Loading a camel — Water vessels — My camels — My caravan —
Nomads of the Sahara — Vegetation of the desert — Country of
the Kountahs — Line of wells — Rainfall — My tent — Gazelle
— Fowls of the desert — A trying march — Ill-used animals
— How to mount a camel — Moroseness of the camel — Vagaries
of the camel — An unpleasant feature — Uncomfortable riding.
THE preparations to be made for a journey across the Sahara are
many, as I soon found out at Gao. It was not merely a question
of arranging for the hire of camels and the services of a guide,
but various other points wanted careful attention.
To start with, the baggage had to be made up in loads suitable
for camel transport, and, naturally, on a pack animal a far more
accurate adjustment of weights is necessary than is the case
with carriers. Besides, I found that cases of provisions, my tin
travelling bath, and even my camp table (Uganda pattern), were the
reverse of being comfortable loads on the desert camel, although
they had been very compact for transport on porters’ heads. All
these things had to be either left behind or put into leathern bags,
called “mesoued.” A bag is quite the easiest form of baggage for
a camel to carry. Two of these can be slung over the pack-saddle,
and the weights easily adjusted by taking something out of the
heavier and adding it to the lighter one. No ropes are necessary
to tie a “mesoued” on to the saddle, while boxes and such-like
loads have to be strapped round with cords, and tied on to hooks
on the pack-saddle. These ropes, however strong, break sooner or
later, with the result that your cases fall with a crash to the
ground and the contents are probably scattered in all directions.
As this was my first experience of the desert I had to learn all
these little points, but, fortunately for me, my French friends
helped me with much practical advice, making my task much easier. I
had to retain some of my cases, however, as sufficient bags were
not forthcoming, and I rather unwisely decided to retain my bath.
Although water would be scarce on the way, I could not help thinking
that the luxury of a bath when I did arrive at a well would be too
great to forego!
I replenished my stock of rice so as to have sufficient to ration
my servant and guide, and at the same time I carefully overhauled
my tinned provisions. My supply of the latter was decidedly low,
but there were no means of increasing it now; besides, I had made
up my mind to live on the simplest fare, such as farinaceous food,
in order not to augment unduly the number of camels in my caravan
by having too many loads. I had, however, to arrange for sufficient
rations to last till my arrival at Insalah, in about seven weeks’
time. I was informed that at the oasis of Insalah I should be able
to reprovision myself for the remainder of the desert journey.
Another most important item for consideration was the means
for carrying water. Big glass demijohns are impracticable in the
desert. They make the water hot, and are extremely likely to break,
should a camel drop its load, or even if the beast should knock up
against one of his fellows, in his usual clumsy manner. The French
use two kinds of water-carriers. The one mostly used, and invariably
used by the nomads of the desert, is a leather water-skin, called
“guerba,” which is generally porous, and therefore leaks to a
certain extent, but keeps the water cool, and is easily slung on
a camel’s back.
The other kind is an iron or aluminium cylindrical vessel, which
can be locked if necessary, and cannot break. The water therein
contained gets very hot, but is never wasted as in a “guerba.”
I was obliged to take “guerbas,” as no metal carriers were
available. And I provided myself with eight of these.
In connection with the subject of water, which is, indeed, the
vital item in desert marches, I had to arrange to have some means
of drawing water from a well. This is a more serious problem than
may be thought, for wells in the Sahara are often seventy yards
or more deep. In one case I recollect there was a well over 330
feet deep! To draw water from such a depth a long rope of hide
is required, at the end of which is attached a leather bucket,
called “délou.” Spare material of all kinds must be carried,
as a caravan must be absolutely self-contained from start to finish,
and any omissions in calculating requisite stores are likely to be
heavily paid for in the desert.
All gear has to be thoroughly tested as to its strength and
durability before embarking on a journey, and this is a matter to
be attended to personally, for a native cannot be trusted.
Of course, two most important items are the camels and the guide. My
animals belonged to the Kountah Arabs, who wander in that part of
the Sahara north of Gao, while the guide was also a Kountah Arab,
named Sidi Mahomed. I had a second guide for the journey as far as
Kidal, a Tuareg, from the Ifora country, through which I should pass.
