Ben-Hur - A Tale of the Christ #220454

And now there was an end of path or road. More than ever the camel seemed insensibly driven; it lengthened and quickened its pace, its head pointed straight towards the horizon; through the wide nostrils it drank the wind in great draughts. The litter swayed, and rose and fell like a boat in the waves. Dried leaves in occasional beds rustled underfoot. Sometimes a perfume like absinthe sweetened all the air. Lark and chat and rock-swallow leaped to wing, and white partridges ran whistling and clucking out of the way. More rarely a fox or a hyena quickened his gallop, to study the intruders at a safe distance. Off to the right rose the hills of the J ebel, the pearl-gray veil resting upon them changing momentarily into a purple which the sun would make matchless a little later. Over their high est peaks a vulture sailed on broad wings into Widening circles. But of all these things the tenant under the green tent saw nothing, or, at least, made no Sign of recognition. His eyes were fixed and dreamy. The going of the man, like that of the animal, was as one being led.