264 THE SECRET OF SAHARA: KUFARA 



from the many-coloured kufiya which Hassanein had 

 wound over his nose and mouth. "The one comfort is 

 that we shall either be in Jaghabub in twelve days or 

 we shall be dead!" it said. "Are your boots very 

 painful with all that brass stuck in them?" I asked 

 sweetly! 



For an hour we drove the camels slowly over rough, 

 stony ground with large loose slabs lying about. Then 

 the hills gave place to the white sands and we looked 

 down on to dunes hke the turbulent breakers of a stormy 

 sea. Yusuf glanced solemnly at the last dark stones 

 behind us. "We are lucky to leave the red country 

 without exchanging gunpowder," he announced, "but 

 the friends of the Sayeds are always blessed. You have 

 been especially protected by Allah, for the Zouias are 

 a bad people." It was rare that the plump one was 

 really serious except when his food or sleep were 

 threatened, so we guessed that he knew more than he 

 would even tell us. The rising north wind, however, 

 prevented much conversation and before we had reached 

 the first line of dunes it had developed into something 

 resembling the sandstorm of the previous day. It was 

 bitterly cold. If one rode, the wind pierced through 

 every blanket that could be wound round one and one was 

 nearly blown off the camel. If we walked with a jerd 

 muffled over our heads, the sand poured through the 

 woollen stuff into eyes, mouth and nose and we literally 

 staggered as we mounted each succeeding ridge and met 

 the full force of the gale at the top. I used to struggle 

 on for a mile or two and then half bury^ myself under 

 the lee of a gherd till the stumbling, half-bhnded caravan 

 caught up. 



A weary day was passed in repeating this process, 

 until everyone looked upon the unfaltering guide as his 

 personal enemy who would never stop his slow, inter- 



