ROUTE FROM EL-BADJA TO TABARCA.
My original plan had been to cross the Algerian frontier at El-Kef,
and so proceed northwards to La Calle. But a paragraph in the
last commercial report of my colleague, Mr. Wood, H.M. Agent and
Consul-General at Tunis, induced me to modify my plans.
He says:—‘The Kabyles inhabit the mountains between the Pashalik of
Tripoli and the Regency of Tunis to the south, as well as the ranges
forming the western boundary which divides Tunis from Algiers. The
former are docile and submissive when compared with the Kabyles of
the west, who barely recognise the authority of Government. These
latter are jealous, suspicious, and inhospitable. They allow no
foreigner (not even an Arab) to visit their mountain fastnesses,
which are protected by rugged ascents, and surrounded by the densest
of forests. No approximate estimate can be possibly arrived at as to
their numbers; but we know that they are able to bring 18,000 fighting
men to the battle field.’
This tallied exactly with the information I had received from all
other sources, and in Algeria to cross the frontier near La Calle
was believed to be impossible.
But I had travelled a good deal amongst the Kabyles of Algeria, both
in the Djurdjura range and in the Aures Mountains, and I was rather
incredulous as to their extreme ferocity. At all events, I determined
to make the experiment, and my companion was quite as eager as I was.
On our arrival at El-Badja we communicated our plans to the Kaid,
who strongly dissuaded us from attempting even to reach Tabarca
by land, but on our declaring that we would only abandon the idea
on his formally assuring us that it was impossible and refusing us
permission to make the attempt, he so far gave in as to admit that
the route from El-Badja to Tabarca might be practicable, but any
idea of penetrating the country of the Khomair must be dismissed from
our minds as an impossibility. We discussed the question fully over
our coffee, M. Gandolphe and the Miralai entertained us with a duet
recounting the terrible atrocities of which this ferocious tribe had
been guilty; their ignorant and savage nature was such that the moment
they saw a European they fired upon him without further question,
under the impression that he was a wild beast. Jews had been allowed
to pass, but their squalid and filthy dress so nearly approached
that of the Khomair themselves as to excite no suspicion; in fact, we
were rushing upon our doom, and they washed their hands of the whole
transaction. We compromised matters by accepting the Kaid’s offer of
two extra spahis to escort us, and we telegraphed to beg the French
Commandant at La Calle to send us a boat to Tabarca, in the event
of our having to abandon the idea of reaching his station by land.
We left El-Badja at six o’clock on April 25; the weather had been
unsettled for several days, but the rain had generally fallen at night
only, and as it had poured continuously for the past twelve hours,
we entertained strong hopes that it would clear up on this occasion
also. We packed our luggage with extra care, covered the mule bearing
Kingston’s precious photographic apparatus with a waterproof sheet,
and bade an affectionate farewell to our amiable host.
The country through which we passed was extremely rich and well
cultivated, and the scenery grander than anything we had yet seen,
but the weather was so bad that it quite spoiled the enjoyment of
our journey; the rain fell in torrents, and the wind was so high
that we could with difficulty keep our seats in passing over some
of the most exposed hill-sides. This was no great hardship for us,
our excellent waterproofs kept out every drop of moisture; but the
poor spahis, with their woollen bernouses were in a far less happy
frame of mind. It is true that these are nearly as impervious to
rain as indiarubber cloaks, but they become very heavy when wet,
and as they have also to serve as bedclothes during the night,
it is a serious matter to have them thoroughly saturated during
the day. They would fain have turned back before we had been out
half an hour; but, as we were determined to advance at all hazards,
they could not but accompany us.
At about 13 miles from El-Badja the mountains approach in front, and
a stream forces its way through a narrow and well-wooded pass called
Khanga Kef et-Toot, or _pass of the mulberry tree hill_. The river was
very much swollen when we crossed it. I feel sure that an hour later
it must have been unfordable. In the pass is a hot spring, but it was
absorbed into the general torrent, and we could not distinguish it.
