Ali’s heart pounded like a drum.įinally, blinded by the needle-sharp sand, he brought Jabad to a halt and commanded him to kneel. It swallowed the sun, and the herd-and his father.Īli jerked up the hood of his djellaba and kicked hard at Jabad’s sides. Ali heard his father’s voice calling, “Ali! Come here! Stay close behind me!” Then he heard nothing but the whirling sand. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the wind came howling like a pack of wild dogs. But he had not spoken of the heat, his thirst, his sore rump. It seemed to Ali that he had been sitting atop his camel for When they sold the camels, they would have money to buy cloth, a copper kettle, sugar for their tea, new knives and gold coins and hard candy.įor now, though, there was only the slow, steady sway of Jabad over the rippling dunes. But this year, at last, he could show his father that he was ready tobe a man.Īli rode at the rear of the herd, his father at the head. Until now, Ali had been too young to go on the yearly journey to the market. Three days’ ride ahead lay the Moroccan market town of Rissani, at the edge of the Great Sahara. Var s = document.createElement("script"), el = document.getElementsByTagName("script") s.async = true Var query = $.trim($("#headerSearchQ").val()) if (query.length = 0) ) $("#headerSearchForm").on("submit", function(event) Encuentra aquí información de Ali, child of the desert Jonathan London para tu escuela ¡Entra ya! | Rincón del Vago
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