258 THE SECRET OF SAHARA: KUFARA 



suggested making a fortified zariba on the hill-side, 

 Yusuf and I, after furtive glances at the enormous 

 loads, with the very long march fresh in our minds, 

 thought it would be much better to perish comfortably 

 in the hollow. "It will only prolong the fight if we 

 defend the hill," said I plaintively. "I want to go to 

 sleep on that nice soft patch of sand." But, unfor- 

 tunately, Hassanein and Amar were also against me. 

 Therefore, we were forced to drag the large fodder 

 sacks laboriously up the first ridge of the hill and push 

 them into a serried wall on a ledge. I have never been 

 Grosser in my whole life, but it was a beautiful little 

 fort when it was finished. I felt that only a very 

 energetic bullet would get through those immense date 

 sacks and the position would certainly be impregnable 

 so long as any of the defenders were alive. The girbas 

 were arranged in front of us protected by stones, so, 

 sure of food and water, we could even stand a siege. 

 The camels were below us in the hollow. Yusuf and I 

 again suggested a very tiny fire, but Mohammed refused 

 and we contented ourselves with four-day-old bread and 

 tinned corned beef. After that I silently unrolled my 

 flea-bag preparatory to placing my revolvers, the aneroid 

 and the thermometer beside my pillow. "I shall not go 

 to bed," said Hassanein sternly. "We must take turns 

 to watch." "The right is with you," replied Moham- 

 med with alacrity. "Is your rifle loaded, Amar, my 

 son? We will all watch." This, however, was too 

 much. Yusuf and I merely ignored the remark, but, as 

 I gave a last comforting wriggle to feel the thick, 

 woolly end of my flea-bag with my toes, I heard 

 Hassanein's voice somewhere above me, alert and 

 strained, "If anyone comes into sight shall I speak to 

 them first or fire at once? What is your custom 

 here?" Two simultaneous answers blended with my 



