So,
at one time, this arid plain had borne a forest. To the mind's eye,
here lay the dead earth's burial-place.
Ages ago a torrent had fertilized the surrounding tract, and its dried-
up bed was marked by water-smoothed boulders. Here and there, small
groups of dwarf bushes, covered with dagger-like thorns, drew
sustenance from secret rills of moisture. The camel path they followed
had the distinctness of daily use, though no recognized _kafila_ had
passed that way during the previous year, new trade routes to the
interior having drawn the caravans in other directions. Soon it turned
up the side of the ravine. The _sayall_ bushes began to grow more
densely, and the wady spread to a great width. Beyond a patch of
pebbles lay a brown carpet of tough grass. In the center stood seven
date-trees and a considerable number of stunted bushes, these latter
differing from the _sayall_ only in the size of their thorns, which
were fully two inches long and seemingly untouchable. Yet, next to
water, the thorn-crop constituted the chief wealth of the oasis,
because camels would munch the tough spines with great relish.
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