At first I didn’t understand what Jumanah meant. Move on?
But Jumanah did her best to explain it, with help from Ajouz and the other mares. They told us that every so often, the humans would pack up everything they had and move to a different oasis with more greenery for the animals and fruit for the humans. Sometimes they would join other parts of their human tribe in the new place, and we animals would mingle together in larger herds until it was time to move on again. And so I began to understand that the time had come to leave the place where I was born.
I was just as surprised by this as I had been by Hasna’s arrival. There had been no reason to think that there were any other oases besides this one, or that we would ever have reason to leave here. But now that it was happening, I was eager to find out more. What would the new oasis be like? Would there be fresh grass for nibbling?
I am ready to leave right now! I told Tawil, frolicking around him in a circle.
He stood and watched me, his ears flopping lazily to either side. I hope it is not a long walk, he said. But more food would be nice, I suppose.
The humans rushed to pack up their encampment before the full heat of the sun arrived. They saddled all of the horses except Tawil and me, along with one of the camels. The remaining camels’ backs were loaded with the dismantled tent and the rest of the humans’ possessions.
Finally it was time to go. The men swung aboard their usual mounts, while Safiya’s grandmother rode Ajouz, one of her aunts rode Jumanah, and a few of the smaller children climbed onto the camel with one of their uncles. Safiya and the rest of the older children went on foot, along with the remaining adults. With help from the dogs, the humans herded the goats and sheep together, and we set out into the desert.
It was all very exciting to me, as new experiences always were. I was near the middle of the caravan, trotting circles around Jumanah. It wasn’t until I saw the gray mare glance back at our oasis that I thought to do the same myself. It already looked strange and empty without the big black tent and the circle of camels lounging beneath the nodding palms. It was odd to think of leaving it, but exciting to wonder what lay ahead.
Soon the oasis was out of sight behind us. Being out in the open, empty desert was new and exhilarating. I couldn’t help kicking up my heels now and then from the sheer thrill of it all.
Settle down, little one, Jumanah told me after a while. You don’t want to wear yourself out.
I’m not tired, I retorted. Come on, Tawil—let’s race to the front of the line!
We took off bucking and playing, dashing past Nasr, who was riding Zahrat at the head of the line. He yelled at us, but we hardly noticed. This was an exciting new adventure, and we could hardly contain ourselves!
The caravan trudged on through the desert, the rest of the animals pacing themselves by the camels’ measured gait. All I could see in every direction was sand rolling off toward the horizon in softly undulating dunes. The sun climbed higher in the clear pale sky, beating down upon us, with neither trees to shade us nor cool springwater to refresh us.
Once our early burst of energy passed, Tawil and I slowed to a walk. He plodded along on one side of Jumanah and I on the other, my dragging feet kicking up little puffs of sand with each step.
When will we reach the new oasis? Tawil complained. I am thirsty!
And I am hungry, I added.
Be patient, little ones, Jumanah told us. We shall arrive when we arrive. Until then, we walk on as long as the humans tell us to do so.
I noted that her neck and flanks were slick with sweat. The sheep and goats dragged along with lowered heads, the humans looked weary, and even the dogs’ tails drooped lower than they had at the beginning of the journey. Only the camels seemed untroubled by the harsh environment and the long walk. They ambled along with their strange, shuffling gait, their fringed eyes always on the horizon.
After a while, we stopped. I looked around hopefully, but there was no water in sight, nor any trees or other signs of an oasis.
“I think I will walk for a bit,” said Safiya’s aunt, who had been riding Jumanah. “This mare is thin from nursing two foals; I’m sure she could use a rest.”
“Indeed.” Nasr glanced toward Tawil and me with a slight frown. “We shall all walk.” Everyone except the small children on the camel dismounted. Then we continued on our way, with most of the humans walking along beside the animals.
I wish we would reach the new oasis soon, Tawil grumbled to me after another hour.
Yes, I agreed.
But Jumanah didn’t join in our complaints, and neither did the other horses. Even the silly sheep seemed content to toil along willingly, stride after stride. And of course the camels never wavered.
If they could do it, I knew that I could as well. I lifted my feet a little higher, step-step-step-step, each hoof picking itself up as another touched down, walking with long strides to match those of the adult horses. Before long I settled into a rhythm, and my muscles began to hum with the exercise. I was still tired, but being tired no longer felt like a bad thing. In fact, it was satisfying to look ahead and see all that sand, the desert just waiting for me to stride along and conquer it with my steady gait.…
For once my mind wasn’t racing faster than I could follow. All my focus was on putting one foot in front of the other, of completing this journey no matter how long and tiring it might turn out to be. Even the heat ceased to be a nuisance; the sweat coating my body felt good.
We finally stopped when the sun was almost touching the western horizon. There was still no sign of an oasis. But the humans had packed dates for us to eat and camel’s milk for us to drink. Tawil and I were able to slake our thirst with some of Jumanah’s milk as well, though she was producing less with each passing day. I was still hungry and thirsty when I finished. But there was nothing to be done about that, as Jumanah was quick to tell me when I complained.
A moment later, Safiya found me. “Don’t worry, Yatimah. The next oasis is my favorite of all. When we arrive there, we’ll all have plenty to eat and drink, and we’ll be reunited with our cousins, and there will be much celebrating,” she whispered. Then she opened her tightly clenched hand, revealing a few dates. “Here—I saved these from my lunch. They’re for you.”
I eagerly gobbled down the extra dates and snuffled at the girl’s hands and face, hoping for more. She giggled and gave me a hug. Then her father called to her, and she had to hurry away to help the other humans.
Soon the camels and the adult horses were hobbled, and the dogs had gathered the sheep and goats into a tight herd near the humans’ campfire. I collapsed wearily onto the warm sand near the rest of the herd. It had been a long, exhausting day, and I was asleep almost instantly.
I was startled awake sometime after dark by the sudden, urgent barking of the dogs. By the time I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding with fear, the men were shouting. Zahrat let out a whinny of terror. There was a thunder of hooves and the cry of unfamiliar human voices.
For a second, I had no idea what was happening. I could only stand there stock-still, every muscle in my body quivering. In the darkness, I saw the other horses rushing around in a panic despite their hobbles.
Then Nasr’s voice rang out, harsh with anger. “To arms!” he shouted. “We are being raided!”