THE ELUSIVE DUNES 273 



the odd, vivid little pictures that flash suddenly into 

 one's hfe and that one never forgets. A crackling, 

 scented fire, criminally large in the circumstances, threw 

 a wavering golden circle in the midst of flat, shadowed 

 sand, interminable, bourneless. Against the brilliant 

 stars a tall, white-robed figure was silhouetted, hands 

 raised to heaven, white hood framing the stern, dark- 

 featured face, intoning the dawn prayers. "Allahu 

 Akhbar!" rang out with undaunted faith, with un- 

 dimmed courage, to the one Guide whom the Beduin 

 ti'usts to lead his labouring caravans through desert and 

 dune to the desired oasis. Beside the glowing brush- 

 wood, Suleiman, bent double over a huge cauldron, 

 monotonously pounded the morning's "asida," his long 

 pestle moving to the rhj^thm of his quavering chant, 

 while Amar, huddled under his coarse jerd, stirred red 

 sauce flavoured with fil-fil. Yusuf 's plump face was set 

 in immobile discontent against the flames, as, mufiled 

 in every conceivable garment and wrap, he methodically 

 fed the fire, twig by snapping twig. White robes, a 

 fire and the paling stars, with a circle of camels looming 

 formless and dark in the background. That was my 

 picture and then Yusuf 's cross voice spoiled it. "The 

 girba water is very bad," he said. "The rice will be 

 black!" "Maleish! I shall not see it!" I said, 

 shivering; but a few minutes later we tasted it, when 

 the plump one, sleepy-eyed, shuflled across with a grimy 

 frying-pan. He had sand on his nose and forehead to 

 show that he had said his morning prayers, but, whereas 

 the rest of the retinue devoutly bowed their heads to 

 the earth three times a day at least, I always suspected 

 Yusuf of calmly dabbing a little shingle on his face as 

 he went along. 



The hard-boiled eggs gave out that day, so we had 

 to drown the taste of the girba rice with sardines. Our 



