It appeared, however, that this
was not the case. Either the Arabs were mistaken, or the noble
brute, uncooped and unchained, had but lately crossed my path.
The camels with which I traversed this part of the Desert were very
different in their ways and habits from those that you get on a
frequented route. They were never led. There was not the
slightest sign of a track in this part of the Desert, but the
camels never failed to choose the right line. By the direction
taken at starting they knew, I suppose, the point (some encampment)
for which they were to make. There is always a leading camel
(generally, I believe, the eldest), who marches foremost, and
determines the path for the whole party. If it happens that no one
of the camels has been accustomed to lead the others, there is very
great difficulty in making a start. If you force your beast
forward for a moment, he will contrive to wheel and draw back, at
the same time looking at one of the other camels with an expression
and gesture exactly equivalent to apres vous. The responsibility
of finding the way is evidently assumed very unwillingly. After
some time, however, it becomes understood that one of the beasts
has reluctantly consented to take the lead, and he accordingly
advances for that purpose.
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