When he stepped onto the ground, Jack twisted the rope ladder behind the tree trunk so it wouldn’t be noticed. “Okay,” he said to Annie.
“Hey!” Annie called again, waving. She and Jack stepped out into the open.
The camel riders headed toward the palm trees. The man in the lead made his camel kneel. As he climbed off, Jack and Annie ran over to him. The man wore a long white robe. He had a black beard and stern, dark eyes. “Who are you?” he asked, unsmiling. “From where do you come?”
“I am Annie, and this is my brother, Jack,” said Annie. “Our home is far away in Frog Creek, Pennsylvania.”
“I have not heard of such a place,” the man said. “How do you come to be here in the desert alone?”
“Uh …” Jack didn’t know what to say.
“We were riding with our family,” Annie said. “We stopped to rest here. My brother and I took a nap behind these trees. When we woke up, everyone was gone. They left us by mistake. See, we have a really big family. There are many brothers and sisters—”
“Annie,” said Jack. She was saying too much, he thought.
The man looked concerned. “Why have they not come back for you?” he said, gazing out at the desert. “I hope they have not been attacked by bandits.”
“Are there bandits around here?” asked Annie.
“There are many bandits prowling the desert,” said the man.
Jack looked anxiously around at the vast sandy plain.
“That is why one must always travel with others,” said the man. “But I hope your family is safe and will return for you soon.”
“Excuse me,” Annie said politely. “But who are you? How did you happen to come here?”
“I am a merchant,” the man said. “My caravan was traveling from the west, when we were surprised by a sudden sandstorm. It seemed to come from nowhere. But luckily it brought us to this oasis. We will rest and water our animals until the sun goes down. In the cool of the night, we will travel on to Baghdad.”
The caravan leader walked over to his men and spoke to them. They dismounted and started taking saddlebags off the camels.
Annie turned to Jack. “See, our rhyme worked!” she whispered. “The sandstorm was magic! It brought them here on their way to Baghdad!”
“But how can we get them to help us?” said Jack.
“Well, Merlin said we should be humble, so let’s offer to help them,” said Annie. She walked over to the caravan leader. He was filling a canvas bucket with water from a small spring.
“Excuse me,” said Annie, “we wondered if we could help you.”
The man gave her a quick smile. “Thank you, yes,” he said. “If you could gather dates, it would be most appreciated. My men are very hungry.” He handed Annie two large baskets.
“No problem,” said Annie. “We’ll gather dates.”
Annie carried the baskets to Jack. “Do you know what a date is?” she whispered. “We’re supposed to gather some.”
“I’ll look it up,” said Jack. With his back to the camel riders, he pulled their research book out of his bag and looked up dates. He read:
Dates are known as the fruit of the desert. They hang in bunches from date palms. People gather dates by shaking the trunk of the tree. Not only are dates an important food, but the wood and leaves of the date palm are used to make—
“Okay, got it,” interrupted Annie, putting the baskets down. “Let’s start shaking the trees!”
Jack put the book away and looked around. For the first time, he noticed bunches of brown fruit hanging from the trees. He grabbed hold of the nearest tree trunk. Annie grabbed the trunk from the other side. Together they shook the tree until dates began falling to the ground.
In the desert heat, Jack and Annie went from tree to tree, shaking each one and gathering the dates that fell to the ground. By the time they had filled their baskets, the trees were casting long shadows over the oasis.
Tired and sweaty, Jack and Annie carried their heavy baskets back to the caravan leader. He was boiling water over a fire of twigs. “Ah, very good,” he said. “Thank you, Jack and Annie.”
“You’re welcome,” said Annie. “What else can we do for you?”
“You should rest from the heat now,” said the man. “Would you like to sit and have tea with us?”
“Sure,” said Annie. “By the way, what’s your name?”
“My name is very long,” the man said with a smile. “You may call me Mamoon.”
While their camels grazed, Mamoon and his men sat on a woolen rug spread over the grass. They shared dates and tea with Jack and Annie. The dark, plump fruit was sweet and chewy. The tea was strong but good.
