CHAPTER III.

FROM THE MOUNTAINS TO GHADAMES.

Interview with the Commandant of The Mountains.--Military

Position occupied by the Turks.--Subjugation of the Arabs.--My

different Appellations.--Departure for, and arrival at, Rujban,

native place of my Camel-driver.--Aspect of The

Mountains.--Miserable condition of the Inhabitants.--Cruelty of

the Tribute Collectors.--Marabouts exempt.--Curiosity of the

Women to see The Christian.--Social Habits of the

People.--Politics in The Mountains.--Visit from The

Sheikh.--Various Conversations and Visitors.--Heat of the

Weather.--The Sheikh offers to sell me his Authority.--Want of

Rain.--Population.--The playing with the Head.--Pervading

principle of Religion.--The Sheikh in a bad humour, and misery of

Life in The Mountains.--Departure from The

Mountains.--Description of the four days' journey from The

Mountains to the Oasis of Senawan.--Dreadful sufferings from Heat

and want of Sleep.--Provisions of the Caravan.--Stratagem to

preserve Water.--Second Christening in The Desert.--Senawan and

its group of Oases.--Resume our Journey.--Emjessem.--Met by a

party of Friends from Ghadames.--Quarrel about Said.--First sight

of Ghadames.

_7th._--WAS awaked by a young man, who said he had brought for "the

Consul of Ghadames" (myself) a brace of partridges, some milk, and

grapes, from the secretary of the Commandant. Drank a large basin of milk

and coffee, and went to pay a visit to the Commandant. Found all the

principal Ghadamsee merchants at the Castle, closeted in a small

apartment with the Commandant, Ahmed Effendi, talking over the affairs of

the ghafalah. At first I imagined this officer had brought them up from

Yefran to make them pay black-mail in various presents. But it was only

his vanity which dragged up the poor camels this fatiguing route, an

ascent of four hours. Our direct route to Ghadames would have been half a

day farther west. He said he had merely sent for the merchants to ask

them how they were, and give them his blessing. When I entered, a stool

was brought me to sit upon. The Rais[12] was seated on a raised bench

covered with an ottoman, and the merchants were squatted on their hams

upon the matting and carpets of the floor. Coffee was brought me, as to

most visitors. The Rais asked me where I was going? and what I was doing?

as if he knew nothing about me. I then had my palaver, and represented to

the Rais the case of taking by force water from the merchants, which took

him quite aback, and astonished all present, the merchants secretly

admiring the boldness of the remonstrance. But it was one of those

unpleasant duties which are absolutely necessary to be performed. In our

case it was necessary for our own health and the order and security of

the caravan. The Rais surprised and displeased, nevertheless gave strict

orders that it should not happen again. The merchants afterwards

expressed their thanks to me; seeing plainly also the advantage of having

one amongst them who was not immediately subject to the Pasha and his

soldiers. Besides, I hinted to the Rais it would be better if the

ghafalah marched more in order, and had a chief. This the Rais discussed

with the merchants, and it was considered advisable to adopt these common

sense measures, they, however, laughing heartily at my European ideas of

order. I then begged the Rais to persuade the people to travel by night,

as this was the hottest season in the year, and being a new traveller in

The Desert, I could scarcely support the heat. He replied it would be

better for all as we were not now likely to be molested with hostile

Arabs. Before separating, a marabout made a short prayer (the _fatah_)

for the safety of the caravan. This prayer, the first chapter of the

Koran, is never omitted on these occasions. Ahmed Effendi is a very smart

Turk, in the vigour of age and health, and has the character of being

very stringent in his administration. People call him "_kus_," or hard

and determined in disposition; but he is not ferocious, like the

Commander-in-Chief. His countenance betrayed a very active intelligence.

He said to me aside: "Now these people you are travelling with are

barbarians; you must humour their whims and respect their religion. If

they were not now present, we would have a bottle of wine together."

The garrison of Yefran contains some two or three hundred Turkish

soldiers, as also that of Gharian, besides Arab troops. The Arabs of

these districts are entirely subdued, their native courage apparently

dried up and extinct. This has been done chiefly by forced emigration or

extermination. The French acquired their _razzia_ system from the Turks

whom they found in possession of the government of Algiers, on the

conquest of that country; but they have improved on it, for a superior

intelligence imitating a bad system, will always increase its cruelty and

wickedness. We passed many villages depopulated, their humble dwellings

razed to the ground--the work of the ferocious Ahmed Bashaw, who came in

person to these mountains. A great deal of fighting had taken place near

the Castle, and there were the ruins of a very large village on one of

the neighbouring peaks. Yefran is a very strong position, and was hotly

contested by both parties. In all these mountain districts very few

inhabitants are seen, and the present cultivation is therefore

insignificant. The people are without money or stock, and have scarcely

anything to eat. The single advantage of Turkish rule here is, a large

military road cut from the plain to the summit, on which the fort stands,

but, of course, as a military road, it was not made specifically for the

improvement of the people. Certainly the Turks must show more civilized

and polite manners to the mountaineers, but the Arabs will not imitate

them, or, if anything they do imitate, as in the case of all subjected

nations in relation to their conquerors, it is the vices of their

masters. It is unfortunately much the same when the Turks imitate us

Christians.

Bought some meat cheap at Yefran, but my camel-driver afterwards stole

the greater part. The secretary of the Rais, Bou Asher, who knew the

Vice-consul of Fezzan, showed me some kindness, and sent me again milk,

which he said was the right of "The Consul." I had also received a nice

delicious little present of a melon from the Sheikh Makouran _en route_.

These were the first proofs of a friendly disposition of the natives

towards me, and were most thankfully appreciated. The people called me

_Taleb_ ("learned man"), or _Tabeeb_ ("doctor"), or Consul, or the

Christian, just as their caprice or information led them[13]. Here all

the merchants determined to stop a week, some going to one part of The

Mountains, and some to the other, to purchase oil, barley and _gurbahs_

("water-skins"). Many travellers, who had availed themselves of our

escort to The Mountains, here left us.

I left in the afternoon for the native country of my camel-driver, and

encamped for the night in The Mountains. Our party consisted only of the

camel-driver, Said, and myself, with three camels. I must say I felt

rather queer knocking about in The Mountains, almost alone.

_8th._--Rose early, and pursued our way. The air of this elevated region

invigorated my mind and body; and so by a mishap I took no coffee before

starting. Passed the kailah under a group of olive trees, called "The

Sisters[14]," where also flocks of sheep and shepherds were dosing and

reposing under the shade. We exchanged biscuits for milk. The shepherds

were giving their dogs to drink, and made me wait until they had drunk

their fill, thinking no doubt that their dogs were as good as "a

Christian dog," (the ordinary epithet of abuse applied by Mussulmans to

Christians). I had my revenge, for when I had drank my milk, I took good

care to give them only a fair and exact return of biscuits, which made

them ask for more, but which I refused. Started again, and did not arrive

at Mohammed's village, in the district of Rujban, till after midnight. It

was a most wearisome ride. I kept asking Mohammed, "how far the village

was off?" He would say, "Now three hours;" in two hours after, it was

still "three hours;" in two hours after that, it was still "two hours and

a half;" it was "near" when it was six hours before we arrived; it was

"close by us," three hours before we arrived, &c. &c. But an Arab will

often tell you a place is just under your nose when it is at a day's

journey distant, pointing to it as if he saw it within a musket-shot. I

was highly exasperated at Mohammed, because we had delayed to eat

anything all day long, upon his representing to me that we should arrive

an hour after sunset. But the milk acted like a purgative, and was

perhaps advantageous. No people were seen in The Mountains, and very

little cultivation. There were a few modern antiquities, chiefly the

stones of Moorish forts and castles. Many villages in ruins, destroyed in

the late wars. And Mohammed, like a thoughtless idiot, ridiculed the rude

desolations of his brethren, exulting and calling out to me to see "the

cooking places." Many parts had the geological features of the Sahel, or

hilly country in the neighbourhood of the city of Algiers. The air was

pure and cool. But though it was calm this day and the evening, a sudden

tempest got up after midnight. I was lying on the bare ground rolled in a

blanket, when the wind tore it from off me, and I was obliged to retreat

to a hovel. I am told these tempests are frequent in The Mountains, no

doubt arising from the intense heat rarefying the air.

