from a narrow tributary. He also pointed 

 to two cairns on the top of a black, 

 barren hill to the north. Here was our 

 destination, a branch of Wadi Allaqi 

 called Wadi Umin Qareiyat (The Valley 

 of the Mother of the Village). A short 

 distance inside this wadi was shaft 

 number nine of the deserted Umm Qar- 

 eiyat gold mine. Two of us walked into 

 the drift carefully, looking for vipers 

 in the dust and rubble of the floor and 

 along the ledges. About 20 yards in- 

 side was the shaft, or well. We got a 

 rope and bucket and drew water from a 

 depth of about 90 feet. After sampling 

 the water, we congratulated Abdullah. 

 Then we set to work establishing a base 

 camp — two tents connected by a fly. 



The next few days were spent ex- 

 ploring Wadi Umm Qareiyat and the 

 adjacent parts of Wadi Allaqi. As I 

 was checking the cliffs for signs of ani- 

 mals, I noted the wash of mud several 

 feet high that marked the local flood 

 waters of 1902. We trapped jirds (Meri- 

 ones crassus) and gerbils {Gerbillus gerbil- 

 lus) that were living on the bitter seeds 

 of handal or ground gourd {Colocynthis 

 vulgaris) and senna {Cassia italica), which 

 grew abundantly in this area. Sand 

 foxes (Vulpes ruppellii), which lived in 

 the vicinity, readily entered live traps 

 for the sardine baits, and we eventually 

 caught six. 



Abdullah shared our desire to explore 

 and gave freely of his knowledge of the 

 country. One day he suggested we go 

 northeast about 40 miles to Bir Haimur 

 and visit a Bishari friend of his. Gar 

 el Nabi (Neighbor of the Prophet) who 

 might know the whereabouts of hyenas. 

 A few days later we set out for Bir 

 Haimur via the wadi of the same name. 



Gar el Nabi's camp, typically Bisha- 

 rin, was three low, round, palm-mat 

 shelters that stood on a rise just beyond 

 a canyon where several wadis merged. 

 We stopped at the west side of the can- 

 yon while Abdullah went to the camp 

 to arrange our meeting. At the base 

 of the cliff was an open, shallow, brack- 

 ish well; one of the few watering places 

 for the thousands of market camels and 

 the caravans that pass each year over 

 the ancient road from Sudan. This, 

 I suddenly realized, was the last of the 

 old caravan roads still in use. 



Piles of charred remains of dead cam- 

 els were scattered about the well area. 

 They had been burned, we found out 

 later, because the people believed that 

 the odor of rotting flesh gave the water 

 a bad taste. Before we realized it, cam- 

 el ticks {Hyalomma dromedarii) were climb- 

 ing up our legs and clothing. Hundreds 

 more were crawling out of the gravel 

 and racing toward us. We moved to 

 the shade of the eastern cliffs and got 

 free of them. 



Preparations for the trip to Bir Murra 

 began early the following morning. A 

 barrel was filled from the well. The 

 cook pre-cooked a quantity of rice and 

 beans and the rest of us made a batch 

 of Bedouin bread. Unlevened dough 

 was rolled into thin sheets the size of 

 a plate and baked on a hot piece of 

 sheet iron. Abdullah shared in this 

 operation and was most proficient. Af- 

 ter rolling the dough out thin he kept 

 it on the stick and deftly turned it off 



The camel road between Umm Shilman plain and Bir Haimur 



Gar el Nabi arrived and unlike most 

 Arabs, wasted little time with greetings. 

 He began almost immediately to tell 

 us about hyenas. He said they lived 

 in the Shilman mountains and fed upon 

 the dead camels along the road. He 

 told us that they sometimes came to 

 drink at his well, but right now they 

 were drinking every night at Bir Murra 

 (Bitter Well), 15 miles to the east. He 

 thought that would be the best place 

 to shoot them, and he sounded so con- 

 vincing that we decided to return the 

 next day prepared for a two day hunt- 

 ing trip. Before leaving we gave Gar 

 el Nabi five gallons of fresh water from 

 Bir Umm Qareiyat and a promise of 

 more upon our return. This token se- 

 cured the bonds of friendship and the 

 obligations of business. 



onto the baking iron. About noontime 

 everything was in order. We took our 

 lunch to Bir Haimur and ate in the 

 shade of the cliffs. 



After the heat of the day had passed 

 we left for Bir Murra via the Umm Shil- 

 man plains. The ways in and out of the 

 latter were not easy, we found, even for 

 four-wheel-drive vehicles. For the first 

 seven miles we crawled along in low gear 

 through narrow wadis choked with 

 steeply-sloping piles of sharp, angular 

 rubble. Suddenly, the wadi we had been 

 following opened into the Umm Shil- 

 man plains. When we saw that vast 

 spread of sand strewn with mountains, 

 all thoughts of bad roads were forgotten. 

 We followed camel trails that meandered 

 across that fantastic land, criss-crossed 

 with tracks of gazelles and hyenas. Dead 



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