CHAPTER XV

THE END OF THE JOURNEY

We camped that night at Bu Salama, the next hatia on the way to

Jaghabub. The wood was too green to make really good fires, though

Mohammed and Hassanein laboured manfully in the sand. The rest of us

were too tired to care what happened, provided we could lie down and not

move for hours and hours. The grey camel evidently shared our feelings,

for he had fallen in barraking. Amar, hopping round him distressfully

without making the slightest attempt to help the rider, called

repeatedly on the name of Sidi el Mahdi. It is amazing the complete

faith every Senussi has in the spiritual and mental power of the Sayeds.

Whenever the young nagas ran away old Suleiman used to stand perfectly

still and repeat urgently, “Influence of Sidi Idris! Influence of Sidi

Idris!” While once, while sleeping perilously in a more than usually odd

position, I nearly fell as my camel stumbled down a dune, Yusuf muttered

the name of every Sayed living and dead to ensure my safety.

I have never travelled in any country so united in devotion to its ruler

as Libya. Presumably Sidi Idris is somewhat less powerful than Allah in

the eyes of the Senussi, but he is nearer at hand! Their confidence in

his capabilities is so unbounded that it must occasionally embarrass the

Sayed himself. From curing a camel a thousand miles away to stopping a

sandstorm, from conquering the world to producing a well where there is

no water, all are within the power of the son of Sidi el Mahdi. Our own

prestige as friends of so important and puissant a personage was,

therefore, considerably lowered when we humbly suggested that the

retinue had better leave their varied armoury in Jaghabub as we could

not guarantee that the Egyptian frontier authorities would allow them to

enter Siwa. Yusuf looked blank. “But you will write a letter——” he

suggested. He knew the all-powerful, almost magical effect of a missive

from Sidi Idris in Libya, and reasoned that his guests could surely

arrange the simple affair of the rifles in their own country by putting

pen to paper. When we confessed our impotence he entertained the gravest

doubts as to our position and respectability!

We had decided to send Mohammed on to Jaghabub before sunrise so that we

might sleep next night in a house. Therefore, long after I had retired

into my flea-bag, I saw Hassanein and Yusuf struggling to shave our

delightful retainer by the light of the camp fire with a safety razor

blade held in a pair of pliers. Suleiman and Amar offered interested

suggestions interspersed with remarks on the number of grey hairs which

had resulted from the journey.

In spite of the eight hours’ journey ahead, Mohammed donned his best

clothes to present himself at the zawia where he had been educated.

Therefore I was surprised when Yusuf started next morning in his ragged

white shirt and patched waterproof. “I always ride the last day of a

journey,” he announced firmly, depositing himself on the least weary

camel.

We broke camp at 7 A.M. and straggled slowly by dreary grey gherds and

uneven stretches of colourless sands and stones to a small hatia, Bahet

Hafan, where a few palms grew among more fantastic boulders. The heat

was intense as we entered a country of low white hillocks, with slabs of

shale that made the camels stumble more than ever; but the end came with

unexpected rapidity, for, after the guide had told us under a noon sun

that it was a long day’s march to Jaghabub, Yusuf spied the white qubba

of the zawia from a friendly gherd. In a few minutes the whole round

wadi spread before us, with its strips of scattered palms and brushwood,

and beyond a line of square sandstone cliffs the white walls of Jaghabub

that looked so near and that took us more than two hours to reach.

The home of Sidi Ben Ali is by far the most picturesque of the Senussi

oases, for it is blinding white in the sunshine—a smooth, polished

cupola and tall madna, with the open-arched gallery of Sidi Idris’s

house rising above the massive, fortress-like walls of the zawia, all

white—white as the windmills that look like marble pillars in the

distance or the pale sand brick of the few big houses that surround the

zawia. Jaghabub is not a town in the proper sense of the word. It is one

immense building with thick, windowless walls, surrounding a maze of

courts, passages, schools, lodgings for students, the big houses of the

Senussi family and the large mosque and qubba of Sidi Ben Ali. It stands

on a cliff from which flights of steps lead down to palm gardens and the

one big well that supplies water to the whole settlement. Outside the

massed, many-storied buildings of the zawia are a few scattered houses,

but Jaghabub is a university pure and simple. When Sidi el Mahdi removed

his headquarters to Kufara he freed half a hundred slaves, giving them

the gardens that they cultivated and ordering that their rights should

be respected by his successors; so now there is a colony of these

liberated blacks who live among the palms in the wadi. They work hard in

their vegetable gardens, which are irrigated by an excellent system of

channels and reservoirs dependent on the spring below the zawia, and

they sell their dates and produce to the college.

Two of the students met us half-way across the wadi with a note from

Mohammed saying that rooms were being prepared for us in the zawia and

Yusuf promptly proceeded to change his clothes. He tore off his tattered

shirt, baring a muscular brown torso to the public gaze, produced a

mysterious bundle from a sack on my camel and shook from it embroidered

waistcoat, silk jerd, yellow shoes and immaculate white linen, all of

which he donned as we walked along. When the white walls were very near

we fired our revolvers into the air to announce our arrival and Mohammed

came out to meet us, smiling broadly. We passed through a big, white

arch into a wide, open space with a well in the middle, round which were

clustered groups of students who gave us warm greeting. To the right

rose the solid, castle-like wall of Sidi Idris’s house, whose gallery on

the other side looked down on to a beautiful square court of the qubba

with its wide-arched and columned arcades. The façade near the square is

pierced by a few shuttered windows and the carved main door through

which one goes to the qubba court. To the left the square was bordered

by a row of neat little round-lintelled doors, each with a slit of

window above it, the lodging-houses for the students. A big, two-storied

house rose beyond and, at the door of this, we were met by a delightful

old man with pale, thin face, a long beard as white as his woollen jerd

or the colourless walls behind him.

“Greeting to you and the peace of Allah!” he said, and led us into a

dwelling more complicated even than the kaimakaan’s house of many courts

at Taj. We went up and down little flights of steps which seemed to

exist without reason, under low arches, by odd little passages and mud-

floored yards, till a longer staircase led us to a flat roof, across

which we followed our host to a large high room, matted and carpeted,

but devoid of furniture. For the first time I lived in an Arab house

which had a view from the windows, for here there was no yard to shut

one into a mysterious little world of secluded privacy. From the cross-

barred windows with swinging shutters one looked down on the big square

and the white figures gossiping round the well or across to the group of

our weary camels, literally bulging after their enormous drink, to

students seated at the doors of their rooms with Koran and rosary.

Our host, Sidi Yadem Bu Gemira, one of the important ekhwan, was so

anxious to hear the complete story of our journey that he would not

leave us before we had drunk sweet coffee, seated on his best carpet,

and answered all his questions as to why we had come from Kufara by such

a hard route. Before we had satisfied his kindly curiosity, Sidi el

Fagil, plump and ebony-faced, with greying moustache, the Imam of the

mosque, and other ekhwan, had hurried to visit us. I was so tired I

could hardly hold up my head. My nose was blistered and peeling, my face

burning, my eyes watering. I was intensely hungry. Every nerve seemed to

be throbbing and aching and, above all, I was conscious of dirt. I felt

completely vague as I leaned against the wall and, when a murmur of

voices below suggested the possibility of other visits, I basely left

Hassanein to entertain the venerable ekhwan and crept down a discreet

little stairway to a quaint-shaped room that lurked under one of the

innumerable archways, forgotten, I think, by the architect, who must

have had a most tortuous mind. It was full of dust and clay, but I felt

a little more dirt did not matter, and here I was found by the kindly

Yusuf, when the last visitor had gone, fast asleep on Hassanein’s grimy

jerd.

“The Sitt Khadija must eat,” he said. “The wakil of Sidi Idris has sent

you dinner.” The magic word roused me and the sight of a gleaming brass

tray set on a little table 6 inches high in the middle of our unbroken

sea of carpet finished the cure. When we lifted the palm-leaf covers

from the bowls we found eggs, pigeons and vegetables cooked in wonderful

savoury sauces, with piles of most delicious bread, brown and flaky,

but, alas! every cunning sauce was so impregnated with red pepper that

we had most gingerly to remove the pigeons and dust them carefully

before eating, after which we regretfully deposited a just proportion of

the rest of the meal in a carefully prepared hole in a backyard lest the

feelings of our host be hurt. We had just removed all traces of our

villainy when he appeared to drink tea with us.

Sidi Hussein, the wakil, was, of all the hosts who generously

entertained us on behalf of the Sayeds, the most delightful because he

was the most simple. Jaghabub is not a political or mercantile centre,

like Kufara or Jalo. It has all the dreaming peace of a little

university town, only its dons are reverend, grey-bearded sheikhs in

flowing white jerds over grass-green or indigo-blue robes. Its

undergraduates are graver figures, with books and beads, than those of

Trinity or The House, while the scouts, I suppose, are the black slaves

of hideous aspect who live in a special court of the zawia, but I feel

sure they are more industrious and certainly more frugal than their

English counterparts on the banks of the Isis and Cam.

Sidi Hussein made tea with a formality as deliberate as that of the

kaimakaan at Taj, but his conversation was much less ceremonious. There

was no rigid etiquette observed in series of questions and answers. For

once the undercurrent of suspicion and unrest was absent and we curled

up our mental antennæ with a feeling of complete peace. The little town,

so aloof from the world in its secluded wadi, yet the nursery of a great

confraternity where still is nourished a force whose influence is felt

all along North Africa, wished us well. A very intimate friendliness

pervaded the gathering in the semi-gloom of the candle-lit room. The

wakil’s huge beard flowed grey and soft over dark jubba with a many-

coloured waistcoat beneath, but there was no lavish display of silk or

embroidery, because the ekhwan of Jaghabub are more devoted to learning

than to luxury. “We are poor men who spend our time in prayer,” said one

of them with the utmost simplicity and a dreamy look in his faded old

eyes. Their great pride is their qubba, and a reflection for this homage

showed in Yusuf’s face when, the night of our arrival, just as I had

finished scrubbing off the first layer of grime and was wondering if I

could decently ask Amar to heat another quart or two of water, he

arrived with a guttering candle to suggest that I should go at once to

see the sanctuary. “There will be no people there at this hour,” he

said, but, when we had crossed the starlit square and left our shoes

inside the first arcade of the mosque, we heard a low, monotonous

chanting coming from the shadows beyond the great white court! It was in

keeping with the solemn spirit of the night and the scene and the proud

happiness in Yusuf’s face, as he led me through long, dim ways which he

trod unfaltering, back again in imagination in his boyhood’s days, when

perhaps he had been as earnest and devout a learner as the grave-faced

students who passed us in the square.

Through a fine carved and painted door we passed into the mosque, very

quiet, white and dignified, the dark carpets on the floor the only rich

note to break its utter simplicity. The silence began to beat on my ear

drums with the impression of so many prayers, hopes, resolves, fervently

uttered by youth in these low aisles, remembered again by age when it

revisited the earliest centre of its faith. Yusuf did not break it. Eyes

bright with a light I had never seen in them before, he beckoned me on

into the qubba itself and we stood in a painted chamber, ornate with

gold and many colours, below the big dome, hung with huge, finely

moulded glass lamps. I murmured swift Arabic prayers before a square

grid of carved bronze that surrounded the tomb of the great Senussi. I

was afraid even the whisper of the “Fatha” might hurt the silence, for

our footfalls were muffled by thick, piled carpets, but the man whose

mind I had always imagined fixed on things of the earth, earthly,

shattered it with a sudden sound, half cry, half groan, as he bent

passionately to kiss the rail and afterwards the hand with which he had

touched it!

In the morning, after an excellent but peppery breakfast brought by

Mabruk, a hatchet-faced slave whom we used to watch running across the

square with a bowl into which he poked a surreptitious finger at our

door to see if it were still hot, I went again to the mosque and saw

other Senussi tombs. I found the wide, white arches had much charm by

sunlight, but I never again caught the mystic spirit of the night when

the living force of Islam had flamed for a second before my eyes.

Yusuf proved an excellent guide to Jaghabub. With intense pride he took

us through the maze of college buildings, pointing out the house of each

of the Senussi, Sidi Rida, Sidi Idris, Sayed Ahmed Sherif, Sayed Hilal

and Sayed Safi ed Din, which make a massive block round the white qubba.

In the big open square, where the pupils of the zawia lodge, he

announced, “We each of us have a house here. Amar has one. I have one.

We can come back whenever we like. It is our own country.” Thus the

zawias hold their pupils long after they have gone out to the cities and

deserts. The portly ekhwan, the prosperous merchant, the Beduin sheikh

or the wandering scribe may turn into the zawia where he has been

educated, sure of finding a room and a welcome. Even the chance

traveller may claim the three days’ hospitality of the Senussi and the

poorer he is the more generous it will be.

We spent two days in the high tower above the square, talking simply

about simple things with the ekhwan, doctoring some of the students with

pathetically inadequate remedies, exchanging the gossip of Kufara for

that of Egypt with a few west-bound merchants. Then we set out on the

last stage of our journey, determining that for once we would travel

slowly and peacefully, grazing the camels as we went, riding a little by

night for the sheer joy of the stars and barraking to make mint tea

wherever a haita tempted us with its wood and shade.

Fate must have laughed in her sleeve, but no echo of her mirth reached

us as we loaded our four camels inside the zawia walls or paused beyond

the first gherd while Sidi Hussein said the “Fatha.” I only realised

that this was the last Arabic blessing that would attend my journey and

suddenly I felt heartsick for the land I was leaving. The white,

clustered walls, the white qubba behind, stood for the effort we had

made, the object we had struggled for, far more than Kufara itself had

ever done. Mohammed was really broken down by the journey and unable to

come on with us, so, with this little land of hope and fear, success and

failure, with these winter months of high-pitched excitement and tense

endurance, we were losing a friend! An odd pain possessed me as we

finally parted in fine, whirling sand and a wind which blew his jerd

wildly about his face and when Yusuf said complacently, “The Sitt

Khadija is happy. She will be in her own country soon,” I knew the

desert had won after all. Those who are initiated into her secrets are

for ever held in her thrall. I think my voice was rather wobbly as I

answered, “No, no, I am sad because I am leaving the Senussi country

behind!” So quick is Arab sympathy, so responsive is their instinct,

that Yusuf’s face reflected my woful expression. “My heart was touched,”

he confided to Amar. “I would have wept with the Sitt Khadija because

she has many feelings.”

There was a strong north-west wind that day, but it was behind us, so we

rode slowly and placidly through the distorted country of sand and shale

that lies east of Jaghabub. I do not know whether sportive giants dig

for treasure or young gods build play castles and entrenchments in that

desolate land, but on every side rise fantastic shapes of wind-blown

sand. Reddish layers drip over polished white bases that look like

chalk. Ridge after ridge of storm-polished gherds shut one into a maze

of strange hillocks that give way occasionally to welcome green of

hatias. The retinue had shrunk to three, Yusuf, Amar and a new guide,

one Abu Bekr Manfi, who looked exactly like the wicked Caliph in Dulac’s

illustrations to the Arabian Nights, for he had a huge beaked nose

which, under an immense loosely rolled turban, curved to meet his

pointed beard and nut-cracker jaw. His curious eyes were for ever asking

questions, but his dialect was almost beyond my comprehension.

We proceeded very slowly because all the camels were tired and the

retinue had surreptitiously added to their loads immense earthenware

jars to fill with oil at Siwa, but it did not matter, for this was a

friendly desert, generous of her wood and water. We halted at El Amra,

where the Mahdi had built two great cisterns some fifty feet long with

domed roofs, through holes in which the water drips into the immense

chamber below. Abu Bekr made tea with a swiftness suggesting that his

Caliph ancestor had bequeathed to him the services of his familiar

genii. Then we proceeded slowly, walking and riding alternately another

12 kilometres to Maktuh, where we turned the weary camels loose to graze

and cooked our rice and “asida” respectively under a delightfully sweet-

scented bush, while inquisitive blackbirds with impertinent white

patches over their bills hopped cheerfully around us. In red mist of

sunset we started to reload, noticing that Abu Bekr carefully joined his

“Asr,” “Fagr” and “Aisha” prayers into one unending stream in order to

avoid having to do any work.

