CHAPTER XII

RUINS OF KUFRAAfter breakfast every one is warm and contented and ready to work hard. The loading goes on swiftly, diversified at times by the antics of the two or three young and frolicsome camels that seem to get into every caravan. These young fellows resist being loaded and even throw off their loads when the job is apparently all finished. Zerwali and Abdullahi are alert to see that the loading is done with the utmost care and precision. An extra half-hour spent now may save two or three hours’ delay on the road later caused by slipping of the loads or improper distribution of the burdens.When the caravan is all but ready, I have a few words with the guide about the direction of our day’s march. He draws a line on the sand and says that there lies our way. I take a bearing of the line with my compass, a proceeding which doubtless seems to him an absurd if harmless idiosyncrasy of mine. But I like to be able to check with the compass the direction the caravan is taking as the day goes on. On the whole the precaution proves unnecessary, however, for Senussi Bu Hassan goes straight to his mark as a homing pigeon. Only in the middle of the day he sometimes wabbles a bit. In the daytime he travels by his shadow, and, as he explains, “When the sun ishigh and the shadow lies between my feet, then my head goes round.” There is one other hour in the day when the guide’s task is a perplexing one. In the twilight hour between the setting of the sun and the appearance of the stars, all directions on the desert’s vast disk are the same. Then sometimes the compass is useful. Once, by means of the bearing I had taken in the morning, I caught the guide in the hour between sun and stars going almost ninety degrees off the right direction. But as a rule the accuracy with which a good guide, like Senussi Bu Hassan, steers his course is almost uncanny.Our conference over and the last camel loaded, the guide sets out ahead, and one by one the camels follow. The men of the caravan have a last warm-up of hands and feet at the dying fire, thrust their feet into the Bedouin shoes, and hasten after the camels, singing gaily. The sun is getting warm by now, and unless there is a strong wind blowing from the north one disposes quickly of wrappings on ears and neck and finally with thejerd. The extra garments are flung on the backs of the camels, jokes begin to crack, foot-races are run, and everybody is happy to be alive. Gradually the men sort themselves into groups of two and three, spaced at intervals along the caravan, chatting about their own affairs or about things in general. Sometimes I walk at the head of the caravanand again some distance behind it, to keep an eye on the direction it is taking and especially to enjoy the sense of solitude and remoteness.Toward midday, contemplation of the beauties of nature is sometimes disturbed by other and less romantic thoughts. My mind occasionally wanders toward favorite restaurants in far-away civilization. As I stride along I imagine myself in Shepheard’s Grill-Room in Cairo and I ordercrevettes à l’américainewith that subtle variation ofriz à l’orientalewhich is a specialty of the house. Or I am at Prunier’s in Paris orderingmarennes vertes d’Ostende, followed by a steak and asoufflé. Perhaps it is the Cova at Milan and a succulent dish ofrisotto alla Milanese; maybe strawberries Melba at the Ritz in London, or again a Circassian dish of rice with walnut sauce which is the masterpiece of the old and beloved slave who really rules my father’s house in Cairo, occupying the privileged position of a treasured Nannie of long service in an English family.Suddenly Ahmed or Abdullahi comes along and without a word pushes a bag of squashed dates into my palm. Dreams vanish, and I eat with as much appetite as though there were no better fare in all the world.There is no halt for lunch, as the camels eat only twice a day. If we have just left an oasis, there isfresh bread, half a loaf or even a whole one to each man, with dates. Later on that fresh bread becomes hard bread, and still later no bread at all. But there are always dates.I have one camel fitted up with a folded tent over its back so that any one of us may lie and take his ease when tired of walking. Ahmed calls it “the Club.” One day at the lunch hour Abdullahi demands where I am and whether I have had my portion of bread and dates or not, and Ahmed replies, with a twinkling eye in an otherwise grave face, “The bey is lunching at the Club to-day.”It is entirely possible, when you are used to it, to have a good nap on the camel’s back, and an occasional ride is not to be scorned. But generally one walks, for the camel’s pace of two and a half miles an hour is an easy one to keep up with, and riding is often more tiring than going on foot.Sometimes during a whole day’s trek a narrow strip of water lies shimmering on the horizon ahead of the caravan. It never gets any nearer but continues to beckon a cool and pleasant invitation until the sun has rolled round to the west and the mirage vanishes away. It is a purely optical illusion, for there is no water there. Another kind of mirage comes sometimes in the early morning. Then the country far ahead of one appears in the sky at the horizon, as theBedouins say, “upside down.” This is not, as the other variety of mirage is, entirely an illusion. It is really the reversed reflection of the country thirty or forty kilometers ahead of where the observer stands. As the sun rises higher above the horizon, suddenly the mirage vanishes as magically as it came. There are also other tricks of reflection of light in the desert. Sometimes, for instance, a small pebble the size of a cricket-ball seen from a mile away might assume the appearance of a big rock, standing like a landmark. The skeleton or part of the skeleton of a camel or a human being may take on the most fantastic shapes on the horizon, but the Bedouins know it well.A SENUSSI PRINCE AT KUFRAHe is a nephew of Sayed IdrisGOVERNOR OF KUFRAHe is wearing a gold-embroidered robe under desert head-dressIt is absurd to say that the Bedouin is lured by the mirage out of his way and even to his destruction. The seasoned desert traveler knows a mirage when he sees one. It is entirely possible indeed that the “upside down” variety may be a positive assistance, since it can suggest what kind of country lies ahead. The mirage is an interesting phenomenon, but it is not one of the perils of desert travel.In the afternoon there are several hours of heat, the pace of the camels slackens, and the whole caravan becomes quiet and somnolent. As evening comes on and it grows cool again, the camels pick up their speed and go into a final spurt before the time for making camp. The men sing to the camels then tostimulate their efforts, and the beasts respond cheerfully to the encouragement.The songs are simple and poetic, full of the atmosphere of the desert life. One of them represents a Bedouin waiting at an oasis for the expected caravan.He sings to the approaching camels:“Gone is the night;Come are the Marazan? to the morning sky.You are here—And vanished are all our fears.”The singer speaks of his camels:“In companies the sand-dunesMarched to meet them,Pointing the homeward way.”The singer addresses his camels:“The sand-dunes hide many wellsThat brim with waters unfailing.You come to their margins like braceletsWrought of gold and rare gems in far countries.”In another the singer is still addressing his camels:“The wells lie hid in the dunesMasked by the sands drifted over them.You approach them in ones and twos,O you who reveal hidden places.”The last song that I shall set down shows the traditional attitude of the Bedouin to his camel. It is his most precious possession. To give it up without a struggle to the death is dishonor. A Bedouin might wait to take revenge for the killing of a brother or a son, but if his camel were stolen he would not rest until he found it and brought it back, by force of arms if necessary. “He who will not risk his life for his camel,” says the Bedouin, “does not deserve to have it.” So the camel-driver sings to his beast:“For your sakes,O ye who cherish usAs loving mothers their children,For your sakesThe sons of noblesHave lain stark on the sands,Unsheltered by tomb or burial.”The men suit the song to the occasion. The first one that I have translated might be used when an oasis was not far off, the second when the caravan is approaching sand-dune country, the third and fourth when they are nearing a well, and the last when entering a hostile region.At sunset I make it a point to be near the guide and unobtrusively to check him up with my compass in those uncertain hours before the stars come out. When the dark falls a lantern is lighted and given tothe guide. Then we follow that elusive pin-point of yellow in the darkness. It winks a provocative invitation to follow, but we can never reach it. The camels like to have the lantern ahead of them and move briskly forward in pursuit. Twelve or thirteen hours of walking, if conditions have been good, bring us to the end of the day’s trek, though sometimes we cannot go on so long.“Eddar ya ayan; home for you who are weary,” is shouted by the guide and repeated by every man in the caravan. Then the men collect the camels and divide them, the water-camels here, those carrying tents over there, the camels with luggage for the barricade yonder. The camels arebarrakked—kneel with grunts of satisfaction to have their loads removed. Now we must be vigilant, for men tired by a day’s trek are likely to be careless and let boxes with precious instruments or cameras fall with disastrous violence.The baggage is arranged in a barricade, if the night promises to be windy, and the tents are pitched in their triangle, unless the night is particularly calm and pleasant. I could never decide which moment was fuller of satisfaction, that in which the tent was set up after a hard day’s trek or that in which it was pulled down preliminary to taking the road again.Then the fire is built and the leaping flames of thehatabthrow a warm glow over the sand. The first thing is tea. Now I realize to the full the virtues of the dark bitter-sweet liquid that the Bedouins know by that name. They make tea by taking a handful of the leaves and a handful of sugar and boiling them briskly in a pint of water. The result would drive a housewife of the West almost insane, but it is a wonderful stimulant after a hard day’s trek in the desert and a glorious reviver of one’s energies and spirits.ZWAYA CHIEFS AT KUFRAThe men of the caravan are not slow to prepare and eat the evening meal, to feed the camels, and then to dispose themselves for sleep. But I must compare my six watches and wind them, record the photographs made during the day, change the cinema films in the darkness, no mean feat in itself, label and store the geological specimens I have collected, and write up my diaries. The glasses of Bedouin tea which I have drunk help me to accomplish these duties and then probably stimulate me to a walk in the desert. If there is no bitter cold wind I go for perhaps half a mile, looking back from time to time at the silhouette of the caravan against the sky. The dark masses of the tents, the baggage, and the kneeling camels, touched here and there with flickers of light from the dying fire, in the midst of that immense sea of sand, make a picture full of mystery and fascination. Allabout me is silence. There is no wind whispering in the leaves, no murmur of the waters of a brook, such as one hears in the wooded wilds; no slap and plash and swish of waves against the ship’s side such as are always present at sea. Nothing but silence. Silence, the sands, and the stars.CHAPTER XIITHE ROAD TO ZIEGHEN WELLFROM this point I shall set down the days as they are recorded in my diary.Sunday, March 18.Start at 9A.M., halt at 8:30P.M.Make 46 kilometers. Highest temperature 21°, lowest 3°. Cloudy all day, clear in evening. Just a few drops of rain in the afternoon. Strong northeast wind, which develops at 2:30 into a sand-storm. Wind drops at sunset and gets up again at eight in the evening. The sun not visible and the guide’s course not so straight as usual, as shown by the compass bearings which I take often during the day. At 5:30 the sun appears and he corrects his course; at 7:30 he is traveling by the North Star, which the Bedouins call El Jadi. The ground is generally the same as yesterday’s though slightly undulating. At intervals all day we come across patches of big dark-colored pebbles.In the morning there was excitement when we sighted on the horizon the series of hazy dots that meant the approaching vanguard of a caravan. My binoculars were brought into play and passed aroundamong the men. Rifles were unslung from their places on the camels’ backs, and the Tebus ran to get their spears. The men ranged themselves on the side of the caravan nearest the on-comers and held themselves alert until we should find out whether they were friendly or hostile. It did not take long to recognize them for friends. Then men from each party met and squatted down between the two caravans to exchange the news, while the two lines of camels plodded past. Tongues flew as they heard and told who had been married, who was dead, who had made money, what new feuds had arisen, or what old ones had been ended. Then the envoys sprang up, bade