This is the entrance to the district of Nefsa, a region even more
fertile, better cultivated and more thickly peopled than that we
had just passed through; in addition it has the charm of being well
wooded, principally with wild olive trees.
During the whole of this day’s ride we observed no traces of Roman
occupation nor did the enquiries we made of the Arabs we met elicit
any satisfactory evidence that such exist off the line of our route,
except near the sea coast; they assured us, however, that there
were some remarkable caves in the mountains, most probably those
described by Peyssonnel, who, when visiting the French factory at
Cape Negro, says:—
‘I accompanied the assistants who went hunting in the territories
occupied by an Arab nation called Nevesins (_Nefsaouin_, or people
of Nefsa), five leagues from Cape Negro, on the way to Bega. On the
road we went to see the holes in the mountains cut with chisels in the
living rock. They have an entrance of three feet square, and inside
the height is five feet, and about the same length and breadth. It
is believed that these are hermitages of the primitive Christians,
but this is not my opinion, for how could the hermits have been at
the expense of cutting the rocks of this size and regularity?
‘Moreover, these holes are all near towns; close to those of which
I am speaking, we saw the remains of a village; and I observed other
similar ones in the neighbourhood of the ancient Tabarca. Neither
cross nor other emblem of Christianity is found there. I saw some
on the scarped face of the rock at an elevation of fifteen or
twenty feet, one above the other, and it was impossible to enter
the higher ones without a ladder. Some are very small, others are
double, so that at the end of one there is a second smaller one. In
the inside are small niches, similar to those which I have observed
in the mausoleums which I have had the honour of alluding to,[231]
and this makes me suppose that these holes were meant to receive dead
bodies, and that they were shut up with large square stones.’[232]
There is strong reason for supposing that these are sepulchral
chambers similar to the caves at Roknia, and the subject is one
deserving the attention of a future traveller. There can be little
doubt that the opening of the railway to El-Badja will render this
country more easy of access, and less hazardous than it is at present.
We had intended spending the night with the Sheikh Abdulla bin Nasr,
chief of the Oulad Nasr, whose douar is on the left or western bank
of the Oued Malah (_salt river_), but when we reached the right bank
we found it so swollen that we were reluctantly compelled to abandon
the attempt to cross it that night. Fortunately there was a douar
belonging to Sheikh bou Real (_the father of a piastre_) at no great
distance, and, seeing our trouble, he offered us the most ungrudging
hospitality. The Arabs of this country do not as a rule inhabit tents;
their abodes are houses with a permanent wooden framework, roofed
with reeds, rushes and straw, with walls of hurdle work, so tightly
plaited as to be tolerably impervious to the wind, and quite so to
the rain—two or three such houses, according to the wealth of the
owner, are surrounded by a low fence of dry thorns, and an aggregation
of several such within one common enclosure constitutes the douar.
Our host was evidently a person of some importance; his house
was forty feet long by twenty broad, divided longitudinally into
two portions. That to the right was raised about eighteen inches
above the other, and constituted the family residence and general
storeroom. Near one end sacks of wheat were piled up to the roof,
forming a partition, behind which the ladies of the family retreated
at night. Outside of this were two or three platforms of loose planks
on wooden trestles, intended as places of refuge from the main body
of the fleas, who usually take possession of the place; on these
we slept in tolerable comfort, thanks to the priceless discovery
we made, that by tucking the trousers inside the stockings, those
disagreeable neighbours are to a great extent circumvented.
We were rather a numerous company, and the space on which it was
possible to lie was limited, but we were thankful for any shelter,
and when we could not sleep, it was a comforting thing to hear the
wind howling around us, and the rain pattering on the roof, and to
think what our condition would have been, had we been obliged to
pitch our tent on the sodden ground outside. The lower division of
the house served as the stable; generally it was filled with our
host’s own animals, but he hospitably turned these into the yard
in order to accommodate our horses and mules. This arrangement is
not without its advantages and disadvantages; it was not pleasant
to wade through the liquid manure with which it was carpeted; but,
on the other hand, this ‘matter misplaced’ remained there,
and could not flow uphill to our beds.
