12 THE SECRET OF SAHARA: KUFARA 



there was a well just under my window, charcoal in an 

 outhouse and a large yard beyond where we could have 

 housed camels and horses. As it was, we stored our 

 simple outfit in it, for the evening was dry and fine. We 

 knew from the beginning that we must travel light and 

 that our final success might depend on our capability for 

 riding fast and far. We might have to leave all our 

 luggage by the way and, disguised as Beduin camel- 

 drivers, slip away in the night into the uncharted land 

 where none may follow. 



Thus, besides our sacks of rice, tea and sugar — the 

 two latter intended for gifts to Beduins who helped us 

 on our journey — we had only a single fly tent, eleven feet 

 by eight feet, which could be divided into two by means 

 of a canvas curtain, a waterproof ground-sheet and a 

 couple of beds which rolled into our immensely thick,, 

 wool-lined sleeping sacks, a small army canteen that was 

 so heavy that we had grave doubts as to its eventual fate, 

 a canvas washing basin and a shamadan case complete 

 with vast supply of candles, for I foresaw burning much 

 midnight wax over note-books and maps. We had 

 reduced our provisions to the minimum which would 

 support human life for four months, such as coffee, tins 

 of army rations, slabs of chocolate, tins of cocoa and 

 milk already mixed, bully beef, vegetables to avoid 

 scur\y, and malted milk tablets, but the daily ration was 

 absurdly small, for we trusted to supplement it with dates 

 and rice. 



By the light of Hassanein Bey's electric torch we 

 picked our way back over flat white rock and sand to 

 Sayed Rida's house to dine. This time we found our 

 host accompanied by Sayed Safi ed Din, "the little 

 warrior," as he is called among the tribes. He is a boy 

 with a vivacious, pale face, a charming manner and a 

 ready wit. He is intelligent and, far more than the 



