R.B.R. BARRETO
... the sound reached different notes as if they were producing a concert. They seemed like united voices coming from the depths of the earth.
The caravan with the two strangers followed by Kadir and Hamad left as soon as the sun rose. They had a reasonable meal, gathered their belongings and continued on. Kadir decided to settle on the back of one of his camels. For now he didn't need to worry about the direction in which they were going. He just had to follow the rhythm of the caravan. From up there he could follow the journey better. Examined the map and included more details in the reproduction of the frescoes that Hamad had made for him. He imagined that he could recognize on the map where
they were going and what would follow ahead, but he realized that it was very difficult. There were many markings that he could not understand. They passed by the region where Aisha had disappeared and this brought a tightness to his chest. He noticed that Hamad was also looking in that direction with a downcast, inquiring look.
As the hours passed, the path became more inhospitable. A little after noon, they stopped for their first lunch and settled down near the leafiest dunes to escape the sun. It was lucky to have the men and women of the caravan to help them, cooking and making the journey more enjoyable, although they knew they would not go very far.
—They will leave before we reach the gorge,— Ladslav explained. —They are very far from their own tribe and do not want to take risks. But they will accompany us as far as they can.
—Why don't they want to take risks? What are they afraid of?— Kadir asked almost automatically.
—Of what they don't know, obviously.— Replied the Portuguese man who sat in front of them with tools for shaving and trimming their mustaches. A more trained young man from the tribe was helping him with the razors and scissors.
— Soon we won't even have that — the Russian observed, laughing at the scene.
Kadir took the opportunity to open the map and study it once more.
— You said there's a canyon around here. Is it possible to find it on the map?
— Yes, it's very easy. — Ladslav said, approaching and pulling the Kadir's map towards him.
— Look, prince! Here it is... lend me your crayon.
Hamad also approached with interest while, with some scribbles, the geographer showed the place where they were and where the limestone mountains that formed the canyon would be.
— It seems close — Kadir observed.
— Hmm... not so much. It will take us a day and a half to get there — Ladslav added — if nothing happens.
— I imagine this canyon is the reason our friends left us early? — Kadir asked.
— Yeah, who knows? – mused the Russian – I hope they are just superstitions or fear of finding another, more warlike tribe to protect their territory.
— And you, what do you think, Hamad? – asked Kadir – should we be afraid?
— Always – answered Hamad, a little irritated – only fools are not afraid of anything.
Vladmir Ladslav was right about the distance to the canyon. After walking for a whole day and half of the morning of the next day, they began to see the shadow of the great canyon a few kilometers ahead.
— Is that where we are going? – asked Kadir
— Yes, my young prince. Right there. Where, they say, the winds leave their burrows and split into the four corners of the world. – joked the Russian, noticing the look of astonishment with which the boy scanned the horizon
— They say that in these parts there is a mysterious oasis where the sands sing – revealed Júlio Meirinho – and that giants lived here in ancient times.
— Could it be that we are in front of Káf? – he stammered almost in ecstasy.
— Hmm!!! According to my studies, no. Káf would be further up, to the east, in the lands of ancient Persia. We intend to continue from there, to the lands of the Himalayas. – explained the geographer.
— But it is possible that it is one of the branches of Káf. How can we know? Don't they say that it is a mountain that surrounds the world? – reflected the Portuguese – after all, we are going to pass at the foot of one of them.
Deep down, Kadir felt a little disappointed. He imagined Káf as an enormous mountain that would appear in the middle of an oasis hidden in the sands of the desert. And not elevations that formed canyons, so common that foreigners were able to mark them on their maps.
"No. It is certainly not Káf…" – he muttered to himself.
However, as they approached, they felt that they were entering a different territory, which produced a certain fear and also respect in everyone. The caravan grew silent. Hamad dismounted from his mount and began to walk. He had been in deep silence and attention since he had seen the mountain and the gorge. The others had also been slowing down their steps and chattering as if they didn't want to wake up whatever was sleeping there.
They were very close to reaching the shadow cast by the limestone slopes when they heard a high-pitched, melodious sound that spread in waves with the blowing wind.
