tarpaulin was blown away like a kite at the seashore. Despite closing the windows, fine sand crept through, covering everybody. It wasn’t until the early hours of the night that the storm passed by and a calm arose that was as eerie as the roaring of the wind had been before. Nobody moved. Listening. Awaiting another storm.
But there was no other storm. In the dark, the passengers alit from the roadster, dusted off their clothes and breathed the cold fresh air outside.
“It is too early to drive on and too late to set up camp,” said Professor Witherspoon, “so everybody just make the best of it until morning and daylight.”
“I think that palm tree saved us, praise Allah,” Apera remarked to Emily. “Isn’t it strange that out here away from the birds or insects that might plant a palm seed in the ground that this lonely date palm should be standing,” she added. “Date Palm?” asked Emily. “Oh yes,” replied Apera. “In another month you will see the dates closely gathered in the branches.”
“The dated jewels,” Emily mused. “If this tree is about one day’s camel march from Cairo, it must have been seen, near where the robbers attacked the caravan. Suppose the thief hid them here by the date tree. “Apera,” Emily asked, “would you help me?” “Of course, my dear, “Apera replied, “what can I do?”
Emily explained her suspicion that the jewels were buried near the date tree. “But the sands have added another two feet to the dessert,” Apera noted. Nevertheless, the two women sifted sand from the tree to six feet away in every direction. Nothing was found. “Oh dear,” sighed Emily, “here I have made you work so hard for nothing. Please forgive me.”
“Not at all,” said Apera, “there was nothing else to do until daylight anyway and I hate to be idle.” “Just think, by tomorrow we shall be in Cairo and I shall be with my beloved Panwar, who has been helping Professor Dasam there.”
The roadster seemed to be in good shape. When Professor Witherspoon cranked it a couple of times it caught on and made that rumbling sound all of the passengers had gotten used to, except for Apera who still fingered her prayer beads and implored Allah to see her safely through the ordeal.
“I’m afraid the automobile is stuck quite deeply in the sand,” said the driver. “Will everybody get behind the boot and push together.” “The boot?” asked Emily. “That is what the English call the trunk of the car and, of course, the English were here well before we Americans,” explained the professor.
“One.” “Two.” “Three, now push,” the driver called. At first nothing stirred. The car seemed stuck for life. But suddenly it began to move. “Don’t let up,” called the driver. And miraculously the roadster rose and rose out of the deep sand until it was about to be level with the desert when suddenly the front tires stopped dead and sank back two feet.
The driver and Professor Witherspoon were befuddled. “Emily,” called the professor, “would you crawl under the bonnet, I mean the front hood, and see what might be in the way of the tires.”
Emily crawled on her belly under the roadster’s radiator between the tires. She scraped sand this way and that way and was about to crawl back out when she felt something. She dug her fingers into the sand. Something was there that felt smooth and it wasn’t sand. She dug some more but it was too deep to remove. She crawled out and told the professor there was something there but she could not remove it alone.
The driver asked the passengers to push the front of the roadster back into the sand right on top of the roots of the palm tree When the automobile was backed right against the tree, the driver and Professor Witherspoon and Emily got on their hands knees and looked for the spot Emily had felt before. “Right here,” she said.
In no time time at all three large bags made from the skin of a camel were uncovered. The
But there was no other storm. In the dark, the passengers alit from the roadster, dusted off their clothes and breathed the cold fresh air outside.
“It is too early to drive on and too late to set up camp,” said Professor Witherspoon, “so everybody just make the best of it until morning and daylight.”
“I think that palm tree saved us, praise Allah,” Apera remarked to Emily. “Isn’t it strange that out here away from the birds or insects that might plant a palm seed in the ground that this lonely date palm should be standing,” she added. “Date Palm?” asked Emily. “Oh yes,” replied Apera. “In another month you will see the dates closely gathered in the branches.”
“The dated jewels,” Emily mused. “If this tree is about one day’s camel march from Cairo, it must have been seen, near where the robbers attacked the caravan. Suppose the thief hid them here by the date tree. “Apera,” Emily asked, “would you help me?” “Of course, my dear, “Apera replied, “what can I do?”
Emily explained her suspicion that the jewels were buried near the date tree. “But the sands have added another two feet to the dessert,” Apera noted. Nevertheless, the two women sifted sand from the tree to six feet away in every direction. Nothing was found. “Oh dear,” sighed Emily, “here I have made you work so hard for nothing. Please forgive me.”
“Not at all,” said Apera, “there was nothing else to do until daylight anyway and I hate to be idle.” “Just think, by tomorrow we shall be in Cairo and I shall be with my beloved Panwar, who has been helping Professor Dasam there.”
The roadster seemed to be in good shape. When Professor Witherspoon cranked it a couple of times it caught on and made that rumbling sound all of the passengers had gotten used to, except for Apera who still fingered her prayer beads and implored Allah to see her safely through the ordeal.
“I’m afraid the automobile is stuck quite deeply in the sand,” said the driver. “Will everybody get behind the boot and push together.” “The boot?” asked Emily. “That is what the English call the trunk of the car and, of course, the English were here well before we Americans,” explained the professor.
“One.” “Two.” “Three, now push,” the driver called. At first nothing stirred. The car seemed stuck for life. But suddenly it began to move. “Don’t let up,” called the driver. And miraculously the roadster rose and rose out of the deep sand until it was about to be level with the desert when suddenly the front tires stopped dead and sank back two feet.
The driver and Professor Witherspoon were befuddled. “Emily,” called the professor, “would you crawl under the bonnet, I mean the front hood, and see what might be in the way of the tires.”
Emily crawled on her belly under the roadster’s radiator between the tires. She scraped sand this way and that way and was about to crawl back out when she felt something. She dug her fingers into the sand. Something was there that felt smooth and it wasn’t sand. She dug some more but it was too deep to remove. She crawled out and told the professor there was something there but she could not remove it alone.
The driver asked the passengers to push the front of the roadster back into the sand right on top of the roots of the palm tree When the automobile was backed right against the tree, the driver and Professor Witherspoon and Emily got on their hands knees and looked for the spot Emily had felt before. “Right here,” she said.
In no time time at all three large bags made from the skin of a camel were uncovered. The
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