THE ROADS LEADING TO THE OASIS
Lines of Communication between the Nile Valley, Kharga, and Dakhla
Oasis — Principal Passes out of the Oasis — Ascent to Plateau
with Caravans — Main Roads to Assiut, Sohag, Karnak, Esna, and
Edfu — Nature of intervening Plateau — Ghubbâri Road to Dakhla
— The Upper or Ain Amûr Road — The Railway between the Nile
Valley and the Oasis — Nature of Desert Roads — The Bedawin
Arabs — Cross-Country Traverses as the Crow flies — Traverse
from Farafra to Assiut — Rate of Travelling with Camels.
The oasis of Kharga is in communication with Dakhla to the west,
and with the Nile Valley to the east, by a number of caravan
routes, the most frequented of which connect directly with the two
villages Kharga and Beris, in the north and south of the depression
respectively. Formerly, everyone bound for the oasis was compelled
to undertake a four or five days’ journey along one or other of
these routes, and although nowadays most persons will elect to
cross the plateau by train, a description of the oasis would be
incomplete without some reference to the desert roads.[2]
The depression is for the most part bounded by steep and lofty
escarpments, quite inaccessible to camels, except at a few points
where the gradients are less severe, and the loose blocks of rock
and other cliff débris have been removed. The principal passes
up the eastern scarp of the oasis are seven in number, the most
northerly, known as El Ramlia, being in the extreme north-east
corner of the depression. Thirteen kilometres south of this is El
Yabsa pass. The next is the Refûf, at the head of the gully 45
kilometres north-east of Kharga village. A little farther south,
east of the old Roman fort near the foot of Jebel Ghennîma, one of
the two prominent outliers of the eastern plateau, is the pass of
Abu Sighawâl, and 35 kilometres to the south is the Nagab Bulaq,
N.N.E. of the village of Bulaq. In the south end of the oasis there
are passes to the north-east of Jaja, and N.N.E. of Dush. These
seven passes are the main exits from the depression on the east
side, though there are several other little-used routes, up which
lightly laden camels can be taken, for instance, near Jebel Um el
Ghennaim. The illustration showing the descent to the depression was,
in fact, taken at one of the latter.
Although the roads ascend the escarpments at the best available
points, in some cases taking advantage of the easier gradients of
the extensive cake-like masses of calcareous tufa, which in places
have been deposited over the face of the original cliffs, their
ascent with heavily laden camels may at times become somewhat of an
undertaking. The paths are frequently rough, and the difference in
height between the foot of the scarp and the plateau is usually
between 200 and 300 metres. The pack-saddles should always be
carefully adjusted and secured by ropes passing round the base of
the neck or below the butt of the tail, according to whether the
caravan is making the ascent or descent; otherwise the loads are
likely to slip off, and the restricted limits of a steep path,
in the middle of a train of camels, is not an ideal place for
their readjustment. In hot weather the ascent to the plateau,
though perhaps occupying only one or one and a half hours, will
take as much out of the pack-animals as a whole day’s march. I
experienced no little trouble on one occasion when returning to
the valley after some months’ survey work in Dakhla Oasis. After
halting one day at Kharga village, we proceeded on our way to Esna
by the Bulaq pass. It was hot weather, towards the end of May, and
the ascent of the pass tired our camels, naturally not in the pink of
condition, to such an extent that Gorringe and I had some difficulty
in getting them across the plateau to the valley. In summer-time it
is always advisable to negotiate this part of the journey in the
early morning or late in the evening, unless the heavier portion
of the baggage can be sent in advance to the top of the scarp,
and the animals taken back and watered at the nearest well.
[Illustration: THE CARAVAN ROUTES
TO THE
OASIS OF KHARGA]
The main roads from the oasis run to Assiut, Kawâmil near Sohag,
Waled Hallaf near Girga, Karnak near Farshut, and to Rizagat, Esna,
and Edfu, and their disposition may be seen on the accompanying plan.
