thorough test, the minimum load for any baggage animal was seven hundred pounds. That was far more than should have been carried by animals whose exercise in recent months had consisted of shuffling about the khan.

There were immediate complications. Freight wagons drawn by six mules, conveyances not noted for speed, whizzed past sore-footed and overloaded camels and seemed swift in comparison. To the unrestrained hilarity of those who came to watch--and presently of the country at large when news sources got hold of the story--the camels functioned in every way except efficiently. Far from reaching the Colorado River at the California border, the end of the survey, it became increasingly apparent that Beale and his camels would be fortunate indeed if they were trapped in the suburbs of a growing San Antonio.

Then the outlook changed.

Though it did not happen overnight, eventually the camels became trail-hardened. Weary and sore beasts that had plodded into camp hours after the mule wagons were already there during the first hara.s.sed days began arriving at the next night's camp hours before the wagons were even sighted. Two camels so ill that they were abandoned on the trail, rejoined the caravan, apparently as well as ever, a few days afterwards.

Baggage camels that staggered under over-heavy loads on the day of departure, now bore equally-heavy burdens without the least effort. They proved as indifferent to drenching rains as they had been to blazing sun. They not only ate but thrived on any forage they found; the expedition's store of grain never had to feed starving camels.

Soldiers who hadn't known the first thing of camel transport had acquired a liberal education. Most had come to like these strange beasts. Some turncoats had even been heard to declare that camels were far better than mules in any way anyone might compare the two species.

Probably the outstanding triumph belonged to Lieutenant Beale. Growing ever fonder of Sied, Beale had ridden the white _dalul_ at every opportunity and even Ali admitted that he had become a very skilful rider. Near Albuquerque, Beale had news that a friend, Colonel Loring, was in the vicinity.

Mounting Sied, Lieutenant Beale set out to find his friend. The camel, whose only nourishment since leaving San Antonio had consisted of whatever forage the trail offered, not only carried his rider to Colonel Loring, but when Loring accepted an invitation to visit the expedition's camp, outdistanced the grain-fed horses of the colonel and his men on the return trip.

All was well, Ali thought dreamily, and may Allah have mercy on whoever was unable to see sublime beauty in the camels as they were and where they were. For they were still fat and healthy and they were at Fort Defiance. The pedestrian and least interesting part of the journey was behind. Fort Defiance was a true frontier post. Unless they turned back, which was unthinkable, they must go ahead.

And ahead lay the unknown.

11. The Wilderness

The trail was rough, but Ben Akbar's saddle remained a veritable bed of feathers as the big _dalul_ continued at the same swift trot he had started two hours ago. Ali turned in the saddle to look behind him.

There was nothing there, but neither was there anything ahead except the same boulder-strewn, scrub-grown, sun-baked land that he saw when he glanced around. The place had no visible attractions, but it did furnish reason anew to marvel at the vastness of America. Ali knew some self-contained nations, complete from Pasha to slaves, that were not as large as this forbidding corner of America wherein the entire expedition was presently lost.

Never jarring his rider, Ben Akbar continued without a noticeable variation in gait. Ali turned back to face the west.

The anxiety that clouded his eyes deepened, but it was not for himself that he worried. As far as he personally was concerned, by far the happiest days of his life began when the expedition left Zuni, west of Fort Defiance and the last settlement this side of California, on the thirty-first of August. That day, a lifelong dream finally came true.

Illiterate, Ali had developed skills vital to those who may never consult written records. When necessary to do so, he had only to close his eyes and see in memory a map of all the caravan routes he'd ever traveled. It was invariably in proper detail--the shortest route was never omitted and the longest was never extended beyond correct proportions. Every mile of every trail was again as it had been when Ali went that way with the camels.

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