The Doomed Oasis by Hammond Innes

Author:Hammond Innes
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-01-06T00:00:00+00:00

5.The Quicksands of Umm al Samim

Whitaker was waiting for me on that same rooftop over looking the desert, but this time he was pacing up and down it. His movements were caged and restless. He checked only momentarily as I entered. 'Will Philip Gorde come and see me, do you think?' he asked, and when I told him No, he resumed his pacing. 'After all these years, to talk to me like that!'

It was too dark for me to see his face, but I could tell from the stooped outline of his shoulders, the lowered head, above all the nervous quickness of his movements, the way he spoke, that his mood was one of desperation. 'All my life I've had to use subtlety. It's been part of my job out here. Always the need to find my way through the maze of Arab politics. Never a straight course. Always the devious approach. These oilmen out from England - stupid men like Erkhard who don't understand the Arab mentality -they don't realize the problems of these Bedou sheikhs, the feuds, the vague boundaries that didn't matter so long as it was desert sand and nothing more. History, culture, race -they go back three thousand years and more, virtually without change, untouched by Western civilization. It's a culture in which the individual is still dominant, personality and human emotions the overriding factor governing men's actions. And over all this are the outside factors -international politics, the Foreign Office. Even Philip doesn't really know the Arab - though he likes to think he does.'

It was the fact of having somebody with him of his own race. The words came out of him in a pent-up torrent. But what he said was said for his own benefit, not for mine; an attempt to justify his actions. But when he'd said it all, he turned and faced me, suddenly almost humble: 'Suppose I go to Philip myself?'

There was no point in raising his hopes. 'I don't think it would do any good.' And I told him about Gorde's visit to the PRPG.

His head came up. 'In other words, I was right. The Company's not allowed to enter into any agreement involving the Hadd border.' There was relief in his voice, but it was overlaid by the bitterness of frustration. And he added acidly, 'Nice of the Political Resident to confirm my own assessment of the situation so exactly.' His shoulders sagged; he turned his face towards the desert. 'Then I've no alternative now . . . ' He said it to himself, not to me. standing very still, looking out to where the stars met the hard line of the sands. 'Over thirty years I've been out here. Grant. I'm practically a Bedou. I think like them, act like them . . . I'm over sixty now and I know more about the Arab and Arabia . . . 'He stopped there and in the stillness I could hear the breeze rattling the palms. He turned slowly and stared at me.

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