_9th._--Slept the greater part of this day to recover from the fatigue of

the preceding days. Do not suffer much, and am surprised I do not suffer

more. Asked Mohammed for the quarter of sheep purchased at Yefran, and

taxed him with stealing it: told him I would give him no backsheesh on

arriving at Ghadames. He had stolen the meat to make a feast for his

friends on his arrival, and afterwards brought me a piece of my own meat

cooked as his own, but which I refused. This is a fine illustration of

being generous at another person's expense. In the evening went to see

Rujban. There are seven villages forming the district of Rujban. These

consist of so many mud and stone buildings, but some of the houses are

excavations out of the solid rock, the principal object being protection

from the fiery summer heat, and the intense winter cold. Many of the

houses have a yard before them, which is walled round, and three or four

are mostly clustered together. Sometimes excavations are made in a pit or

hollow found on high ground, and then a subterraneous passage leading to

them is excavated from the mountain sides: these are reckoned very

secure. From the heights where I write, there is a boundless view of the

plain and undulating ground which lie between the Mediterranean and this

Atlas chain. The Arabs call it their sea, and it certainly looks like a

sea from these heights. A marabout sanctuary and garden at the base of

the mountains, is called their port. There is frequently a freshness

rising from the subjected plain like that of the sea. The camels, they

say, are their ships. There are besides some pretty views in and over the

Atlas valleys, where you overlook the small scattered oasisian spots of

cultivation, with here and there a palm and little groups of inclosed

fig-trees. Then again, there are heights crowned with olive-woods, as if

The Mountains had put on a black scull-cap. Some of the precipices are

so profound, as to deserve the epithet of "horrid." In different parts of

these heights are flights of natural steps, by which they are ascended,

and which seem to have received some finish from Arabian ingenuity.

In spite of the freshness and coolness of mountain air, it has been very

hot these last two days. On the plains, the people say the heat is now

overpowering.

There is scarcely any natural produce about. A few sheep and goats, a

camel or two, and a few asses, are all the animals I have seen. The

fig-trees produce something, but I have seen no prickly-pears, which

support many poor families on The Coast, during several months every

year. The olive plantations are the principal resource of these poor

mountaineers, which are also a sensible relief for the eye on these bare

heights. In the houses there is hardly anything to be got. No pepper, no

onions, no meat killed or sold. No bread can be obtained for love or

money. I laid in a stock of fresh bread in Tripoli for a fortnight, but

my gluttonous camel driver devoured all in three or four days! There were

no less than fifty twopenny loaves. He was accustomed to eat in the

night, when I was asleep, and used to threaten to beat Said if he

blabbed. I mentioned the circumstance after, to the Rais of Ghadames, who

observed: "If you had brought a thousand loaves, all would have been

devoured."

Notwithstanding this abject poverty, a bullying tax-gatherer, with half a

dozen louting soldiers, have been up here prowling about, and wresting

with violence the means of supporting life from these miserable beings.

The scenes which I witness are heart-rending, beyond all I have heard of

Irish misery and rent-distraining bullies. One man had his camel seized,

the only support of his family; another his bullock; another a few

bushels of barley: the houses were entered, searched, and ransacked;

people were dragged by the throat through the villages, and beaten with

sticks; and all because the poor wretches had no money to meet the

demands of these voracious bailiffs. Poverty is, indeed, here a crime.

One poor old woman had a few bad unripe figs seized, and came to me, and

a group of wretched villagers, crying out bitterly. One or two men, who

were imagined to have something, though they had nothing, were held by

the throat until they were nearly suffocated. I cursed over and over

again in my heart the Turks. I was not prepared for such scenes of

cruelty in these remote mountains. We shall find, that amongst the

so-called barbarians of The Desert there was nothing equal in atrocity to

this. What wonder that the Arab prefers, if he can, to pasture his flocks

on savage and remote wastes to being subjected to these regular

Governments--of extortion! And yet we, in our ignorance of what is here

going on, are surprised at their preference. If the people are not ready

with their money, the little barley, their winter's store, is seized, and

they must pay afterwards their usual quotas of money. Several bags of

barley are illegally gotten in this way. The amount of tax or tribute for

the whole district of Rujban is five or six hundred mahboubs, which is

paid in three instalments, three times a year; but, which though nothing

in amount, is more than all the people are worth together, for riches and

poverty are relative possessions, if the latter can be possessed. If they

can't pay in money they pay in kind. The Sheikh of the district, with

the elders, determine how much each man and family shall pay. This, of

course, gives rise to ten thousand disputes, heart-burnings, and eternal

wranglings amongst themselves. The Arabs, on these occasions, however

silent and sulky they may be on others, show that they have the gift of

speech, as well as Frenchmen and Italians. Then, indeed, God's thunder

can't be heard. Marabouts do not pay these taxes. This is a privilege of

religion, which successfully exerts itself against the oppressive arm of

the civil power. Such privilege has been enjoyed in all ages and

countries. My camel-driver is a Marabout, and is consequently exempt. I

rallied him upon his privilege, and he replied: "The villains are afraid

to come here; see my flag-staff and green flag, they dare not come over

my threshold--God would strike them down!" It is impossible to tell how

much of the five hundred mahboubs gets into the treasury of Government,

but, I am told, a good portion gets into the pockets of the officials.

The whole administration of The Mountains, and the Saharan oases of

Tripoli, is conducted on the same principles of finance and extortion.

I am lodged in the house of my camel-driver. The women show the greatest

curiosity to see me, and declare that I am more beautiful (_bahea_) than

they. They wonderingly admire everything I have. The greater part of

these women never left their mountain-homes--never saw a Christian or

European before--and this is the reason of their surprise at my

appearance. The children, of course, are equally astonished, but are too

frightened to reflect steadily on an European. Both the women and men say

it is _maktoub_, ("predestination") which has brought me amongst them,

and they are right. These poor people are very civil to me. In my quality

of tabeeb they consult me. The prevailing disease is sore eyes. Two

children were brought to me, a girl with a dropsy of a year's standing,

and a boy with only one testiculum, for neither of which did I prescribe.

The employment of the men is camel-driving between Tripoli and Ghadames.

Agriculture, there is scarcely any. The women weave barracans or holees

for their husbands, themselves, and children, and for sale. They are

mostly dirty, and ill-clothed. The men have but a single barracan to

cover them, one or two may have a shirt; the children are nearly naked;

and the women wear a woollen frock, charms round their necks, armlets,

and anclets, sometimes throwing a slight barracan or sefsar round their

heads and shoulders. I observed, however, that often women wear great

leather boots, made of red leather or camel's skin. None of them were

pretty, but some were fine-looking, with aquiline noses, and rolling

about their large, black, gazelle-like eyes.

_10th._--Spent the day in writing notes. Expect to remain three more

days. I am, however, comfortably sheltered from the heat, which has been

to-day excessive. Mohammed, my camel-driver, is useful to me as a writer

of Arabic, giving me the names of places in Arabic. But he knows nothing

of Arabic grammar, and writes very poorly, like most of these Marabouts,

although he passes for being a very learned man. He purchased some old

dirty leaves of an Arabic book, and exhibited them to the people as

sacred works. The Sheikhs of Rujban and all the great people of the

villages came to stare at them. They were shocked at my presumption in

wishing to handle these sacred leaves, which were a portion of a

commentary on the Koran. My Marabout is the Katab, or writer of the

village, there being only another who can write here besides himself, and

who writes very badly. Mohammed, though a saint and a writer, is an

enormous hog, and dishonest, when he can be so with safety. He has begun

badly, but may turn out better. Said is not of much use yet; he is very

stupid, but not malicious. I must make the best of both, and of every

body and everything in my present circumstances, conciliating always

wherever I can, and passing by all offences. If I can't do this, I may go

back. I cannot finish these trifling memoranda to-day, without expressing

my thankfulness to a good Providence, that I enjoy good health and

spirits up to this time, and there is every appearance of my arriving

safely in Ghadames. "All is from God!" (_Men ând Allah El-koul_, as the

people say.)

_11th._--Yesterday evening conversed with the Arab villagers, and asked

them if the soldiers of the Government were gone, _i. e._, the collectors

of the tribute. They replied, "Yes, thank God, and may they never return!

The curse of God upon them!" They then asked me, if the people were

treated so by our Government. I observed to them, "Not always. But that

sometimes the British Government sorely oppressed the people, as all the

Governments of Europe; and I was often tempted to think that there were

only two classes of people in the world, the oppressing and the

oppressed, (_i. e._, the eaters and the eaten)." To which latter remark

they all answered with a loud "Amen," and swore it was the truth. They

then asked me, "If the English were coming to Tripoli?" I told them,

"No," for the English had now more countries than they knew what to do

with. Surprised at this remark, they continued, "What are the French

vessels doing at Tripoli?" (There were then a French steamer and a brig

at this time.) I told them to keep away the Turks from attacking Tunis.

