'I was raised on a ranch in Wyoming.'
He turned the truck into the wide main street and braked to a halt outside the largest house, scattering a herd of goats.
Kane got down and Ruth Cunningham followed him. 'After we've had our talk with Omar, we'll take a flight over the Shabwa area,' he said to Marie.
She nodded. 'Take care, Gavin, and don't go too far out into the desert. It's bad flying country.' She glanced at her watch. 'Let's see - with any luck, we should be back here just after noon.'
Kane smiled. 'We'll be back by then easily.'
There was a grinding of gears and the truck shot away in a cloud of dust. Kane turned to speak to Ruth Cunningham and found the headman of the village standing outside his door, waiting to welcome them.
'You honour my poor house, Captain Kane,' he said in Arabic.
Kane smiled. 'Always I come when I need something, my friend, but let us go inside. The sun is hot and the events of the past half-hour have given me a great desire to sit down.'
Omar led the way into his windowless, mud-brick home. The house was divided into two rooms. In one were kept the goats and chickens belonging to the family, and the other was the general living room. At night Omar and his family simply lay down in their robes on rush mats and slept.
Despite the obvious poverty of the place, Omar bin Naser had the native courtesy and instinctive dignity of the Arab. He motioned Kane and Ruth Cunningham to two cushions and clapped his hands. Within a few moments, a woman entered the room, wearing a long black outer robe which also closely veiled her face. She carried a brass pot in her left hand and three cups in the other.
After the customary feigned refusals that courtesy demanded, Kane accepted a cup and nodded slightly to Ruth Cunningham who followed suit. The woman poured a few drops into their cup and waited for approval. It was Yemeni mocha - the finest coffee in the world. Kane smiled and held out his cup, which the woman promptly filled.
Omar waved her away and Kane offered him a cigarette, which the headman accepted eagerly. When it was drawing to his satisfaction, he sat back with a sigh and said courteously, 'In what way may I help you?'
Kane nodded to Ruth Cunningham. 'I seek this lady's husband,' he said. 'He came here about two months ago. Can you tell us anything about him?'
Omar's eyes sparked with interest, and he inclined his head to Ruth Cunningham with a pleasant smile and said to Kane, 'Presumably the woman does not understand Arabic?' When Kane nodded, he went on, 'A man did come here some two months ago. He arrived with a convoy of trucks one day. They went on to the camp of the American Jordan, but this man stayed in Bir el Madam.'
'Where did he go from here?' Kane said.
Omar shrugged. 'Who knows? He was mad - quite mad. He wanted to journey from Shabwa to Marib by camel. He needed guides.'
'And did you help him?' Kane said.
Omar nodded. 'The camels I could supply, but the guides were another matter. No one ventures into the Empty Quarter, as you know, unless he is a hunted man with a price on his head.'
'Then he went alone?'
The headman shook his head. 'There was a mad Bedouin passing through here at the time - a Rashid. You know what they are like. Anything for adventure. Proud, reckless men. He volunteered to go with the Englishman.'
'And have you heard of them since?' Kane said.
Omar smiled faintly. 'Captain Kane, their bones are bleaching in the sun at this moment. It is the only end for those who are foolish enough to venture into the Empty Quarter.'
For a little while Kane sat there, frowning, and then he got to his feet and gave Ruth Cunningham a hand. 'Have you found anything out?' she demanded anxiously.
He nodded. 'Plenty. Your husband was here. He managed to get camels and a Bedouin of the Rashid tribe to
He turned the truck into the wide main street and braked to a halt outside the largest house, scattering a herd of goats.
Kane got down and Ruth Cunningham followed him. 'After we've had our talk with Omar, we'll take a flight over the Shabwa area,' he said to Marie.
She nodded. 'Take care, Gavin, and don't go too far out into the desert. It's bad flying country.' She glanced at her watch. 'Let's see - with any luck, we should be back here just after noon.'
Kane smiled. 'We'll be back by then easily.'
There was a grinding of gears and the truck shot away in a cloud of dust. Kane turned to speak to Ruth Cunningham and found the headman of the village standing outside his door, waiting to welcome them.
'You honour my poor house, Captain Kane,' he said in Arabic.
Kane smiled. 'Always I come when I need something, my friend, but let us go inside. The sun is hot and the events of the past half-hour have given me a great desire to sit down.'
Omar led the way into his windowless, mud-brick home. The house was divided into two rooms. In one were kept the goats and chickens belonging to the family, and the other was the general living room. At night Omar and his family simply lay down in their robes on rush mats and slept.
Despite the obvious poverty of the place, Omar bin Naser had the native courtesy and instinctive dignity of the Arab. He motioned Kane and Ruth Cunningham to two cushions and clapped his hands. Within a few moments, a woman entered the room, wearing a long black outer robe which also closely veiled her face. She carried a brass pot in her left hand and three cups in the other.
After the customary feigned refusals that courtesy demanded, Kane accepted a cup and nodded slightly to Ruth Cunningham who followed suit. The woman poured a few drops into their cup and waited for approval. It was Yemeni mocha - the finest coffee in the world. Kane smiled and held out his cup, which the woman promptly filled.
Omar waved her away and Kane offered him a cigarette, which the headman accepted eagerly. When it was drawing to his satisfaction, he sat back with a sigh and said courteously, 'In what way may I help you?'
Kane nodded to Ruth Cunningham. 'I seek this lady's husband,' he said. 'He came here about two months ago. Can you tell us anything about him?'
Omar's eyes sparked with interest, and he inclined his head to Ruth Cunningham with a pleasant smile and said to Kane, 'Presumably the woman does not understand Arabic?' When Kane nodded, he went on, 'A man did come here some two months ago. He arrived with a convoy of trucks one day. They went on to the camp of the American Jordan, but this man stayed in Bir el Madam.'
'Where did he go from here?' Kane said.
Omar shrugged. 'Who knows? He was mad - quite mad. He wanted to journey from Shabwa to Marib by camel. He needed guides.'
'And did you help him?' Kane said.
Omar nodded. 'The camels I could supply, but the guides were another matter. No one ventures into the Empty Quarter, as you know, unless he is a hunted man with a price on his head.'
'Then he went alone?'
The headman shook his head. 'There was a mad Bedouin passing through here at the time - a Rashid. You know what they are like. Anything for adventure. Proud, reckless men. He volunteered to go with the Englishman.'
'And have you heard of them since?' Kane said.
Omar smiled faintly. 'Captain Kane, their bones are bleaching in the sun at this moment. It is the only end for those who are foolish enough to venture into the Empty Quarter.'
For a little while Kane sat there, frowning, and then he got to his feet and gave Ruth Cunningham a hand. 'Have you found anything out?' she demanded anxiously.
He nodded. 'Plenty. Your husband was here. He managed to get camels and a Bedouin of the Rashid tribe to
Similar Books