A golden crescent lighted a white world as we left the hatia, labouring

through the sabakha with great dunes looming on our right. I felt

infinitely at peace in the shimmering, silvery stillness, the silence

only broken by the soft pad-padding of the camels or Yusuf’s sudden

wailing chant in praise of his beloved qubba, “white as the breast of a

virgin.” The desert was in her most magical mood and I longed to turn

south again and ride back into her bourneless country by the pale light

of Jedi and Suhail. Then a strange murmuring sound arose in the dunes.

It was as if a great wind bore the humming of a myriad monstrous bees.

“The jinns are awake to-night!” said Yusuf fearfully. “Something evil

will befall us. They are making a great noise in the sands!” I laughed

at him and wondered if it were the throb of the breeze reverberating in

the empty oil jars or if we were so near civilisation that an aeroplane

had become a possibility. Then I remembered the desert drums of the

French Sahara, for which no human fingers are responsible, and I

wondered if, when one is very near akin to the Spirit of the Earth, one

can hear the beat of her pulse.

I turned on my big blond beast to ask Hassanein what he thought of the

strange throbbing and instead of a crouched figure swaying monotonously

on the grey Tebu, I saw a heap pick itself briskly from a patch of

stones. “I think I have broken my collar-bone!” said a calm, laughing

voice. “You wouldn’t say it quite so happily if you had!” I grunted,

with memories of hunting falls. “Perhaps not,” replied my companion,

clambering back on to his camel. “All the same, there’s a most enormous

lump. I believe I have.” And, though the voice still laughed, I grasped

suddenly that it spoke disastrous truth! Camels were roughly barraked.

Yusuf, for once bereft of speech, stumbled round, mutely offering most

of his clothing as bandages. Abu Bekr, practical and brutal, wished to

massage the lump as a sprain. I blessed for once the cumbersome length

of the red hezaam. Bandages and sling it made at the same time and left

an end over to fix a cushion under the armpit.

All the time Hassanein was cheerfully explaining that the Tebu had

thoughtlessly stumbled just as he was practising gymnastics, in order to

extract a blanket from some mysterious recess among the baggage sacks,

but we gave him short time for talk. We hustled him into a roughly made

“basoor” and a pitiful little procession started off again, for suddenly

the silver night had become desperately lonely, the drumming of the

jinns sinister and the trail to Siwa, with half-exhausted camels and

none too willing men, a thing of intolerable length.

Thereafter our journey was just the chronicle of a very gallant feat of

endurance. The golden sickle died behind us, but we plodded on. No

longer were the 85 kilometres in front of us a friendly desert to be

traversed slowly and comfortably. At all costs we must reach Siwa and a

doctor before the fractured bone broke the skin and set up

mortification. The greatest difficulty was the retinue, who could not

believe that the “Ahmed Bey” who laughed at them and urged them to sing

could really have a broken bone. “It is a little sprain,” said Yusuf

hopefully. “We will make a fire and massage it with oil of jasmine and

it will be cured.” But I drove them on unrelenting till the rough ground

west of Kusebeya made the camels stumble hopelessly in the darkness. I

hated Abu Bekr when he calmly lit himself a fire and, warming his feet

at the blaze, started chanting the Koran in a loud, exasperating voice.

We could not get the unfortunate Hassanein into a flea-bag and no

position we could devise could give rest to his shoulder, already jarred

by the unending bumps and jerks of a camel’s pace. All we could do was

to pile our cushions and blankets under him and cover him with the

sleeping-sacks. Yusuf toiled nobly and, in the cold night which

followed, during which Abu Bekr was the only one who slept, I heard him

come shuffling several times to see if he could help.

Never was a dawn more welcome, but as we helped my infinitely plucky

companion on to a camel, waiting for no breakfast except coffee, made

overnight in a thermos flask, I wondered whether human endurance could

last out another forty-eight hours like this. The shoulder was already

inflamed and the ground terribly rough, so that every few minutes the

rider was jerked and jolted painfully. We passed the blue salt lake of

Kusebeya, a strip of colour on our left, and clambered down into the

hatia, where the camels had to be turned loose to graze. We found a palm

clump and cooked rice in the shade and Hassanein’s smile grew a little

more twisted, in spite of my best efforts with bandages and sling.

I would hardly allow the retinue to finish their noisy gulps of tea.

“What does it matter if you are tired?” I flung at them. “That bone has

got to be set to-morrow night!” “Three and a half days from Jaghabub to

Siwa,” said Yusuf mournfully. “We would walk with you all night, but the

camels will not go.” “They have got to go,” said I sternly, but I knew

that our animals were very nearly exhausted. They had come more than a

thousand miles, with periods of overloading and insufficient food. For

nearly three months they had had no rest but the eight days at Kufara,

and we had always hoped to leave them at Jaghabub to recuperate.

Unluckily, there was not a single beast of burden in the zawia to take

us on, so we had to pick out the four least weary camels and trust once

more to luck.

That afternoon was one of the longest I have ever spent. When I saw

Hassanein put away his compass I knew that things must be pretty bad and

the fantastic hills were a tortuous maze through which we wandered

eternally! Yusuf pointed out the “Grid,” a group of three gherds which

might serve to support the cookingpots of the largest giants. “We shall

camp at Zaizeb,” he said and I prayed that it might be near. “Allah

alone knows how far it is to that hatia,” said Abu Bekr placidly as we

mounted, it seemed to me for the millionth time, a little rise and saw

nothing below but reddish sand over hard, white blocks, in monstrous

forms that suggested beasts and edibles to the fanciful Amar. Hassanein

was the last of us to fall into silence.

The sun set without showing any signs of the promised hatia. The camels

were obviously incapable of going much farther. Yusuf said pathetically,

“I have walked seventeen days from Kufara on these legs and now they are

very tired.” But Hassanein said nothing. Only when I climbed a huge

mound of stones beside the track and saw the hope in his face as I

looked across a great expanse of broken country I could not resist the

impulse. “I see the hatia,” I lied. “It is quite near.” Darkness came as

we jolted down into the wadi and every rolling stone, every sudden drop

made me realise that two more days of this would be impossible. The

swift appearance of the hatia almost justified my impulsive speech, but

it was very dark as we barraked behind a convenient mound. I insisted

that food should be eaten quickly and that we should then walk till the

moon went down. The retinue expostulated violently. “You must leave some

of the loads,” said Yusuf; and Abu Bekr so firmly ensconced himself in

his blankets that I thought a concerted mutiny was probable. However,

after a forlorn meal, for even my companion’s unfaltering courage could

not hide his pain, I literally pushed the retinue on to their feet and,

by dint of doing half the loading myself, forced them to prepare for

another march.

Hassanein dragged himself mutely on to the grey Tebu, still far the

strongest of the hamla, but when I saw the party crawl away from our

camping ground I knew that I could not force the pace any longer. On the

morrow I would put up the tent and leave my companion there with Yusuf

and Amar. I would take the Kufara camel and Abu Bekr who, for love of

heavy mejidies, would guide me in one long march to Siwa, from where I

could bring back help. “This is the end,” I said to Yusuf. “Pull up your

energy!” And then, Hamdulillah, a dog ran out barking and figures loomed

in the shadows. “Friend,” came the answer to Amar’s challenge. “No

friend walks thus at night,” said Yusuf decidedly and to me, “Get ready

your revolvers!” But I had heard an English voice! Rushing forward,

unheeding of ungirdled barracan, of Moslem custom, of anything in the

world but that the hands of my own countrymen could help as no other

hands in the world, I met a Camel Corps Patrol which the Frontier

Districts Administration had sent out to look for us!

I have absolutely no recollection of what I said to the calm-eyed shadow

in khaki who drew away from the dark figures in close-rolled turbans and

the precise, double row of neatly barraked hejin, but, oh! the

efficiency of England! I have railed at her so often and with so much

justice. I have run away from her powers-that-be when I have wanted to

penetrate to particularly unauthorised and impossible places, but that

night I valued her as never before! In so few minutes the situation

changed. Did I relinquish my command or was it unconsciously taken from

me by Beneficent Khaki? I do not know, but the retinue’s grumbling sank

to awed silence at the power which had leaped to meet us. The hamla were

driven on to camp at a given place and the swiftest hejin went back to

Siwa, untiring through the night, to fetch a doctor and car to Girba,

only half a day ahead.

Fate had played against the kindness of an English Governor then at

Siwa, for the rescue party had camped but a couple of hundred yards from

our distressed dinner, and she had lost, because the wandering dog had

heralded our approach. Otherwise we might have drifted on into the

night.

Almost before I realised how life had changed I found myself on a white

trotting camel with a specially immense sheepskin testifying to very

gracious forethought. Beneficent Khaki was beside me and, behind me, a

swiftly broken camp, the still-glowing ashes of the fire and then a line

of dark figures on the slender hejin of the Camel Corps. It seemed so

small a thing now, the distance that lay before us, and even the long

trail behind us was suddenly of no account, for we talked of world wars,

of nations still in the melting-pot. How eagerly I asked for news!

Governments had fallen, a new republic had sprung into existence, a

famous general had vanished with a great army! Long before I had filled

the gap those desert months had made in newspaper knowledge, we had

overtaken the hamla and Beneficent Khaki was looking out for convenient

shelter. “The leeside of a gherd, I think,” he said firmly. “That big

fellow over there will do,” and he wheeled his tall, white beast sharply

under the hill.

So swiftly the camp was made! I felt ashamed of our clumsy loading, our

lumbering halts, when I saw the ease with which each tall hejin barraked

in its own place in the double line. “What a good thing it is to belong

to such a Government,” said Yusuf enviously. “What fine camels and what

a good turn-out!” There was no grumbling at making a zariba that night.

A meek retinue bestirred themselves mightily to little effect, but

Beneficent Khaki took charge. Marvellously soon, it seemed, Hassanein

was tucked into a wondrous flea-bag, complete with sheets, a real pillow

propped up his shoulder, a thoroughly wind-proof zariba shut out

northern blasts, a fire blazed cheerfully before us and, as I tugged my

own roll of bedding nearer its happy crackling, a voice said

reproachfully: “You mustn’t do that! Do remember that you’ve got lots of

people to do it for you now!” I smiled, for I had almost forgotten the

ways of England.

“Hot tea,” said the same voice. “With milk.” And I noticed an enormous

kettle on the fire. Mugs came from a magic picnic basket filled with all

sorts of good things. Rugs and sheepskins appeared from the spare camels

brought for our riding. Was there anything the Frontier Districts

Administration could not produce at a second’s notice? Then someone said

“Sausages” and even Hassanein was enthusiastic. We cooked them with

tomato sauce on the scented brushwood fire and ate them steaming hot,

with white new bread from the hospitable basket and then—how we talked!

Beneficent Khaki smoked a pipe and we, blissfully indifferent to the

stern Senussi laws which had forbidden us tobacco for so many weeks, saw

visions and dreamed dreams in the blue haze of our first cigarettes.

It must have been nearly 2 A.M. when we finally buried ourselves in our

flea-bags, but no one slept—Hassanein because of his broken bone,

Beneficent Khaki because he had been too recklessly generous in the

disposal of his own blankets and I because the Great Adventure was

ended!

I lay on my back and looked at the stars, weighing the balance of

success and failure and, suddenly, I felt that this was not really the

end. Some time, somehow, I knew not where or when, but most assuredly

when Allah willed, I should come back to the deserts and the strange,

uncharted tracks would bear my camels south again.

For those who like to know the end of every story be it said that the

efficiency which had taken possession of us did not relinquish its grasp

until it had deposited us, bewildered and hopelessly out of place, in

the hotel at Alexandria, after a 430-mile motor drive from Siwa. It was

complete to the last detail.

Hot tea steamed beside our flea-bags before the dawn brought us out of

them. At a pace which would have made light of the long trail to Zakar

we trotted on to the hatia at Girba, where, under the largest palm,

waited a doctor complete with aluminium fittings. The cars arrived

exactly at the correct moment. The road to Siwa was unexpectedly smooth

and oh! how hot and plentiful was the bath water at the rest house!

There I discarded my worn barracan with a sigh of relief, yet, as I

wandered through the honeycomb of old Siwa, with its close-piled houses

one upon another and its labyrinth of dark tunnels that serve as

streets, I was ashamed before the gaze of Arabs. It seemed to me

intolerable that a Moslem should see my face unveiled. Instinctively I

pulled at my hat brim and my flying cloak, for, curiously, the soul of

this people had become mine and I resented the lack of privacy till I

remembered that the Sitt Khadija was no more!

Once again we spent a night in the desert, but this time in the shelter

of a tarpaulin hung between two F.D.A. cars, which were to take us to

Matruh, and it was a tame desert with friendly caravans passing and

newly sunk cisterns to prove the enterprise of its Governor. Yet the

silvery moon was the same that turned the Hawari sands to molten amber,

scarred with the sapphire of her palms, and I crept beyond the shelter

and the comfort to watch the setting of the star that Mohammed had

always wanted to “put out!”

“Warm congratulations on your success,” said generous-hearted

officialdom at Siwa and Matruh and the more than kindly welcome was our

best reward.

“So you have been to Kufara,” said a civilian on the coast. “It is an

island, isn’t it, but I always thought it was spelt Korfu!”

Then I met a pretty Englishwoman. The stripe in her skirt matched her

French sweater and faint scent of “Mille Fleurs” drifted from her rose-

petal skin. My nails were broken, my nose blistered. My only European

dress had been hidden for months at the bottom of a sack of bully beef

tins, yet was I sincere when I echoed Hassanein’s vicious “Civilisation,

Hamdulillah!” as he stuffed his kufiya into a corner of his knapsack and

pulled out a fez!

DABA-A, _February 19, 1921_.

APPENDIX A

ROUTE HISTORY

──────┬─────────┬────────┬──────────┬───────────┬──────────┬──────────────────

_Date_│ _Start_ │ _Halt_ │_Distance_│_Direction_│_Weather_ │ _Temperature_

│ │ │ │ │ │

──────┼─────────┼────────┼──────────┼───────────┼──────────┼─────────┬────────

„ │ „ │ „ │ „ │ „ │ „ │_Highest_│_Lowest_

──────┼─────────┼────────┼──────────┼───────────┼──────────┼─────────┼────────

Dec. │6.0 a.m. │9.30 │24 kils. │ 140°│Strong, │26° Cent.│ 2.77°

8th │11.30 │a.m. 2.0│ │ │cold E. │ │ Cent.

│a.m. │p.m. │ │ │wind. Sun.│ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │8.0 a.m. │5.0 p.m.│36 kils. │ 165°│Rain at 9 │43° Cent.│ 5.55°

9th │ │ │ │ │a.m. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │Cloudy. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │ │ │ │ │Hot sun. │32° Cent.│ 3.88°

10th │ │ │ │ │ │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │At Wadi. │Farig. │ │ │Strong S. │44° Cent.│ 6.66°

11th │ │ │ │ │wind. │ │ Cent.

Dec. │1.30 p.m.│3.0 p.m.│8 kils. │ 170° and│E. wind │30° Cent.│ 5.55°

12th │ │ │ │ 175°│a.m. N. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │wind p.m. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │8.40 a.m.│2.40 │24 kils. │ 170° and│Shower 10 │40° Cent.│ 3.88°

13th │ │p.m. │ │ 175°│a.m. Sun. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │N. W. │ │

│ │ │ │ │wind. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │6.15 a.m.│8.45 │22 kils. │ 155°│Sun. No │42° Cent.│

14th │1.30 p.m.│a.m. 4.0│ │ │wind. │ │

│ │p.m. │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │7.30 a.m.│2.30 │30 kils. │ 155°│Cold S. │24° Cent.│

15th │ │p.m. │ │ │wind. │ │

│ │ │ │ │Gibli at │ │

│ │ │ │ │night. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │7.30 a.m.│3.30 │38 kils. │ 160°│S. wind. │22° Cent.│ 5.55°

16th │5.30 p.m.│p.m. 9.0│16 kils. │ │Cold. Sun.│ │ Cent.

