He turned his face West and trotted towards the Tombs. He could not help looking out very hard for any sign of his friends， though the setting sun shone in his face so that he could see hardly anything. “And anyway，” he thought， “of course they‘ll be round on the far side of the farthest Tomb， not this side where anyone might see them from the city.”
There were about twelve Tombs， each with a low arched doorway that opened into absolute blackness. They were dotted about in no kind of order， so that it took a long time， going round this one and going round that one， before you could be sure that you had looked round every side of every tomb. This was what Shasta had to do. There was nobody there.
It was very quiet here out on the edge of the desert； and now the sun had really set.
