WAIT-A-BIT THORN 



was on my guard, they gave up the idea, not being 

 sufficiently strong to carry it out. 



I had arranged with the headman of the Maghabul 

 that we should march independently of each other, as 

 they had to allow the cattle to graze, which would 

 have kept me back. But he provided me with two 

 men, who thought they knew the way. Although we 

 were likely to meet again at the Lorian Swamp, I 

 gave him before I left a handsome gift of cloth, silk, 

 " buni," tobacco and perfume, to show my appreciation 

 of his behaviour on the previous day, and he seemed 

 delighted with the present. 



It was not long before Haryel Plains were left, for 

 after passing through several thin belts of bush, we 

 entered once more the familiar wait-a-bit thorn-scrub. 

 Our progress became more and more slow, and it was 

 soon obvious that my two guides had lost their way, and 

 it became a typical case of the blind leading the blind. 

 They had a vague notion of where the Lorian lay, and 

 so had I, so we crept on slowly but patiently towards 

 the west. Six hours passed thus, and then I decided 

 to let the camels have their midday rest here, while 

 some of my men went on in different directions in 

 search of a trail. The thorn-scrub here was covered 

 with leaves ; the camels seemed to appreciate this 

 unusual state of things, and fed with avidity on the 

 young and tender shoots in spite of the hot sun. 

 They would roll their long and horrid-looking tongues 

 round the thick end of a small branch, and then, with a 

 single steady pull, would strip it clean — after which 

 they would chew contentedly for some time before 

 repeating the performance. The thorns did not seem 

 to worry them at all, and not one of them showed 

 signs of having been scratched. 



198 



