252 THE SECRET OF SAHARA: KUFARA 



sense of peace had descended on us. For the first time 

 in three months we were a completely friendly party, 

 united to achieve a common object by dint of hard work 

 and endurance. It was a wonderful feeling! Everybody 

 was happy and nobody shirked. Even the plump Yusuf 

 forgot his plaintive whine, and with a fat smile gathered 

 hattab and urged on the camels. Unfortunately, our 

 great grey Tebu beast was suffering badly from his 

 first heavy date meal, just as the rest of the caravan 

 had done at Buttafal a month previously. At the last 

 moment, however, Sidi Mohammed el-Jeddawi, seeing 

 that the necessary dates for fodder took up three 

 complete loads, lent us one of Sayed Rida's foaling 

 nagas. We had no baggage saddle ("hawia") for her, 

 so we doubled across her back our thin, single fly-tent 

 which we had meant to leave behind. At the last 

 moment Yusuf, ever economical, stuck the three light 

 poles in somewhere. 



We therefore started with a caravan of nine, but 

 they were distinctly overloaded, for we had to carry 

 water for six or seven days, since Suleiman, the guide, 

 was uncertain as to how long it would take to dig out 

 the Zakar well. That day we marched ten hours, with 

 a hot sun and a cold north-north-west wind. We left 

 the Hawari Gara a dark block to the west, with the 

 great indigo cliffs of the Gebel Neri far beyond it. 

 Gradually we drew away from the hot, red sands of 

 Kufara with their patches of strange black stones. In 

 the afternoon we emerged on to the pale, flattish country 

 sweeping up to the foot of the Hawaish mountains. 

 These, however, were still invisible when we camped at 

 sunset, because the two smallest camels refused to go 

 any farther. We missed the blacks while struggling to 

 unload our unruly beasts, two of whom were three- 

 year-olds and never could be barraked without a 