— What could that be now?— asked the Portuguese man. —What is that sound that gave me goosebumps?
—It's the singing sands,— explained Hamad as if it were something very common.
—I've heard of it,— added the Russian man. —But it's impressive! It really does give you goosebumps.
The sound was very clear and really did impress. As the wind blew or as they walked on the sand, it reached different notes like a concert. It sounded like united voices coming from the depths of the earth.
As they slowed down to get a better look at what was ahead, they realized that the rest of the Caravan had stopped and stayed behind. Only a few men were still there, to ask for their payment and to say goodbye. They would not go any further.
Although they knew that this would happen sooner or later, the foreigners seemed worried. They tried to convince the men to accompany them a little further, even if it was just a small group, but there was no way. They feared that part of the desert. They believed in the legends that the land of the jhins was ahead and that they dominated the place. They would not risk it.
—Well,— said the geologist as soon as the caravan said goodbye, — it's just us now.
They entered the gorge at the end of the day. The path was winding and quite dark at some bends. The sands still sang in the wind, but now in a more howling and frightening way.
— Wow!! – exclaimed the Russian, breaking the silence – if we were in the Russian steppes, I would say that we are surrounded by hungry wolves.
— But here, if there are no wolves, there are hyenas and jackals – added the Portuguese.
— For now, it is only the sands – assured Hamad – the animals avoid approaching during the day and at night they avoid fire. They prefer dying prey that has no way of defending itself.
— Anyway, said Bailiff, that sound is very scary.
It got dark faster than they expected. Hamad spotted a small cave on one side of the slope and advised them to rest there. They soon settled the animals, lit a fire and set up their tents. Protected from the wind and huddled around the fire, they felt safer and more comfortable.
— How long do you think it will take us in this gorge? — asked Kadir.
— About two days, more or less — replied Ladslav. "Soon after that we will reach the coastal regions, near the Red Sea, from where we will continue to Mecca."
They agreed to take turns during the night. They divided a 2-hour shift for each one while the others slept. Kadir would take the first shift, since the others were early risers and preferred to be ready at the first rays of the sun. Kadir sat outside the huts and wrapped himself in a goatskin blanket. It was cold, night had fallen and those inexplicable noises haunted the air. It looked like of the sound of breathing or muffled voices, things dragging themselves on the ground, the snoring of sleeping companions and the furtive movement of nearby animals. Kadir remembered that he could not let the fire go out. The fire was the best defense they could have against nocturnal animals and other surprises. So he got up and fed the flames with some twigs and dry branches. The flames revived. Great flames rose, throwing sparks into the air. The young man remembered his childhood when he played by following the movement of the sparks that rose very high until they disappeared or merged with the stars. This time they rose in a spiral creating an extraordinary effect that reminded him of a whirling dance. Kadir contemplated the effect, regretting not having Hamad's artistic gifts. In nature there are images that can only be seen once and that, if not recorded, are lost in the memory and dreams. He would later remember it all as a mirage.
In certain circumstances, time takes a long time to pass. The prince had the habit of staying awake at night reading, contemplating or praying. But never with the obligation to stay awake. He felt his eyes grow heavy and went to the coffee container that was already ready. He poured himself a cup, letting the liquid go down with the same slowness as the desert. He wasn't as fond of this drink as Hamad and the Portuguese, but he agreed that it was an important asset in staying awake. He was savoring the second sip when he heard some more strange noises that made him gather all the courage he had. He abandoned the cup and went around the tents carefully, holding a torch and a stick. He saw nothing but the animals resting and the movement of the breeze on the tent canvases. Then everything seemed to quiet down and he could finally sit more carelessly next to the fire and contemplate the dancing flames.
When Ladslav went to take over Kadir's shift, he found him asleep. In a good mood, the geographer tapped the young prince on the shoulder. The young prince jumped up, startled:
— Ah... what's wrong? Who's there?
— Calm down, boy!— the Russian replied with a complacent laugh. —There's no need to wake everyone up. Go and rest. I see sleep has caught up with you just in time.
— Wow! I don't know how I fell asleep like that – the young man apologized, visibly embarrassed – I thought I heard things...
