Black Genesis by Robert Bauval Read Free Book Online

took three months. It was fraught with danger and drama, and, according to some, the alleged romance between Hassanein and Rosita had turned sour. No sooner had they returned to Cairo in January 1921, than Rosita and Hassanein parted company. Rosita returned to her notes and alone wrote a book,
The Secret of the Sahara: Kufara,
which was published a few months later in London. In the book, Rosita unabashedly presents herself as the leader of the expedition, and Hassanein is demoted to a glorified guide. Hassanein was too much of a gentleman to complain about this, and, to his credit, he always spoke highly of Rosita. In any case, any doubts that Rosita might have furthered about Hassanein’s leadership and abilities as an explorer were soon to be dispelled, for he was already planning—this time, singlehandedly—his next expedition into the deep Sahara. This expedition would make the Kufra journey with Rosita look like a stroll in a London park.
    THE LOST OASIS
    In the winter of 1922, hardly a year after the events with Rosita Forbes, Hassanein headed for the small Egyptian port of Sollum near the Libyan border. From there, he set out on what later would be hailed as one of the greatest desert journeys of all time—and this time there was no Rosita to steal his thunder. This time, too, Hassanein was under the full patronage of King Fouad I of Egypt and King Idris I of Lybia. This amazing and never-to-be-repeated journey is told in full in Hassanein’s paper read at the Royal Geographical Society in London and also published in the society’s journal in October 1924. Hassanein tells how he first led a camel caravan from the town of Sollum on the Mediterranean coast inland to the oasis of Siwa and from there to Kufra. After a short stay at Kufra, he took the caravan southward into totally unchartered and unexplored territory.
    There were also vague stories of the two “lost” oases of Arkenu and Uwainat lying well to the eastward of the trade route to Wadai. Those oases were almost mythical, situated as they are on no route that is travelled even by Badawi [Bedouins] or Blacks. I determined that I would go to the Sudan by way of the “lost” oases. If I could find my way to them and place them definitely on the map, it would be something worthwhile doing. . . . After leaving Kufra, the chief adventure of the expedition began. Here at last I was plunging into the untraversed and the unknown. What lay ahead? It was not the possible dangers of the journey, which made my nerves tingle and caused my spirits to mount with exhilaration—dangers are merely a part of the day’s work in the desert. It was the realization that I was to explore hidden places; that I should go through a region hitherto untrodden by one of my own kind, and make, perhaps, some contribution, small though it might be, to the sum of human
knowledge. 2
    Hassanein reached the first of the lost oases, Arkenu, after eight days of marching in blistering heat at daytime and bitter cold at night. This was a grueling trek, which he described as “the worst stretch of the entire
journey.” 3 After a few days in Arkenu, Hassanein set south toward the other lost oasis of Jebel Uwainat. He and his party traveled only at night due to the unbearable heat of day at this time of year. His Bedouin guide used the age-old tradition of night travel by navigating with the stars—which was, almost certainly, the same method used by the prehistoric people of Nabta Playa when they roamed the vast Sahara thousands of years earlier.
    The manner in which a Bedouin guide finds his way across the desert at night is a source of wonder to the uninitiated. In a region, which provides no familiar landmarks, he depends solely upon the stars. As we were proceeding in a southwesterly direction during most of our night trekking the polestar was at the guide’s back. He would glance over his shoulder, face so that the polestar would be