Page:Ossendowski - The Fire of Desert Folk.djvu/83

Rh lizards moved about in the grass and the cicadas once more released their rasping notes.

It was very late before we finally returned to our hotel, as our delightful friend regaled us with never-ending stories of the life of the Berber tribes, more than one of which stirred within me strong imagination and an indefinable longing, so common to those who penetrate toward the heart and soul of this country which has been tramped by the feet of millions of conquering aliens, drowned in the blood and tears of numberless struggles and burned to tinder by the merciless sun—merciless, to be sure, but not strong enough to stamp out life. Once let its face be veiled with clouds and a few drops of rain be given to the thirsty soil, and immediately this apparently scorched earth covers itself with a carpet of bright flowers, the flocks of patient sheep begin to pasture and to play, while men, parched by the blast of the eternal heavenly fire, forget the heat, raise their heads and dream of happiness, love and liberty, these most beautiful gifts of God.

"Msa el-Khir (Good night)," said our French friend.

"Alaikum es-salaam," we answered, having taken from the manual of French-Arabic conversation by Monsieur Delaporte the necessary phrase to meet the requirements of politeness.