The ladies of the house were not very well pleased at being turned
out of their ordinary sleeping-place, and were at first inclined
to be sulky; but a little delicate attention to the baby, who was
suffering from whooping cough, and a few presents of money, sugar
and biscuits to themselves, produced the never-failing result, and
they soon became quite devoted to us, and showed their affection by
gifts of eggs, milk and dry brushwood to keep up the fire.
The Khalifa or substitute of the Kaid of El-Badja happened to be in
the vicinity collecting arrears of revenue. As soon as he heard of our
arrival, he came to pay us a visit, pressed us to return with him to
his tents, which were a mile or two off, and offered to make us far
more comfortable than we could be here; but we had already unpacked,
and the weather was not such as to tempt us abroad again. So he
accepted our excuses, and having caused abundant supplies of straw
and barley to be brought, he remained with us till our departure.
Next morning we rejoiced to hear that the river had sunk sufficiently
during the night to be now fordable, but the weather was still bad,
and there was every prospect that, should it commence to rain again,
the torrent would become as bad as ever.
We therefore started very early, taking especial care to see to the
security of our loads, and accompanied by all the men of the village,
by whose aid we were soon landed on the further bank of the river.
Here we were met by the Sheikh Abdulla, who pressed us most warmly to
spend a day at his douar, but we were obliged to decline, as our time
was limited, and we knew not what difficulties might still lie before
us. He excused himself from accompanying us in person to Tabarca,
as there was a mortal feud between his people and those of Mekna,
further west, and though both professed to be the dutiful subjects of
the Bey, there had been war between themselves for generations. It
was only about a fortnight before, that a party of each tribe had
met on the neutral ground between them, and one man of Mekna had
been killed. He, however, found us a man belonging to another tribe,
who undertook to guide us to the douar of the Sheikh of Mekna.
At the douar of Sheikh Abdulla commences a tract of country, in some
places 12 miles broad and tapering to a point westward at Tabarca,
called by the natives _Belad er-Ramel_, country of sand, or _Ramel
es-Safra_, yellow sand. This has been engulfed by the sea-sand,
which is advancing imperceptibly but irresistibly in a south-easterly
direction, blown by the prevailing north-west winds from the beach.
There is no uncertain line of demarcation between it and the rich
forest-land beyond; it ends abruptly in a high bank, sometimes
rising like a cliff 30 feet high, sometimes sloping gradually down
a valley, like a glacier, but always advancing and swallowing up the
vegetation in its course. In some places it is absolutely destitute
of any plants; in others broom and tufts of diss grass occur, while
a few peaks higher than the general level, or some valleys sheltered
from the north-west, appear like islands of verdure in this sea,
or oases in this desert, of sand.
It is very interesting to watch the process by which it advances;
this was quite visible even after the heavy rains which preceded our
visit, and which had rendered the surface comparatively hard. It must
be much more marked when the surface is dry. On placing the eye so
that the edge of the sand-hill stands out in relief against the sky,
a distinct haze, caused by minute particles of sand in motion, is
observable, and sand and sky appear to be shaded off into each other.
The contrast between this scene of desolation and the glorious
forest-land beyond, lightened up with patches of cultivation and broad
grassy slopes, is most striking. After passing the sandy district,
which is neutral ground between the two hostile tribes, the road
passes through the forest, at a place called Sook et-Toork. The trees
are of considerable size, consisting of wild olive, evergreen and
deciduous oak, aspen and juniper, while the under shrub is of broom,
heath and bracken.
