202 THE SECRET OF SAHARA: KUFARA 



mass of palms, which swept romid the second streak of 

 blue water beside a dry salt marsh and away, ever 

 widening to the far horizon where lay Tolab and Tolelib 

 in a dark blur as the valley ran beyond the strangely 

 luminous hills. 



When we started to stroll down one of the steep 

 defiles that lead from the rocky tableland to the smooth 

 sands below, Sidi Omar's brilliant smile disappeared. 

 "Do not go down alone," he urged. "The Zouias 

 are bad people. Perhaps some of them will ask you 

 questions — why you have come to their country and for 

 what business?" Therefore, we stayed that day on the 

 plateau and I took many photographs beneath the 

 shadow of my heavy draperies. For once I was grateful 

 to the Moslem veil, for Hassanein used tactfully to lure 

 our companions away to look at a view and I would 

 wander shyly and slowly, with the uncertain gait of the 

 harem women, to the desired point of vantage, whip 

 out the 3a kodak from my enormous sleeve and snap 

 some aspect of the enchanted valley before aimlessly 

 straying back. I risked a lightning snapshot at the main 

 block of the zawia while Hassanein greeted a learned 

 sheikh, but I felt it was dangerous, because there were 

 a few students lingering round the door beside the 

 round tower in the wall and they must have seen the 

 flash of the lens between the white folds of my girdled 

 jerd. 



