Without warning, the camel died on him. Unexpectedly, the beast grunted and collapsed. It made one last, unavailing effort to rise, before falling, lifeless, into permanent silence. Jones cursed and kicked the beast’s corpse in frustration. The nearest oasis was still a week’s ride away to the north — a good fifteen or sixteen days for a traveller on foot, even if the khamsin did not whip up a blinding sandstorm such as he had struggled through three days previously. Jones unhitched the pack and performed a careful inventory of its contents; a slab of dried beef, raisins and dates, … Continue reading Not a Drop To Drink