FROM GHAT TO MOURZUK.
Slaves very sensible to the Cold.--Well of Tasellam.--Saharan
Huntsman.--Atmospheric Phenomenon.--My Adventure at the Palace of
Demons.--Denham and Oudney's Account of the Kesar Jenoun.--The
Genii of Mussulmans.--Desert Pandemonium compared with that of
Milton.--Coasting the Range of Wareerat or Taseely.--Soudan
Species of Sheep.--Soudan Parrot.--The Lethel Tree.--The Tholh,
or Gum-Arabic Tree.--Falling of Rain in The Desert.--Oasis of
Serdalas.--My Companions of Travel.--Weather Hot and Sultry.--The
Slaves bear up well.--The Ship of The Desert.--Extremes of Cold
and Heat.--Mausoleum of Sidi Bou Salah.--Serdalas, a neglected
Oasis.--The Sybil of The Sahara.--Death and Burial of two Female
Slaves.--Dirge on the Death of one of them, whipped at the point
of Death.--Power of the Sun in Sahara.--Desert Mosques.
_6th._--ROSE early, but did not start until the sun was well up, on
account of the slaves. These Nigritian people cannot bear the cold. Our
northern cold affects them more than their southern heat does us. Heat
can be borne better than cold in Saharan travelling. Am glad to see that
Haj Ibrahim has a large tent pitched for the greater part of the
miserable shivering things. It is made of rough tanned bullock skins, and
holds the heat like a shut-up furnace. These tents are brought from
Soudan, and after being used for slaves journeying over Sahara, are sold
for so much leather. Touaricks also use them in their districts. In
truth, Haj Ibrahim treats his slaves as much like a gentlemanly Moor as
he well can or could do, all their wants being attended to, and no
freedoms being taken with the young women. Their greatest hardship is to
walk, but after a night's rest, they partially recover. I may add, this
is the best equipped caravan I could travel with, and, perhaps, hardly a
fair specimen to judge of for ordinary slave-caravans. We continued our
route along the chain of mountains to the east, having, on our left, a
corresponding ridge of low sand hills. During the day, we traversed a
broad deep valley or wady, and, indeed, water had covered a good part of
it in the early winter of this year. Here was abundant herbage, and
camels feeding belonging to the people of Ghat. There is also a well of
water out of the line of route on the left, about one and a half days'
from Ghat, but having a good supply, it was not necessary to seek it. It
is called _Tăsellam_. Here we met a hunter,--
"An African
That traverses our vast Numidian deserts
In quest of prey, and lives upon his bow
Coarse are his meals, the fortune of his chase;
He toils all day, and at th' approach of night,
On the first friendly bank he throws him down,
Or rests his head upon a rock till morn;
Then rises fresh, pursues his wonted game,
And if the following day he chance to find
A new repast, or an untasted spring,
Blesses his stars and thinks it a luxury."
The Targhee huntsman was clothed in skins, and was a genuine type of the
hardships of open Desert life. The objects of his chase were gazelles and
ostriches, and the aoudad. His weapons were small spears and a matchlock.
A most sorry-looking greyhound slunk along at his heels, the very
personification of ravening hunger.
_Writer._--"Targhee, where are you going?"
_Huntsman._--"I don't know."
_Writer._--"Where have you been?"
_Huntsman._--"Over the sand." (Pointing west.)
_Writer._--"Have you caught anything?"
_Huntsman._--"Nothing."
_Writer._--"When do you drink?"
_Huntsman._--"Now and then."
_Writer._--"Have you anything to eat?"
_Huntsman._--"Nothing."
_Writer._--"When did you eat anything last?"
_Huntsman._--"I forget."
I threw him down from my camel some barley-bread and dates. He picked
them up, but said nothing, and went his way. Turning round to look after
him, I saw him cut across to the mountains on the east.
Observed to-day some curious atmospheric phenomena. A light vapour, the
lightest, airiest of the airiest, swept gently along the surface of the
ground, but as if unimpelled by any secret influence. It was also dead
calm. The vapour continued to sweep before us, till at length it suddenly
rose up to the sky in the form of a spiral column of air, and then
disappeared. In this valley, which widened as we advanced, we once or
twice saw the mirage running along the ground like prostrate columns of
foam, striking out sparklings of light.
Towards noon we had a full view of the celebrated Kesar Jenoun--"Palace
of Demons," to the west; in coming to Ghat we had it on the east. As we
neared it, Haj Ibrahim said to me, "Well, Yâkob, we must go and see the
great Palace of Demons. We must see what it is, and you must write all
about it."
At 4 o'clock P.M., we encamped right opposite its eastern side. On
encamping, I looked about for Haj Ibrahim, and found him busy unpacking.
I then very carelessly determined to start myself alone. I thought it,
however, a good opportunity to show the people of the caravan that I was
not influenced by superstitious fears, and that, as an Englishman and a
Christian, I cared little about their dreaded Palace of Demons. Haj Omer,
the merchant's servant, called out after me on starting, "Be off, make
haste, you'll be back by sunset." I equipped myself with the spear and
dagger of Shafou, and started off at a good pace, making a straight and
direct cut to The Palace. I scarcely noticed anything on the road going
along, staring with full face at the Huge Block of Mountain. But, on
getting out of sight of the encampment, and, under the shadow of this
"great rock in a weary land," I unaccountably felt the influence of those
very superstitious fears and terrors which I was so anxious to combat in
my fellow-travellers. I then soliloquized to myself, "What a poor
creature is man, how weak, how miserable! how exposed to every whim and
folly which a credulous mind can invent!" Thus soliloquizing, I got
within the mysterious precincts of the Great Mountain Rock, in the course
of three-quarters of an hour. I had, however, still more fear of the
living than the dead, and said to myself mechanically aloud, "Man has
more to fear from the living than the dead;" and I looked around
anxiously this way, and that way, and every way, if perchance there might
lurk, as the demon of the mountain, some stray bandit. Reassuring myself,
my thoughts turned on science. I wished to astonish the boobies of the
British Museum by geological specimens from the far-famed palace of
mortal and immortal spirits, built in the heart of The Great Desert. I
picked up various pieces of stone which lay scattered at its rocky base.
But I found nothing but calcareous marl, or basaltic chippings and
crumblings, some of cream colour, some lavender, some purple, some
red-brown, some nearly black. This done, as connoisseur of geology, I
stood stock still and gaped open-mouthed like an idiot, at the huge
pyramidal ribs of The Rock. Then I bethought me I would ascend some of
these offshoots of the mountain, and take a quiet seat of observation
from off one of the battlemental turrets which capped its many-towered
heights, over all the subjected desert and lesser hills and rocks below.
But I soon changed my mind; not recognizing any decided advantage in
scrambling up--God knows where--over heaps upon heaps of crumbling
falling rock. I now turned my back to the Demons' Cavern, without having
had the honour or pleasure of making a single acquaintance amongst these
demi-immortals, much to my regret, and my face was towards the
encampment. At least I thought so. I saw at once that the king of day was
fast going down to sup on the other side of The Palace, or perhaps with
the Demons, and I must hasten back to my supper. I started on my return
as carelessly as I came, with this foolish difference, that, although not
remarking a single part of my way hither, I fancied I would take a
shorter cut back to supper, beginning to feel hungry, having eaten
nothing since morning. In fact, I soon got into another track upon this
absurd idea of shortening the route. I recommend my successors in Saharan
travel, never to try short-cuts in unknown places. In ten minutes I made
sure of my encampment, and ran right up to some mounds of sand topped
with bushes, where I expected to find Said with the supper already
cooked, and the nagah lying snugly by, eating her dates and barley. But
that was not the encampment. The sun was now gone, and following hard
upon his heels were lurid fleecy clouds of red, the last attendants of
his daily march through the desert heavens. I now looked a little
farther, and said to myself, "There they are!" I went to "There they
are," and found no encampment. I continued still farther, and said, "Ah,
there they are!" and went to "Ah, there they are!" and found no
encampment. I now made a turn to the south, and saw them quietly encamped
under "various mounds," and went to "various mounds," but the encampment
sunk under the earth, for they "were not." All was right, and "never
mind," I should soon see their fires, and was extremely glad to notice
all the light of day quenched in the paling light of a rising crescent,
some five or six days old. I thus continued cheerfully my search another
quarter of an hour, when all at once, as if struck by an electric shock,
it flashed across my mind, "Peradventure, I might be lost for the night!"
