78 THE SECRET OF SAHARA: KUFARA 



camels ran round in circles and upset their loads and a 

 little of our precious water dribbled out of the fanatis. 

 Bir Rassam is the last good well on the way to Aujela. 

 Three long waterless days lay before us and the blacks 

 were horribly careless. We ourselves used only a quart 

 of water each per day. Since we left Wadi Farig our 

 daily ablution consisted merely of washing hands and face 

 every evening in an inch of muddy water ! After a week 

 one got used to never washing, and by the time we 

 reached Aujela we had forgotten even to feel dirty! It 

 became a competition who could use least water and so 

 prepare for the deadly Kufara route with its one well in 

 twelve hard daj^s. 



December 15 provided us with few incidents. We 

 did a dreary seven hours' riding with a cold south wind 

 blowing straight in our faces. We wrapped our jerds 

 and blankets round us and tried to pretend we were not 

 hungry after a lunch of five malted milk tablets. We 

 passed a camp of Mojabras who were resting for an hour 

 at midday while their camels grazed and, as I hid my 

 face in my barracan and urged on my camel, Hassanein 

 went with She-ib and Mohammed to greet them. When 

 he rejoined me twenty minutes later I asked him with 

 primitive fierceness, "Did they give you tea?" before 

 I reahsed to what ridiculous depths hunger drives one! 

 He looked at me with wan blankness. "No luck," he 

 said grimly; "but they asked us to wait for them at 

 sunset." 



The one cheerful moment was when, about 2 p.m., I 

 produced a thermos flask and offered each of She-ib's 

 caravan a mouthful of hot tea. "There is no fire," said 

 the old man. "We cannot stop to make one." It was 

 Hassanein's greatest triumph. I had fought against 

 bringing that huge flash. It was bulky, heavy and, of 

 course, it had no case or strap. It was his pet possession, 



