ON leaving the hill we took a road that led us towards the north. We
first rounded the western end of the scarp of the detached plateau
parallel to which we had marched on coming from Bu Gerara, and,
about two hours after our start, ascended a steepish bank on to the
top of the plateau, which here was only about fifty feet high.
From the summit of a small hill close by, a huge cliff stretching to
the north and south, as far as it was possible to see, was visible,
far off in the east; this was evidently the eastern boundary of the
Farafra depression, and, as I afterwards discovered, the continuation
of the cliff to the north of Bu Gerara.
The scarp was too far for me to be able to see any details of its
surface, with the light behind it, and as the top of it showed as
only a straight line, there were no points on it to which I could
take a bearing.
In these circumstances it was impossible either to fix its position
or to estimate the direction in which it ran. I several times met
with this difficulty, but found that, when a cliff faced towards
the south, it was only necessary for me to wait till the sun came
round far enough to begin to light up its surface, and then a rough
estimate of the direction in which it ran could be obtained by
taking a bearing on to the sun itself. This dodge was especially
useful when it was necessary to map the continuation of a cliff,
part of which had already been surveyed and the remainder of it
could only be seen from one point, such as the top of a high hill.
The part of the Farafra depression in which we found ourselves was
an absolutely featureless plain, of hard level sand, that sloped
slightly towards the foot of the scarp on our east. Here and there
we came across patches of greenish clay, with white lines running
through it, showing above the surface of the sand.
The Persian King, Cambyses, during his occupation of Egypt, sent a
great army across the desert to destroy the oracle of Jupiter Ammon
in Siwa Oasis. The army never reached Siwa; but was lost in the
desert. Its last resting-place is unknown, but, according to native
reports, the whole host perished of thirst in this huge depression
in which the oasis of Farafra lies.
I happened to mention to Qwaytin the subject of singing sands, and
asked him if he had ever heard any. He told me that somewhere in the
north of the Farafra depression there was a rock that was supposed
to be the “church” of the spirits of the lost Persian army. It
was called the “infidel rock,” because it “sang on Sunday.”
It appeared to be some form of musical sands.
It was not until the third day after our start from the treasure
hill that we sighted in the west the field of dunes that occupies
the centre of the Farafra wady. They appeared to be almost white in
colour, and lay a long way off.
Qwaytin told me that we should reach the Kairowin _hattia_ on our
third day after leaving his hill. It will give some idea of his
utter incompetence as a guide when I say that we did not actually
get there until two days later.
He came into my tent on the first evening and began yarning in an
aimless sort of way, as he generally did as a preliminary to serious
business, and I endeavoured to extract some information from him
as to the topography of the Bedayat country, with which he was
well acquainted.
But he at once got impatient and changed the subject to that of his
confounded hill. He ended by asking—almost demanding—that we
should go back there to have another look at it, and to make certain
that there was not another hill in the neighbourhood which might be
the one indicated in his book. On my refusing to do so, he flounced
out of the tent—he was certainly a queer customer to deal with.
Whenever I spoke to him the next day he began gassing about his
wretched hill, and saying that he wanted to go back to it; but
towards evening he rather recovered himself, and when he came to
my tent I again threw out feelers about the country of the Bedayat,
though he declined to tell me anything about the district, he started
giving me a lot of information about the Bedayat themselves, which,
as they are an almost unknown race, proved extremely interesting.
They claim to be descended from an _afrit_, whom, for some crime,
either David or Solomon shut up in a box, till he grew to such an
enormous size that he burst it open. There still exists apparently
a mongrel Bedayat—Tibbu tribe, known as the M’Khiat er Rih,
that possess the miraculous power of being able to walk over sand
without leaving any tracks behind them—a most useful accomplishment
in the desert for a race of born freebooters. This peculiarity they
owe to the fact that wherever they go they are followed by a wind
that immediately obliterates their footprints!
On our fourth day after leaving the treasure hill, our road converged
towards the dunes lying on our west, and, as Qwaytin seemed to be
hopelessly lost, I climbed one of the biggest of them with him to
try and make out our position.
