We went toward them.

They were handsome men, those Eggali, the largest Tuareg whom I ever
have seen. With unexpected swiftness they drew aside from the well,
leaving it to us. Eg-Anteouen spoke a few words to them. They looked
at Morhange and me with a curiosity bordering on fear, but at any
rate, with respect.

I drew several little presents from my saddlebags and was astonished
at the reserve of the chief, who refused them. He seemed afraid even
of my glance.

When they had gone, I expressed my astonishment at this shyness for
which my previous experiences with the tribes of the Sahara had not
prepared me.

"They spoke with respect, even with fear," I said to Eg-Anteouen. "And
yet the tribe of the Eggali is noble. And that of the Kel-Tahats, to
which you tell me you belong, is a slave tribe."

A smile lighted the dark eyes of Eg-Anteouen.

"It is true," he said.

"Well then?"

"I told them that we three, the Captain, you and I, were bound for the
Mountain of the Evil Spirits."