The Ahnet or Western Hoggar — A bad reputation — Tuareg
highwaymen — A salt well — A barren region — We reach Insalah
— A dramatic entrance — Colonel Laperine — Insalah — Its
importance — Resources — Artesian wells — Varieties of dates
— Pasturage — The streets.
THE region of the Tanezrouft, which we had just quitted, divides
Adrar from the Hoggar country, and it was into the Ahnet, or Western
Hoggar, that we had now emerged. The subsoil of Hoggar Ahnet consists
of a certain amount of clay underneath the sand. In this respect
it differed from the Tanezrouft, which has a large proportion of
salt in its subsoil. The salt is, of course, to a great extent
responsible for the barrenness of the Tanezrouft.
Western Hoggar consists of a plateau, about 200 feet lower than the
Tanezrouft, the average height of which is 1200 feet. The whole of
Hoggar is a mountainous country, situated almost in the middle of
the Central Sahara. The nomads, as has already been stated, are
a tribe of the Tuareg race. Their country is poor, as is only to
be expected in the Sahara, but at the same time a little barley is
grown in certain parts, while a small grape is also known to exist.
These Tuaregs have a certain number of sheep and goats, but they
are far inferior in quality as well as numbers to the flocks of
the Iforas. Indeed, the Hoggars buy goats and sheep from the nomads
of Adrar.
The Hoggars had a most unenviable reputation as the greatest robbers
in the Sahara until quite recent years. The French desert columns
have, however, inflicted some severe lessons on them, and they are
now no longer so much to be feared as formerly. That they have
not altogether abandoned their marauding propensities, however,
I was soon to discover for myself.
The Hoggar country is well placed for its nomads to practise
their robberies. This land lies on the flank of the trade routes of
caravans proceeding from the north to the Niger, or to Domaggoran and
the Hausa States. Hence the Hoggars were greatly feared by these
caravans for many years. If a caravan was not well protected it
was sure to fall a prey to their plundering bands, while isolated
parties of two or three men and a few camels ran considerable
risk of being captured and killed by them. These Tuaregs, like
nearly all their race, are not traders. They have none but the
most meagre resources in their own country, therefore they had to
plunder to live. In the desert they have few superiors, and are
adepts at handling camels. In some parts of their country water is
comparatively plentiful, while owing to the height of the mountains
the cold in the night and early morning from October to January is
very great. The highest peak, Mount Illimane, rises to a height
of 9000 feet, and I have been told that Tuaregs state that snow
has been seen on it. Hoggar Ahnet is in the nature of a flat spur
projecting from this otherwise mountainous country.
At 2.30 p.m. on the 3rd of June we left the wells of Ahnet. This was
now the last stage of the march to Insalah, and as time was getting
short I was anxious to push on as rapidly as possible. I calculated
I had still 800 miles of desert to traverse before reaching the
Algerian railways, and as my leave expired on the 10th of July I
should have some difficulty in reaching England by that date.
Compared with the Tanezrouft this land appeared to be a smiling
garden, so sharp was the contrast! Here there were wide “oueds,”
with good grazing for camels, and the relief at seeing even that
dried-up Saharan vegetation was indescribable. Wells were by no
means numerous, however, and between Ahnet and the next well,
called El Jibal, there was a stretch of eighty-eight miles, or
three long days’ march. It was while traversing this piece of
desert that we had an encounter with some Tuareg highwaymen.
One afternoon, about three o’clock, I noticed three wild figures
riding rapidly towards us on camels. They were approaching from
the south-east, so presumably came from the interior of the Hoggar
country. I called Mahomed’s attention to them, and instinctively
felt for my rifle, which I always carried slung at my saddle. The
small rifle was similarly slung on the saddle of my servant, and
both were always ready for use.
Mahomed was armed with an old French Lebel rifle and was, I knew,
a good shot. Othman had only a flint-lock muzzle-loader, which
was of doubtful value even if he were an expert marksman. In the
Sahara no one travels unarmed, so we were not surprised to see the
new arrivals had weapons. But they were literally armed to the
teeth, so appearances rather suggested they were up to no good.
