Johnny McCord held up his hands, palms upward. "This country is part of the Mali Federation, Miss Desage. It used to be called French Sudan and South Algeria. The government of the Federation gladly accepted the project of reforestating the Sahara. Why not? We've already succeeded in making one of the most poverty-stricken areas in the world a prosperous one. Far from there being unemployment here, we have a labor shortage. Schools have opened, even universities. Hospitals have sprung up. Highways have been laid out through country that hadn't even trails before. The Federation is booming. If there are a few Tuareg who can't adapt to the new world, it's too bad. Their children will be glad for the change." She seated herself stiffly. "I am not impressed by your excuses," she said. Johnny shrugged and turned to Mohammed Mohmoud who had been standing silently through all this, almost as though at attention. Johnny said, "Did you learn where this band comes from? Where they had kept that many animals for so long without detection?" The Moslem officer shook his head. "They wouldn't reveal that." Johnny looked at Derek Mason. The Canadian shook his head. "None of them spoke French, Johnny. Or if they did, they wouldn't admit it. When we first came up they looked as though they were going to fight. Happily, the size of the captain's command made them decide otherwise. At any rate, they're putting up no resistance. I let them know through the captain, here, that when they got back to Tissalit, or Timbuktu, they could put in a demand for reimbursement for their animals--if the animals were legally theirs." Johnny looked at the Malian officer again. "How come you've returned to camp? Shouldn't you be out there with your men?" "There were a few things to be discussed," the Moslem said. He looked significantly at the French reporter. Hélène Desage said, "Let me warn you, I will not tolerate being sent away. I want to hear this. If I don't, I demand you let me communicate immediately with my magazine and with the Transatlantic Newspaper Alliance for whom I am also doing a series of articles on the Sahara Reforestation _scheme_." Johnny McCord winced. He said, "There is nothing going on around here, Miss Desage, that is secret. You won't be ordered away." He turned to Mohammed Mohmoud. "What did you wish to discuss, Captain?" "First, what about the camels, asses and horses?" "Shoot them. Practically the only graze between here and Tissalit are our trees." "And how will they get themselves and their property out of this country?" the reporter snapped. Johnny said wearily, "We'll truck them out, Miss Desage. They and all their property. And while we're doing it, we'll feed them. I imagine, before it's all over it will cost the Commission several thousand dollars." He turned back to the desert patrol captain. "What else?"