CHAPTER III
A DETAILED description of a desert journey would
be tedious. Day after day passed in much the same
way. Occasionally a sirocco blew, parching our
lips and scorching our cheeks, or a sandstorm raged,
making our eyes smart, filling our nostrils and ears
with sand, and causing general misery. But the
days on which these happened were the exception,
and the fine days which came between amply made
up for these temporary inconveniences.
The Sahara in the spring is a delightful country
to travel in. The air, though warm, is usually
wonderfully soft and invigorating. Mosquitoes are
unheard of, and flies, the plague of most warm
countries, are unknown—those delights are reserved
for the oases.
The scenery was never without charm. There
was always the same wide level expanse of brownish
soil, covered more or less sparsely with tufts of rank
yellow grass and little silver-grey and olive-green
bushes. There was nearly always the same clear
blue sky overhead and the same brilliant sunshine,
but though the scenery was somewhat monotonous
the colouring was so soft and harmonious that it
was always most wonderfully pretty.
A SEARCH FOR THE MASKED TAWAREKS 81
Nor was it by any means devoid of life. Little
lizards scuttled across the road, crested larks ran
before us down our path, swallows skimmed over
the ground, and huge kites and falcons sailed on
motionless pinions overhead. Sometimes a raven
would be heard croaking lugubriously in the distance
or a lovely little black, grey, and white bird, perched
on a bush by the roadside, would go through an
eccentric performance for our benefit, sing three
bell-like notes in an ascending scale, and then rise
perpendicularly into the air to a height of fifty feet
and drop like a stone on to the same twig, and
repeat the performance. Occasionally we would
disturb a covey of sand-grouse which would fly off
with their curious chuckling whistle. Sometimes
we would sight a gazelle or bustard. Then Alssa
and I would go in pursuit, while El Haj took the
camel on to try and divert their attention.
A camel with his regular plodding stride is a
capital beast to walk with—if you keep on his
windward side. Over a hard gravelly surface he
moves, perhaps, rather slowly, but over soft sand
he goes quite fast enough to satisfy the average
mortal.
Sometimes we met a caravan coming from the
south, laden almost invariably with dates, and we
stopped for a few minutes to pass the time of day
and to pick up if we could some news of the whereabouts
of the Tawareks. We got, however, no
definite information, for the news which we received
was always very vague and conflicting. More
rarely we were overtaken by a caravan coming