They were anxious to know if the French would come to Tripoli. I

answered, I thought not, as they had enough of Algeria. "We hope (_en

shallah_,)" said they, "the English are our friends." I replied they

were, but, being friends of the Sultan of Constantinople, they would not

take possession of Tripoli. The fact was, these poor people were just

smarting under the oppressive acts of the Turkish tax-gatherers, and they

would then have sold their country to the first comer for an old song,

were the buyer Christian, Jew, or Pagan. But I have always found the

Arabs fond of talking of politics; it seems instinctive in their

character; and it is astonishing how much policy is always going on

amongst their tribes, and how intricate are the various negotiations of

the Sheikhs. I asked them "If they had any arms?" To which they replied,

"No, none whatever; the Turks have taken them all away." And so these

once formidable mountaineers have not only lost all spirit and courage,

but have not even arms to defend themselves against the most petty

annoyances. Robberies of the small kind are frequent about the

neighbourhood, and the people are often obliged to gather their figs

before they are ripe, lest they should be stolen. At other times they

display great impatience of the seasons, and gather the fruit before

ripe. Those who steal provisions are poor famished devils, having

nothing to eat. There is no poor-law here. It is simply a question of

theft or starvation to death. This is the alternative of Arab life in

many parts of these mountains.

This morning received a visit from the Sheikh of Rujban, Bel Kasem by

name[15], and his head-servant, or factotum. I made them the best coffee

I could, putting into it plenty of sugar. The Arabs are curious people;

they like things either very bitter or very sweet. Their eyes sparkled

with satisfaction; they had never tasted coffee before like it, and were

rejoiced--"Tripoli always belongs to the English!" Speaking of the

Marabouts, and alluding to my Mohammed, the Sheikh said, "These fellows

pray God and rob men." "Mohammed," he added, "is a rogue, he pays

nothing, and I am obliged to eat up all the people to make up the amount

for the Bashaw." It is curious to observe everywhere this eternal contest

between the civil and spiritual power. To pacify him, I told him

Christian priests were many of them as bad as Marabouts (and which is

quite within the mark). The Sheikh and his men had very white teeth. I

observe nearly all the Arab men and women, as well as the negroes, to

have extremely white teeth. This has never been medically accounted for;

I believe it arises from the simplicity of the food they eat. Some

Tunisian Arabs have reported that large bodies of troops are being

concentrated at the Isle of Jerbah, in expectation of the Turks. The

trading Arabs are the gazettes of North Africa.

Said's feet are very sore, arising from Mohammed refusing to allow him to

ride. I was obliged to tell him, at last, that, unless he permitted him

to ride, Said should not help him to load the camels. This had some

effect, and he allowed Said to ride an hour or two before reaching here.

This Marabout is, indeed, a cruel, selfish fellow. He also pretends to be

very jealous, and will not allow any person, much less a Christian, to

see his wife. He won't allow me to present her a cup of coffee. But I

found out the reason; the rascal wished to carry it himself, and drink

half of it on the way. Afterwards his wife told me herself the reason. An

indiscreet conjugal disclosure this: but such is the character of the

man.

An old blind man is calling on me. He tells me his country is my country,

and his people my brothers and sisters. He prays God to bless me and

preserve me. How soft and gentle--how full of good-will and patience--are

the manners of the blind in all countries! Full fed flesh and the

prosperous are proud and cruel, those stricken with infirmity and misery

show the milk of human kindness. This poor old gentleman prays all the

day long. Prayer is his daily bread. The Arabs ask me if Said is my

slave. I tell them the English have no slaves, and that it is against

their religion, but that some other Christian nations have slaves. They

are greatly astonished that slavery is not permitted amongst us. The

women of the village continue to visit me as an object of curiosity. They

never saw a Christian before. They are always declaring me "bahea,"

handsome, of which compliment I am, indeed, very sensible.

This evening, however, the women of our two or three huts, and their

neighbours, played me an indecent trick, with, of course, a mercenary

object. Although the Barbary dance is rare amongst the Arab women, they

can have recourse to it at times to suit their objects. The men were gone

to bring the camels, and the women sent Said after them on some frivolous

message. Four of the women now came into my apartment, and taking hold of

hands, formed a circle round me. They then began dancing, or rather

making certain indecent motions of the body, known to travellers in North

Africa. At once nearly smothered and overpowered, I could scarcely get

out of the circle, and pushed them back with great difficulty. At this

they were astonished, and wondered all men, Christians and Mussulmans,

did not like such delicate condescension on their part. "Don't you like

it, infidel?" they cried, and retreated from my room. I now saw their

object. They began begging for money vehemently, saying, "Pay, pay, every

body pays for this." Nothing they got from me; and the wife of the

Marabout came afterwards, imploring me to say nothing to her husband. It

is thus these rude women will act for money, as many who are better

taught, in the streets of London. But acts of indelicacy are nevertheless

very rare amongst the mountain tribes. I have seen Arab women at other

occasions, on a cold day, standing athwart a smoking fire, with all the

smoke ascending under their clothes. This may be expected, and is

characteristic of the filthy habits of these wretched mountaineers. But

cases of adultery are unknown amongst these simple people.

_12th._--A beautiful Arab girl, a perfect mountain gazelle, came with her

mother to consult me about her eyes, being near-sighted. Recommended her

to apply to Dr. Dickson, if she ever went to Tripoli; and wrote her a

note to him. Many other people came for medicines. Went to see an old man

whose eyes were bad with ophthalmia. I gave him some solution to wash his

eyes, and he gave me in turn a jar of new milk. Something was said about

olive-oil, and I asked where we could get some. They said there was none

in Rujban. The lady of my host thinking me incredulous, pulled her gray

grisly hair, and exhibited its crispness and dryness, observing, "See,

where's the oil?" Of course such an argument was conclusive that they had

no oil in the house.

The villagers, in this season, do absolutely nothing, unless it be sleep

all day long. The fact is, it is awfully hot, from early morn to evening

late, and they have little to do. All that they have to do, many of them

do with apparent dispatch. At the dawn of day the wind is so strong, one

cannot enjoy an hour of the morning's freshness; and, in the evening, the

sultry ghiblee is equally disagreeable. I scarcely go out of my room the

whole day. Begin to recover my Arabic. Many times I have begun and

re-begun this difficult language. But there is no remedy. I must work,

and work brings some pleasure, at least destroys ennui and kills time.

However little time we have, we wish it less.

The Arabs ask me, "Why the Christian priests have no wives?" The

Mohammedans and Catholics go to extremes in their ideas of separating or

connecting women with religion and sanctity. The Mohammedans think a

saint or marabout cannot have too many women or wives, which, they say,

assist their devotion--a sentiment which they pretend to have received

from Mahomet himself by tradition. The fact is, the prophet was very fond

of women. The Catholics would seem to think a priest better with

absolutely no wife. This is a mere struggle between sensuality and

asceticism. There is no love or affection in it. I showed Mohammed an

empty bottle. He took a piece of paper and wrote: "The bottle is empty of

wine, God fill it again." Such is Arab marabout literature.

_13th._--Elhamdullah! The wind has changed, the furnace breath of the

ghiblee is gone out! We have now a pleasant breeze from N.W., the bahree,

as the Arabs call it. We can now go out any time; before we were

prisoners the live-long day. Mohammed, who pretends to all sciences,

says: "There are three modes of cure--"1st, Blood-letting; "2nd, Fire and

burning; "3rd, The word of God."

He made this observation in applying verses of the Koran to the eyes of

his wife's sister, which he said were more efficacious than all my

physic. Some of these bits of paper, with the name of God written on

them, were steeped in water and swallowed by the patient. This

superstition of swallowing bits of paper, with the name of God and verses

of the Koran written on them, as well as the water in which the paper is

steeped, is prevalent as an infallible remedy in all Mahometan Africa.

Marabouts are all powerful in The Mountains; and a woman, pointing to her

child, said to me:--"That boy is the child of a Marabout. I never allow

another man to sleep with me." Nevertheless, the women still display

intense curiosity in seeing "The Christian," and will declare, "By G--d,

you are beautiful, more handsome than our men." They admire the most

trifling thing I have, and add, "God alone brought you amongst us." Their

language, though indelicate to us, is not so to them. It is the

undisguised speech of a rude people.

Went this morning to see El-Beer, or "the well," the real fountain of

life in these countries. Was much pleased with the visit; and found it at

the bottom of a deep ravine, bubbling out from beneath the shade of palms

and olives, amidst wild scenery of rugged steeps and hanging rocks. There

are indeed, four springs, but all apparently from the same source. They

are not deep, and have near them troughs for watering sheep, goats,

cattle, and camels. These wells furnish water for two mountain districts.

The water is of the purest quality, clear as crystal, aye, clear as--

"Siloa's brook that flow'd

Fast by the oracle of God."

The road to them is very difficult, over rattling, rumbling stones, and

rocks, and precipices, and it is hard work for the poor women who fetch

the water, for the wells are distant nearly three miles from our village.

