That is to say, he may
blunder on them by chance, but he cannot find them by using his
judgment. As Irene put it, here were not five, but five thousand hills.
The mortal puzzle before von Kerber was to pick his five.
When the caravan arrived at the halting-place the tense solitude gave
way to pandemonium. Camels grunted and squealed in eager plaint to be
relieved of their loads, horses neighed and fought for the best tufts
of grass, men raged at each other as though the work of preparing the
camp were something new and wholly unexpected.
Through the turmoil strode Abdur Kad'r, a lean, saturnine Arab, who
anathematized all his assistants indiscriminately, only varying his
epithets according to the nationality of the man under the lash of his
tongue at the moment.
"Bestir yourself, illegitimate one. Are we to await the setting sun ere
the tents are fixed?" he shouted at a negro who was bothered by a
knotted rope. A crash behind him told that a too-zealous Arab had
tumbled a box to the ground.
"Oh, you owl, what evil have you done?" roared the Sheikh, transfixing
the culprit with a glittering eye.
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