It might have been the work of some fastidious woman or of some leisured scholar; so much pride of penmanship was there.

It certainly agreed with no picture of Stephen Ballantyne which his imagination had drawn.
He mounted the camel behind the driver, and for the next few minutes all his questions and perplexities vanished from his mind.

He simply clung to the waist of the driver.

For the camel bumped down into steep ditches and scuffled up out of them, climbed over mounds and slid down the further side of them, and all the while Thresk had the sensation of being poised uncertainly in the air as high as a church-steeple.

Suddenly however the lights of the camp grew large and the camel padded silently in between the tents.