│ │p.m. │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │8.30 a.m.│3.30 │30 kils. │ 135°│Strong S. │32° Cent.│ 5.0°

17th │ │p.m. │ │ │W. wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │Sun. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │At │ │ │ │Very hot. │45° Cent.│ 3.33°

18th │Aujela. │ │ │ │No wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │9.30 a.m.│3.30 │24 kils. │ 110°│Cool. │32° Cent.│ 4.44°

19th │ │p.m. │ │ │Cloudy. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │At Jalo. │ │ │ │Hot. │42° Cent.│ 5.0°

20th │ │ │ │ │Cloudy. No│ │ Cent.

Dec. │ │ │ │ │wind. │ │

21st │ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │11.30 │12.30 │3 kils. │ 115°│Sandstorm.│21° Cent.│ 6.66°

22nd │a.m. │p.m. │ │ │ │ │ Cent.

Dec. │7.30 a.m.│1.30 │24 kils. │ 115°│Sun. │30° Cent.│ 6.66°

23rd │ │p.m. │ │ │Strong N. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │wind. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │At │ │ │ │Strong N. │26° Cent.│ 6.66°

24th │Buttafal.│ │ │ │wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │Cloudy. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │Do. │ │ │ │No wind. │38° Cent.│ 5.0°

25th │ │ │ │ │Sun. │ │ Cent.

Dec. │8.30 a.m.│7.30 │46 kils. │ 180°│Cloudy. N.│39° Cent.│ 3.88°

26th │ │p.m. │ │ │Wind. Sun.│ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │8.0 a.m. │7.0 p.m.│44 kils. │ 180°│Cloudy and│28° Cent.│ 7.77°

27th │ │ │ │ │sun. N. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │wind. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │7.40 a.m.│7.10 │46 kils. │ 180°│Cloudy. │30° Cent.│ 6.66°

28th │ │p.m. │ │ │Sun. N. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │wind. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │6.40 a.m.│6.5 p.m.│46 kils. │ 165°│Hot sun. │34° Cent.│ 7.22°

29th │ │ │ │ │N. wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │Shower at │ │

│ │ │ │ │night. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │7.0 a.m. │6.35 │46 kils. │ 180°│Very hot. │46° Cent.│ 6.11°

30th │ │p.m. │ │ │ │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Dec. │6.30 a.m.│7.0 p.m.│46 kils. │ 190°│Cool. Sun.│36° Cent.│ 6.11°

31st │ │ │ │ │N. wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │7.0 a.m. │7.0 p.m.│48 kils. │ 30 K. M.│Hot. │42° Cent.│ 5.55°

1st │ │ │ │ 220°│Cloudy. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ 18 K. M.│ │ │

│ │ │ │ 180°│ │ │

Jan. │8.0 a.m. │6.0 a.m.│40 kils. │ 170°│Fog a.m. │40° Cent.│ 5.0°

2nd │ │ │ │ │Hot. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │Cloudy. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │8.30 a.m.│2.0 p.m.│18 kils. │ 130°│Mist a.m. │42° Cent.│ 4.44°

3rd │ │ │ │ │Sun. No │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │wind. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │7.30 a.m.│6.0 p.m.│40 kils. │ 180°│Mist a.m. │37° Cent.│ 3.33°

4th │ │ │ │ │Sun. S. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │wind. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │7.30 a.m.│2.30 │28 kils. │ 180°│Cold S. │26° Cent.│ 4.44°

5th │ │p.m. │ │ │wind. Hot │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │Sun. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │At │ │ │ │Cool. │32° Cent.│ 2.77°

6th │Buseima. │ │ │ │Bright. No│ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │wind. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │Do. │ │ │ │No wind. │43° Cent.│ 3.33°

7th │ │ │ │ │Hot. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │8.30 a.m.│5.0 p.m.│25 kils. │ 130°│Hot. No │45° Cent.│ 3.88°

8th │ │ │ │ │wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │8.0 a.m. │3.0 p.m.│28 kils. │ 130°│Cold N. E.│30° Cent.│ 3.33°

9th │ │ │ │ │wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │6.30 a.m.│6.0 p.m.│44 kils. │ 130°│Very hot. │45° Cent.│ 3.88°

10th │ │ │ │ │ │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │6.30 a.m.│4.0 p.m.│38 kils. │ 130°│Hot. │43° Cent.│ 5.55°

11th │ │ │ │ │Still. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan │In Hawari│ │ │ │Torrid. │ 112° F. │ 5.0°

12th │ │ │ │ │ │in tent. │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │Do. │ │ │ │Cool. │30° Cent.│ 4.44°

13th │ │ │ │ │ │ │ Cent.

Jan. │11.0 a.m.│4.0 p.m.│20 kils. │ 140°│Cold. E. │23° Cent.│ 5.0°

14th │ │ │ │ │wind. │ │ Cent.

to │ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan │At Taj. │Kufara. │ │ │Sun. │ Average │Average

23rd │ │ │ │ │Occasional│35° Cent.│ 2.22°

│ │ │ │ │cool N. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │wind. │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │To Hawari│(Awardel│23 kils. │ N. W. to│Cold. N. │36° Cent.│ 2.77°

24th │5.0 p.m. │village)│ │ Hawari,│wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │11.0 │ │ then E. N.│ │ │

│ │p.m. │ │ E. 3 kils.│ │ │

│ │ │ │to Awardel.│ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │8.0 a.m. │6.0 p.m.│40 kils. │ 345°│Cold. N. │30° Cent.│ −1.11°

25th │ │ │ │ │wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │7.0 a.m. │8.30 │45 kils. │ 345°│Cold. N. │33° Cent.│ −2.22°

26th │ │p.m. │ │ │wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │4.30 a.m.│5.45 │45 kils. │ 345°│Cold. N. │32° Cent.│ −1.66°

27th │ │p.m. │ │ │wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │6.0 a.m. │2.0 a.m.│32 kils. │ 345°│N.W. │43° Cent.│ −1.66°

28th │ │ │ │ │breeze. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │At well │Zakar. │ │ │Strong │16° Cent.│ −2.22°

29th │at │ │ │ │sandstorm.│ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │7.0 a.m. │7.0 p.m.│50 kils. │ 60°│Cold. N. │12° Cent.│ −1.66°

30th │ │ │ │ │wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │Sandstorm.│ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Jan. │7.30 a.m.│8.30 │52 kils. │ 60°│Torrid. No│50° Cent.│ −2.22°

31st │ │p.m. │ │ │wind. │ │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │7.20 a.m.│2.15 │28 kils. │ 60°│S. W. │ 43.33° │ 0.0°

1st │ │p.m. │ │ │wind. │ Cent. │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │6.30 a.m.│7.30 │54 kils. │ 360°│N. W. │ 40.55° │ −1.11°

2nd │ │p.m. │ │ │wind. │ Cent. │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │6.30 a.m.│7.0 p.m.│52 kils. │ 360°│Torrid. │ 52.22° │ −0.55°

3rd │ │ │ │ │ │ Cent. │ Cent.

Feb. │6.15 a.m.│6.45 │50 kils. │ 360°│Very hot. │ 50.55° │ 3.33°

4th │ │p.m. │ │ │Slight │ Cent. │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │breeze. │ │

Feb. │6.30 a.m.│7.0 p.m.│54 kils. │ 360°│Slight │ 47.77° │ −1.11°

5th │ │ │ │ │breeze. │ Cent. │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │6.0 a.m. │6.30 │54 kils. │ 360°│S. E. │ 46.11° │ −1.66°

6th │ │p.m. │ │ │wind. │ Cent. │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │6.30 a.m.│7.0 p.m.│48 kils. │ 360°│N. E. cold│ 26.66° │ −2.22°

7th │ │ │ │ │wind. │ Cent. │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │6.30 a.m.│6.30 │42 kils. │ 360°│E. wind. │ 32.22° │ −2.22°

8th │ │p.m. │ │ │ │ Cent. │ Cent.

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │6.20 a.m.│6.25 │48 kils. │ │Torrid. No│ 51.11° │ 1.11°

9th │ │p.m. │{10 kils. │ {360°│wind. │ Cent. │ Cent.

│ │ │{28 kils. │ { 42°│ │ │

│ │ │{10 kils. │ { 80°│ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │7.0 a.m. │3.30 │34 kils. │S. E. wind.│48.88° │ 0.0° │

10th │ │p.m. │{29 kils. │ │Cent. │ Cent. │

│ │ │{ 5 kils. │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │At Jaghabub. │ │ │ │ │

11th │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │Do. │ │ │ │ │ │

12th │ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

│ │ │ │ │ │ │

Feb. │Start for Siwa. │ │ │ │ │

13th │ │ │ │ │ │

──────┴──────────────────┴──────────┴───────────┴──────────┴─────────┴────────

──────┬───────────┬────────────┬───────────┬───────────

_Date_│_Altitude_ │ _Country_ │ _Wells_ │_Zawias and

│ │ │ │ Qubbas_

──────┼───────────┼────────────┼───────────┼───────────

„ │ „ │ „ │ „ │ „

──────┼───────────┼────────────┼───────────┼───────────

Dec. │ 40 metres │Flat. │ │At Jedabia.

8th │ │Gravelly │ │Modern

│ │sand. Thick,│ │zawia.

│ │coarse │ │Sheikh

│ │grass. │ │Mohammed

│ │ │ │Qurinyim

│ │ │ │and some 40

│ │ │ │ekhwan.

│ │ │ │Disused

│ │ │ │Madeni

│ │ │ │Zawia of

│ │ │ │Omar Zafr.

Dec. │ 60 metres │Flat. Sandy.│ │

9th │ │Much grass. │ │

│ │Two faint │ │

│ │rises. │ │

Dec. │ │ │Wadi Farig,│

10th │ │ │long │

│ │ │depression │

│ │ │running E. │

│ │ │and W. No │

│ │ │vegetation │

│ │ │or palms. │

│ │ │One large │

│ │ │well │

│ │ │(spring) 15│

│ │ │ft. deep. │

│ │ │Perennial │

│ │ │water, very│

│ │ │salt in │

│ │ │summer and │

│ │ │always │

│ │ │slightly │

│ │ │bitter. │

Dec. │ │Wadi Farig. │ „ │

11th │ │ │ │

Dec. │ 30 metres │Undulating │ │

12th │ │E. to W. │ │

│ │Vegetation │ │

│ │scarce. │ │

Dec. │30 metres. │Flat Sand. │ │

13th │ │Slight │ │

│ │ridges E. │ │

│ │and W. No │ │

│ │scrub. │ │

Dec. │000 metres.│Tableland, │Bir Rassam.│

14th │ Sea level │sudden │1 well in │

│ by well. │square │soft flat │

│ │ridges. No │sand. │

│ │vegetation. │Tufts, │

│ │Drop to │palms. │

│ │plain, El │Perennial │

│ │Arida Hill │bitter │

│ │in sight. │water. 1 │

│ │ │well, │

│ │ │Sahabi, 4 │

│ │ │kils. S. │

│ │ │W., bitter.│

Dec. │30 metres. │Rolling │One bitter,│

15th │ │sand. Rare │bad well. │

│ │vegetation. │Bir Mareg │

│ │Sharp square│E. of │

│ │hillocks El │route, 10 │

│ │Arida Hill │kils. from │

│ │8.30 a.m. │Rassam. │

Dec. │ 90 metres │Very flat. │ │

16th │on hillock │No │ │

│ nr. Garet │vegetation │ │

│ el Melh. │except in │ │

│ │Hatiyet │ │

│ │Buddefar. 2 │ │

│ │p.m. Rolling│ │

│ │sand. │ │

Dec. │ 70 metres │Deep sand. │Msus Oasis.│Zawia built

17th │on highest │Flat. │Many wells,│1872, with

│ swell. │Occasional │Bir Sibil │mosque.

│ │swells. │in wadi. │Eight

│ │ │ │smaller

│ │ │ │mosques.

│ │ │ │Salch Bu

│ │ │ │Fatma

│ │ │ │square

│ │ │ │tower on

│ │ │ │hill. 30 to

│ │ │ │40 ekhwan.

│ │ │ │Sheikh

│ │ │ │Abdul-

│ │ │ │Kassim.

│ │ │ │Mohammed’s

│ │ │ │clerk

│ │ │ │Abdullahi

│ │ │ │Sahabi

│ │ │ │Qubba.

Dec. │ │Oasis with │Aujela. │

18th │ │palms and │Many wells.│

│ │acacias. │Good water.│

Dec. │ │Flat. Fine │Jalo. │

19th │ │gravel. No │Wells, bad │

│ │grass. │water at │

│ │ │Shurruf. │

Dec. │ 80 metres │Large │Wells at │Zawia El

20th │on highest │straggling │Manshia, El│Erg. Sheikh

Dec. │sand ridge │oasis. │Erg, Lebba,│Mohammed es

21st │near town. │Palms. │and water 5│Senussi,

│ │Acacias. │ft. below │modern. 40

│ │Cultivation.│surface in │ekhwan. 7

│ │ │most parts │mosques. 2

│ │ │of oasis. │unimportant

│ │ │ │qubbas,

│ │ │ │Sidi Saleh

│ │ │ │and Sidi

│ │ │ │Mukhtar

│ │ │ │Zawia Lebba

│ │ │ │founded by

│ │ │ │Sidi Ben

│ │ │ │Ali Sheikh

│ │ │ │Omar 80

│ │ │ │ekhwan 150

│ │ │ │boys.

Dec. │ │ │ │

22nd │ │ │ │

Dec. │ 60 metres │Flat. No │Bir │

23rd │ │vegetation. │Buttafal. 1│

│ │ │well often │

│ │ │has to be │

│ │ │dug. │

│ │ │Excellent │

│ │ │water. │

Dec. │ │No │ │

24th │ │vegetation │ │

│ │or palms. │ │

│ │Rolling │ │

│ │sand. │ │

│ │Firewood 5 │ │

│ │kils. E. │ │

Dec. │ │ │ „ │

25th │ │ │ │

Dec. │ │Desolate, │ │

26th │ │flat waste, │ │

│ │unchanging. │ │

│ │Kelb el │ │

│ │Metemma to │ │

│ │E. on │ │

│ │Zieghen │ │

│ │route. _See │ │

│ │note A, page│ │

│ │322._ │ │

Dec. │ │Desolate, │ │

27th │ │flat. No │ │

│ │vegetation. │ │

│ │Unchanging. │ │

│ │Hameimat to │ │

│ │E. on │ │

│ │Zieghen │ │

│ │route. │ │

Dec. │ │Flat waste. │ │

28th │ │No │ │

│ │vegetation. │ │

│ │Unchanging. │ │

Dec. │ │Flat waste. │ │

29th │ │Wadi Farig │ │

│ │imaginary │ │

│ │depression │ │

│ │running E. │ │

│ │and W. │ │

Dec. │220 metres │Flat with │ │

30th │ │faintest │ │

│ │sand-waves. │ │

│ │El Mazul to │ │

│ │E. on │ │

│ │Zieghen │ │

│ │route. │ │

Dec. │ │Flat. No │ │

31st │ │vegetation. │ │

│ │Patches of │ │

│ │black │ │

│ │pebbles. │ │

Jan. │240 metres │Flat. │ │

1st │ │Patches │ │

│ │larger black│ │

│ │stones. │ │

Jan. │240 metres │Slight rise.│El Atash │

2nd │ │Mounds. Big │well near │

│ │dunes 60 ft.│dune 60 ft.│

│ │at 4 p.m. │high N.E. │

│ │ │to S.W., │

│ │ │disused │

│ │ │well, good │

│ │ │water. Few │

│ │ │shrubs. No │

│ │ │fodder. │

Jan. │ │In Hatia, │El Harrash.│

3rd │ │near │Wells can │

│ │Zieghen, few│be dug in │

│ │palms. │bed of │

│ │Mounds. │Hatia near │

│ │Small dunes.│vegetation.│

│ │ │Good water.│

│ │ │Fodder very│

│ │ │scarce. │

Jan. │280 metres │After Hatia,│ │

4th │ │barren sand │ │

│ │in slight │ │

│ │waves. Saw │ │

│ │Buseima │ │

│ │Gebel at 10 │ │

│ │a.m. │ │

Jan. │300 metres │Buseima. │Many wells.│No zawia.