From the top, the east and west scarp, with a break in it leading
up to Baharia Oasis, that lies on the north of Farafra, could be
seen in the far distance, but no sign of the _hattia_ Kairowin was
visible. In front of us, however, was a high three-headed _sif_,
or longitudinal sand dune, that Qwaytin declared to be the landmark
for the _hattia_ from the south.
As we were getting very short of water, the news that the _hattia_ was
not in sight caused something like consternation among my men. They
all started grumbling at Qwaytin’s ignorance of the road, and
Ibrahim went so far as to ask him point-blank why he called himself
a guide, if he knew so little about the desert.
This coming from a young Sudani, hardly out of his ’teens, to an
elderly Arab guide, who, moreover, was a sheykh of his tribe, was
a great _ayb_, and Qwaytin was intensely put out. Qway, under the
circumstances, would have retaliated with some stinging remarks on
the inferiority of “slaves” and the respect that was due from
a boy to his elders and superiors in rank; but Qwaytin lacked his
ready powers of vituperation. He was a slow-witted old curmudgeon,
and failed entirely to put Ibrahim in his place. His own men stood
up for him in a feeble sort of way. But they were no match for
Ibrahim, and eventually gave up any attempt to defend their sheykh,
probably feeling themselves that there was not much to be said
in his defence. As I rather wanted to encourage a certain amount
of friction between my men and Qwaytin’s, I left them to settle
their differences as best they could, with the result that Qwaytin
and his men got much the worst of the wrangle.
Kairowin _hattia_ measures some eighteen miles from north to south,
by seven from east to west. It consists of a level scrub-covered area,
in which, here and there, are to be seen a few neglected-looking
palms. A number of wells have been sunk here at various times; one
on the extreme eastern edge of the _hattia_, where the road coming
from Assiut first enters the scrub, is known as Bir Murr. This
well, which I did not visit, is said to be sanded up. Another well
somewhere to the north, I believe, is known as Bir Abd el Qadr. There
are also several others, all of which seem to be impartially named
Bir Kairowin. Probably water can be found under all the lower lying
parts of the _hattia_ by digging for a few feet into the ground,
which throughout this district consists of chalk.
The wells in every case apparently give water so thick with chalk
particles that when first drawn from them it is almost as milky
as whitewash. Attempts to clear the water by passing it through a
Berkefeld filter failed, as the chalk clogged the filter after a
few strokes. But when it had been allowed to stand for a few hours,
most of the chalk settled down to the bottom, and the water that
was poured off passed quite easily through the filter, after which
it proved to be of quite good quality.
I, unfortunately, forgot to wind my watches the first night in the
_hattia_, and so allowed the half chronometer I had been using in
taking my observations to run down. As I was depending on it for
my longitudes, this necessitated a stay of two or three days in the
camp in order to ascertain its new rate after it had been rewound.
These watches are for some reason only made so as to run for one
day. As oversights of this kind must be of common occurrence with
travellers, it would seem to be preferable that they should be made so
as to run for two days, and be furnished with an up and down indicator
to show how long an interval has elapsed since they were last wound.
I spent a considerable part of the time while in the _hattia_ in
trying, without success, to get a shot at gazelle. There appeared
to be very few in the district, though a considerable number of old
tracks were to be seen where they had been feeding on the scrub.
This scarcity of game may perhaps have been due to the fact that
a few _bedawin_ were at that time living there in charge of some
camels belonging to the Senussi _zawia_ at Qasr Farafra. These men
kept away from the camp, but I saw them and their camels several
times wandering about in the scrub, and twice found small hovels
constructed of brushwood, in which they had been living—they had,
so far as I could see, no tents.
My men spent most of their time in grubbing about in some large
mounds. On the top of one of these, about thirty feet high, Ibrahim
found some burnt bricks. The whole mound was covered by a thick
growth of _terfa_ bushes, among which the sand had collected,
completely hiding any building there might have been beneath it.
