One camel carried our personal baggage, a very limited amount for each, our books, maps, survey instruments, and so on. Another carried ammunition, of which we brought a fair amount. We might, if we got into the country alive, have to fight, and we all agreed that ammunition was a _sine qua non_. To save complications in the matter we had standardized our armament. There were five .303 rifles, one for each of us, and one each for the two Punjabis. These we carried ourselves. We had two thousand rounds of ammunition, a liberal allowance for eventualities. Wrexham, Forsyth, and I each had a forty-five automatic Colt pistol with one hundred and fifty rounds apiece. And on the ammunition camel we had a twelve-bore gun with some three hundred cartridges for shooting for the pot. The rest of the camel’s load was made up of a small tool outfit for Wrexham, who, unlike many sappers, was a man of his hands, and never better pleased than when doing odd jobs, and a goodly medical outfit for Forsyth, as we had agreed at Karachi. The ninth camel carried climbing gear, ropes, and the like, oddments of camp kit, and an eighty-pound tent, with nearly a half-load of rations for the camels. Lastly, we had one spare beast which could be used for riding at a pinch if any of us fell sick, but was primarily intended to replace any casualty. All ten were very carefully picked animals, and we had got them into the best of condition against the hardships they would have to face once we struck out into the desert. We had decided to leave the road at Wrexham’s village and march by compass on a bearing, of fifty-two degrees. Old John Wrexham said he went due northeast (forty-five degrees), and then had had to go right-handed for nearly two days before he reached the valley. On the assumption that his records were accurate, the bearing of fifty-two would bring us to the hills about a day’s march from the valley. On the other hand, if--as was likely in view of his troubles coming back--the distance was more than he had estimated on the outward journey, it would put us closer still to the valley, perhaps within a mile or two. At Wrexham’s village we filled up with water--we had made up our food loads at the last town and lived on local produce since--and added a little in the way of such fresh vegetables as were procurable. We spent two busy days there, finally fitting out and doing various odd repairs to gear such as are rendered necessary after a long march. Wrexham, who had now a pretty useful knowledge of Turki, spent most of his time talking to the inhabitants, and asking questions about routes in the desert, and in carefully creating an atmosphere favourable to the reasons he gave for our trip. He announced that we intended travelling on to the next big town, but, instead of following the road, we were going to move parallel to it about two days’ distance into the desert in search of ruined towns, abandoned as the country desiccated and the desert grew.