Part 23 (1/2)
CHAPTER XV.
FROM GHADAMES TO GHAT.
End of the Sandy Region.--No Birds of Prey in The Sahara.--Progress of the French in the Algerian Oases.--Slave Trade of The Desert supported by European Merchants.--Desolations of Sahara.--System of Living of our People.--Various Tours through Central Africa.--The Desert tenanted by harmless and Domesticated Animals.--Horribly dreary Day's March.--A Fall from my Camel.--Well of Nijberten, and its delicious Water.--Moral Character of the People of our Caravan.--Well of Tababothteen.--Camel knocked up and killed.--Mode of Killing Camels.--Pretty Aspect of The Sahara.--Some of the Ghafalah go on before the rest.--The Plain and Well of Tadoghseen.--Encounter and Adventure with the _quasi_ Bandit Sheik, Ouweek.--Enter the region of the _Jenoun_ or Genii.--Mountain Range of Wareerat.
_6th._--ROSE at day-break but did not start until after sun-rise.
Continued through the sand. Scenery as yesterday, hills heaped upon heap, group around group, and sometimes a plain of sand, furrowed in pretty tesselated squares like the sands of the sea-sh.o.r.e. I walked about three hours to ease the nagah. The camels continued to flounder in the sand, throwing over their necks their heavy burdens.
The ascents extremely difficult: people employed in scooping an inclined path for the animals. But, in the afternoon, about three, we saw through an opening of the s.h.i.+ning heaps, a blue and black waste of contiguous desert. I could not help crying out for joy, like a man at the prow who descries the port, after having been buffeted about many a stormy day by contrary winds and currents.
Much fatigued with the walking over the sands, and sick with drinking the brackish water of Mislah. Nothing _en route_ to-day except four crows, and a skeleton of a camel. This is the small crow of The Sahara (????? ???????). People pretend it does not drink water. It may live on the flesh of the few camels which drop down and die from exhaustion, and on lizards. There are, however, no vultures and ravenous birds of huge dimensions in this region of Sahara. So that,
”Where the body is, there also collect the eagles,” is not applicable to this part of The Desert, although the vulture, pouncing voraciously upon the dead man and dying camel, is an appropriate feature in Saharan landscapes. The large birds of prey do not find, as the lion, water to drink in these regions. When we got fairly upon the firm ground of Stony Sahara, I was refreshed with the sight of seven small acacia trees. This seems to be the only tree which will not surrender to the iron sceptre of Saharan desolation, for it strikes its roots into the sterility itself. A white b.u.t.terfly also, to my amazement, pa.s.sed my camel's head! Where does the little fluttering thing get its food in this region of desolation?
Another of the Souf Arabs said to me this morning, ”This sand is the country of the Souafah and the Shanbah.” If so, indeed, it would be a troublesome country for a military expedition. ”However,” said a merchant, ”the maharee can pursue the Shanbah to the last heap of their sands.” Speaking of the Shanbah last evening when we were in the midst of the sands, the Souafah said:--”When the enemy will come, we shall cover ourselves in the sand, and fire off our matchlocks. They will feel our bullets, and hear our report, and look about and see no person. We shall be covered up in the sand.” This, the Souf Arab repeated several times, and the Ghadamsee traders thought it astonis.h.i.+ngly clever and courageous.
It is reported five hundred Touaricks are soon to pursue the Shanbah into the Algerian territory. It is said also, French Arabs will support the Shanbah bandits against both Touaricks and Souafah. Such is the silly talk of our caravan. Still the French have got far south, and my Souafah companions acknowledge that some of their districts pay tribute to the Algerian authorities. This is something like _progress_, and we ought not to deceive ourselves about their movements southwards. Nothing is worse than self-deception. The Romans struggled long before they made any sensible progress in Africa, nay, several centuries. In fifteen years the French have induced a whole line of Saharan oases, more or less, to acknowledge their authority. And the thing is done cleverly enough; they do not appoint a local governor, or dispatch a single soldier, and yet they manage to get some money from these distant Saharan oases. However, this tribute must be very trifling; and were all this line of Algerian oases to pay their tribute regularly, it would be as a drop in the bucket compared with the thousands of millions of francs which have been spent, and will be spent in Algeria. Such a colony as Algeria will not only not pay, but will ruin the finances of a score of kingdoms as large as France. The politics of our moving Saharan city are mostly confined to the Pasha of Tripoli and the French in Algeria. ”When will the Pasha go, soon or late? Will another come after him? Will he be better? Will he fleece us as this despot, of all our money? Have the French many troops in Algeria? Have they more than Muley Abd-Errahman? Could they conquer Morocco? Why don't the English drive out the French from Algeria? The Mussulmans of Algeria are now corrupted by the money of the Christians.
