That, at least, was the ostensible reason. But the real cause for the abandonment of this highly picturesque project was not so much military as political. Citroen, one of the richest men in France, was allied with the political party then in the saddle. His great rival, Renault, was a stanch supporter of the opposition. But on the very eve of the departure of the inaugural expedition there occurred one of those sudden political crises so frequent in France; the government was overturned and the opposition came into power. Citroen suddenly found himself with the outs and Renault with the ins. A day or so later the new minister of war sent word to M. Citroen that because of trouble among the tribes conditions in the desert were insecure and that the government could not assume responsibility for the safety of the expedition. M. Citroen took the hint. He knew when he was beaten. The invitations to the distinguished guests were canceled; the chain of rest-houses which had been erected right across the Sahara were stripped of their furnishings and abandoned; hundreds of employees were recalled; the tractors were ordered to Oran, where they are now rusting in a storage warehouse; and an investment of more than fifteen million francs was written off. Political jealousy, the curse of France, had, for a time at least, turned back the hands of progress in the Sahara. Though the Citroen project was, in its inception, a publicity stunt, a money-making scheme, its success indubitably would have proved the first step in the realization of a great imperial dream. For, as I have sought to point out in the preceding chapter, the consolidation into an empire of France’s scattered possessions in North, West, and Central Africa must hinge, when all is said and done, on the establishment of direct and rapid communications between them. Let us take a concrete case by way of illustration. The distance from Algiers to Timbuktu as the motor goes is, in round figures, two thousand miles. But the distance between the same points by the only route now open to travelers—Algiers-Marseilles-Dakar by steamer, Dakar-Kayes-Bamaku by rail, and Bamaku-Timbuktu by river-boat and launch—is upward of four thousand miles. [Illustration: CROSSING THE SAND-DUNES OF THE GRAND ERG BY MOTOR Combines the thrills of riding a roller-coaster at Coney Island, tobogganing on the Cresta Run at St.-Moritz, and descending Pike’s Peak in a car without brakes. The cars are specially built Renaults with twelve wheels arranged in six sets of two wheels each. The picture at the left shows what happens when the sand begins to slide. Between the front wheels of the car is slung a revolving drum wound with a steel cable, which is used to get the car out of trouble when the pitch is too steep to afford traction]