VIII 



A KHAMSfN WIND 215 



down into a branch of the main valley and under a 

 rock shelter greatly used by bouquetin. Here we sat 

 till eleven, and lunched. We had hoped the day would 

 get better, but instead of that it got worse and worse, 

 the wind shrieked and howled through the mountains, 

 and the dark, lurid, greenish pall that hung over every- 

 thing was ghostly. The sand flew about with such 

 force one could not face it, and had to make a round 

 to avoid the sand-heaps in the deep wadies. We got 

 back to the camp at one, and found the men had managed 

 to re-pitch the tents, and that on a much better place. 

 There was nothing for it but to cast ourselves on our 

 beds, close the tents, and sleep. Gradually we were 

 buried in the drifting sand, which simply defied 

 expulsion. Towards three o'clock, both Garstin and I 

 awoke with a headache from the close atmosphere, and 

 in spite of the wind went out for a stroll along the foot 

 of the Webed. It certainly is a most tempting hill, the 

 ground exactly suited to ibex, and still neither too high 

 nor too bad in any way to work after a bit of local 

 experience alone. This is absolutely necessary, as a 

 Bedouin is fit for nothing but slavedom, and has as 

 much instinct for venery as a chimpanzee. Our first 

 inquiry on getting back to the tents was for the camels 

 and water, but no sign, and it really was not to be 

 expected that they could face this dreadful storm. 

 The horses were again twenty-four hours without water. 

 Since Monday night, and this is Wednesday afternoon, 

 the poor beasts have drunk once, i.e. Tuesday evening. 

 Towards evening the Khamsin slightly lulled, and the 

 barometer showed signs of rising. We had a miserable 

 dinner, and Garstin made up his mind to go to Suez 

 to-morrow. I did not know what to do, and at first 

 thought I would try one or two days longer ; but on 

 going into minutiae, found we were actually at our last 