The Bey of Tunis is the friend of the French. The Sultan of Constantinople, Mehemet Ali, and the English are against the Bey of Tunis and the French. Now, the Christians have great power in the world, but they will soon be cut off, when shall appear the new warrior of the faithful. Is the Sultan of Stamboul strong? Has he more soldiers than Moskou (Russia)? Have the French more soldiers than the English? Is Mehemet Ali to have Tripoli given him, and is he to march on to Tunis and against the French?” &c. All these, and a thousand other questions and opinions similar, agitate the sage politicians of our ghafalah: so true it is, that when we change the heavens above, we do not change our thoughts on the things below, which are left behind us.
My friend, Zalea, of Seenawan, did not come with us, he having contracted for the building of the caravansary of Emjessem, but his brother, a rough bold Arab, accompanied us, who a.s.sured me to-day,--”That all the goods of the ghafalah were the property of Christians and Jews in Tripoli, and the Ghadamseeah merchants were only their commission agents. These goods were to be exchanged for Soudan merchandise, including slaves, which latter, after being sold in Tripoli, the money of their sale would be given up to the merchants under European protection.” This is a strong confirmation of the opinion which I have expressed in my reports, ”_That the slave-traffic of Tripoli is supported by the money and goods of Europeans_.” My informant wished to know and put the question:--”If I take you (the writer) to Soudan, and bring you back safe, will you get me free from paying taxes to the Pasha?” Another observed on this,--”That's ridiculous, Yakob; if you say that Mahomet is the prophet of G.o.d, you can go safe to Soudan without the protection of any body.” I made answer to this impertinence, that such language was not proper, and if they continued to pester me with their religion, I should report them to Rais Mustapha. This at once silenced them.
Felt very sick this evening with drinking the water of Mislah. It is purging all the people like genuine Epsom.
_7th._--Started a little before sun-rise, when a clear mist was spread like a mantle of gauze over old Sahara, and lost the sight of the sand-hills in the course of the morning. I joyfully bid them adieu, though it may be very fine and Desert-like to talk and write of regions of sand and sandy billows, furrowing the bosom of Sahara. Winding about, but always making south. Wind now from the west; the sky mostly overcast, but no signs of rain. No living things _en route_, but a solitary crow, and another solitary b.u.t.terfly. The mirage again visible. Very little herbage for the camels, and no wood for the fire. On our right long ranges of low hills, dull and drear outlines of The Desert. In some ma.s.ses, the stone and earth and chalk are thrown together in confusion, as so many materials for creating a new world. Those who traverse these Saharan desolations, cannot but receive the impression, that old mother earth, slung on her balance, and revolving on her axis, has performed eternal cycles of decay and reproduction. Time was, when these heaps of desolation were fruitful fields of waving corn and smiling meadows, and fair branching woods, meandered about with running rills of silvery streams, where cattle pastured lowing, and birds sang on the trees. Now, heap upon heap, and pile upon pile of the ruins of nature deform the dreadful landscape, one feature being more hideous to look upon than the other: and the whole is a ma.s.s of blank existence, having no apparent object but to daunt and terrify the hapless wayfarer, who with his faithful camel, slowly and mournfully winds his weary way through the scene of wasteful destruction. . . . . In the sand, the pebbles are as bright and smooth as those washed by the sea-spray, or chafed by a running brook.
I have observed minutely the system of living amongst our people, and really believe they have not enough to eat. When they invite me to supper, and give me a share of _bazeen_, I always require another supper on my return, before going to bed. Besides, I always make a slight repast in the morning, which they do not. Then I eat dates and a piece of cake during the day's riding, for we never stop during the day's march. They also munch a few dates themselves. But, altogether, though I'm a moderate eater, I believe I eat every day twice, and sometimes thrice, as much as they eat. With respect to clothing, I wear double the quant.i.ty they do, and, nevertheless, feel cold at night. I may say with truth, they are poorly fed and badly clothed. It is this miserable system of living which makes them such lanky bare-boned objects. I observe, also, they feel the fatigue very much, as much as I myself, though unwell with drinking the water and serving a hard apprentices.h.i.+p to Desert-travelling.