each other God-speed, and hastened after their respective caravans. (This is the desert wireless at work.)Monday, March 19.Start at 8:15A.M., halt at 8:30P.M.Make 49 kilometers. Highest temperature 22°, lowest 5°. Weather fine and clear. Strong northeast wind which drops at midday. Few white clouds in the afternoon. Sun is very warm, making our progress slow, but evening is cool and the pace is quickened. Ground very flat, hard sand covered with fine gravel. At six in the evening cross a slight depression, with a patch of gray stone on the right and a white stone on our left about 2 kilometers distant.All of us, men and camels, were getting into our stride. The Bedouins and Tebus indulged in foot-racesand played practical jokes. The Tebus are simple, primitive fellows, with delightfully naïve habits of mind. Being poor, they take the best of care of what possessions they have. They dress in a simple cotton shirt and pair of drawers, and devote much attention to making these garments last as long as possible. When a Tebu rides a camel, for example, he takes off his drawers to save wear and tear, and hangs them on his camel’s back. When he sleeps also he removes his garments to protect them from friction against the sand and wraps himself in his fur cloak.THE LAKE AT KUFRAThe water is salt and fed with salt springs. There are no fish and only a few water hens and ducks. The lake is about two or three square miles in area.While one of the Tebus was riding that day some of the Bedouins took his drawers and hid them. When he alighted and looked for his garment, he immediately feared that it had dropped off and lay somewhere in the desert along our track. Without a moment’s hesitation he set out on the back track, running briskly in search of his precious possession. He had become a tiny figure in the vast expanse of sand before we took pity on him and fired shots to call him to return. He turned reluctantly and soon rejoined us with downcast face. But the merriment of the jokers told him that something was up, and when his drawers were produced he was too pleased to get them back to resent the joke.The previous night some of the camels paid a visit to my tent and threatened to have it down on top of me. They are clever beasts. They like to scratch their necks on the tent-ropes, and when all the camp is asleep they hobble in quest of this innocent form of diversion. First the camel sticks his head through the flap of my tent to see if I am awake. If he does not hear me resent his intrusion, he then knows I am asleep, and out he backs and sets to scratching vigorously. Soon he is joined by others, and I awake under the impression that my tent is being assailed by a violent storm.Each day I was more impressed with Bu Helega as a traveling companion. He was a man of few words, with a big heart and generous spirit. His years and his white hair and beard gained him the respect of all of us, for in the desert the man of experience, who is possessed of the wisdom that comes with age, is the invaluable one. Zerwali and I, therefore, referred continually to Bu Helega’s judgment. He was tactful in offering his suggestions for my consideration, but I was wise enough not to disregard them.He was constantly on the lookout for the well-being of the camels, and his splendid voice was heard at intervals through the day addressing the camels or the men.“The white camel is weary. To-morrow, Ibrahim,we will shift its load to the old brown one,” he says to his slave.“Talk to them, men, talk to them,” he commands, knowing how much better the camels travel under encouragement, and again, “Sing to them, Ibrahim.”“Follow the guide, you beautiful beasts,” he exhorts the camels.“Pray, Hamad, that saddle has shifted; it will irritate the camel’s back.”When the twilight comes he gives the order, “Light the lantern; it pleases the camels.”The qualities of the camel are seldom, if ever, appreciated on a slight acquaintance. The camel is as clever as a horse, if not more clever, and in some ways is more human. “Patient as a camel,” is an Arab saying and a very true one. If you ill-treat a camel he will never forget it, but he will not attack you on the spot. He will wait, and if you repeat the offense again and again, he makes up his mind to get his revenge. Not, however, when there are many people about. Here he behaves in a most human way. He watches his chance until you and he are alone, and then he goes for you, either by snatching at you with his mouth and throwing you to the ground, or by kicking you and then trampling upon you. There is a case known where a camel trampled on a man and then sat on him, refusing to move even after punishmentfrom the men who ran up to the rescue, wanting to make sure that he had finished his man, as, indeed, he had.People imagine that in the desert a camel has to be roped in and led. As a matter of fact, it is very hard in the desert to keep a camel away from the rest of the caravan, for instinctively he knows that to be left behind is death; so he keeps as near the bulk of the caravan as he can. It is a sad sight to see a camel straggling behind a caravan. It is like the soldier in retreat, unable to keep up with his comrades, knowing that nobody can carry him and that to fall behind means disaster.The camel also displays his intelligence when he is taken from the oasis and pushed into the waterless trek. Instinctively he tries at night, even three or four days after the start, to go back to the oasis. There have been a few desert tragedies when all the camels have deserted the men at night, either on the outward or the home-coming journey, when the caravan was still a few days from its destination. Or, in the event of some accident befalling a caravan, camels which have traveled a certain road for ten or fifteen years will complete the journey alone.As we were approaching Jalo and three days’ journey from the camp of the Bedouins from whom I had hired three camels, one of the latter fell desperatelyill. They divided his load between the other two and left him in the desert, I all the time urging the Bedouins to kill him and save him the tortures of death. I even offered to pay them the price of the camel if they would allow me to put an end to him. But as the camel was a pedigreed beast, they refused. They said, “He is only feeling tired; he will go at his leisure back to the camp.” I learned afterward that the camel reached home safely and was feeling much better!EL TAJThe Senussi headquarters at Kufra, which is built on the crest of the hill overlooking the valleyTHE COUNCIL OF KUFRAIt consists of the old Senussi brethrenInstinctively, again, the camel knows that he has a guide, and if you halt in the middle of the desert to debate some point in regard to the route, the camels crowd round the guide; the moment he moves, they follow him, ignoring the presence of every other member of the caravan, but never overtaking the guide. Or if occasionally a camel ignores even the guide and goes right ahead of a caravan, then it is safe for the caravan to follow that camel, for he certainly knows the place that the caravan is coming to. The Bedouins say that a camel who has once grazed in an oasis would find his own way back to that oasis even if he were several days’ journey from it.There is a famous Bedouin story of the sand-grouse and the camel who had a competition. The sand-grouse said, “I could lay my eggs in the desert, travel for days, and come back and hatch them.”The camel retorted, “If my mother drinks from a well when I am still in her womb, I could travel days and come back and drink from the same well.”I myself have seen a camel head the caravan when we were four days from a well, the waters of which he had tasted four years before. There is a well-known case of one camel that saved a caravan which was going from Dakhla Oasis to the Oasis of Ouenat. The guide, who had never been to the place before, but was heading toward it going by the description of another Bedouin, had lost his bearings, and the caravan wandered for twelve days aimlessly. The water was exhausted, and they had lost hope. Suddenly one of the camels headed the caravan, and they followed him. That camel had been to Ouenat a few years before, and when he was two days’ journey from Ouenat he “smelled the place,” as the Bedouins say, and landed the caravan right at one of the wells.In winter the well-trained camel can go for a fortnight without water, in summer up to twelve days. The Bedouins try to feed their camels always on grazing grass if they can, but when they take them to thedaffaor long waterless trek, they are fed on dried dates and, when the Bedouin can afford it, on barley. Most of the camels found in Cyrenaicaarehamlaor pack-camels. The best trotting-camels are Tebus or Touaregs, beautiful white beasts with slim limbs and graceful lines. The average good day’s work of the pack-camel is a distance of twenty-five miles. The thoroughbred Touareg does up to forty, and has been known to do seventy miles at one stretch.The camel can become a very affectionate beast and very devoted to his master. Well-trained trotting-camels orhejinsrefuse to get up with anybody on their back but their own master.As a rule the water is carried on the older and wiser camels, who go sedately with no attempt to frolic. They realize that they are carrying the most valuable asset of the whole caravan, and therefore, the moment the day’s trek is over and we are at the hour of unloading, these older and wiser camels stand apart from the rest for fear the sheepskins they are carrying be bumped. I have also seen camels walk round the camp and approach the sheepskins lying on the ground, arranged and covered for the night; the camels would take great care to walk round them. There was one camel that was trained for a long time to carry my tent and all my books and instruments. He was only chosen for that task because of his being a strong and an old camel. Every morning when the loading started he used to come of his ownaccord andbarraknear my tent and, in his usual supercilious way, wait for the load to be put on his back.The camel is a jealous husband or a faithful wife as the case may be. The female camels will never leave their lord and master and always follow him, while woe betide any adventurous male camel who dares to attempt to “butt in.”Each morning and evening Bu Helega and I rode together and talked about camels and the desert and Bedouin history. I was careful to ask no direct questions, for the Bedouins are suspicious people ready to mistrust your motives. But casual remarks easily bring out interesting comments and information.“There was a time,” said the venerable old man, “when Kufra was unknown to our people. A Bedouin of the Chawazi tribe, from El Obayad, a small oasis near Buttafal Well, noticed a crow which kept flying away to the south and coming back again as regularly as the sun rises. He watched it for some time and then set out to follow its course southward. He finally reached Taiserbo and, after a day’s stop on the outskirts of the oasis, managed to get enough water to take him back. On his return he told his tribe of date-trees and water in the heart of the desert. They formed an expedition which set out for Taiserbo and conquered it, after which they went onto Buzeima, Ribiana, and eventually to Kufra itself. So the Bedouins came to Kufra.”TUAREGS IN KUFRAMen of the tribe rather than the women conceal their faces, and even when they eat they do not remove their veils. This is accomplished by the use of a specially constructed spoon.TWO TUAREGS IN WARRIOR ATTIREI had been casting covetous eyes on Bu Helega’s horse since first I saw it in Jalo. Abdullahi had inquired for me whether it could be bought, but the price was too high. So I affected indifference and bided my time. No one of Bu Helega’s family rode the horse but himself. The old man’s dignity would not permit. But he kindly allowed me to use the animal whenever I wanted to ride. In fact, on this journey it seemed more mine than his.Three of the camels were tired andbarrakked(knelt down) without orders. They do not behave in this way unless there is good reason for it, and so we shifted their loads to let them have a rest. We lost time in the process but made it up when the cool of the evening came.I made it a point to talk with each man in the caravan every day. It kept things running smoothly, and incidentally I picked up some interesting information. I learned on this day that the Bedouins not only knew the tracks of their own camels but can often tell whether camels which have passed belong to men of the same tribe or not. Tebu camels they know at once because of the peculiar shape of their hoofs and the long strides they take. The Tebu camels are hardier than the Bedouin animals and canbe used both in the northern desert of Cyrenaica and to the south in the Sudan. The Bedouins change camels at Kufra, when going north or south.I walked with Senussi Bu Hassan, the guide, and he told me of a trick used by the Bedouins when they are herding camels or sheep. They milk the beasts in the morning and bury the milk in agirbato keep it cool. But desert marauders are clever and can easily find where agirbahas been buried. So the wily Bedouin buries twogirbasone beneath the other. The bottom one is full of fresh milk and the top one of stale. The thief discovers the uppergirbaand looks no