fast as an ordinary ship can sail. More
wonderful still, he will do this without stopping for food or water.
Nature has provided him with an extra stomach, in which he keeps a
store of drink, and with a hump on his back, made of jelly-like fat,
which, in time of need, is absorbed into the system and appropriated as
food. Is it not strange to think of a creature with a cistern and a
meat-safe inside him? A horse would be useless in the desert, where no
oats or grass can be had; but the brave, patient camel goes steadily on
without complaint till the oasis is reached: then he champs his thorn
bushes, fills himself from the spring, allows the heavy pack to be
fastened on his back again, and is ready for further travel.

Now you know what sort of a ship it is that I am going to tell you
about. It was a camel, named Solimin. He was of a rare and valuable
breed, known as "herie," or coursers, because they are so much swifter
than ordinary camels. Solimin's master, Ahmed, was a poor man. He never
could have afforded to buy a full-grown camel of this rare breed; and
Solimin had become his through a piece of good fortune. When a little
foal, Solimin was found in a lonely place in the desert, standing over
the dead body of his mother, who had fallen and perished by the way.
Led to the brown tent which was Ahmed's home, the orphan baby grew up
as a child of the family, lay among the little ones at night, and was
their pet and plaything all the day. The boys taught him to kneel, to
rise, to carry burdens, to turn this way and that at a signal. The
girls hung a necklace of blessed shells around his neck, saved for him
the best of the food, sang him songs (which he was supposed to enjoy),
and daily kissed and stroked his gentle nose and eyes. As he grew big
and strong, the pride of his owners grew with him. Not another family
of the tribe possessed a herie. Once and again, Ahmed was offered a
large price for him, but he rejected it with disdain.

"Would I sell my son--the son of my heart?" he said. "Neither will I
part with Solimin. By the Prophet, I swear it."

Of all the dwellers in the brown tent Solimin loved best Ahmed himself,
and his eldest son, Mustapha. With them he was docile as a lamb; but if
strangers drew near, or persons he did not like, he became restive and
fierce, screamed, laid back his ears, and kicked with his strong hind
legs. A kick from a camel is no joke, I can tell you. All the desert
guides knew Solimin,