The Sheikh came to my Mohammed, asking him to write to Tripoli, to

collect the money due to the Bashaw from certain people of this country,

who are now working in that city. They look sharp after these poor

wretches. Amuse myself with washing my handkerchiefs and towels, and

mending my clothes. I also always cook and do as much for myself as I

possibly can. Besides doing things as I like, it amuses me. Bought

another skin-bag for water, and shall now distribute the three amongst

us, and each shall drink his own water during the four days of our route,

where no water is to be found. This will prevent wrangling on the way,

and make each person more careful of this grand element of life in The

Desert. Mohammed put a little oil in the skin before filling it, to

prevent it from cracking. This gives the water an oily taste for weeks

afterwards, but we get used to it, and are glad of water with any taste.

His Excellency the Sheikh got very facetious to-day. He offered to sell

me his authority, his Sheikhdom, and retire from affairs. I bid one

thousand dollars for the concern. "No, no," said he, "I'll take ten

thousand dollars, nothing less." Then, getting very familiar, he added,

"Now, you and I are equal, you're Consul and I'm Sheikh--you're the son

of your Sultan, and I'm a commander under the Sultan of Stamboul." The

report of my being a Consul of a remote oasis of The Sahara was just as

good to me on the present occasion as if I had Her Majesty's commission

for the Consular Affairs of all North Africa. Who will say, then, there

is nothing in a name? A tourist in Africa should always take advantage of

these little rumours, provided they are innocent. But the traveller more

frequently has to encounter rumours to his disadvantage. Many visitors,

men, women, and children--some brought milk, others figs and soap. Soap

is considered a luxury in all the interior cities, and people will beg

soap though never use it, but keep it as a sort of treasure. Fig and

olive trees abound in the mountains, but for want of rain have produced

nothing this year. So of most other vegetables products. Goats only are

in abundance, of animals. The ordinary food of the people is bazeen, a

sort of boiled flour pudding, with a little high-seasoned herbal sauce,

and sometimes a little oil or mutton fat poured on. It is generally made

of barley-meal, but sometimes flour. This is the supper and principal

meal of the day. As a breakfast, a little milk is drank, or a few dates

with a bit of bread is eaten. The rule of these mountaineers is, indeed,

not to eat meat, though some of them have flocks of sheep.

_14th._--His Excellency the Sheikh roused me from my bed this morning. He

said he could not sleep, and therefore I ought not to sleep. According to

his Excellency, Rujban contains 500 souls, all in misery and starvation.

"The country is _batel_ (good for nothing)," he says. It is certain the

greater part of the people have not enough to eat, or half the quantity

of what is considered ordinarily sufficient. In the neighbouring

districts, S.W., there are 1,500 souls. Ahmed Bashaw destroyed the

greater part of the inhabitants of these mountains, and disarmed the

rest, leaving not a single matchlock amongst them. Such are the Turkish

ideas of mountain rule--absolute submission or extermination!

This morning is cool and temperate. Every day continue to administer

solution for ophthalmia, and even those whose eyes are quite well, will

have a drop of it put on their eyes. They say it will prevent them, after

I am gone, from having the malady. Everybody begs a bit of sugar, a

little bread, a scrap of paper, a something from the Christian. Content

all as well as I can.

This evening saw, for the first time "the playing with the head," which

is performed by females. This was done by a young girl. After baring her

head and unbinding her hair, throwing her long dark tresses in

dishevelled confusion, she knelt down and began moving her chest and head

in various attitudes, her whole soul being apparently in the motion. Part

of her hair she held fast in her teeth, as if modestly to cover her face,

the rest flew wildly about with the agitation of her head and chest, and

all to the tune or time of two pieces of stick, one beating on the other,

by the woman upon whose knees she leaned with her hands. The motion was

really graceful, though wild and dervish-like, but there was nothing

lascivious in it, like the dancing of the Moors, nor could it well be,

the upper part of the body only was in agitation, being literally "the

playing with the head." I never saw this before or again in North Africa.

I gave the young lady twenty paras, the first time she had so large a sum

in her life. Received a present of leghma from the Sheikh, very acrid and

intoxicating. The women admire much my straw hat, made of fine Leghorn

plat, and wonder how it is done. None of the inhabitants but our Marabout

read and write. Portions of the Koran, however, are committed to memory;

and one day an old blind man repeated several chapters of the Koran for

my especial edification. He did it as a protest of zeal against my

infidelity before the people, but I took care not to show that I was

aware of the object. The men pray now and then, the women never, that I

could see, and never think of religion beyond ascribing all things, good

and bad, to God. Indeed, all classes in these mountains think the sum of

religion consists simply in ascribing all matters, how great or how

small, how evil how good soever, to the Divine Being. When they have done

this, they think they have performed an act of piety and mercy. At my

request, Mohammed made Said a pair of camel-driver's shoes, or sandals,

to save his best. The plan is primitive enough. They get a piece of dried

camel's hide, and cut it into the shape of the sole of the foot. Then

they cut two thongs from the same hide. Holes are now bored through the

soles, a knot is made at the end of the thongs, and they are pulled

through the holes. The whole is then rubbed over with oil; the hairy side

of the hide is fitted next to the foot, and the thongs are bound round

the ancles. These sandals serve admirably well their purpose; some are

made of double soles. But for the especial benefit of our cordwainers, I

may mention, the African shoe has no heel to the sole.

_15th._--His Excellency the Sheikh, and his factotum, or shadow, took

coffee again with me this morning. A cup of coffee is a rare treat in

Rujban. The Shadow of his Excellency brought me a few bad Fezzan dates,

from which oases The Mountains are mostly supplied. Dates are not

cultivated in The Mountains. The palm requires a low and flat sandy soil.

The climate is not of so much consequence as the soil. Jerbah, and the

Karkenahs, islands in the Mediterranean, produce as fine dates as the

most favoured oasis of The Sahara. The Sheikh tells me there are thirty

negro slaves in his district. One would wonder how the people could keep

slaves when they can scarcely keep themselves. His Excellency is very

sulky. He threatens to resign his Sheikhdom. The poor Sheikh is the

dirtiest, unhappiest mortal of all his people. He is without wife, family

or friend; he is without a rag to cover himself, except a filthy

blanket. He houses in a little dirty cabin. In looks he is a hard

strong-featured man, and large of limb. I asked his Excellency what he

got by his Sheikhdom, to plague him. He growled, "_Shayen_ (nothing)."

"Why don't you resign?" I continued. "I can't; all my ancestors, from the

time of Sidi Ibraim, and our lord Mahomet, were Sheikhs. We're one blood.

I shall dishonour them:" he returned. The principle of aristocracy is

irradicably bound up in the Arabian social economy. The levelling and

co-operative system has no place here. The Sheikh's factotum is a noisy,

roguish-looking Arab, with several bullet-marks about him received in the

late wars. As he does all his master's dirty work, he is universally

detested. Master and man swear the country is ruined. There certainly is

nothing in these villages to render life tolerable. No rustic plays; no

moon-lit dance to the sound of the rude calabash drum and squeaking pipe;

no cheerful family circle--all is poverty and loneliness! Such a life is

really not worth living. To make wretchedness still more wretched, for

three years there has been no rain in these mountains. God's power and

man's cruelty press sorely upon these miserable people.

The curiosity of the villagers begins to abate, or my Mohammed refuses

them admission into his house to see me. He pretends to be honest in his

opinion of his countrymen. He says: "The Arabs are all dogs (_kelab_)."

They certainly have most begging propensities. And Mohammed adds, that

when they have sufficient they will still beg, being born beggars. But,

alas! these poor people, I am sure, never know now what it is to have

enough. Yesterday some audacious thief stole the Sheikh's leghma. His

factotum is foaming with rage, but the Sheikh laughed heartily at the

impudence of the thief. His Excellency is accustomed to send me some

every morning. I shall here relate a case or trait of selfishness amongst

Arab women. I gave to the wife of the Marabout half a bottle of solution

for washing her eyes should she be attacked with ophthalmia. Her

sister-in-law, living next door, was laid up in a dark room with a

dreadful ophthalmia. She sent her husband to beg a little of the

solution. The Marabout's wife first denied that she had any, and then

that she could find it. When I came from my walk, I scolded her soundly

and gave the poor sufferer some solution.

The Marabout seeing my little stock of oil, burst forth with a violent

panegyric on olive oil, as he dipped his fingers into it and licked them,

not much to my satisfaction:--"Oil is my life! Without oil I droop, and

am out of life; with oil, I raise my head and am a man, and my family

(wife) feels I am a man. Oil is my rum--oil is better than meat." So

continued Mohammed, tossing up his head and smacking his lips. I have no

doubt there is great strength in olive oil. An Arab will live three

months on barley-meal paste dipped in olive oil. Arabs will drink oil as

we drink wine.

