Border, Breed Nor Birth Part 12
Bey growled, "How am I supposed to get to Faya?"
"You'll have to work that out yourself. Tonight we'll drop you near In Guezzam, they have one of the big solar pump, afforestation developments there. You should be able to, ah, requisition a truck, or possibly even a 'copter or aircraft. You're on your own, Bey."
"Right."
Homer spun to Kenny Ballalou. "You're the only one of us who gets along in the dialect of Ha.s.sania. Get over to Nemadi country and raise a column. There are no better scouts in the world. Two weeks from today at Tamanra.s.set."
"Got it. Drop me off tonight with Bey, we'll work together until we liberate some transport."
Bey said, "It might be worth while scouting in In Guezzam for a day or two. We might pick up a couple of El Ha.s.san followers to help us along the way."
"Use your judgment. Elmer!"
Elmer groaned sourly, "I knew my time'd come."
"Up into Chaambra country for you. Take the second lorry. You've got a distance to go. Try to recruit former members of the French Camel Corps. Promise just about anything, but only remember that one day we'll have to keep the promises. El Ha.s.san can't get the label of phony hung on him."
"Chaambra country," Elmer said. "Oh great. Arabs. I can just see what luck I'm going to have rousing up Arabs to fight other Arabs, and me with a complexion black as ..."
Homer snapped at him, "They won't be following you, they'll be following El Ha.s.san ... or at least the El Ha.s.san dream. Play up the fact that the Arab Union is largely not of Africa but of the Middle East. That they're invading the country to swipe the goats and violate the women. Dig up all the old North African prejudices against the Syrians and Egyptians, and the Saudi-Arabian slave traders. You'll make out."
Cliff said, nervously, "How about me, Homer?"
Homer looked at him. Cliff Jackson, in spite of his fabulous build, hadn't a fighting man's background.
Homer grinned and said, "You'll work with me. We're going into Tuareg country. Whenever occasion calls for it, whip off that shirt and go strolling around with that overgrown chest of yours stuck out. The Tuareg consider themselves the best physical specimens in the Sahara, which they are. They admire masculine physique. You'll wow them."
Cliff grumbled, "Sounds like vaudeville."
Isobel said softly, "And me, El Ha.s.san? What do I do?"
Homer turned to her. "You're also part of headquarters staff. The Tuareg women aren't dominated by their men. They still have a strong element of descent in the matrilinear line and women aren't second-cla.s.s citizens. You'll work on pressuring them. Do you speak Tamaheq?"
"Of course."
Homer Crawford looked up into the sky, swept it. The day was rapidly coming to an end and nowhere does day become night so quickly as in the ergs of the Sahara.
"Let's get underway," Crawford said. "Time's a wastin'."
The range of the Ahaggar Tuareg was once known, under French administration, as the Annexe du Hoggar, and was the most difficult area ever subdued by French arms--if it was ever subdued. At the battle of t.i.t on May 7, 1902 the Camel Corps, under Cottenest, broke the combined military power of the Tuareg confederations, but this meant no more than that the tribes and clans carried on nomadic warfare in smaller units.
The Ahaggar covers roughly an area the size of Pennsylvania, New York, Virginia and Maryland combined, and supports a population of possibly twelve thousand, which includes about forty-five hundred Tuareg, four thousand Negro serf-slaves, and some thirty-five hundred scorned sedentary Haratin workers. The balance of the population consists of a handful of Enaden smiths and a small number of Arab shopkeepers in the largest of the sedentary centers. Europeans and other whites are all but unknown.
It is the end of the world.
Contrary to Hollywood-inspired belief, the Sahara does not consist princ.i.p.ally of sand dunes, although these, too, are present, and all but impa.s.sable even to camels. Traffic, through the millennia, has held to the endless stretches of gravelly plains and the rock ribbed plateaus which cover most of the desert. The great sandy wastes or ergs cover roughly a fifth of the entire Sahara, and possibly two thirds of this area consists of the rolling sandy plains dotted occasionally with dunes. The remaining third, or about one fifteenth of the total Sahara, is characterized by the dune formations of popular imagination.
It was through this latter area that Homer Crawford, now with but one hover-lorry, and accompanied by Isobel Cunningham and Clifford Jackson, was heading.
For although the spectacular major dune formations of the Great Erg have defied wheeled vehicles since the era of the Carthaginian chariots, and even the desert born camel limits his daily travel in them to but a few miles, the modern hovercraft, atop its air cushion jets, finds them of only pa.s.sing difficulty to traverse. And the hovercraft leaves no trail.
Cliff Jackson scowled out at the identical scenery. Identical for more than two hundred miles. For twice that distance, they had seen no other life. No animal, no bird, not a sprig of cactus. This was the Great Erg.
He muttered, "This country is so dry even the morning dew is dehydrated."
Isobel laughed--she, too, had never experienced this country before.
"Why, Cliff, you made a funny!"
They were sitting three across in the front seat, with Homer Crawford at the wheel, and now all three were dressed in the costume of the Kel Rela tribe of the Ahaggar Tuareg confederation. In the back of the lorry were the jerry-cans of water and the supplies that meant the difference between life and mummification from sun and heat.
Cliff turned suddenly to the driver. "Why here?" he said bitterly.
"Why pick this for a base of operations? Why not Mopti? Ten thousand Sudanese demonstrated for El Ha.s.san there less than two weeks ago.
You'd have them in the palm of your hand."
Homer didn't look up from his work at wheel, lift and acceleration levers. To achieve maximum speed over the dunes, you worked constantly at directing motion not only horizontally but vertically.
He said, "And the twenty and one enemies of the El Ha.s.san movement would have had us in their palms. Our followers in Mopti can take care of themselves. If this movement is ever going to be worth anything, the local characters are going to have to get into the act. The current big thing is not to allow El Ha.s.san and his immediate troupe to be eliminated before full activities can get under way. For the present, we're hiding out until we can gather forces enough to free Tamanra.s.set."
"Hiding out is right," Cliff snorted. "I have a sneaking suspicion that not only will they never find us, but we'll never find them again."
Homer laughed. "As a matter of fact, we're not so far right now from Silet where there's a certain amount of water--if you dig for it--and a certain amount of the yellowish gra.s.s and woody shrubs that the bedouin depend on. With luck, we'll find the Amenokal of the Tuareg there."
"Amenokal?"
"Paramount chief of the Ahaggar Tuaregs."
The dunes began to fall away and with the b.u.t.t of his left hand Crawford struck the acceleration lever. He could make more time now when less of his attention was drawn to the ups and downs of erg travel.
Patches of th.o.r.n.y bush began to appear, and after a time a small herd of gazelle were flushed and high tailed their way over the horizon.
Isobel said, "Who is this Amenokal you mentioned?"
"These are the real Tuareg, the comparatively untouched. They've got three tribes, the Kel Rela, the Tegehe Mellet and the Taitoq, each headed by a warrior clan which gives its name to the tribe as a whole.
The chief of the Kel Rela clan is also chief of the Kel Rela tribe and automatically paramount chief, or Amenokal, of the whole confederation. His name is Melchizedek."
"Do you think you can win him over?" Isobel said.
"He's a smart old boy. I had some dealings with him over a year ago.
Gave him a TV set in the way of a present, hoping he'd tune in on some of our Reunited Nations propaganda. He's probably the most conservative of the Tuareg leaders."
Her eyebrows went up. "And you expect to bring him around to the most liberal scheme to hit North Africa since Hannibal?"
He looked at her from the side of his eyes and grinned. "Remember Roosevelt, the American president?"
"Hardly."