5th │ │Black Nubian│Nasrani │Sheikh

│ │sandstone, │well best │Mohammed el

│ │impregnated │water, │Madeni is

│ │iron oxide │clear, but │chief of

│ │and │flavoured │Senussi.

│ │magnesian │magnesia │

│ │cliffs. Big │sulphate. │

│ │dunes. │ │

Jan. │380 metres │Oasis with │ │

6th │(on dunes) │salt lake 8 │ │

│ │to 10 kils. │ │

│ │long. │ │

Jan. │ „ │Palms. │ │

7th │ │Mountains 15│ │

│ │kils. long. │ │

│ │1 fresh │ │

│ │spring. Salt│ │

│ │marsh. Figs.│ │

│ │Tamarisks. │ │

│ │Acacias. │ │

│ │Tebu ruins. │ │

│ │Sandstone │ │

│ │(Nubian). │ │

│ │Flints and │ │

│ │little │ │

│ │quartz on │ │

│ │sub-layer of│ │

│ │limestone. │ │

Jan. │460 metres │Large dunes.│ │

8th │(on dunes) │Two black │ │

│ │sandstone │ │

│ │cones E. of │ │

│ │route called│ │

│ │Gor Sibb el │ │

│ │Abid or Saar│ │

│ │el Khaddama.│ │

Jan. │500 metres │Large dunes,│ │

9th │(on dunes) │highest Seif│ │

│ │el Birem. │ │

Jan. │520 metres │Dunes │ │

10th │(on dunes) │gradually │ │

│ │smaller. │ │

│ │Gebel Neri │ │

│ │S. Hawaish │ │

│ │mountains W.│ │

Jan. │500 metres │Mountains. │ │

11th │(on dunes) │Rocky waste.│ │

│ │Stony │ │

│ │ridges. │ │

│ │Black │ │

│ │sandballs │ │

│ │and tubes. │ │

│ │Passed W. of│ │

│ │Hawari Gara │ │

│ │12 noon. │ │

Jan │440 metres │Long strip │Hawari. │Small

12th │(on dunes) │oasis. │Wells. Good│zawia.

│ │Palms. │water. │Sheikh Musa

│ │Vegetation. │ │Sqaireen. 1

│ │Gardens. │ │mosque.

Jan. │ Do. │ │ │

13th │ │ │ │

Jan. │ │Kufara. Taj │Wells at │At Taj,

14th │ │on cliff │Taj 120 ft.│Zawia El

to │ │overlooking │deep. │Asyad.

Jan │490 metres │wadi. No │Good water.│Qubba of

23rd │ Taj. │palms or │No springs │Mahdi.

│ │vegetation. │in Wadi, │Important

│ │Wadi 68 │but water 9│mosque. No

│ │kils. long │ft. under │sheikh.

│ │and 15 to 30│soil. Wells│Sidi Saleh

│ │kils. wide, │everywhere.│el Baskari

│ │surrounded │Jof, │acts as

│ │N. S., and │Talakh, │sheikh. 30

│ │E. by cliffs│Zuruk, │ekhwan. At

│ │& gherds │Buma, │Jof,

│ │about 100 to│Boema, │ancient

│ │160 ft. │Tolab, and │original

│ │high. On W. │Tolelib. │zawia.

│ │and in │System of │Sheikh

│ │places S. W.│artificial │Mohammed el

│ │wadi runs │irrigation │Basama.

│ │out into │by shadouks│Qubba

│ │flat sand. │and │daughters

│ │Palm groves │channels. │of Mahdi.

│ │at Buma, │ │Large

│ │Boema, │ │mosque. 20

│ │Zuruk, Jof, │ │to 25

│ │Tolab, and │ │ekhwan.

│ │Tolelib. │ │

│ │Also some │ │

│ │belts │ │

│ │“hattab” │ │

│ │with mounds │ │

│ │up to 20 ft.│ │

│ │high. In │ │

│ │cultivation,│ │

│ │barley, some│ │

│ │wheat, │ │

│ │vegetables, │ │

│ │grapes, │ │

│ │peaches, │ │

│ │olives, │ │

│ │figs, │ │

│ │tamarisks, │ │

│ │acacias. │ │

│ │Thorns wild.│ │

│ │Salt lakes │ │

│ │Buma, Jof │ │

│ │and Bahr el │ │

│ │Azra. Large │ │

│ │salt marshes│ │

│ │at Jof and │ │

│ │Buma with │ │

│ │Tebu ruins. │ │

Jan. │500 metres │Uneven rocky│Wells at │

24th │ │waste. │Awardel. │

│ │Sandstone │Good water.│

│ │ridges. │ │

│ │Stones give │ │

│ │way to sand │ │

│ │on │ │

│ │approaching │ │

│ │oasis. │ │

Jan. │480 metres │Gebel el │ │

25th │ │Saraia and │ │

│ │Hawari-Gara │ │

│ │to W. 26 │ │

│ │kils. Red │ │

│ │sand; then │ │

│ │white sand. │ │

│ │Occasional │ │

│ │stony │ │

│ │ridges. │ │

│ │Passed E. of│ │

│ │three │ │

│ │landmarks on│ │

│ │Zieghen │ │

│ │route—Garet │ │

│ │el Gardia, │ │

│ │Mohgen, and │ │

│ │Garet es │ │

│ │Sherif; │ │

│ │small hills.│ │

Jan. │400 metres │Camped in │ │

26th │ │Hawaish │ │

│ │mountains. │ │

│ │Rocky, steep│ │

│ │hills, 100 │ │

│ │to 180 ft. │ │

│ │high. │ │

Jan. │ │In Hawaish │ │

27th │ │mountains. │ │

│ │Flat sand 16│ │

│ │kils., │ │

│ │between 2 │ │

│ │ranges. │ │

│ │Black │ │

│ │pebbles. │ │

│ │Stony │ │

│ │ground. │ │

Jan. │360 metres │Beyond │ │

28th │ │second │ │

│ │Hawaish │ │

│ │range large │ │

│ │flat stone │ │

│ │slabs. Sand │ │

│ │waves. Saw │ │

│ │third │ │

│ │Hawaish │ │

│ │range to E. │ │

Jan. │250 metres │Two clumps │Zakar well.│

29th │ │of palms. │Good water.│

│ │Small │14 ft. │

│ │mounds, │deep, 2½ │

│ │hattab. │ft. across.│

│ │Rolling │Stone-made │

│ │sand. Stone │walls, │

│ │gherds to │filled in │

│ │N., which │with sand. │

│ │are possibly│_Note._— │

│ │continuation│Before │

│ │of third │digging, │

│ │range of │water must │

│ │Hawaish. │be used to │

│ │ │damp │

│ │ │surrounding│

│ │ │sand and │

│ │ │prevent │

│ │ │walls │

│ │ │falling in.│

Jan. │340 metres │Dunes wide, │ │

30th │ │flat-backed │ │

│ │and rolling.│ │

│ │A few │ │

│ │ridges. │ │

│ │Probable │ │

│ │continuation│ │

│ │of dunes │ │

│ │between │ │

│ │Zieghen and │ │

│ │Gedel Fadil,│ │

│ │which join │ │

│ │the Buseima │ │

│ │dunes. │ │

Jan. │ │Dunes for 12│ │

31st │ │kils., then │ │

│ │uneven, │ │

│ │stony │ │

│ │country. │ │

│ │Milling │ │

│ │stones │ │

│ │occasionally│ │

│ │found. │ │

│ │Mehemsa │ │

│ │dunes seen │ │

│ │half-day │ │

│ │away N. E. │ │

Feb. │280 metres │Mehemsa—two │ │

1st │ │stretches │ │

│ │“hattab” │ │

│ │between │ │

│ │large dunes │ │

│ │running S. │ │

│ │W. to N. E. │ │

│ │Empty │ │

│ │cisterns. │ │

Feb. │ │Flat, │ │

2nd │ │unbroken │ │

│ │fawn sand. │ │

│ │Minute │ │

│ │pebbles. No │ │

│ │vegetation. │ │

Feb. │ Aneroid │Do. │ │

3rd │ stolen. │ │ │

Feb. │ Heights │Do. │ │

4th │were taken │ │ │

│ from │ │ │

Feb. │ highest │Mazul dunes │ │

5th │points near│visible W. │ │

│ camping │10 a.m. │ │

│ ground. │Entered N. │ │

│ │dunes 4 p.m.│ │

Feb. │ │Large dune │ │

6th │ │ridges N. to│ │

│ │S. Flat │ │

│ │stretches │ │

│ │between. Dry│ │

│ │“hattab.” │ │

Feb. │ │Dunes closer│ │

7th │ │together. │ │

│ │Occasional │ │

│ │green │ │

│ │“hattab.” │ │

Feb. │ │Dunes with │ │

8th │ │green │ │

│ │“hattab” │ │

Feb. │ │Dunes. Much │Bu Salama │

9th │ │“hattab,” │Hatia, much│

│ │patches │brushwood │

│ │black stones│and fodder.│

│ │and grey │Filled-in │

│ │rocks. │well. │

│ │Hatias Bu │ │

│ │Alia 4.30 │ │

│ │p.m., and Bu│ │

│ │Salama 5.30 │ │

│ │p.m. Garet │ │

│ │el Mahdi, │ │

│ │large rock │ │

│ │at E. end of│ │

│ │Bu Alia. │ │

Feb. │ Grey │Arrived │Large zawia│

10th │ sandstone │Jaghabub │of Sidi es │

│ gherds. │ │Senussi │

│ Uneven, │ │with his │

│ rocky │ │qubba and │

│ country. │ │the qubbas │

│ Hatia Bu │ │of his │

│Battal with│ │family. │

│vegetation,│ │ │

│ 11 a.m. │ │ │

Feb. │ Circular │Wells in │Large │

11th │ Wadi of │Jaghabub │mosque. │

│ Jaghabub. │Wadi │Colleges │

│ │ │and │

│ │ │lodging- │

│ │ │houses for │

│ │ │200 │

│ │ │students. │

Feb. │ Scattered │brackish and│Post of │

12th │ palms. │water near │Sheikh el │

│Cultivation│surface. │Zawia │

│ below │System of │filled by │

│ zawia. │irrigation │Imam Sidi │

│ Massive │with │el Fagih. │

│blocks and │reservoirs │ │

│ cliffs of │and │ │

│sandstone. │artificial │ │

│ │channels in │ │

│ │gardens. │ │

Feb. │ │ │ │

13th │ │ │ │

──────┴───────────┴────────────┴───────────┴───────────

_For Notes see page 322._

NOTES TO ROUTE HISTORY

NOTE A.—The three little hillocks of sand, Kelb el Metemma, Hameimat and

el Mazul, should not be taken as definite landmarks, as there is much

discussion among the Beduin as to their exact identity and situation.

NOTE B.—The Oasis of Jedabia is inhabited by the Mogharba tribe, with a

few Zouias, that of Aujela by the Aujela tribe, that of Jalo by the

Mojabra, and those of Taiserbo, Buseima, Ribiana and Kufara by the Zouia

with a sprinkling of Tebu. At Zuetina are the Fawakher, and at Solluk

and Ghemines the Auwaghir.

It is estimated that the population of Kufara and Buseima is about 3,000

Zouias and 100 to 150 Tebu. In addition to these there are large numbers

of negroid slaves from Wadai and Darfur. In Jaghabub there is no tribe.

It is a religious centre of the Senussi ekhwan.

NOTE C.—The mileage recorded is the actual distance marched.

Occasionally in dune country it was necessary to make a small détour

which would reduce the distance traversed in a straight line on the map.

NOTE D.—Our failure to reach Taiserbo on the southern journey was partly

due to the fact that we failed to allow for the variation between the

Magnetic North and the True North, while we probably over-estimated the

distance marched. At the same time, as may be seen by comparing the map

published in this book and the 2 million Egyptian Survey printed 1912

and reprinted 1915, we walked through the green cultivated area and

passed Kusebeya as charted in the latter, without finding any signs of

Taiserbo. Our compass traverse showed an error of 20 miles in the final

closure on Jaghabub. The total distance travelled, exclusive of the ride

round Kufara Wadi, was 1,009 miles, so the error of 2 per cent. was

distributed throughout the whole journey.

APPENDIX B

NOTES ON THE HISTORY OF THE SENUSSI CONFRATERNITY

SIDI MOHAMMED BEN ALI ES SENUSSI was born near Mastaghanem in Algeria in

1787. He was of the Ulad Sidi Yusuf, Berbers, yet descendants of the

prophet through Idris, founder of the Moroccan dynasty. It is generally

supposed that the grandfather of Ben Ali derived his name from a holy

man who died in 1490—Sidi Mohammed ben Yusuf ben Amr ben Shat es Senussi

of the Beni Snus—but it has also been stated that it referred merely to

the Gebel Snus where his family lived. Mohammed Ben Ali, having

quarrelled seriously with a cousin, went to Fez in 1821 and studied at

the famous Karuim University. Morocco in those days was the birthplace

of many religious confraternities and, during the seven or eight years

he spent there, Ben Ali joined those of el Gadria, esh Shadelia, ej

Yazula, en Nasria and ed Dergania, while at the same time he seems to

have won some renown as an ascetic who wished to amalgamate every Moslem

sect on a basis of a pure and simple Islam in strict conformity with the

teachings of the Koran, but shorn of every modern digression and

addition.

Mulai Suleiman, Emperor of Morocco, offered him preferment, but he

refused it and, returning to Algeria in 1829, he taught grammar and

jurisprudence at Laquat. At Mesad he married a woman of the Beni Tuaba,

a gift from the faithful, which would prove that already he had gathered

a certain number of disciples. He left Algeria on the eve of the French

occupation and, undoubtedly, his fanaticism was strengthened by the

sight of his native land in the hands of unbelievers, for, though

technically Turks and Christians were equally condemned by his teaching,

he reserved his fiercest hatred for the latter.

Having divorced his wife at Bu Saada, he wandered along North Africa

preaching his mystic doctrine of a purer Islam till he reached Cairo,

where he proposed to continue his studies at the El Azhar University.

Here, however, his asceticism, intolerance and hatred of innovation made

him many enemies among the Ulema and, in 1831, his teachings were

solemnly condemned by the Sheikh el Hamish, a noted Alim.

He therefore went on to Mecca where he became the pupil of a famous

theologian, Sidi Ahmed ibn Idris el Fasi, head of the confraternity of

El Khadria, of much influence in Morocco. Here at last Sidi Ben Ali

found a mind akin to his own. Master and pupil travelled together to the

Yemen, during which missionary journey the former died, having left

instructions to his followers to transfer their allegiance to his

favourite pupil, who thus found himself the head of a definite group of

fervent ascetics—the Tarika el Mohammedia. His teachings met with their

greatest success among the Beduin tribes of the Hejaz and the Yemen, for

many of the Meccan townsmen preferred to follow another pupil of Idris,

one Mohammed ibn Osman el Mirgani, Sherif. Sidi Ben Ali, therefore,

having founded his first zawia at Jebel Abu Cobais made a second journey

to the Yemen where he came in touch with the Wahabis, a puritanical

confraternity founded in 1746. At all times his hatred of Christian and

Turks alike, his opposition to the modern spirit of compromise, appealed

more to the nomad tribesmen than to the settled inhabitants of the

towns.