and be obliged to make my bed in Open Desert. I have seen in my life-time
people strike a dead wall, as a convenient butt against which to vent
their ill-disguised rage. I now must have a victim for my vexation. It
was not wanting. I felt something heavy and dragging in my pocket. The
half hour's running about had reminded me of some until now unnoticed
heavy weight, and this was the stones, and these were my grand specimens
of geology. I quietly took out all the stones from my pocket, and threw
them deliberately but savagely away, certainly a very proper punishment
for leading me such "a wild-goose chase," such "a dance," over The
Desert. In my wrath I was not disheartened. Now, as it was dark, I began
to ascend the highest mounds of Desert, from, whose top I might descry
the fires of our encampment. I wandered round and round, and on, now
over, sand and sand-hills, now climbed up trees, now upon eminences of
sand or earth-banks, seeking the highest mounds of the vast plain, to see
if any lights were visible, looking earnestly every way. No light showed
itself as a beacon to the lost Desert traveller--no sound saluted his ear
with the welcome cry, "Here we are!" Felt so weary that I was now obliged
to lie down to rest a little. But soon refreshed, I determined to return
to The Palace, and find the place which I had visited. The fear and
thought of being lost in The Desert now mastered every other
consideration, and I started unappalled to the Black Rock, without ever
thinking of the myriads of spirits which at the time were keeping their
midnight revels within its mysterious caverns. Got near The Rock, but I
saw no place which I had seen before. The mountain had now at night
assumed other shapes, other forms, other colours. Probably the demons
were dancing all over it, or fluttering round it like clouds of bats and
crows, preventing me from seeing its real shape and proportions. Be it as
it may, I could not recognize the place which I had so recently visited.
I now climbed up some detached pieces of rock to look for lights. I
sprang up with the elastic step of the roe, over huge broken fragments of
rock, aided by a sort of supernatural strength, the stones rolling down
and smashing with strange noises as I was springing over them. From these
crumbling heights I looked eastward, and every way, but no friendly
light, watch-fire, or supper-fire, was visible. I descended, much heated,
in a flowing perspiration, feeling also the cold chill of the higher
atmosphere. I began to have thirst, the worst enemy of the Saharan
traveller, and fatigue was violently attacking me. I considered (which
afterwards I found quite correct) I had got too far north. I could not
recognize at all the processes of detached rock over which I had been
scrambling. I must be several miles too high up. I went down along the
sides of the Immense Rock, looking at every new shape it assumed to find
the place where so quietly I picked up the stones and geologized a few
hours before. All was vain. Fatigue was overpowering me, and my senses
began to reel like a drunken man. Now was the time to see the visions and
mysteries of this dread abode, and unconsciously to utter sounds of
unknown tongues. Now, indeed, I fancied I heard people call me; now I saw
lights; now I saw a camel with a person mounted in search of me, to whom
I called. And, what is strange, these sights and sounds were all about
the natural and not the supernatural. For instance, I did not see the
visage of a grinning goblin just within a little chink of The Rock, as I
ought to have seen. I did not see "faëry elves" dancing in the moonlit
beams, as I ought to have seen. Then boldly I took a direct course from
the mountain over the plain, believing I should intercept our encampment.
I continued this line for two hours, or not quite so much, but I found
myself a long way east over the plain, where was neither camel, nor
encampment, nor object, nor light, nor any moving thing. I then proceeded
north, thinking I had got too far south again. Here I found a group of
sand-hills, a new region, in which I painfully wandered and wandered up
and down. I knew the encampment could not be here. To get clear of this
horrible predicament, I made another set at the Palace Rock, as if to
implore the mercy and forgiveness of the Genii. In an hour I found myself
again under its dark shadows. I walked up and down by its doleful dismal
sides, thinking if any people were sent in pursuit of me I might find
them. All was the silence of the dead--no form flitted by except those
which filled my disturbed imagination. I once more returned eastward to
the plain, but my head was now swimming, my legs shrank from under me,
and I fell exhausted upon the sand. There I lay some time to rest. My
brain, hot and bewildered, was crowded with all sorts of fancies, but my
courage did not sink. I was seeing every moment people in pursuit of me.
I heard them repeatedly call "Yâkob." Somewhat composed, I determined
upon giving up the search of the encampment till day-light, and went
about to find a tree under which to sleep, if I could. I went to one, but
did not like it, being low and straggling on the ground, exposed to the
first chance intruder. I sought another, which I had before observed, for
in this state I was forced to pick out the objects of the plain. I found
my tree, which in passing before by it I thought would make me a good
bed. I could not find the encampment, but the tree observed before, I
could find. It was placed on a very high mound of earth, which was
covered with a large bushy lethel-tree. Happy tree! I have always loved
thy name since. Under this I crept, but finding the top of the mound of a
sugar-loaf form, I scooped out on its sides, digging away with my hands
earth and dried leaves, a long narrow cell, literally a grave,
determining, if I should perish hereabouts, this should be my grave. I
found it very snug, for the wind now got up east, and moaned in the
lethel-tree above my head. I drove the spear in the earth, near "the
bolster," and took off the dagger from my arm. Had on my cloak, which I
rolled fast round me, and got warm.
The midnight wind increased its doleful notes and heavy moans. Now a
gruff piping of a cracked barrelled organ, and now, a wild shriek of one
crying in distress.
"Mournfully! Oh! mournfully,
This midnight wind doth sigh,
Like some sweet plaintive melody,
Of ages long gone by.
"It speaks a tale of other years--
Of hopes that bloomed to die--
Of sunny smiles that set in tears,
And loves that mouldering lie!
"Mournfully! Oh! mournfully,
This midnight wind doth moan;
It stirs some chord of memory,
In each dull heavy tone.
"The voices of the much-loved dead,
Seen floating thereupon--
All, all my fond heart cherished
Ere death had made it lone."
My first object was to lie and rest my senses, so that I should recover a
little of my bodily strength, as well as have my thoughts about me. Of
wild beasts I could not be afraid; I knew there were none. Of the wilder
animals still, the Desert bandits, I also had every reason to believe
there were none. But, from my elevated position, I could see their
approach, or that of friends, nearly all around me. My only fear was to
perish of thirst, for it attacked me now severely. Thus I lay for an hour
or so, and then got up to watch the objects of Desert. All things were
deformed in the shadowy moonlight, and most things looked double with the
reeling of my poor senses. Several times I imagined I saw a camel coming,
actually passing by a few paces from the base of the mound. Frightened at
these illusions of the brain, I determined to try to sleep; my thirst
still increased and prevented me. As fatigue left me, my head became
clearer, and more serious thoughts occupied the mind. The moon, however,
I watched, wheeling her "pale course," for I knew she finished now her
shadowy reign a few hours before morning. It is impossible to give any
outline of the thoughts which now rapidly and in wild succession passed
my mind: suffice to say, I committed my spirit to the Creator who gave
it. I repeated mechanically to myself aloud, "Weeping may endure for the
night, but joy cometh in the morning." I now took the bold resolution to
return to Ghat, not wasting my strength in the morning, after having made
a short search in The Desert. It was the only chance of saving my life,
if I could not at once find the encampment. This resolution kept up the
strength of my mind, and prevented me from sinking into despair. I had
nothing to eat, nor drink, but I might reach Ghat in the evening of the
second day, or if strong enough, I might get back in one long day. I knew
the route along the line of Wareerat, and could not possibly lose myself
when I was only to pursue the camel-track at the base of this mountain
range. The only difficulty was, lest I should turn to the right and get
entangled amongst the sand-hills and dwarf wood, before I reached the
turning of the road which would conduct me direct to Ghat. Things which
have made an impression in childhood, the soonest recur to the mind in
these distressing cases. I thought of poor Hagar with her Ishmael,
exposed to perish with thirst in The Desert: it was exactly my case,
whilst dim vistas of childhood now filled up the chasms of opening
memory. Byron's dying gladiator, in the last struggles of death, saw the
green banks of the Rhine, the flowery scenes of his childhood's days,
and, amid the horrid din of the Roman amphitheatre, heard the innocent
shouts of his little playmates. I was now suffering a dreadful thirst,
and might perish unless the same Providence directed me to the well, or
the encampment, as guided the wretched handmaiden of Sarah.
