Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-02-20
NJ MARY ROBERTS RINEHART.

-O OR number OF years il has
been our custom to spend
certain portion of the open
seasno Indar canvas we
had. hitherto carried with u
all the necessities, but none of the
Injuries.
In view of all this, l rather hest
late TO describe the way in which we
ramped IN the Libyan desert. Let
me, rather, describe a typical day in
The desert with the camp at the end
Of it.
IN the morning our breakfast tray
has been brought to the sieeping-tent.
and the other tents have been taken
down. The grumbling, snarlinS male
ramals which carry the enormous
burden of our equipment are being
hacked, and our gentler and. softer,
gated riding animals are kneeling
ready for us.
We mount and Assour. on his little
gr,ay donkey. Gazelle. leads the canleiS.
Behind him come The two riding
canes, Dahabeah and Missouri, with
their great soft saddles ard stirrupS
and their swinging ornaments and
harness. And falling in at the last
the numbering pack canlelS, uroohng
at the mouth. clumsy and complain
ing.
one of the earliest experiences of
the trip was with a luggage camel,
as we prepared to leave our first
camp. 1t was a great gray beast, and
when the pack saddle had been ad-
iusted it gave a snort of defiance,
broke it's ropes and started for home.
The last vision we had of 1t as II
ran was as it topped a sand dune at
20 miles an hour, its pack straps
flying, while all ten of the men picked
up their long skirts and raced after 1t.
They found it in the Arab village
miles away, whimpering against
n mud wall, and beat it we'll and
brought it back. But somehow
never could think of that flight as
funny; it was despairing, tragic.
On this rebel and three other camels,
then, our camp was carried. Three
large, circular tents were our shelters.
Set in a row on the desert, the first
one was always the cook tent. In it
sat the boxes and panniers which car
ried our supplies and the charcoal
stove on which Mohammed, the cook,
produced his Seven-courSe dinners.
Inside there would be table. A
real table, already laid for dinner, with
a white cloth, napkins. glassware,
china and silver. Even two tall brass
candlestieks with candles, The sand
was covered with Oriental rugs
and at one side of the tent inside
the door was Abou Taleb's serving
table. On it already were his extra
plates, the dinner wine, Scotch and
soda, nuts. raisins and candies.
The bedroom tent was equally large
and circular, and quite 10 feet high
in the center. where the large. pole
rose like a mast to support it. It too
was ffoored with Oriental rugs, and it
contained two iron beds with springs.
mattresses, pillows, sheets. blankets
and white counterpanes. Chairs,
large washstand with two white bowls
and two pitchers, a cake of French
soap apd towels completed our fur
nishing there.
After dinner, in the evenings. Assour
would enter the dining tent with
bow, and ask us if all had been to our
taste. And Abou Taleb, our waiter,
would stand by listening in painful
anxiety, until we had praised the
meal and the service. There was great
uneasiness when we insisted on cut
ting the seven courses to five.
You do not eat" said Abou Taleb,
mournfully. "Mohammed. he cry in
his tent. He do not cook good enough"
We eamped and rested after each
days slow Journey. Then, one day.
below and beyond us. lay Memphis.
We Iounged in steamer chairs and sur
veyed the historic prospect with bored
and satiated eyes.
"I suppose we have to see Memphis.
I said, but I don't get any particular
thrill out of the idea"
Nevertheless, Memphis, or the site
OF IT, furnished us one modern and
authentic thrill. and that the very
next day.
We did all the usual things. Re-
fused imitation Scarabs stood on a