The camels were rather a sorry-looking lot of animals, whose
aspect was not reassuring to a person about to start on a long
desert march, but the Kountah chief, from whom I hired them,
vouched for their ability to take me and my belongings safely to
Kidal. I had no intention of keeping these camels or the guides
beyond Kidal, but would hire a fresh caravan there. The Commandant
kindly helped in this matter by sending a camel-runner in advance
to the officer commanding the post at Kidal, to prepare camels
and a guide for me. These camel-couriers travel much faster than
a caravan. We calculated to take twelve days over the journey,
whereas he would accomplish it in five or six. The courier’s
mount is a fast-trotting camel, which at a pinch can cover about
fifty miles a day.
[Illustration: THE DEPARTURE FROM GAO
The loads are being adjusted before my caravan starts on its long
trek across the Sahara. All baggage has to be securely bound with
rope to the pack-saddle, as the camel has a playful way of ridding
himself of a load by shaking his unwieldy frame, by kicking violently
with his grotesque hind-legs, or by rubbing the offending package
vigorously against a neighbour’s flanks until he succeeds in
dislodging it.]
On the 23rd of April all was ready, and I decided to start that
afternoon, so as to avoid marching in the day when it was hot. As
I gazed for the last time at the broad, calm bosom of the Niger,
flowing gently by the walls of Gao on its way to the sea, I could not
help feeling rather serious, and wondering when I should again see
running water, if, indeed, ever. Before me was the unknown mystery
of the great Sahara Desert, and in it I was to pass many long and
weary days before I should arrive in a country watered by running
streams. How often should I not long for a glimpse of the cool,
rippling river I was now looking on for the last time! For days I
must be content with the sight of a well, if I was to see any water
at all; and, at the time, I hardly realized how welcome the sight of
that well would be. About 4 p.m., as the sun was losing its power,
having bidden adieu to my good hosts at Gao, I prepared to start.
All the Europeans at the station were assembled to see me
off. I fully believe most of them thought I should never reach my
destination. I promised the Commandant to write to him as soon as I
reached Insalah to announce my safe arrival so far. There were many
cameras raised to get a snapshot of my party before their departure,
and then we were off.
My escort consisted of one non-commissioned officer and six
soldiers, all natives, belonging to the Senegalese Tirailleurs. I
had one riding-camel for myself and four baggage camels, one of the
latter being lightly laden, and carrying my servant for a portion
of the day’s march. The remaining camels, numbering eighteen,
were carrying Government stores for Kidal. I waited behind to allow
the string of camels to file off in front of me before mounting my
own animal, and following in their wake.
I intended to march till sunset that evening, and then halt for a
few hours’ rest until the moon got up. As soon as the moon rose
I would start again, and march till eight or nine the following
morning. I was anxious to march as little as possible during the
day because of the intense heat. Besides, most of the tirailleurs
were on foot, and night marching would be less fatiguing for them.
The predominant question of water also had to be thought of, as a
man wants to drink less if halted in the heat than if he is marching
at that time.
The southern portion of the Sahara about Gao is desert in the
sense of being a deserted land, that is to say a land without any
fixed inhabitants. There are comparatively few parts of the Sahara
which are absolutely deserted by mankind, for almost the whole
of this lonely region has a population of nomads. These nomads,
it is true, are very few in numbers, and rarely stay in one spot
for any length of time. Their movements are dictated by two things.
Firstly, the state of the pasturage in the locality where they are
is an all-important factor. Nomads of the desert must of necessity
be mounted on camels, chiefly, if not entirely, for they are the
only animals adapted to an existence which entails long periods
without water. But camels, like other animals, must feed fairly
regularly, although they can live some time without drinking, hence
the necessity for these nomads to have pasturage for their beasts.
