he country of the
Awellimiden."

"Be still, miserable little fly," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh.

Then addressing me, he continued:

"I have said what I have said. The little one is not wrong. The
Awellimiden are a savage people. But they are afraid of the French.
Many of them trade with the stations north of the Niger. On the other
hand, they are at war with the people of Ahaggar, who will not follow
you into their country. What I have said, is said. You must rejoin
the Timbuctoo road near where it enters the borders of the
Awellimiden. Their country is wooded and rich in springs. If you reach
the springs at Telemsi, you will finish your journey beneath a canopy
of blossoming mimosa. On the other hand, the road from here to Telemsi
is shorter than by way of Timissao. It is quite straight."

"Yes, it is direct," I said, "but, in following it, you have to cross
the Tanezruft."

Cegheir-ben-Cheikh waved his hand impatiently.

"Cegheir-ben-Cheikh knows that," he said. "He knows what the Tanezruft
is. He who has traveled over all the Sahara knows that he would
shudder at crossing the Tanezruft and the Tassili from the south. He
knows that the camels that wander into that country either die or
become wild, for no one will risk his life to go look for them. It is
the terror that hangs over that region that may save you. For you have
to choose: you must run the risk of dying of thirst on the tracks of
the Tanezruft or have your throat cut along some other route.

"You can stay here," he added.

"My choice is made, Cegheir-ben-Cheikh," I announced.

"Good!" he replied, again opening out the roll of paper. "This trail
begins at the second barrier of earth, to which I will lead you. It
ends at Iferouane. I have marked the wells, but do not trust to them
too much, for many of them are dry. Be careful not to stray from the
route. If you lose it, it is death.... Now mount the camel with the
little one. Two make less noise than four."

We went a long way in silence. Cegheir-ben-Cheikh walked ahead and his
camel followed meekly. We crossed, first, a dark passage, then, a deep
gorge, then another passage.... The entrance to each was hidden by a
thick tangle of rocks and briars.

Suddenly a burning breath touched our faces. A dull reddish light
filtered in through the end of the passage. The desert lay before us.

Cegheir-ben-Cheikh had stopped.

"Get down," he said.

A spring gurgled out of the rock. The Targa went to it a