From these poor peasants he could not obtain a guide, and he dared not offer them money, which he knew was a certain inducement for them to strip and perhaps kill him. His mule, too, was showing signs of fatigue, from the rapid and unaccustomed journey. At daylight, after taking the most minute directions from his host for striking the track of the caravan, he set off with a stout heart, his mule ambling from four to five miles an hour; and while the sun was yet far from noon, he found himself launched on that inland sea which stretches with little interruption from the Atlas to the Niger. With some of the instinct of the Arab, he guided himself by the aid of rising grounds, sand-hills, and indications left by bleached bones, sun-dried manure, and some rocks, keeping a straight course by the sun; but his heart sunk as the afternoon wore on, and no signs appeared of the desired tracks. Had the caravan not passed? or had it passed, and the wind swept the sand over its track and effaced it? He could travel on, but what probability of discovering the road, in such a waste? He might travel another day, and be able to return with safety, if unsuccessful; but then to lose the object of his journey, death were better.
He dismounted and sat down to think. The western sun threw the shadow of his mule far from him, and despair began to creep over his spirits. Hark! was that a shout? His heart bounded at a human voice in such a place, whether of friend or foe; it was welcome. He sprang up, and scanned the horizon. Another long, clear call, and at a distance of three-quarters of a mile he perceived some large fragments of rock, which he had not before noticed; on their highest point, and partly relieved against the sky, stood a dark figure, waving a cloth with one hand, with what seemed to be a gun in the other. If there had been danger, there was no escape; but Yusuf, accustomed to place confidence in these people, joyfully mounted his mule, and hastened to the spot.
The Desert Arabs, to whom I would now introduce the reader, are quite a different race from the Moors, and have little in common with the Arab population of the Maroqueen provinces. The latter have occupied these countries, on occasions of depopulation from plague, have adopted a settled life, and become partially identified in manners and dress with the people who surround them. The Arabs of the Sahara retain their distinguishing characteristics.