Within seven or eight miles from the place where I now lay, I recollected
there was the well Tasellam, under the shadow of The Rock. But how to
find it, when I could not find the encampment lying still nearer me! Then
came lesser thoughts and vexations. What was I to do in Ghat? How get
back even if I escaped with my life in my teeth to the oasis? And would
not the first thing, on my escape, be an attack of fever? Then recurred
to me the words of my friend Fletcher, "Expose yourself to no unnecessary
risks." The strongest self-condemnation stung me, I was vexed at my
extreme folly. Shall I add, that my thoughts wandered far over The
Desert, skimmed over the surge of the Mediterranean, and ascended on the
wing of the east wind, now cooling my burning forehead, and sought some
sad solace in dear objects of my fatherland. Oh! the heart shrinks from
revealing to the world its secret thoughts, its sorrowful regrets, its
bitter self-reproaches! I must be silent of the rest. I now got up, sleep
I could not. I was rejoiced to see a blacker shade thrown upon all
night-visible things. The moon had performed her nocturnal duty,
submissive and obedient to the law imposed upon her by universal nature,
and had also sunk back, like the sun, below the Giant Demon Rock. I then
lay down again, and just before day, after a few moments of broken sleep,
for I even slept and forgot my perilous plight, another time I came out
of my living grave to make observations. I looked at the eastern and
western horizons, and thought the eastern was the lighter of the two, and
there was the false dawn, or the dawn itself. I had often watched these
dawns in the route from Tripoli to Ghadames, and grew wise in
interpreting nocturnal sights and signs by dire experience. I lay down
once more. Half an hour past, I came again and the last time forth, for
all the east was now inflamed with the breaking out of day. The wheels of
the sun's chariot were of radiant light vermilion, the horses, of darting
orient flame, were being yoked on, and I stood silent and sad to see "the
great king of day" mount, and commence his diurnal course. The Rock of
Demons repelled the light, and shrouded itself in deeper gloom, as Desert
morn advanced,
"And sow'd the earth with orient pearl;"
for even in the dry Desert the morning sheds some moisture, if not
dew-drops. But on that Rock my thoughts now concentrated--there I must
soon return, and revisit all its dark and rugged precincts. This was my
only chance to meet with any persons sent in pursuit of me, if such there
were. Began to see I had wandered at least eight miles from the Huge
Rock. I threw my mantle over my shoulders, put the dagger under my left
arm, and took the lance in my right hand, which felt heavy, for I had
become weak and weary with the past night's traverse of The Desert, and
the painful vigils afterwards. Descending from the mound to the level of
the plain, I looked back upon my bed and grave, as if loth to leave it.
As soon as there was light enough to see objects somewhat distinctly, I
prayed to God for deliverance, and sallied forth with an unshrinking
mind. I was amazed at the illusions of The Desert, for it was now day;
the night might have its deceptions and phantasmagoria. Every tuft of
grass, every bush, every little mound of earth, shaped itself into a
camel, a man, a sheep, a something living and moving. Before the day was
hardly begun, I sprang over again to the base of the Rocky Palace, and
saw now the detached pieces which during the night I had ascended; but,
for the life of me, I could not find the place I visited first, and made
geological discoveries, never, never to be divulged. I continued to pace
up and down, north and south, for an hour, until weariness began anew to
attack me. I sighed and said to myself aloud, "So soon tired!" I now
returned to the plain and made another straight cut. Although the day was
pretty well developed I was staggered at the deceptions and phantasms of
The Desert. Every moment a camel loomed in sight, which was no camel.
There was also a hideous sameness! the reason, indeed, I was lost. For
there were no distinguishing marks, the mounds followed shrubs, the
shrubs mounds, then a little plain, then sand, then again the mounds and
shrubs, plain and sand, and always the same--an eternal sameness! Now
falling into the track of a caravan, I was determined to pursue it, but
it was with great difficulty I could follow out the traces. For at long
intervals the hard ground received no impressions of men or camels' feet,
and I repeatedly lost the track, going a hundred or more yards before I
could get into it again, I continued north, I saw the camels' feet, the
sheep's feet, and the prints of the camel-drivers, and sometimes I
thought I saw my own foot-marks. But the slaves! Where were the
impressions of the naked feet of some fifty slaves? Now I groaned with
the anguish of disappointment. I must abandon the track in despair. I had
already pursued it painfully over sand and rock, and pebbles, and shrubs,
and every sort of Desert ground.
All this was fast wasting away my little remaining strength. I now
mounted two very high mounds. Nothing lived or moved but myself in the
unbroken silence, the undisturbed solitude! I observed my being too far
north, I must return south. Another camel appeared. Yes, it was a small
black bush, on the top of a little hillock, shaping itself into a camel.
Now a marvel--life I was sure I saw. Two beautiful antelopes, light as
air, bounded by me with amazing agility, and were lost in a moment
amongst the shrubs and mounds of the desert plain. I fell to musing on
natural history, and accounted for these gazelles by the presence of the
well. I then recollected the Targhee hunter. For an instant I forgot my
situation. But where was I? What was I doing? Was I to return to Ghat,
or perish in The Desert? My strength was failing me fast. I could not
pursue for ever this wild chase at the base of the rock of the Jenoun.
Under their baleful influence, I shall wander and wander till I drop and
perish! I must make up my mind. The sun was not yet high up. I could walk
till noon on the journey back, and then sleep a few hours and rest. The
chill of the morning had taken away my thirst. I wrapped a handkerchief
over my month, and took all the precaution I could against the
approaching thirst at noon-day. The lance was heavy. Shall I throw it
away? Could it not afford me a moment's protection in meeting a single
bandit, which class of men mostly go alone? I keep my lance, but
determine to sit down to rest, previous to departing for Ghat. I had
often noticed the Arabs make a straight cut of route by raising up the
right arm, and putting under it the left hand to support it, and then
waving up and down the right and left arms together. After my short rest,
I mimicked them. Mimickry is instinctive in us. I singled out for myself
a distant hill on the plain, lying south in the route by which we had
come here. Now then, I took the first step towards Ghat. I continued an
hour, but oh! how weary I had become. Nature seemed ready to sink, and I
dropped suddenly on the side of a small sand-mound....... What shall I
do?..... Shall I shed tears to relieve me?..... No, I have long given up
shedding tears. And, now! I must keep up at the peril of my life. My
heart renews its courage. I again get up and begin to walk, limping
along. The small hill was before me--but should I ever reach even
that?..... My strength of body was now gone, though the mind would not
yield...... In the last moment of human extremity ...... death
itself ..... comes deliverance! I continue my route to Ghat. I have just
strength to raise my lance from the sand it pierces. I turn an instant
round to the right hand, and a white figure passes by...... What is that?