The Assiut road, after leaving Kharga village, passes the hamlet of
Meheriq and follows the line of wells to Ain el Ghazâl, which is
the last place at which water-skins and tanks can be filled. From
Ain el Ghazâl the most direct route ascends to the plateau by
the Ramlia pass in the extreme corner of the depression, but the
Yabsa exit is recommended as easier and very little longer. After
crossing a tract of country with an abominably rough surface,
the two tracks unite a few kilometres north of the depression,
and about a day’s march farther on the Zarâbi road takes off on
the right. The main road proceeds direct to Assiut, descending the
scarp about 8 kilometres before the town is reached, a by-path to
the little village of Dronka having branched off beforehand.
From the summit of El Yabsa a separate road proceeds direct to El
Ghennaim, a village on the edge of the desert to the north-west
of Tahta. By these roads the distances from Kharga village to
Assiut, Zarâbi, and El Ghennaim, are 210, 200, and 180 kilometres
respectively.
El Refûf, the pass by which the Sohag (Kawâmil) road leaves the
depression, is situated at the head of a gully, and offers an easy
ascent to the plateau. A few kilometres beyond, the road passes to
the north of El Shugera, a prominent detached block perched on end
at the foot of the southern slope of a small limestone range. The
road runs in a fairly steady direction 40 degrees north of east,
striking the Nile Valley scarp 15 kilometres before Kawâmil, on
the edge of the cultivated lands, is reached. About 33 kilometres
before reaching the scarp a branch takes off and runs nearly due
north to Guhêna, south of Tahta; this branch is, in fact, usually
referred to as the Tahta road.
If the traveller, after leaving the Refûf pass, keeps to the south
of El Shugera, he will find a branch road leading to El Tundaba,
a deep shaft in the centre of the plateau, at kilometre No. 92
on the railway; a little farther east this track strikes the
main road from the Abu Sighawâl pass. The shaft is sunk through
a thick deposit of silt, which has filled a local depression in
the plateau to some depth. The silt must be regarded as rain-wash
from the surrounding country, possibly deposited in the time of
prehistoric man. Flint implements are to be found scattered about,
and from the presence of pottery and graves it would seem that the
place had been inhabited in comparatively modern times. The pit was
evidently sunk for water, although at the present time it is quite
dry; given, however, a heavy thunderstorm within the catchment-basin,
drainage-water would in all probability find its way to the bottom
of the deposit, where it would be held up by the limestone, and
might form a supply lasting possibly for many years.
The road leaving the depression by the Abu Sighawâl pass, and
leading to villages in the neighbourhood of Girga and Farshut,
is reckoned the best and shortest route between Kharga and the
Nile Valley, and, by making a very short détour, caravans have
the advantage of being able to water at the old Roman fort at
the base of Jebel Ghennîma, 27 kilometres after leaving the
village. The ascent of the pass was formerly very rough going,
but a good road with an easy gradient has recently been cut for
the transport of heavy boring machinery into the oasis. From the
top of the Abu Sighawâl pass a well-marked track crosses to El
Refûf and connects with the Sohag road, and care has to be taken
by travellers for Waled Hallaf, El Elwania and Karnak not to make
the initial mistake of getting on to this track.
For the first few kilometres the main road from Abu Sighawâl runs
very straight over a level plain, on which fossil sea-urchins are
so abundant as to attract the attention of the most casual observer;
it then ascends a low escarpment, the Nagab el Jellab. The somewhat
rough limestone country beyond is known as the Mishâbit, and then El
Botîkh, with its countless millions of spherical chert concretions,
is crossed. Beyond El Botîkh the road passes an isolated limestone
hill called El Mograbi, where tradition has it that a Mograbi
Arab from the west and his stolen oasis bride were overtaken and
decapitated by the Kharga people. A little farther to the east there
is a bifurcation, but the branches soon rejoin, and after passing El
Masaâd the plain is fairly level, though covered with very angular
blocks of crystalline limestone and cherty concretions. Farther on
are the rocks of El Buraig, where large quantities of broken pottery
indicate the site of one of the many water-stations maintained
by the Romans along this road. Garat el Melh is so called from
the occurrence of salt in the limestones of this locality. A few
kilometres to the east of Garat el Melh the road passes El Suâga,
an artificial heap of stones to which every self-respecting Bedawi
is careful to contribute; and a couple of hours beyond, a fairly
conspicuous limestone hill, called Garat Radwan, is reached.