It must have been originally a building of some size and of
considerable height, and was perhaps a tower. The men unearthed part
of a small room at the base of the mound. It had been well built, of
the same burnt bricks, and the interior was covered with plaster. A
few pieces of broken pottery were found, one of them covered with
a green glaze. There were four or five other mounds of a similar
nature in the neighbourhood; but we had neither time nor implements
thoroughly to examine them.
As the total result of their treasure hunt in Kairowin the men
only unearthed one corpse and a few bits of broken pottery, without
finding even a single copper coin to gratify their cupidity. They were
consequently considerably disillusioned with their occupation, and
I experienced no difficulty in getting them to start for Qasr Farafra.
I made first for the main well, that is known as the Bir Kairowin,
in order to close my traverse. The water lay about eight feet below
the surface; access being gained to it by the usual sloping path,
cut out of one of its sides. By the top of the well was a mud-built
trough for watering camels, with an empty paraffin tin lying beside
it for use as a bucket.
Immediately on leaving the _hattia_ we got into the dunes, which
cover a large area in the centre of the Farafra depression. The first
two or three dunes gave a little difficulty, but we found the rest
of them quite easy to cross. They were all, so far as I could see,
of a very elongated whalebacked type, which ran roughly from north
to south, in the direction of the prevailing wind.
Qasr Farafra lay almost due west from our camp. Soon after we got
into the sand it became clear that Qwaytin was again hopelessly lost,
as I found we were marching almost due south. I was obliged to put
it to my guide, as inoffensively as I could, that if he would change
the direction in which he was leading us by a mere right angle, we
might perhaps reach our destination, instead of going on to Dakhla
Oasis as we seemed to be doing. Qwaytin was so hopelessly lost that
he accepted my suggestion without the slightest argument.
Soon after this we got out of the sand on to level desert, where a
large number of black nodules of iron pyrites were to be seen lying on
the surface. Further on some fine specimens of sand erosion were met
with in the shape of chalk “mushrooms” and table rocks. Otherwise
this part of the desert was quite featureless. The road lay entirely
over white chalk, which caused a rather trying glare in the blazing
sunlight.
We sighted Qasr Farafra on the evening of the second day after
leaving Kairowin _hattia_; but as night fell before we could reach it,
we camped a few miles away from the village. Two hours’ march on
the following morning brought us into the oasis. On the outskirts
we passed a patch of ground on which the sand was encroaching,
some palms lying on the north of it being almost entirely submerged.
We camped on the northern side of the village. A large crowd of
natives came out and stood watching us while the tent was being
pitched. Among them was a sulky-looking fellow whom I was told was
the _’omda_; so, as soon as the tent was pitched, I invited him
and some of the other men standing by to come in.
We had foolishly camped too close to the village, with the result
that throughout the greater part of the day the camp was surrounded
by a crowd of men and children watching all our actions, peering
into the tent, thronging round the theodolite, when I began to take
observations, and generally showing an ill-mannerly curiosity that was
in great contrast to the conduct of the natives of the other oases in
which we stayed. Farafra being the least known of the Egyptian oases,
the advent of a European was an event of such rare occurrence that
the natives had evidently decided to make the most of it.
The natives of Farafra Oasis, who are known as the Farfaroni, or
sometimes as the Farafaroni, are a far more vigorous lot than those
of Kharga and Dakhla. They were a surly unpleasant-looking crowd.
The day after our arrival, I went out with the _’omda_ and Qwaytin
to see the village and plantations. With the exception of an _ezba_ at
’Ain Sheykh Murzuk, where there are a few houses, a Senussi _zawia_
and a family or two continuously resident to tend the cultivation
near the well, Qasr Farafra is the only permanently inhabited spot
in the whole Farafra depression. It is a poor little place with a
total population of about five hundred and fifty inhabitants. The
houses are of the usual mud-built type, and in most cases little
better than huts; almost the only exception being that of a square
tower, showing in places the remains of battlements, attributed,
perhaps rightly, by the natives to the Romans, who are said to have
erected it as a keep to protect the village.
