Mysteries of the Libyan Desert

by W. J. Harding King

I endeavoured to pacify him by pointing out that I was not asking him to do anything I was not prepared to do myself, and that, as a Sudani, he belonged to a race that prided themselves on being able to endure the hardships to be encountered in a desert journey. But he only got more excited, saying that he and Ibrahim did more work than I did, as they had to load and unload the camels and walked all day, while I occasionally rode. Dahab, he added, was of no use in the desert, as he was only a cook, and I could do without him, and, as we were short of water, we had better get rid of him. At the end he was fairly shouting at me with rage, and, as he was not in a state to listen to arguments, I walked away from the camp into the desert to give him time to cool down.

A Sudani at heart is a savage, and if a savage thinks he is deprived of the necessaries of life he is very apt to fall back upon primitive methods, and is quite capable of “getting rid” of anyone who stands between him and his water supply. Visions of the ghastly scenes that took place among the survivors of the shipwrecked “Medusa” and “Mignonette,” when they ran short of water, and of the terrible fate that overtook the survivors of the disastrous Flatters expedition, during their retreat to Algeria from the central Sahara, came up before my eyes, and, as I saw Abd er Rahman and Ibrahim earnestly consulting together, I felt the situation was not one to be trifled with.

I went back to the camp fully expecting to have to deal with something like a mutiny. I called Abd er Rahman up and told him he was never to speak to me again like that, and if he did I should fine him heavily. I said that we should find plenty of water in the depot at Jebel el Bayed and there was no need at all for any anxiety, but that, owing to the leakage from the tanks, we should have to be careful till we got there. I told him that I should help to load and unload the baggage, and would walk all day to show that the allowance of water was sufficient. As to Dahab, I pointed out that he had worked with him for two seasons in the desert, and that it was very treacherous for him to turn round and want to “get rid” of him directly there was a slight deficiency in the water supply.

Much to my surprise, I found him extremely penitent. He said I could drink all his water supply and Ibrahim’s as well if I wanted it; of course he could put up with a small water supply better than I could, he was very strong; and as for Dahab he was an excellent fellow and a friend of his; he had only been angry because he was thirsty. I told him that it was very easy for him to talk, but that I should like to see how much there was at the back of what he said, so I challenged him to see if he could do on less water than I could. A sporting offer of this sort generally appeals to a Sudani or an Arab. He accepted my challenge with a grin.

Ibrahim afterwards apologised for his brother, saying that he had been behaving like a woman.

The sealing-wax I had put on the leaks effectually closed them; but towards noon the increasing heat melted the wax and soon they were leaking as badly as ever; the other tanks, that had held out up to that point, also opened their seams in the heat, and, by the end of the day, every single tank that I had was dripping its precious contents on to the ground. Only the small ones that I had made for the depots remained waterproof.

As the sealing-wax proved ineffectual, I scraped it off in the evening, and, since the leaks were all in the seams of the tanks, I plugged them with some gutta-percha tooth stopping that I had fortunately brought with me, wedging it into the seams where they leaked with the blade of a knife. This was apparently unaffected by the heat, and, though it was liable to be loosened by rough usage, was a great improvement on the wax. But the leaks were plugged too late. During the two days while they were open, one tank had become almost entirely empty, and the others had all lost a considerable portion of their contents. Fortunately I had allowed an ample supply of water, most of which was in the depot at Jebel el Bayed, so with the small tanks to fall back on in case of need, we could count on being able to get out about twelve days instead of the fifteen I had arranged for, which I expected would more than take us to Owanat.

We continued our march, leaving a small depot behind us at each camp till we reached the main store. This I found had not been made, as I intended it should be, at the foot of Jebel el Bayed, but a good half-day’s journey to its north.

I was greatly relieved to see that the depot appeared to be quite in order; but Abd er Rahman was evidently suspicious, for leaving the unloading of the camels to Ibrahim and Dahab, he went off to the depot and began peering about and searching the neighbourhood for tracks.

Almost at once he returned with a very long face, announcing that a lot of water had been thrown away. I hurried up to the depot, and he pointed out two large patches of sand thickly crusted on the surface, showing that a very large amount of water had been spilt. We examined the depot itself. The sacks of grain were quite untouched, but every one of the large iron tanks was practically empty, with the exception of one which was about half full. The little tanks intended for the small depots did not appear to have been tampered with, perhaps because they would have required some time to empty.