A short ride brought us to the head-quarters of Sheikh Murad, head
of the Mekna tribe (pl. _Amakin_). This good man was by no means glad
to see us, and did not even offer us a drink of milk, but after some
persuasion he sent his Khalifa to conduct us to Tabarca, and show us
the best means of crossing the river there, if indeed the operation
were possible, which he doubted.
His fears were too well founded: when we reached the right bank
of the Oued el-Kebir, which enters the sea close to the island of
Tabarca, we found it a deep and rapid river, over which no animal,
far less a laden mule, could pass. And although we saw the island
and the Bey’s fort not a mile beyond us, we had no alternative but
to turn round and seek the hospitality of some douar of the dreaded
tribe of _Khomair_. Our escort looked grave: but as long experience
had taught us that they were extremely brave where there was no
danger, insolent and exacting when they were sure of meeting with
no resistance, but meek as lambs amongst such as set their master
the Bey’s authority at defiance, and were little likely to brook
interference from them, we paid little heed to their forebodings,
and under the guidance of the Khalifa of Mekna, we went up to one
of the largest douars in sight, and claimed hospitality for the night.
We appeared to be regarded with some distrust, nothing like a cordial
welcome was accorded to us, but the owner of the hut placed it at
our service. It was not more than fifteen feet square, reeking with
foul odours, the ground splashing with liquid manure, and our party
consisted of ten persons besides ourselves. The family of the host
added four or five women and children to the number, so we felt
that it would be quite impossible for all to spend the night within
the building. In spite, therefore, of the glances of alarm which
the proposition elicited from our escort, we insisted on pitching
our own tent in the vicinity. No sooner was this done, and we had
commenced to prepare our dinner of preserved meat with the aid of a
spirit lamp, than a great circle of wild-looking fellows gathered
around us and watched our movements with wondering gravity. They
allowed us to eat our meal without interruption, which done, we
commenced to amuse them by the exhibition of compasses, barometers,
tricks with pocket-handkerchiefs and string, and my companion, who
is an unerring shot, astonished them by the accuracy of his aim. I
do not think, however, that it was until we produced a pot of jam,
and distributed it to the assembly, that we entirely succeeded in
gaining their affections. Suddenly they all thawed in a most amusing
manner, and we became the best possible friends. They declared that
we must never leave them; they would give us land and sheep—and as
for wives! the full number of four each was at our disposal on the
most reasonable terms. They at once offered to escort us by land to
La Calle, or to take us to any part of their country we pleased to
visit, and we felt that the pacific conquest of the dreaded Khomair
had been accomplished.
The _Oued el-Kebir_, which in part of its course is known as
the _Oued ez-Zan_, or river of oak-trees, is the ancient Tusca,
which formed the boundary between the Roman province of Africa and
Numidia. It continued to be the boundary of the native states which
succeeded the Roman occupation, and eventually between the pachaliks
of Algiers and Tunis. After the French occupation of Algeria the
limit was fixed in its present position, considerably further west.
In some maps it is also called the Oued Barbar; such a name is
quite unknown at the present day, but it is given, no doubt, on the
authority of Marmol, who accompanied the expedition of Charles V. to
Africa, and having for twenty years followed the standard of that
Emperor, was subsequently taken prisoner, and remained seven years
and eight months in captivity in North Africa. He says:—
‘The Hued-yl-Barbar is another great river, which has its source in
the great Atlas, near the town of Lorbus, in the kingdom of Tunis,
and makes so many turnings and windings in these mountains that
travellers who go from Bone to Tunis pass it twenty-five times,
and during all this course it has neither a bridge nor a boat. At
the end of its course it enters the sea, near the port of Taburc,
at six leagues from the town of Begge’ (El-Badja).[233]
The valley in which it flows is unsurpassed for fertility and beauty;
it is hardly possible to conceive one better suited for colonisation,
or a locality which could more easily be made a centre of agricultural
and industrial prosperity. It is about two miles wide at Tabarca,
and stretches far away among the mountains to an unknown distance. It
is flat, covered with rich crops and pasture, and dotted throughout
its whole extent with fine trees. It is traversed by three streams;
the main one is the Oued el-Kebir, the ancient Tusca, the eastern
one the Oued es-Sahila, and the western one the Oued el-Ahmer. At
present it is perfectly pestiferous, and the mortality amongst the
troops stationed at Tabarca is alarming, although the men are relieved
every two or three months. Ever since we crossed the Oued Zergäa,
on our way to El-Badja, we had met small groups of fever-stricken
wretches who had formed part of the garrison here, and who were
going back to Tunis to recruit their health. We never failed to
get an affirmative answer when we put the question on passing them,
‘Are you from Tabarca?’
