"By the drought and the wind!" said the palm, invoking the two greatest
enemies of life, "what is the woman carrying on her arm? I believe these
mad people have a little child with them!"

The palm, which was long-sighted, as the aged generally are, saw aright.
The woman carried in her arms a child, that had laid its head on her
breast and was sleeping.

"The child has not even enough clothes on," said the palm. "I see that the
mother has lifted up her skirt and thrown it over it. She has taken it out
of its bed in great haste and hurried away with it. Now I understand:
these people are fugitives.

"But they are mad, all the same," continued the palm. "If they have not an
angel to protect them, they should rather have let their enemies do their
worst than have taken refuge in the desert. I can imagine how it has all
happened. The man is at work, the child sleeps in its cradle, the woman
has gone to fetch water. When she has gone a few steps from the door she
sees the enemy approaching. She rushes in, seizes the child, calls to the
husband that he shall follow her, and runs away. Since then they have
continued their flight the whole day; they have assuredly not rested a
single moment. Yes, so it has all happened; but I say all the same, if no
angel protects them--

"They are in such fear that they do not feel either fatigue or other
sufferings, but I read thirst in their eyes. I think I should know the
face of a thirsty man."

And when the palm began to think about thirst a fit of trembling went
through its high stem, and the innumerable fronds of its long leaves