We plodded across the blazing sand until we came upon the encampment
of the cruel, crude legionaire, ore V. Dalle. We spotted him leaving
the camps' library where he was involved in some light reading to
improve his somewhat limited mind. (as we know, the Foreign Legion was
disbanded some time ago but Dalle, in his fierce hatred for the
terrible Riff, Buck Lee Arroante, has not yet informed his troop of
the disbanding order, (six Polish lads, two Irishmen and a Harvard Law
student).
The continuing war between these two desert types has proceeded thus
far with no bloodshed but each has forbidden passage to travelers in
their respective sectors of the desert and squeezed between these two
sectors is our goal, the Pertian Temple.
Approaching Dalle, I asked if he would let us pass over his turf but
he stamped his feet and screamed "non". He turned and leaped upon his
horse, his men followed and they rode at top sped across the desert
toward Arrogants' camp, who was also rushing towards Dalle. When they
had closed to within 100 yards of each other, each began hurling loud
obscenities at each other. In about 10 minutes, all rehorsed and
returned. "Voila, zat will 'old heem", cackled Dalle. Echoing across
the desert from the other camp we heard: "aaasss". Receiving the call,
I started on my way toward Arroante certain that he would let us pass.
Orkie