Surely He was never here.
He was never here." And now that their minds were pitched to the height of madness, the warlocks of the desert took shape and jeered at them, and the white-sheeted ghosts flitted alongside of them, and the goblins of the Gobi harried them from behind.

And the sun was like dull copper through the haze, and the moon like a guttering candle, and stars there were none.
And when the moon was at its full, they came to the Hill of the Bell.
And through the night the Bell went GONGH, GONGH, GONGH, until they could feel it in every fiber of their bodies, and their skin itched with it.

They would stop their ears.

But they would hear it in the palms of their hands and the soles of their feet.

GONGH, GONGH, GONGH.
And when they left the Hill of the Bell there were only six of the caravan left, and a multitude of white-sheeted ghosts.