Books with title The Lamp in the Desert 1919

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Ethel May Dell (1881-1939) was a British writer of popular romance novels who produced about thirty novels and several volumes of short stories. Her stories are often full of passion and love and are set in India and other British colonial possessions. She worked on her first novel, The Way of an Eagle, for several years, until it was finally published in 1911. The public loved it and the book was hugely popular. Her other works include the bestselling Greatheart (1912), The Bars of Iron (1916) and Hundredth Chance (1917). When published in 1912, Greatheart proved enormously popular and its popularity grew over the following years. According to the New York Times it was the bestselling novel in the United States in 1918.

A great roar of British voices pierced the jewelled curtain of the Indian night. A toast with musical honours was being drunk in the sweltering dining-room of the officers' mess. The enthusiastic hubbub spread far, for every door and window was flung wide. Though the season was yet in its infancy, the heat was intense. Markestan had the reputation in the Indian Army for being one of the hottest corners in the Empire in more senses than one, and Kurrumpore, the military centre, had not been chosen for any especial advantages of climate. So few indeed did it possess in the eyes of Europeans that none ever went there save those whom an inexorable fate compelled. The rickety, wooden bungalows scattered about the cantonment were temporary lodgings, not abiding-places. The women of the community, like migratory birds, dwelt in them for barely four months in the year, flitting with the coming of the pitiless heat to Bhulwana, their little paradise in the Hills. But that was a twenty-four hours' journey away, and the men had to be content with an occasional week's leave from the depths of their inferno, unless, as Tommy Denvers put it, they were lucky enough to go sick, in which case their sojourn in paradise was prolonged, much to the delight of the angels.

Having narrowly escaped an evil shaman and supernatural black jaguar deep within the Amazon jungle in Book 3, the fourth book in The Adventures of Archibald and Jockabeb series finds the two brothers on school field trip to California. After the boys are accidently stranded in the middle of the night in a remote part of the Sonoran Desert, they meet a mysterious old man named George Washington Natonto. Accepting the old man’s offer to spend the rest of the night at his underground home at Lizard Flats launches one of the boys’ strangest and most harrowing adventures to date.As a gray-haired Gypsy woman’s tarot card reading, an ancient legend of how a young Indian girl battled a renegade warrior, and several creatures from Jockabeb’s recurring nightmares all begin to converge, the trapped brothers decide it’s high time to escape Lizard flats and start their perilous journey back to civilization. What they next encounter in a subterranean grotto, and later out in the scorching desert, provide a true test of their survival skills and the power of the last bit of Haktu’s blue feather. In addition to learning interesting facts about tarot cards, the history of Southern California, and what lives in the Sonoran Desert, the reader will once again witness the classic battle between good and evil play out as Archibald and Jockabeb continue to mature as young teenagers.

A great roar of British voices pierced the jewelled curtain of the Indian night. A toast with musical honours was being drunk in the sweltering dining-room of the officers' mess. The enthusiastic hubbub spread far, for every door and window was flung wide. Though the season was yet in its infancy, the heat was intense. Markestan had the reputation in the Indian Army for being one of the hottest corners in the Empire in more senses than one, and Kurrumpore, the military centre, had not been chosen for any especial advantages of climate. So few indeed did it possess in the eyes of Europeans that none ever went there save those whom an inexorable fate compelled. The rickety, wooden bungalows scattered about the cantonment were temporary lodgings, not abiding-places. The women of the community, like migratory birds, dwelt in them for barely four months in the year, flitting with the coming of the pitiless heat to Bhulwana, their little paradise in the Hills. But that was a twenty-four hours' journey away, and the men had to be content with an occasional week's leave from the depths of their inferno, unless, as Tommy Denvers put it, they were lucky enough to go sick, in which case their sojourn in paradise was prolonged, much to the delight of the angels.