ABSTRACT
EVERY evening the Ruala occupied new pastures—such as they were—farther North. The drought in each camp was terrible. Long since I had given up the luxury of wiping my face in the morning with a moistened face-rag. In the Amir’s household Mnahi was charged with rationing the water supply. He knew nothing of liquid measures, but he soon devised one for his purpose. He put a pebble, which he always kept handy, into a small wooden bowl and, for each of us tent-mates, poured over it just enough water to cover it. It was precious little.
