4 THE SECRET OF SAHARA: KUFARA 



venerable Sharuf Basha el Ghariam, who had been the 

 teacher of Sidi Idris and was now his most trusted 

 councillor. His jerd was a sombre brown, and the end 

 of it covered his head over a close-fitting white ma-araka, 

 but his kaftan, with long embroidered sleeves, was vivid 

 rose. He had a kindly, serious face and seemed much 

 more interested in his surroundings than the others. 



I stumbled over my words of formal greeting, ex- 

 pressed in the unaccustomed plural, wondering whether 

 the man who looked so infinitely remote and uninterested 

 would even listen to what I was saying. The brooding 

 eyes softened suddenly and a smile that was veritable 

 light flashed across his face. If graciousness be the token 

 of royalty, then Sidi Idris is cro^^Tied by his smile! For 

 such a look the Beduin prostrates himself to kiss the 

 dust the holy feet have pressed! Thereafter we talked 

 of my journey and he blessed me in his frail voice, 

 smiling still and saying, "May Allah give you your 

 wish!" I tried to tell him of my love of the desert, of 

 how I was happiest when, from a narrow camp bed, I 

 could look at the triangular pat<3h of starlight beyond the 

 flap of my tent. "I, too," he said, "cannot stay more 

 than a month in one place. Then I must move, for I 

 love the scent of the desert." It is true there is a scent 

 in the desert, though there may be no flower or tree or 

 blade of grass within miles. It is the essence of the 

 untrodden, untarnished earth herself! 



We dined gorgeously on lambs roasted whole and 

 stuffed with all sorts of good things — rice, raisins and 

 almonds — and on strange, sticky sweetmeats that I 

 loved and bowls of cinnamon-powdered junket and, 

 best of all, the delicious thick Arab coffee, but the Emir 

 ate Httle and spoke less. The Senussi law forbids 

 drinking and smoking as also the use of gold for 

 personal adornment, so after the meal glasses of sweet 



