The crew ascended to the air-liner amid wild shouts of praise and jubilation.
[Footnote 1: Literally "mare's skin." Apricot paste in dried sheets, cut into convenient sizes.

A great dainty among the Arabs.] "You see, Leclair ?" the Master inquired, as _Nissr_ drew away once more to eastward, leaving the village in the palms behind.

"We hold power already with the sons of Islam! What will it be when-- ?" "When you attempt to take from them their all, instead of returning to them what they so eagerly desire to have!" the Frenchman put in.

"Let us hope all for the best, my Captain, but let us keep our powder very dry!" Two days and one night of steady flying over the ocean of sand, with but an occasional oasis or caravan to break the appalling wastes of emptiness, brought _Nissr_ to the Valley of the Nile.

The river of hoar antiquity came to view in a quivering heat-haze, far to eastward.
In anticipation of possible attack, _Nissr_ was forced to her best altitude, of now forty-seven hundred feet, all gun-stations were manned and the engines were driven to their limit.