further, while the owner of thegirbasfinds his fresh milk safe when he returns at night.We met flocks of small birds winging their way north. Some of them were tired and eagerly accepted the water we offered them. One perched on my hand to drink.Sometimes near a well, one of those that is better described as a water-hole, one sees a few wings, feathers, bones of birds that tell their sad tale. They were probably immigrants who came across the well and stayed for a few days to recuperate. The well had just been dug by a passing caravan, water was easily available, and the birds grew accustomed to the spot. Little by little the sand drifted up and filled the well, and one day there was no more water, justa damp patch of sand. Or perhaps the birds arrived there too exhausted to fly another hundred or two hundred miles in search of water, so they remained and died.In the morning at 10:30 we passed sand-dunes, called El Khweimat, eight or ten kilometers to our left, like small white tents on the desert as their name indicates. At 4:30 we sighted on our left at thirty kilometers the landmark called El Ferayeg, four sand-hills in a row. The name means “the little band” of men. At 6:15 we sighted the top of another landmark known as Mazoul, “the solitary one,” hazy in the distance to the southeast.We were all cheered by the sight of these landmarks, which indicated our progress. We were confident that we had a skilful guide, but, as the Bedouins say, “the good guide is known only at the well.” It is only when one has reached the end of the journey that there is certainty that the right track has been taken. Senussi Bu Hassan demonstrated his remarkably keen eyesight. Very early in the morning before breaking camp he announced that he saw El Khweimat landmark in spite of the morning mist. It was several hours before other eyes in the caravan could make it out.In the afternoon we passed camel skeletons lying white on the sands. Strangely enough this is a cheeringsign in the desert, for two reasons: first, because in the trackless monotony any sign that others have passed that way is encouraging, and, second, because the camel-bones are more frequent near the wells. Camels are more likely to die near the end of a trek, when, if water is scarce, they have been pushed too hard by their masters. The Bedouins do not like to use the word “skeleton” when they find such a reminder that death has come this way. So they euphemistically call itghazal, which means gazelle.Thursday, March 22.Up at 5:30A.M.I watched the sun rise at 6:27A.M.and recorded its time. We started at 8A.M.and made forty-eight kilometers over very flat country, hard sand and gravel. All the morning the Mazoul sand-dunes were on our left twenty-five kilometers distant, but by the afternoon we had passed them.In the morning I heard Zerwali and Abdullahi discussing this land of astounding flatness through which we were passing.“Yes, our country is a blessed one,” said Zerwali.“Yes, indeed, it has a wonderful future,” answered the man from Egypt. “It is here, I believe, that the day of reckoning will be held. It is the only place God could find that would be big enough and so empty.”The Tebus were running far and wide, ahead andeach side of the caravan, in search of camel-dung for fuel. They lived their life a little apart from the others in the caravan, and so they liked to have their own camp-fire at night a short distance from the main camp. Camel-dung was the only available fuel. The Tebus, who are sturdy runners, would go as much as five miles out of their way to find the precious material. But the Bedouins objected to the Tebus’ habit of running ahead and seizing all the dung. It is an inflexible rule of the desert that anything found on the way belongs to him who first touches it, and the Tebus appealed to that rule for justification. The Bedouins, however, had a telling retort.THE CARAVAN ON THE MOVE IN THE DESERT TO AGAH“You have no guide ahead, nor do you let your camels go first, where they will not go without the stick,” they said. “You want us to lead the way for your camels, while you run ahead and seize the dung. That dung belongs to us who would come upon it first if you were back with your camels where you belong.”The controversy grew spirited and was finally brought to me for judgment. I decreed that the Bedouins were right, and the Tebus should have no fire of their own. They should, however, be given a hot meal from the general commissariat every night. The Tebus are quite different in many of their habitsand customs from the Bedouins. They often do not use fire in the preparation of their food, though, as I have shown, they do not reject it for comfort and cheer. They dry the inside of the bark from the top of the date-tree over a fire and powder it, to use as material for a kind of pudding. They mix it with dates and locusts, also powdered. They invite no one to share their meals as the Bedouins invariably do, nor are they resentful if others do not ask them to share their food. The Bedouins criticize vigorously this failure in hospitality, as they consider it. The Tebus leave nothing behind them on the track, having a superstitious fear that whoever picks up what they have dropped will get hold of them too. They are fine physical specimens and good workers, but extremely simple in their habits of life and mind. They are mixing more and more with the Bedouins, however, and learning the Bedouin ways.On this day one of the camels became ill. Bu Helega got down and walked behind it and then bled it from the tail. We hoped it would be better after a night’s rest.As we were sure of our water-supply, we decided to have a glass of tea. Bu Helega, Zerwali, Abdullahi, and I went on ahead of the caravan, taking the guide with us to set our course right. When we were far enough ahead, we quickly made a fire and brewedtea. As the caravan came up, we handed a glass of tea to each man as he passed. The caravan did not stop. When the last camel was past us, we packed up our paraphernalia and hastened to catch up with the plodding caravan, Bu Helega on his camel, Zerwali and Abdullahi riding double on a trotting camel, and I on the horse. I must own Baraka was useful to me for several purposes. With him the camels could be easily brought back from the grazing-ground, which they are reluctant to leave to enter thezeriraagain. I could ride him to visit places of interest when we halted at oases, allowing the camels to rest or graze. I could go ahead of the caravan with him or remain behind to make observations or secure specimens unwatched by the men. On his back I could make a properly dignified appearance at the head of my caravan when entering or leaving an oasis.Friday, March 23.We made 36 kilometers. There was a strong northeast wind the previous night, starting an hour after midnight. This wind continued all day, increasing from 1 to 3, and dropped in the evening. It was fair and clear, but cloudy in the late afternoon. At five in the afternoon we sighted the sand-dunes called El Mazeel, 25 kilometers toward the southeast.The men had become interested in making a full day’s trek, and exerted every effort to be under wayat eight, intending to walk for twelve hours. But the sick camel interfered with our plans. When the time came to start, it had to be lifted to its feet. Bu Helega shook his head and said, “This camel will be flesh to eat before the day is over.” Two hours later the camel knelt and refused to rise. In a few minutes it had to be slaughtered. Three men and two camels were left to bring the flesh after us. Before we had gone far Bu Helega came trotting up on his horse and said: “It is a fat camel. Let us stop for a while.”Knowing the Bedouin’s love of meat, I halted the caravan while a fire was made and a feast prepared. Every one ate the meat but myself and my two Egyptian servants. Bu Helega asked why I did not join the feast, and I told him that I did not care to eat the flesh of a sick camel.“It is better than the little fish,” he said, referring to some tins of sardines which we had with us. “We have seen the camel slaughtered, but who knows what has happened to the little fish since they were in the sea?”The camel’s flesh which was not eaten at once the Bedouins dried, and cut into thin shreds for flavoring their rice andasidalater on. When we started again in the afternoon Senussi Bu Hassan said to me, “We will walk until we knock off the young moon, and then we will be able to lunch at thewell to-morrow.” But when evening came clouds hid El Jadi before the young moon had set, and we had to stop and make camp at 10:30 for fear of losing our way.SONS OF SHEIKH HERRIThesheikhwas one of the kindliest and most hospitable natives encountered by Hassanein Bey south of KufraIn this part of the desert there was little to discover externally, but a great deal to discover in oneself that could only be brought to light in the silence and calm. It makes all the difference in the world whether one goes through the journey with the intention of getting back as quickly as possible to civilization again, or whether one lives and enjoys every moment of it.Just as the sun was going down, I saw Zerwali sitting by himself, drawing lines on the sand with a meditative finger. He was doing theyazerga, or the “science of the sands,” with which the Bedouin tells his own fortune. At intervals his eyes lifted from the pattern before him and brooded dreamily on the vivid colors of the sunset. The Bedouin has an appreciation of beauty and a reverence for nature. How could he help it?Day after day it is exactly the same. The photographs I took in those seven days might be pictures of the same camp from different angles, so persistently the same was the immense desolate expanse of sand unmarked except for a camel’s skeleton or a few pebbles the size of a walnut. There was nothing todistract one’s mind or interrupt one’s contemplation.What a peculiar charm this desolate desert has! What a cleansing effect on one’s mind and body! How this constant touch with infinity, day by day and night by night, affects the mind and the spirit, and alters one’s conception of life!How small and petty one’s efforts in the round of ordinary civilization seem! How insignificant one’s efforts in this desert actually are!Saturday, March 24.We were up at 5:30A.M.tired, for we went to bed at 2. It was fine and clear all day; a northeast breeze in the morning dropped at midday, leaving it very warm. A strong northeast wind got up again at 10P.M.At 9:30A.M.the country began to change slightly; the sand was softer and the ground a little undulating. At 10 we came across patches of black broken stone, which continued all day. At noon we sighted on our right the firsthatab—dried brushwood—of Zieghen Valley. At 1:45 we halted for a hot meal and a rest near the firsthatabwe reached.Our fuel-supply was exhausted the previous day, and we had had nothing hot to eat or drink since the morning of theday before. At 5:13 we sighted sand-dunes to the southeast, about 40 kilometers distant. The dunes ran southward in a line toward Zieghen Valley. At 8:30 the hillocks ofhatabincreased in number and extent.When we started in the morning we hoped to get to Zieghen that day. Later there was disagreementas to why we had not reached it. Bu Helega remarked that the guide must have gone too far to the west or we should have arrived at the well before this. Zerwali, who had selected Bu Hassan for our guide, came to his defense; it was because we lost time slaughtering the camel and feasting the day before that we did not arrive, he said. Hamad had another explanation. “The camels are not being driven at all,” he said. “One sleeps long and gets up at his leisure, and the camels are still in sight.” (It was the custom of the men to drop out of line for a nap of a half an hour or so, the slow pace of the camels and their track in the sand making it possible for them to catch the caravan easily on wakening.)When we halted to make a fire and have the first hot meal in thirty hours, I remembered that this was just where we had lost our way on the previous trip to Kufra in 1921. After our meal, Dawood, Zerwali’s uncle, left us with his single camel to go to Taiserbo, which lay a day’s journey west of Zieghen. He proposed to get his wife and daughter and take them to Cyrenaica, where there were better prospects for business. Zerwali had agreed to help him in his affairs in the new region. It must have taken a lot of pluck for the old man to undertake the long journey to the north with the two women and but asingle camel. I asked him how he would manage it. He told me that the first day they would all walk. The next day, as the weight of water on the camel grew less, his daughter would ride, and the third day his wife.“But suppose something happens to your camel?” I asked.“Protection comes from God,” was his quiet answer. I gave him rice, macaroni, tea, and sugar, and when we had said the “Fat-ha” he departed very happy.The Bedouins were delighted with a great feast of rice and camel-flesh and went to bed in vast contentment. It was a beautiful night, and I left my tent and spent a few tranquil moments under the golden moon and the stars paled by her brighter light. Their serene cheerfulness and encouraging company sent me back to my bed, as always, with new hope and confidence.This is the entry in my diary for the following day:

