My limbs ache this morning and cannot be made comfortable. I try every possible position on my camel and every possible pace and stride in walking, but none of them are of any avail. My eyelids too seem weighted with lead.
At six we have the good fortune to come across a few patches of green grass and make camp, having marched for thirteen tormented hours. Eyes are bloodshot, and bodies are protesting in every muscle and sinew. In a half-hour it is a dead camp.
Sunday, May 13. We were up at 10 A.M. for breakfast. The men went to sleep again, but I could not. We started again at 5:15 P.M., and this evening things were worse than ever. The country had become more undulating and broken, and both camels and men found the going disastrously painful. Camels were continually being left behind as we wound about among the dunes and little hills of rock. They found bits of grass and fell to grazing. It was very difficult to see them against the red sand spotted with patches of dark stone.
The singing stopped early that night, the surest sign that the men were dead tired. Zerwali told me that Mohammed had come to him to say that we had better camp early and not try to march too long to-night. The going was so difficult and we changed directions so often to go around the elevated points and stone outcroppings that there was danger of our losing our way. But Zerwali, knowing how averse I am to any delay, had told the guide that I wanted to make a night’s march of it.
At last the walking was so hard and camels were so continually left behind that I felt there was no use in going farther. If I had needed any more proof that the men were spent it would have been supplied by the fact that Hassan, the Wajangi, ordinarily a sturdy walker, had taken to a camel early in the evening and had not come off it.
We camped at 11:30 P.M. I wrapped myself in my jerd and told the men not to bother about making a shelter for me. I am sure I did not move from the first position I dropped into until five. I got up with a stiff back and aching legs.
The morning air was serene and refreshing, and the sight of the men busy and eager to go ahead made me forget my physical discomforts. In spite of the new spirit of cheerfulness which the morning brought, however, things were not too encouraging for us. The country was nearly as bad for trekking as it could be. The men seemed to be losing confidence in Mohammed and Herri. The camels were in bad condition, and our water was very low.
Monday, May 14. Start at 6 A.M., halt at 9 A.M., start again at 5:30 P.M., halt at 10 P.M. Make 30 kilometers. Fair and clear. Cool northeast breeze at 7 A.M., which drops at midday. Calm evening and night. Highest temperature 32°. Soft sand covered with grass, both green and dry. Shortly after start in afternoon country changes into undulating ground with valleys full of green grass and dry nisha. This is one of the signs that we are approaching Erdi. At 6:30 P.M. hilly again for about 4 kilometers, and then we pass a big valley with grazing and trees.
As we started again in the morning I intended to go forward for four or five hours, but it speedily got too hot, and we camped at nine. The four hours’ rest had its good effect, and no one went to sleep until we had had breakfast.
In the afternoon Mohammed and Herri went ahead again to mark the way, as there was even more difficult going before us.