nished with my camp bed and luggage. A huge fire
blazed and spluttered on the hearth, and, in spite of
the rain which pattered on the roof and the wind
which howled and whistled round the building, we
soon became warm and comfortable.
Soon all were upon the most amicable of terms.
El Ayed ceased swearing at the guardian and hobnobbed
with him over the fire, while Aissa and El
Haj lounged upon a long-piled rug, picked up
information as to the Tawareks, and exchanged the
news of the desert with the guardian’s friends.
Occasionally even El Ayed and Aissa addressed mild
remarks to each other.
The sqiife.ll passed away almost as suddenly as it
had come; so I took my gun and went outside to see
if I could find any palm-doves to shoot.
The Sahara is a land of many surprises. This
great desert is the last place that one would imagine
capable of affording the angler an opportunity for
exercising his skill, yet once in a desert stream not
very far from Biskra I enjoyed an excellent day’s
fishing with a rod and line for a sort of barbel. In
doing so I thought I had reached the height of the
incongruous in sport. But at Bled et Ahma I think
that I surpassed this record, for there, in an oasis in
the Sahara hundreds of miles from the edge of the
desert, I shot a snipe.
Supper that night was a meal which I shall not
soon forget. Before leaving Tougourt I had sent
Aissa down into the souk to buy some meat, and
unfortunately I had not superintended the marketing
With conscious pride he laid before me a huge
steak done to a turn. One mouthful was sufficient.
I turned to Aissa.
I thought I told you not to buy goat again for
me? ’
‘Pardon, that is not goat.’
* Well, it is not mutton.’
No, he said, it is not mutton. There was no
mutton in the market. I t ’s beef.’
Beef ? Why, we have not seen a cow since
leaving Biskra.’
Not cow s beef—camel’s beef. I thought as I
could get no mutton that you would like it better
than goat.’
Visions of that dying she-camel being flogged to
death and of its spotted purple flesh lying covered
with flies on the ground in all the filth and garbage
of the Tougourt market came up before my eyes,
and I arose sadly and went supperless to bed. My
Arabs had a feast that night.
In the village near at hand a zickav, or marriage
dance, was going on. Their gun-firing and tamtam
banging continued all night, and had not even
stopped when at six o’clock we started the next
morning.
The weather was still cold and inclined to rain,
and, though I walked in an ulster most of the day,
I was by no means too warm : and this was in the
beginning of April in the ‘ burning Sahara ’ !
About midday we were joined by a small caravan,
proceeding like ourselves to Wargla, with cement
for the French Government. The members of the