RUINS OF KUFRA

After breakfast every one is warm and contented and ready to work hard. The loading goes on swiftly, diversified at times by the antics of the two or three young and frolicsome camels that seem to get into every caravan. These young fellows resist being loaded and even throw off their loads when the job is apparently all finished. Zerwali and Abdullahi are alert to see that the loading is done with the utmost care and precision. An extra half-hour spent now may save two or three hours’ delay on the road later caused by slipping of the loads or improper distribution of the burdens.

When the caravan is all but ready, I have a few words with the guide about the direction of our day’s march. He draws a line on the sand and says that there lies our way. I take a bearing of the line with my compass, a proceeding which doubtless seems to him an absurd if harmless idiosyncrasy of mine. But I like to be able to check with the compass the direction the caravan is taking as the day goes on. On the whole the precaution proves unnecessary, however, for Senussi Bu Hassan goes straight to his mark as a homing pigeon. Only in the middle of the day he sometimes wabbles a bit. In the daytime he travels by his shadow, and, as he explains, “When the sun ishigh and the shadow lies between my feet, then my head goes round.” There is one other hour in the day when the guide’s task is a perplexing one. In the twilight hour between the setting of the sun and the appearance of the stars, all directions on the desert’s vast disk are the same. Then sometimes the compass is useful. Once, by means of the bearing I had taken in the morning, I caught the guide in the hour between sun and stars going almost ninety degrees off the right direction. But as a rule the accuracy with which a good guide, like Senussi Bu Hassan, steers his course is almost uncanny.

