44 THE SECRET OF SAHARA: KUFARA 



The instant the door shut behind them we literally 

 flung ourselves on the luggage. We wrestled first with 

 the beds and flea-bags, stuffing them into old sacks to 

 look like native bundles. The tent had to be disposed of 

 in the same way — its poles tied up in a red prayer-rug. 

 its canvas disguised in native wrappings. Xot one single 

 bit of European luggage must be visible. My suit-case 

 was already packed and it was but a minute's work to 

 push it into a striped flour sack, but my heart sank when 

 I saw Hassanein's room. It was still littered with what 

 he called necessities. We packed and pushed and tugged 

 at his bundles, getting frantically hot and tired, but 

 always when we had, with superhuman effort, triumph- 

 antly strapped up a biflging roll, a minute later he would 

 remember something he absolutely must put in and 

 want the thing undone. When but half an hour was left 

 before our departure was due, I became desperate and 

 took matters into my own hands. I packed the food 

 into one knapsack. The necessities I divided into two 

 others. I shut his suit-case firmly on the most useful 

 articles I could collect from the chaos. I stood over 

 him equally firmly while he put mackintoshes with fleece 

 linings, rugs and extra native dress into the bedding. I 

 pulled the straps to a tighter hole myself before scurrying 

 off to dress. 



Let no one think it is easy to get into Beduin 

 feminine attire for the first time. The tight white 

 trousers presented difficulties over riding breeches. The 

 red tobh was too tight at the neck. The barracan needed 

 much adjustment. One end flaps loose over the head, 

 which is already swathed in a tight black handkerchief 

 hiding all the hair, while the other is wound twice round 

 in the form of a skirt and comes up over the left shoulder 

 to make the front bit of the bodice. It is all held in 

 place by a thick red wooflen 'hezaam" at least twelve 