Shortly after passing Garat Radwan the most prominent landmarks
met with on this road, in the form of two solitary crescent-shape
sand-dunes, loom into sight; these are called El Ghart by the Arabs
and are distant 55 kilometres from Abu Sighawâl. They form part
of a belt of single isolated dunes which crosses this part of the
desert in a N.N.W. and S.S.E. direction. The same line of dunes
is passed by the railway at kilometre No. 100, and I have observed
its continuation still farther north on the Sohag road, at a point
45 kilometres from the Refûf pass. These dunes mark the entrance
to an area of very rough hummocky crystalline limestone known as
El Zizagat, through which the track is not easily followed. On
emerging from El Zizagat the road bears slightly to the north, and
is here only a few kilometres south of El Tundaba. At this point it
bifurcates, the northern branch proceeding direct to Waled Hallaf
near Girga, the southern continuing over the easy level plains of El
Ishab to the rocks of El Baglûli, and thence past those of Dilail
el Kelb to the twin hillocks of Dubîya. Beyond El Dubîya the road
crosses the shallow drainage-line of Rod el Ghanam, near the head
of the Wadi Samhûd, down which it passes, and thence over the Nile
Valley plains past El Hamera and Hagar Hawara to Karnak and Farshut.
It should be mentioned that at Rod el Ghanam, shortly before
reaching the head of the Wadi Samhûd, a branch road takes off on
the left-hand side and descends by a separate pass to El Elwania;
and here again care has to be exercised to avoid taking the wrong
branch, as the tracks cover a broad area, and the actual junction
may be easily missed.
The Kharga-Waled Hallaf road, via the Abu Sighawâl pass, is the
shortest route from the oasis to the Nile Valley, the distance
being only 160 kilometres; that to Karnak, by the Wadi Samhûd,
is somewhat longer, being approximately 174 kilometres.
The next pass of importance to the south lies east of the village of
Bulaq, whence it takes its name. From the summit a road runs nearly
due east, meeting a second, starting from Beris and gaining the
plateau by the Jaja pass, after one and a half days’ march. From
the cross-roads, ‘El Mafâriq,’ routes run direct to Farshut and
Rizagat. From Beris to Farshut, by the Jaja pass, the distance is
approximately 224 kilometres; from Kharga, by the Bulaq pass, the
roads to Farshut and Rizagat measure about 203 and 198 kilometres
respectively. Another road from Beris leaves the depression by a
pass to the east of the village of Dush; this bifurcates about two
days’ march from the latter, the left-hand track leading to Esna,
the right to Edfu. Other roads lead from the south end of the oasis,
via Nakhail, to Kurkur and Dungun, while the Derb el Arbaîn runs
southwards to Selîma and thence on to the Sudan.
The road between the oasis and Assiut is best known as being the last
and worst portion of the Derb el Arbaîn, or forty days’ road,
which, starting from Darfur, was originally one of the main lines
of communication between Egypt and the Sudan. It was along this
desert route that great numbers of slaves and large quantities of
merchandise, such as ivory, gum, and other products of the Sudan,
were imported into Egypt from the south. After passing the last
spring in the oasis, caravans had still a little over 200 kilometres
to cover before reaching the Nile Valley, with a steep ascent to
the plateau at the outset, and thence for a considerable distance
over the very worst surface imaginable—loose sand full of sharp
angular blocks and fragments of flint and cherty limestone. Little
wonder that, overladen and fatigued by the long distance already
covered, the camels died in great numbers on this last stretch of
road. Along most desert routes the dried bones of camels are of
fairly frequent occurrence, but on the Derb el Arbaîn, between
Kharga and Assiut, the skeletons of these poor beasts are met
with in groups of tens and twenties, and must number hundreds and
thousands. In many instances the skeleton still lies undisturbed,
in the position assumed by the luckless animal in its death agony,
the long neck curved back by muscular contraction so that the skull
lies in contact with the spine. When one sees these remains, half
buried in the sand, the bones bleached snow-white by a pitiless
sun, with still adhering fragments of skin and muscle dried hard
as adamant, one cannot but feel pity for those patient ‘ships of
the desert,’ wrecked almost within sight of port.
Cailliaud, in 1817, observed the arrival at Assiut of a large
caravan from Darfur, consisting of 16,000 individuals. It included
6,000 slaves—men, women, and children. He remarks: “They had
been two months travelling in the deserts, in the most intense heat
of the year; meagre, exhausted, and the aspect of death on their
countenances, the spectacle strongly excited compassion.”
