Suddenly,
from afar off, came to their ears the tinkle of a bell.
Mustapha raised his head.
"Is it the mirage again, my father?" he asked. "For it seems to me that
I hear the bell from the neck of Solimin, our camel."
Eagerly they listened. Again the bell tinkled, and, looking through the
bushes, they saw, floating toward them, as it seemed, the form of a
gigantic camel. Soundless and still, it moved rapidly along. Behind,
but much farther away, other forms could be seen, still dim and
indistinct, veiled by the mist of driving sand.
Suddenly Mustapha gave a start.
"My father," he cried, in an excited whisper, "it _is_ Solimin! I do
not mistake! What other camel ever resembled Solimin? Do you not see
his lofty hump,--his arched neck? Does not the bell tinkle as with the
voice of home?"
Then, half raising himself, he gave, with all the power of his voice,
the well-known call.
Solimin--for it was indeed he--paused as the sound caught his ears, and
snuffed the wind. Again came the call; he wheeled, plunged, threw his
rider, dashed forward, broke through the bushes, and in a second was on
his knees before his old master.
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