296 THE EMPTY QUARTER

the sky was for the most part overcast and the sun only
struggled through feebly at wide intervals. It was, therefore,
much cooler than it had been the previous afternoon, while
I derived much satisfaction from the fact that such actual
rainfall as could be observed was concentrated afar off to the
west on the very line which we should soon be following.

During the afternoon I went forth again to the well for a
bathe to escape the stuffiness of my tent, intensified by a
regular gathering of the clans to bask in the sunshine of my
new-born good humour, which was perhaps expected to
result in a farther distribution of bounty, though I had
firmly made up my mind that no further rewards should be
given until actually earned. The baggage-people would get
their proper dues at Riyadh on handing over safely all the
cases and packages scheduled in my letter to the heir-
apparent—and I may anticipate the subsequent course of
events to the extent of stating that all the baggage arrived
safe and intact at Mecca. The men concerned also received
the payments indicated in my letter, while those who went
with me were duly rewarded after our safe arrival.

A few drops of rain fell while I was bathing, and at 5 p.m.
a violent squall burst upon us from the north-east. It lasted
intermittently for four hours. The whirlwind filled the deep
hollow of Naifa T^ith eddying clouds of sand. The ropes and
pegs strained and strained again in the effort to hold the
tents to their unstable foundation. Crash went the taber-
nacle of my companions, levelled over their heads. Crash
went mine as I clutched desperately at everything likely to
be carried away. One of my precious killing-bottles, already
a little cracked by some earlier accident, was hurled against
a stone and smashed to atoms. And, crawling out from
under the debris of the tent, we all sat disconsolately in the
open while the stinging sand played upon us like a hose.
We could scarcely stand steady as we lined up for the sunset
prayer, and our dinner was eaten in circumstances of un-
imaginable discomfort. How Zaid and Ibn Musainid had
ever managed to cook it under such conditions was a mystery,
and it was a miracle indeed that they had done so without a
more lavish admixture of sand.