The actual width of the plateau varies from 120 kilometres between
Abu Sighawâl and the scarp above Waled Hallaf, to 200 kilometres
between Beris and Esna. The maximum elevation above sea-level
is about 550 metres on the latitude of Esna, and on the whole
the plateau has a fairly general slope to the north. As already
mentioned, several distinct types of country, depending on the nature
of the rocks constituting the surface strata, are met with. Smooth,
hard, level plains, formed of a superficial layer of weathered
limestone covered by a brown veneer of insoluble flint and cherty
fragments, alternate with bare rugged rock desert of hummocky
limestone. The sombre level or gently undulating flint-covered
plains, frequently spoken of as ‘serir’ by the Arabs, have
ideal surfaces for travelling; the light-coloured hummocky country,
often called ‘kharafish,’ is in its most developed form made
up of innumerable elongated hillocks, every portion of the exposed
rock-surfaces being deeply scored; the furrows are separated by
upstanding edges, often so sharp and knife-like as to be capable
of injuring the feet of man and beast. The hillocks are separated
by deep troughs half buried in drift-sand, all lying parallel,
in the direction of the prevailing winds, so that progress in a
latitudinal direction through this type of desert is a slow and
tedious undertaking. Both types of country are equally desolate and
barren, scrub of any description being of the rarest occurrence,
except after local thunderstorms. Another type of country, to which
we have already briefly alluded, is the curious desert-surface called
El Botîkh (the water-melons), which results from the weathering
of certain bands of the Lower Eocene formation containing numbers
of large globular concretions; these, it may be mentioned, often
lie so thickly strewn on the surface as to actually obstruct the
passing caravan.
Kharga is connected with the oasis of Dakhla to the west by two
roads, the lower and more southerly, known as the Derb el Ghubbâri,
being the one most frequently used. This road, by taking a wide
sweep to the south, avoids the intervening plateau altogether,
so that the fatiguing ascent and descent are avoided. After
leaving Kharga village the route leads past a group of wells,
known as Ain Khenâfish, distant some 6 kilometres; thence it lies
over wide-stretching plains of sandstone, leading up to the more
broken country formed by the foot-hills of the towering plateau,
which is always plainly visible on the north side of the road. The
distance to Tenîda, the most easterly of the Dakhla villages,
is 143 kilometres by the Derb el Ghubbâri.
The alternative route by way of Ain Amûr is appreciably shorter,
though, owing to the extra time involved in negotiating the steep
passes to and from the plateau, there is little saving in time when
travelling with a heavily-laden caravan. Compared with the lower
road, however, this route is much more interesting and picturesque,
and the presence of water at Ain Amûr, about half-way between the
two oases, is a distinct advantage. The road from Kharga village
lies over a broad plain, whose only features are occasional conical
hills of dark ferruginous sandstone. It follows a W.N.W. direction,
heading for the great indentation to the west of the Jebel Tarif
range. After getting well into the recess, but when still some 15
kilometres from its head, the road turns abruptly to the south,
and winds its way up an escarpment littered with huge blocks of
tufaceous limestone. Perched near the summit of the cliffs stands
the solitary palm which marks the site of the water-hole, in the
immediate neighbourhood of which grows a fair amount of prickly
scrub. The remains of mud-brick buildings and a stone temple show
that this place was formerly inhabited, and of some importance.
The ascent to the plateau from Ain Amûr needs care with laden
camels. The road proceeds up a narrow defile, the actual track being
very rough, and so confined that in places the packs are liable to
be dragged off by the rocks on either side. Once on the plateau the
going becomes first rate, the freedom of the surface from blown sand
being very noticeable. This is due to the isolation of this portion
of the plateau-massif, which is cut off from the main mass to the
north by the deep recess, and is bounded by a low-lying plain to
the south. After a distance of 33 kilometres has been traversed the
road descends into a narrow valley opening on to the low country
to the south, and proceeds in a westerly direction to Tenîda. The
distance from Kharga to Tenîda by this route is 128 kilometres.
