How different the concept of the arabesque was from western notions of art, he thought. He remembered the museums his father had shown him in Europe, where they stopped during their trip to Arabia. Western artists made pictures that were pallid representations of nature, he thought contemptuously. They were fascinated by the human figure, as if man was the measure of all things and God was some giant ape in the sky!

The arabesque was infinitely more profound, he thought. The arabesque was more than an abstract design. It was a complex pattern of geometric shapes which reflected not nature as it is perceived by man, but its underlying crystalline pattern. The arabesque is repetitive, symmetrical and yet it has a rhythm which draws the eye ever onward to infinity, for no arabesque pattern ever truly ends. The arabesque is an intuitive expression of the infinite, which is God’s nature.

When the storm finally died away, they dug themselves out of the sand and stumbled into the sunlight, rubbing their eyes in disbelief. The wind had changed the patterns in the sand, moved the dunes hundreds of paces and obliterated any tracks. There were no landmarks to guide them to the well, which was probably filled with sand anyway. The camels needed water badly and they had barely enough for themselves. They spent three days in a futile search for the well.

After the third day, Youssef’s camel died and they doubled up on Nick’s thelul. They gave up searching for the well and struck out towards the east, hoping to find Buraida. The heat was relentless, even for these young Bedu. Their throats grew parched and their lips began to crack and blister. Nick’s tongue began to swell and a foul taste never left his mouth. He tried to swallow but it was impossible. He had no more saliva left.

Seven days after the sandstorm, Nick’s camel collapsed and died. The once splendid mugathir lay on her side, her legs rigid, her mouth caked with dried green slime. She had carried the two youths until the last cell in her body had been depleted of its moisture. Towards the end they had tried every trick to keep her going, even pouring handfuls of precious water from their last goat skin into her nostrils. She had been a good thelul, Nick thought. Only the best theluls went on till they dropped. But with her death, their last hope had died as well. Now they were lost in a vast rocky slope without a landmark to the end of the horizon. The slope was strewn with black stones worn smooth by the wind as far as could be seen. The two young men looked at each other for a brief moment, seeing the hopelessness reflected in each other’s eyes.

“Inshallah, it is the will of Allah,” Youssef shrugged.