This proved to be rather an interesting place. It is not inhabited,
but the door is kept locked with a watchman perpetually on guard
over it. The building is used solely as a storehouse, each family
in the village having the right to the use of one of the rooms that
it contains—there were said to be no less than one hundred and
twenty-five chambers in the building.
The _’omda_ showed us over the tower. The entrance lay through a
strong wooden door, at the top of a flight of steps, in a passage
entered in the middle of one of the outer walls, the walls on either
side of which were pierced with apertures, apparently intended for
use as loop-holes. The passage extended the whole height of the
building and was unroofed, in order that stones might be dropped
from above on to any assailant attempting to attack the door.
[Illustration: BOY WITH CROSS-BOW, FARAFRA.]
The interior of the tower was a perfect labyrinth of breakneck
stairways and little rooms opening out of narrow dark passages. After
scrambling up several sets of steps and repeatedly banging my head
in the dark against the low roof, we at length emerged into a sort
of courtyard at the top, surrounded by two tiers of small chambers,
each provided with its own locked door. Some further scrambling
landed us on the roof that covered the rooms and formed a kind of
platform surrounding the courtyard. From here a wide view could be
obtained over the oasis and depression.
There was not much of consequence to be seen. Below lay the village,
looking, when viewed from above, even more squalid than from
below. Scattered round it, within a radius of a few miles, lay a
number of small patches of cultivation, showing the positions of the
various wells and springs. Seven or eight miles away to the west was
a cliff of considerable height, forming the scarpment of the Guss
Abu Said—an isolated plateau beyond which, though invisible from
the tower, lay a well, “Bir Labayat,” and the little oases of
Iddaila and Nesla, in another large depression, the dimensions of
which were unknown. Here and there on the floor of the depression
a few isolated hills stood up to break the level monotony, the most
conspicuous amongst them being Jebel Gunna el Bahari, about fifteen
miles to the north-east. Otherwise the view over the depression was
singularly monotonous. The only other noticeable features being the
cliffs in the far distance to the north and east that marked the
limits of the higher plateau.
On descending from the tower the _’omda_ took me round the
village. Except for its poverty-stricken appearance, it differed
little from those in Dakhla and Kharga Oases. There seemed to be few
houses with a second storey, and the palm leaf hedges, that usually
topped the wall surrounding the flat roofs in the other oases,
were seldom visible.
Having completed our survey of the village, the _’omda_ took us
to his house. It was a very poor residence for a man of his position
in the village, and was overrun with fowls, goats and filthy little
children, mostly suffering from ringworm. He gave us some dates and
very bad tea, but no cigarettes were produced, probably because, like
most of the inhabitants of the place, he “followed the Sheykh.”
In the afternoon I went with Abd er Rahman and the _’omda_ to see
the winch of a boring machine that had been given to the _zawia_
by a wealthy Egyptian in Cairo, in order that they could sink a
new well. They wanted my opinion on it, as two of the cog wheels
had been broken and the work of sinking the well had had to stop in
consequence. It was obvious that there was nothing to be done, except
to replace the wheels. I took measurements of the broken parts and
promised to have duplicates of them made in Cairo, when I got back,
and to have them sent to the oasis.
I was engaged in noting down their dimensions, when Abd er Rahman
informed me that the Senussi sheykhs from the _zawia_ were coming,
and I caught sight of two men, with Qwaytin in their train, stalking
along in my direction.
The _zawia_ was run by three sheykhs who were brothers, the eldest
was, however, at that time away in Cairo. The other two were not
a prepossessing-looking couple. Sheykh Ibn ed Dris, the elder, was
a fine-looking Arab, and would have been even handsome if his face
had not been marred by its dour, truculent expression. His youngest
brother, Sheykh Mohammed, was apparently hardly out of his ’teens,
and seemed to be somewhat of a cipher, being completely swamped by
the aggressive personality of the elder sheykh. The only impression
he made was one of extreme sulkiness. Qwaytin told me that they had
come to take me for a walk round the plantations that surrounded the
village, adding that as I was a stranger in the oasis they felt that
they ought to entertain me.
