ON A WATERLESS WAY 145 



over the horizon. I took some bearings for fear of mirage 

 and ordered an early start next morning in spite of wild 

 protestations and appeals. 



As a matter of fact, everyone was so tired that we did 

 not get off till 7.30. The camels groaned plaintively 

 and continuously, refusing to rise from their knees. I 

 had insisted on filling girbas enough for a four days' 

 march, though Abdullah said it was only two, and with 

 no saddles it was difficult to balance the packs on rolled 

 blankets and canvas. All that day was a weary succession 

 of changing loads. When one camel sank wearily down 

 and refused to move, we dragged off his load and placed 

 it on another. No one rode, however blistered were his 

 feet. Some of the blacks had raw toe joints, but we dared 

 not risk the camels further. After about three hours we 

 left the little mounds and sparse sticks of the "hatia" 

 and the unbroken sands lay in great flat waves before us. 

 We stopped at the last moment to pick the brittle wood 

 for our evenings fires, and then marched on steadily till 

 6 P.M. 



The "gara" of Buseima appeared suddenly at 12.30. 

 It looked like a solid, black ridge on the horizon, but we 

 knew it was more than a day's journey away. The 

 camels wandered and lagged and stumbled. I doubt if 

 we did more than 2 miles an hour. In the afternoon 

 the sand waves developed into hard dunes, low and 

 round-backed. We could no longer make straight for 

 the black mark in the distance, but had to swerve east- 

 ward to avoid the higher dunes. About four I thought 

 the camels could not go another step. Several of them 

 lay down at the same time, but somehow we got them 

 to their feet again, chieflj^ by dint of song! The 

 reiterated refrains of the Sudanese had a great effect on 

 the weary beasts, but never had the barraking cry 

 "Adaryayan!" "We have arrived at the house, oh sick 



