Johnny looked at the Malian officer again. "How come you've returned to camp? Shouldn't you be out there with your men?"
"There were a few things to be discussed," the Moslem said. He looked significantly at the French reporter.
Hélène Desage said, "Let me warn you, I will not tolerate being sent away. I want to hear this. If I don't, I demand you let me communicate immediately with my magazine and with the Transatlantic Newspaper Alliance for whom I am also doing a series of articles on the Sahara Reforestation scheme."
Johnny McCord winced. He said, "There is nothing going on around here, Miss Desage, that is secret. You won't be ordered away." He turned to Mohammed Mohmoud. "What did you wish to discuss, Captain?"
"First, what about the camels, asses and horses?"
"Shoot them. Practically the only graze between here and Tissalit are our trees."
"And how will they get themselves and their property out of this country?" the reporter snapped.
Johnny said wearily, "We'll truck them out, Miss Desage. They and all their property. And while we're doing it, we'll feed them. I imagine, before it's all over it will cost the Commission several thousand dollars." He turned back to the desert patrol captain. "What else?"
From a tunic pocket Mohammed Mohmoud brought a handgun and handed it to Johnny McCord. "I thought you might like to see this. They were quite well armed. At first I thought there might be resistance."
Johnny turned the automatic over in his hands, scowling at it. "What's there to see that's special? I don't know much about guns."