CHAPTER II

BASIN IRRIGATION

There are two kinds of irrigation in Egypt—basin and perennial

irrigation. Basin irrigation is the ancient and historical method

of the country. Tradition ascribes its invention to the first King

of Egypt, and it is obviously designed to take full advantage of

the annual flood. Practically the same as it was 7,000 years ago,

it may be seen in Upper Egypt to-day.

The cultivable land from Assouan to the Delta is, with the exception

of the Fayoum, that altogether remarkable province, a narrow strip

of country, varying in breadth from a few miles to nothing at all,

sometimes on both sides of the river, sometimes only on one. Being

of deltaic formation, the land is highest near the river, and slopes

away towards the desert. As the river flows from south to north,

there is, of course, also a general slope of the country in the

same direction. Earthen dykes are run at right angles to the river

as far as the desert, a dyke parallel to the river and close to

its bank connects them, and so a basin is formed, enclosed on the

fourth side by the desert. Thus the land is arranged in a series of

terraces. Usually these basins are arranged in a series, one basin

draining into its neighbour, the last of the series discharging back

again into the Nile. Sometimes a second dyke, parallel to the river,

divides the lower land near the desert from the higher; sometimes

the arrangement is still further complicated by other dykes, making

enclosures within the area of the original basin.

The object of the basins is to regulate the supply of the

flood-water. Each series of basins has special feeder canals to

lead into them. These are shallow, and have their bed about halfway

between the high and low level of the Nile. They are therefore dry

in the winter and summer, and only run during the flood. The heads

of these canals, where they take off from the Nile, remain closed by

dams or by masonry regulators till the silt-bearing flood is coming

down in sufficient strength. Then about August 10 or 12 the canals

are opened and the basins filled. The lowest basins in each series

are filled first, then the next lowest, and so on. In a low flood,

as in 1877, there is not enough muddy water to go round, and the upper

basins get no water at all; such lands are called ‘sharaki,’ and

are exempt from taxation. For forty days the flood-water stands on

the land, thoroughly soaking it and washing it, and at the same time

depositing its fertilizing silt. At the end of that time, through the

escape at the lower end of the series, the water is discharged back

again into the Nile. But if the flood is a very high one or very slow

in abating, the date at which the water can be discharged and the

basins dried has to be postponed. Fortunately, this seldom happens;

but when it does it has a doubly bad effect. The oversoaking is said

to engender worms, and also the ripening of the crops is postponed

to an unfavourable season of the year.

Against this particular evil there is no remedy, but since the British

occupation a great deal has been done to improve the system of basin

irrigation, and prevent a large amount of sharaki even in years of

low Nile. These measures consist in arrangements for distributing the

‘red’ water more evenly over the whole system, and not allowing

the lower basins only to receive the full benefit, while the higher

merely receive ‘white’ water—_i.e._, water which has already

deposited its silt. Further, since any water is better than none,

the systems of basins have been so managed, where possible, that

the water from an upper system can be drained into a lower one,

and thus make up deficiencies, though with water of an inferior

quality. More attention has also been paid to the angle at which

the feeder canals take off from the Nile, and the slope on which

they are laid, so as to provide as much ‘red’ water as possible,

while diminishing the amount of silting up. The result of this work

is seen in the diminution of the sharaki lands year by year. In 1877

these amounted to nearly 1,000,000 acres, a loss of £1,000,000 in

land-tax. During the next ten years the average was 45,000 acres,

an annual loss of some £40,000. In 1888 the loss was £300,000,

and the Egyptian Government expended £800,000 in remedial works,

which have had an extraordinary effect. In 1899, when the Nile was

exceptionally low, the sharaki lands amounted to 264,000 acres only,

as against nearly 1,000,000 in 1877.

As for the high lands lying immediately between the river and the

basin dyke, only eight or nine times in a century does the Nile

rise high enough to flood them. They are called ‘berms,’ and

are ingeniously irrigated by means of special high-level canals,

which, starting from a point above the head of the basin system, or

perhaps leading down from an upper system, pass by means of a siphon

under the feeder canal. The berms are, of course, also irrigated by

lifting water directly from the Nile itself.