Therefore, when the opposition of the older sheikhs, who expressed doubt

as to his orthodoxy, forced him to leave Mecca in 1838, he definitely

formulated his policy of keeping away from centres of civilisation, and

thus avoiding contact with those countries which were under European

rule or protection, while uniting the various Beduin tribes in an

immense religious organisation which should eventually include the

negroid races of the south and stretch in an unbroken line from the

Hejaz to the Tuat Oases.

Passing through Cairo, he went to Siwa, where he was ill with fever for

eight months, to Jalo, and to Skekherra where he first came in touch

with the Zouias, who were destined to play such a large part in his

scheme for the regeneration and the unity of Islam, for this warrior

tribe was feared throughout the Northern Deserts, and, having conquered

the Tebu in the oases of Taiserbo and Kufara, they were a possible link

with Darfur and Wadai.

In 1844 the first African zawia was founded at El Beda in the Gebel

Akhdar, where Ben Ali’s eldest son was born the following year, and from

it the ekhwan (brothers of the Order) went throughout Cyrenaica and

Tripoli, the Fezzan and even as far south as Tibesti, founding zawias

and preaching the doctrine of their leader.

The Senussi are sometimes wrongly spoken of as a sect, but at no time

have they been other than an ascetic confraternity, opposed to all forms

of luxury or of ceremonial, intolerant of any intercourse with Jew,

Christian or infidel. Since spiritual and temporal power in Islam are

inevitably synonymous, Sidi Ben Ali, towards the end of his life, was

looked upon as the actual ruler of the Cyrenaican hinterland, but his

aim probably did not go further than a Moslem Freemasonry, primarily

religious but depending for its wealth and political power on the

mercantile organisation of the ancient Saharan trade-routes by which the

commerce of the Sudan came north to the Mediterranean ports. Thus his

zawias were always built at strategic points where passing caravans must

stop at the wells. While camels were watered, the merchants were

entertained by the Senussi sheikh, who was thus afforded the best

possible opportunity for propaganda. The zawias, which were colleges and

marts at the same time, gave three days’ hospitality free to any

traveller and, gradually, as the fame of the Senussi spread among the

tribes, ekhwan were appointed to accompany the more important caravans

to prevent attacks from Beduins. Thus the doctrine of Sidi Ben Ali was

eventually carried to Kanem and Borku, to the Comalis and Senegambia

without the existence of any written dogma. There is, in fact, no

special Senussi ritual, nor have I heard any unusual prayer or rite used

in their mosques. The use of gold or jewels or any form of luxury was

forbidden, as were tobacco and alcoholic stimulants.

The fundamental ideas of the brotherhood were equality, simplicity, and

complete detachment from all outside influence. The sheikhs of the

zawias had considerable temporal power because Sidi Ben Ali’s appeal was

primarily to the Beduin, who were encouraged to bring their disputes to

be settled at the nearest zawia, but they were also responsible for

education and to this day a diploma of learning from Jaghabub or Kufara

is highly valued in the Moslem world.

In 1852 Sidi Ben Ali returned to Mecca where he was able to disseminate

his doctrine among pilgrims from all parts of the world and where he met

Agil the Zouia.

II

Having founded six zawias in the Hejaz and Jedda, he returned via Egypt

and Akaba to Ezziat, where he remained till 1855; thence he sent ekhwan

to build the zawia at Jaghabub. Doubtless this was a precautionary

measure in accordance with his habitual policy of avoiding any open

conflict with existing governments, for Turkey was growing nervous with

regard to the Senussi power in North Africa. At first she had supported

the order, according it important privileges such as grants of land and

exemption of the zawias from taxation. Sidi Ben Ali, however, was not to

be won over from his condemnation of Turkish unorthodoxy and in 1852 he

had excommunicated the Sultan. It was therefore obviously necessary for

him to remove his headquarters from the territory nominally under

Ottoman jurisdiction. He went to Jaghabub in 1856 and, according to

Duveyrier, he made the small and uninteresting oasis into an important

centre of political and mercantile activity. A deputation of Zouias

headed by Abdel Kerim Helayig, Jaballa and Agil visited him there

offering the allegiance of the tribe. Sidi Ben Ali must have realised

the strategical importance of Kufara as a base of propaganda from the

Sudan to Lake Chad, for he instantly despatched four ekhwan to

disseminate his doctrines throughout the four oases. The letter written

at this time to Wajanga, of which the interpretation is given in

Appendix D, page 338, is typical of his missionary methods.

It is probable that Sidi Ben Ali contemplated a further withdrawal from

the zone of Turkish activity for he caused two zawias to be built near

Ghadames, but his death in 1859 occurred suddenly at Jaghabub.

His two sons Mohammed el Mahdi and Mohammed es Sherif were aged 16 and

14 respectively, so most of the ekhwan were in favour of electing Sidi

Abed el Ali Ibn Ahmed Ibn Idris el Fasi as their head. A decision was

finally made in favour of Mohammed el Mahdi because it was remembered

that Sidi Ben Ali had once bidden his eldest son resume his shoes upon

entering a mosque, himself handing the boy the slippers he had put off,

which menial act was interpreted to mean that he had already chosen him

as his successor.

An ancient prophecy foretold that the Mahdi who would reconquer the

world for Islam would attain his majority on the first day of Moharram

in 1300 Hegire, having been born of parents named Mohammed and Fatma,

and having spent several years in seclusion.

On November 12, 1882, after a minority spent in the charge of Sidi Omran

and Sidi Ahmed er Rifi, who afterwards remained his most valued

counsellor, the son of Sidi Ben Ali fulfilled all these conditions.

At this time there were 38 zawias in Cyrenaica and Syrte and 18 in

Tripolitania. Others were sown broadcast through Algeria, Tunis and

Fezzan, but in Morocco there were only five, probably due to the

opposition of another great religious order, the Moulai Tayyeb. By way

of the Western Sahara and Timbuctoo, where they built a zawia, the

Senussi ekhwan had penetrated to Senegal where they must have found

fertile soil for their doctrine, as in 1879 Senegalise pilgrims

travelled 4,500 kilometres across Africa to visit the Mahdi at Jaghabub

and returned to their own country without troubling to continue the

journey to Mecca. From Air to Gonda, from Lake Chad to Wajanga, as well

as among the three millions in Wadai, it may be supposed that the

Senussi influence was preponderant.

The Sultan of Wadai had been wont to entrust his north-bound caravans to

the care of his “brother and fellow-ruler,” Sidi Ben Ali, and immense

gifts of slaves and ivory cemented the friendship between the two

potentates.

In Egypt the influence of the confraternity was never very strong,

though, in 1882, there were 17 zawias within its borders, exclusive of

the mother house of Jaghabub. At the same date there were zawias at

Jedda, Mecca and Taif and at least nine others in the Hejaz and Yemen.

Duveyrier estimates the number of brothers of the Order as anything

between 1,500,000 and 3,000,000 at the time when the Mahdi’s minority

was ended. Each of these ekhwan was a more or less active missionary

agent and each was ready, at the bidding of his superiors, to turn

himself into a soldier to fight the hated infidel. Thus the power given

into the hands of the young Mohammed el Mahdi was great. He might have

declared a Holy War and had as amazing and meteoric a career as the

humble carpenter of Abba Island in the Nile, but he preferred to

strengthen his position at Jaghabub and to carry on his father’s policy

of holding aloof from centres of civilisation and avoiding all open

rupture with European Powers. Doubtless Sidi Ben Ali was responsible for

the stubborn resistance of Laghuat in Algeria in 1852 under Mohammed ibn

Abed-Allah, who had joined the confraternity on a pilgrimage to Mecca,

as well as for much of the opposition to the French occupation of

Nigeria and Senegambia. It is possible that the Mahdi had in view, if

not an empire, at least a sphere of influence among the negroid races

between Wadai and Lake Chad, for which reason he was prepared secretly

to oppose the French penetration of Nigeria, but, in his withdrawal to

Kufara in 1894, is seen his determination to avoid any declared

hostility.

Mohammed el Mahdi was the great figure of the confraternity, and under

his rule the Senussi attained the zenith of their power. Since the

acceptance of his tenets meant the payment of tithes, the leader of the

confraternity had by this time considerable wealth at his disposal.

Having established a profitable trade in slaves and arms between south

and north, he also possessed the nucleus of a negroid army, yet the

Mahdi aimed at peaceful penetration rather than at military occupation.

His zawias were neutral meeting-places where difficulties—tribal,

commercial, legal or religious—could be settled by an unbiassed

authority. His ekhwan were judges as well as missionaries. They defined

tribal areas, settled water and grazing rights, as well as meting out

the justice of the Koran to those who infringed the code of Islam.

In view of the undoubted influence and prestige of such a confraternity,

it is not to be wondered at that wholly exaggerated ideas of its

importance were brought to Europe by rare travellers who, impressed by

the dangers they had escaped from, overlooked the fact that the Order

must necessarily lack cohesion, disseminated as it was through countries

differing in race, tongue, custom and form of government and hemmed in

on every side by gradually encroaching European Powers.

During the 13 years of his rule at Jaghabub the Mahdi resolutely held

aloof from the spirit of revolt which animated the Moslem world.

When the Sudanese Mahdi sent a deputation to ask for his help in driving

the English from Egypt in 1884, he replied, “Tell your master we have

nothing to do with him. He must write to us no more for his way is

wrong. We cannot reply to his letter.”

His move to Kufara isolated him in an almost impregnable position where

he could command the trade routes of half a continent. His chief

counsellors were his old tutor Ahmed er Rifi, his brother Mohammed es

Sherif and Mohammed ibn Hassan el Baskari. His nephew Mohammed el Abed

was left as wakil at Jaghabub.

Kufara under the rule of the Zouias had been the most noted centre of

brigandage in the Sahara. Sidi el Mahdi substituted a regular system of

Customs duty on all merchandise passing through.

He built the towns of Jof and Taj, each with a large zawia, and in the

course of a few years developed the oasis into an entirely self-

supporting centre of civilisation and the headquarters of the

confraternity, visited by large numbers of “Brethren” from all parts of

Africa.

Nevertheless he had to acknowledge that, temporarily, the north offered

no further field of expansion for his teachings. Any trial of strength

with France, Turkey or Egypt could have but one issue. Therefore he

concentrated his energies on Borku, Wadai, Kanem and the Western Sudan.

He sent his ekhwan throughout these districts with instructions to

settle disputes between the tribes, thus inducing them to acknowledge

Senussi authority and to build zawias in such places as would control

the wells and markets. Intending to follow in the wake of his disciples,

he left Kufara in August, 1899, after receiving a deputation from Ali

Dinar expressing the Sultan of Darfur’s devotion to the Order. After 63

days’ travelling by slow stages, he reached Ghiru, from where he

directed the opposition to French penetration from Lake Chad.

This step was notable because it was in direct contravention of the

policy initiated by Sidi Ben Ali and previously adhered to by the Mahdi.

At no time a military power, the Senussi depended for their wealth and

influence on the stability of their mercantile organisation.

The French were the first Europeans who seriously imperilled their

profitable trade in slaves and arms. The former merchandise came from

Constantinople and was disembarked at Tobruk or Benghazi.

Since its principal markets were between Darfur and Kanem it was

essential that France should not advance farther towards Wadai. Tuareg

rebels, flying north from French Nigeria, came in touch with Sidi el

Barrani at Kanem, were converted to the Senussi tenets, and joined with

Arabs from Kufara in fortifying the zawia at Bir Allahi.

The victory of Zugiba on August 23, 1901, relieved the French from

further pressure from the south and they were able to establish

themselves firmly at Massacori. An advance party, however, was attacked

and defeated by Tuaregs from Bir Allahi and this zawia remained a centre

of opposition until it was taken in January, 1902.

By this open aggression Sidi el Mahdi apparently pledged himself to a

definite campaign against France, yet he had no regular army. His policy

was to unite the tribes against the Christian, himself supplying arms,

ammunition and money. Borku was virtually under his rule. He had a wazir

in Wadai and zawias in Nigeria and the Cameroons.

Mohammed es Sunni, one of the most famous Senussi ekhwan, who had

undertaken many missionary journeys in the Sudan and West Africa, was

adviser to the Sultan of Wadai, for whom he had obtained the financial

support of the Tripolitanian merchants.

The sudden death of the Mahdi, however, on June 1st, 1902, removed the

motive force of the order. As his sons were then minors at school at

Jaghabub, his nephew Sayed Ahmed es Sherif was nominated as his

successor.

The new Sheikh es Senussi remained at Ghiru, from where he continued to

oppose the French advance, till a bad defeat in December, 1902, decided

him to retire to Kufara.

For some years he moved his headquarters between this oasis and Jaghabub

so that he was able to keep in touch with his northern zawias without

relinquishing the hold gained by the Mahdi on the negroid races of the

south.

Since the Anglo-French Treaty of 1904 ceded the Zinder-Chad route to

France, the advance of the latter power has inevitably involved the ebb

of the Senussi influence throughout the occupied districts.

The Ulad Suleiman tribes, who had been among the strongest adherents of

the Mahdi, submitted in 1905.

The following year Bilma was occupied in spite of determined attacks by

Tuaregs and Kufara Arabs.

In March, 1907, the principal zawia in Borku, Ain Malakka, was captured

and its sheikh, Sidi el Barrani, the virtual ruler of Borku, killed.

In June, 1909, Abeshe, the capital of Wadai, was entered.

Turkish troops occupied Tibesti in May, 1910, and Borku in September,

1911, but were recalled at the outbreak of the Turco-Italian war in

1912, leaving the Senussi free to continue the propaganda that was

finally put an end to by the French advance into Tibesti and Borku, in

the winter of 1913–1914.

Meanwhile, Cyrenaica and Tripoli having been acknowledged an Italian

sphere of influence, Sayed Ahmed was fully occupied in the north.

When the Italians landed in Libya in 1911, there existed a kingdom

within a kingdom and the Turks were only masters in name. They were

almost as much despised as the Christians by the ascetic confraternity

of Sidi Ben Ali, who held themselves entirely aloof from the Ottoman

Government.

Therefore when Sayed Ahmed definitely allied himself with Turkey, he

departed from the fundamental principle of his Order. He was persuaded

by Enver Pasha to allow the tribes to take part, under Turkish

leadership, in the long-drawn-out guerilla warfare which was so

successfully carried out that, in 1914, Italy was left in possession of

the coast towns of Tripoli and Cyrenaica only, while the interior was in

the hands of the Senussi.

This material success was counter-balanced, however, by the dissolution

of Senussi entity. The principle of religious detachment for which the

Order had originally stood had disappeared and the confraternity had

resolved itself into a political weapon in the hands of Turkey. From

this standpoint it was but a short step to the declaration of war

against Egypt.

At no period was Sayed Ahmed really anti-British, because he knew that

Britain had no interests to serve in Libya. Moreover, she facilitated

his trade with Egypt, a vital point for the welfare of the Beduins, for

the Cyrenaican ports were already closed to them.

Mannismann and Nouri Pasha, respectively German and Turkish agents,

provided arms, ammunition and money, while holding before the Senussi

sheikh the idea that the Egyptian Beduins would all join him, and that

he would be the ruler of Egypt, yet, in spite of Teuton organisation and

of a widely preached Jehad, it is doubtful if the Senussi could ever

have put in the field more than 4,000 men.

Sayed Ahmed established his headquarters at Bir Waer and the Egyptian

Coastguards, under Mohammed Saleh, were persuaded by religious

fanaticism to join him.