_16th._--This morning we leave for Ghadames. What is remarkable, nearly

all the Mountaineers offered me their services, and were willing to leave

their native homes, and go with me any where or everywhere. I hardly

observed a spark of fanaticism in them, so far as accompanying me was

concerned. They were all actuated with the common and universal feeling,

to obtain something to live withal in this poor world.

I have endeavoured to give some minutiæ of Arab mountain life. It will be

seen to be not very stirring or agreeable, and there is certainly no

romance in it, but, such as it is, I offer it to the reader, and he must

make the best of the information. Life is life under any and all forms.

From Tripoli to The Mountains our route was southwest, so that we were

not so far from the coast as at first might be imagined, from the number

of days' journey, and we were still within the influence of some cool sea

breezes, for any point almost between west and northeast, brought

reviving life to The Mountains, in this terrible season of heat.

My journey seemed now to begin again, I felt a sickening regret, even in

leaving my new Arab acquaintances. But the oppression which ground down

to the dust these poor people filled my mind with the horror of despotic

government. I was glad to get away from its victims, and from under the

sphere of its influence, and plunge into the wild wastes of The Sahara,

where I could breathe more freely. I must relate one other anecdote

illustrating this oppression. A poor man sold me a peck of barley. The

myrmidons of power, hearing of the sale, immediately went to him, and he

refusing to give them the money, they got hold of his throat and nearly

strangled him. To make them desist, I paid them also the value of the

barley. Several of the poor people ran out after me when I mounted the

camel, and amongst them many women and children, all crying out

"_Bes-slamah, bes-slamah_," (Good-bye, good-bye). We now entered upon the

most difficult, and the most critical part of our route in this season,

and I commended myself and the people again to Eternal Providence.

_20th._--Seenawan. I find it impossible to write daily in this part of

the route.

I have seen lately in the newspapers and geographical journals, that a

Frenchman is going to traverse Africa from west to east, and that he is

to make hourly observations with scientific instruments. I think the

parties who write such paragraphs must be either madmen, or grossly and

unpardonably ignorant of the nature of African travelling. If a traveller

is in his sober senses, half the time he is _en route_, he is a happy

man. But to proceed.

Our first object was to find the rendezvous of the ghafalah. I said to

Mohammed: "Are you sure the ghafalah is on the march to-day?" "The

ghafalah is like the sun," he replied, "every body knows it will move

to-day." About four hours after looking over the undulating ground, I

thought I saw at about six miles distant some black spots moving, and

turning to Mohammed, I said, "What's that?" He exclaimed, "The camels!

the camels! I told you I was right, and don't you see I have struck into

the right path?" I was glad to hear this, for I was not yet sufficiently

broken in to desert travelling to be wandering about as we were in search

of moving parties of the ghafalah. An hour after I took off the shade

from my eyes, for I had still a slight ophthalmia, and looking round, I

found we were in the midst of detached parties of the ghafalah, widely

apart, but all hurrying in one direction. We were not near enough (indeed

some miles off) to have any conversation with them. By noon we had all

rendezvoused upon a pleasant plateau of The Mountains. The merchants

welcomed my return, and asked me what I had been doing. I said, "We have

delayed too long." They smiled:--"Oh, you don't understand; you see we

have one day for buying oil, another day for barley, another for skins,

another for doing nothing," &c. It appeared to me a bungling way of doing

business. But some of them had been obliged to go a day's journey to

purchase a few things. The ghafalah had, in fact, been scattered all over

The Mountains. A few never left Yefran. This was my first taste of delay

in Saharan travel.

We began our four days' journey in the evening, and continued all night

up to two hours before sunrise. The camels then rested but were not

unpacked. All the people now got a few winks of sleep. At dawn we started

again, and halted for the day after two hours and a half of marching. In

the afternoon, about half-past four, we then resumed our march, and in

this manner we continued for the four days. Our pace was upon an average

three miles per hour, sometimes two and a half, and sometimes three and a

half. On looking at the camel you think it goes slow, but when you look

at the driver, you observe that he is often kept up to a very good

walking pace. Our camels were five days without drinking, for they drank

the morning before we left.

I was once going to write, "the Arabs pack their camels as badly as

possible; make their journeys as long as possible; travel as much in the

sun as possible[16];" but these last four days have convinced me that,

under the guidance of a good Arab chief, they know what they are about,

and can do things with order and dispatch.

I don't know how it was, but it came into my head that, on leaving The

Mountains, and proceeding south, we should soon descend again, as if we

were to cross some mighty ridge or series of ridges of the Atlas. Every

moment I expected to descend into valleys or plains, corresponding to the

country which lies between Tripoli and The Mountains. Getting impatient,

after nearly a day's march, I asked for the plains. The people turned

upon me with surprise, and said:--"_Lel Ghadames, koul hathe souwa,

souwa_, All like this to Gadmes." I found, indeed, that, after getting

fairly into The Mountains, and proceeding south, you first entered upon a

deep undulating country, with here and there a profound ravine, then a

pretty verdant inclosed plateau, and then a bare towering height, all

which _accidented_ country dissolved at last into an immeasurable plain.

Proceeding south, however, we found a new species of mountains began to

raise their long, lone, dull, dreary naked forms; and, asking Mohammed

what they were, he replied correctly enough:--"These are _Gibel Sahara_,

(Saharan Mountains)." The plateaus and undulating ground were in places

covered with loose stones, with sand and sand-hills scattered or heaped

about. Then these stones and sand were partly covered at this season with

sun-dried and sun-burnt herbage, mostly very coarse, with here and there

a few bushes and shrubs. Many also were the dried beds of rivers, and

there were still wider and profounder depressions of land than these

waterless wadys. But all is now burnt, scorched, dried up, and the

nakedness of the Saharan ridges is responded to with a hideous barrenness

from the intervening plains and valleys. Not a single living creature was

visible or moving; not a wild or tame animal, not a bird nor an insect,

if we except a tiny lizard, which seems to live as a salamander in heat

and flames, now and then crossing our path at the camel's foot, and a few

flies, which follow the ghafalah, but have no home or habitation in The

Dried-up Waste. Nor was there a sound, nor a voice, or a cry, or the

faintest murmur in The Desert, save the heavy dull tramp of our caravan:

all else was the silence of death! However, my Marabout tells me, in the

winter the whole scene is changed. "There is then," he says, "herbage,

rain, birds, gazelles, and all things." It is certain that within nine

hours' ride from Rujban we passed the stubble of two or three patches of

barley, which had been rescued from the dominion of The Desert.

As to myself, personally, in this part of the route, I have suffered most

from want of sleep. In the day-time it was too hot to sleep, and in the

night I was on the back of the camel, where, of course, for the present,

I could not be expected to sleep, though many of the Arabs, nay,

merchants slept. I should say all slept on the camel as soundly as in a

bed. So that what I saved of suffering from the heat of day-travelling, I

lost in want of sleep by night-travelling. Poor human brute! I thought of

the fable of the ass and his winter and summer advantages and

disadvantages. The hottest day was yesterday, last of the four, when we

encamped in a dry bed of a river. I shall never forget that day, forget

what I may else! I was first on the point of being suffocated, and seemed

at my last gasp. I began to think that the predictions of my _friends_ in

Tripoli were about to be verified. I was to succumb to make them

prophets! In addition to this my deep distress, I felt the wound of

pride. I got some tea made, I can't tell how, and poured some brandy

into it. This I drank, and from a fever of delirium found myself

conscious again, and swimming in a bath of perspiration. The crisis was

now passed, and I was to see Ghadames and Ghat, and return to my

fatherland. So fate--rather Providence--would have it. Every day, until I

reached Ghadames, there was a sort of point of halting between life and

suffocation or death in my poor frame, when the European nature struggled

boldly and successfully with the African sun, and all his accumulated

force darting down fires and flames upon my devoted head. After this

point or crisis was past, I always found myself much better. It is

strange that my head never ached, nor was in any way affected during the

whole route, except in the one day mentioned. Some and all have vainly

invoked sleep upon a bed, in the time of darkness and cold, but those who

call for the god in the African Desert, in midday of the hottest season

of the year--and to the last moment of starting with a long, long night

of travel before them--as they lay rolling on the burning sand, and he

disdains to shed his dull influence over the eyelid, know, indeed,

something of this kind of human suffering, and how dreadfully long and

dreary were those nights! What signified the sight of the ten thousand

orbs moving in silent mystic dance, and dressed out in soft bright fires,

over the poor traveller's head! Alas! it was a mockery of his woes. . . .