I believe Europeans, in this season of the year, would travel these Saharan wilds with less fatigue, and in far superior style. I now walk two hours first thing every morning. Most of the merchants do the same.
Zalea said to me, ”Yakob, we (pointing to three or four of his people) are the only true men here, and understand affairs; the rest are all good-for-nothing.” Indeed, the Seenawanee Arabs are generally very excellent camel-drivers, and know the routes perfectly. We have with us a young Touarick, who never covers his head winter or summer. His hair grows long, unlike other Mohammedans, who shave the head. This Targhee tells me he is never unwell. We're encamped in a valley. As the sun sets, the sky is encharged with clouds. But usually the wind goes down a little after dark, and rises an hour or two after day-break. Fortunately, this is not a month of winds, so say the people.
As the camel moves slowly, but surely[64], on to Ghat, I still revolve in mind the various routes of the interior. I'm still as much at a loss as ever to determine which route I shall take, and have only Providence for my guide. There are various routes before me:--
1st.--To go to Soudan, _via_ Aheer, and return with the ghafalah of Ghadames, with which I proceed. This is easy and simple, but does not offer much variety.
2nd.--To proceed to Soudan, _via_ Aheer, as in the first, and return _via_ Bornou and Fezzan. This offers both variety and security.
3rd.--To proceed as before to Soudan, then Bornou, then Darfour, Kordofan, Nubia, and Egypt. This is various, new, and attended with danger, but I don't know what extent of danger.
4th.--To proceed to Soudan, Kanou, and Noufee, and then descend the Niger to the Bight of Benin. This would be a fine journey, and perhaps not attended with any very great difficulties.
5th.--To proceed to Soudan, as above, thence along the upper banks of the Niger to Timbuctoo, and return _via_ Mogador in Morocco. This I believe the most perilous of all the routes.
Any of these routes, however, could not fail to be useful to commerce, geography, and discovery. Those who take the route of descending the Niger to the ocean, will avoid a three or four months' journey over The Desert. Noufee, on the Niger, is only fifteen days from Kanou, and seven to the Atlantic.
To-day pa.s.sed several tumuli of stones, more than eight feet high, evidently placed to direct the caravans over the trackless portions of Sahara. I wonder what the people of Europe will say when I tell them, that The Desert--pictured in such frightful colours by the ancients, as teeming with monsters and wild beasts, and every unearthly and uncouth thing and being, not forgetting the dragons, salamanders, vampyres, c.o.c.katrices, and fiery-flying serpents, and as such believed in these our enlightened days--is a very harmless place, its menagerie being reduced to a few small crows, and now and then a stray b.u.t.terfly, and a few common house and cheese-and-bacon and fruit flies! these poor little domestic everyday creatures! Nay, there is not found here the wild ox, or the oudad, or the antelope, or ostrich, or the wild boar, or any other animal which inhabit and mark the Saharan regions near the north coast of Africa. It is, indeed, impossible to conceive of a country so devoid of living creatures as the route which we have traversed these last twelve days. To this must be added, that now is the favourable season for animals, and we should certainly see them if there were any to be seen.
Of the four routes to Ghat, the next to us on the west, is the shortest.
People say the route which we are now travelling is only frequented in this season, and mostly by large caravans, or scarcely ever in the summer.
_8th._--Rose at day-break and started at sunrise: as usual, the sky overcast and in an hour the wind got up and blew a strong gale awhile from the south-east. To-day Sahara looked unusually dark and drear; night as a dread pall seemed to hang on the day and all visible things--all life and animation was extinct but our lone, solitary, melancholy caravan! We moved on in deep and weary silence, not a noise, a cry, a murmur, the grumbling of the camels was even hushed. Nothing broke the horrid silence of The Desert. We wound round long-long winding valleys--
”Through many a dark and dreary vale [We] pa.s.s'd, and many a region dolorous--”
”Where all life dies.”