The nomad then remains in a certain locality in the desert for as
long as there is food for his camels; he then moves on to a fresh
spot with suitable feeding for his camels. To a large extent the
proximity and quality of the water in the nearest wells are of
minor importance to the question of a good pasturage. The desert
nomad has perforce to be a hardy creature or he would very soon die
of starvation or thirst. His wants in the way of food are small and
easily satisfied, while he trains himself to exist, like his camel,
on little water. To a large extent he suits his life and movements
to the welfare of his beast.
Now, although the southern portion of the Central Sahara is a
deserted country, the greater part of the section inhabited by the
Kountah Arabs and the Ouilli-miden Tuaregs, viz. from the latitude
of Bourem to the latitude of Zinder, is comparatively fertile in a
certain kind of vegetation. This vegetation is of a peculiar kind,
but includes the mimosa shrub and cram-cram grass, besides other
things the camel likes to feed on. There is comparatively little
space with no vegetation of some kind growing upon it. Water is
scarce everywhere, and is only found in wells, but it is rare that
one has to march more than sixty miles without passing a well.
For the first nine days my route lay through the country of the
Kountahs. We seldom met any people, however. Occasionally, at a
well, one would come across a few men drawing water, which they
would load up on camels, or sometimes on donkeys, and thus transport
it to their encampment, which was probably some miles distant, and
generally far away from the possible tracks of a passing caravan. I
suppose the mere fact of a man electing to pass his life in the
Sahara is a sufficient indication that, for some reason or other,
he wishes to shun other mortals as much as possible. His motive may
be a criminal one, or merely the desire for a hermit existence;
whichever it is, in the case of these people, there is no doubt
that they have a decided reluctance to coming into contact with
strangers, unless for purposes of loot!
The route I had taken was not the shortest one to Kidal. My quickest
way would have been through Kerchouel, a well almost due north
of Gao, and to the east of my direction, but the guide said that
this line of wells via Kerchouel was in a bad state. According to
him several of the wells were dry, or had so little water as to be
insufficient for even our small caravan. I afterwards discovered
that the man was lying, and, for private reasons, did not wish to
go by Kerchouel, for the wells there were no drier than were those
on our route. It so happened that this particular year had been a
drier one than usual, and all the wells were in a lower condition
than usual for the time of year.
In this portion of the Sahara there is a periodical rainfall,
which, of course, accounts for the vegetation being less poor than
elsewhere. The rainfall consists of some three or four tornadoes,
averaging possibly one or two inches in the year. These tornadoes
come between the months of July and September, and it is due to
them that the wells fill up. Sometimes a well, or line of wells in
an “oued,” fill up when there is apparently no rain that year,
but this is to be attributed to the fact that rain has fallen in some
far-off locality—possibly at a distance of a hundred miles—and,
by some curious subterranean system, there is a connection between
the spot where the rain has fallen and the particular “oued”
in which the wells are situated. The whole question of where the
water originates which fills up certain wells in the Sahara is
a complicated and interesting one. Until all the desert has been
thoroughly surveyed it will be difficult to do more than guess at
the solution of some of these problems.
One article of baggage which I had brought, and which I thought
would be of the greatest value in the Sahara, was my tent. When
halting during the middle of the day the heat was intense. Shade
was scarce, for the mimosas, the nearest approach to trees, were at
the best stunted shrubs, affording little shade. My tent, however,
consisting as it did of a single fly, seemed to retain the heat to a
great extent, although, of course, it afforded some welcome shade. I
found the hours from 11 a.m. till 3 p.m. most trying. It was so hot
that it was difficult to work, yet it was much too hot to sleep. I
always welcomed the hour for the evening departure. Marching was
certainly cooler than halting, and often it was less tiring.
[Illustration: A TUAREG HERD, IN OUZEL
The last signs of life before entering the waterless desert of
Tanezrouft.]
I usually rode for the first two hours, and about sunset dismounted
to rest my camel and to stretch my legs. If it was a moonlight night
I used to walk for several hours, but on a dark night walking was
not so pleasant. The country about here was usually open, and it
was possible to march, even on a moonless night, without fear of
the camels coming to grief.
It was a strange place this desert, and gave me a queer, eerie
feeling. On all sides a death-like stillness prevailed; for hours,
and sometimes for days, we would walk without seeing a single soul.