Four days and four nights were thus passed, without four hours of sleep.

I often wonder if I could go through this again. I had an additional

suffering of the eyes. I never took the veil from my face from sunrise to

sunset, for had I done so, I should have had the hot sand immediately

into them. We had ghiblee or simoon every day. But, thanks to Heaven, now

ends the greatest of my sufferings from heat.

We were escorted by sixty Arab troops on foot, like those who

escorted us from Tripoli to The Mountains. The Pasha mostly chooses

them from districts through which we pass, and in this way secures a

guard well acquainted with the route. But how odd, before the Turks,

in the good old days of The Bashaws, these very Arabs were the

banditti of the route. A Ghadames merchant said to me one day,

"Yâkob[17], see these fellows; formerly all were villanous

_Sbandout_ (banditti)." The captain of this escort, Sheikh Omer, who

will conduct us to Ghadames, was charged by the Commandant of The

Mountains, that his men should not be allowed to take water, or

anything else by force, "bel kouwee," as the merchants said. The

Sheikh was a civil fellow, and found it his interest to cultivate my

acquaintance. Every morning I invited him to take coffee and tea in

my tent, and he never forgot to come. In acknowledgment, he sent me

some liquid butter, which was not excessively bad. The food of the

Arabs, and the poorer sort of the merchants, for this journey was,

as written by my Mohammed, ‮‮سُوِيقَ زُمِيته‬‬

("Souweekah-Zameetah," that is, two names); but commonly called

Zameetah, which is nothing more than barley or wheat burnt or

malted, then ground, and afterwards made into paste. On this is

sometimes poured a little oil or fat; but many cannot afford this

luxury, and must content themselves with a little water to make up

the meal into paste. I may safely affirm, there was not a bit of

meat eaten, or a drop of tea or coffee drunk, in the whole caravan

of merchants, with 200 camels, including, with the Arabs, some 150

persons, during the last four days, except what was eaten and drunk

in my tent. I myself had only a little bit of fowl. The Sheikh

_Shabanee_ (Makouran) as the Arabs call him, was the most civil to

me. His portion of the camels is about forty, and he seems a most

respectable old gentleman. He has two sons with him. He gave me last

night a guzzle of cool water, a large brass pan full, of the size of

a warming-pan, which I drank off in an instant, and found it more

like nectar, than our earthy animalculæ water; it was so deliciously

cool and sweet. Valuable, indeed, becomes a thing of commonest use,

from its scarcity. The old Sheikh has a donkey with him to carry his

drinking-water. The skins keep the water cool even in the hottest

part of the day, whilst some which I had in bottles became quite

hot. I shall here relate an ingenious stratagem, which I recommend

to all African travellers. On leaving The Mountains we had three

skins of water, one for each. But first, one of the skins cracked,

and we lost a good deal of water, before it could be mended. Then

Mohammed, the chief thief, was accustomed to drink large draughts

when neither myself nor Said was present. This we learnt from the

rest of the caravan. Said, himself, poor fellow, as soon as Mohammed

had turned his back, was either to beg me to give him extra water,

or help himself. Sometimes I chided him, at others I gave him water,

or was too much exhausted to see what he was about. Then Said would

help his friends amongst the Arabs now and then, and sometimes the

Arabs helped themselves, by going behind me, and sucking from the

neck of the skin whilst I was riding. To avoid this, Mr. Gagliuffi

told me he always put the neck of the skin-bag before and not

behind, so that it was impossible for a person to drink, and at the

same time to walk backwards with the camel going forwards, or at any

rate to do so without being seen. Then, finally, there was the

terrible action of the sun on the water, often reducing it by a

fifth, and sometimes a third, of our supply. But the consequence of

all this was, our three bags were empty before we arrived at

Seenawan, and the little water which had remained, the third day,

was so shaken in the skins, all being oiled, that for me it was not

drinkable. Now for the stratagem. Apprehending this waste of water,

I got twelve pint bottles filled with water at Tripoli, which were

packed away as wine and spirits, neither Mohammed or Said suspecting

the contrary. Accordingly I quietly despatched my couple of bottles

of _acqua pura_ per day, as the London lady drinkers are said to

take their sly drops from the far corner of the cupboard, without

the least suspicion of my fellow travellers. I overheard once,

Mohammed speaking of me to Said: "By G--d! these Christians, what

lots of rum they drink: that's the reason, Said, the sun does not

kill him--he'll never die. These Christians, Said, are the same as

the dæmons; they know everything, but God will punish them at

last--if not, there's no God, or Prophet of God." I took no notice,

but when we got to Ghadames, I took the remaining bottle, and asked

him to drink. He jumped up with alarm. I then called him a fool, and

proved to him I had been drinking water at the time he thought I

had been drinking rum. He laughed, and said, "Ajeeb, ente Yâkob

âkel: (Wonderful, you James are wise.)" I then took upon myself to

lecture Mohammed, abusing him for his carelessness in not preserving

the water, and asking him if he thought that I, on the first time of

traversing The Desert, could put up with dirty water like them, and

go without for days, or with a very small quantity?

The Sheikh Makouran continues very civil: to-day he gave me a supply of

onions for making soup, and promises to give me a house to live in, when

I get to Ghadames. I have, in turn, to give him some medicine, on my

arrival, for one of his two wives. I rode a little the Sheikh's donkey

last night, at his request. It is nothing like the camel, it stumbled a

great deal over the loose stones, and I am told the horses stumble as

much. I felt the immense superiority of the camel, with its slow regular

pace and sure foot, in these stony wastes. The Sheikh's ass is the only

animal of the beast-of-burden sort in the whole caravan, besides the

camels. I noticed, however, a few extra unladen camels, which take turn

with others for carrying, as also several foals following lightly and

friskily their dams. _En route_, during the nights, the Arab soldiers

amused themselves by firing off their matchlocks, the most advanced party

answering the farthest behind, and _vice versâ_. The noise of the gun

broke through the painful silence of The Desert, and came finely back

reverberating from the Saharan hills with double and treble discharges of

sound. When their powder began to be exhausted, and they have never more

than half-a-dozen charges, they sang their plaintive love ditties, or

chatted to the merchants. On the whole, they showed great good temper,

and, pennyless and naked, were happier than well-clothed and wealthy

merchants.

In the afternoon of yesterday a letter was brought to me, written by

Gameo, which had been in the ghafalah nearly all the length of the route,

but had been forgotten. This stated that Mr. Macauley, the American

Consul, had kindly prepared a small package of American rum for my

journey, and had forgotten to send it till too late--in fact, like

several persons in Tripoli, he really thought, what from the intrigues of

the Pasha, and the obstacles of the season, I should never get off. I may

observe, the nearer a person is to an object, it often happens he sees it

less:--

"'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view."

There is infinitely less enthusiasm for African discovery,--nay, more

horror of African travelling in Tripoli than in London: in truth, the

greater part of the Europeans of Tripoli, and in all Barbary towns, are a

degraded unenthusiastic race, wholly occupied with their petty quarrels

and intrigues. Of course, a man of my stamp was considered by them either

"_un sciocco_" or "_un matto_."

It is the misfortune of Africa to be surrounded by a cordon of vitiated

races, half-caste and mongrel breeds, propagated from adventurers and

convicts from the other continents of the world. So that Africa learns

nothing but the vices of civilization from its contact with the rest of

the world. It is also certain, that the native tribes of Africa itself

are more immoral and barbarous on the coasts than in the interior.

We have had the full moon during our last four days. Our route is always

more or less south-west.

As I expected, Said is knocked up and lamed. The Marabout has cheated

Said all along out of his rides, under pretence of his having made him a

pair of shoes. This Marabout is the cunningest, cruellest rogue I ever

met with. But I must here relate a service which he rendered me of

considerable importance. Nobody could pronounce, at any rate _recollect_,

my name. Mohammed said to me one day, "_Ingleez_, we have many names,

have you no more than one? The ghafalah can't learn your name, it's too

difficult. Make a name like ours, if you haven't one." I then told him I

had another, _James_, and that it was in Arabic, _Yâkob_. Hereupon, his

eyes moved round wildly with joy, and he cried out,--"That's it! that's

it!" He immediately started off amongst all the people, calling out my

name was "_Yâkob_." This _second_ christening in The Sahara was an

immense advantage to me. There is now not an oasis in the wildest and

farthest region of the Great Desert but what has heard of _Yâkob_. When I

arrived at Ghat I was astonished to find even the Touaricks calling me

_Yâkob, as if I had been brought up with them_. Clapperton and the rest

of his party adopted Mahometan names, and were wise in doing so. When I

was in Fezzan, Clapperton's Arabic name of _Abdallah_ was mentioned more

than twenty years after his death in Soudan. Denham was called The

_Rais_, being an officer.

