DAHLAK KEBIR, DESERT IN THE SEA 67 



sea, dead level, with no hint of a hill, a palm or even a blade 



of grass. The sea, a deep still blue, lay there foamless and 



canoeless. Oh! complete and horrible disenchantment! 



* 



'But I swear that that village I saw is over there, behind 

 that rise,' I said. 



'Which rise?' asked Cecco. 



'That thing there, that swelling in the desert.' 



'You call that a rise ?' sneered Gigi. 



'There isn't a village there, honestly there isn't,' said 

 Priscilla, 'but there's one down there on the right.' 



'Well, I stick to the one I saw. Don't you remember we 

 turned to the left after you shot at the gazelle ?' 



'To the left, but then we continued straight,' said Gigi. 



'Straight towards what?' asked Cecco. 



'Towards the Formica. The Formica's over there,' and Gigi 

 pointed across the desert. 



'You're crazy. The Formica's there,' I said pointing in the 

 opposite direction. 



'You don't seem to have much sense of direction, any of 

 you,' put in Cecco wiping the sweat off his face. 'The Formica 

 is tied up at Mersa Nasi, therefore on the west of the island. 

 We have done a complete circle; we started southwards, then 

 we turned east, then north, now we are on the north side . . .' 



'There's only the sea to the north,' said Priscilla. 



We looked towards the presumed north. The stony sandy 

 plain stretched on and on until it was lost to view. And not 

 only towards the presumed north, but towards the presumed 

 east, south and west. We were in the middle of the desert 

 without a map, without a compass, and without water; we 

 had spent a whole day in Dahlak's interior and had finished 

 our water long since. 



'Heavens above,' said Priscilla; and when she swore 



