William Joseph Harding King, Mysteries of the Libyan Desert (1925)
“ A slight freshness comes into the air. A thin breeze—the dawn wind—springs up from the limitless waste, steals softly whispering over the sands and passes sighing into the distance. The false dawn creeps up into the sky, and then, with a suddenness that is almost startling, the [121] sun springs up above the horizon, the elongated shadows of the long line of camels appear as “purple patches” on the level sand of the desert, like those puzzle writings that have to be looked at edgeways before they can be read, and one realises all of a sudden that another scorching day has dawned at last. ”
