Mysteries of the Libyan Desert

by W. J. Harding King

He came into my tent on the first evening and began yarning in an aimless sort of way, as he generally did as a preliminary to serious business, and I endeavoured to extract some information from him as to the topography of the Bedayat country, with which he was well acquainted.

But he at once got impatient and changed the subject to that of his confounded hill. He ended by asking—almost demanding—that we should go back there to have another look at it, and to make certain that there was not another hill in the neighbourhood which might be the one indicated in his book. On my refusing to do so, he flounced out of the tent—he was certainly a queer customer to deal with.

Whenever I spoke to him the next day he began gassing about his wretched hill, and saying that he wanted to go back to it; but towards evening he rather recovered himself, and when he came to my tent I again threw out feelers about the country of the Bedayat, though he declined to tell me anything about the district, he started giving me a lot of information about the Bedayat themselves, which, as they are an almost unknown race, proved extremely interesting.

They claim to be descended from an afrit, whom, for some crime, either David or Solomon shut up in a box, till he grew to such an enormous size that he burst it open. There still exists apparently a mongrel Bedayat—Tibbu tribe, known as the M’Khiat er Rih, that possess the miraculous power of being able to walk over sand without leaving any tracks behind them—a most useful accomplishment in the desert for a race of born freebooters. This peculiarity they owe to the fact that wherever they go they are followed by a wind that immediately obliterates their footprints!

On our fourth day after leaving the treasure hill, our road converged towards the dunes lying on our west, and, as Qwaytin seemed to be hopelessly lost, I climbed one of the biggest of them with him to try and make out our position.

From the top, the east and west scarp, with a break in it leading up to Baharia Oasis, that lies on the north of Farafra, could be seen in the far distance, but no sign of the hattia Kairowin was visible. In front of us, however, was a high three-headed sif, or longitudinal sand dune, that Qwaytin declared to be the landmark for the hattia from the south.

As we were getting very short of water, the news that the hattia was not in sight caused something like consternation among my men. They all started grumbling at Qwaytin’s ignorance of the road, and Ibrahim went so far as to ask him point-blank why he called himself a guide, if he knew so little about the desert.

This coming from a young Sudani, hardly out of his ’teens, to an elderly Arab guide, who, moreover, was a sheykh of his tribe, was a great ayb, and Qwaytin was intensely put out. Qway, under the circumstances, would have retaliated with some stinging remarks on the inferiority of “slaves” and the respect that was due from a boy to his elders and superiors in rank; but Qwaytin lacked his ready powers of vituperation. He was a slow-witted old curmudgeon, and failed entirely to put Ibrahim in his place. His own men stood up for him in a feeble sort of way. But they were no match for Ibrahim, and eventually gave up any attempt to defend their sheykh, probably feeling themselves that there was not much to be said in his defence. As I rather wanted to encourage a certain amount of friction between my men and Qwaytin’s, I left them to settle their differences as best they could, with the result that Qwaytin and his men got much the worst of the wrangle.

Kairowin hattia measures some eighteen miles from north to south, by seven from east to west. It consists of a level scrub-covered area, in which, here and there, are to be seen a few neglected-looking palms. A number of wells have been sunk here at various times; one on the extreme eastern edge of the hattia, where the road coming from Assiut first enters the scrub, is known as Bir Murr. This well, which I did not visit, is said to be sanded up. Another well somewhere to the north, I believe, is known as Bir Abd el Qadr. There are also several others, all of which seem to be impartially named Bir Kairowin. Probably water can be found under all the lower lying parts of the hattia by digging for a few feet into the ground, which throughout this district consists of chalk.

The wells in every case apparently give water so thick with chalk particles that when first drawn from them it is almost as milky as whitewash. Attempts to clear the water by passing it through a Berkefeld filter failed, as the chalk clogged the filter after a few strokes. But when it had been allowed to stand for a few hours, most of the chalk settled down to the bottom, and the water that was poured off passed quite easily through the filter, after which it proved to be of quite good quality.