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Author of "The Purple Death"
IT SHOULD be within a few miles of here," said John Hunt. "The Arab from whom I got my information said it was near the well of Abul-Ala. And, if my reckoning is correct, the well is located in yonder oasis."
Billy Dean, American by birth, soldier of fortune by choice, veteran of the World War and constitutional daredevil, smiled serenely, touched a match to the inevitable cigarette and demanded: "But, Hunt, old man, is there such a meteorite?"
Hunt, phlegmatic Englishman, looked away across the burning sands of the desert.
"I think so. Al-Abu seemed to know what he was talking about. And he gave me explicit directions. He said the meteorite was seen, by a remote ancester of his, to enter the desert at a spot a few kilometers beyond the village of Hazad. His ancestor claimed to have seen the place where it fell in the oasis near that place.
"The tradition is that Al-Abu's family kept the spot in memory because, at that time, his ancestors believed it a fiery token from the god they worshiped—a sort of warning that the ruling dynasty, the Fatimites, was about to suffer extinction. The fact that in 1171 the Fatimites actually were overthrown probablystrengthened the tribal belief that the meteorite possessed supernatural portent.
"But, be that as it may, the descendants of Fatima, daughter of Mohammed, have handed down from generation to generation the story of the flaming star that hurtled through the sky leaving a trail of fire behind it as it buried itself deep in the sand."
Dean looked skeptical.
"I hope you are right," he said, after a pause. "This trekking about over a red-hot desert on a wild-goose chase is not much to my liking. However, if you are right, if the meteorite did bury itself in the oasis over there, it won't take us long to unearth it."
Hunt shrugged.
"I am right. I know it is there. But don't, for one minute, delude yourself. The task of raising a stone, tons in weight, is not going to prove a sinecure. My instruments will locate it. But they will not dig it up!"
Dean blew smoke rings and looked at the top of the tent beneath which he sprawled.
"Admitted," he grinned. "But what of these damned blacks—can't they get it out?"
