Thus far, no unexpected difficulties
had cropped up. The few nomads encountered were only too anxious to be
friendly. The weather, scorching by day and intensely cold by night,
was quite bearable. Indeed, to any one in good health, it supplied a
marvelous tonic. Travelers less admirably equipped might have suffered
annoyance from the snakes and scorpions which seem to thrive in the
midst of sunburnt desolation, but these _voyageurs de luxe_ slept in
hammocks slung in roomy tents, and assiduous servants dislodged every
stone before they spread the felt carpets on which the heaven-born
deigned to sit at meals.
Yet--as Irene had guessed correctly--this magnificent progress through
the desert contained a canker that threatened its destruction. Either
von Kerber's calculations were at fault, or the papyrus was a madman's
screed. The caravan was already two marches beyond the point agreed on
by every authority consulted as that fixed by the Greek who survived
the massacre of the Roman legion. The unhappy Austrian could no more
identify the Five Hills mentioned in the papyrus as the essential clue
to the whereabouts of the treasure than a man in an unknown forest can
distinguish a special group of five trees.
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