"So I killed Captain Morhange," André de Saint-Avit said to me the
next day, at the same time, in the same place, with a calm that took
no account of the night, the frightful night I had just been through.
"Why do I tell you this? I don't know in the least. Because of the
desert, perhaps. Are you a man capable of enduring the weight of that
confidence, and further, if necessary, of assuming the consequences it
may bring? I don't know that, either. The future will decide. For the
present there is only one thing certain, the fact, I tell you again,
that I killed Captain Morhange.
"I killed him. And, since you want me to specify the reason, you
understand that I am not going to torture my brain to turn it into a
romance for you, or commence by recounting in the naturalistic manner
of what stuff my first trousers were made, or, as the neo-Catholics
would have it, how often I went as a child to confession, and how much
I liked doing it. I have no taste for useless exhibitions. You will
find that this recital begins strictly at the time when I met
Morhange.
"And first of all, I tell you, however much it has cost my peace of
mind and my reputation, I do not regret having known him. In a word,
apart from all question of false friendship, I am convicted of a black
ingratitude in having killed him. It is to him, it is to his knowledge
of rock inscriptions, that I owe the only thing that has raised my
life in interest above the miserable little lives dragged out by my
companions at Auxonne, and elsewhere.
"This being understood, here are the facts:"
[NOTE: From this point on begins an extended narrative;
indeed it may be most of the remaining book.
I was changing the quoting, until I reached the end
of the chapter and found that it continued on from there.]
It was in the Arabian Office at Wargla, when I was a lieutenant, that
I first heard the name, Morhange. And I must add that it was for me
the occasion of an attack of bad humor. We were having difficult
times. The hostility of the Sultan of Morocco was latent. At Touat,
where the assassination of Flatters and of Frescaly had already been
concocted, connivance was being given to the plots of our enemies.
Touat was the center of conspiracies, of razzias, of defections, and
at the same time, the depot of supply for the insatiable nomads. The
Governors of Algeria, Tirman, Cambon, Laferriere, demanded its
occupation. The Ministers of War tacitly agreed.... But there was
Parliament, which did nothing at all, because of England, because of
Germany, and above all because of a certain _Declaration of the Rights
of Man and of the Citizen_, which prescribed that insurrection is the
most sacred of duties, even when the insurgents are savages who cut
your head off. In short, the military authority could only, at its own
discretion, increase the southern garrisons, and establish new posts;
this one, Berresof, Hassi-el-Mia, Fort MacMahon, Fort Lallemand, Fort
Miribel.... But as Castries puts it, you don't hold the nomads with
bordjs, you hold them by the belt. The middle was the oasis of Touat.
Their honors, the lawyers of Paris, had to be convinced of the
necessity of taking possession of the oasis of Touat. The best way
would be to present them with a faithful picture of the plots that
were being woven there against us.
The principal authors were, and still are, the Senoussis, whose able
chief has been forced by our arms to transfer the seat of his
confederation several thousand leagues from there, to Schimmedrou, in
the Tibesti. They had, I say _they_ through modesty, the idea of
ascertaining the traces left by these agitators on their favorite
places of concourse; Rhât, Temassinin, the plain of Adejamor, and
In-Salah. It was, you see, at least after leaving Temassinin,
practically the same itinerary as that followed in 1864 by General
Rohlfs.
I had already attracted some attention by two excursions, one to
Agadès, and the other to Bilma, and was considered by the staff
officers to be one of the best informed on the Senoussis question. I
was therefore selected to assume this new task.
I then suggested that it would be of interest to kill two birds with
one stone, and to get, in passing, an idea of the northern Ahaggar, so
as to make sure whether the Tuaregs of Ahitarhen had continued to have
as cordial relations with the Senoussis as they had had when they
combined to massacre the Flatters' mission. I was immediately accorded
the permission. The change in my first plan was as follows: After
reaching Ighelaschem, six hundred kilometers south of Temassinin,
instead of taking the direct road to Touat via Rhât, I would,
penetrating between the high land of Mouydir and Ahaggar, strike off
to the southwest as far as Shikh-Salah. Here I would turn again
northwards, towards In-Salah, by the road to the Soudan and Agadès. In
all hardly eight kilometers additional in a trip of about seven
hundred leagues, with the certainty of making as complete an
examination as possible of the roads which our enemies, the Senoussis
of Tibesti and the Tuareg of the Ahaggar, must follow to arrive at
Touat. On the way, for every explorer has his pet fancy, I was not at
all displeased to think that I would have a chance to examine the
geological formation of the plateau of Egere, about which Duveyrier
and the others are so disappointingly indefinite.
Everything was ready for my departure from Wargla. Everything, which
is to say, very little. Three mehara: mine, my companion Bou-Djema's
(a faithful Chaamba, whom I had had with me in my wanderings through
the Air, less of a guide in the country I was familiar with than a
machine for saddling and unsaddling camels), then a third to carry
provisions and skins of drinking water, very little, since I had taken
pains to locate the stops with reference to the wells.
Some people go equipped for this kind of expedition with a hundred
regulars, and even cannon. I am for the tradition of Douls and René
Callie, I go alone.
I was at that perfect moment when only one thin thread still held me
to the civilized world when an official cable arrived at Wargla.
"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," it said briefly, "will delay his departure
until the arrival of Captain Morhange, who will accompany him on his
expedition of exploration."
