National Geographic : 1934 Jan
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE Photograph by James C. Wilson SEA AND DESERT JOIN IN ERITREA A consignment from the ship (upper right) is transferred to the hump of an unwilling drome dary, which complains constantly during the loading process-snorting, groaning, twisting, and even biting; hence the muzzle. This beach at Massaua was the end of the Expedition's trail. improvised forge; the Glovers; the "hyena" that jumped out into the trail; the ever lasting sand and the heat. Half an hour later we were in Khartoum, and the rush of things present ended my dream. There was mail-a bushel of it the first in five months! NEW TEETH AND ICE CREAM There was a real, honest-to-goodness garage, with a sign that said, "No checks cashed here." An Austrian dentist could make Flood a new set of teeth. Followed dinners, receptions, 700 Eng lishmen asking, "But, my dear chap, how did you do it?"-and ice cream! They knew we were Americans, and we were offered ice cream everywhere. The rest is soon told. It is 600 miles from Khartoum to Massaua, a little Ital ian port on the Red Sea; 250 miles of desert, as flat and bare as any place in Africa, and only four wells in the whole stretch. But that was nothing, after what we had been through. We met a few Fuzz- ies (see illustration, page 70), but didn't stop long to visit, because we were already beginning to wonder what India was like. Then came Kassala, the Italian frontier, and a good military road. Up and over the Red Sea hills we went, and saw-Mas saua in the distance, and that blue sheet of water that we'd started for almost five months ago. But listen-Crack, crack! Bumpety bump, bump! Aw, gee! there goes another side-car frame-broken clean in two this time. Never mind; here's a piece of rope. Tie it up. We'll get there now, even if we have to carry the bikes on our shoulders! Down the little main street of Massaua to the beach we drove, and stood silently looking out over the water for several minutes. The Italians had not even heard that we had started, and of course they didn't know we had arrived. "Well," said Flood, "we're here." A week later we shipped for India, first class, on an oil-burner that served six meals a day and had a bath in every stateroom.