For miles there would be no signs of animal life, then suddenly
a herd of gazelle would come into view, feeding on the desert,
scrubby grass, and at the sight of the caravan away they would
scamper, frightened at the unwonted sight of man.
In this part of the Sahara there were a fair number of Loder’s
gazelle. This creature can live without water, and its habitat is
always a desert country. It obtains a certain amount of moisture
from the sap in certain plants and grasses, which appears to amply
suffice for the little animal. The gazelle is a very pale, creamy
buff colour, almost white under the belly, and stands twenty-eight
inches high. It is extremely graceful, like most gazelle, and
almost invariably starts its flight, when disturbed, by a series
of big bounds, wherewith to gain impetus. I generally saw about
six in a herd, but sometimes I have known them to include as many
as twenty. The venison formed an excellent change from ordinary
diet, and was, of course, the only chance of getting fresh meat
in the desert. The nomads, whom we occasionally met near a well,
had flocks of goats and sheep, but would not sell their animals
for untold quantities of “guinée.”
Quite in the southernmost parts of the Sahara, within thirty or
forty miles of the Niger, I saw a few greater bustard, and at times,
when near a well, I have even seen guinea-fowl several days’
march from the river. As there was no running water for them to
drink at, I can only conclude that these birds used to go down the
wells to drink. In the same way I saw ringdoves near wells once or
twice, far in the interior of the Sahara, and have often watched
them emerging from the well after having drunk. These doves, too,
appear to be of a far lighter colour than the ordinary grey dove
of West Africa and the Niger. The hue is a very pale slaty grey,
so pale as to be almost white. In this connection it is strange to
note how pale is the colour of every Saharan animal, for it seems to
conform to the usual law of nature in assimilating its colouring to
its surroundings, so that it is frequently very difficult to detect
an animal against the white Saharan sand. The soil is, however,
by no means altogether sandy. In parts of the desert here the
landscape varied a good deal. After marching through many miles of
sandy soil with the typical desert scrub, the scene would gradually
change. Isolated hills, standing 200 feet above the plain, would
appear. These hills were formations of ferruginous rock, covered
with boulders, but devoid of vegetation. The ground here used to
be strewn with a layer of shale, presumably broken off in a kind
of flakes from the hills by the heat of the sun, and scattered over
the surface by the desert winds.
I recollect one of the most trying marches on the way to Kidal was
the day we arrived at the Well of Agamhor. We had been two days on
the march since the last well, and, by the guide’s information and
by my rough calculations, we should arrive at the well by 10 or 11
a.m. As there was no suitable place to camp for the day and get a
little shade, at 9 a.m., contrary to my usual practice, I decided to
push on to the well and march, if necessary, till eleven. It was one
of the hottest days we had experienced, and we were marching over
a rocky ridge, which radiated the heat with intense fierceness. I
was rather exhausted, too, as I had had a long stalk that morning
after some white oryx, before I had managed to shoot one. We trudged
steadily on till long after eleven, and still there was no sign
of the well. The guide then began to urge that we should halt,
saying the well was still far away and we could not reach it till
3 p.m. The men and camels were fatigued and hot, so I decided to
halt. Until 4 p.m. we lay gasping on the rocky, burning ground,
vainly trying to get some shade. It was not possible to pitch my
tent, as the soil was too hard, so I followed the men’s example
by lying on the shady side of two or three articles of baggage. The
sun was pitiless, there was no pasturage for the camels in that
barren spot, and we were all thankful to start once more late in
the afternoon. We did not arrive at the well till nearly eleven
o’clock that night, when both men and beasts threw themselves
down exhausted, glad to stop where they lay till morning-time.