Vladmir examined his surroundings with an air of condescension. The young man was certainly making excuses to explain why he had given in to sleep.
— It's nothing, young man. Go rest. I'll stay here and will continue my travel notes.
Kadir didn't have much to say. He couldn't even explain to himself how he had fallen asleep like that. The last thing he remembered was looking at the flames of the fire and feeling a faint sweet smell in the air that reminded him of the aroma that came from his grandfather Abdul's hookah. He remembered that he had found the aroma strange, but then everything disappeared from his mind.
The rest of the shifts went as planned, without any news. Júlio Meirinho relieved Ladslav at around 3 in the morning and, well before five, Hamad got up and went to join his companion.
—Go rest, Mr. Meirinho. I'll be continuefrom here. I've had enough sleep for two days.
— Good morning, Hamad! We'll go together then. The sun will be rising soon and I don't feel a bit sleepy.
Hamad atood up and approached the fire. Júlio Meirinho was right. The sun would rise soon and the first rays of dawn were already painting the horizon.
— I'm going to make some fresh coffee and bake some bread.
— Ah... great idea!— agreed Meirinho.
Then he got up and went to the Tuareg, watching the rustic and curious process of making the bread. The simple dough of flour and water was kneaded for some time on a wooden board and then laid out in the shape of a disk on a metal plate surrounded by an improvised oven made of sand and coals taken from the fire. The coffee was also being prepared and was beginning to give off its delicious aroma everywhere.
— Soon everyone will be up with this smell,— the Portuguese man commented.
Hamad continued his task almost automatically, while the other looked at the horizon and then at his watch, trying to record the exact moment when the sun would rise. Suddenly the Portuguese man stopped abruptly, rubbed his eyes, looked again and exclaimed:
—Damn it!! What the hell is that?
Hamad stopped what he was doing and looked at to him who was pointing ahead and, at the same time, stepping back with an attitude that mixed terror and curiosity. It took the tuareg a while to make out what the other was seeing. But, as he moved away from the perimeter illuminated by the fire, he managed to see the figures. They looked like figures of people rising from the ground, like ghosts, rising one by one, covered in dust and sand that spread in the wind, making the scene even stranger.
As the vision became clearer, Júlio Meirinho controlled his fear and tried to understand what was happening.
— What could this be, Hamad?— he said in a whispered tone. — I don't believe in zombies, but how do normal people rise from the ground like that? Have they camouflaged themselves and are now trying to attack us?
Hamad was also apprehensive, examining the scene and trying to understand what was in front of him. He gestured for silence and quieted his companion, while he ran to put out the fire. There were about eight people rising from the ground, one by one, silently and in a ghostly way, as if they had spent the night buried in the sand.
—Hmm,— the Tuareg murmured after a while. — They're definitely not zombies. And not going to attack us either. No one would plan an attack like that. They would have already done it during the early hours of the morning. They are dervish pilgrims, for sure. Only they would be capable of the feat of sleeping buried in the sand.
—Dervishes??— exclaimed the journalist, still in disbelief and with a look of astonishment. —What a strange custom, my God!
The sun began to illuminate the horizon and the figures began to take on a clearer outline. A few meters away, Hamad and the Portuguese man watched the group that was now moving to free itself from the excess sand. Some of them sat down and began to play percussion instruments while the others began to dance in a circle to the rhythm produced. The sound of the drums, the smell of coffee and baked bread, along with all that movement, ended up waking Vladmir and Kadir. The young prince left the tent with a curious and still sleepy look. He realized that they were not alone. He observed the group with curiosity, especially because the circle dance reminded him of the steps he had learned from Balam. He also remembered the noises and smells he had noticed the day before before falling asleep.
— Who are those?— he asked as he approached his friends.
—Probably dervishes,— said the Portuguese man. —Our friend Hamad thinks so. As for me, I even thought of zombies, they looked so strange when they rose from the ground. Can you believe they slept buried in the sand?
—Zombies? – Vladmir repeated with a startled laugh – that's all we needed.
— They're dervishes,— Kadir said – perhaps the same group that followed Balam.