It is possible on leaving Ain Amûr to cross to the top of the
indentation, and thence to proceed across the plateau almost due
west, striking the road from Assiut, known as the Derb el Tawîl, at
the top of the pass 25 kilometres from the village of Belat. There
is, however, no track, and the surface is covered with parallel
north and south ridges of rock, the crossing of which is extremely
wearisome. Both near the head of the Ain Amûr recess and in the
extreme north-west corner of the oasis very old tracks trending in
westerly and northwesterly directions are observable, and although
unused at the present day, these may mark the positions of formerly
frequented routes leading to the oasis of Farafra. At the present
time that oasis is not in direct communication with Kharga, the
routes used being from Manfalut in the Nile Valley, from Qasr Dakhl
in the oasis of Dakhla, and from Ain el Hais in Baharia.
Before leaving the subject of roads we must briefly refer to
the route taken by the railway. The line, which has a gauge of 75
centimetres, was built by the Corporation of Western Egypt, Limited,
to develop their concessions in the oasis. It commences at Mouaslet
el Kharga, a new station on the Egyptian State Railway near Farshut,
and crosses to the border of the desert, a few kilometres distant, by
way of one of the embankments separating two of the great irrigation
basins of Upper Egypt. At the edge of the desert is the station
of El Qara, the point of departure for the oasis. After skirting
the margin of the Nile Valley cultivation for a short distance it
heads straight for the Wadi Samhûd, by means of which the plateau
is gained without encountering any very heavy gradients. From the top
of the Wadi Samhûd the line follows the Abu Sighawâl road for about
40 kilometres, after which it diverges a few degrees and proceeds to
El Tundaba, the shaft already described, 92 kilometres from Mouaslet
el Kharga. From El Tundaba the railway follows more or less closely
the cross-track, sometimes called the Derb el Refûf, which joins
the Sohag road at El Shugera, and, entering the depression by the
Refûf pass, follows down the gully, and thence across the plain to
the station of Meheriq. From Meheriq it proceeds nearly due south
to the Corporation’s headquarters, and thence on to its present
terminus a few kilometres from Kharga village.
[Illustration: THE RAILWAY DESCENDING INTO THE OASIS.]
My friend Ball lays great stress on the tortuous nature of the roads
between the oasis and the valley, and recommends the scientific
traveller to steer an independent course. But after traversing
the majority of the main caravan roads, and with a fairly intimate
knowledge of the characters of the intervening areas, I must say
that, in my opinion, it would be difficult to better them. These
roads were not laid out yesterday, but result from the accumulated
experience of centuries. The original tracks may have been tortuous
enough, but they have become straightened out by the cutting off of
corners here and there, until at the present day the roads fulfil
the three most important objects in view—the ascent and descent to
and from the plateau at the points offering the easiest gradients,
and the crossing of the plateau itself as directly as possible over
the smoothest and most level ground available. The roads give a wide
berth to the outcrops of rough limestone, and anyone who has done
much cross-country travelling in the Libyan Desert will appreciate
their doing so.
Nor can I concur with the same author in his opinion that the Bedawin
of this side of the Nile have a poor knowledge of their beloved
desert. It is certainly true that the Arab does, for very good
reasons, prefer to travel on the beaten tracks rather than undertake
exploratory missions as the crow flies, his main object being to get
to his destination as rapidly and easily as possible. If by chance,
however, rain should fall on any portion of the desert, the Arab
will very shortly be found there, taking full advantage of what
Allah has provided in the way of free grazing for his herds. My own
experience has been that the Arabs have among them a fair proportion
of men with an extensive knowledge of the western desert, and I have
frequently been struck by their wonderful knowledge of the roads and
the facility with which many of them can follow the tracks on the
blackest of nights, as even in broad daylight the landmarks which
a European could recognize on second acquaintance are few and far
between. The average Bedawi cannot be said to have exceptionally
long sight, but he is frequently possessed of a wonderful sense
of direction.
Travellers in the Egyptian deserts are apt to underrate
the intelligence of the Bedawin, owing to the fact that they
unconsciously form their impressions from the miserable specimens
of humanity so frequently sent out by the actual owners of the
camels to act as drivers and attendants to a hired caravan. In such
caravans there is seldom more than one man who knows the particular
roads to be followed; the rest are wretched underfed creatures,
generally half-breeds, who for a mere pittance tramp day after day,
uncomplainingly and shoeless, alongside the caravan. They are much
to be pitied, and it would be as unreasonable to expect them to
have any special knowledge of the desert as it would be to look
for information regarding, say, the mountains of Wales among the
poorer classes of a Welsh town.
