We stood there several minutes without speaking. Morhange maintained an uneasy silence; I was examining my map. All over it in greater or less degree, but particularly towards the south, the unexplored portions of Ahaggar stood out as far too numerous white patches in the tan area of supposed mountains. I finally said: "You give me your word that when you have seen these famous grottos, you will make straight for Timissao by Tit and Silet?" He looked at me uncomprehendingly. "Why do you ask that?" "Because, if you promise me that,--provided, of course, that my company is not unwelcome to you--I will go with you. Either way, I shall have two hundred kilometers to go. I shall strike for Shikh-Salah from the south, instead of from the west--that is the only difference." Morhange looked at me with emotion. "Why do you do this?" he murmured. "My dear fellow," I said (it was the first time that I had addressed Morhange in this familiar way), "my dear fellow, I have a sense which becomes marvellously acute in the desert, the sense of danger. I gave you a slight proof of it yesterday morning, at the coming of the storm. With all your knowledge of rock inscriptions, you seem to me to have no very exact idea of what kind of place Ahaggar is, nor what may be in store for you there. On that account, I should be just as well pleased not to let you run sure risks alone." "I have a guide," he said with his adorable naiveté. Eg-Anteouen, in the same squatting position, kept on patching his old slipper. I took a step toward him. "You heard what I said to the Captain?" "Yes," the Targa answered calmly. "I am going with him. We leave you at Tit, to which place you must bring us. Where is the place you proposed to show the Captain?" "I did not propose to show it to him; it was his own idea," said the Targa coldly. "The grottos with the inscriptions are three-days' march southward in the mountains. At first, the road is rather rough. But farther on, it turns, and you gain Timissao very easily. There are good wells where the Tuareg Taitoqs, who are friendly to the French, come to water their camels." "And you know the road well?" He shrugged his shoulders. His eyes had a scornful smile. "I have taken it twenty times," he said. "In that case, let's get started."