Then, on impulse, following his instinct, the young man moved away from his friends and went to the group, sitting very close to them while he waited for them to finish the dance ritual.
Júlio Meirinho still tried to stop him, but Hamad advised:
— Leave him ! He's looking for answers and these men are harmless.
The sun also seemed to rise to the rhythm of the drums. Kadir took advantage of the moment to also say his prayers to Allah. He noticed a strange connection between the odes he repeated and the rhythmic sound of the instruments. He was used to saying his prayers amidst the noises of the tribe, the chatter of men and animals, but he had never felt that these noises were part of the prayer as he did now. When he finished, he realized that the dance had also stopped and that the group was gathering their few things to leave. He then approached one of them and said:
— Salam Aleikum! Good morning, Sir!
— Aleikum Salam, young wanderer – replied the other
— Sir, can you tell me if the wise Balam is among you?
— Balam? Yes, he was with us until last night. But he left. He said he had something important to resolve.
— Until last night?? So he was here, with you? And he left? But where to?
Kadir asked a series of questions, unable to believe that the old master had escaped his sight once again.
— Where could he go alone – he continued – in this endless canyon?
— Hmm, I can't say!! – replied the man – he seemed to be in a hurry. He said he received a call and that someone needed him. Then he left.
— But which way did he go? And what was that call?
— Ahh, young man. If you know him, you know he's not one to give explanations. He just left. – said the dervish, pointing vaguely to the rocky canyons that surrounded the path – He went in there, probably into one of those caves that can lead to different places. He said he'd meet us again, further ahead, on the shores of the great lake.
— What would the "great lake" be? The Red Sea?
— Probably – we're going to Mecca. Are you too?
— Yes, yes – confirmed the prince – but I don't understand. The Red Sea is still far away according to our map. How could he get there sooner? What route did he take?
— Ahh! He didn't say. But there are shorter routes, my boy. Not everything is as you imagine – he added smiling – there are routes that not everyone knows, but they do exist.
Increasingly confused and wanting to know more details about Balam, Kadir invited them to coffee.
Observing the group's movements from afar, Hamad and the foreigners soon understood that they would have company for their first meal. The group was received politely. There were some women among them who volunteered to help bake more bread. The women did not wear burqas or cover their faces.
They had participated in the ritual in the same way as the men, and one of them was carrying one of the percussion instruments. Júlio Meirinho found this very curious, but he didn't dare comment on it. As for Kadir, when they were quiet enough to eat, he turned to the old dervish again.
— I'm curious, sir! Don't your women wear veils?
The old dervish looked at him with a surprised look and then burst out laughing. A loud laugh that caught the attention of the others in the group.
— But they're not 'our' women, my boy!!! We've all just come together to complete a stage on the path. Soon, each one will go their own way. These women fulfill their own destiny. They don't follow anyone.
One of the women approached, smiling, without taking into account any judgment that might be made about her. She didn't give any clue as to whether she had heard the conversation or not, but she offered some incense to the young prince, to Hamad, and his foreign friends.
—Please take this.— It's the only thing we have to offer in exchange for such kindness.
Kadir recognized the same sweet aroma in the incense that he had smelled the day before before falling asleep. It was a mix of musk, cloves and possibly jasmine.
— Hmm,— he said, — it was that aroma that made me relax and fall asleep early last night. I thought it was just my imagination, but it's that same smell. Sweet, relaxing and... intoxicating.
The woman smiled:
—Yes, delicious!! And very useful for giving us a good night's sleep even in very inhospitable conditions.
Vladmir and Júlio also came closer to smell the aroma.
—You people certainly use that to help you stay buried in the sand?— asked Meirinho. —I confess that I was very surprised when I saw you all getting up like that. Covered in dust. As if you were emerging from the bowels of the earth.
—In a way,— the woman added, —we really did emerge from the bowels of the earth.—There is no better or safer crib. Warm and cozy.
— Very curious!! – said Ladslav – and how do you manage to breathe?
— We breathe enough – completed the old dervish already in a farewell tone.
— Sir – said Kadir – before you go, could you tell me a little more about Balam? Why did he leave them during the night after all? I insist, because I have been looking for him for many days and I cannot find him.
