Araari comes back; she seems more relaxed after talking with Sister Berhane.

"The trains to Kolluli are no longer running, now that CMC mining operations have been discontinued. But the tracks still provide a guide."

Zoe sighs. "Then I suppose we shall walk the tracks."

"Zoe, we still have bikes."

"Can we bike on a railroad track?"

"We can bike next to a railroad track. I'm pretty sure."

"I guess, if the vegetation is sparse. Thank the desert for that one thing."

As they leave Mersa Fatma behind, they have well and truly departed from civilization. The desert scrubland in the immediate area is flat. Towering mountains are visible in the far west, but only through thick bands of hot air rising off the baked landscape. Flora consists of grasses, shrubs, and several species of “dragon trees,” squat trees with thick trunks and stiff leaves. They are able to see zebras, gazelles, and wild asses in the distance, largely ignoring them as they pass. The perceptive may also spy leopards hunting these beasts, or packs of hyenas and jackals. Native birds range in size from larks to ostriches.

Their hair becomes damp, clinging to their neck and forehead. They must squint to see through dripping sweat. Flies buzz around their heads.

When they arrive at Kolluli two days later, they are greeted by a collection of curious villagers.

Men and women both wear waist clothes, the women's dyed brown, the men's undyed. Women have bare breasts and wear elaborate necklaces. Some of the women (mostly older) are wearing black headscarves, while others (mostly younger) have hair braided and woven with beads. The men wrap shawls around their torsos and carry staffs.

A dozen children run up to them laughing; Araari and Waletta hear the children talking about the pale ghosts.

Hello children! Araari smiles at them. "The white people traveling with us, or other ghosts?"

"They have FUNNY hair," a child announces. "Why is their hair so flat."

One of the other children tries to pull his hair straight to demonstrate.

Zoe tugs on one of her curls as well. When released it does not spring back into nearly so tight a coil as his.

Hello, children. There are an excessive number of you and Oswald feels a bit exposed by the size of the crowd but it is nice to see people again before the journey to Dallol.

Araari giggles. "I don't know! It's very strange to me, too, but I think they were just born like that." Sorry to everyone in the conversation who does not speak Amharic.

"Why are they so pale? Are they sick?"

"No, they're just from a place with less sun. They do get sick much more easily, though."

"I think they're sick. Like the people from Dallol."

The child's mother shushes her.

He hears Dallol! He knows that word!

"They are from very far away."

A man steps forward and says in Amharic, "Greetings, sisters. Welcome to Kolluli."

She nods and thanks him.

"We offer you our hospitality, but why have you come?" He is clearly deeply confused.

"The white people wanted to see the place where the others went digging, years ago. They are hoping to find something. I do not think they will find anything, but they insisted, and I doubt they would survive the journey alone."

"Ah." The man seems to find this a sufficient explanation of the mysterious ways of white people. "Will you need food and supplies and to rest before the journey?"

"We will, yes."

The tribesman invites them all to stay in one of the clusters of tents, in a domed tent-house built from a branch framework covered by grass mats.