In the fiery red glow of the setting sun, Jack watched the grazing camels. He thought the humped animals looked really funny. They had knobby knees, big clumsy feet, and little ears that twitched. Some camels smacked their droopy lips as they drank water. Others gobbled down whole branches of thornbushes without chewing.
“Don’t the thorns hurt the camels’ throats?” Jack asked Mamoon.
“No,” said the caravan leader. “Their mouths are very tough. They can eat anything: sticks, bones—”
“Even our tents and saddlebags if we let them!” said a young camel rider.
Annie and Jack laughed. “What’s in your saddlebags?” Annie asked.
“Our bags are filled with goods from Greece, Turkey, and Syria,” said Mamoon. “We have many things: jewels, beads, and precious spices, such as cinnamon, pepper, and vanilla. We are taking everything to Baghdad to sell.”
“We have to get to Baghdad, too,” said Annie.
“We have to meet with the caliph.”
The camel riders chuckled as if they thought Annie was making a joke.
Only Mamoon did not laugh. “Your family is to meet with the caliph?” he said.
“No,” said Annie. “Just Jack and me. We have to help him spread wisdom to the world.”
“Annie,” warned Jack.
The camel riders laughed loudly.
“What’s so funny?” Annie asked.
“The caliph does not meet with children,” said a young man. “He is the most powerful and important person in the world.”
“Oh,” said Annie, frowning.
The news worried Jack, too.
Mamoon looked at Annie and Jack with a curious expression. “Night will soon be upon us. Since your family has not yet returned, would you like to travel with us to Baghdad?” he said. “You have journeyed by camel this far. I trust you can ride camels the rest of the way.”
“Sure we can!” said Annie. “We love camels!”
We do? thought Jack.
“Good. We love our ships of the desert, too,” said Mamoon. “We will set sail on them soon.”
“So that’s what ‘ships of the desert’ are!” Annie whispered to Jack.
Camels, thought Jack. Oh, brother.
The camel riders all silently watched the sun set over the faraway dunes. As the fiery ball slipped beneath the horizon, the desert was flooded with red light. As soon as the sun disappeared, the air grew much cooler.
Mamoon stood up. “It is time to go,” he said.
The camel riders put out their small fire. In the growing darkness, Mamoon helped them saddle up their animals and load them with baggage.
Then Mamoon came over to Jack and Annie. “You can ride those two sisters,” he said, pointing to two camels kneeling in the sand. “Climb on, then come to the front of the line to ride with me.”
Jack and Annie walked over to the two camel sisters. Each had reins hanging from her neck. Saddles made from colorful cushions were piled high on their humps.
Annie patted the wiry, tan-colored fur of one of the camels. The camel looked at Annie with big eyes and fluttered her thick eyelashes. “Hey, Cutie,” said Annie.
The other camel nuzzled Annie’s neck. “Hey, Beauty,” Annie said to the other. “You want some attention, too?”
“Cutie and
Beauty?” said Jack. He didn’t find either camel particularly cute or beautiful.
Annie climbed onto Cutie’s saddle cushion and picked up the reins. “Let’s ride!” she said.
Cutie rose awkwardly up from a kneeling position to a full stand. “Oh, wow!” said Annie, towering over Jack. “She’s really tall.”
Jack started to climb onto Beauty. But the camel caught an end of his head cloth and began chewing it.
“Stop that!” said Jack, pulling the cloth away from her. Beauty opened her mouth wide and flashed rows of sharp teeth. Jack drew back.
“Don’t be afraid,” said Annie.
“Easy for you to say,” said Jack. “Yours likes you.”
“Don’t worry, Beauty likes you, too,” said Annie. “I can tell.” Annie’s camel began ambling toward the other camels waiting to head off into the desert. “Come on, Jack! It’s really fun once you’re moving!” she called.
“Fun,” muttered Jack. “Right.” He held on to the ends of his head cloth and put his leg over Beauty’s hump. The camel eyed him suspiciously. She swished her tail, slapping his back.