The camels after this march began to show signs of fatigue; several,
too, had got terribly sore backs. These sore backs had not altogether
developed on the march, for I had noticed them suffering from barely
healed wounds before we left Gao. I had been assured, however,
that it was very rare to get a hired camel without a tender place
on his back, so there seemed to be nothing to do but accept the
situation. I used to dress their wounds daily with iodoform and
cotton-wool, but it was almost as painful to me to see them loaded
as it must have been to themselves. I lightened the loads as much
as possible, but most of my kit had to be carried if I hoped ever
to reach the other side of the Sahara, so I had to harden my heart
and ignore the pain they must have sometimes endured. The Bambara
soldiers, when charging a camel, are quite callous. But they do not,
and I suppose never will, understand the beast. Being negroes, they
are totally unconscious of the pain animals can suffer. Of course,
it must be said that they are not natives of a camel country, and so
are handicapped by a lack of knowledge of the beast, when they are
enlisted in camel corps. I think they never quite appreciate the
necessity for giving the camel a regular number of hours daily in
a pasturage whenever it is possible, and they certainly are not
as careful about watering him as are the nomads of the desert,
who are brought up from their childhood to look after camels.
The camel is a curious-tempered animal. He seems to have the same
characteristic as most desert nomads. He dislikes mankind cordially,
and takes no pains to disguise the fact.
To mount a camel he must be made first to squat on the ground.
This is accomplished at the expense of some time and temper, by
pulling his head towards the ground by means of the string in his
nostril and ejaculating frequently a soothing noise similar to what
is used by a nurse when she tries to induce a baby to go to sleep.
The camel at last obeys, with many grunts and “protests.” The
next operation is to mount. The first point is to seize the rein in
your right hand and place this hand on the front of the saddle. At
the same time you must seize the camel’s nostril in your left hand,
turning his head inwards until the nose nearly reaches the front of
the saddle. Every movement on your part will call forth numerous deep
growls of protest, but one soon gets accustomed to this, and takes
no notice of it. When, however, you seize the nostril and pull his
head round he will roar as if he were being tortured to death. It
is advisable to place the left foot on the slack part of the rein
on the ground, or he may take you by surprise and suddenly jump up.
[Illustration: THE WELLS OF TABANKHOR
The difficulty of discerning a well in the Sahara, until one is
actually within a few paces of it, is here clearly indicated. The
well is rarely marked by any distinctive features, such as trees,
vegetation, or any particular accident in the ground. It is merely
a hole excavated in the sand, which can only too easily be missed
by the traveller, possibly with serious consequences should he be
short of water. The donkeys and bullock in the illustration belonged
to Kountah Arabs in the Southern Sahara, and on the right are seen
water-skins just filled from the well ready to be laden on the
beasts for transport to the Arab encampment in the desert hard by.]
[Illustration: A SNAPSHOT OF THE “KING OF BEASTS” AMID HIS
NATURAL SURROUNDINGS
This was a lucky snapshot of a lion going to drink, on a branch of
the Middle Niger. Having news of a “kill,” I managed during
the day to get into a concealed position near his lair. Fortune
favoured me when the lion emerged from his resting-place, passing
within a few paces of me on his way to the water.]
Having successfully accomplished all these manœuvres, you should
rapidly throw the right leg over the saddle, lifting the left foot
from the rein and placing it on] his neck. The camel will then
generally—but not always— rise with a most disconcerting jerk,
growling loudly all the while. This is perhaps the most awkward,
and even dangerous, moment for the unwary novice. On rising the
camel first throws his head and body forward and then backward with
lightning-like rapidity, when the rider must conform by equally
rapidly jerking his own body in the inverse directions, otherwise
he will inevitably lose his balance and be hurled on the ground.
The Saharan camel is not a well-trained animal, so it behoves one
to be careful when first attempting to mount an unknown beast.
After having mounted the rider will not persuade him to cease his
angry grumbles for some little time. If he refuses to rise, as
he sometimes does, the only plan is to tap more or less violently
with the feet on his neck; but in every case the golden rule is to
have patience, for of all the brutes in creation which have been
tamed to do man’s will, the camel is surely the most trying. I
have sometimes spent ten minutes in endeavouring to make a camel
rise, when I was in a particular hurry to be off. Beating is quite
ineffectual, and only serves to humble one’s pride. A camel’s
hide is pretty tough, and he cares little for the blow from a thick
stick or whip.
