Some, lately awakened, are sitting up or leaning against the trunks of the trees, but scarce one has energy to move.
The day has indeed been a hot one even for the southern edge of the Libyan desert.

The cream coloured oxen stand with their heads down, lazily whisking away with their tails the flies that torment them.

The horses standing near suffer more; the lather stands on their sides, their flanks heave, and from time to time they stretch out their extended nostrils in the direction from which, when the sun sinks a little lower, the breeze will begin to blow.
The occupants of the grove are men of varied races, and, although there is no attempt at military order, it is clear at once that they are divided into three parties.

One is composed of men more swarthy than the others.

They are lithe and active in figure, inured to hardship, accustomed to the burning sun.