Each man had an almost new Lebel carbine, with a bandolier full of
ammunition slung beside it, in addition they carried the two Tuareg
swords and a spear each.
Mahomed said nothing in reply to my ejaculation, but I saw him
slip a cartridge into the breech of his rifle, which significantly
showed what he thought of them. I gave Musa a warning word to be on
the alert with the ·303, and by this time they were almost within
speaking distance.
Their appearance was fantastic, reminding one forcibly of the
brigand in a play. The leader, a stalwart man with his face more
than usually enveloped in his “litham,” wore a bright red cloth
thrown over his shoulders, while his legs were encased in a pair of
gaily decorated leather boots, which reached almost to the thigh,
and covered entirely the lower part of his baggy white trousers.
The two followers were similarly attired, but less elaborately, and
appeared considerably inferior in rank. All three were mounted on
the shaggy-haired camels which are bred in the mountainous country
of Hoggar. These beasts looked built for speed, and appeared to be in
first-rate condition. Until I was more certain of their motives I did
not produce my rifle, although I was ready to do so at an instant.
[Illustration: ARAB AND TUAREG
Typical nomads of the Sahara. Observe how their faces are covered
with a veil (“litham”) to keep out the desert sand.]
At the time I was in rear of the little convoy, and the leader,
closely followed by his companions, rode rapidly up to Othman,
who was in front with Mahomed. Two men roughly seized Othman’s
“mesoued” (leather kitbag), while the third got in front of him,
laying his hand on his rifle. Their movements, evidently carefully
prearranged, had been so rapid that all this had happened in a
few seconds. I at once produced my rifle, urged my camel forward,
and ordered them to desist. My knowledge of Temacheq, as the Tuareg
language is called, was limited to a few words, but, on hearing my
tone of voice, they immediately looked towards me, and I covered
the third member of the gang with my rifle. He let go his weapon
at once, and the other two desisted. By this time Musa and Mahomed
had also got their rifles raised, and they realized, I suppose,
that the game was up. I can only imagine that they took it for
granted that we would be cowed at their overbearing demeanour,
otherwise their action in plain daylight would appear very foolish.
I told Mahomed to tell them to clear off at once or I should
make them prisoners; at the same time we relieved them of their
ammunition, without which they were harmless. I could not carry
their rifles, so left them in possession of these. Moreover, rifles
are fairly easy to replace, as there is so much gun-running in
North Africa, but ammunition is very hard to obtain. So ended this
little incident, which was my only experience with desert robbers.
It was perhaps fortunate that this party was such a small one, but,
in any case, we were well armed, and could always have given a good
account of ourselves.
After descending from the plateau of Ahnet we approached the
desolate region called Mouyidir, which lies between Ahnet and the
Tidikelt country. It first appeared as a frowning mass of black,
rocky hills on the east, which got nearer to us as we advanced
each day. Finally, we were marching on the western border of
the Mouyidir country. At this point was a well, called Imbelram,
which we reached on the 8th of June. This well was so salt that
the water was almost undrinkable. My first draught of water made me
ill, and it had an unpleasant effect on all who drank it. However,
we had to fill up our “guerbas” with this water, for there was
ahead of us a waterless region, about eighty miles wide, which was
a part of the Mouyidir plateau.
In some respects this region was as inhospitable as the Tanezrouft,
but a scanty amount of pasturage and fuel existed for the first
fifty miles, the remainder of the desert being absolutely without
any vegetation whatever.
Mouyidir is a district in which rain seldom falls. For the past seven
years there had not been a drop, so it was hardly to be wondered
at that there was little vegetation in the land. The plateau is
of chalky soil, the northern part being cut up with numerous slaty
gullies. Although sandstorms were less frequent here I found the heat
more trying than in the Tanezrouft. The highest shade temperature
I recorded was 111·5 degrees, and possibly we were fatigued by
our previous experiences, so noticed the heat more than we should
otherwise have done.