“Hey!” said Jack.
Jack tried to get comfortable on the saddle cushion. But Beauty spat at him and made a weird screeching sound.
“Quiet!” said Jack. He hooked his shoulder bag onto a saddle horn. When he was finally settled, Beauty turned her head and started chewing on his leather bag.
“No! Don’t!” yelled Jack. He tried pulling the bag away, but Beauty played tug-of-war. “Come on, let go,” Jack said. “Give it back, stupid!”
“Do you really think she is stupid?”
Jack jumped. Mamoon had ridden up behind him and was watching as he tried to get his bag back from Beauty.
Jack was embarrassed. “Um, she won’t let go of my stuff,” he said.
Mamoon grabbed the strap of Jack’s bag. He clucked his tongue, and the camel let go. She groaned as Mamoon hooked the leather bag back onto the saddle horn.
“For thousands of years, camels like this one have carried people across the desert,” said Mamoon. “She is truly a miracle of nature.”
Some miracle, thought Jack.
“She can drink two barrels of water in ten minutes,” said Mamoon, “and then go for a week without drinking again. She can live many days without food, too.”
“Really?” said Jack.
“She is well suited to travel in the desert,” said Mamoon. “Her thick eyebrows protect her eyes from the glare of the sun. Her long eyelashes and the fur around her ears keep out the windblown sand.”
“Cool,” said Jack softly.
“Her feet are so tough, they do not feel the heat of the desert,” said Mamoon. “And they are so big that they keep her from sinking down into the loose sand.”
“Hmm,” said Jack.
“She can carry five hundred pounds of baggage on her back,” said Mamoon, “and travel one hundred miles in a single day.”
“That’s a lot,” murmured Jack.
Mamoon tugged on the camel’s reins and clucked his tongue. Beauty breathed heavily as she rose up on her long, powerful legs to her full height.
Mamoon looked at Jack. “We must respect her and honor her,” he said. “In many ways, she is superior to us, no?”
Jack nodded. He thought of the words of Merlin’s letter. To succeed in your mission, you must be humble. He patted the camel. “Good girl, Beauty.”
Mamoon clucked his tongue again to coax the camel forward. Perched high on his saddle, Jack rocked from side to side. He did not feel at all safe, but he stayed calm. Beauty ambled over to Cutie. The two sisters stood together and snorted.
The desert sky was bright with stars. Mamoon called to his men, and the caravan started moving forward.
The camels walked with a swaying motion. They moved two big feet on one side, then two big feet on the other. Jack gripped the horn of his saddle as his “ship of the desert” rocked from left to right.
“Isn’t this fun?” said Annie, rocking alongside him.
“Sort of,” said Jack, shivering. Actually, he wasn’t having any fun at all. He felt seasick and was freezing in the night air. Also, he was worried about their mission. Would the caliph meet with them? If he did, how could they help him “spread wisdom to the world”? And if Baghdad was very far away, how would they ever find their way back to the tree house?
Mamoon slowed his camel until he was riding between Jack and Annie. “When I was a boy, I spent many cold nights in the desert riding with my father on journeys to the west,” he said. “At first, I, too, thought camels were foolish. I always longed for more blankets and for a smoother ride. I wished to be back in Baghdad in my own warm bed.”
Jack smiled. He liked the caravan leader.
“But over time, I have come to love the cold desert nights,” said Mamoon. “Now when I am sleeping in my warm bed in Baghdad, I long to be here instead. I wish to be reading the wind and the stars.”
“How do you read the stars?” asked Annie.
“They have their own language,” said Mamoon. “At this moment, we are heading east, toward the Goat Star.” He pointed at the sky.
Jack couldn’t tell which star was the Goat Star. But he was filled with wonder. Thousands of tiny lights twinkled in the black dome of night. There were more stars than Jack had ever imagined. Some looked close enough to touch.
Mamoon started singing a song. The other camel riders joined in. Jack couldn’t understand the words, but the tune was soothing. The camels seemed to sway to the music.
