The Art of Smuggling Camels
part five, A Collective Conjugation of Camels
(special thanks to Halavana for contributing her technical expertise )


"Staying aboard a camel running at full speed is more of a trick than most folks know. They run at a pace; the legs on each side working in unison. There's a rhythm, of course, for both the rider and the runner. Once you slip into it, it can either rock you to sleep... or make you sea-sick."

Sam noticed the color rising in Pete's face and guessed easily whom it was who got sick during the journey. Sam said nothing; he had always proved wise for his age.

Pete chuckled with good humor in spite of his embarrassment. "Mac, you saved my life before I even learned who you were, and before you really knew who I was. If I haven't thanked you before, I thank you now. But I have to tell you; there were moments during that ride when I would have preferred to have died! I don't know which was more sore: my head... or my hind-end!"

Mac raised his glass of water in a mock toast. "It was a rough ride, that's for sure. It took six days, Sam, to cross the rest of Saudi Arabia and go through Jordan and Israel-- dodging both terrorists and legitimate border guards-- and though I wouldn't say it was easy, we did manage it smoothly. Until we got to Egypt. That's where we met our biggest challenge."

In the Nile River Valley

Pete lay back against the dune and closed his eyes, wishing that the rocking sensation would cease. He was sunburned, seasick, saddle-sore, and he smelled funky, like... like a camel. In addition to these discomforts, he now bore Dingo's teeth marks on his leg. The wily, half-wild camel had turned his head back and bitten Pete-- for no reason!-- just before they had come up to the border of Israel.

Mac had clucked at the beast and waved his rope and finally whacked it on the rump with his hand. Dingo then subsided and obeyed him. But the damage was done; Pete was keeping an eye on the camel, and it seemed to him that Dingo was keeping an eye on him, too.

Mac had suddenly called a halt in the middle of their sixth day of riding, sliding off of the camel and urging Pete to do the same. Dingo happily flopped down on his belly, tucking his long legs beneath him, and promptly went to sleep. Mac handed Pete their last canteen and left him, climbing up the tallest nearby dune and digging in; and there he still was, with his binoculars held to his eyes. When Pete's stomach finally stopped swaying, he crawled up and settled down beside him, squinting into the dancing distance at what appeared to be nothing but more miles of burning sand.

"God, I'd give anything to see a tree again," Pete muttered.

"You should come to my neck of the woods sometime; to Minnesota. I'll show you a tree or two." What Pete could see of Mac's face over his Bedouin scarf was smiling. He passed the binoculars to Pete. "Take a look over there, beyond the dunes."

Pete took a moment to focus the glasses. "I can see... what is that... water?"

"The Nile. This time of year she's pretty low. We should be able to find a place where we can cross, but we're going to need some help. See those tents?"

"Yep. I see lots of tents. And some armored vehicles. Is it the terrorists?"

"No. We left them back in the Waddi Nefud, but those may be their allies, or at least people willing to sell us out for a buck. We need to get past them quickly, and without too many questions."

"Then we should lose the camel and move at night. We can steal a boat and be in Cairo by dawn the day after tomorrow." Pete was already assessing the distance and how much time it would take to cross by foot.

"Or we could keep the camel, and will a little help we can be in Cairo in time for dinner tonight."

"Tonight? How? And with what kind of help?"

"The four-legged kind." Pete looked at Mac, but Mac was not looking ahead. He was staring back down the dune at Dingo, who was now in the company of three wild camels. They stood together as if in a huddle, touching noses and grunting at each other.

Pete groaned. "Not more camels!"

Mac laughed softly. "In this case, the more the merrier. I got an idea..."

⌂

Amir leaned against his rifle and cursed. He cursed the heat of the sun that was burning his neck. He cursed the sand that was filling his boots, and invading his clothing no matter how he tried to avoid it. He cursed the bitter water he was forced to drink. He cursed his commanding officer who had told him to guard this shack, the furthest post south on this side of the river, as punishment for being caught playing dice in the barracks. He'd lived all his life near the desert, but that didn't mean he liked it. He cursed the desert, shaking his fist at the shining dunes that rose beyond the river valley.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye; a camel had come out of the desert and was walking down to the river to drink. As Amir watched the camel was joined by another, and it was followed by two more. They stood with their long spindly legs spread, drinking noisily. Amir growled another curse, glad that he was upwind of the foul beasts.

He never saw Mac creeping up behind him. He felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned his head, and then the day went dark as Mac's fist connected with his jaw.

Mac caught the soldier as he collapsed and lowered him gently to the ground. "Sorry 'bout that," he said softly, patting him on the shoulder. Then he turned his head and gave a whistle. Pete appeared, carrying their gear. "Pete, come and fill the canteens from one of these water barrels."

Mac quickly tied up the unfortunate soldier, using strips of silvery duct tape he took from a flattened roll he kept in his back pocket. Then he searched the small shack from the dirt floor to the rafters. He found several barrels of water, a few books of matches, a dented can of kerosene and a lantern, a few half-melted candles, a warped deck of playing cards, and a box containing shells for the rifle.

The rifle was lying in the sand where it had fallen. Pete picked it up and brushed it off, wondering if any grit had gotten inside to foul the mechanism. He chambered a round and smiled at the smooth action; it was oiled and well-maintained, evidence of a truly bored soldier.

When he glanced up, he saw that Mac was watching him with a frown in his eyes. "This might come in useful," Pete said. "Did you find any ammo for it?"

"I think we'd be better off without that," was Mac's answer. He took one of the canteens and the rope from Pete, and then headed down to the water to harness Dingo.

Pete stared after him. What a strange man, he thought. He shouldered the rifle and covered it with a stolen robe. The box of shells went into an inner pocket. They rattled as he walked down to the river to join Mac.

Herding the camels was easy; the females happily followed Dingo. He was obviously their idea of a perfect mate. He trotted ahead, snorting frequently and nipping the other camels--and his riders-- to show his dominance. Pete acquired two more camel-bites before they arrived at the bustling, busy marketplace of Lower Cairo. The sun was just starting to make long shadows across the streets as they dismounted for what Pete hoped was last time.

Mac took Dingo's massive, ugly head in his hands and scratched him behind his ears. The camel groaned with pleasure and gave Mac a rough, wet lick with his tongue, then turned on his tail and trotted out into the sands again with his new harem on his heels.

Pete watched them running together, and he had to laugh even as he rubbed his sore parts. "At least we know one fellow in Egypt who is going to get lucky tonight."

Even the dirty scarf across his face couldn't hide Mac's rakish grin. He slapped Pete on the back, raising a cloud of dust, and together they walked into the comfortable crowd of the Cairo marketplace. They couldn't keep their spirits down; it seemed that they were home free.

…Until they turned the corner to approach the American Embassy and found the alley full of rough-looking men. They were surrounded in seconds, in the very shadow of their sanctuary.

Mac looked around desperately as Pete sighed, "Where's a camel when you need one?"



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