Our conference over and the last camel loaded, the guide sets out ahead, and one by one the camels follow. The men of the caravan have a last warm-up of hands and feet at the dying fire, thrust their feet into the Bedouin shoes, and hasten after the camels, singing gaily. The sun is getting warm by now, and unless there is a strong wind blowing from the north one disposes quickly of wrappings on ears and neck and finally with thejerd. The extra garments are flung on the backs of the camels, jokes begin to crack, foot-races are run, and everybody is happy to be alive. Gradually the men sort themselves into groups of two and three, spaced at intervals along the caravan, chatting about their own affairs or about things in general. Sometimes I walk at the head of the caravanand again some distance behind it, to keep an eye on the direction it is taking and especially to enjoy the sense of solitude and remoteness.

Toward midday, contemplation of the beauties of nature is sometimes disturbed by other and less romantic thoughts. My mind occasionally wanders toward favorite restaurants in far-away civilization. As I stride along I imagine myself in Shepheard’s Grill-Room in Cairo and I ordercrevettes à l’américainewith that subtle variation ofriz à l’orientalewhich is a specialty of the house. Or I am at Prunier’s in Paris orderingmarennes vertes d’Ostende, followed by a steak and asoufflé. Perhaps it is the Cova at Milan and a succulent dish ofrisotto alla Milanese; maybe strawberries Melba at the Ritz in London, or again a Circassian dish of rice with walnut sauce which is the masterpiece of the old and beloved slave who really rules my father’s house in Cairo, occupying the privileged position of a treasured Nannie of long service in an English family.

Suddenly Ahmed or Abdullahi comes along and without a word pushes a bag of squashed dates into my palm. Dreams vanish, and I eat with as much appetite as though there were no better fare in all the world.

There is no halt for lunch, as the camels eat only twice a day. If we have just left an oasis, there isfresh bread, half a loaf or even a whole one to each man, with dates. Later on that fresh bread becomes hard bread, and still later no bread at all. But there are always dates.

I have one camel fitted up with a folded tent over its back so that any one of us may lie and take his ease when tired of walking. Ahmed calls it “the Club.” One day at the lunch hour Abdullahi demands where I am and whether I have had my portion of bread and dates or not, and Ahmed replies, with a twinkling eye in an otherwise grave face, “The bey is lunching at the Club to-day.”

It is entirely possible, when you are used to it, to have a good nap on the camel’s back, and an occasional ride is not to be scorned. But generally one walks, for the camel’s pace of two and a half miles an hour is an easy one to keep up with, and riding is often more tiring than going on foot.

Sometimes during a whole day’s trek a narrow strip of water lies shimmering on the horizon ahead of the caravan. It never gets any nearer but continues to beckon a cool and pleasant invitation until the sun has rolled round to the west and the mirage vanishes away. It is a purely optical illusion, for there is no water there. Another kind of mirage comes sometimes in the early morning. Then the country far ahead of one appears in the sky at the horizon, as theBedouins say, “upside down.” This is not, as the other variety of mirage is, entirely an illusion. It is really the reversed reflection of the country thirty or forty kilometers ahead of where the observer stands. As the sun rises higher above the horizon, suddenly the mirage vanishes as magically as it came. There are also other tricks of reflection of light in the desert. Sometimes, for instance, a small pebble the size of a cricket-ball seen from a mile away might assume the appearance of a big rock, standing like a landmark. The skeleton or part of the skeleton of a camel or a human being may take on the most fantastic shapes on the horizon, but the Bedouins know it well.

A SENUSSI PRINCE AT KUFRAHe is a nephew of Sayed IdrisGOVERNOR OF KUFRAHe is wearing a gold-embroidered robe under desert head-dress

A SENUSSI PRINCE AT KUFRAHe is a nephew of Sayed Idris

A SENUSSI PRINCE AT KUFRA

He is a nephew of Sayed Idris

GOVERNOR OF KUFRAHe is wearing a gold-embroidered robe under desert head-dress

GOVERNOR OF KUFRA

He is wearing a gold-embroidered robe under desert head-dress

It is absurd to say that the Bedouin is lured by the mirage out of his way and even to his destruction. The seasoned desert traveler knows a mirage when he sees one. It is entirely possible indeed that the “upside down” variety may be a positive assistance, since it can suggest what kind of country lies ahead. The mirage is an interesting phenomenon, but it is not one of the perils of desert travel.

In the afternoon there are several hours of heat, the pace of the camels slackens, and the whole caravan becomes quiet and somnolent. As evening comes on and it grows cool again, the camels pick up their speed and go into a final spurt before the time for making camp. The men sing to the camels then tostimulate their efforts, and the beasts respond cheerfully to the encouragement.

The songs are simple and poetic, full of the atmosphere of the desert life. One of them represents a Bedouin waiting at an oasis for the expected caravan.

He sings to the approaching camels:

“Gone is the night;Come are the Marazan? to the morning sky.You are here—And vanished are all our fears.”

“Gone is the night;

Come are the Marazan? to the morning sky.

You are here—

And vanished are all our fears.”

The singer speaks of his camels:

“In companies the sand-dunesMarched to meet them,Pointing the homeward way.”

“In companies the sand-dunes

Marched to meet them,

Pointing the homeward way.”

The singer addresses his camels:

“The sand-dunes hide many wellsThat brim with waters unfailing.You come to their margins like braceletsWrought of gold and rare gems in far countries.”

“The sand-dunes hide many wells

That brim with waters unfailing.

You come to their margins like bracelets

Wrought of gold and rare gems in far countries.”

In another the singer is still addressing his camels:

“The wells lie hid in the dunesMasked by the sands drifted over them.You approach them in ones and twos,O you who reveal hidden places.”

“The wells lie hid in the dunes

Masked by the sands drifted over them.

You approach them in ones and twos,

O you who reveal hidden places.”

The last song that I shall set down shows the traditional attitude of the Bedouin to his camel. It is his most precious possession. To give it up without a struggle to the death is dishonor. A Bedouin might wait to take revenge for the killing of a brother or a son, but if his camel were stolen he would not rest until he found it and brought it back, by force of arms if necessary. “He who will not risk his life for his camel,” says the Bedouin, “does not deserve to have it.” So the camel-driver sings to his beast:

“For your sakes,O ye who cherish usAs loving mothers their children,For your sakesThe sons of noblesHave lain stark on the sands,Unsheltered by tomb or burial.”

“For your sakes,

O ye who cherish us

As loving mothers their children,

For your sakes

The sons of nobles

Have lain stark on the sands,

Unsheltered by tomb or burial.”

The men suit the song to the occasion. The first one that I have translated might be used when an oasis was not far off, the second when the caravan is approaching sand-dune country, the third and fourth when they are nearing a well, and the last when entering a hostile region.

At sunset I make it a point to be near the guide and unobtrusively to check him up with my compass in those uncertain hours before the stars come out. When the dark falls a lantern is lighted and given tothe guide. Then we follow that elusive pin-point of yellow in the darkness. It winks a provocative invitation to follow, but we can never reach it. The camels like to have the lantern ahead of them and move briskly forward in pursuit. Twelve or thirteen hours of walking, if conditions have been good, bring us to the end of the day’s trek, though sometimes we cannot go on so long.

“Eddar ya ayan; home for you who are weary,” is shouted by the guide and repeated by every man in the caravan. Then the men collect the camels and divide them, the water-camels here, those carrying tents over there, the camels with luggage for the barricade yonder. The camels arebarrakked—kneel with grunts of satisfaction to have their loads removed. Now we must be vigilant, for men tired by a day’s trek are likely to be careless and let boxes with precious instruments or cameras fall with disastrous violence.

The baggage is arranged in a barricade, if the night promises to be windy, and the tents are pitched in their triangle, unless the night is particularly calm and pleasant. I could never decide which moment was fuller of satisfaction, that in which the tent was set up after a hard day’s trek or that in which it was pulled down preliminary to taking the road again.

Then the fire is built and the leaping flames of thehatabthrow a warm glow over the sand. The first thing is tea. Now I realize to the full the virtues of the dark bitter-sweet liquid that the Bedouins know by that name. They make tea by taking a handful of the leaves and a handful of sugar and boiling them briskly in a pint of water. The result would drive a housewife of the West almost insane, but it is a wonderful stimulant after a hard day’s trek in the desert and a glorious reviver of one’s energies and spirits.