Jaafer Pasha, a keen and capable soldier, an Arab from Baghdad, trained

in German methods, was in command of the Senussi troops.

The _Tara_ was sunk on November 5, 1915, and her crew sent as prisoners

to the desert.

Sollum, under the command of Colonel Snow Bey, of the Egyptian

Coastguards, was evacuated in the same month, and as the garrison went

down the coast in a cruiser, they could see Sidi Barrani in flames.

British Headquarters were established at Mersa Matruh and in December

the outlying garrisons were collected there.

Colonel Snow Bey, whose name with that of Major Royle Bey is famous

throughout the Western Desert, was shot in a reconnaissance on November

11.

On Christmas Eve the Senussi were defeated at Medwa and on December 29

at Jerawla, but the first decisive battle was at Halazin, where Sayed

Ahmed had gathered his main force.

On January 23 he was attacked with complete success, and forced to

retreat precipitately towards Sollum, leaving 700 dead on the field.

A further victory on February 26 at Agazia resulted in the capture of

Jaafer Pasha and the flight of Sayed Ahmed, with the subsequent opening

of the road to Sollum, which was occupied on March 14.

The following day the Duke of Westminster made his famous dash to Bir

Hakim on the Tobruk-Jaghabub route, some 60 miles inland, and 120 from

Sollum, to rescue the _Tara_ prisoners.

Sayed Ahmed retired through Siwa to Dakhla, while the remaining portion

of his force went to Baharia. Kharga was immediately evacuated by the

British and then, with a successful army occupying the post, a beaten

enemy practically cut off from all supplies in two isolated desert

oases, a disaffected and half-starved Cyrenaica, heartily tired of its

ruler’s policy and already turning to Mohammed Idris, whose pro-British

attitude was obvious from the beginning, was initiated the scheme for

fortifying Egypt at an expense of some 60 million sterling against a foe

who numbered perhaps 2,000.

The three armed camps of the Ulad Ali which lay behind the British line

from Matruh were rapidly disposed of, but the whole summer of 1916 was

spent in fortifying the line of the Nile Valley and in October the

Senussi were driven out of Dakhla and Baharia by Camel Corps and Light

Car Patrols. Sayed Ahmed retired through Farafra to Siwa, where he had

left Mohammed Saleh in command.

In February, 1917, after a sharp engagement at Girba, where, east of

Munasib Pass, some 20 armoured cars sustained a 24 hours’ enfilade from

800 Senussi hidden in the rocks above them, the latter were finally

driven out of Egyptian Territory.

For 18 months Sayed Ahmed spent a precarious existence in the hinterland

of Cyrenaica and, in August, 1918, retired to Constantinople by

submarine.

Meanwhile, in 1916, an Anglo-British Mission under General (then

Colonel) the Marchese di Vita and Colonel Talbot had approached Sidi

Mohammed Idris es Senussi at Tobruk and Zuetina with a view to arranging

a _modus vivendi_ in Cyrenaica.

Sayed Idris had taken no part in his cousin’s campaign against Egypt. On

the contrary, he threw all his influence as the son of Mahdi into the

opposing scale.

As soon as Sayed Ahmed decided to attack, the younger Senussi retired,

with his brother Sayed Rida, to Jedabia, writing to General Maxwell to

say that he did not support his cousin’s policy. He continued firmly in

this course, though when Sayed Ahmed was defeated Mannismann came west

with some Turks and Egyptian Coastguards to try and persuade him to

continue the war. Sayed Idris refused, and Mannismann was killed on his

way to Tripoli, a journey he had undertaken in direct opposition to the

Senussi’s advice.

It was thus natural that both Cyrenaica and Italy should turn to the

eldest son of the Mahdi for help in the work of re-organisation,

necessitated by Sayed Ahmed’s disastrous policy.

A dual agreement was drawn up in 1917 between the British and Italian

Governments on the one side and Sayed Mohammed Idris, as the head of the

confraternity, on the other, by which it was agreed that:—

(A) The Italian Government will retain the coast towns, and certain

already occupied posts a short distance inland, but will create no new

posts.

(B) Commerce is to be unrestricted between the interior and Benghazi,

Tobruk and Derna.

(C) Courts according to Sharia Law and schools for the education of

natives will be built and maintained by the Italians who will also

restore zawias and zawia property not still required for military

purposes and be responsible for the salaries of sheikhs el zawia

appointed by Sidi Idris.

(D) Material assistance will be rendered to Mohammed Idris by the

Italian Government supplying him with arms, ammunition, equipment and

food for a limited number of men. For the moment 4,000 is the number

fixed. These are to be used partly against the enemy and partly for

the purpose of maintaining public security in the interior of

Cyrenaica.

(E) Personal allowances to certain members of the Senussi family are

to be paid monthly.

(F) In return for this, Mohammed Idris will make himself responsible

for the maintenance of peace in the interior, but will form no new

posts, will gradually disarm the population, will place no obstacles

in the way of the Italian Government for the forcible disarmament of

hostile groups, will allow Italian delegates to enter the interior for

the settlement of affairs with his local representative while the

Italian Government may at any time send a representative to discuss

matters with him in person.

Since then an excellent understanding has been arrived at, chiefly owing

to the personal influence of H. E. The Governor of Cyrenaica, Senator de

Martino and Sayed Mohammed Idris under which Cyrenaica bids fair to have

a prosperous commercial and agricultural future.

By the accord of Regima in November, 1920, Italy and the Senussi

ratified the Italo-British Agreement before quoted.

Sayed Idris was given the hereditary title of Emir with jurisdiction as

“an independent ruler on behalf of Italy” over the oases of Kufara,

Jaghabub, Jalo, Aujela and Jedabia. He is to disband his “karakols” and

armed camps in Cyrenaica, and the Italians are to find employment for

the men thus left without work in a regular police force. The terms of

the new Constitution granted to Cyrenaica provide that five members, out

of the 44 constituting the Legislative Assembly, shall be elected from

the oases of the interior. It is expected that a port will be built at

Zuetina and that the trans-Saharan trade from Wadai and Darfur will pass

through Kufara, Jalo, and Jedabia on its way to this Mediterranean

outlet.

At the present moment Sayed Idris rules by means of kaimakaans at

Kufara, Jalo, Jaghabub, Jedabia, el Abiar, Takness, Merawa and Kholaf.

Under each kaimakaan is a _Qadi_ (judge), and a _Mahkama Sharia_

(Religious Court) consisting of two clerks, a _Mudir Amual_ (Head of the

Financial Department), a Treasurer and Clerk, and a _Mamur Tahsil_ (Head

Tax-collector).

The justice is that of the Koran and “Onshur”—a tenth part—is paid

yearly on palms and live-stock. Five per cent. Customs dues is levied on

all goods entering the Senussi country and a small sum on the sale of a

camel, sheep or goat, but it is expected that, in view of the friendly

relations at present existing between the Italian Government and the

Emir Idris, a system of customs will be organised to encourage trade

between the interior and the coastal districts. In the future it will be

interesting to observe in what direction the Senussi will develop.

The organisation has departed from the basic elements of its inception.

Begun as an isolated religious confraternity, it has expanded by way of

mercantile and political influence into a dynastic entity whose desire

for civilisation must necessarily force it along lines widely divergent

from those contemplated by its founder. It is certain that the Emir

Idris will have the whole-hearted support of the country in whatever

course he chooses to pursue, and with the present sympathetic co-

operation of the Italian Government it is probable that he will lead the

march of Arab progress in North Africa.

APPENDIX C

_Translation of Arab Document of the Welcome given at Buseima._

In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful.

On the blessed day of Friday, 28th Rabia eth Thani, 1339, there came to

our town Buseima, the honourable Ahmed Abu Mohammed Hassanein, the

Egyptian, son of Sheikh Mohammed Ahmed Hassanein el Bulaki, the

professor of the sacred Azhar and the lady Khadija and they are carrying

the orders of His Beatitude our Great Prince, Sayed Mohammed Idris, son

of Mohammed el Mahdi es Senussi. We met them with great honour and

hospitality and congratulated them on their safe arrival to us. We hoped

that God may be exalted, would grant success to their efforts, and

return them safe and victorious in the best conditions for the sake of

the Prophet, his friends and his family.

_Signed._

Mohammed Ali el Mardini

Saad Ibn Ahmed Faqrun

Yunis ibn Mahi

Suleiman ibn Khalid Faqrun

Omar Ibn el Gaid

Saleh Ibn Ahmed Faqrun

_Translation of Arab Document of Welcome given at Kufara (Taj)._

On the blessed day of Friday the 3rd of Jamad el Awal, 1339, there came

to our town in Kufara the honoured Ahmed Mohammed Hassanein Bey, the

Egyptian, son of Sheikh Mohammed Hassanein el Bulaki, professor of the

honoured Azhar and the lady Khadija. They were carrying the orders of

our great prince Sayed Mohammed Idris el Mahdi es Senussi and, according

to the exalted orders we met them with all honour and respect and

thanked God for their safe arrival to us, and hoping of Him their safe

return.

_Signed_:

The Second Adviser of Kufara, Ahmed es Sussi, May God forgive him.

The Judge, Osman el Barassi, May God forgive him.

The Adviser, Sayed Mohammed Ibn Omar el Fadhil, May God forgive him.

The Wakil of the Sayed at Kufara, Mohammed Saleh el Baskari, May God

guard him.

APPENDIX D

_Translation of original MS letter of Sidi Ben Ali es Senussi, founder

of the Senussi Confraternity, to the people of Wajanga. Seen in Kufara._

In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful, May God pray on our

master Mohammed, his family and his companions, and may He give them

peace!

It is from the chosen of his God, Mohammed ibn Ali ibn El Senussi El

Khatabi El Hassani El Idrissi to the noble and learned and brilliant

Sheikh Farag El Ginghawi and all the people of Wajanga, old and young,

male and female, may God save them all and give them their wish of this

world and the next! Amen.

Peace be upon you and the mercy of God, His blessings, His salutations,

His forgiveness and His approval.

Our intention and our wish is, first to enquire after you and all your

affairs, may God guide them and make them conform with His Book and the

tradition of His Prophet Mohammed.

Secondly, we wish to ask you in the name of Islam to obey God and His

Prophet. He, praise be to Him, said in His dear Book, “Oh, ye, who are

believers, obey God and obey the Prophet!” He also said, “He who obeys

the Prophet has also obeyed God.” He also said, “He who obeys God and

His Prophet has won a great victory.” He also said, “Those who obey God

and the Prophet, they are with the prophets whom God has rewarded.”

We wish to ask you to obey what God and His Prophet have ordered, making

the five prayers, keeping the month of Ramadan, giving tithe, making the

Haj to the sacred home of God and avoiding what God has forbidden, of

telling lies, abusing people behind their backs, taking unlawfully other

people’s money, drinking wine, killing people unlawfully, giving false

evidence and other things which God has forbidden.

In following these you will gain everlasting good and endless profits

which will never be taken from you.

Some men of your country had asked us to send with them some of our

ekhwan [brothers] in order to remind them of God and teach them what God

and his Prophet have ordained and guide them rightly. We decided to do

this because it is our profession [mission] for which God has put us,

i.e. to remind the negligent, teach the ignorant and guide him who has

gone astray. But at that time we were in the sacred “Haramain” [Mecca].

When we arrived in these parts we occupied ourselves with guiding the

people to the paths of God and we did not find anyone of your country

with whom to send those who would teach people this religion.

Now our sons of Zawaya, who are the inhabitants of Tazerr, which you

know, have come to us and repented and asked us to build a zawia at the

mentioned Tazerr.[6] Our intention is to become your neighbours and

teach you and your sons of the Book of God and the tradition his

Prophet, Mohammed. May God’s prayers and peace be on him! Also we intend

to make peace between you and the Arabs who invade you and take your

sons and your money. In doing this we will be enacting what God has

said, “If two parties of believers fight, make peace between them.” Also

his saying, “Fear God, make peace between one another and obey God and

His Prophet if you are believers.” He also said, “Give an order for alms

or a good deed or making peace between people. He who does this for the

sake of pleasing God will gain a great reward.”

Footnote 6:

Tazerr was the old name for Kufara.

In this way there will be co-operation for doing good and for piety, as

God has ordained by saying, “Co-operate for doing good and for piety and

do not co-operate for vice and assault.” The Prophet said, “People of

God, be brethren and help one another in religion.”

As to rebellion and dispute, no good comes out of them and God has

forbidden them in his dear Book by saying, “Do not dispute or you will

fail and be dispersed; be patient, for God is with the patient.”

Inshallah, if you obey our orders and accept our advice, then a few of

our sons will come to you to teach your sons the Book of God, and your

men the tradition and ways of His Prophet. You will then not fear anyone

and you will have much of God’s bounty and mercy, Inshallah.

Give our salutation and this letter of ours to all who are round you,

those who wish for the obedience of God and His Prophet and who wish to

follow the Book and the Tradition.

May God, may He be praised, make you of those who guide and who have

been guided and of those who point out what is good and who follow it!

May you remain in endless peace and health!

_Dated the fourth day of Moharren, 1266._

GLOSSARY

“_Adaryayan!_” A cry used when halting camels. “We have arrived, oh

sick ones.”

_Agal._ A rope used to tie a camel’s legs or the thick cords worn on

the head above the _kufiya_.

_Alaf._ A measure of fodder.

“_Allahu Akbar._” God is great.

“_Aselamu, Alaikum, Marhaba, Marhaba._” Greetings to you. Welcome!

“_Ash hadu illa Illaha ill Allah wa ash hadu inna Mohammed an rasul

Allah._” I confess there is no God but God, and I confess that

Mohammed is His Prophet.

_Asida._ Sticky mass of damp flour flavoured with onions or oil.

_Azzau._ The act of calling to prayer.

_Barracan._ A long cotton garment worn by the women.

_Basoor._ Camel saddle in which women travel.

_Bayid._ Far.

“_Beit esh shar._” Camel’s-hair tent.

“_Beit Ullah._” The house of God.

_Belad._ Village.

“_Bisilama._” With safety.

“_Bismillah._” By the name of God.

“_Bismillah arahman arahmim._” By the name of God the merciful and

compassionate.

_Burnus._ Arab garment.

_Ekhwan._ Brothers. Used colloquially in Libya to mean “a brother.”

“_El Fagr._” Dawn.

“_El Maktub Maktub._” What is written is written.

“_En nahs teyibin hena. Ana Mabsut._” The people are good here. I am

happy.

_Fadhling._ Sitting down and talking.

_Fanatis._ Tin water-carriers.

“_Fatha._” The first sura (chapter) of the Koran.

_Fatta._ An Arab dish of carrots, bread and eggs.

_Feisha._ A gourd used as a charm to keep a husband’s affection.

_Fil-fil._ Red pepper.

_Gara._ A tabular hill.

_Gebel._ A mountain.

_Gherds._ Dunes.

_Gibli._ Sand-laden south wind.

_Girba._ Dried goatskin water-carrier.

_Haji._ A man who has made the pilgrimage (Haj) to Mecca.

_Hajin._ Trotting camels.

“_Hamdulillah._” Thank God.

_Hamla._ Baggage camels.

_Hatia._ A depression containing brushwood.

_Hawia._ Baggage saddle.

“_Haya alla Salat! Haya alla falah._” The Moslem call to prayer.

_Hejab._ Charm.

_Hezaam._ Sash or belt.

_Hubz._ Bread.

“_Inshallah ma temut illa Islam._” If God wills (or I hope) you will

die a Moslem.

_Jaafa._ A large leather sack.

_Jelabia._ Wide native coat.

_Jerd._ Native garment—a strip of woollen or silk stuff.

_Jubba._ Arab under dress.

_Kaftan._ Long Arab inner coat.

_Kaimakaan._ Governor.

“_Keif halak?_” How are you?

“_Khallas._” Finished.

_Khoor._ Saddle-bag.

