There was almost no end in sight to the Gobi Desert, with a damp air in the early morning air, and a faint morning mist clinging to the ground, moving slowly with the breeze on the dry gravel ground.

Julian, a delicate saddle adorned with tortoiseshell flakes and mother-of-pearl, was now covered with a layer of crystal dew, and Julian reached out and wiped the clear droplets with his fingers, then put them in his mouth and sucked them. The smell of "smack" was obviously completely different from what he had imagined, and the Frenchman turned his face and spat on the sand.

Julie calmed down, wiped his face with his hands, and then lifted the woolen felt cloth covering him and got up.

He twisted his aching and stiff waist, waved his arms a few times, and then turned to look east, and the Frenchman was once again struck by the magnificence of the sight.

He had never seen a sunrise on the desert Gobi before, and every experience always shocked him, at this time the whole east was burning in a fiery red light, the bright red morning sun slowly rose from the horizon, and the golden light pierced the mist, illuminating the entire desert Gobi.

As far as the eye could see, the vast gray-yellow heath began to brighten and become clear, and against the backdrop of the morning sun, Julian could faintly discern a series of low hills on the horizon.

Looking up, the nearby hillside is dotted with shrubs, mostly drought-tolerant plants such as wattles and camel thorns, and the area was once full of olive trees planted by the Romans, but a thousand years later, the prosperity and splendor of that time have been reduced to dust along with the empire. There is no eternal empire in the world, and the ancient ruins that can be seen everywhere in the wasteland are always praising this fact to the world.

The guide, Abdul, had already woken up and was kneeling on the elaborate rugs with his apprentice Basaimu, praying in the direction of the holy Mecca.

"What a devout believer." Julian shook his head disapprovingly, and he turned and bent down to pick up his saddle bag, from which he pulled out his tobacco pack.

The Frenchman walked over to the boiling water, tore a piece of paper from his notebook, and began to roll his first cigarette of the day.

"Good morning, Mr. Julian, may Allah bless you." After finishing his morning class, Abdul returned to the campfire and respectfully greeted his benefactor.

"Good morning and may Allah bless you, Abdul." Julian had finished his cigarette and was using an aluminum lunch box to heat up the rest of last night's coffee.

"We have a long way to go today, and if the road goes well, we can spend the night at the Matatlan Oasis." Abdul made tea with boiling water and set up a clay pot on the fire with the odd taste of multigrain porridge, a staple food for the two Arabic disciples, who seemed to eat hardly anything other than it.

"We're going to have to walk a few days before we can get through this wasteland." Julian wrapped a handkerchief around the hot grip of the lunch box and carefully poured the coffee into his cup.

"It's going to take another five days, there are Italian patrols on the border road, and we can only sneak through them from the path." Abdul stirs the cereal porridge in the jar with a long-handled wooden spoon.

"How about going around from the south?"

"Then you are committing suicide, there is the Sahara Desert, and no one dares to cross that dead place without adequate preparation and the best guides."

"Aren't you a good guide? Abdul. Julian opened his folding knife and began to cut the hard dry bread.

"I'm a good guide, but I'm obviously not good enough if I'm dealing with the Sahara." Abdul stirred the porridge, took out a wooden bowl, sprinkled a little salt into it, and then scooped a full bowl of chowder porridge with a wooden spoon and handed it to the boy who had been waiting for a long time.

"Be careful, it's hot." Abdul patted the boy on the back and said in the local dialect.

"No more sausages? I remember I had some in my backpack. Julian put the bread on the lid of the lunch box and stood up and walked over to the duffel bag stacked next to the sleeping blanket.

"There's something strange about this guy." Basaimu held his wooden bowl, looked at Julian's back, and whispered to his master.

"What did you find?" Abdul touched the boy's head lovingly.

"I can't tell, I always feel weird, I don't like this person at all." After speaking, Basaimu picked up a small wooden spoon, scooped up a mouthful of hot cereal porridge and put it in his mouth.

"Allah will grant you peace, Bassim. I could feel the fear in this man's heart, and I wondered what he was afraid of, perhaps where he got into trouble like his fellow human beings. Don't worry too much about that, Basaimu, we just need to send him to Alam, and the rest will be none of our business. After Abdul finished speaking, he picked up his wooden bowl, filled himself with a bowl of rice porridge, and ate it carefully one bite at a time.

The pair met Julian in the small town of Hamai in the north of ******, when they had just finished their recuperation, and the money they had earned from their last job, except for the part left for the family and the necessary supplies, was running out, and the two had to return to the trade market outside the city to start soliciting business.

The apprentices are Moroccans and are fluent in all the dialects of North Africa, as well as the customs of the various ethnic groups of the land. What's more valuable is that Abdul also learned to write, write, and count, in addition to leading the way, he also practiced a skill of survival in the wild, which is a rare all-round talent in this industry.

He used to work for European explorers, so he can speak some simple French and Italian, so he has always been highly regarded and admired by foreign travelers.

But some time ago there was a war in Europe, and it was said that France was defeated, and the situation in the ****** became a little unstable for a while, and there were rumors that the Italians were preparing to attack the French colonies, ****** a series of towns on the border with Libya, and for a while rumors spread and were alarmed.

In that situation, of course, the source of tourists from Europe was cut off, and Abdul had to start leading the way for some caravans, helping others to smuggle for their daily livelihoods.

It was at this time that Julian appeared to Abdul, claiming to be a traveler from France, this time wanting to experience the wonders of the North African continent, and after a casual conversation with Abdul, he immediately decided to hire the Moroccan-looking guide.

Julian announced that he was going to the Libyan city of Zuwara, but at this time France and Italy were still at war, and he was worried that he would not be able to cross the border, so he asked Abdul what he could do. Abdul immediately said that he knew about some of the trails that crossed the border, but that it might take a little time to cross some of the wasteland Gobi on the way.

As a result, the French agreed to Abdul's plan without saying a word, and at the same time generously paid a deposit for Abdul to purchase all the items needed on the road. Abdul was very experienced and quickly got everything ready. Two days earlier, they had left the city of Hamai with tripled camels and five Arabian horses, carrying needed supplies, and headed for the Libyan border, following the road carved out by smugglers.

Abdul only promised to send Julian across the border to the Libyan village of Alam, and the rest of the journey was much simpler, where he could take an Italian coach to Zuwara for a small fee.

Speaking of which, Abdul had doubts about Julian's identity from the beginning, a Frenchman who claimed to be a professional traveler but had no knowledge of wilderness travel, and he should have read some travel pamphlets, but that was all.

The man's luggage was also noticeably too small, and he didn't have any expedition gear other than a backpack. Even the current lunch box for boiling water was brought by Abdul for him in the market.

At the same time, the man carried a large amount of cash with him, and was very generous, but fortunately Abdul was a devout believer and had no evil intentions, and if it were one of those ****** locals, and he did not hesitate to expose his money, Mr. Julian would probably not survive the first night after his departure, and become a miserable corpse to be eaten by wild animals, just like the reckless travelers of the past.

PS: Today's chapter does not use the full chapter of anti-theft, the author wants to see if it is not anti-theft, will the subscription fall,

If the subscription is still stable, I'll consider stopping the anti-theft measures next month, and the results will depend on the data.

There have always been book lovers in the book review area who are not satisfied with the anti-theft measures, so let me see how much everyone supports genuine subscriptions.

In the end, I still ask for a monthly pass, ask for a recommendation ticket, and the book has fallen out of the hundredth, and the author needs everyone's support and encouragement.

It's the end of the month.,Let's vote for the reserved monthly ticket.,If the results of this month are good.,The author will have more motivation to code words.。 (To be continued.) )