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[[strikethrough]] CONFIDENTIAL [[/strikethrough]] We began walking for we figured we weren't far from our destination and that we would be in Chunguetti about 2 or 3 that afternoon. But how wrong we were, and how discouraged we became! The so-called "beauty" ended abruptly, and stretched before us were endless miles of sand. There were Sandhills over 100 ft., sand dunes, yellow sand, grey sand, white sand, red sand, and - just sand! It wasn't a question of making time anymore - we could see that. The Arabs had to pick their way around sand piles and they wound and rewound with the caravan. The sun was beating down in all its intensity, but it still wasn't as hot as we were around the "collar". It was very exasperating and giving up seemed the easiest thing to do. We were rather tired having walked for over two hours, but this plodding through sand had us weak in every muscle. Our Arab friends noted our expressions and somehow, they knew just about what we were thinking. They immediately had us put on camels - load or no load - sand or no sand. It seems that a camel can be ruined very easily if the packs aren't loaded so they balance and the weight distributed evenly on the camel's back. Every once in a while - all along the journey - they would have to reload or reshift the packs on the animals when they became unbalanced. It can be realized then, how good these Arabs were letting us ride on the packs over and around those very hilly and unstable sand dunes. Is it no wonder we thought so much of them? We kept on riding and walking in turns for what seemed hours, still thinking we would run out of sand and there would be Chunguetti. We tried to ask the natives in different ways and various manners how long we had to go yet but the answer was always Chunguetti and they would point to the north. So we patiently kept on and couldn't help thinking how easy it was for a man to go quietly crazy in such a situation in all that sand. Along about 3:15 p.m. when we figured we ought to just about be there, we saw in the distance seven camels with riders coming toward us from the north. We didn't know what to think. Our Arab friends had huge smiles on thier faces, pointed to the riders and then to us. It then began to dawn on me that these were French soldiers from Chunguetti to take us in. Weidner told me later that his first impression was that he thought they were bandits and he was about to get his .45 ready. The soldiers finally drew abreast, threw us a snappy salute, greeted us warmly and took command of us then and there. Our happiness and joy knew no bounds. We were completely relieved and "swelled" up inside. The soldiers fixed a place on a nearby sand dune and brought out cognac, cigarettes, and hot tea and milk. Our eyes popped and we ate and drank hungrily. What had happened was that our two Arab friends had ridden all night and part of the next day, got into Chunguetti, and brought us help. How can you repay faithful friends like that? They had had practically no rest at all in 2 1/2 days and here they were yet seeing that we were being properly taken care of. And here came about the hardest part of our trip. The French soldiers put us in the saddles, and with a word to our Arabs that we would like to see them in Chunguetti, we left for the North. The Arabs camped a little further on from the place we were picked up, for it was still another good day's travel for the caravan. We rode on over the dunes. - 7 - [[strikethrough]] CONFIDENTIAL [[/strikethrough]]
