So he summoned all his household, and he gave the brief command,--
"Go and gather all our substance;--we depart from out the land."
Then they journeyed to the Desert with a great and numerous train,
To his old nomadic instinct trusting life and wealth again.
It was now the sixth day's journey, when they met the moving sand,
On the great wind of the Desert, driving o'er that arid land;
And the air was red and fervid with the Simoom's fiery breath;--
None could see his nearest fellow in the stifling blast of death.
Blinded men from prostrate camels piled the stores to windward round,
And within the barrier herded, on the hot, unstable ground.
Two whole days the great wind lasted, when the living of the train
From the hot drifts dug the camels and resumed their way again.
But the lines of care grew deeper on the master's swarthy cheek,
While around the weakest fainted and the strongest waxed weak;
And the water-skins were empty, and a silent murmur ran
From the faint, bewildered servants through the straggling caravan:--
"Let the land we left be blessed!--that to which we go, accurst!--
From our pleasant wells of water came we here to die of thirst?"
But the master stilled the murmur with his steadfast, quiet eye:--
"God is great," he said, devoutly,--"when _He_ wills it, we shall die.
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