The Sheltering Desert: A Classic Tale of Escape and Survival in the Vastness of the Namib Desert Paperback – 1 November 2006

A lire

Fascinating story. Well worth reading!

The story is excellent but the hotos have not reproduced to be recognisable. This is explained on the back of the book but not on the sale site

"The magic of the desert is hard to define. Why does the sight of a landscape of empty sand, rocks, slab and rubble stir the spirits more than a view of lush green fields and woods? Why does the lifeless play of light, colour, and distance have such an invigorating, fascinating and elating effect ? Perhaps because no limitations are imposed by other forms of life; perhaps because the mind of the beholder is presented with a fata morgana of unlimited freedom. And on such far horizons the outline of a mountain draws the eye like an island in the endless ocean." Henno MartinThis book is magical. Whether it was in the simple straight forward story telling or in my immediate captivation by a most unlikely undertaking into a forbidding landscape I don't know, but I was hooked right off. This is an inspired account of two friends and a dog escaping from a war they did not want to participate in, and to avoid imprisonment by the German army, they drove their lorry into the most inhospitable terrain imaginable, the Namib desert, where they lived for two and one half years. Imagine as your eyes confront a bleak wasteland of gullies, fissures, gorges and barren expanses of flat, chalky soils of salt, sand and rock that stretches limitlessly toward dark distant mountain ranges. What kind of adventures could anyone expect in such a forlorn place. A good place to hide though if you possess at least some rudimentary survival skills."We stared down in fascination. It was an impressive and intimidating sight, a landscape inconceivable under a more temperate sky and in milder latitudes. Barren cliffs fell away steeply into deep ravines all around the main canyon like a wild and gigantic maze. They had a name, the "Gramadullas", and as someone had aptly said, they looked as though the Devil had created them in an idle hour."So these men and their dog lived like the bushmen; hunting, searching for water, cooking, storing, preserving , often starving but....surviving. They were both geologists with a knowledge of the land, a surplus of down home imagination, ingenuity and an indomitable spirit. I often wished I were there with them even"when the sun rose we were half buried. Our hair, eyes and ears were full of sand and at breakfast the springbok meat crunched between our teeth. The wind had become noticeably warmer and on the chalk plateau it was so strong that we could lean against it. A red veil of sand rose from a small dune into the blue sky. To the south a sand storm was raging and the dunes were covered with a reddish mist."I read about their experiences at waterholes where animals I had only seen in picture books or at a zoo were gathered to slake their thirst, sometimes communally, with natural predators next to them. Gemsbok, springbok, klipspringer, herds of zebra, ostriches, leopards, jackals and hyenas are sympathetically and adventurously described under exotic skies and shadowy rock formations. The author and his friend fabricate houses out of meager resources: mud, rocks and tamarisk. They live in caves and fashion there own tools. Together they speculate about the geological transformations in the topography. They philosophize about the evolution of Man and reasons behind war. There are stories describing their strenuous adventures following, sometimes for days, the spoors of the indigent animals in their search for water.Mr. Martins narrative is poetic. His words tapped into my unconscious as their adventures unfolded and the telling so descriptive and amicable I often wanted to be there."Our hair began to stand on end and with long bounding strides we ran from the plateau. We were hardly under the rock face when a blinding, hissing, stone-splitting fork of light dazzled us for seconds and the first great drops fell on our heads. We laughed and danced with delight--the first rain for nine months."Even if the day by day existence were totally monotonous and exhausting and there were virtually no tomorrow but just a repetition of the day gone by, I would at least be far from the chaos of war and its machine. And I would know it as sure as the silence enfolded me and the desert sheltered me as I fell asleep under a million stars."In our stone shelter we had left three narrow slits each about sixteen inches long. When we were sitting in wait early on the first morning a male ostrich came down the opposite side of the valley with a couple of hens. The cock-bird was still about four hundred yards or so away when suddenly it stopped and stared towards us. Was it possible that he had seen something at that distance?"...................."During this inspection we sat as still as mice, but the ostrich remained suspicious and refused to come any nearer." ..................."About an hour later five more ostriches came down the valley along the same track. Seeing so many springbok and gemsbok at the water they probably assumed that the coast was clear and that there was no need for special caution.But then suddenly the first cock-bird stepped into their path with out-stretched wings, obviously barring their way like a policeman halting the crowds. The gesture was unmistakeable. The newcomers stopped and they too looked over towards our hiding place, whilst the first cock-bird joined his two hens sitting in the sand.Herman and I looked at each other, speechless. Not only had these strange birds incredibly sharp eyes but they also obviously had something like a sense of responsibility even towards strange birds belonging to other flocks. The ostriches did not come down to the water at all that morning, and at midday they all marched off."Henno MartinFrom "The Nabu Domain Reprints""This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this book is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print........."

The author Henno Martin, his friend Hermann and their dog Otto hide in the Namib desert to escape internment (they are German citizens) at the start of the Second World War. They live undiscovered for three years. They are resourceful, two geologists who learn the rhythms of the desert, discover the incredible wealth of wild life around them thriving in this seemingly barren landscape. They learn to hunt, they even learn to fish (in the middle of the desert!), they learn to understand the patience of the Bushmen while stalking their prey and the stoic acceptance of failure. This beautifully written book portrays the personal growth of two men, despite deprivation, in the face of adversity. Their late night musings on the nature of humanity and the root causes of violence and its origins provide an interesting counterpoint to poetic descriptions of the changing landscape and the hunter's art.