that night.
The wind was rising, and storms in the desert are not only
unpleasant, but dangerous. Owen tried to fall asleep in the saddle,
and he almost succeeded in dozing; anyhow, he seemed to wake from
some sort of stupor at the end of the day, just before nightfall,
for he started, and nearly fell, when his dragoman called to him,
telling him they were about to enter the ravine on the borders of
which the caravansary was situated.

The first thing he saw were three palm-trees, yellow trees torn and
broken, and there were two more a little farther on; and there was a
great noise in their crowns when the caravan drew up before the
walls of the caravansary--five palms, the wind turning their crowns
inside out like umbrellas, horrible and black, standing out in livid
lines upon a sky that was altogether black; four; great walls, and
on two sides of the square an open gallery, a shelter for horses; in
the corner rooms without windows, and open doorways. Owen chose one,
and the dragoman spoke of scorpions and vipers; and well he might do
so, for Owen drove a hissing serpent out of his room immediately
afterwards, killing it in the corridor. And then the question was,
could the doorway be barricaded in such a way as to prevent the
intrusion of further visitors?

The wind continued to rise, and he lay rolled in his blanket,
uncomfortable, frightened, listening to the wind raging among the
rocks and palms, and, between his short, starting sleeps, wondering
if it would not have been better to lie in the ravine, in some
crevice, rather than in this verminous and viperous place.

Next day he had an opportunity of contrasting the discomfort of the
caravansary with a bivouac under a rainy sky; for at nightfall,
within two days' journey of Laghouat, the caravan halted in a
desolate valley, shut in between two lines of reddish hills
seemingly as barren as the valley itself. After long searching in
the ravines a little brushwood was collected, and an attempt was made
to light a fire, which

William Babington Maxwell (18661938) was a British novelist. He was a son of novelist Mary Elizabeth Braddon. Though nearly 50 years old at the outbreak of the First World War, he was accepted as a lieutenant in the Royal Fusiliers and served in France until 1917.

Cyrus Townsend Brady (December 20, 1861 January 24, 1920) was a journalist, historian and adventure writer. His most well-known work is Indian Fights and Fighters. He was born in Allegheny, Pennsylvania, and graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1883. He was also a deacon in the Episcopal church. His first wife was Clarissa Guthrie, who died in 1890. His second wife was Mary Barrett.

Rebecca Sophia Clarke (1833-1906), also known as Sophie May, was an American author of childrens fiction. Using her nieces and nephews as inspiration, she wrote realistic stories about children. She wrote 45 books between 1860 and 1903. The most popular being the Little Prudy books. She lived most of her life in her native town of Norridgewock, Maine, where she lived out her life with her sister, who was also a successful author.