I do not wish to minimize the value of cross-country traverses
carried out with special scientific objects; they are, indeed,
often necessary for topographical and geological purposes. I
would, however, warn the enthusiastic tyro that, in the Libyan
Desert, travelling as the crow flies is not always so simple and
glorious an affair as it may seem when planning expeditions from
a comfortable arm-chair; and if his object is to get a short
cut he will probably have reason to bitterly regret the moment
he left the beaten track. I have in mind more than one instance
where mistakes of this kind have been made, mistakes which might
easily have led to disastrous consequences. In long cross-country
traverses an error in steering of only two or three degrees will in
a few marches throw a caravan many kilometres out of its course,
and guiding camels over rough country by compass is by no means
an easy undertaking. Moreover, easily distinguishable landmarks
are rare, and the desert plains over wide areas maintain remarkably
persistent characteristics. Quite recently I recollect an Englishman,
whose Arab attendant had become suddenly incapacitated by an attack
of fever or sunstroke, getting hopelessly astray between the edge
of the plateau overlooking the oasis and rail-head, which was then
only 20 or 30 kilometres distant, in consequence of his missing
the bifurcation of the road at El Shugera, and proceeding, owing
to this mistake, along the route leading to Sohag.
Along the caravan roads the sharp fragments of rock have been stamped
underground or kicked to one side, but elsewhere they usually litter
the surface, and are very trying to camels, whose pads, though
soft and yielding, are easily worn by much travelling over rough
country. This has more than once been painfully impressed upon me by
the antics of my own riding camel, whose mode of progression at such
times resembled more the dance of a fanatic on red-hot coals than the
ordinary gait of a well-bred ‘hegîn.’ Over some areas, however,
one can travel in a straight line without let or hindrance, and in
such cases it is only necessary to lay out the course correctly in
the first instance, and to have the courage of one’s opinion to
stick to that course until the destination is reached. One must
not heed the remonstrances of the less sporting members of the
expedition, who will lose no opportunity of predicting disaster,
and in this respect the new chum fresh out from home is generally
the greatest offender.
One of the longest cross-country traverses I myself have undertaken
in the Libyan Desert was from Farafra Oasis to Assiut. The only
road between that oasis and the Nile Valley strikes the latter
near El Qusîya, midway between the towns Manfalut and Derut, so
that travellers who wish to make Assiut have an additional day’s
march southwards alongside the margin of the cultivated lands. On
gaining the summit of the pass above Bir Murr, on the east side
of the Farafra depression, I abandoned the road and set a course
direct for Assiut, steering and plotting my route by compass and
plane-table, the distance being reckoned by measuring-wheel. The
most satisfactory method of procedure on desert traverses is to lay
out a line, representing the correct bearing of the destination,
along the centre of the longer axis of the plane-table, and then
to steer to any well-marked object lying on either side, but within
reasonable distance, of the proper course. At every station the exact
position reached is plotted, and steps are taken, when selecting
the next point on which to march, to converge towards the correct
course marked down the centre of the table.
On this particular traverse I was unaccompanied by Europeans or
Bedawin, my camel drivers being fellahin from the Nile Valley. The
surface proved excellent going, and the Abu Mohariq belt of dunes,
190 kilometres from Qasr Farafra, was crossed without trouble. Eight
days after leaving Farafra village we struck the escarpment of
the Nile Valley, having covered nearly 300 kilometres, and found
we were marching on a point only very little to one side of the
town of Assiut. From this traverse it was possible to calculate
the longitude of Farafra with fair accuracy.
The normal rate of travelling of camels carrying ordinary loads
weighing from three to four hundred-weight is 4 kilometres, or
about 2½ miles, an hour, ten hours being the usual day’s march
of caravans when accompanied by Europeans. The native caravans,
carrying dates and other heavy merchandise, usually traverse
the plateau in three days and nights, doing stages of 60 to 70
kilometres at a stretch. By travelling very light with trotting
camels I have, on more than one occasion, crossed from the oasis
to the valley in between thirty and thirty-five hours, doing from
180 to 190 kilometres in two stages of about twelve hours each,
with one stop only of nine or ten hours.