— Hmm, young prince. Knowing the trajectory of Balam or any of us is the same as wanting to know which way the wind blows. Almost impossible. We have no clear direction. Most of the time we are alone and not even we know our next destination.
— But Balam knew – insisted the prince – so much so that he left.
— Balam changed course – continued the old man – There was something more important to be done, so he dropped everything and went.
— You said he went through there, into some cave.
— Oh, of course. Why would he go back to go around in circles? The underground paths, for those who know them, are faster and safer.
—And isn't he afraid of the Jhins?— Júlio Meirinho interrupted. —Don't they say that the genies guard these caves because they would give access to their world – the underworld?
The dervish simply looked at him with a complacent smile, but said nothing. Meanwhile, Ladslav, with a frown, unrolled his maps once more. He began to examine them insistently and inquisitively. He checked the region for signs of entrances or caves and after a while he said:
—No, I don't see any!! There is no evidence of any caves in these parts. It is likely that there are small grottos, but caves? There is no record of them around here.
While Kadir questioned the old dervish, Hamad and the two foreigners focused their eyes on the map, trying to locate some marking or any other clue to a shorter route that would take them to the shores of the Red Sea in less than a day. The geographer stroked his beard with the air of someone thinking to himself: what the hell were these routes they were talking about, that were not on their maps, much less in their sights?
Kadir didn't want to know about the maps and insisted on getting any information from the old dervish, even the smallest one, about Balam's fate.
— Master, You said he had received a call and that he needed to help someone. What was that call? How is it possible to receive a call in the middle of this inhospitable canyon? Did a messenger reach him?
— Not that I saw. But he certainly yes. He wouldn't have changed course so quickly if he hadn't been called.
Seeing that Kadir was silent and lowered his face with a sad and discouraged expression, the old man continued.
— Don't be discouraged, young prince! When you least expect it, you'll run into him somewhere. We're always coming and going, and nothing goes unnoticed by those who follow the rhythm of nature. Look... why don't you try sending him a call yourself, huh?
— Me? And how would I do that? I don't know which way he is, and I don't have anyone at my service who I can send as a messenger.
The other shook his head and laughed a lot, as if he couldn't believe the boy's attitude. Then he continued:
— Well... now you have one,— he said, opening his arms in a funny way. — I'm totally available. When I see him again, I'll tell him that you're looking for him.
Kadir thanked him without taking what the other had said seriously. Then he walk to his companions who was examining the map, with the exception of Hamad, who went to exchange a few words with the woman who had helped him distribute the coffee.
—Madam! May Allah be with you! Have you heard of a young gypsy girl who was swallowed by the quicksand, way back there, in the region of the tears of the jhins?
The woman looked at Hamad curiously, with her hand raised to her chin and looking straight into his eyes.
— Swallowed by the sand? A gypsy from the desert? What a horrible fate, tuareg! Are you sure that's really what happened?
The Tuareg shook his head, looking for the best way to explain what had happened.
— We saw her from afar. She was fleeing and there was a storm brewing. She and her horse fell. When we got closer, we found nothing but swirling sand. There was nothing else to be done.
The woman shook her head doubtfully and continued:
— It seems you are not at all sure. She could have been swallowed by quicksand or fallen into a crevasse. Anything is possible in this part of the desert! – then she continued in response to the question – But, in any case..., unfortunally, I have not heard anything about it.
Then she hurried to say goodbye. Part of her group was already some distance away and only she and the old dervish had remained behind. However, before leaving, the latter approached Kadir and touched him lightly on the chest, at the height of his heart.
— Farewell, young prince. And calm your heart. Wait wisely and calmly for the answers that time brings. Do not fight with time. Be at peace! If I find Balam, I'll let him know that you're looking for him.
Watching the group that was leaving and getting further and further away, Júlio Meirinho asked:
— And us? When will we leave?
Hamad was saying that everything was ready and that all we had to do was leave, but he was interrupted by the geographer:
— We'll leave soon, but first – he said as he stood up, rolled up the maps and adjusted his research equipment in a backpack – first I want to look around here. I want to check out this story about caves.