CHAPTER IV

THE WATERLESS WASTE

Where there is no water, 'tis the Empty Quarter; none thither goes.

•—SUWID AL AZMA,

THE sands of Naifa receded behind us into the gloaming as
we marched north-west towards Adraj—eleven men with
fifteen camels and a dog. The camels were festooned with
water-skins and garlands of raw dry meat, which gave forth a
fragrant odour in the cool night air.

Sunset being almost upon us when all was ready for a start,
we had delayed for a few moments to accomplish the cus-
tomary prayer-rites by the ashes of our camp-fire. The
clouds had once more begun to gather over us as we then
mounted to begin the great adventure. The omens were
favourable. We were all in good condition, man and beast.
The dunes of Arabia wore a mantle of Scotch mist, out of
which a gentle drizzle fanned us at intervals as we went into
the darkness. All we could see was the ghostly silhouettes
of our companions marching along in ghostly silence. And
thus for five hours over the familiar ridges and valleys of the
Naifa-'Ain Sala district until we came to a great range on the
confines of Adraj, where we halted for a night's rest just as
Orion's Belt stood upon the western horizon. A single
incident had caused a slight commotion during the march,
Al Aqfa was suddenly discovered to be missing. She had
missed her good friend the cook in our company, and had
apparently gone off back to Naifa in search of him. We
resigned ourselves philosophically to the sad loss, but our
joy was great indeed when the familiar shape was seen once
more sidling i|$o camp soon after our own arrival. She had
drawn blaaafcW^otir abandoned dwelling-place and returned
following our tracks. The intelligence of the desert Saluqi is
almost human.

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