On the following day, the first clear sign of danger appeared. Three armed tribesmen approached, and asked what the boy and the alchemist were doing there. "I'm hunting with my falcon," the alchemist answered.
"We're going to have to search you to see whether you're armed," one of the tribesmen said.
The alchemist dismounted slowly, and the boy did the same.
"Why are you carrying money?" asked the tribesman, when he had searched the boy's bag.
"I need it to get to the Pyramids," he said.
The tribesman who was searching the alchemist's found a small crystal filled with a liquid, and a yellow glass egg that was slightly larger than a chicken's egg.
"What are these things?" he asked.
"That's the Philosopher's Stone and the of Life. It's the Master Work of the alchemists. Whoever swallows that elixir will never be sick again, and a fragment from that stone turns any metal into gold."
The Arabs laughed at him, and the alchemist laughed along. They thought his answer was amusing, and they allowed the boy and the alchemist to proceed with all of their belongings.
"Are you crazy?" the boy asked the alchemist, when they had moved on. "What did you do that for?"
"To show you one of life's simple lessons," the alchemist answered. "When you possess great treasures within you, and try to tell others of them, seldom are you believed."
They continued across the desert. With every day that passed, the boy's heart became more and more silent. It no longer wanted to know about things of the past or future; it was content simply to the desert, and to drink with the boy from the Soul of the World. The boy and his heart had become friends, and neither was capable now of betraying the other.
When his heart to him, it was to provide a to the boy, and to give him strength, because the days of silence there in the desert were wearisome. His heart told the boy what his strongest qualities were: his courage in having given up his sheep and in trying to live out his destiny, and his enthusiasm during the time he had worked at the crystal shop.
And his heart told him something else that the boy had never noticed: it told the boy of dangers that had threatened him, but that he had never perceived. His heart said that one time it had hidden the rifle the boy had taken from his father, because of the possibility that the boy might wound himself. And it reminded the boy of the day when he had been ill and out in the fields, after which he had fallen into a deep sleep. There had been two thieves farther ahead who were planning to steal the boy's sheep and murder him. But, since the boy hadn't passed by, they had to move on, thinking that he had changed his route.
"Does a man's heart always help him?" the boy asked the alchemist.
"Mostly just the hearts of those who are trying to realize their destinies. But they do help children, drunkards, and the elderly, too."
"Does that mean that I'll never run into danger?"
"It means only that the heart does what it can," the alchemist said.
 
 
 One afternoon, they passed by the encampment of one of the tribes. At each corner of the camp were Arabs in beautiful white robes, with arms at the ready. The men were smoking their hookahs and trading stories from the battlefield. No one paid any attention to the two travelers.
"There's no danger," the boy said, when they had moved on past the encampment.
The alchemist sounded angry: "Trust in your heart, but never forget that you're in the desert. When men are at............