The road from The Mountains to Seenawan is very good. The greater part,

indeed, is beautiful broad carriage-road. It is generally well marked

with camel-paths, about a foot wide. These well-beaten, well-trodden

paths, are very sinuous, running one into another, and often are in great

numbers, running parallel in serpentine style, and containing a united

breadth of a hundred yards. There are a few places where no road-traces

are apparent to the European eye, but the well-practised eye of the

Bedouin camel-driver, like the eye of the Indian in the American

Wilderness, can see things, and shapes, and signs in The Desert which

entirely escape us. Along the line of route small heaps of stone are

placed, said by my Marabout "to point out the way." We did not meet a

single traveller all the four days, no small parties--no couriers--no

one. I shall not soon forget our reaching Seenawan. It was a few hours

after midnight. I looked forward to it as the haven of rest from all my

sufferings. A fellow-traveller came up to me, (for I had been asking all

night long to see it,) and said, "See, Yâkob, there is the _Nukhlah_

(palms) of Seenawan." Looking through the shadowy moon-light, I thought I

saw something very small and black, and made a start at it from my camel

as if I was going to leap into a downy bed of rest under the eternal

shade of grateful palms. When the object is grasped, how its value

vanishes! We threw down the mattress under the shade of a little ruined

round tower, and I fell asleep. But such a tempest got up that the people

waked me, covered with sand, and made me crawl into a hole, called the

door of the _burge_. Here, amongst heaps of stones and dirt, I fell

asleep again, and did not wake till called next day near noon.

Seenawan is but a handful of date-trees, thrown upon the wide waste of

The Sahara, with one or two pools of sluggish running water, sheltering

beneath its palms thirty or forty inhabitants. There are four or five

spots of vegetation, gems of emerald on the rugged brow of The Desert.

The houses, if such they are, consist of half a dozen or more of mud

hovels huddled together, here and there a little stone stuck in the

walls, and some dark passages running beneath them. One or two had a

couple of stories and a stone wall round them. Yet, within, they are

cool, and have dark rooms to protect the inhabitants from both heat and

cold. There are also two or three mud and stone _burges_, or round

towers, to protect the few dates and spots of green. Nevertheless, in

this pretence of existence, surrounded by the frightful sterility of The

Desert, glowed the warmth of true hospitality. The Arab merchant, Zaleeâ,

who lives here, and had been one of our caravan, made me come to dine

with him in his house, and introduced me to his family. He gave me for

dinner boiled mutton and sopped bread. When I started next day, he

presented me a supply of eggs and two fowls, a sumptuous feast in The

Desert! I found his wife and daughter suffering with ophthalmia, and made

them up a pint-bottle of solution for washing the eye. I had had to wash

the eyes of many poor Arabs during the last few days. I gave Zaleeâ's

aged father half a dozen ship's biscuits, a part of one of which he

sopped and ate. The old gentleman offered up a prayer for my safety, and

said he would save one to eat on my safe return.

The morning of the 20th was horribly hot, but I was housed and sheltered

in the old _burge_. I received a present of some fresh dates. This was

the small black date of Ghadames, which is peculiar to two or three

oases about here. They were delicious as fruits of the garden of the

Houris, and certainly now more esteemed by me. The Commandant, seeing me

write to-day, wished to have the honour of his name being written in my

journal. It is Omer Ben Aly Ben Kareem Bez-Zeen Laseeâ. The people showed

no jealousy at my writing notes. Indeed, they were quite aware this was

part of my business, and often assisted in telling me the names of

persons and places. Never went an European into the interior with less

suspicions flying about him amongst his fellow-travellers. I attribute

this, in a great measure, to the frankness with which I spoke about

Government and the Turkish authorities, as well as the Consular people of

Tripoli. Besides, I never affected to conceal my objects. Here a man

wrote in my journal the names of abuse applied to the lazy, lagging

camels, for his own especial amusement; viz., "_Ya kafer, Ya kelb, Ya

Yehoud_, 'Oh thou infidel!' 'Oh thou dog!' 'Oh thou Jew!'" In a quarrel,

the Arabs transfer them complacently to one another, with sundry

additions and oaths, too broad for ears polite. _Kafer_, ("infidel,") and

_Deen El-kelb_, ("religion of a dog,") are the most odious terms of abuse

which they can throw at one another.

_21st._--We left early this first sprinkle of Seenawan vegetation, and

passed the 22nd at the larger spot of the oases. This second spot is

called Shâour; but both oases are included in the first name, as Ghat and

Berkat are included in _Ghat_. It is necessary to make these distinctions

in order to guard against error in laying down the routes. Shâour

consists of a few stunted date-trees, a little _gusub_, a grain esteemed

almost as much as wheat, and one or two fig or other fruit-trees. The

united oasis, though but containing a population of sixty souls, and all

very poor people, pay 600 mahboubs per annum to the Pasha of Tripoli. The

oldest man of the place told me, that, from the first hour of his

observation and recollection, to the present time, the water had always

been the same in quantity. There is always a little more in the winter.

It is running water, and as it runs and bubbles up to the surface it is

distributed over the little garden plots and patches. I asked him why he

did not make the gardens larger? "God bless you," he replied, "we would

if we had more water." It is surprising to notice the regularity of even

this scanty supply of water through the years of an old man's life,

upwards of eighty, in the heart of The Desert, for such is the site of

the oasis of Seenawan. I looked about for birds, but saw none. My aged

informant said, "In the winter there are some doves." No wild beast haunt

the environs; they cannot get at the water. The people keep a few sheep,

goats, and fowls. There are also a dozen or so of camels. It is

remarkable that the soil of this speck of vegetable existence is entirely

sandy, and all the water comes out of the sand. But in places, indeed, on

the coast of Barbary, the finest and most vigorous vegetation often

bursts forth out of a purely sandy soil. By the time all the ghafalah had

taken their supply of water, and the camels had drunk, the pools were

dried up or exhausted, and the people of the village had to wait for the

running of the water. I put a last question to my aged Saharan

_Cicerone_,--"How do you live here, do you work?" "I am always sleeping,"

(or _kāéd_, "reposing.") "But, how do you get anything to eat?" "Oh, I

eat every other day, when I can get it, and sleep the rest of the time:

what can I do?" Such is vegetable and animal existence here!

Nevertheless, this show and sham of life looks fair, fresh, nay,

enchanting, after the five days' desert; and all, as well as myself,

welcomed Seenawan as a little Hesperides.

We were a tolerably harmonious caravan, but had now and then a good

quarrel. To-day a serious misunderstanding broke out between the

Commandant Omer and one of the merchants. I could not learn what it was

about, but Omer drew his sword twice to strike the merchant, and was only

prevented doing so by the bystanders rushing on him. The Sheikh Makouran

came to me apart and said: "Now, if they ask you who's to blame, say

both." We then advanced to the parties, and the Sheikh turned to me, and

said: "_Yâkob_, who's to blame?" I immediately said, though I knew

nothing of the business: "Everybody, all of you." This was the signal for

a burst of laughter, and the group separated. The quarrel, however, did

not finish, it was carried to Ghadames and settled there. The Arabs enjoy

a good quarrel, and, like good ale, they prefer it, not being too new,

but caulked up a bit. The greater part of their occupation and amusement

is supplied by quarrels.

Before leaving Seenawan the merchants dispatched a courier to Ghadames,

and Mohammed wrote a letter to the Governor, telling him very pompously:

"The English Consul of Ghadames was approaching the city under his

protection." Mohammed said he had submitted the letter to the Sheikh

Makouran, and it was approved. I approved of anything that had not my

name attached to it.

_22nd, 23rd._--Left in the afternoon, and continued all night, till two

hours before day-break. Rose at sun-rise and continued till nearly noon.

Halted for the Kailah, and afterwards resumed our journey, continuing all

night. The people of the ghafalah amused themselves in the night, by

"playing at powder." As they fired the matchlocks, they shouted the name

of the person whom they intended to honour, mostly firing off the gun

just under his nose. Mohammed was very active in the business, and kept

firing off my praises, and those of the Sheikh Makouran. This mode of

compliment is universal in North Sahara. The Marabout is a good

politician, and knows what he is about. He knew that Makouran and myself

could serve him. The style of firing off these praises was this: "Who's

this for?" cries the person that has the musket ready loaded. A number of

persons, the flatterers of the great man, answer, "The Sheikh Makouran!"

The majority has it if other names are mentioned. The man with his gun

then runs before the Sheikh, and fires it off in his face, or a very

short distance from him.