I was more than disappointed. I alone had had the idea of this
expedition. I had had all the difficulty that you can imagine to make
the authorities agree to it. And now when I was rejoicing at the idea
of the long hours I would spend alone with myself in the heart of the
desert, they sent me a stranger, and, to make matters worse, a
superior.
The condolences of my comrades aggravated my bad humor.
The Yearly Report, consulted on the spot, had given them the following
information:
"Morhange (Jean-Marie-François), class of 1881. Breveted. Captain,
unassigned. (Topographical Service of the Army.)"
"There is the explanation for you," said one. "They are sending one of
their creatures to pull the chestnuts out of the fire, after you have
had all the trouble of making it. Breveted! That's a great way. The
theories of Ardant du Picq or else nothing about here."
"I don't altogether agree with you," said the Major. "They knew in
Parliament, for some one is always indiscreet, the real aim of
Saint-Avit's mission: to force their hand for the occupation of Touat.
And this Morhange must be a man serving the interests of the Army
Commission. All these people, secretaries, members of Parliament,
governors, keep a close watch on each other. Some one will write an
amusing paradoxical history some day, of the French Colonial
Expansion, which is made without the knowledge of the powers in
office, when it is not actually in spite of them."
"Whatever the reason, the result will be the same," I said bitterly;
"we will be two Frenchmen to spy on each other night and day, along
the roads to the south. An amiable prospect when one has none too much
time to foil all the tricks of the natives. When does he arrive?"
"Day after tomorrow, probably. I have news of a convoy coming from
Ghardaia. It is likely that he will avail himself of it. The
indications are that he doesn't know very much about traveling alone."
Captain Morhange did arrive in fact two days later by means of the
convoy from Ghardaia. I was the first person for whom he asked.
When he came to my room, whither I had withdrawn in dignity as soon as
the convoy was sighted, I was disagreeably surprised to foresee that I
would have great difficulty in preserving my prejudice against him.
He was tall, his face full and ruddy, with laughing blue eyes, a small
black moustache, and hair that was already white.
"I have a thousand apologies to make to you, my dear fellow," he said
immediately, with a frankness that I have never seen in any other man.
"You must be furious with my importunity in upsetting your plans and
delaying your departure."
"By no means, Captain," I replied coolly.
"You really have only yourself to blame. It is on account of your
knowledge of the southern, routes, so highly esteemed at Paris, that I
wished to have you to initiate me when the Ministries of Instruction
and of Commerce, and the Geographical Society combined to charge me
with the mission which brings me here. These three honorable
institutions have in fact entrusted me with the attempt to
re-establish the ancient track of the caravans, which, from the ninth
century, trafficked between Tunis and the Soudan, by Toweur, Wargla,
Es-Souk and the bend of the Bourroum; and to study the possibility of
restoring this route to its ancient splendor. At the same time, at the
Geographic Bureau, I heard of the journey that you are undertaking.
From Wargla to Shikh-Salah our two itineraries are the same. Only I
must admit to you that it is the first voyage of this kind that I have
ever undertaken. I would not be afraid to hold forth for an hour on
Arabian literature in the amphitheatre of the School of Oriental
Languages, but I know well enough that in the desert I should have to
ask for directions whether to turn right or left. This is the only
chance which could give me such an opportunity, and at the same time
put me under obligation for this introduction to so charming a
companion. You must not blame me if I seized it, if I used all my
influence to retard your departure from Wargla until the instant when
I could join you. I have only one more word to add to what I have
said. I am entrusted with a mission which by its origin is rendered
essentially civilian. You are sent out by the Ministry of War. Up to
the moment when, arrived at Shikh-Salah we turn our backs on each
other to attain, you Touat, and I the Niger, all your recommendations,
all your orders, will be followed by a subaltern, and, I hope, by a
friend as well."
All the time he was talking so openly I felt delightedly my worst
recent fears melting away. Nevertheless, I still experienced a mean
desire to show him some marks of reserve, for having thus disposed of
my company at a distance, without consulting me.
"I am very grateful to you, Captain, for your extremely flattering
words. When do you wish to leave Wargla?"
He made a gesture of complete detachment.
"Whenever you like. Tomorrow, this evening. I have already delayed
you. Your preparations must have already been made for some time."
My little maneuver had turned against myself. I had not been counting
on leaving before the next week.
"Tomorrow, Captain, but your luggage?"
He smiled delightfully.
"I thought it best to bring as little as possible. A light pack, some
papers. My brave camel had no difficulty in bringing it along. For the
rest I depend on your advice, and the resources of Owargla."
I was well caught. I had nothing further to say. And moreover, such
freedom of spirit and manner had already captivated me.
"It seems," said my comrades, when the time for aperitives had brought
us all together again, "that this Captain of yours is a remarkably
charming fellow."
"Remarkably."
"You surely can't have any trouble with him. It is only up to you to
see that later on he doesn't get all the glory."
"We aren't working with the same end in view," I answered evasively.
I was thoughtful, only thoughtful I give you my word. From that moment
I harbored no further grudge against Morhange. Yet my silence
persuaded him that I was unforgiving. And everyone, do you hear me,
everyone said later on, when suspicions became rife:
"He is surely guilty. We saw them go off together. We can affirm it."