200 THE SECRET OF SAHARA: KUFARA 



obstacles or shadows of such and winning his obvious 

 approval by the tactful way we left the matter of our 

 future travels in his hands. As I regretfully relinquished 

 my third empty glass a slave poured scent over me, 

 strong and sweet, and another offered me a silver incense 

 burner over whose warm perfumed smoke I might dry 

 my scent-drenched hands! In all the generous-hearted 

 East I had never met this last pretty custom before. 



When the due proportion of business for a first visit 

 — a very minute amount it would appear to Americans 

 — had been discussed, we bade farewell to our host and 

 returned to our cool house on the cliff. Since I said 

 this was a day of food, let me add immediately that 

 about midday the delightful wakil appeared with an 

 enormous basin of "couss-couss" about two feet in 

 diameter. On the top of it reposed most of the jaw of 

 a sheep and the whole mass was encircled by a continual 

 line of sausages and a phalanx of hard-boiled eggs. 

 Now, if there is one thing on earth I love it is "couss- 

 couss," but for once I looked at it almost indifferently. 

 Hassanein suggested various desperate remedies, such as 

 instantly walking round the wadi, but I would not be 

 parted from my "couss-couss." I looked at it lovingly 

 and, after a violent argument with Farraj over the 

 possibilities of heating a quart or two of water for a 

 bath, found energy enough to eat a pathetic little hole 

 in one side of the floury mess. 



The climax to our day was at sunset, when we were 

 summoned to another huge banquet at the house of the 

 ever-hospitable Sidi Saleh, who was determined to honour 

 the Sayed's guests by every means in his power. The 

 memory of that last meal is somewhat blurred, but I 

 believe the centre dish was the larger part of a sheep 

 on a mountain of rice, flanked by bowls of hot, very 

 sweet milk. As we waited for our host to join us in 