There are forty-five systems of basins in Upper Egypt, most of which,

and those the largest, are on the left bank. Some of the feeder

canals are insignificant, and feed only two or three basins. Others,

like the Sohagia Canal, south of Assiout, feed an extensive system,

and are real rivers when full. The basins themselves are 5,000 to

15,000 acres in extent, and it can easily be understood that when

they are taking in they have an enormous effect in diminishing

the pressure of the flood, and, on the other hand, their discharge

lengthens it out in the lower reaches of the river, when the level

has already fallen very much at Assouan. While the basins are filling

in August and September, they absorb about 2,000 cubic metres per

second. Besides this, a considerable amount is employed in filling the

channel of the Nile itself and its branches. Evaporation, absorption,

and direct irrigation, also play their part, and the result is that

the discharge of the Nile at Cairo is some 2,500 cubic metres less

than it is at Assouan. But during October and November the basins

are discharging. The southernmost ones are empty by October 15,

those in the neighbourhood of Cairo not till about November 30, or

even later. The consequence is that the Nile at Cairo in October

is discharging 900 cubic metres per second more than at Assouan,

and in November 500 more.

In November, therefore, the visitor to Cairo can still get some idea

of what Upper Egypt is like in flood-time. From desert to desert

it stretches, one vast lake, divided by a network of dykes, and

studded here and there with villages raised on artificial mounds,

which year by year rise higher on their own ruins. A greater flood

than usual makes terrible havoc in these villages; for the rising

water soon crumbles their mud walls, and the whole collapses like a

pack of cards. Every mortal thing is living on the dykes, which play

the part of roads; only the water-fowl, emerging in thousands from

their secluded marshes, spread themselves in security over the wide

waters, and here and there an isolated villager may be seen in an

ancient palm-wood tub, paddling and baling by turns. The dykes run

on the same lines as they have run for centuries, and on them the

traveller, on his way to visit the Pyramids of Gizeh or the Tombs

of the Kings at Sakkarah, the burial-ground of ancient Memphis, may

watch the whole life of Egypt pass and repass in long procession, set

as in a frieze. Work in the fields, of course, is at a standstill,

but the villages are humming with preparation for the sowing,

and alive with flocks of goats and sheep, camels, buffaloes, and

asses; even the rats have been forced to the same refuge, and may

be seen popping in and out among the roots of the palm-trees.[4]

Where one basin drains into another the fisherman spreads his net,

and reaps a rich harvest in the rush of the current. At intervals are

stationed pickets of grave watchers, squatting patiently alongside

large bundles of millet or maize stalks. This is all that remains

of the corvée service, and gladly is it borne.

For every villager is interested in the preservation of the dykes,

and apart from ordinary accidents this great lake, owing to the

swift changes of temperature in the neighbouring desert, is liable

to violent storms, which drive great waves against the crumbling

dykes, and would soon break them if left alone. The millet stalks

are put down to break the force of the waves. Each village omdeh, or

headman, is responsible for these arrangements, and he, too, may be

met upon the dykes, a picturesque figure in flowing black and white,

mounted on an ambling Arab pony, going round to see that all his

sentinels are on duty. How near the past is brought, when you enter

the tombs and find painted on the walls, or figured out in stone,

the same people engaged in the same pursuits, as though Egypt had

not been since then for thousands of centuries coveted and seized

in turn by so many invading nations! The cultivator of the soil,

moulded by the unchanging and imperious demands of the great river,

to which he owes his whole subsistence, has retained the customs,

and even the features, of those remote forerunners, who are his

ancestors in everything, except, perhaps, by descent of blood.