ZWAYA CHIEFS AT KUFRA

The men of the caravan are not slow to prepare and eat the evening meal, to feed the camels, and then to dispose themselves for sleep. But I must compare my six watches and wind them, record the photographs made during the day, change the cinema films in the darkness, no mean feat in itself, label and store the geological specimens I have collected, and write up my diaries. The glasses of Bedouin tea which I have drunk help me to accomplish these duties and then probably stimulate me to a walk in the desert. If there is no bitter cold wind I go for perhaps half a mile, looking back from time to time at the silhouette of the caravan against the sky. The dark masses of the tents, the baggage, and the kneeling camels, touched here and there with flickers of light from the dying fire, in the midst of that immense sea of sand, make a picture full of mystery and fascination. Allabout me is silence. There is no wind whispering in the leaves, no murmur of the waters of a brook, such as one hears in the wooded wilds; no slap and plash and swish of waves against the ship’s side such as are always present at sea. Nothing but silence. Silence, the sands, and the stars.

THE ROAD TO ZIEGHEN WELL

FROM this point I shall set down the days as they are recorded in my diary.

Sunday, March 18.Start at 9A.M., halt at 8:30P.M.Make 46 kilometers. Highest temperature 21°, lowest 3°. Cloudy all day, clear in evening. Just a few drops of rain in the afternoon. Strong northeast wind, which develops at 2:30 into a sand-storm. Wind drops at sunset and gets up again at eight in the evening. The sun not visible and the guide’s course not so straight as usual, as shown by the compass bearings which I take often during the day. At 5:30 the sun appears and he corrects his course; at 7:30 he is traveling by the North Star, which the Bedouins call El Jadi. The ground is generally the same as yesterday’s though slightly undulating. At intervals all day we come across patches of big dark-colored pebbles.

In the morning there was excitement when we sighted on the horizon the series of hazy dots that meant the approaching vanguard of a caravan. My binoculars were brought into play and passed aroundamong the men. Rifles were unslung from their places on the camels’ backs, and the Tebus ran to get their spears. The men ranged themselves on the side of the caravan nearest the on-comers and held themselves alert until we should find out whether they were friendly or hostile. It did not take long to recognize them for friends. Then men from each party met and squatted down between the two caravans to exchange the news, while the two lines of camels plodded past. Tongues flew as they heard and told who had been married, who was dead, who had made money, what new feuds had arisen, or what old ones had been ended. Then the envoys sprang up, bade each other God-speed, and hastened after their respective caravans. (This is the desert wireless at work.)

Monday, March 19.Start at 8:15A.M., halt at 8:30P.M.Make 49 kilometers. Highest temperature 22°, lowest 5°. Weather fine and clear. Strong northeast wind which drops at midday. Few white clouds in the afternoon. Sun is very warm, making our progress slow, but evening is cool and the pace is quickened. Ground very flat, hard sand covered with fine gravel. At six in the evening cross a slight depression, with a patch of gray stone on the right and a white stone on our left about 2 kilometers distant.

All of us, men and camels, were getting into our stride. The Bedouins and Tebus indulged in foot-racesand played practical jokes. The Tebus are simple, primitive fellows, with delightfully naïve habits of mind. Being poor, they take the best of care of what possessions they have. They dress in a simple cotton shirt and pair of drawers, and devote much attention to making these garments last as long as possible. When a Tebu rides a camel, for example, he takes off his drawers to save wear and tear, and hangs them on his camel’s back. When he sleeps also he removes his garments to protect them from friction against the sand and wraps himself in his fur cloak.

THE LAKE AT KUFRAThe water is salt and fed with salt springs. There are no fish and only a few water hens and ducks. The lake is about two or three square miles in area.

THE LAKE AT KUFRA

The water is salt and fed with salt springs. There are no fish and only a few water hens and ducks. The lake is about two or three square miles in area.

While one of the Tebus was riding that day some of the Bedouins took his drawers and hid them. When he alighted and looked for his garment, he immediately feared that it had dropped off and lay somewhere in the desert along our track. Without a moment’s hesitation he set out on the back track, running briskly in search of his precious possession. He had become a tiny figure in the vast expanse of sand before we took pity on him and fired shots to call him to return. He turned reluctantly and soon rejoined us with downcast face. But the merriment of the jokers told him that something was up, and when his drawers were produced he was too pleased to get them back to resent the joke.

The previous night some of the camels paid a visit to my tent and threatened to have it down on top of me. They are clever beasts. They like to scratch their necks on the tent-ropes, and when all the camp is asleep they hobble in quest of this innocent form of diversion. First the camel sticks his head through the flap of my tent to see if I am awake. If he does not hear me resent his intrusion, he then knows I am asleep, and out he backs and sets to scratching vigorously. Soon he is joined by others, and I awake under the impression that my tent is being assailed by a violent storm.

Each day I was more impressed with Bu Helega as a traveling companion. He was a man of few words, with a big heart and generous spirit. His years and his white hair and beard gained him the respect of all of us, for in the desert the man of experience, who is possessed of the wisdom that comes with age, is the invaluable one. Zerwali and I, therefore, referred continually to Bu Helega’s judgment. He was tactful in offering his suggestions for my consideration, but I was wise enough not to disregard them.

He was constantly on the lookout for the well-being of the camels, and his splendid voice was heard at intervals through the day addressing the camels or the men.

“The white camel is weary. To-morrow, Ibrahim,we will shift its load to the old brown one,” he says to his slave.

“Talk to them, men, talk to them,” he commands, knowing how much better the camels travel under encouragement, and again, “Sing to them, Ibrahim.”

“Follow the guide, you beautiful beasts,” he exhorts the camels.

“Pray, Hamad, that saddle has shifted; it will irritate the camel’s back.”

When the twilight comes he gives the order, “Light the lantern; it pleases the camels.”

The qualities of the camel are seldom, if ever, appreciated on a slight acquaintance. The camel is as clever as a horse, if not more clever, and in some ways is more human. “Patient as a camel,” is an Arab saying and a very true one. If you ill-treat a camel he will never forget it, but he will not attack you on the spot. He will wait, and if you repeat the offense again and again, he makes up his mind to get his revenge. Not, however, when there are many people about. Here he behaves in a most human way. He watches his chance until you and he are alone, and then he goes for you, either by snatching at you with his mouth and throwing you to the ground, or by kicking you and then trampling upon you. There is a case known where a camel trampled on a man and then sat on him, refusing to move even after punishmentfrom the men who ran up to the rescue, wanting to make sure that he had finished his man, as, indeed, he had.

People imagine that in the desert a camel has to be roped in and led. As a matter of fact, it is very hard in the desert to keep a camel away from the rest of the caravan, for instinctively he knows that to be left behind is death; so he keeps as near the bulk of the caravan as he can. It is a sad sight to see a camel straggling behind a caravan. It is like the soldier in retreat, unable to keep up with his comrades, knowing that nobody can carry him and that to fall behind means disaster.

The camel also displays his intelligence when he is taken from the oasis and pushed into the waterless trek. Instinctively he tries at night, even three or four days after the start, to go back to the oasis. There have been a few desert tragedies when all the camels have deserted the men at night, either on the outward or the home-coming journey, when the caravan was still a few days from its destination. Or, in the event of some accident befalling a caravan, camels which have traveled a certain road for ten or fifteen years will complete the journey alone.

As we were approaching Jalo and three days’ journey from the camp of the Bedouins from whom I had hired three camels, one of the latter fell desperatelyill. They divided his load between the other two and left him in the desert, I all the time urging the Bedouins to kill him and save him the tortures of death. I even offered to pay them the price of the camel if they would allow me to put an end to him. But as the camel was a pedigreed beast, they refused. They said, “He is only feeling tired; he will go at his leisure back to the camp.” I learned afterward that the camel reached home safely and was feeling much better!

EL TAJThe Senussi headquarters at Kufra, which is built on the crest of the hill overlooking the valleyTHE COUNCIL OF KUFRAIt consists of the old Senussi brethren

EL TAJThe Senussi headquarters at Kufra, which is built on the crest of the hill overlooking the valley

EL TAJ

The Senussi headquarters at Kufra, which is built on the crest of the hill overlooking the valley

THE COUNCIL OF KUFRAIt consists of the old Senussi brethren

THE COUNCIL OF KUFRA

It consists of the old Senussi brethren

Instinctively, again, the camel knows that he has a guide, and if you halt in the middle of the desert to debate some point in regard to the route, the camels crowd round the guide; the moment he moves, they follow him, ignoring the presence of every other member of the caravan, but never overtaking the guide. Or if occasionally a camel ignores even the guide and goes right ahead of a caravan, then it is safe for the caravan to follow that camel, for he certainly knows the place that the caravan is coming to. The Bedouins say that a camel who has once grazed in an oasis would find his own way back to that oasis even if he were several days’ journey from it.

