As illustrative of the exacting nature of this redoubtable voyage over the Bilma Desert, some account regarding the strain of it may be of interest.
The men of the Taralum undoubtedly rank among the ablest travellers and camel-men in the world, yet throughout the journey much weariness was remarked in the caravan. Men and camels tired badly; tired, too, in many cases, long before the end. The excessively long days, and the heat of a merciless sun, told their tale.
Truly it is the dominion of the sun, which is the most exhausting thing of all in an utterly pitiless land. Many men suffered terribly from constant sun-glare on eyes that could not endure the strain, which not only caused aches and pains, but also induced acute fatigue. Men so affected, after a time, cannot look upon the landscape without great effort, and one sees them sitting on their loads, with gowns drawn closely over their faces, while they doze and droop to the point of falling from their seats.
In due course the strange, diminutive, sand-blown oasis of Fachi was reached, and a week later Bilma. And, when the harvest of salt-cones was bartered for and loaded, without delay the Taralum set out on the return journey; fearful of tarrying, even at the oases because of the poverty of food for camels or men. Indeed, the sand-surrounded oases were almost as appallingly barren as the desert around them, except for their groves of dates, which bore no fruit at that season of the year.
On the way back to Aïr, the prolonged strain told most heavily toward the end, partly from natural causes, and partly as a result of having subsisted overlong on scant nourishment. Indeed, so closely gauged were the food supplies of the Taralum that they began to give out before the end, even under the most rigid economy.
Men and animals weakened perceptibly. Of the former, nearly everyone limped when walking on foot, most of them suffering from numerous dry cracks that had opened cruelly in toes and soles of sandalled feet, through the extreme dryness of the atmosphere and the cutting friction of hot, bone-dry sand.
Even Efali, the fine old guide, had the appearance of a broken man in the end; limping, and stooping almost double, though, at the start, he had presented a trim, nimble figure remarkable for a man of his age.
Some camels died on the outward journey, but many more were lost on the way back. Those were individual losses, a few here and there in almost every company, and the total loss in the Taralum was not recorded as a whole. But, on the third day before the end, it was common news that no fewer than forty camels had fallen out, unable to struggle on at the pace the caravan travelled. These were left behind in the tracks of the caravan, some at the point of death, others to take their chance of struggling through, unloaded, at their own gait.
EFALI