They did not seem to relish the job very much. Sheykh Ibn ed Dris
was extremely taciturn, and his brother never opened his mouth during
the whole of our tour of inspection.
Compared with the other Egyptian oases, the plantations in Farafra
contained comparatively few palms and a much larger proportion of
other fruit trees—olives, vines, apricots, white mulberries,
figs, pomegranates, limes, sweet lemons, a few orange trees and
a small apple, which, being regarded as a rarity, was very highly
prized. Formerly there used to be a considerable export of olive
oil to the Nile Valley, but for some reason, perhaps because the
trees were getting too old, the crop was said to have diminished
considerably, and barely to suffice for the wants of the oasis.
The fields surrounding the plantations were planted so far as I saw
only with wheat, barley and onions, but durra and rice are also said
to be grown in the oasis. The areas under cultivation seemed small,
but the plants all looked healthy, and even luxuriant. I saw no
patches of salty ground, such as were often to be seen in Dakhla.
[Illustration: A BRIDE AND HER POTTERY.
A bride from the poorer classes can only contribute a small amount
of earthenware towards furnishing her new home. In her wedding
procession she carries this on a chair on her head. Note the sequins
on the front of her dress. (p. 253).]
Farafra is such a small place that administratively it is under
Baharia, the nearest oasis, lying about three days’ journey away to
the north-east. In the whole oasis of Farafra there are only about
twenty wells, the two most important ones were said to be ’Ain
Ebsay, lying four to five miles to the south of the village, which
I did not visit, and ’Ain el Belad (the town well), both of which
were said to be of Roman origin and to resemble those of Dakhla Oasis.
Some of the wells are said to be connected with long underground
infiltration channels cut horizontally, at some depth below the
surface, similar to those at ’Ain Um Debadib, but I had no
opportunity of examining any of these. The ’Ain el Belad, that
supplies the village, flowed into a large pool covered with green
weed and to some extent surrounded by palm groves, that in the glow
of the setting sun made a most lovely picture.
We ended our promenade at the door of Sheykh Ibn ed Dris’ house
in the _zawia_. It was a gloomy mud-built building, without a
trace of the European furniture that characterised the _zawia_
and houses of the Mawhub family in Dakhla. Here I took leave of my
unpleasant companions, much, I fancy, to our mutual relief. As the
sheykhs had to a slight extent thawed during our walk, I asked Ibn
ed Dris to let me photograph him, to which, rather to my surprise,
he grudgingly consented. He did not make a pretty picture. He was
wearing his normal expression, a scowl that “never came off,”
and nothing that I said would induce him to look pleasant.
Supplies of all kinds were very scarce in the oasis. No fruit or
vegetables were procurable, and the only eatables to be bought were
fowls, eggs and onions. Owing to nearly the whole of the inhabitants
being members of the Senussia, tobacco was also very difficult to
obtain, as the members of the sect are forbidden to smoke. The men
had all run out of cigarettes, and were much upset at not being able
to renew their supplies.
The morning after my walk with the sheykhs, Ibrahim, who was always
keen on any kind of sport, told me that quail were beginning to arrive
in the oasis, so I went out with him to try and shoot some. I only,
however, saw two—one of which I succeeded in missing twice.
The natives of Qasr Farafra were so unfriendly that I was unable
to see as much of the place as I should have wished, and I was only
able to take a very few photos.
The next morning we packed up and set out to Bu Mungar. After an
uneventful journey of about eight hours to the south-west, over
a featureless level desert, we reached the little oasis of ’Ain
Sheykh Murzuk—the only permanently inhabited spot, besides Qasr
Farafra, in the whole depression.
Three or four men came to meet us as we approached the plantation,
and greeted Qwaytin with enthusiasm. The oasis was a very small one,
extending to only a few acres. The cultivation consisted of only
a few palms and fruit trees and a field or two of grain. Among the
palms were hidden two or three houses, which I, however, inspected
only from a distance. One of them, I was told, was a Senussi _zawia_.