THE STRANDED MOTOR-CAR.

Northland Age, Volume IV, Issue 48, 20 July 1908, Page 8

THE STRANDED MOTOR-CAR.

AN INCIDENT OF THE PMON-

PARIS RACE.

On Wednesday early in June, 1907, a motor would have been noticed (if, indeed, there was anyone to see it in such a lonely place) ploughing its way across the sea of sand and shingle known as the Gobi desert. Three Frenchmen were seated in the car, Monsieur Cornier, a newspaper correspondent, and a mechanic. Suddenly the car began to slow down. The engines ceased to work. Not an ounce of petrol remained, and twenty miles lay between them and the nearest spot where the authorities had established a petrol depot. Meanwhile, the sun beat down with a force that only those who have faced the desert heat can picture. The little water that the travellers carried became exhausted, and their small stock of provisions soon gave out.

To abandon the car never for a moment came to the consideration of any of the party. Sooner qr later, a caravan would come along, for they had followed the customary track across the desert.

Night fell, and the three motorists dozed fitfully, haunted the while by visions of bubbling springs and wells for which their dry throats longed. A Mogul woman approached on a camel. By making signs Monsieur Cornier explained to her their plight. The woman nodded her comprehension and at once allowed the motorists to hitch the camel to the car. But strivo as it would, the great beast could not move it, so the woman went on her way, and the stranded motorists faced the terrific heat, hoping that soon a caravan would come.

Again night fell. Hungry, but still greater in need of water, the three men once more entered the car and sought to find relief in sleep. They were awakened by strange sounds. By the bright light of the desert moon they saw that they were surrounded by a band of fierce Chunchuses, mounted and armed with rifles.

Leaping from the car, Monsieur Cornier approached one, who, by his costume and manner, appeared to be the chief. His two companions waited in the car. They knew that out in the lonely desert they were at the mercy of this fierce, roving band, should they prove unfriendly. Meanwhile Monsieur Cqrnier appealed to be finding favour with the chief. At last, by signs and broken sentences of Chinese, he succeeded in inducing the chief to allow some of his men to take a letter to the nearest station, and with loud cries half the men set off at full gallop.

The remainder of the Chunchuses, having harnessed two camels to the car, escorted it as slowly it was dragged along towards the distant station. The journey began at one o’clock on the Friday, and cqatinued till three on the following day. All through those long hours the motorists suffered severely from thirst, and once when they passed a well, drank deep of the tepid, nauseating water. Suddenly a band of horsemen, raising a huge cloud of sand, came in sight. The sharp, cracking sound of rifles filled the air. At first it appeared as if they were about to be attacked, but as the hqrsemen drew near it was seen that it was the party that had been despatched by the chief. After a few minutes, amidst the shouts of the Chunchuses and the cracking of rifles, the motorists saw to their joy that they were bearing cans of the precious petrol. A great shout of triumph filled the air, as with tanks replenished, the car moved off in triumph.—“ Royal Magazine."