ACROSS THE DESERT WITH SHE-IB 73 



the fanaticism of the Senussi was a very strong spur to 

 the observance of every Moslem duty. 



She-ib and his relations always insisted on helping us 

 to put up the tent. There used to be a regular little 

 fight as to who should hammer in the pegs, much to the 

 delight of the lazy blacks. I remember that night was 

 the most perfect we had yet spent in the desert, windless 

 and calm, with a crescent moon and the strange trans- 

 lucent blue that you sometimes get in the Sahara. 

 JVIournful, monotonous chants came from the friendly 

 encampment beside us and the wide, white desert, un- 

 broken by ridge or dune, spread all round us. 



We had mounted slowly and imperceptibly from the 

 Wadi Farig (empty valley) to a low tableland with 

 occasional ripples running east and west and a few 

 scattered sandhills with square tops. Just before we 

 reached Bir Rassam, the following day, the ripples 

 became accentuated into ridges and the country looked 

 almost volcanic, for a series of high, square hillocks 

 appeared on our right with some sort of rock formation 

 on top. 



We could easily have reached the wells on the evening 

 of the 13th, but our friends had their own settled ideas 

 about camping and nothing would change them. They 

 wanted to spend the heat of the day at Rassam and 

 water at their leisure, so we were wakened at 5 a.m. on 

 the 14th, and were actually away by 6.15. It was a 

 glorious morning, but, as usual, chilly. Hassanein walked 

 with old She-ib, who promptly quoted the Arab proverb, 

 "A man should not sleep on silk till he has walked on 

 sand," but I rolled myself in every available blanket on 

 the back of my jealous camel, who divided his time 

 between biting the rival males and amorous assaults on 

 the females! 



Besides being cold, one had begun to feel extremely 