There is a famous Bedouin story of the sand-grouse and the camel who had a competition. The sand-grouse said, “I could lay my eggs in the desert, travel for days, and come back and hatch them.”

The camel retorted, “If my mother drinks from a well when I am still in her womb, I could travel days and come back and drink from the same well.”

I myself have seen a camel head the caravan when we were four days from a well, the waters of which he had tasted four years before. There is a well-known case of one camel that saved a caravan which was going from Dakhla Oasis to the Oasis of Ouenat. The guide, who had never been to the place before, but was heading toward it going by the description of another Bedouin, had lost his bearings, and the caravan wandered for twelve days aimlessly. The water was exhausted, and they had lost hope. Suddenly one of the camels headed the caravan, and they followed him. That camel had been to Ouenat a few years before, and when he was two days’ journey from Ouenat he “smelled the place,” as the Bedouins say, and landed the caravan right at one of the wells.

In winter the well-trained camel can go for a fortnight without water, in summer up to twelve days. The Bedouins try to feed their camels always on grazing grass if they can, but when they take them to thedaffaor long waterless trek, they are fed on dried dates and, when the Bedouin can afford it, on barley. Most of the camels found in Cyrenaicaarehamlaor pack-camels. The best trotting-camels are Tebus or Touaregs, beautiful white beasts with slim limbs and graceful lines. The average good day’s work of the pack-camel is a distance of twenty-five miles. The thoroughbred Touareg does up to forty, and has been known to do seventy miles at one stretch.

The camel can become a very affectionate beast and very devoted to his master. Well-trained trotting-camels orhejinsrefuse to get up with anybody on their back but their own master.

As a rule the water is carried on the older and wiser camels, who go sedately with no attempt to frolic. They realize that they are carrying the most valuable asset of the whole caravan, and therefore, the moment the day’s trek is over and we are at the hour of unloading, these older and wiser camels stand apart from the rest for fear the sheepskins they are carrying be bumped. I have also seen camels walk round the camp and approach the sheepskins lying on the ground, arranged and covered for the night; the camels would take great care to walk round them. There was one camel that was trained for a long time to carry my tent and all my books and instruments. He was only chosen for that task because of his being a strong and an old camel. Every morning when the loading started he used to come of his ownaccord andbarraknear my tent and, in his usual supercilious way, wait for the load to be put on his back.

The camel is a jealous husband or a faithful wife as the case may be. The female camels will never leave their lord and master and always follow him, while woe betide any adventurous male camel who dares to attempt to “butt in.”

Each morning and evening Bu Helega and I rode together and talked about camels and the desert and Bedouin history. I was careful to ask no direct questions, for the Bedouins are suspicious people ready to mistrust your motives. But casual remarks easily bring out interesting comments and information.

“There was a time,” said the venerable old man, “when Kufra was unknown to our people. A Bedouin of the Chawazi tribe, from El Obayad, a small oasis near Buttafal Well, noticed a crow which kept flying away to the south and coming back again as regularly as the sun rises. He watched it for some time and then set out to follow its course southward. He finally reached Taiserbo and, after a day’s stop on the outskirts of the oasis, managed to get enough water to take him back. On his return he told his tribe of date-trees and water in the heart of the desert. They formed an expedition which set out for Taiserbo and conquered it, after which they went onto Buzeima, Ribiana, and eventually to Kufra itself. So the Bedouins came to Kufra.”

TUAREGS IN KUFRAMen of the tribe rather than the women conceal their faces, and even when they eat they do not remove their veils. This is accomplished by the use of a specially constructed spoon.TWO TUAREGS IN WARRIOR ATTIRE

TUAREGS IN KUFRAMen of the tribe rather than the women conceal their faces, and even when they eat they do not remove their veils. This is accomplished by the use of a specially constructed spoon.

TUAREGS IN KUFRA

Men of the tribe rather than the women conceal their faces, and even when they eat they do not remove their veils. This is accomplished by the use of a specially constructed spoon.

TWO TUAREGS IN WARRIOR ATTIRE

I had been casting covetous eyes on Bu Helega’s horse since first I saw it in Jalo. Abdullahi had inquired for me whether it could be bought, but the price was too high. So I affected indifference and bided my time. No one of Bu Helega’s family rode the horse but himself. The old man’s dignity would not permit. But he kindly allowed me to use the animal whenever I wanted to ride. In fact, on this journey it seemed more mine than his.

Three of the camels were tired andbarrakked(knelt down) without orders. They do not behave in this way unless there is good reason for it, and so we shifted their loads to let them have a rest. We lost time in the process but made it up when the cool of the evening came.

I made it a point to talk with each man in the caravan every day. It kept things running smoothly, and incidentally I picked up some interesting information. I learned on this day that the Bedouins not only knew the tracks of their own camels but can often tell whether camels which have passed belong to men of the same tribe or not. Tebu camels they know at once because of the peculiar shape of their hoofs and the long strides they take. The Tebu camels are hardier than the Bedouin animals and canbe used both in the northern desert of Cyrenaica and to the south in the Sudan. The Bedouins change camels at Kufra, when going north or south.

I walked with Senussi Bu Hassan, the guide, and he told me of a trick used by the Bedouins when they are herding camels or sheep. They milk the beasts in the morning and bury the milk in agirbato keep it cool. But desert marauders are clever and can easily find where agirbahas been buried. So the wily Bedouin buries twogirbasone beneath the other. The bottom one is full of fresh milk and the top one of stale. The thief discovers the uppergirbaand looks no further, while the owner of thegirbasfinds his fresh milk safe when he returns at night.

We met flocks of small birds winging their way north. Some of them were tired and eagerly accepted the water we offered them. One perched on my hand to drink.

Sometimes near a well, one of those that is better described as a water-hole, one sees a few wings, feathers, bones of birds that tell their sad tale. They were probably immigrants who came across the well and stayed for a few days to recuperate. The well had just been dug by a passing caravan, water was easily available, and the birds grew accustomed to the spot. Little by little the sand drifted up and filled the well, and one day there was no more water, justa damp patch of sand. Or perhaps the birds arrived there too exhausted to fly another hundred or two hundred miles in search of water, so they remained and died.

In the morning at 10:30 we passed sand-dunes, called El Khweimat, eight or ten kilometers to our left, like small white tents on the desert as their name indicates. At 4:30 we sighted on our left at thirty kilometers the landmark called El Ferayeg, four sand-hills in a row. The name means “the little band” of men. At 6:15 we sighted the top of another landmark known as Mazoul, “the solitary one,” hazy in the distance to the southeast.

We were all cheered by the sight of these landmarks, which indicated our progress. We were confident that we had a skilful guide, but, as the Bedouins say, “the good guide is known only at the well.” It is only when one has reached the end of the journey that there is certainty that the right track has been taken. Senussi Bu Hassan demonstrated his remarkably keen eyesight. Very early in the morning before breaking camp he announced that he saw El Khweimat landmark in spite of the morning mist. It was several hours before other eyes in the caravan could make it out.

In the afternoon we passed camel skeletons lying white on the sands. Strangely enough this is a cheeringsign in the desert, for two reasons: first, because in the trackless monotony any sign that others have passed that way is encouraging, and, second, because the camel-bones are more frequent near the wells. Camels are more likely to die near the end of a trek, when, if water is scarce, they have been pushed too hard by their masters. The Bedouins do not like to use the word “skeleton” when they find such a reminder that death has come this way. So they euphemistically call itghazal, which means gazelle.

Thursday, March 22.Up at 5:30A.M.I watched the sun rise at 6:27A.M.and recorded its time. We started at 8A.M.and made forty-eight kilometers over very flat country, hard sand and gravel. All the morning the Mazoul sand-dunes were on our left twenty-five kilometers distant, but by the afternoon we had passed them.

In the morning I heard Zerwali and Abdullahi discussing this land of astounding flatness through which we were passing.

“Yes, our country is a blessed one,” said Zerwali.

“Yes, indeed, it has a wonderful future,” answered the man from Egypt. “It is here, I believe, that the day of reckoning will be held. It is the only place God could find that would be big enough and so empty.”

The Tebus were running far and wide, ahead andeach side of the caravan, in search of camel-dung for fuel. They lived their life a little apart from the others in the caravan, and so they liked to have their own camp-fire at night a short distance from the main camp. Camel-dung was the only available fuel. The Tebus, who are sturdy runners, would go as much as five miles out of their way to find the precious material. But the Bedouins objected to the Tebus’ habit of running ahead and seizing all the dung. It is an inflexible rule of the desert that anything found on the way belongs to him who first touches it, and the Tebus appealed to that rule for justification. The Bedouins, however, had a telling retort.

