At three in the afternoon, just as the
weather was becoming quite fresh and pleasant, we halted. The wind,
occasionally strong, blew from the north-east, whilst our course lay
south-west, across a broad valley. The sandy ground is covered with the
tholukh-tree, which affords a grateful shade in the season. This valley
is very broad here, only one side being visible at once to the eye.
The Tuaricks are growing civil enough, and companionable. Luckily
Hateetah and the son of Shafou do not drink coffee or tea--a saving.
Hateetah, however, is always begging; he says he will go to Aheer, and
appears to consider his escort indispensable. According to him, the
Germans, who are pushing on ahead, run great danger. Yusuf tells me that
he is, in reality, extremely angry with my companions for proceeding
alone. He wishes, perhaps, to get a present from them too; and swears
that he knows nobody but Yak[=o]b (my desert name). They are not
English, he says, but French. Besides, they have got twenty camel-loads
of goods, which he will seize if they do not pay him something. Of
course this is all harmless bluster, and means nothing. He confesses
that, being on Fezzanee ground, he has really no claim upon caravans at
all; but he is a greedy old rascal, and would take any advantage he
could. The same gentleman says that Sakonteroua is only a chicken in his
own country--quite powerless; if this be the case, his enmity is not of
so much consequence as I feared.
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