At last the time came when the French authorities said, “You may go.” And then there was gladness and bustle and transformation.
Everything in the way of equipment had to be secured in three weeks. My days were spent in London, flying here, there, and everywhere on seemingly endless shopping errands, until on the eve of sailing the entire equipment was tolerably complete.
I will describe one amusing incident that relates to shopping:
I drove up to a large West-End establishment and asked the taxi-driver to wait, while, in company with my wife, I entered the shop.
I had told the taxi-driver I would not be long, but was detained almost an hour.
NATIVE FOOD FOR THE LONG TRAIL
My wife became anxious about the taxi-man’s temper, and, after considerable time had passed, went to pacify him.
“My husband won’t be long now,” she said. “You must excuse him; he is in there buying food for a year.”
“Gawd! Where’s he going, Miss?” the taxi-man exclaimed, and when my wife explained, “To explore the Sahara,” he got excited and thoroughly interested, and at once started to confide the news to a fellow taxi-man on another waiting cab.