Musa was quite overcome on two occasions, and I began to feel glad
we were so near Insalah, where he would be able to rest. Poor Musa
by this time had assumed a woeful appearance. His clothes were in
such rags that he had to discard his nether garments altogether,
and turn his coat into trousers, by using the sleeves for his legs!
Around his body he carelessly flung his blanket, thus creating such a
ludicrous object that I could not help laughing when he first showed
himself in his new attire. My own scanty wardrobe was sadly in need
of repair, so I also longed for a chance of mending my clothes.
At this time I had, fortunately, one water-skin of fairly good water
remaining from the previous well, so decided to use it, only, for the
passage of the Mouyidir desert as long as it would last. The salt
water of Imbelram not only made me ill, but seemed to increase,
instead of alleviating, the thirst. Here again hard marching was
the order of the day. The distance to the well of El Gouirat on the
north side was covered in fifty-four hours; and the last fifty-five
miles took no more than thirty-four hours, in which we only rested
for four hours altogether. I must own to being greatly fatigued on
arriving at the well of El Gouirat, but as Mahomed declared it was
“quite near” to Insalah, indicating that we could reach it in
three hours, I decided to go on with him that afternoon, leaving
the baggage to follow with Othman and Musa the next day.
I suppose Mahomed’s joy at being so near his destination made
him exaggerate, for, to my cost, I discovered it was about twenty
miles to the oasis, and we did not arrive till eight o’clock that
night. Our camels were weary, and we were not a whit less so when,
at last, we saw the palm trees of the oasis in the distance.
As we rode over the crest of a sandy ridge Mahomed pointed in front
of us to a faint, dark line, just visible in the rapidly falling
dusk. The houses I could not see; even in the daytime they are
difficult to distinguish from the surrounding sand until one is
quite close to them.
My entry at the officers’ mess was a strange one. The Arab
servant who answered my summons at the door regarded me with evident
suspicion. Probably the only Europeans he ever saw were the officers
with whom he was well acquainted, and the sight of a strange white
face seemed to cause him great uneasiness. He positively refused me
admission, so I brushed past him and mounted some steps towards the
flat roof on which I could see some men sitting. When I announced
myself their surprise was hardly less than that of the servant. They
afterwards told me that they had heard news of my projected journey
during the previous October, nine months ago. They had expected
me to pass through Insalah in March or April, and, as I had not
arrived, they thought I had probably abandoned my plan or come to
grief in the Sahara. No wonder, therefore, that my appearance now
caused them some surprise.
When I arrived that night, the 12th of July, the heartiness of their
welcome could not have been exceeded. It made one really appreciate
kindness when it was extended, as it was by these French officers
to me, with such thorough genuineness.
At the risk of being accused of gluttony, I must acknowledge
how I enjoyed my supper at Insalah that night. After eating food
cooked in sand for the past five weeks it was a treat to have a
well-served-up dish.
It appeared that the Commandant, Colonel Laperine, was away, a
piece of news at which I was much disappointed, for I had heard so
much of his fame as a soldier skilled in desert warfare, that I had
looked forward to this opportunity of meeting him. In the Central
Sahara, I suppose there is no name so widely known and respected,
or feared, as the case may be, by Tuareg and Arab. He had served
for many years with French troops in this region, where only the
hardest and most self-controlled men can possibly exist, and on
many occasions had led “forlorn hopes” with brilliant success.
Although he has now left those parts for a high command in France,
Colonel Laperine’s name is one which will live for many a long
year in the Central Sahara.
[Illustration: INSALAH OASIS
Date-palms grow here in profusion, thanks to the liberal system
of irrigation which waters their roots. In the moist ground at
their feet are grown small patches of barley and a few coarse
vegetables. On seeing this vista of emerald verdure, who would think
that for many hundred miles south, east, and west there is scarcely
a green blade, nor anything more restful to the traveller’s jaded
eye than small patches of sun-scorched Saharan vegetation?]