_Kibla._ The direction of prayer (towards Mecca).

_Kufiya._ Arab head-dress.

_Laghbi._ Fermented palm-juice.

Leaf = palm leaf.

_Ma-araka._ Skull cap.

“_Maasellam._” With safety.

“_Mabsut._” Happy.

_Madna._ Tower.

_Mamnum._ Grateful.

_Mandil._ Handkerchief.

“_Marhaba._” Welcome.

_Megliss._ Council.

_Mejidie._ A Turkish coin worth 3s. to 4s.

_Mihrab._ Praying-niche.

_Mimbar._ Pulpit.

_Morabit._ As an adjective “Holy.” As a noun “The tomb of a holy

person.”

“_Min da?_” Who is that?

_Naga._ A female camel.

“_Nahs Taibeen._” Good people.

_Nugga._ A Beduin tent.

_Oke._ A measure.

_Qubba._ A domed holy tomb.

_Qurush._ A small Turkish coin.

“_Raqa-at._” Positions or stages of prayer.

“_Rahmat Allah!_” The peace of God.

“_Rahmat ullahi Allahim._” “The peace of God be on him.”

_Sabakha._ A salt marsh.

“_Salamu aleikum wa Rahmab Allah._” Greetings to you and the peace of

Allah.

_Sederiya._ A short shirt.

_Serg._ A saddle.

_Shadouk._ Well.

_Shamadan._ A certain kind of wind-proof candlestick.

_Shehada._ The Moslem profession of faith, “There is no God but God,”

etc.

“_Shey latif._” A pleasant thing.

_Sitt._ Lady.

_Suq._ Market.

_Sura._ Chapter of Koran.

_Tobh._ Woman’s dress.

_Tukel._ Round hut.

“_Ulla-la een._” Women’s cry of rejoicing.

_Wakil._ Representative (steward or lieutenant-governor).

_Wazir._ Minister.

_Zawia._ College.

_Zeit._ Oil.

_Zemzimaya._ Felt-covered water-bottle.

INDEX

Abdel Salam, Haji, 22, 23

Abdil Rahman Bu Zetina, Sayed, 194

Abdul Kasim, Sheikh, 90, 92, 94

Abdul Rahim (_see_ Rahim)

Abdullah Shekari, Sheikh, 204

Abdullah, a famous guide, 96, 97, 98, 103

a quarrel with Mohammed, 248

a re-echo of, 243

author “relieved of,” 195

complete demoralisation of, 138

cunning treachery of, x, 181 _et seq._

his fear of the Bazamas, 172

his route to Taiserbo, 126 _et seq._

meets author in the Holy Place, 193

misses his way, 134 _et seq._

over-reaches himself, 185

secures permission to camp in Buseima, 148

visits his relations, 161

Abdullahi Sahabi, qubba of, 95

Abed, Sidi el, hospitality of, 223 _et seq._

Abid Auwaghir tribe, the, 206

Abidat tribe, the, 206

Abu Bakr, Sheikh of Ribiana, 236

Abu Bekr Manfi, and Hassanein’s accident, 302 _et seq._

succeeds Mohammed as guide, 300, 301

“Abu fasada” of Egypt, the, 160, 235

Abyssinian soldiers, fantastic dance of, 5

Agaling camels: a saying of the Prophet, 272

Agil, 204, 205

Ahmed Bey Hassanein (_see_ Hassanein)

Ahmed Effendi, 94

Ahmed el Khadri, 220

Ahmed es Senussi, Sayed, a last blessing from, 245

photographed by author, 240

Ahmed es Sherif, Sayed, 9, 16, 18, 109, 197

caravans across a new route, 262

influence of, 226

orders emigration of Madeni to Taiserbo, 158

Ahmed, Sidi, 119

Ahmed, Sultan, his route to Kufara, 92

Ain Jelelat, 157

Ain Talib, 157

Ait Anira tribe, 150

Alexandria, reached by author, 308

Ali Basha el Abdya, General, 3

Ali Dinar, Sultan of Darfur, 39

Amar, a feat of endurance by, 280

ill with fever, 285

kills and eats a sand mouse, 259

Mohammed’s follower, 248, 251, 256

Antelat, 27

Arab hospitality, laws of, 245

outstanding instances of, 11, 198, 223 _et seq._, 230

Arab love of secrecy, 70

Arabs, European policy towards, 63

how British prestige has dwindled among, 111

responsive sympathy of, 300

their distrust and suspicion of strangers, 204, 206

their estimate of gold, 166

tiffs with the Sudanese, 130, 135, 151

(_see also_ Senussi)

Arida, 80

Asayad, zawia of, a visit to, 214

“Asida,” and of what it is composed, 261

Aujela, 19, 88

author’s reception in, 94 _et seq._

ekhwan in, 94

Aulad Bu Hassan, 151

Auwaghirs, an encampment of, 1

horsemanship of, 7

Awardel, 247

Badr, Sheikh, 206, 207

Bahet Hafan, 292

Ball, Dr., Director of Desert Surveys of Egypt, xii

Barca, 213, 229

Basha el Ghariam, Sharuf, 4

Bashar, blind poet of Aleppo, 84

Bazama family, plots of, x, 163, 164, 165

Bazama, Hasan, 240

Bazama, Husein, 240

Beduin, feminine attire described, 44

idea of “comfort,” 231, 234

ignorance of distance, 84

protest against author’s visit, 93

Beduins, and the continued existence of the Mahdi, 167, 215

appetites of, 52

fanaticism of, 56

fatalism of, 254

friction with the blacks, 124

hospitality of, 71

loyalty of, 62

Sidi Idris and the, 110

simple life of, 84

their fear of black slaves, 81

tribute to generosity of, 36

Ben Ali es Senussi, Sidi, 151, 204

home of, 293

important historical letter from, 221, 338–340

Benghazi, 1, 2

death of Korayim at, 18

_en fête_, 5

festas at, 2

Government House at, 2

hospitality at, 18

in suspense at, 19

Rohlfs’ escape to, 149

sale of ivory in, 109

Bir Mareg, 80

Bir Msus, 87

Bir Nasrani, 149, 155

Bir Rassam, 73

wells of, 74

“Black bears,” the, 130

Boema, 17, 158, 192

a visit to, 210

Boema-Farafra route, the, 254

Bornu, 119

Brahsa tribe, the, 206

British prestige, loss of, 111

Bu Alia, 288, 289

Bu Badr, Sheikh Mansur, ix, 176, 181, 183, 184

“Bucksumat,” definition of, 274

Bu Fadil, 195

Bu Gemira, Sidi Yadem, 295

Bu Guettin, Bukr, 17, 149

Bu Hassan, 151

Bu Helayig, Mabruk, 206

Bu Korayim, Hamid, 149, 206, 207, 217

Buma, 192, 210, 211

stories of Rohlfs’ adventures told at, ix

Bu Matar, Sheikh (_see_ Suleiman Bu Matar)

Bu Regea, Sheikh, ix, 149, 150, 156, 162

Burton, Sir Richard, a truism of, 48

Bu Salama, 288, 291

Buseima, 15

dates of, 157

described, 154

dislike of strangers in, 159

enmity of, 163

fearsome tales of the Zouias of, 143

“gara” of, in sight, 145

the charm of, 155

traces of Rohlfs’ journey at, ix

translation of Arab document of

welcome given at, 336–337

Zouia stronghold at, 91

Bush Naf el Ghadad, 177, 206

Buttafal, 15, 91, 120, 121

a time-honoured custom neglected at, 217

Bu Zetina, Sayed Abdil Rahman, 194

Camel, and sand grouse, story of a, 260

regular pace of a, 270

Camel Corps Patrol, a welcome, 306

Camels, a stampede of, 57, 274

effect of singing on, 79, 86, 145

how loaded, 51, 275

the first sign of thirst in, 285

their ninth day without water, 139

Caravans, task of loading, 115

Christmas in the desert, 112 _et seq._

Cleopatra’s asp, 235

Coti face powder, coveted by Omar, 96

“Couss-couss,” 200

Cyrenaica, 288

Agil offers allegiance of Zouias to the Senussi in, 205

capital of, 1

future of, 110

Governor of, receives author, ix (_see_ De Martino, Senator)

Italian control of, 19, 31

Dahwa, 157

Dakhla Desert, 16

“Darb,” definition of, 205

Dates, an Arab proverb regarding, 274

their various uses in Kufara, 234

De Martino, Senator, ix, 3, 18, 110

Desert, the, and the development of character, 129

call of, 300

Christmas in, 112 _et seq._

cities: a celebrated group of, 158

customs of, 65, 175

fatalism of, 68, 168, 254, 265

hospitable customs of nomads of, 65, 117

how news is carried in, 67

how “roads” are marked in, 54

illusiveness of distances in, 50

mirages in, 53, 134, 135, 137, 175, 277

moonlight in, 246

scent of, 4

subtle and cruel charm of, 58

wireless telegraphy system of, 25, 54, 58

Diranjedi, 17, 156

Di Vita, General, ix, 3

Drunkenness, punishment for, 153, 227

“Dune of Firepots,” the, 167

Dunes, elusive, 267, 268, 270 _et seq._

Durur, servant of Sidi Saleh, 223

Eagle, an, Yusuf’s story of, 266

East, the, fatalism of, 68, 168, 254, 265

heredity and, 194

hospitable customs of, 65, 117

Eastern Sahara, the, oases of, 15

Eckhart, 16

Egypt, destruction of Senussi zawias in, 109

vulnerable of attack, xi

Egyptian forts, xi

El Abd, 157

El Abed, Sidi, 194, 223

El Amra, a halt at, 301

El Atash, 140

El Erg, 99, 112

El Gumma, 239

El Harrash, 172

El Kasr, 91

El Wadi, 91, 157

Eritreans, 1

European policy towards Arabs, 63

Fadil, Jebail, 229

Fagil, Sidi el, Imam, 295

Faied tribe, the, 206

Faisul, Emir, 111

Faqrun, Maihub, 154, 156

Faqrun, Saleh, 154, 156, 163

Farafra, route to Kufara, 92

Farraj, 56, 59, 61, 81, 82, 151, 158, 166, 180

his mighty oath, 66

politeness of, in trying circumstances, 136

“Fatha,” the (opening sura of the Koran), as both blessing and oath, 27

Fawai tribe, 151

Feasts in the Holy Place, 185 _et seq._

Feisha, the, and its significance, 99

Festal sheep, sacrifice of, 156

Fetater, Haji, 26, 82, 163

Fezzan desert, 14

“Firepots, Dune of,” 167

Flea-hunting in Jedabia, 60

Forbes, Rosita (“Sitt Khadija”), a prisoner in earnest, 185 _et seq._

a risky snapshot in Kufara, 202

a shooting match with the Mojabras, 69

a terrible walk, 136

across the desert with She-ib, 64 _et seq._

an interrupted visit to Hawawiri, 180 _et seq._

an uncomfortable doze, 285, 286

an unforgettable picture, 273

and Haji Fetater, 26, 82, 163

and Hassanein’s accident, 302 _et seq._

at a dinner to the Emir, 3

bargains for festal sheep, 152

depressing Job’s comforters and, 229

discovers human skeletons, 169

dines with Sayed Rida, 12

dislocates her foot, 13, 49

dispenses medicine, 179, 247

draws sand maps at Taiserbo, 158

encounters a severe gibli, 116 _et seq._

end of her most unpleasant Christmas, 125

enters the dwelling of Sidi Idris, 194

enters the Holy Place, 193

fatalism of her retinue, 136 _et seq._

feasts in the Holy Place, 195 _et seq._

finds Rohlfs’ traces, ix, 149

first sight of Sidi Idris, 2

fitted for “strange garments,” 33

guest of Sayed Rida, 21 _et seq._

heavily veiled in Kufara, 197

her last Arabic blessing, 299

in Beduin feminine attire, 44, 54

invited to proceed to Kufara, 189

limited water supply and the consequence, 78

loses count of time, 225

makes herself understood in Libya, 278

pours oil on troubled waters, 130

rates Beduins and blacks, 151

received by Sayed Rida, 10 _et seq._

sees an original letter of Sidi Ben Ali es Senussi, 221 (for

translation _see_ pp. 338–340)

seventeen hours of torture, 232

starts for Jalo, 98

starts on the great adventure, 7 _et seq._

strikes the Jalo-Jaghabub route, 289

the Sahara gives up her secret, 191

through the mountains, 251 _et seq._

unravels a mystery, 164 _et seq._

visited by mother of Sheikh Musa, 179

Forth, Col., Commandant of Camel Corps, xi

Frontier Districts Administration, the, x, xi

a search party from, 306 _et seq._

Garboah Effendi, 108

Garu, Beduin tales of Sidi el Mahdi’s disappearance at, 167

Gebail Fadil, why so named, 229

Gebel Akhbar, 205, 288

Gebel Neri, 170 _et seq._

as landmarks, 236, 252

Gezira, 157

Gharibeel, Musa, ix, 176, 183, 184, 225

Ghawazi tribe, 151

Ghemines, 7

Gibli, a memorable, 116 _et seq._

definition of a, 60

Girba, 306

Hassanein treated at, 309

Girba, a, definition of, 90

Gold, usual exchange for, 229 (note)

Haballah el Abed, 150

Haifan, Tawati, 208

“Halfa,” definition of, 157

Hameida Bey Zeitun, 101, 105, 112, 163

Hamid Bu Korayim, 149, 206, 207, 217

Hasan Bazama, 240

Hassan tribe, the, 206

Hassanein Bey, accompanies author to Libyan Desert, viii, 6

an accident to, 302 _et seq._

an attack of rheumatism, 49, 50

as barber, 292

as watch-mender, 121

feasts in the Holy Place, 195

his yellow slippers, 22

illness of, 203

in dire straits, 135, 137

left to entertain ekhwan at Jaghabub, 295

made comfortable after his accident, 307

preparations for escape from Jedabia, 42

recovers a lost sardine in the sand, 281

speaks out, 182, 183

suspected of Pan-Islamic designs, 19, 28

thermos flask of, and Musa She-ib’s surprise, 78–9

travelling kit of, 6, 33, 44, 249

“Hattab,” definition of, 157, 175

Hauwa, the slave-girl, 117, 118, 121, 130, 184, 193

Hawaish, meaning of the word, 171

Hawaish mountains, 256 _et seq._, 267

the old-time name for, 170–1

Hawari, 15, 158

apologies for reception of author from, 225

construction of houses at, 176

loading camels at, 251

stories of Rohlfs’ adventures told at, ix

treachery at, 172 _et seq._

tribesmen of, interview author, 177

Hawari Gari, 174

farewell to, 252

Hawawiri, a visit to, 190

an interrupted visit to, 180

reached by Rohlfs, 17

Hejaz Kingdom, the, 110

Helaig, 204

Hilal, Sayed, his house at Lebba, 112

Hilal, Sidi, flees to Tobruk, 120

Hohsa tribe, the, 206

Hornemann on the people of Aujela, 174

Hubner, 16

Hunter, Brig.-Gen., xi

Husein Bazama, 240

Hussein, King, 111

Hussein, Sidi (wakil of Sidi Idris), 296

blesses the author, 299

Ibrahim, Sidi (son of Sayed Ahmed Sherif), 239

Ibrahim Bishari, Sheikh, 103, 104, 108, 110

Idris, Sidi, a dinner in honour of, 3 _et seq._

a personal letter from, x, 8, 67, 90, 101, 102 _et passim_

appearance of, 3

departs for Italy, 6

foreign policy of, 2, 31, 110, 227

gives his blessing to author, 4, 101

his house in the Holy Place, 194

unquestioning obedience of his followers, 5, 109, 205, 226–7, 291

Irak tree, the, and its uses, 205

Italians and Senussi ratify provisional treaty of 1916, 2, 31, 110

Italy, broad-minded policy of, 110

Ivory, a fifty per cent. profit on, 108

Jaghabub, death of Mohammed Ben Ali at, 14

described, 293

entry into, 294

freed slaves of, and their gardens, 293

Mohammed’s mission to, 292

route to Kufara, 92, 262

the college buildings, 298

university of, 293 _et seq._

visits to mosque of, 297, 298

Jalo, a start for, 98

departure from, 115

politics discussed at, 109 _et seq._

Rohlfs’ departure from, 16

routes from, to Kufara, 91

trade of, 108

triumphant arrival at, 88, 100 _et seq._

Jedabia, author watches a dance at, 39 _et seq._

beginning of the great adventure at, 1

escape from, 39 _et seq._

plans for flight from, 21 _et seq._

Jinns, elusive, 171, 301

Jof, 16, 158, 177, 192

a delayed messenger from, 181

a visit to, 218

exclusiveness of inhabitants of, 219

meaning of, 214

population of, 219

qubba of daughters of Sidi el Mahdi at, 219

return to, 237

the Kaimakaan of, and Abdullah, 185, 186

the market in, 213

Kalb el Metemma, 127

Kasr Diranjedi (El Wadi), 157

Kebabo, the Senussi in, 15

(_see also_ Kufara)

