"Be still, miserable little fly," said Ceghéir-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." Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh waved his hand impatiently. "Ceghéir-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, Ceghéir-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. Ceghéir-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. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had stopped. "Get down," he said. A spring gurgled out of the rock. The Targa went to it and filled a copper cup with the water. "Drink," he said, holding it out to each of us in turn. We obeyed. "Drink again," he ordered. "You will save just so much of the contents of your water skins. Now try not to be thirsty before sunset." He looked over the saddle girths. "That's all right," he murmured. "Now go. In two hours the dawn will be here. You must be out of sight." I was filled with emotion at this last moment; I went to the Targa and took his hand. "Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I asked in a low voice, "why are you doing this?"