The camel-drivers showed a perverse disposition for continuing all night

the 22nd and 23rd, and would not halt, without difficulty, for the two or

three hours' rest before day-break. The Commandant called for more than an

hour: "_Ya oulād oŭăl kāéd_, (You first fellows stop!)" I never felt

so angry with any people, as I did with these oulad in advance, I myself

was calling out, "You first fellows stop!" But they were full a mile in

advance. The Arabs are very fond of this sort of disorder and annoyance

to others. Another party took it into their heads to halt at noon, the

23rd, several miles from the rest. The Commandant went after them, broke

up their encampment with violence, using his sword to hide them, and

brought them up to the main body. Very windy these two days, and got the

sand in everything, cooking utensils, cups, glasses, bowls. We found the

sand, however, occasionally useful, and used it instead of water for

cleaning our platters and cooking pots. Some of the people say, it is

better than water for cleaning pots and platters.

I have already said how my camel was harnessed, if harnessing it can be

called. First, two panniers were placed (nicely balanced), which formed a

sort of platform upon a level with the camel's back-ridge and hump; a

mattress and skins next were placed on this, which were tied down with

Arab herb-cords, and carried under the belly of the camel, securing the

panniers as well as the coverlets. A small ottoman was then put at the

top, on which I sat as on a chair-cushion, with my legs hanging down on

each side of the camel's neck. Sometimes I lay at my full length across

the mattress. But this the people disapproved of for fear I should fall

off. They, however, frequently slept this way whilst riding. I was

dressed as slightly as possible, and had on a gingham frock coat, with a

leghorn hat. During the time the sun was above the horizon, I held up an

umbrella and tied a dark-green silk handkerchief over my eyes and face. I

could have borne more clothing, but I think the Moors and Arabs had too

much. They don't change the quantity with the season, and wear as much in

summer as in winter. The consequence is, they are very cold in winter,

and very much oppressed in summer; but it is mostly the want of means

which does not allow them to change their clothing with the season. I

carried a little bottle of spirits and water to drink. In the night I was

to eat a little biscuit. None of the camels had bridles, unless used

solely to ride upon. The camel which I rode was a very good one, and very

knowing, and, like many knowing animals, very vicious. He was in the

habit of biting all the other camels which did not please him on their

hind quarters, but took care not to get bitten himself. He seldom

stumbled, and I was rarely in fear of falling. A camel will never plunge

down a deep descent, but always turn round when it comes to the edge of a

precipice. I often rode for several hours with comparative comfort. The

camel-drivers never ride when their camels are laden, sometimes suffering

as much as the camels themselves. I somewhat offended the self-love of

the people of Ghadames. I asked them whether Ghadames was bigger than

Seenawan. They said pettishly, "Ghadames _blad medina_, (Ghadames is a

city)."

_24th._--Emjessen. Arrived at these wells about 10 A.M. Earlier we had

passed a place where they were trying to get water. Emjessen is a vast

salt plain, which is covered over in different parts with a coating of

salt, hard enough and thick enough to furnish materials for building. And

here they were building a _burge_, "tower," or _kasbah_, "castle," or

_fonduk_, "caravanserai," (all which names people called it,) with a

large wall round the principal wells, the materials of which were red

earth and lumps of salt, some of which appeared as hard as the soft Malta

stone. The water is, of course, brackish, but nevertheless the camels

drank it with eagerness. I was staring at the eagerness with which the

camels were drinking, when the Commandant said, "_Enhār săkoun, Yâkob_,"

(a hot day, James,) "do the camels in your country drink water in that

way?" Hereat a merchant interposed, and instructed the Rais that the

English had no camels, but lived on boats in the water. This is a very

commonly spread opinion respecting the English in The Desert. But Caillié

says of the Foulahs near Kankan, and other tribes: "The prevailing idea

of the people in the interior of Soudan is, that we inhabit little

islands in the middle of the ocean, and that the Europeans wish to get

possession of their country, which is the most beautiful in the world."

Mohammed would not allow his camels to drink here, and said the water was

bad. Emjessen is situate about ten hours from Ghadames, say, a short

day's journey.

The Sahara all around now showed still more marked features of sterility,

of unconquerable barrenness. Here too, for the first time, I saw

boundless ridges and groups of sand stretching far away to the

south-west, but they were low squatting heaps. Some sand-hills we had

crossed for an hour or two. Mohammed called them _wâr_, and asked me to

descend to save his camel's legs, I thought my legs less practised in The

Desert than the camel's, and kept my place. Here were spread about,

between the sand-hills and low black stony ridges, plains of salt and

chalk. My first impression was, that the sea had once covered these

regions.

Our route was still south-west, and south, and the prevailing wind

_ghiblee_, or from about the same quarter.

On leaving _Emjessem_, we were met in the afternoon by several friends

and relatives of the merchants, who had come from Ghadames in answer or

invitation to our letters written at _Seenawan_. These strangers (to me)

were finely mounted upon camels of the Maharee species, both themselves

and their camels dressed out superbly, the camels being tightly reined

up like coursers. They had a novel and noble appearance, and I thought I

saw in them something of the genuine features of The Desert. They had

come eight or ten miles an hour, a long _galloping_ trot, for such is the

motion of the camel. As soon as the two parties met, there was a

simultaneous scamper off of our camels, and some of theirs got very

unmanageable. I was nearly thrown off, and it required Mohammed and Said

to hold my camel until the alarm had subsided. The Sheikh Makouran was

obliged to dismount and ride his donkey. I asked Mohammed what was the

matter, for I could not understand this strange confusion all at once

amongst the camels. He cried very angrily, "The camels are drunk, are

mad--God made them so." When things got more settled, the merchants

explained to me that it was the antipathies of the two races, the

_coast_-camel, and the Maharee or _desert_-camel. That each was alarmed,

but the most fierce and dominant was the Maharee, which always assumed

the mastery over the coast-camel, "like," added one, "the Touarick

assumes to be lord over the Arab."

To-night I was obliged to quarrel seriously with Mohammed. Said was now

quite lame and could not walk more. I told Mohammed plainly he should

have no present as first promised, since he had broken his agreement

about Said's riding. He then put Said on a camel. The merchants were much

amused at the quarrel, and thought me an ass to quarrel about _a slave_,

(for such they esteemed Said) having a ride[18]. Some few observed I was

right, and bullied Mohammed, who now made another lying excuse, that his

two camels were knocked up, which was the reason Said didn't ride. The

early part of the night he had been riding one of them himself, and

taxing him with this, he said, "Yes, but was I not ill, didn't you give

me some water and acid, and sugar?" I replied, "Yes, I recollect it too

well, I'm sorry I had so good an opinion of you." The Commandant now came

up, and some bawled, "Here's a _shamatah_[19] with Said," and explained

the business. The Commandant, without any more to do, takes the back of

his sword and belabours Mohammed till he cries for mercy. Then the people

beg the Rais to desist, and say, "Mohammed is a _marabout_ and must not

be beaten." Mohammed was very cunning, and always took care to repeat

aloud a prayer when we started afresh from any station, and so gained the

esteem of the more pious. Said rode the rest of the way to Ghadames.

During the greater part of the night of the 24th we reposed. At dawn of

day, on the 25th, we started fresh on the last march. Just when day had

broken over half the heavens, _I saw Ghadames_! which appeared like _a

thick streak of black_ on the pale circle of the horizon. This was its

date-woods. I now fancied I had discovered a new world, or had seen

Timbuctoo, or followed the whole course of the Niger, or had done

something very extraordinary. But the illusion soon vanished, as vanish

all the vain hopes and foolish aspirations of man. I found afterwards

that I had only made one step, or laid one stone, in raising for myself a

monument of fame in the annals of African discovery!

FOOTNOTES:

[12] The term Rais is applied by these people both to a naval and

military commander, the literal meaning being "head."

[13] When an European arrives first in a remote Barbary town,

although there may be many Europeans in the place, he is mostly

called and mentioned in Moorish society as "The Christian," which

happened to myself in Mogador.

[14] How strangely the genius of nations of such different habits

have given the name of "sisters" to separate groups of trees. I

have also passed twin peaks of mountains in Africa, called

"brothers" by the Arabs. But _Bou_ or _Abou_, "father," is the

ordinary appellation of things in North Africa. _Omm_, "mother,"

is also very common. The two last are found in combination.

[15] Long names are not confined to European rank and royalty. The

Sheikh's name in full is, "The Sheikh Bel Kasem Ben Ali

Abd-el-Hafeeth, the Rujbanee." And this is only the quarter of the

length of some of these names.

[16] So I found it written in the first portions of the journal.

[17] _Yâkob_, Arabic for James.

[18] There were certainly several slaves walking; but they were

all long accustomed to it, whilst Said had only just come out of a

weaver's establishment, where he had been many years.

[19] Turkish, "a row;" but mostly "war," "battles."