Jack stopped worrying about how they would get back to the tree house. And he found he was actually enjoying the fresh desert air. He started to relax.
“Jack,” Annie said softly. “Guess what—we just solved the first mystery in Merlin’s letter: Ride a ship of the desert on a cold starry night.”
“Yeah,” said Jack happily. “And it’s really fun.”
Suddenly a fierce shout came from the distance. Jack sat up straighter. His heart thumped.
“Bandits!” one of the camel drivers shouted.
Jack looked around wildly. Dark figures on horses were galloping across the sand toward them. They were yelling and shouting.
“Oh, no!” cried Jack. “What should we do?”
“We will fight them off!” said Mamoon. “You and Annie take this box and ride to the dunes!” Mamoon pulled a flat wooden box out of one of his saddlebags. He thrust the box into Jack’s hands. “Hurry! Ride as fast as you can! Protect it with your lives!”
Jack frantically tried to stuff the box into his shoulder bag. But Mamoon slapped the back of Jack’s camel, and she bolted forward. The reins slipped from Jack’s hands. He grabbed the saddle horn with one hand and clutched the wooden box to his chest with the other. He held on for his life as Beauty galloped across the dark desert.
Annie’s camel ran beside Jack’s. Like two racehorses, Beauty and Cutie thundered across the sand toward the distant dunes. Rocking crazily from side to side, Jack clung to the box. “Slow down!” he yelled. “Please!”
It was no use. Beauty ran like the wind. She and her sister practically flew over the desert under the starry sky. Jack wanted the camels to stop. But at the same time, he wanted to get far away from the bandits.
Finally the camels began to slow their pace. Jack looked back. He couldn’t see the caravan at all, and no one seemed to be following them.
When the two camels reached the dunes, they began plodding around the steep hills. Once they were nestled safely between tall sand drifts, they stopped to rest. Beauty grunted. Cutie snorted.
“Thanks … thanks, girls,” said Annie, panting.
“I hope Mamoon and the others are safe from the bandits,” said Jack.
“Me too,” said Annie. “What’s in the box he gave us?”
Jack held up the flat wooden box. “I don’t know,” he said. “But Mamoon said we should protect it with our lives.”
“Maybe it’s a precious spice,” said Anni
e.
“I hope it’s more than that,” said Jack. “I’d hate to risk my life for cinnamon or pepper.”
“Should we look?” said Annie.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “Mamoon might not want us to.”
“But don’t you think we could protect it better if we knew what it was?” said Annie.
“Maybe …,” said Jack. He could see Annie’s point. “Okay.”
Jack tried to open the lid of the box, but he couldn’t. In the dark, his finger pressed against a keyhole. “Forget it,” he said. “It’s locked.”
“Shh! Listen!” said Annie.
Jack listened. He heard a high-pitched moaning sound. It sounded like music from a violin. Wafting through the dry sand dunes, the haunting music grew louder.
“What is that?” said Jack.
“Uh-oh,” said Annie. “Now I hear something else.”
Jack held his breath. He heard hooves galloping over the desert. “The bandits!” he said.
“We have to hide the box!” said Annie.
“Where?” said Jack.
“In the sand!” said Annie. She clucked her tongue, and Cutie knelt down to the ground. Beauty knelt, too. Jack and Annie jumped off their saddle cushions and started digging in the sand.
The sound of hoofbeats grew louder and louder. Jack and Annie dug frantically. They threw sand behind them like puppies digging in the dirt.
“That’s deep enough!” said Jack. He placed the box in the hole they had dug. Then he and Annie pushed piles of sand back on top of it.
When they stood up, Annie gasped. “Look!”
A dark figure on a camel was silhouetted against the starlit sky. The rider was winding his way through the dunes toward them. Jack’s heart nearly pounded out of his chest.
“Should we use a magic rhyme?” Annie asked.
“We don’t have time!” said Jack.
The rider drew closer, until he stopped in front of Jack and Annie. “You are safe, no?” he said.
“Mamoon!” said Annie.
Season of the Sandstorms Page 2
