"Let us stop for the night, Leon. In the morn the Dahas and I will make a sweep to see if we can pick up our road."
This seemed like a good plan. Next morning they went off. To keep them from getting lost, I rigged a tent pole atop Aias' back and tied a piece of cloth to it. This could be seen for many furlongs. I climbed up on the elephant myself to follow their movements.
The scouts came back at noon. "We have found no sign of the road," said Vardanas. "That cursed storm must have wiped out all tracks."
"Saw you no sign of other travelers?"
"None. We might have been whisked by magic to another province."
"We're traveling southwest, so if we go on in that direction we cannot go too far astray."
Thyestes said: "We maun wait until later, to tell which way the sun is setting."
This we did. However, we no sooner thought we had found our true course and marched a few furlongs than another sandstorm came down upon us. We halted again.
At eventide the dust blew away. We made a few furlongs during the night, guiding ourselves by the stars. The next day, sandstorms again held us up for hours. So it went for days.
Although we had plenty of food, fodder and water were getting scant. I lowered the daily dole of water, and we carried pebbles in our mouths to keep the spittle flowing. Every shrub along the way was torn up and fed to our beasts.
One morning Protos, a Thessalian, said: "Troop Leader, yesternight my father appeared to me in a dream. 'Turn back, lad,' he cried, 'afore the jackals pick the flesh from your bones!'"
"Fine advice!" I scoffed. "Now that we're over halfway to our goal, your goodsire's ghost would have us turn about and lose oursels allenarly."
" 'Tis no the distance only, Troop Leader," said another. "Yesterday I saw three hawks flying from the left. You ken what that means."
"We maun pray more to the gods," said another.
"Go ahead," I said. "I've been praying for days the now."
"Prayer's no good enough," said Antimachos, another Thessalian. "Sacrifice is needed."
"What shall we sacrifice?" said Protos. "Outen the beasts we carina move."
"Say rather, whom?" said Antimachos.
This proposal aroused a storm of dispute: "Dinna look at me, body, or I'll knock the head from your shoulders!" "Some of these bairns would no be missed ..." " 'Tis fine for you who have none to say so, but any man who'd lay hand on mine maun deal with me first!" "We should draw lots!" "Why no the camel master? He's nought but a foreigner..."
"Hold your tongues!" I shouted. "The next man who proposes human sacrifice shall be the first victim. Do I hear any volunteers? No? I'm ashamed of you, acting like witless savages. 'Tis an old and true saying that the gods help them that help themselves. So let's push on, and let there be no more nonsense."
That night Oinopion, one of our new Arkadians, was caught trying to steal water. I flogged him and warned him that the next attempt would be punished by death.
But some never learn. The next night, Oinopion's comrade, Kteatos, was caught in the same way. As the men dragged him before me and accused him, I questioned him in the light of an oil lamp. He spat at me and snarled:
"Wouldst not do the like for thy lover?"
"Cut off his head," I commanded Kanadas. The Arkadian, however, would not kneel to give his executioner a clear swing. He struggled and cursed until Kanadas, losing patience, brought the huge sword straight down, splitting his head to the teeth.
Somebody shouted: "Leon! Look out!"
I dropped to the ground as a javelin whizzed over me. Oinopion, who had thrown it, ran off. In the darkness he tripped and fell before he had gone fifty paces. By the time he got up, the Thessalians were all around him, spearing him. He was dead when I reached the scene.
Next day we buried the dead and set out again. We met more sandstorms. The elephant grumbled; the camels moaned; the horses and mules hung their heads. When we could move, we walked to spare the animals.
The wobbly camel abruptly lay down and died. Wc shifted its load to others and butchered it while the camel master Dadarshes, a stupid and timorous youth, wept and wailed. We gave the camel's blood to the children to drink. We took over two hundred pounds of its meat with us, though it was too tough to eat raw and we could not cook it for want of fuel. We ran out of bread and could not make more for the same reason. Even as we left the spot, a swarm of jackals and hyenas appeared to quarrel over the carcass. Vultures dropped out of the sky.
The next day the country changed. It was still flat, but with patches of white caking. The soil became damp, though still no plants grew. Joyfully we dug a hole, into which water seeped. When we had a spoonful I tasted it. It was salt.
The white patches, too, were salt. They waxed larger, and the footing became treacherous. It was slippery mud under a thin crust of salt. A camel slipped and fell, thrashed about, and died. Dadarshes, weeping, explained that it had broken its back. This time we cut only a few steaks from it, because we were overloaded with food, whilst shy of fodder and water. Vardanas said:
"We must bear west, Leon. I have heard of this salt marsh. In spring it becomes a great shallow lake; it stretches many leagues to the south."
We bore right and at last passed out of the salt beds. A horse fell and could not be gotten up again. The elephant was a gaunt, shuffling wreck. Siladites had to goad him ever and anon to keep him moving.
There were more reports of portentous dreams and sinister omens. The cook told how, as he had walked away from the camp in hope of finding a place where water could be dug for, a viper crossed his path, reared its head, and said: "Go no further, man! The gods of Persia have doomed you!"
To keep the men's spirits from falling so low as to render them useless, I was driven to concocting false but favorable omens of my own. When I told how a white gazelle had walked three times around the camp at night and then galloped off westward, they became noticeably cheered. This experience made me even more doubtful than before of omens.
In midafternoon we were packing our gear for our evening's march when one of the Dahas began talking excitedly to Vardanas and pointing.
"Horsemen," said Vardanas. "Probably Asagartians."
The Asagartian nomads live northwest of the Waterless Plain, in southern Parthia. As these riders were several days' march from their usual haunts, I guessed they were raiders.
I put our trumpet to my lips, but my mouth was so dry I could not blow a note. I therefore told the men in a croaking voice to make ready for battle.
The horsemen grew from specks to clearly visible figures. There were forty or fifty of them, riding towards us without haste.
When they were a few plethra from us, the riders halted. Three cantered forward, raising their hands. I said:
"They wish a parley. Vardanas, you and I and Skounchas shall meet them: you to interpret their dialect and Skounchas to keep his bow handy."
We rode out to meet them. They were a ragged, sun-blackened lot, in gaudily colored shirts and long stockings. Most of them bore no weapons other than a knife and a kamynda coiled at their waists. One, who seemed to be the leader, carried a spiked club like that of Vardanas.
The leader began a harangue, which Vardanas answered now and then with a few words. After this had gone on for a while I said: "El How about some translation, laddie?"
"Patience, Leon. He is telling me his pedigree to prove how honorable and important he is."
The Asagartian spoke again. There came a sound of hooves. I looked around to see one of the other nomads galloping up to Vardanas from behind, whirling his kamynda. The man had quietly walked his horse around behind us while the leader held our attention with his oration.