The south of Libya is deep sand and parched earth, desert for the most part, completely infertile, all flat land, devoid of green shoots and grass and growing things and water, except perhaps for a standing pool left by the rain—and this is turbid and stinking, unfit even for a very thirsty man to drink. For this reason the country is uninhabited—for who could live in a land so wild, arid, and barren, oppressed by continual drought? The very heat of the sun, the downright fiery hotness of the air, and the temperature of the seething sand make the country completely inaccessible.
 Only the Garamantes live near by—a slim, agile race, tent-dwellers, living for the most part by hunting. They sometimes cross into the country on hunting forays, generally about the time of the winter solstice, after waiting for rain, when most of the heat has abated and the sand, now damp, can be trodden after a fashion. They hunt for wild asses and the ostrich, monkeys a great deal, and an occasional elephant. Only these animals can stand the thirst and endure for long periods the pressure of the great fierceness of the sun. Nevertheless, as soon as the Garamantes exhaust the food they have brought with them they drive for home, for fear that the sand

 

may heat up again and become difficult and impassable and they and their spoil perish together as though caught in a trap. There is certainly no escape if the sun draws off the moisture and becomes excessively hot—it soon parches the land. Its rays are made keener by the wet and are all the more intense, wetness being fuel to the fire.
 Yet all the points I have mentioned—the heat, the lack of water, the desert, the infertility—will seem to you less unbearable than what I am going to describe, something that makes that country to be completely avoided. Crawlers of many kinds, of enormous size and in vast numbers, monstrous in shape and deadly poisonous, live in the country. Some of them live underground hiding in holes in the sand; others crawl on the surface—puff-adders, asps, vipers, horned snakes, ox-beetles, darters, double-ended snakes, pythons, and two kinds of scorpions—a big multi-jointed one that crawls on the ground, and a winged one that flies, though its wings are of membrane like those of locusts, cicadas, and bats. The number of these flying, winged creatures make that part of Libya difficult of access.
 But the most terrible reptile of all that the sand breeds is the dipsad, a snake not particularly big, resembling a viper. Its bite is strong and its poison is thick, causing immediate and lasting pain. It burns and corrodes and sets on fire and its victims scream as if lying on a pyre. But what is

 

particularly wearing and exhausting is indicated by the reptile’s name.
 Dipsad means “the thirst-causing one.” 
 Its victims suffer agonies of thirst, and, strangest of all, the more they drink the greater is their craving for water—their longing increases enormously. It is impossible ever to quench their thirst. Even if you gave them the Nile itself or the whole Ister to drink, you would only add to the burning by watering the disease—like trying to quench a fire with oil. The doctors say that this is because the thick poison flows more easily when wetted by drinking and becomes more liquid, naturally enough, and so spreads over a greater area.