A friend or an enemy? I continue on. Is this one of our people, or of
strangers? Shall I take him for a guide? Before I can think of it, I espy
something in advance. But I fear an illusion, another deception. No! it
is the head of a camel! I spring on with my little remaining staggering
strength. To my joy unspeakable, I find myself upon my own camel--my own
little encampment! But what a strange, a ludicrous scene! Here is poor
Said skulking by the supper of the previous night, still placed on the
fire, but which is gone out, his hands covering his face, and his head
hanging down, his eyes swollen with tears but staring on the sand. The
camel looks restless about, and moans. I cry out--"Said!" He starts up as
if from a death-trance. He bellows out--"Aye wah," and begins to sob
aloud. The slaves, close by, hear the noise and rush upon us. Where are
the people? I see only slaves. They are all gone towards The Rock in
pursuit of me. I now lie down and they bring me something to drink[96]. I
begin with a little cold tea, and then eat a few dates. Afterwards, we
got the supper cooked the previous night heated. About a quarter of an
hour elapsed, when some of the party returned, and then the rest from the
pursuit. They had gone as soon as it was light this morning. Last night
some of them had been after me, and traced my steps, wandering over the
sand, round and round, till they were nearly lost themselves, and got
back to the encampment with difficulty. As soon as I recovered a little
rest, our people came up to me and began to joke and laugh. "Ten
dollars," said one, "you must give us for the trouble we have had in
seeking for you." Another said, "Lay down, Yâkob, sleep, we will wait
till noon before we start, to enable you to rest." It was now 9, A.M. But
the greater number of our party seemed confused, not knowing what to
think or say. In my absence, the general impression was that I had been
killed by the demons. Some, more sober, thought I might have fallen into
the hands of the Touaricks. Now they said: "You were very foolish, you
ought not, as a Christian, to have presumed to go to the Palace of the
Demons, without a Mussulman, who could have the meanwhile prayed to God
to preserve you, and likewise himself. The demons it is who have made you
wander all night through The Desert." The Medina Shereef, who was of our
party, boldly asserted, "The palace is full of gold and diamonds. The
Genii guard it. No wonder then they were offended with your going, and
struck you as a madman so that you could not return." Others asked me
what I saw, but would not believe me when I told them I saw nothing. So
it came to pass, that I nearly lost my life for the sake of confirming
them more strongly than ever in their superstitions. I, who was to have
taught them the folly of their fears by practical and demonstrable
defiance of the Genii confirmed and sealed the power of the Genii over
this Desert. But I must observe, my companions of travel did not adopt
the right method of rescuing me from the malignant influence of the
Genii. If they had sent a man in each direction from the camp, I should
soon have been found. All going in one direction to The Mountain, the
other routes were entirely unexplored. If ever I travel The Desert again,
I shall provide myself with a pocket-compass, and something still better,
a small tin or other box, of sufficient size to hold about a quarter of a
pound of crushed dates, or other concentrated food, and a small bottle of
spirits and water. The compass to be always in my pocket, and the box
always tied round my neck night and day. In the case now narrated, with
this little stock of provisions I could have got safe back to Ghat, and
waited and rested on the road. As it happened, there was every
probability I should have perished, if I had not found the encampment. I
continued for a full hour to drink ghusub-water and tea, with a few
dates. Then I ate more solid food, and took coffee. My mind now
rebounded, and the joy of deliverance seemed as if it would
counterbalance the dreadful anxieties of the past night. What a pure
pleasure I now tasted a few moments! In a freak, I sat down and sketched
The Demons' Palace, laughing defiance upon it all the while, with the
wayward self-will and harmless spite of a child, I took this vengeance on
the unlucky Black Rock.
Now all was passed, I fancied I had merely experienced a distempered
dream and ugly vision of The Desert. But when I rose to mount my camel, I
found it had been no vision--I was obliged to be lifted upon my camel.
Little did I think during the last (to me ever memorable) night, while
chasing wearily about the dreary Desert, my own countrymen had before
visited the same identical Demons' Rock. I had heard, indeed, some of the
people say it had been "written by Christians."
[Illustration]
Let us turn now to Dr. Oudney, and hear what he says about The Rock. On
an excursion westward, from Mourzuk to Ghat, they arrived near Ludinat,
in the valley of Serdalas or Sardalis. At a small conical hill called
Boukra, or "father of the foot," the people of the caravans amused
themselves by hopping over it; he who does it best is considered least
exhausted by the journey. Near this are a few hills, among which a
serpent, as large as a camel, is said to reside. "The Targhee is
superstitious and credulous in the extreme: every hill and cave has
something fabulous connected with it."
Of the nature of the mountains hereabouts, the Doctor says, "We entered
(after leaving Serdalas) a narrow pass, with lofty rugged hills on each
side; some were peaked. The black colour of almost all, with white
streaks, gave them a sombre appearance. The external surface of this
sandstone soon acquires a shining black, like basalt; so much so, that I
have several times been deceived, till I took up the specimen. The white
part is from a shining white aluminous schistus, that separates into
minute flakes like snow. The ground had in many places the appearance of
being covered with snow."
They now got on the plain of the Kesar Jenoun. The hills of Tradart or
Wareerat (apparently the same word, but sometimes called Taseely) now
appeared on the east, and the high sands on the west. "The Tradart (or
Taseely) range," says Oudney, "has a most singular appearance; there is
more of the picturesque in this than in any hills we have ever seen. Let
any one imagine ruinous cathedrals and castles; these we had in every
position, and of every form. (I myself often thought of Windsor Castle,
and the many hoary-headed old castles of England.) It will not be
astonishing that an ignorant and superstitious people should associate
these with something supernatural. That is the fact; some particular
demon inhabits each. The cause of the appearance is the geological
structure. In the distance there is a hill more picturesque and higher
than the others, called Gassur Janoun, or Devil's Castle. Between it and
the range there is a pass[97] through which our course lies. Hateetah
dreads this hill, and has told me many strange stories of wonderful
sights having been seen; these he firmly believes, and is struck with
horror, when we tell him we will visit it."
Our countrymen kept the range of Wareerat the whole day, and were amazed
with the great variety of forms. And when Clapperton thought he perceived
the smell of smoke the previous night, Hateetah immediately said it was
from the Devil's House. Another smaller rock is called the Chest, under
which a large sum of money is said to have been deposited by an ancient
people who were giants of extraordinary stature. The present race of
Touaricks are, indeed, giants compared to some of our pigmy European
nations. Oudney made an excursion to Janoun, the Kesar Jenoun. He says,
"Our servant Abdullah accompanied me. He kept at a respectable distance
behind. When near the hill, he said, in a pitiful tone, 'There is no road
up.' I told him we would endeavour to find one. The ascent was
exceedingly difficult, and so strewed with stones, that we were only able
to ascend one of the eminences; there we halted, and found it would be
impossible to go higher, as beyond where we were was a precipice." It
would appear the Doctor ascended one of the detached blocks, which I
ascended last night to observe the fires of the encampment. Hateetah got
alarmed at the departure of Oudney, and Clapperton was not able to allay
his fears: he was only soothed when the Doctor returned. The Sheikh was
astonished, as much as our people, when the Doctor said he had "seen
nothing." How like things happen! Even at the distance of twenty long
years, between my visit and the Doctor's, it seems as if I was narrating
one story. The Doctor was also mainly incited by the same feeling as
myself, to observe the geological structure. He observes, "The
geological structure is the same as the range (Wareerat) that is near."
To-day, after twenty years, and without knowing what the Doctor had
written, when I made the same observation to our people, and tried to
persuade Haj Ibrahim, the most intelligent of my companions, that there
was nothing in this huge block different from the mountain range near it,
being of the same stone and consistence, he replied drily, looking at
both formations, "Yâkob, it's not true. You see on the Kesar Jenoun the
very stones which the Demons have built up like the Castle at Tripoli.
When you will be blind, how can you see? Why not believe in our Genii?"
This leads me to notice the Mahometan belief in Demons or Genii.
According to the best commentators, the term جنّ "_Jinn_"
signifies a rational and invisible being, whether angel or devil, or
the intermediate species called "genius" or "demon." As the word
Genii is used in the passage of the Koran, "Yet they have set up the
Genii as partners with God, although he created them," (Surat VI.)
some believe it refers to "the angels whom the Pagan Arabs
worshipped, and others the devils, either because they became their
servants, by adoring idols at their instigation, or else because,
according to the Magian system, they looked upon the devil as a sort
of creator, making him the author and principal of all evil, and God
the author of good only." We all know what a share the Genii have in
working the wonderful machinery of the Arabian Nights Tales. The
Touaricks give them still greater powers, and make them a sort of
delegated or deputy creators, according to the Magian system, but
do not attribute to them the malevolent passions of an evil being.
They are probably influenced by the Koran in this, which in the
Surat, entitled "The Genii" (lxxii.) makes a portion of them to have
been converted by hearing the reading of the Koran: "Say, it hath
been revealed unto me, that a company of Genii heard me reading the
Koran, and said, Verily we have heard an admirable discourse, which
directeth into the right institution; wherefore we believe therein,
and we will by no means associate any other with our Lord." The
ancient Pagan Arabians also believed that the Genii haunted desert
places, and they frequently retired, under cover of the evening's
shade, to commune with these familiars of The Desert.