I was comfortably housed in the post at Insalah that night, and the
following day my baggage arrived at an early hour, having marched
all night. The exhausted camels were taken away by Mahomed for a
well-earned feed on dates and a thorough rest. Although we had been
fortunate in not losing a single animal during the hardships of
the last five weeks, yet most of them were in a desperately poor
condition, and would need many weeks in a pasturage before they
would be again fit for work.
From Gao to Insalah I calculated I had marched across 936 miles of
desert, and the time taken was fifty days.
I had slept that night on the roof of my house, as I was warned
it would be very hot inside. I awoke very early to find a small
sandstorm raging round me, and jumped out of bed fairly quickly. It
was not till some hours later, when the wind had abated, that I
was able to get my first real glimpse of Insalah.
The officers’ quarters were all inside the fortified post, and
were built with thick walls of red clay. This clay is found in the
desert in certain places not far from Insalah, at some feet below
the sand, and all the huts at Insalah are made of it. Insalah lies
in the middle of a sandy plain, which is enclosed on the east and
west by low ridges of sand-hills. It is one of the oases, and the
principal one, in the region called Tidikelt. It is a date-palm oasis
of some importance. The oasis stretches for a distance of about three
and one-third miles to the west, while the grove of palm trees is
on the average one and one-third miles wide. Insalah is made up of
three “ksours” or villages. The total population is about five
hundred. These consist mostly of Arabs, but traders from all parts
of the Sahara, who are constantly arriving on their way through,
make a further floating population of fifty to one hundred souls.
The importance of Insalah is due to its geographical position.
It lies at the eastern extremity of the long line of oases which
commences with Colomb Béchar, extending through Beni Abbes and
the Touat. Owing to this comparatively fertile region of oases
giving a good line of communication into the Sahara from the west,
caravans from the borders of south-west Morocco naturally follow
this route and come to Insalah. From Insalah there are several
important caravan routes leading north, south, and east. The main
caravan route from the north, leading from Biskra to the Niger,
passes through here; while caravans proceeding to Tripoli from the
west also use this route in preference to any other.
Water at Insalah is very plentiful, but slightly salt. It is found
at a depth of about fifteen feet, but the second layer of water,
which is preferable for Europeans to drink, is found at a depth of
thirty feet.
The principal resource of Insalah is its dates. The population lives
on the date harvest, and there is a sufficient surplus for sale to
nomads in less favoured localities in the desert. A small quantity of
corn and barley is also grown by irrigation. The method of irrigating
is worthy of notice. Water is, of course, led from the wells, of
which there are positively hundreds at Insalah. Small trenches
are dug, called “fogara,” by which the water is conducted
from the well to the foot of the palm trees, thus irrigating the
dates. Around the foot of the palms each landowner grows a small
farm of corn or barley. These little farms are irrigated from the
main “fogara,” by minor channels leading in different directions.
During the past three years the French have bored numerous artesian
wells. The largest gives an output of 4500 litres a minute. The
result of all this irrigation is to produce a wonderfully verdant
mass of foliage, which is most refreshing to the eye of the desert
traveller, who, like myself, has not seen anything that could be
called really green for many weeks. It cannot be said that Insalah
is a prosperous centre of trade. Beyond a little commerce in dates
it does no business whatever. The inhabitants are poor. The place
is being rapidly encroached on by the desert sand, and, altogether,
its future does not appear bright. In order to prevent the sand
from encroaching desperate efforts have been made to keep it out
by building barricades on the side from which the prevailing wind
blows. These barricades, built on the north-east of the oasis, are
made of batches of palm leaves, placed on the tops of high mounds
or sand-dunes. But Insalah is a place of sand, in which, during the
greater part of the year, a strong north-east wind is blowing, ever
bringing more and more sand into the oasis. The so-called streets
are several inches deep in soft sand, and everything gets covered
with it in the houses.
