The Language of Our Ancestors

That very same day, Grandpa climbed onto Muzna and rode off for two hours. When he came back, he had someone with him.

It was a young woman in a cloth hat and a khaki shirt with lots of pockets, and every pocket had something in it: a brush, a magnifying glass, a pencil, a ruler and a bar of chocolate. She wore sunglasses pushed up on top of her head and had a wide smile. Her name was Dr Ruba, an archaeologist who had been working in the ancient pink city for three years.

"Ruba knows more about old stones than I know about camels," said Grandpa.

Dr Ruba laughed. "That's not true, Uncle Awwad. Nobody knows more about anything in this desert than you."

Then she saw the carved stone, and her laughter stopped at once. She knelt in front of it, took out her magnifying glass and stayed silent for many long minutes, nothing moving except her fingers over the carvings.