National Geographic : 1958 May
living in the mountains; so you won't need an interpreter." We spent three days in the high rocks and cliffs of the Ahaggar, where we baked during the day and very nearly froze at night. And on our return le capitaine told us we might remain in Tamanrasset, but he would keep our passports until the extensions arrived. Tuareg Prince Leads Way to Tribe The Tuareg had definitely moved south in search of better grazing for their flocks. We were about to give up trying to find them when we met the local schoolmaster, M. Claude Blanguernon, an authority on Tuareg life. He introduced us to one of his former students, a tall, handsome Tuareg noble with the awesome name of Beuh Ag Ahmed. Beuh spoke excellent French and had once accompanied M. Blanguernon as far as Al giers by plane. So he was familiar with Europeans and their strange habits. He said his cousins were camping not far from "Tam." 688 He would go with us in our Land-Rover, and we should be prepared to spend a night or two camping with the tribe. Never had Mzuri carried such a distin guished passenger. Beuh sat bolt upright, his long body clothed in flowing indigo robes, head swathed in a crisp white turban, and face veiled so that only his eyes and nose re mained uncovered. His eyes were carefully made up with kohl, a mascaralike desert oint ment. His hands were slim and graceful and his arms as smooth as a woman's, with not a trace of muscle. Yet there was nothing effeminate about Beuh. Something about his expression, the way he moved, the way he used his hands, showed his proud warrior background from the days when the Tuareg ruled the desert and were feared by all. Soon we had turned off the main route south and were bouncing over rocks and stones. Then we followed a oued-a wide, shallow watercourse of gravel and sand, dry as a bone.