[Illustration: THE ARTESIAN WELL OF EL BARHA AT INSALAH
By boring artesian wells the French have done much to fertilize the
Insalah oasis. The first layer of water at Insalah is close to the
surface, but is exceedingly saline, which is seen by the curious
crust of salt deposited on the surface of the sand in the vicinity
of a well. The water at this artesian well rushes out with great
force, being led off in various directions by small channels to
irrigate the surrounding land.]
[Illustration: THE MARKET-PLACE, TOUGGOURT
Groups of Arabs are to be seen, squatting in Eastern fashion,
selling their wares at these stalls in the daytime. The market
is also a great place for gossip, where the news of the desert is
dispensed—often highly coloured—to all comers. One of the chief
features here is the tea tavern, much frequented by these people,
who, being Mussulmans, are forbidden, by the tenets of the Koran,
to drink alcohol.]
While at Insalah I went for a ride in the palm groves, and it was
then that I learned something about dates. There are many varieties
of the fruit, but the principal ones are the “grhess” and the
“deglet-nour.” The former is the ordinary date of commerce, and
is the one grown and sold at Insalah. It is the “grhess” which
is eaten by the desert traveller, and it is carried for sale in bags
made of camel’s hair, called “tellis.” A “tellis” contains
eighty to one hundred kilos of dates, and two “tellis” make a
camel’s load. Dates are harvested in September or October. At this
period of the year nomads flock to the oasis to gather their harvest
or buy the fruit if they do not themselves possess trees at Insalah.
The “deglet-nour” is a finer date. It is, indeed, the date we
see in England, sold for dessert in white boxes. None of these are
grown at Insalah, but they come from the oases in the extreme north.
If rain falls in any quantity where dates are growing the fruit is
ruined. The date tree requires plenty of irrigation at the roots,
but water on the fruit quite spoils the latter. The reason for this
is that dates are covered with a coating of sugar, which protects
and nourishes the fruit, but rain washes this off. At Insalah,
and all date oases, there are swarms of flies. These flies come to
feed on the sugar, just mentioned, on the coating of a date. The
plague of flies in these places is most disagreeable, and commences
from the time the fruit begins to ripen, continuing till the end
of the harvest.
Pasturage for camels is bad and scarce near Insalah. Camels have
to be sent 200 kilometres away to graze, so that, when they are at
Insalah, some other form of food has to be given them. The animals
actually stopping in the oasis are generally fed on dates. These are
broken up into small pieces, and either given raw, or cooked soft,
to the beasts. Dates are an expensive form of diet for the camel,
as his appetite is so insatiable, but at the same time they are
very nourishing. Camels are also fed on barley, but as the quantity
grown at Insalah is so small this form of food is exceptional.
Some of the streets of Insalah are absurdly narrow. The main street
in the principal “ksour” in one place is barely twelve inches
wide. The ponies of the oasis are very clever at passing along
it—from constant practice, I suppose. The houses at this spot
have been built so close together that little room was left between
them for a street. Insalah has the appearance of an Eastern town.
Arab beggars and cripples are a common sight in its streets. Some
of these are uncommonly dirty, but picturesque. Tattered, flowing
gowns, once white, but now coffee colour from the dirt of ages,
adorn their lean bodies; while the older ones have fine white beards,
often sweeping half-way down their breast. The Arabs of this part are
fine-looking men as a rule. They are very pale of complexion, with
black or dark brown eyes, aquiline noses, and white teeth. Most of
them are muscular and extremely wiry. I fancy a great many children
die at birth, so it is a case of the survival of the fittest.
A strange place is this little town of sand, buried in the heart of
the Central Sahara, but although so small, and with such limited
resources, what a paradise it seems to many a wayfarer in the
desert! Here at least it is possible to get shelter from the cruel
sandstorms and from the fierce heat of the sun. At Insalah there is
that precious necessity of life, water. While here, also, a man can
rest, and his camels can be relieved of their burdens. The necessity
for hurrying forward with the restless energy which is required
of a caravan in the Sahara need no longer be exercised. Peace and
rest are the two exclamations which must rise to the lips of almost
every traveller when he sees the Oasis of Insalah before him.