"That was rather my view of it," I said, "But I must admit my
astonishment to find that, with such a sceptical opinion of the goal,
you still do not hesitate to take risks which may be quite
considerable."
Morhange smiled wanly.
"I do not interpret, my friend; I collect. From what I will take back
to him, Dom Granger has the ability to draw conclusions which are
beyond my slight knowledge. I was amusing myself a little. Pardon me."
Just then the girth of one of the baggage camels, evidently not well
fastened, came loose. Part of the load slipped and fell to the ground.
Eg-Anteouen descended instantly from his beast and helped Bou-Djema
repair the damage.
When they had finished, I made my mehari walk beside Bou-Djema's.
"It will be better to resaddle the camels at the next stop. They will
have to climb the mountain."
The guide looked at me with amazement. Up to that time I had thought
it unnecessary to acquaint him with our new projects. But I supposed
Eg-Anteouen would have told him.
"Lieutenant, the road across the white plain to Shikh-Salah is not
mountainous," said the Chaamba.
"We are not keeping to the road across the white plain. We are going
south, by Ahaggar."
"By Ahaggar," he murmured. "But...."
"But what?"
"I do not know the road."
"Eg-Anteouen is going to guide us."
"Eg-Anteouen!"
I watched Bou-Djema as he made this suppressed ejaculation. His eyes
were fixed on the Targa with a mixture of stupor and fright.
Eg-Anteouen's camel was a dozen yards ahead of us, side by side with
Morhange's. The two men were talking. I realized that Morhange must be
conversing with Eg-Anteouen about the famous inscriptions. But we were
not so far behind that they could not have overheard our words.
Again I looked at my guide. I saw that he was pale.
"What is it, Bou-Djema?" I asked in a low voice.
"Not here, Lieutenant, not here," he muttered.
His teeth chattered. He added in a whisper: "Not here. This evening, when we stop, when he turns to the East to
pray, when the sun goes down. Then, call me to you. I will tell
you.... But not here. He is talking, but he is listening. Go ahead.
Join the Captain."
"What next?" I murmured, pressing my camel's neck with my foot so as
to make him overtake Morhange.
* * * * *
It was about five o'clock when Eg-Anteouen who was leading the way,
came to a stop.
"Here it is," he said, getting down from his camel.
It was a beautiful and sinister place. To our left a fantastic wall of
granite outlined its gray ribs against the sky. This wall was pierced,
from top to bottom, by a winding corridor about a thousand feet high
and scarcely wide enough in places to allow three camels to walk
abreast.