Keid el Adu (original name of the Hawaish mountains), 171

Khadija, Mohammed’s first wife, 197

“Khadija, Sitt,” Mohammedan name of author, 54

Kheima, The, 255

Koran, the, and man’s behaviour towards women, 71

as the code of justice, 227

Korayim, Abd Rabu, 17, 18, 149, 206, 207, 217

Kseba, 91

Kufara, a French prisoner of war in, 16

a gargantuan feast at, 198 _et seq._

absence of sugar in, 196

brigands of, 205

“cities” of, 203 _et seq._

commercial aspect of, 159

feasts in, 195 _et seq._

flora and fauna of the wadi, 235

gardens of, 212

prices in, 228

routes to, 91, 92, 108, 109, 262

sacrosanctity of, 14

the Wadi of, 208

what it owes to the Mahdi, 108, 205, 228

“Kufra,” Rohlfs’, viii, 18

Kusebeya, 157, 303

Laghbi, what it is, and laws against, 153

Lake Chad, 14

Landmarks, impromptu, 268

Lebba, 99

Lebba, a visit to, 112

the zawia at, 113

Libya, a German scientific expedition to, 16

difficulties of survey work in, 76

exclusiveness of, x

feelings towards Britain in, 109

its devotion to its ruler, 291

mountain oases of, 171

smoking forbidden in, 4, 14, 220, 308

the mentality of, 189

Libyan Desert, the, an excursion to, 6 _et seq._

man’s trust in some unknown Power in, 128

the postman of, 75

Mabruk, Chief of the Police, 23, 24, 29, 37

Mabruk, the slave, 298

Mabruk Bu Helayig, 206

Mabus (village), 91

Mabus el Awadil, 157

Mabus Gaballa, 157

MacDonnell, Col., Governor of Western Desert, xi

Madeni, the, compulsory emigration of, 158

Mahdi, the, Arab belief in continued existence of, 167, 215

frees slaves, 293

gara of, 289

his work for Kufara, 108, 205, 228

introduces jerd and jubba, 205

opens Jaghabub-Kufara route, 262

orders cisterns to be erected at the Mehemsa, 270

qubba of, 215

Mahmud el Jeddawi, 227, 229, 237, 242, 252

Maktu, a rest at, 301

Mannismann, assassination of, 24, 95

Manshia, 99

Mansur Bu Badr of the Gebail, ix, 149, 176, 181, 183, 184

Map-making in the desert, 158, 159

Mareg, Bir, 80

Marriages arranged in the desert, 83

Martino, Senator de, ix, 3, 18, 110

Matruh, 309

Mazeel, 134

Mecca, a Senussi zawia near, 111

Mediterranean, the, Egyptian Coastguard forts along, xi

Mehemsa, the, barraking at, 268

cisterns of, 270

Merg, 279

Mighrib, of the Mojabra tribe, 74, 81, 87, 99

Mirages in the desert, 53, 134, 135, 137, 175, 277

Misurata, 267

Mogharba tribe, the, 206

Mohammed Ali, polices his frontiers, xi

Mohammed Ben Ali, teachings of, 14

history of, 323 _et seq._

important letter from, 221, 338–340

zawia at Lebba, 113

Mohammed el Jeddawi, Sidi, 196

Mohammed el Madeni, Sidi, sheikh of Gezira, ix, 149, 151, 156, 157,

158, 159

Mohammed, Haji, 39

Mohammed Hilal es Senussi, 9

Mohammed Idris es Senussi, the Emir (_see_ Idris)

Mohammed Maghruf, 103, 108

Mohammed Quemish (_see_ Quemish)

Mohammed Sherif, Sheikh, 211, 212

and the Kufara tribesmen, 213

and the Zieghen route, 255

Mohammed Semmen, Sayed, 208

Mohammed, Sidi, the Mahdi, 14, 95, 108

(_see also_ Mahdi, the)

Mohammed Tawati, a paralysed “close friend of the Mahdi,” 227

Mohammed Teifaitah, 209

Mohgen, The, 255

Mohi ed Din, Sidi (son of Sayed Ahmed Sherif), 239

Mojabras, the, 68 _et seq._

Moraja (author’s sergeant), 105, 126, 127, 159, 160, 180

marriage of, 241

reaches Aujela, 96

Moslem, the, fanaticism of, 24, 111

Msus, Bir, 87

Mukhtar attacks Bomba, 119

“Mulukhia,” 195

Musa Gharibeel, Sheikh, ix, 176, 183, 184, 225

Musa Squaireen, Sheikh, ix, 176

Mustapha, 22, 23

“Nasrani,” Moslem hatred of, 26, 56, 76, 107, 150, 206

Nasrani well, the, 149, 155

North African travels, Rohlfs’ work on, viii, 17

Nubian sandstone, 146

Omar (Government interpreter), 27, 87, 89, 95

Omar, of She-ib’s caravan, and a suitor for his sister, 83

Omar Pasha, a dinner to Sidi Idris, 3

Omar, Sheikh of Lebba, greets author, 113

Omar, Sidi, ix, 149, 150, 156

a broad hint to author from, 225

as guide to author, 201, 202

his affection for author, 226

his fear of the camera, 240

“Onshur,” definition of, 164

Orfella, the, 120

Osman Qadi, 227

terrified at being photographed, 240

Osman, Sayed, judge of Kufara, 195

Oweinat well, 279

Palm-leaf baskets and rope, 212

Paper money, usual exchange for, 229 (note)

Passometer, a, accurate measurements of, 80

Paternity, importance of, 131

Pianola, a, in the house of Sayed Saleh, 198

Queirolo, Cavaliere, ix

Quemish, Mohammed (guide), x

a feat of endurance by, 280

and Abdullah’s treachery, 186

and the flight from Taj, 238

author introduced to, 47

cowardice of, 160

demoralisation of, 173

dispatched to Taj, 187

fine qualities displayed in a trying time, 129 _et seq._

quarrels with Abdullah, 248

recovers his self-respect, 181 _et seq._

Sayed Rida entrusts care of author to, 35

sent to Jaghabub, 292

takes leave of author, 299

wants a star “put out,” 272

Rahim, Abdul, escorts author, 27, 96, 97, 241

hides in his tent, 180

his fear of the Bazamas, 172

on the Senussi influence, 119

poor physique of, 130, 160

Ramadan Shetewi, 120

Rassam, Bir, 73

Red Sea, the, Egyptian Coastguard forts along, xi

Regima, Senussi understanding with Italians at, 2, 31, 110, 227

Ribiana, 15

an invitation to visit, refused, 241

arrival of a spy from, 163

gara of, 170

mountain of, 166

population of, 236

Tebu stronghold at, 91, 150, 157

zawia of, 236

Rida el Mahdi es Senussi, Sayed, 10

a festa in honour of author, 39 _et seq._

author as guest of, 21

author’s passport from, x, 90, 101, 102 _et passim_

effect of his letter, 93 _et passim_

fanaticism of, 24

favours from, 33, 34, 97

receives author, 11

Rohlfs, ill-fated expedition of, 16 _et seq._, 91, 149, 150, 154, 189

Rohlfs’ “Kufra,” viii, 18

Route history, 311 _et seq._

Saad, Sheikh, 183

Sa-ad el Tebu, 220

Safi ed Din, Sayed, 10, 12

Sahara, the, Kufara the secret of, 16, 20

routes discussed at Jalo, 109

sunset in, 127

unforgivable sins in, 89

Saleh Effendi, 232, 237, 245

Saleh el Baskari, Sayed, banquets to author, 197 _et seq._

receives author, 194

Saleh, Sidi, a snapshot of, 240

hospitality of, 223

the morabit of, 88

Salt lake in the desert, 153

Salt marshes, proximity of, to ruined Tebu villages, 222, 223, 236

Sand-grouse and camel: story of, 260

Sand-rash, torture of, 284

Sandstorms, remarkable, 60, 116, 263

Sawani, 88

Seif el-Biram, 167

Senegal, Senussi influence in, 119

Senussi confraternity, harsh rules of the, 14

notes on history of, 323 _et seq._

original letter from founder of, to people of Wajanga, 338–340

story of the, 14, 323 _et seq._

Senussi, and Italians, a provisional treaty, 2

belief in continued existence of the Mahdi, 167, 215

difficulty of gaining information from, 106

distrust of strangers, 107

Emir of, 2 _et seq._

faith in spiritual and mental power of the Sayeds, 291

hatred of infidels, 15

holy place of, 191 _et seq._

home of the, 1

hospitality of, 299

leader of, described, 3

mentality of, 107

power held by family of, 33

towns, absence of cafés in, 219

zawia at Gezira, 157

Senussi, Sidi (son of Sidi el Abed), 239

Shakri, 137, 151, 158, 159

Sharruf, 99

Sharuf Basha el Ghariam, 4

Shaving extraordinary, 75, 292

She-ib, across the desert with, 68 _et seq._

his consideration for author, 71

quotes an Arab proverb, 73

She-ib, Musa, 68 _et seq._

a gift of fresh eggs, 90

and a thermos flask, 79

challenged by a sentinel, 98

“Shepherd Kings,” the, 130

Shetewi, Ramadan, 120

Sirhen, 91

Siwa, 92, 306

wanderings through, 309

Slave farms, 213

trade, stringent French law against, 213

Slavery in the East, 39

Slaves, smuggled, 109

Smoking prohibited by the Senussi, 4, 14, 220, 308

Snakes, fearsome, 235

Soluk, 7, 63

Squaireen, Sheikh Musa, ix, 176

Stecker, surveyor to Rohlfs’ expedition, ix, 16

Stockley, Cynthia, 58

Sudan, the, Senussi influence in, 119

Sudanese, quixotic valour of, 166

ruthlessness of, 83

tiffs with the Beduins, 130, 135, 151

voracious appetite of, 51

Sudani slaves of Zuruk, 211

Suleiman Bu Matar, Sheikh, 206, 207, 218

as guide and host, 230, 231, 241

on the Mahdi, 228

Suleiman (the guide), 230, 241, 244, 252 _et seq._, 260 _et seq._, 271

_et seq._, 285 _et seq._

a remarkable feat of, 279

loses a leather bag, 276, 277

Surur, 225

Tabawayein, the, houses of, 154

Taiserbo, 15, 91

a start for, 126 _et seq._

Madeni at, 158

Moraja’s opinion of, 144

reached by Rohlfs, 17

Rohlfs and, 154, 156

topography of, 157

villages of, 157

Taj, 16, 177

a council at, 204 _et seq._

city’s formal farewell to author, 240

exploration of, 222

first sight of, 191

flight from, 222 _et seq._

fortress sanctuary of, and its builder, 228

meaning of, 214

qubba of Sidi el-Mahdi at, 191

translation of Arab document of welcome given at, 336–337

Talakh, a visit to, 214

Tawati Halfan, 208

Tazerr, 211

Tea-drinking, ceremony of, 71

Tebu camels, thin coats of, 242

houses, exploration of, 161

oasis, Hornemann on, 174

ruined villages and houses, 15, 154, 157, 210, 218, 223

tombs, 154

village, visit to a, 220

Tebus, tribe of, 91, 151

ousted from Kebabo, 15

their old-time sultanate, 205

Theft, punishment for, 227

Thermos flask, a, in the desert, 78

Tobruk, 120

Tolab, 158, 192

gardens of, 236

why so named, 214

Tolelib, 158, 192, 233, 236

Treachery, punishment for, 227

Tribal bands, savage, 91

Tripolitania, 16

Italians at bay in, 120

Tuaregs, the, 20, 52, 104

slave farms of, 213

Tuggourt, 52, 219

Tunisi, 157

Uau, Szerir, 16

Vita, General di, ix, 3

Wadai, desert of, 14

Mahdi institutes regular caravan route to, 228

Senussi influence in, 119

Wadi Farig, 53, 55, 73, 81, 132, 133

Wajanga, 35, 220–221

translation of original letter of Sidi Ben Ali to people of, 338–340

Washing-day in the desert, a, 121

Wells, “miraculous” discovery of, by the Mahdi, 228

Wilhelm I sends a scientific expedition to Libya, 16

(_cf._ Rohlfs)

Yadem Bu Gemira, Sidi, 295

Yusuf el Hamri, acts as guide to Jaghabub, 297 _et seq._

an unfortunate remark by, and its sequel, 130

and the Zouias, 264

as cook, 284

becomes an unexpected ally, 173

discerns a caravan, 96, 256

entrusted with care of author, x, 35

his guiding star, 48, 55 _et seq._

his partiality for “asida,” 267, 282

his solicitude at Hassanein’s accident, 302, 303

in a cheerful mood, 275, 278

in a reflective mood, 129

introduced to author, 47

longs for a wife or two, 254, 255

makes “asidas” in the sand for tired camels, 275

offers the Zouia olive branch, 184

says his morning prayers, 273

shaves Mohammed, 292

stirs himself, 114

wakes author for dinner at Jaghabub, 295–6

Zaizeb, 304

Zakar, a gruesome zariba at, 262

Zakar-Jaghabub route, the, 254

Zakar-Siwa route, the, 254

Zakar well, the, 262–3

Zarrug, ix, 182

Zawias, how they retain hold of their pupils, 299

Zeinab, the slave-girl, 117, 118, 121, 130, 184, 193

Zieghen, 15, 91

Zieghen route, the, landmarks of, 255

Zouias, the, a characteristic of, 251

apologise to Hassanein, 184

appearance of, 180

Hawarian, 177

of Buseima, 91, 143

of the “cities” of Kufara, 203 _et seq._

ousted from Kebabo, 15

voluntary submission to Sid Ben Ali es Senussi, 150, 205, 207

wealth of, 74

Zuetina, 9

Zuruk, 17, 158, 192

a visit to, 211

why so named, 214

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

Page Changed from Changed to

58 Unfortunately, Hassanein was Unfortunately, Hassanein was

temped to wash his hair, tempted to wash his hair,

78 bringing that huge flash. It was bringing that huge flask. It was

bulky, heavy and, of bulky, heavy and, of

87 there is only a well as Msus and there is only a well at Msus and

no village, we left it no village, we left it

132 and dele out the water and dole out the water

ourselves. Several of the new ourselves. Several of the new

148 vegetation, half grass, half vegetation, half grass, half

moss. White Abdullah tested moss. While Abdullah tested

175 elusive oasis that was no near elusive oasis that was so near

and yet always just and yet always just

268 were disappointingly different. were disappointingly

“Inshallah, we shall indifferent. “Inshallah, we

shall

● Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.

● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.

● Images without captions use the HTML alt text supplied by the

transcriber.

● The map mentioned in the Contents as being on p. 310 was missing

from the original.

The secret of the Sahara · 第 15 / 15 章