THE CARAVAN ON THE MOVE IN THE DESERT TO AGAH

“You have no guide ahead, nor do you let your camels go first, where they will not go without the stick,” they said. “You want us to lead the way for your camels, while you run ahead and seize the dung. That dung belongs to us who would come upon it first if you were back with your camels where you belong.”

The controversy grew spirited and was finally brought to me for judgment. I decreed that the Bedouins were right, and the Tebus should have no fire of their own. They should, however, be given a hot meal from the general commissariat every night. The Tebus are quite different in many of their habitsand customs from the Bedouins. They often do not use fire in the preparation of their food, though, as I have shown, they do not reject it for comfort and cheer. They dry the inside of the bark from the top of the date-tree over a fire and powder it, to use as material for a kind of pudding. They mix it with dates and locusts, also powdered. They invite no one to share their meals as the Bedouins invariably do, nor are they resentful if others do not ask them to share their food. The Bedouins criticize vigorously this failure in hospitality, as they consider it. The Tebus leave nothing behind them on the track, having a superstitious fear that whoever picks up what they have dropped will get hold of them too. They are fine physical specimens and good workers, but extremely simple in their habits of life and mind. They are mixing more and more with the Bedouins, however, and learning the Bedouin ways.

On this day one of the camels became ill. Bu Helega got down and walked behind it and then bled it from the tail. We hoped it would be better after a night’s rest.

As we were sure of our water-supply, we decided to have a glass of tea. Bu Helega, Zerwali, Abdullahi, and I went on ahead of the caravan, taking the guide with us to set our course right. When we were far enough ahead, we quickly made a fire and brewedtea. As the caravan came up, we handed a glass of tea to each man as he passed. The caravan did not stop. When the last camel was past us, we packed up our paraphernalia and hastened to catch up with the plodding caravan, Bu Helega on his camel, Zerwali and Abdullahi riding double on a trotting camel, and I on the horse. I must own Baraka was useful to me for several purposes. With him the camels could be easily brought back from the grazing-ground, which they are reluctant to leave to enter thezeriraagain. I could ride him to visit places of interest when we halted at oases, allowing the camels to rest or graze. I could go ahead of the caravan with him or remain behind to make observations or secure specimens unwatched by the men. On his back I could make a properly dignified appearance at the head of my caravan when entering or leaving an oasis.

Friday, March 23.We made 36 kilometers. There was a strong northeast wind the previous night, starting an hour after midnight. This wind continued all day, increasing from 1 to 3, and dropped in the evening. It was fair and clear, but cloudy in the late afternoon. At five in the afternoon we sighted the sand-dunes called El Mazeel, 25 kilometers toward the southeast.

The men had become interested in making a full day’s trek, and exerted every effort to be under wayat eight, intending to walk for twelve hours. But the sick camel interfered with our plans. When the time came to start, it had to be lifted to its feet. Bu Helega shook his head and said, “This camel will be flesh to eat before the day is over.” Two hours later the camel knelt and refused to rise. In a few minutes it had to be slaughtered. Three men and two camels were left to bring the flesh after us. Before we had gone far Bu Helega came trotting up on his horse and said: “It is a fat camel. Let us stop for a while.”

Knowing the Bedouin’s love of meat, I halted the caravan while a fire was made and a feast prepared. Every one ate the meat but myself and my two Egyptian servants. Bu Helega asked why I did not join the feast, and I told him that I did not care to eat the flesh of a sick camel.

“It is better than the little fish,” he said, referring to some tins of sardines which we had with us. “We have seen the camel slaughtered, but who knows what has happened to the little fish since they were in the sea?”

The camel’s flesh which was not eaten at once the Bedouins dried, and cut into thin shreds for flavoring their rice andasidalater on. When we started again in the afternoon Senussi Bu Hassan said to me, “We will walk until we knock off the young moon, and then we will be able to lunch at thewell to-morrow.” But when evening came clouds hid El Jadi before the young moon had set, and we had to stop and make camp at 10:30 for fear of losing our way.

SONS OF SHEIKH HERRIThesheikhwas one of the kindliest and most hospitable natives encountered by Hassanein Bey south of Kufra

SONS OF SHEIKH HERRI

Thesheikhwas one of the kindliest and most hospitable natives encountered by Hassanein Bey south of Kufra

In this part of the desert there was little to discover externally, but a great deal to discover in oneself that could only be brought to light in the silence and calm. It makes all the difference in the world whether one goes through the journey with the intention of getting back as quickly as possible to civilization again, or whether one lives and enjoys every moment of it.

Just as the sun was going down, I saw Zerwali sitting by himself, drawing lines on the sand with a meditative finger. He was doing theyazerga, or the “science of the sands,” with which the Bedouin tells his own fortune. At intervals his eyes lifted from the pattern before him and brooded dreamily on the vivid colors of the sunset. The Bedouin has an appreciation of beauty and a reverence for nature. How could he help it?

Day after day it is exactly the same. The photographs I took in those seven days might be pictures of the same camp from different angles, so persistently the same was the immense desolate expanse of sand unmarked except for a camel’s skeleton or a few pebbles the size of a walnut. There was nothing todistract one’s mind or interrupt one’s contemplation.

What a peculiar charm this desolate desert has! What a cleansing effect on one’s mind and body! How this constant touch with infinity, day by day and night by night, affects the mind and the spirit, and alters one’s conception of life!

How small and petty one’s efforts in the round of ordinary civilization seem! How insignificant one’s efforts in this desert actually are!

Saturday, March 24.We were up at 5:30A.M.tired, for we went to bed at 2. It was fine and clear all day; a northeast breeze in the morning dropped at midday, leaving it very warm. A strong northeast wind got up again at 10P.M.At 9:30A.M.the country began to change slightly; the sand was softer and the ground a little undulating. At 10 we came across patches of black broken stone, which continued all day. At noon we sighted on our right the firsthatab—dried brushwood—of Zieghen Valley. At 1:45 we halted for a hot meal and a rest near the firsthatabwe reached.Our fuel-supply was exhausted the previous day, and we had had nothing hot to eat or drink since the morning of theday before. At 5:13 we sighted sand-dunes to the southeast, about 40 kilometers distant. The dunes ran southward in a line toward Zieghen Valley. At 8:30 the hillocks ofhatabincreased in number and extent.

At 9:30A.M.the country began to change slightly; the sand was softer and the ground a little undulating. At 10 we came across patches of black broken stone, which continued all day. At noon we sighted on our right the firsthatab—dried brushwood—of Zieghen Valley. At 1:45 we halted for a hot meal and a rest near the firsthatabwe reached.

Our fuel-supply was exhausted the previous day, and we had had nothing hot to eat or drink since the morning of theday before. At 5:13 we sighted sand-dunes to the southeast, about 40 kilometers distant. The dunes ran southward in a line toward Zieghen Valley. At 8:30 the hillocks ofhatabincreased in number and extent.

When we started in the morning we hoped to get to Zieghen that day. Later there was disagreementas to why we had not reached it. Bu Helega remarked that the guide must have gone too far to the west or we should have arrived at the well before this. Zerwali, who had selected Bu Hassan for our guide, came to his defense; it was because we lost time slaughtering the camel and feasting the day before that we did not arrive, he said. Hamad had another explanation. “The camels are not being driven at all,” he said. “One sleeps long and gets up at his leisure, and the camels are still in sight.” (It was the custom of the men to drop out of line for a nap of a half an hour or so, the slow pace of the camels and their track in the sand making it possible for them to catch the caravan easily on wakening.)

When we halted to make a fire and have the first hot meal in thirty hours, I remembered that this was just where we had lost our way on the previous trip to Kufra in 1921. After our meal, Dawood, Zerwali’s uncle, left us with his single camel to go to Taiserbo, which lay a day’s journey west of Zieghen. He proposed to get his wife and daughter and take them to Cyrenaica, where there were better prospects for business. Zerwali had agreed to help him in his affairs in the new region. It must have taken a lot of pluck for the old man to undertake the long journey to the north with the two women and but asingle camel. I asked him how he would manage it. He told me that the first day they would all walk. The next day, as the weight of water on the camel grew less, his daughter would ride, and the third day his wife.

“But suppose something happens to your camel?” I asked.

“Protection comes from God,” was his quiet answer. I gave him rice, macaroni, tea, and sugar, and when we had said the “Fat-ha” he departed very happy.

The Bedouins were delighted with a great feast of rice and camel-flesh and went to bed in vast contentment. It was a beautiful night, and I left my tent and spent a few tranquil moments under the golden moon and the stars paled by her brighter light. Their serene cheerfulness and encouraging company sent me back to my bed, as always, with new hope and confidence.

This is the entry in my diary for the following day:

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