It is, perhaps, worth while to compare this Desert Pandemonium, which the
imagination of the Touaricks has built up amongst their native hills,
aided by the light of the Koran, with what the creative mind of Milton
has constructed by the aid of the learning of his times, and our own
Scriptures. The difference is as striking as contrast can present. But
yet there are some wonderful affinities, showing that mind is one and the
same amongst barbarian or civilized nations. Blackness and darkness enter
into the situation of both pandemoniums. The Desert Pandemonium has its
pillars and turrets, its frieze, bas-reliefs, and cornices of ornamental
architecture, though all done by the hand of "geological structure,"--its
dark colours shining with "a glossy scurf." The Desert Pandemonium is
also alive with myriads of spirits, peopling its subterranean vaults. The
Desert Pandemonium has finally its riches, its jewels, and its
treasures, such as Mammon, "the least-erected spirit," discovered and
"led them on" to, in the deeps of hell. We may now transcribe the
description of Milton's Pandemonium, the great ingredient of contrast
being light and splendour amidst the "darkness visible" of the regions of
perdition.
"Anon, out of the earth a fabric huge
Rose like an exhalation, with the sound
Of dulcet symphonies, and voices sweet,
Built like a temple, where pilasters round
Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid
With golden architrave; nor did there want
Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven;
The roof was fretted gold."
* * * * *
"The ascending pile
Stood fix'd her stately height; and straight the doors
Opening their brazen folds, discover, wide
Within, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth
And level pavement; from the arched roof
Pendant by subtle magic, many a row
Of starry lamps and blazing crezzets, fed
With naphtha and asphaltus, yielded light
As from a sky."
_7th._--From the Kesar Jenoun, and indeed before arriving there, the
valley assumed the form of a boundless plain, widening during the whole
of our march to-day. We had still on our right, the chain of Wareerat,
and, on our left, but scarcely visible, the low ridge of sand hills. We
frequently find this sort of Desert geological phenomena; a range of
rocky hills or mountains has a parallel range of sand hills, and the
intermediate space is a broad valley or vast plain. In traversing this
valley-plain, covered now with coarse herbage, now sand, now mounds of
earth, now pebbles, now quite bare, our progress was precisely like that
of a ship sailing near the shore, with bluff rocks and headlands jutting
and stretching into the sea. So were we on our Desert ships (the camels)
coasting slowly but surely along; whilst the mountains and their varied
magic shapes continually mocked our weary efforts, and our strained
vision; now appearing near, then distant, again near, again distant, and
ever changing their wild, fantastic forms. I thought we passed the tree
under which I made my grave-bed of the past night, but here were many
mounds and many dark lethel-trees crowning the many mounds. The detached
rocks I did see, and recognized fully my error, but which I had
conjectured, in wandering so far northwards. Our people observed justly,
"Yâkob, we all went to find you, for we wished all equally to bear the
responsibility. If you had been lost, who knows but what we should have
been all blamed for having put you away, or left you behind?" This is,
perhaps, but too true a conjecture. These poor people would have,
perhaps, not only been blamed for my death, but accused of it. I was glad
for their sakes, as well as my own, that I escaped from a Desert death.
The story of the visiting the Palace of Demons would have been told, of
course, variously by so many different people. How could they tell the
story in the same way! These varieties of evidence would have been
considered unsatisfactory, if not conclusive against them, whilst some
people, suspicious of the Moors, would have believed the whole was a
"cunningly-devised" trumped-up invention. The deaths of Park and Laing
may have been unjustly charged upon the Africans in this way. How, and
for what they died, is now altogether beyond our investigation. Even the
more recent death or assassination of Davidson is a mystery of The
Desert. We encamped close by a little stunted herbage, on which the
camels scantily fed. Weary with the previous night's adventure,
immediately on being lifted off the camel, I fell down fast asleep upon
the ground. Our course to-day due north.
_8th._--Did not rise until the sun was wheeling his daily course high up
the heavens. Felt better, and walked a little in the morning. No symptoms
of fever from the former night's exposure. In general the open Desert is
perfectly salubrious. It is in the oases, mostly situated in the valleys,
where the fever is generated. The Demon Temple still in view, with all
its mysterious hideousness, crowned with its grisly towers. It now stands
out in all its defiant isolation; the sand hills which broke upon its
view, running north and south, are now seen far beyond. It is its
detached condition from the neighbouring chain of Wareerat, with which
its geological structure is indissolubly connected, that has given this
huge pile its supernatural reputation. The Demons' Rock is apparently a
huge square, having four faces, and requiring a day to make the tour of
its rugged and jutting basements. Its highest turret-peaks may be some
six or seven hundred feet. The wady now has disappeared,--all is an
immeasurable expanse of plain, and bare as barrenness and barren wastes
can be. I observed a peculiar mirage to-day--lakes of still black shining
water.
A part of our caravan, and not the least interesting, are six Soudan
sheep, which belong to Haj Ibrahim. Their species is well known, but I
must mention what an agile and strong animal is the Aheer and Housa
sheep, being brought from both countries. This Soudan sheep is the best
walker in the whole caravan, and the last which feels fatigue or drops
from exhaustion. He browses herbage as the camel on the way, nibbling all
the choicest herbs, and sometimes strays at a great distance from the
caravan. He has had forty days' training from Aheer, and, as a slave
said, "He's a better pedestrian than the mahry." He is an attacking
animal, not scrupling even to attack the hand which feeds him with a
little barley. He is so formidable to the sheep of the Barbary Coast,
that I have seen a whole flock scamper away at the simple sight of him.
He is tall, his legs long, and his limbs generally better proportioned
than the common sheep. As he requires no wool to shelter him from cold in
the sultry regions of Central Africa, Providence has only given him a
coat of hair; and his tail is like that of the common dog. The head
offers nothing remarkable, but his look is bold, and his heart
courageous. He butts fiercely at all strangers, and he is the only lord
of freedom whilst marching over The Desert. In the companionship of these
sheep over The Desert, they acquire a strong affection for one another,
and I saw at Ghat two separated from a flock with great difficulty, the
whole flock pursuing savagely the man who had taken away from them two of
their _compagnons de voyage_. In going over Desert they require little
attention, and will go without water for half a dozen days together.
When, however, we come to a well, they are the first that will be served,
neither sticks nor blows will keep them off. We have also, as travelling
companions, ten or twelve parrots of the common blue-grey Soudan breed.
This parrot has a white broad rim round the eye; its body is a light
greyish-blue, legs, beak, and claws black, under-tail feathers white and
upper scarlet. Each two or three of the parrots have a little round house
to themselves, about eight inches in diameter, made of skins, and pierced
with holes to let in the air and light, besides a door. Their quarrels
are frequent, for quarrelling seems an essential part of the nature of
all animals, the rational and irrational, and they often fight
desperately, and are obliged to be separated. They are carried on the
heads of the slaves, being, as these poor people, the purchased luxuries
of the rich. The parrots are allowed to have an airing and a walk morning
and evening. They all talk in good grammatical Negro language, and can
occasionally aid our researches in Nigritian tongues. Parrots are brought
from as far as Noufee.
The wood in the valley we just left, is the Lethel. Its leaves are
powdered over with a white saline substance, indeed, why not salt itself?
Some of these trees are very large, having very thick trunks and boughs,
perhaps forty feet high, and ten feet round the thickest trunks, which
wood, when palm-wood is scarce, is used instead for building. On the
plain, however, the Tholh[98] began to appear. This tree is found, as
noticed before, in the most desolate places of The Desolate Sahara. It is
sometimes very large for trees here, perhaps thirty feet high, and six or
seven of width round its broadest trunks. The camels browse on it
always, and when hungry crop with avidity a great quantity of the
prickles and thorns, and thorny leaves. It is a mystery to me how the
camel can chew such thorns in its delicate mouth. The Koran mentions the
tholh (Surat lvi.), as one of the trees of Paradise, which Sale has
translated Mauz, "the trees of mauz loaded regularly with their produce
from top to bottom." But tholh here seems to refer to a very tall and
thorny tree, which bears an abundance of beautiful flowers of an
agreeable odour, one of the many species of acacia, and not the ordinary
gum-arabic tree.
