LOST IN SAHARA

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXVII, Issue 19394, 19 January 1933, Page 12

LOST IN SAHARA

FLIER’S ADVENTURES WITH VEILED TUAREGS. During his adventurous flight from Cape Town to England, Mr Victor C. Smith, the 19-year-old South African airman, had some remarkable experiences as the guest of the veiled Tuaregs, a fierce nomad tribe of French West Africa, while he was “missing” in the Sahara. Mr Smith reached Croydon a few hours outside the existing record of 11 days for the Cape-England flight. His machine was forced down near Ashford, Kent, and he was taken to Croydon by another ’plane. “I had been following the Niger on the West Coast route of Africa, and I left it to fly to Gao by compass.” he reyated. "Suddenly I found that the feed connecting the main tank with the auxiliary tank had been leaking. Instead of having, as I thought, about 25 gallons of petrol, all I had we s enough to keep me in the air for about ten minutes. I circled round to look for somewhere to land, and saw a pool of water beneath me. I landed near quite safely. Queer Looking Human Being. “The following morning I went to the pool. It was stagnant and vilesmelling. I was coming away with a flask of the slimy liquid when I beheld a native—the queerest-looking human being I have ever seen. He was wearing a mere patch of covering.

“When he saw me he placed his hands before his eyes, as if to shield his sight from a devil. He seemed rooted to the spot. Eventually I gave him a note in the hope that he would take it to some white people. "The next day he returned with r. party of Tuaregs, and I was greeted by three of the chiefs on horseback. They wore flowing robes, and kept their faces veiled. The chiefs wore white veils, while the tribesmen had Veils of blue. The slaves were absolutely naked. The Tuaregs were armed with spears, swords, and carbines. "However, the Tuaregs appeared to be perfectly friendly, and offered me some goats’ milk in skins. For the life of me, I could not drink it, and when they were not looking I had to throw it away. “They seemed to be very anxious that I should sleep, and tried to get me by pantomime to lie down. I noticed that they were lighting fires, and I was afraid that I might have been popped into the pot if I went to sleep, so I stayed awake. “It was soon obvious to me, however, that they were only trying to be friendly, and later they gave 'me some goats’ flesh. It was scarcely cooked, and I could not eat it. Low Level of Intelligence. “These tribesmen seemed to be of a very low level of intelligence, and their chief Warra Warra, seemed to be the biggest simpleton of the lot Whenever I spoke he nodded his head unceasingly. Perhaps he wanted lo be helpful, but it became very irritating. “The Tuaregs took me to their encampment, which was two or thre£ miles away. Here they built me a hut. and then appointed one of their slaves to sleep at my feet to protect me from lions. Around the encampment they built a wall of thorn bushes to keep the beasts away. “The chief, Warra Warra, hung amulets round my neck so that I would know he was my friend. 1 bathed in the pool of water with some of the Tuareg's, and they gave me rides on their rameis. “At last I made them understand that I wanted a message taken to thi white people. It took two days to go; to white civilisation by runner, although Dori was only 60 miles away. Three days later I nearly went wild with joy when I saw the man return with two native French soldiers. They brought me food —white man’s food- - and 16 gallons of petroL”