The reason, however, is so obvious, and the remedy so simple, that
one cannot help wondering why the natives have never attempted it
in their own interests. The district which I have already described
as the ‘Country of Sand’ commences at Tabarca, and forms a
range of sandhills right across the mouth of the valley, except at
the one point where the rivers converge and fall into the sea. The
valley is so flat that there is no natural drainage into the rivers
which traverse it; the consequence is that rain water has no means of
escaping to the sea, the land becomes a swamp, and remains so during a
great portion of the year, till dried up by solar evaporation. While
this operation is being carried on by nature, the inevitable result,
malarious fever, is felt in an unusual degree.
When any great and sudden epidemic visits the country, it finds
this district thoroughly prepared for its reception. The Abbé
Poiret, who visited Tabarca just after Desfontaines in 1785, gives
a harrowing account of the ravages committed by the plague during
the previous year. Whole tribes were swept away, and the Turkish
garrison perished, with the exception of five or six soldiers; the
island was twice entirely depeopled, and the harvests were lost for
want of labour to gather them in, while flocks of sheep and goats
strayed all over the country without any owners to claim them.[234]
A few ditches, so cut as to direct the surface waters into the
streams which traverse the plain, would soon remedy this evil,
and convert the valley into what it ought to be, one of the finest
and most salubrious districts in the Regency. It possesses every
condition necessary to ensure prosperity, extensive corn and meadow
land, capable of irrigation in summer; numerous flocks and herds; an
unusually fine race of horses; an inexhaustible supply of the finest
timber, especially oak; cork forests, and, above all, proximity to
the sea, and an easy and secure anchorage, at least for small vessels.
There can be no doubt that the country is rich in minerals. A specimen
of lead ore was picked up near Tabarca and brought to me. I submitted
it for analysis to the English mining company at Ain Barbar, from
which I have received a report that it contains 72·70 per cent. of
lead, and that each ton of mineral contains 150 grammes, or 5 ounces
of silver.
M. Peyssonnel (1724) mentions having visited a lead mine in this
neighbourhood on his way from Cape Negro to Badja. He states: ‘We
saw on our road, at about five leagues from Cape Negro, a mine of
lead very abundant. The Moors, who worked it, stated that it had been
opened by the ancient Christians. At the entrance to the quarry was a
piece of marble, with a horse in _bas-relief_. We stopped at the place
where they melted the lead. They mix the ore with wood in bad furnaces
made with clay, and thus separate the metal very imperfectly.’[235]
The plain is covered with remains of Roman occupation. We observed
no inscriptions, but Peyssonnel records four epitaphs[236] which
existed in his time, and which are probably there still, so little
has this district been visited by Europeans during the past century.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 231: Allusion is here made to a mausoleum at Suffetula
and to one at Toelsen.]
[Footnote 232: Peyssonnel, ap. Dur. de la Malle, i. p. 258.]
[Footnote 233: Marmol, trad. d’Ablancourt, vol. i. p. 23.]
[Footnote 234: Abbé Poiret, vol. i. p. 182, 191.]
[Footnote 235: Peyssonnel, ap. Dur. de la Malle, vol. i. p. 247.]
[Footnote 236: Ibid. p. 261.]