Near sun-set we left the plain, and I took an everlasting farewell of the
Temple of Genii. Poor inanimate Rock! which should so much bewilder man's
crazy brain, and fill the desert travellers with such strange fancies. We
turned to the north-west into a gorge of the chain of Wareerat. In this
gorge, besides the usual black sandstone, with glossy basaltic forms,
were large deposits of chalk, one of which our route intersected, on the
top of the ridge, where also the action of water was extremely well
marked. The action of water remains a long time visible in The Great
Desert, perhaps twelve, twenty, nay, fifty years, during which several
periods, even in the driest regions of The Sahara, there is sure to be a
heavy drenching rain,--an overflowing, overwhelming mass of water falls
on the desert lands. The districts of Ghat remained some eight or ten
years without an abundant rain, till this last winter, when it came in
most overpowering showers[99]. The action of rain on the earthy bosom of
The Desert is very much like that of the action of the sea on its shores,
which has led to the remark, that The Sahara looks as if it been "washed
over" by the ocean. The mounds of earth so frequently met with in The
Desert are formed by water in the time of great rains. In this gorge were
big blocks of stone, on which were carved Touarghee characters. It was
fortunate I knew the characters, for the people wished to persuade me
they were those of very ancient people, and of Christians, whilst none of
the party could read them. They are probably the names of shepherd and
Touarghee camel-drivers, wandering through Desert. Some of the letters
have a very broad square Hebrew or Ethiopic look about them. The gorge
was steep, narrow, and intricate in the first part of its ascent. We then
descended and encamped between the links of the chains, which form so
many valleys, some broad and deep. It was a good while after sun-set,
when we brought up for the night, and we had come a very long day. All
were greatly fatigued, especially the poor slave girls.
_9th._--Rose early, and started early. The feet-marks of the aoudad wore
observed on the sand. Course through the gorge north-east. After a couple
of hours we cleared the gorge, entering upon a broad open plain or
valley. Here I observed the chain of Wareerat was rounded off on the
eastern side, and of considerably less altitude, whilst the peaks of the
opposite or western side were steep and escarpé, owing apparently to the
action of the water in the wady.
Continuing our course on the plain for an hour or two, we arrived at
the oasis of Serdalas, a handful of cultivation, but very fair and
of vigorous growth. The valley or plain of Serdalas, which is also
called Ludinat, and the site of a Marabet, is an extensive
undulating plain, bounded east and west by two ranges of mountains,
stretching north and south. Near the spot of our encampment are
wells of excellent water, seven or eight of them, and the largest is
a thermal spring, which is about the centre of the oasis. It is
banked up, or rather issues from a rocky eminence, where large lumps
of bog iron may be picked up. Formerly this spring was fortified,
the high walls built around its mouth still remaining, and there are
besides the brick ruins of a castle close by. Tradition relates that
the oasis was formerly colonized by Christians, and others say, by
Jews. It may, indeed, have been colonized previously to the arrival
of the Arabs in Africa by the ancient Berbers, or Numidians, but the
castle itself is of Moorish modern construction. The present
miserable population does not exceed ten persons, Fezzaneers and one
or two Touaricks, who cultivate a little wheat and ghusub. The
houses are huts of sticks, date-leaves, and dried grass. Near the
great spring is a large tree, with prickly thorny leaves, not unlike
the tholh. It is called _Ahatas_, اهتس, and was brought from
Soudan, where its species grows to an enormous magnitude. Its wood
makes excellent bowls, spoons, and several useful domestic
utensils. This tree measures at least twelve feet round its trunk;
its principal branch is prostrate, bent beneath the burden of many a
Saharan summer's heat and winter's cold. From the old paralyzed arm,
however, shoot up young green branches, offering a pleasant shade to
the weary and thirsty wayfarer in these wilds. Under this tree money
is buried to a great amount, but the writings, pointing out the
particular spot, were destroyed by a son of the Marabout, whose tomb
consecrates this desert spot. Several small birds are hopping about,
like those seen in Ghat, with white heads and white under tails, the
rest black. This seems a _bonâ fide_ feathered tenant of Sahara.
We remain here to-day and to-morrow. It is, perhaps, for the better, for
we are all knocked up. By preserving the body we preserve the mind. Our
party consists of four merchants, the rest being servants and slaves. My
friend Haj Ibrahim is the principal one. We have the Medina Shereef, who
is in charge of a male and two female slaves, the property of the
Governor of Ghat. He continues his route from Tripoli to Mecca, and
expects to be absent two years on his pilgrimage. The Shereef makes great
pretensions to learning and sanctity, and I believe he is clever, if not
learned; he says to me, "My business is study and prayer." He asked me
about Khanouhen, his father-in-law, and the presents which I made the
prince, and said, "Khanouhen sent back his presents to you, and would not
accept them." I told him I commuted the goods into silver; at which he
laughed and remarked, "Ah! Khanouhen is deeper than the devil himself."
He considers Jabour's protection omnipotent in the route of Timbuctoo,
but says the Touaricks only, and not caravans, can protect European
travellers: I think the Shereef is right. Another of our merchants is a
very civil Ghadamsee, and acts as a sort of broker for Haj Ibrahim. He is
very civil and good-natured, but, nevertheless, keeps mostly in his hand
a little nasty whip, with which he lays it into the unlucky slaves. The
last of the four is a queer dwarfish Touatee, from Aïn Salah, who is
carrying a few little bags of gold to Tripoli, perhaps a dozen ounces. At
the instigation of the Shereef, who likes a laugh, I keep roasting him on
the way, telling him, "You have got so much gold about you that we are
sure to be attacked by banditti before we arrive safely at Tripoli." This
makes him very savage, and sometimes he calls me a kafer. Haj Omer is the
great factotum of Haj Ibrahim, an Arab of Tripoli, and a most hardy
hard-working fellow. Omer has two camels which are hired by his master.
One of these foaled a little before we left Ghat, and he carried the
young camel the half of a day's journey on his back. Omer never rides,
walks all day long, pitches the tents, looks after the camels, looks
after the slaves, and from morning to night is on his legs. So these
people can work when it is necessary; indeed, I am sure, with a good
government, and an equitable system of trade, the Moors and Arabs of
North Africa would be as industrious and persevering as any other people.
It is now afternoon, and very hot. The weather has been sultry the four
days of our route. But our faces are nearly always north, and a slight
fresh breeze blows from either N., N.E., or N.W. every day, a most
grateful relief. It is, however, cold at nights, and very cold in the
morning after the heat has been absorbed during the night. The negresses
are busy either pounding ghusub, or washing themselves, or making the
toilet and arranging their sable persons in showy trinkets. Certainly
woman in the negro races is a remarkable creature. She bears her bondage
and its hardships with consummate fortitude, and the greatest good humour
and gaiety, never quarrelling or sulking with her master, and only now
and then having a little bickering of jealousy or rivalry with her fellow
slave. Two or three slaves only, for the present, are unable to keep up,
and placed on the backs of camels. I am astonished to see how well they
keep up, what fatigue they are capable of bearing; I should myself die of
exhaustion were I placed in their situation. There is a little boy only
four or five years of age, who walks as well as any of them. He refused
my offer to give him a ride, and answered, "I don't wish to ride. I
walked all the way from my native country to Ghat." Should this little
creature continue to walk his way to Tripoli, by the time he arrives in
that city he will have walked over eighty-five days of Desert, besides
the distance he may have walked before reaching Aheer, perhaps some
additional thirty days.
Another of Haj Ibrahim's camels foaled to-day. The foal is stretched upon
the ground as if lifeless, the mother standing over and staring at it.
