The Tracker And The Desert Wraiths

Delightful tale…

Weekend Stories by Trishikh

Flashing sparks from two clashing flintstones landed on a small mixture of powdered camel dung and dried Babul leaves to spot a steady ember in a ditch dug three feet below the ground level to hide it, for a single flash leave alone a steady fire could be spotted a mile away in such a bland and barren terrain especially in the darkest of twilights.

As the flicker turned into a flame, the man in an all-white attire of a loose-fitting long tunic, a sleeveless cloak and a distinctive headcloth kept in place by heavy woollen coils gently blew into the rising blaze adding pieces of a broken branch in it to create a little bit of light in the heart of a pitch-black and ghostly desert night.

Lighting a fire in the desert could mean life or death. On one hand, a fire meant warmth and the possibility of…

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