And when the third night came forth from the divine halls of her home
dowered like her sisters, again King Nehemoth dreamed. And he saw a
bird all black go by again, beneath whom Babbulkund darkened, and then
a white bird and Babbulkund shone; and after them came no more,
and Babbulkund passed away. And the golden day appeared, dispelling
dreams, and still the abominations were silent, and the King's
prophets answered not to portend the omen of the dream. One prophet
only spake before the King, saying: 'The sable birds, O King, are the
nights, and the white birds are the days,...' This thing the King had
feared, and he arose and smote the prophet with his sword, whose soul
went crying away and had to do no more with nights and days.

'It was last night that the King dreamed his third dream, and this
morning we fled away from Babbulkund. A great heat lies over it, and
the orchids of the jungle droop their heads. All night long the women
in the hareem of the North have wailed horribly for their hills. A
fear hath fallen upon the city, and a boding. Twice hath Nehemoth gone
to worship Annolith, and all the people have prostrated themselves
before Voth. Thrice the horologers have looked into the great crystal
globe wherein are foretold all happenings to be, and thrice the globe
was blank. Yea, though they went a fourth time yet was no vision
revealed; and the people's voice is hushed in Babbulkund.'

Soon the travellers arose and pushed on northwards again, leaving us
wondering. Through the heat of the day we rested as well as we might,
but the air was motionless and sultry and the camels ill at ease. The
Arabs said that it boded a desert storm, and that a great wind would
arise full of sand. So we arose in the afternoon, and travelled
swiftly, hoping to come to shelter before the storm. And the air
burned in the stillness between the baked desert and the glaring sky.