But the foal will not remain so long, for to-morrow or next day it will
be up on its legs, and after four, five, or six days, it will be able to
run after its dam. In fact, the foal, now five days' old, runs after its
mother part of the day's march, and after two or three more days it will
be able to continue a whole day's journey. Here is an instance of the
immense superiority of the lower animal over the higher animal man. It is
curious that the cry of the foal is very much like a child, and I once
turned round to see a negress child crying, and found it was a
camel-foal. In marching the foal is tied upon the back of its mother, and
so borne along, the dam grumbling regular choruses to the cry of the
foal. (_Later an hour._) The foal is actually upon its legs, about four
hours after its birth, and it has sucked its mother twice. The mother
does not quarrel so much about her child as the first she-camel. Such is
the varying dispositions of brutes. A foal is worth ten dollars when a
year old. Most she-camels have a foal every other year, but some few
every year. The foal remains a whole year with its mother. None of these
camels give milk, because there is not sufficient herbage in our way. In
cases of extremity, when the herbage is scarce and the camels give little
milk, the Touaricks of Ghat will drive their camels to graze as far as
Aheer, or even to Soudan. Milk is an essential portion of their means of
existence. The reader must not be surprised to find so frequent a mention
of the Camel-Ship of The Desert. In the Koran the camel is thus
introduced, "Do not they consider the camels, how they are created?"
(Surat Lxxxviii.) and very properly, as a wonderful instance of the
creative might of Deity. These animals are of such use, or rather
necessity, in The East and in The Desert, that the creation of a species
so wonderfully adapted to these countries, is a very apposite and proper
instance to an Arabian and African, or even an European (travelling
here), of the power and wisdom of the Creator. Like the reindeer, and the
lichen, or moss, on which it feeds in the polar regions, the camel and
the date-palms in the Great Desert furnish striking and remarkable
examples of the inseparable connexion of certain animals and plants with
human society and the propagation of our common species. Providence, or
nature, for it is the same, has so formed the faithful, patient and
enduring camel, as to create in this animal a link of social and
commercial intercourse amongst widely-scattered and otherwise apparently
unapproachable nations. The she-camel which I am riding through these
solitary wastes never fails me, except from sheer exhaustion, the
enduring creature never giving in whilst nature sustains her! In the most
arid, herbless, plantless, treeless, thirsty wastes, she finds her
loved-home, for The Desert is the natural sphere of life and action for
the camel. The Desert was made for the Camel, and the Camel was made for
The Desert.
_10th._--Did not sleep very well, and felt very cold during the night.
But as soon as the sun is up it is hot. Such is The Desert. It is also
cold in the shade, and hot in the sun. When riding, a hot wind burns the
one cheek, and a cold wind blanches the other cheek[100]. You wander
through these extremes like the spirits of the nethermost regions,--
"And feel by turns the bitter change
Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce:
From beds of raging fire, to starve in ice--
Thence hurried back to fire."
I usually am obliged to wear my cloak out of the sun, besides a woollen
burnouse.
Visited the marabet, or mausoleum, of Sidi Bou Salah, about two hundred
paces from the large spring. My Fezzanee guide told me the daughter of
the buried Marabout was still living in the oasis, but his sons were
residing in Fezzan. When the corn was reaped, late in the spring, he
himself should return to Fezzan. One or two persons would remain here.
The tomb of the Marabout is enclosed within the usual square little
house, having a dome or cupola roof, but it is not clean whitewashed, as
these sanctuaries generally are on the Coast. On the tomb is a coverlet
of particoloured and showy silks. The room of the mausoleum is snug and
clean. A little lamp is kept burning at the head during the night. This
is a sort of perpetual fire. There are two or three outhouses, or rooms,
adjoining, in which, if anything be deposited, it is quite safe, it is
sacred, no robbers in these wild countries being bold enough to commit
such a sacrilege against the God of the Islamites. The entire oasis is
peculiarly protected by the halo of the awful Marabout here buried. It is
a place of perfect security for all travellers. In this way the sentiment
of religion confers its advantages, whatever may be the creed of its
professors. No doubt the sentiment of religion, as connected with
superstition, inflicts upon mankind intolerable evils; but here, at any
rate, is some compensation.
I surveyed again the great thermal spring. The water issues from a rocky
ferruginous soil of iron ore, giving the water a mineral taste. Yet it is
of the best quality. Apparently the water descends from the neighbouring
mountain chains, and collects here, but its flow or stream is perennial.
From this little eminence I had a panoramic view of the country, and was
gratefully affected with the beautiful situation of the oasis. In the
hands of Europeans, a city would be created here, one of the largest of
The Great Desert, for water abounds on every side. This oasis would
become the centre of a dense population, fed from the products of the
soil. A mart of commerce would concentrate a great Saharan traffic,
ramifying through every part of Africa. But what can be expected from
people whose one predominant and _quasi_-religious idea teaches them that
everything should remain as it is; as it was before so shall it be
hereafter. People nevertheless pretend that political causes keep the
oasis in its present miserable condition. Serdalas belongs to the
Touaricks, who let it out to the Fezzaneers, but will not permit them to
plant date-palms, lest the oasis should flourish and rival Ghat, and so
injure that mart of commerce. Be it as it may, man always fails of his
work, and if he does so in the more genial climes of Europe, what can
come of his idleness and his improvidence in The Vast African Desert?
Desolate as The Sahara may be in its essential character, it is rendered
still more so by the neglect of its heedless and dreamy tenants. Many are
the oases in this neglected, abandoned state. And the saddening,
sickening thought often recurs to me, that, however desolate The Sahara
may have been in past ages, it is now getting worse instead of better.
Ghadames, and many oases of Fezzan, are dwindling away to nothing, the
population lessening, and dispersing under the curse of the Turkish
system!
Fezzan is only reckoned five days from Serdalas, good travelling, but,
with a caravan of slaves, it will occupy us six or seven days. How fond
of lying are the Moors, or, shall we say, boasting? The Shereef, I hear
from my other companions, is not going on a pilgrimage to Mecca, as he
boasted to me. He merely goes to Tripoli on a trip to sell his three
slaves for the Governor, his uncle, and purchase a little merchandise in
return.
Had a visit from the daughter of the Marabout, the wild Sybil of The
Desert. She is an Arab lady of some seventy or more years of age, but,
like most ladies, does not know how old she is. At first sight of her, I
"Gaz'd on her sun-burnt face with silent awe,
Her tatter'd mantle,
Her moving lips,--
"Whose dark eyes flash'd, through locks
of blackest shade."
The Pythoness asked me how I liked her country, a hundred times, and then
begged for something in the name of Allah. She kept saying, "What have
you got for the daughter of the great Marabout?" "What have you got for
her who dedicates her life to God?" She was very proud of the
distinction, _Bent-El-Marabout_ ("daughter of the Marabout"). And why
should she not be proud? When all comes to all, the Saharan lady is as
good as a Roman Nepote of the Pope. She continued, "What have you got for
the daughter of the great Marabout?" And, indeed, I had got very little.
I then gave her a little looking-glass, the only one I had. But this is
no privation in The Desert, however necessary elsewhere. The
looking-glass exceedingly delighted the sybil, for in it she saw the
stern features of her face, with her dauntless eye. She then got
familiar. She wondered why I was not married, and how I could go to
sleep without a wife. She prayed me to take one from Fezzan, or buy a
negress of the caravan, telling the people, "The Christian is very good,
but very foolish. The Christian has plenty of money, and does not buy a
wife." I told her it was prohibited to buy slaves. And as to a wife, I
could not carry her about in The Desert. To which she at length, after
much persuasion, consented to agree. The daughter of the Marabout showed
no hostility against me as a Christian, although of such pure blood, and
in which the antagonism of the eastern to the western spirit is supposed
to be stronger. She gave me her blessing, and we parted friends. The only
piece of dress of any kind which the Maraboutess wore was a thick, dark,
woollen frock, with short sleeves. She had no ornaments; her hair was
black, mixed with grey, long, and dishevelled about her neck and
shoulders. An air of the Pythoness overshadows the countenance and
carriage of this Desert priestess. Amongst the people she is a holy
being. She lives alone. She has the power of foretelling future events.