Under the Pharaohs and under the Romans the whole of Lower as well

as Upper Egypt was under basin irrigation, and the whole country was

cultivated. In those days Egypt was the granary of the Mediterranean,

and at the time of the Arab conquest, A.D. 700, her population was

estimated to number 12,000,000. Under Arab rule began that period

of deterioration which lasted for 1,100 years, and which, had the

system of irrigation been less natural to the physical conditions

of the country and less simple, would have resulted in an absolute

abandonment of cultivation, and reduced Egypt to the state in which

Mesopotamia, once the garden of the world, finds itself to-day. Even

as it was, by A.D. 1800 the population was brought down to about

2,000,000, and all the northernmost and greater half of the Delta

had become a neglected and uncultivated swamp. War, famine, and

pestilence, in turn, had played their part; but the fundamental cause

of all was the misgovernment, which had neglected the irrigation. For

in basin irrigation, as, indeed, with all irrigation, two things are

of the utmost importance: the first, to get the water on to the land;

and the second, to drain it off again. Salt is the great enemy to be

fought. Not only do the Nile waters contain a large quantity of salts,

in solution, but the strata underlying the alluvial deposits, being

of marine origin, are also rich in salts. If the water is allowed

to stand on the land, evaporation takes place, until nothing but

a salt efflorescence is left. While if the land be so water-logged

that the level at which water can be obtained by digging is brought

near to the surface, the water containing salts from below is drawn

upwards by means of capillary attraction, and once more evaporation

takes place, leaving the salts in the soil. It is clear that as

the natural level of the land approaches sea-level it becomes more

and more troublesome to provide proper means of carrying off the

water. Accordingly, the northernmost parts of the Delta were the

first to suffer, and gradually the line of cultivation receded.

Nor was this all. No one looking at a map of the Delta can fail

to have been struck by that extraordinary feature of the northern

coast-line, the great lakes. At the present time there are in the

Delta about 3,430,000 acres of land cultivated or under reclamation,

and another 500,000 acres of waste land. North of these lie 1,180,000

acres, either permanently covered by the lakes or else flooded

by them from September to December. Between the lakes and the sea

is a belt of sand-dunes or sandy plains, pierced occasionally by

openings. The sand-dunes are constantly being augmented by the

prevailing north-west winds. These lakes or lagoons are for the

most part extremely salt, and are distributed as follows, beginning

from the west: Lake Mareotis, 70,000 acres; Edku, 60,000 acres;

Borillos, 180,000 acres, and as much more during flood and early

winter; and Lake Menzalah on the east, largest of all, 490,000 acres,

and flooding 200,000 acres more at the same time of year. All these

waste lands, now known as the Berea, were cultivated in Roman times,

some being occupied by vineyards, others by wheat, and it would seem

that the lakes were kept from extending landwards by dykes. But

when the land was allowed to go out of cultivation no one had any

interest in looking after the regulation of the lakes. First, the

passage through the sand-dunes became silted up, because, as the

basins decreased in number, less water was drained from them into the

lakes at the time of the inundation. Then, after the closing of the

openings, the water gradually rose, breached the neglected dykes,

and completed the ruin of the land. Once the openings in the dunes

are closed, the lake has to rise to a considerable height before it

can force its way through again, owing to the continuous action of the

sand driven by the wind. In this way it came to pass that neither of

the lakes had more than one opening into the sea, and consequently,

rising in flood-time above sea-level, invaded the lands to the south.

Another cause may have possibly contributed to the same

effect—namely, a sinking of the coast lands. Nowhere is this a more

probable explanation of the facts than in the neighbourhood of Lake

Manzalah. Before the Arab conquest much of what is now a shallow lake

was famous for its gardens, palm-groves, vineyards, and wheat-fields;

besides its agricultural villages, it contained towns famous for

their cloth and cutlery manufactures, like Tunah, Damirah, Dabik,

and, above all, Tinnis. But at the time of the conquest these towns

were already islands in the lake, a position which enabled them to

be the last stronghold of Coptic resistance to the Moslems.

Whatever the cause or the combination of causes—and the history

of these tracts remains very obscure—the results were the retreat

southwards of the cultivated area, with the consequence that, after

over 1,000 years of Mohammedan rule, Egypt found herself in the

weakened and impoverished condition already described; saved only

from annihilation by the system of basin irrigation, of which the

traditions survived, though in a diminished area, stubbornly preserved

from age to age by her industrious and conservative peasantry.

The binding of the Nile and the new Soudan · 第 2 / 15 章