The camel never seems really happy unless he is absolutely left to
himself. Far away from mankind, and unobserved, he eats and eats
till he is gorged, and then lies down to sleep. If man is at hand he
will never eat as well as when by himself; the presence of a human
being seems to have a strange effect on him. This has been often
proved by noticing the difference between camels left at their
pasturage in perfect liberty and those which are guarded by men
while feeding. The former regain condition comparatively quickly,
while the latter, besides taking longer, will probably never return
to such good form as their more fortunately placed brothers who
are grazing quite at liberty. When near a man he constantly seems
to sulk and not to make the best of himself. I have known camels
in the Sahara, who had not had anything to eat for several days,
refuse their food after being ill-treated, seemingly preferring to
die than to accept any favour from the person who has beaten them.
Although camels can go several days without water, yet, when they
do drink, they are gluttons for it. They drink an abnormally large
quantity at a time, and will return to drink two or three times in
the day until satisfied. Camels suffer a good deal from indigestion,
and this is probably due to the huge quantities of food and water
they consume.
It was the custom to hobble our animals at night, and I recollect
how on one occasion on this march to Kidal, my plans for the next
day’s journey were upset by a freak on their part. We halted one
night, rather tired after a long march, about eleven o’clock. The
road was rough, as we had entered into a mountainous, rocky country,
and it was impossible to move any further until the sun rose, the
moon having just set. It so happened that there was an excellent
pasturage in an “oued” close by, and into this the camels were
turned after being hobbled for the night.
I awoke next morning at daybreak to find all except four of the
brutes had disappeared. They had wandered off, moving, as they
do when hobbled, by a series of little jumps, in the direction
from which we had come the previous evening. I sent a party to
track them. They had gone back a distance of fifteen miles to our
last halting-place, and were found quietly grazing there, quite
unconcerned at the trouble they had given us! The incident made
me lose a valuable day. It was not the slightest use to get angry,
so I resigned myself to such incidents quite meekly at last. Camels
will wander extraordinary distances in search of water when very
thirsty. I heard of a case where two camels had gone back a six
days’ march to the previous well, when, had they only known it,
the next well was only one day’s march ahead! Usually they have
a keen instinct for the presence of water, and when they have been
to a well, along a certain route, they will recollect the road in
a wonderful manner.
Cases of guides having lost their way, and having then trusted
themselves to the memory of the camel, by allowing him to go in the
direction he selects, are frequently repeated. The camel in such
cases generally, although, of course, not invariably, brings the
caravan safely to the well. It must be understood that this will
not occur unless the animal has followed that route on previous
occasions, and further, that he must in such cases usually be within
a few miles, at most, of the well.
One rather unpleasant feature about these Sahara camels is the number
of ticks they collect. These loathsome insects find a habitation
on all camels, and are difficult to destroy.
I was advised to ride barefoot in the desert, but never could
persuade myself to try on account of the fear of ticks. As I
previously mentioned, the camel is here ridden with the rider’s
feet on the animal’s neck, and I used always to wear long
riding-boots made of soft leather with soft soles. If heavy-soled
boots are worn the camel’s neck will get chafed from the constant
friction of the leather against his skin. The hair of the mane of a
riding-camel is invariably worn away on account of the pressure of
the rider’s feet, and a riding-camel can generally be distinguished
by this mark.
Stirrups are never used with the camels of the Central and Western
Sahara. All camels are trained by Tuaregs or Arabs, from whom they
are bought, and these two races never ride with stirrups, but with
their feet on the animal’s neck. The camel is guided by the feet,
and he is urged forward by repeated taps of the feet on his neck. The
rein can hardly be said to guide him, and is certainly never put to
this use by the desert nomads. The rein generally is attached to a
ring in his right nostril, being then brought under his neck to the
near side. Its chief use is to haul up the animal’s head when he,
in his pig-headed way, will lower it to graze against your wishes.
A camel’s walk is a most tiring motion. He sways you from side
to side as well as from front to rear. It is something like being
in a ship when she is both pitching and tossing. I never got used
to the movement, and for the first few weeks used to get painfully
stiff and sore.