She receives small presents from all the ghafalahs which visit the oasis,
as tithes of the Marabout shrine. She never leaves this Desert spot. Her
person was ever inviolable. It is related that, many years ago, an Arab
once attempted to surprise her in the night, and share a part of her bed,
but was immediately struck dead before he could stretch out his hand to
open the door of her grass-built hut. So The Desert has its incorruptible
vestals. But the conversation which her ladyship had with me was all
pro-matrimonial, and would not have suggested to the stranger that she
was an ancient maiden of inviolate chastity. Perhaps she might have
thought this sort of conversation would please me best. The Maraboutess,
as well as the few Fezzaneers in Serdalas, are of short stature, of a
very dark-brown complexion, approaching nearly to black, and some have
the broad distended nostrils of the negro. The Shereef said to me this
afternoon, "I'm going to pray at the Marabout shrine; I go happily, I
return happily." Our Shereef is a little self-righteous.
Evening, died a young female slave. She had been ill a month. She was of
the most delicate frame, and cost seventy dollars as a great beauty. She
was buried in the grave-yard of the Marabet without any ceremonies. Happy
creature to have so died. They first tried to dig a grave in open desert,
but not succeeding, they carried her to the burial-ground of the Marabet.
_11th._--To-day is the fourteenth day of the month, and Wednesday instead
of Monday, by the reckoning of my fellow travellers. A fine morning, but
we all felt severe cold during the past night, and which nipped up the
poor slaves.
This morning visited Haj Ibrahim early, and seeing a young female very
ill I remarked: "You had better leave her with the daughter of the
Marabout." He replied, much agitated, "Oh, no, it's a she-devil."
Thinking she might be sulky, as Negroes often sulk, I made no other
observation. A few minutes after I heard the noise of whipping, and
turning round, to my great surprise, I saw the Haj beating her not very
mercifully. He had a whip of bull's hide with which he gave her several
lashes. This displeased me much, for I thought if the girl had sulked a
little she might have been cured without recourse to the whip, in her
debilitated state. About a quarter of an hour afterwards, or not so much,
I saw Haj Omer, servant of the Haj, going towards the graveyard, with a
small ax in his hand, and suspecting something had happened, I followed
to see what it was. On arriving at the Marabet, I asked,
"What are you going to do?"
"Dig a grave, only," was the reply.
"What," I continued, "are you going to dig the grave of the Negress whom
Haj Ibrahim was just now beating?"
"Yes," Omer returned, greatly ashamed.
I was not surprised at the answer, but a disagreeable chill came over me.
Omer then added apologetically, "They bring these poor creatures by
force, they steal them. They give them nothing to eat but hasheesh
(herbs). Her stomach is swollen. We couldn't cure her; Haj Ibrahim beat
her to cure her. She had diarrhœa." This requires no comment. I add only,
if Haj Ibrahim, who is a good master, can treat his slaves thus, what may
we not expect from others less humane? There is no doubt but that the
whipping of this poor creature hastened her death. She was, indeed,
whipped at the point of death. I stopped to see the lacerated slave
buried. She was some eleven years of age, and of frailest form. A grave
was dug for her about fifteen inches deep and ten wide. It is fortunate
there are no hyenas or chacalls to scratch up these bodies. They do "rest
in peace." Into this narrow crib of earth she was thrust down, resting on
her right side, with her head towards the south, and her face towards the
east, or towards Mecca. She had on a small chemise, and her head and
feet and loins were wrapped round with a frock of tattered black Soudan
cotton. Omer, before he put her in, felt her breast to see if she were
really dead. At first he seemed to doubt it, and fancied he felt her
heart beating, but at last he made up his mind that she was really dead.
I felt her hands. They were deathly cold. At times Moors bury people
warm, and not unfrequently alive. They are always in a desperate hurry to
get corpses under ground, thinking the soul cannot have any peace whilst
the body lies unburied. As the last service to the body, Omer took some
earth and stopped up her nostrils. This was done to prevent her reviving
should she be not really dead, and attempt to move. Unquestionably if
buried in the open desert, it is a service, for the wretch only revives
to die a more horrible death. Some small flag-stones were then laid over
the narrow cell, and these were covered with earth, in the form of a
common grave, being only a little narrower than our graves, as the body
is turned up on its side. The two poor young things lay side by side, the
one who died yesterday, and the one to-day, giving their liberated
spirits opportunity to return to the loved land of freedom, the wild
woods of the Niger. Happy beings were they;--better to die so in The
Desert, in the morning of their bondage, than live to minister to the
corrupt appetites of the unfeeling sensualist! Seeing others, free
people, with pieces of stone raised up at their heads, and wishing the
slave and the free to have equal rights in the grave, I fetched two
pieces of stone and placed them at their heads likewise. If it be
permitted to pray for the dead, God save, in mercy, these two youthful,
frail, but almost sinless souls!
DIRGE[101].
"O'er her toil-wither'd limbs sickly languors were shed,
And the dark mists of death on her eyelids were spread;
Before her last sufferings how glad did she bend,
For the strong arm of death was the arm of a friend.
"Against the hot breezes hard struggled her breast,
Slow, slow beat her heart, as she hastened to rest;
No more shall sharp anguish her faint bosom rend,
For the strong arm of death was the arm of a friend.
"No more shall she sink in the deep scorching air,
No more shall keen hunger her weak body tear;
No more on her limbs shall swift lashes descend,
For the strong arm of death was the arm of a friend.
"Ye ruffians! who tore her from all she held dear,
Who mock'd at her wailings and smil'd at her tear;
Now, now she'll escape, every suffering shall end,
For the strong arm of death was the arm of a friend."
I returned to the encampment and found the caravan in motion.
Burning hot to-day. I felt the heat as oppressive as in my journey
of August to Ghadames. Fortunately our faces were north-east, away
from the sun in its greatest power. No one can understand this
passage, καὶ ἡ ὄψις αὐτοῦ ὡς ὁ ἥλιος φαίνει ἐν τῇ δυνάμει αὐτοῦ,
(Rev. i. 16,) who has not travelled under the influence of the
Saharan sun. The rays dart down with a peculiar fierceness upon your
devoted head, depriving you of all your life-springs. As to its
splendour, the eye of the eagle turns away daunted from its
all-effulgent beams. Since leaving Ghat we have passed many graves
of the "bond and the free," who have died in open desert. Passed one
to-day, with Arabic characters carved on the stone raised at its
head. Passed by also several desert mosques, which are simply the
outline in small stones, of the ground-plan of Mahometan temples.
We have, in many instances, only the floor of the mosque marked out, or
rather the walls which inclose the floor. Within the outlines the stones
are nicely cleared away. Here the devout passers-by occasionally stop and
pray. The desert mosques are some of them of these shapes--
[Illustration]
The places projecting in squares or recesses are the kiblah, upon which
the Faithful prostrate themselves towards the east, or Mecca[102].
Our course is through an undulating country of hills and valleys. We made
a short day, for we began to fear we might lose many of the slaves. A
Touarghee caravan, going to Fezzan, overtook us _en route_, but soon
turned off to the north-west.
FOOTNOTES:
[96] I hope I offered up a heartfelt prayer of thankfulness to the
Almighty for my deliverance from perishing in The Desert.
[97] It is a very wide valley, nay an extensive plain. But the
Doctor writes about it before he arrives there.
[98] Tholh--الظلح--_Acacia gummifera_, (Willd.) It bears what
the Moors and Arabs call _Smug Elârab_ (صمغ العرب),
or "Gum Arabic." This is the most hardy tree of The Desert, and,
like the karub-trees of Malta, strikes its roots into the very stones.
[99] Dr. Oudney says, who was a man of science:--"Rain sometimes
falls in the valley (of Sherkee, Fezzan,) sufficient to overflow
the surface and form mountain torrents. But it has no regular
periods, five, eight, and nine years frequently intervening
between each time. Thus, no trust can be placed in the occurrence
of rain, and no application made in agricultural concerns." In
truth, the rain which falls in these uncertain intervals, seems to
answer no available purpose, unless to feed the wells and
under-currents of water.
[100] The blowing hot and cold with the same breath is here a
reality, or thereabouts.
[101] Adapted from an anonymous piece, called "_The Dying Negro_."
[102] "But we will cause thee to turn towards a _Kiblah_ that will
please thee. Turn, therefore, thy face towards the holy temple of
Mecca; and wherever ye be, turn your faces towards that
place."--_Surat_ ii.