Day Eight Hundred Thirty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Arose thankful for what a time of rest can do. Elijah called for a time of meditation and put off our trek until later in the night. I was thankful for that too.

Come time to leave it was a simultaneous decision without a spoken word between us.

But we had much to say between us along the way. Elijah said we should make it a short hike, confident we would find the landmark well soon. I shared that we should be prepared to defend ourselves.

And so both sayings came to pass.

Within the next hour we discovered the well. And we had to run off a pair of jackals that disputed our presence.

We took turns on watch.

Day Eight Hundred Thirty Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The desert was in sight by trek’s end last night. We knew better than attempt to enter it from this point. Instead we passed the morning looking for the landmark mentioned by Quasimo. A pile of rocks in the shape of a kingly statue.

Our side movement to the northwest proved fruitless, so we reversed direction and finally found the rock structure well to the southeast.

It stood guard where an emerging wadi continued its course into the desert itself, forming an avenue east to follow in the otherwise trackless sand.

We waited by the curious rock pile for the cool of the night to come on. And fortified ourselves with water from a nearby well against our future march.

Day Eight Hundred Twenty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We learned the reason behind Quasimo’s choice of yesterday.

The ‘goat track’ kept on through the expanse, meandering from wadi to wadi. Well out of sight of the road. Though we were still aware of its presence by the rumble from the tanker trucks.

Elijah and I were delighted to pass the heat of the day by a well, situated beside the pastoral path. The water was fresh and sweet to the taste.

In the space of our short time there, we were joined briefly by shepherds stopping to water their flocks.

Quasimo knew one of the shepherds and from their conversation we could tell each was pleased with what the other had to say.

Afterwards, Quasimo took us home.

Day Six Hundred Forty Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Twenty-four hours have passed in our new location. It has proven a very pleasant choice. The Captain found a water well some distance from the caravan trail. It’s on a well worn offshoot from this main route.

The water is a bit brackish, but drinkable. Perhaps traces of minerals are leeching into it.

There was evidence that a group of travelers had passed through here recently. Ashes from cooking fires, and bits of garbage collected in a pit.

Elijah found a nearby cave, or rather an overhang just beyond the well. It is now our place of meditation.

But it has no view southward, so the Captain sticks to the caravan trail. He doesn’t want to chance missing Tomas.

Day Six Hundred Thirty Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Our path took a sudden turn northward near the middle of our nightly trek. I had an intimation that the turn was purposeful and was glad when Tomas reported a well ahead.

From that point we were again on a westward course.

The lights in the sky returned again. This time, however, they were concentrated in the area towards the high mountains. And from that quarter a series of flashes lit up the ground beneath those swarming lights in the sky.

The Captain and Tomas both tell us that a massive attack is going on over there. Against whom or what is the question.

I can only think that the million man army may be the focus of their wrath.

Day Six Hundred Thirty Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

From day to day the heat has been mounting. I do not know if it is a function of going deeper into the desert, or the accumulation of days since Elijah sealed the heavens, commanding this drought.

Tomas located another well, so we have resupplied handsomely. There was a nearby shallow pool whose shrunken border gave clear evidence of the effectiveness of the drought.

At the evening meal (Elijah still abstains), I broached the subject of night travel again. And again the consensus was against me. At least for now.

As to the topic of fasting, I have the desire on my part, but not a clear cut permission to do so.

Grappling with these decisions makes for long nights.

Day Six Hundred Twenty Nine #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The road has disappeared under the sands of a desert. This fact has gone a long way to explain the absence of an army on the march behind us. They must have taken another route.

We stood there briefly to consider our options. The Captain and Tomas volunteered to continue on upon whatever track there might be ahead. Elijah set a time limit for their foray, and at its expiration they were to return here.

Elijah and I found a cooler spot and there turned our attentions to things of the Spirit.

By the time of their return we were all in agreement that our way ahead lay through the desert.

They had found a well on a caravan route.

Day Four Hundred Sixteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The wreckage of the satellite which had been spying us was hauled before the council’s pavilion today. Nothing of much use.

While the leaders were convened I again went about my assigned task.  This time I went by myself.

I’ve become quite familiar with the camp in all aspects, except one – the matter of the water supply. At one end of camp there is a well to which all on this side of the promontory congregate. The rest of the camp is serviced by a spring that comes down from the heights. They keep well back from the resultant stream – to avoid contaminating it.

I followed it westward for some distance where it flows out to the plain. Then returned.

Day Two Hundred Twenty One Late Morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle writes:
I reached the pool in time to see the fountain bubble to life. It must be a natural phenomenon. Its mist hung in the air. Its effect refreshing and invigorating.
Should I make this my daily habit?
Spring up, o well!