Suddenly the sun leapt up and flamed upon our faces; we all threw
off our blankets and stood up. Then we took food, and afterwards
started southwards, and in the heat of the day rested, and
afterwards pushed on again. And all the while the desert remained
the same, like a dream that will not cease to trouble a tired
sleeper.

And often travellers passed us in the desert, coming from the City
of Marvel, and there was a light and a glory in their eyes from
having seen Babbulkund.

That evening, at sunset, another traveller neared us, and we hailed
him, saying:

'Wilt thou eat and drink with us, seeing that all men are brothers
in the desert?'

And he descended from his camel and sat by us and said:

'When morning shines on the colossus Neb and Neb speaks, at once the
musicians of King Nehemoth in Babbulkund awake.

'At first their fingers wander over their golden harps, or they
stroke idly their violins. Clearer and clearer the note of each
instrument ascends like larks arising from the dew, till suddenly
they all blend together and a new melody is born. Thus, every
morning, the musicians of King Nehemoth make a new marvel in the
City of Marvel; for these are no common musicians, but masters of
melody, raided by conquest long since, and carried away in ships
from the Isles of Song. And, at the sound of the music, Nehemoth