Disturbing news — _En route_ for Algiers — A remarkable man —
Horses at Insalah — Hospitality of French officers — Slavery
amongst the Arabs — An unusual sight — A pathetic story —
My own valet and cook — A precipitous track — The “Great
Erg”— Hassy Inifel — An incompetent guide — Lost — A useful
camel-driver — A hospitable Arab chief — An unappetizing menu —
The dates of Ouargla — Touggourt — A ramshackle coach — Biskra.
THE morning after my arrival at Insalah the officer in command of
the post came to see me wearing a very troubled look. I could not
help surmising that some serious incident had occurred, and waited
for him to tell me what it was.
It appeared that a messenger had just arrived in great haste on a
camel from a place called Tit, which was a small oasis in the Touat
region, about sixty-six miles from Insalah.
The messenger, a “Méhariste” of the camel corps, stationed in
the Tidikelt, was one of a column which had gone out with Captain
Niéger, some days previous to my arrival, into the desert west of
Insalah. This column was engaged in some military operations in that
district which were expected to last some time. The news which he
brought was grave. It appeared that Captain Niéger had stopped at
Tit to settle some dispute between two Arabs there. One of these
men, apparently dissatisfied with the decision of the Captain in
the matter, had waited his opportunity for revenge.
When Captain Niéger was entering his tent and had his back turned
to the man, the latter sprang upon him and stabbed him in the
liver. He then lifted his dagger for a second blow, but Captain
Niéger had quickly turned and caught his hand as it was descending.
The second stab was of no consequence, merely cutting his wrist,
but the first one had caused a dangerous wound. The Captain lay in
a serious condition at Tit. The message urgently asked for a doctor
to be despatched at once. It was further stated in the message that
the would-be murderer was a fanatical Mohammedan, but that he had
been caught, and it was hoped the trouble would not influence other
fanatics in the district to a serious rising. My host was naturally
very disturbed at this news, especially as the Captain was a great
personal friend of his. A doctor was immediately despatched to
the scene of the incident, and we could only hope that he would
be in time to save the officer’s life. It was evident that his
condition was critical, for the Captain had sent a message for his
family in France.
I had now to arrange for fresh camels and a new guide to accompany
me from Insalah to the end of my journey. My original plan had been
to go from Insalah to Colomb Béchar. The latter oasis lies about
600 miles north-west of Insalah. It is at the rail-head of the
Oran railway. I now found, however, that I should not have time to
carry out this part of my programme, and that I should be obliged
to adopt the shorter route to Algiers, which led almost due north
through the oases of Ouargla and Touggourt. By this latter route I
should be able to join the railway line at Biskra, 125 miles north
of Touggourt. Moreover, between Touggourt and Biskra I could have
the benefit of the coaching service, which runs three times a week
and covers the distance in two days.
An Arab trader was found willing to let me have camels and to act
himself as guide. My caravan was to be ready on the 15th. I had now
consumed, or thrown away, so much of my ammunition and provisions
that I could with ease reduce the number of baggage animals to two.
A French sergeant, who was proceeding on leave, was to accompany
my caravan. He also had two camel loads. Our two “méhara,” or
riding camels, made the total of the caravan amount to six camels.
The guide had one “sokrar,” or camel driver, to assist him,
and included in the party was an Arab soldier going on furlough to
the north.
Our guide was not a prepossessing individual. He belonged
to a mongrel race who were an offshoot from the big Chaamba
tribe. His appearance led one to believe that he was a lazy and
not over-intelligent scoundrel. However, guides do not grow on
every gooseberry bush at Insalah, so I considered myself lucky to
be able to secure one so quickly.
A question that rather puzzled me was how the news of my intended
arrival had not reached Insalah by the messenger who had been
despatched from Kidal. I was informed, however, that he had not
yet arrived, and, curiously enough, he did not arrive till the day
before I left Insalah. So I had actually travelled more rapidly
than he had done! He had been much delayed by some accident to his
camel and by the great heat on the way.
The camels I was to use were far stronger-looking animals than any
I had seen in the south. On the other hand, the riding camels of
the north are inferior to those of the Iforas. The baggage camels
will here carry enormous loads. It is quite a common sight to see
400 to 500 pounds on an animal’s back, while they even carry as
much as 600 pounds in some parts. Camels will travel without a halt
for a fortnight with such a load on their backs without suffering
any ill-effects. But, at the same time, it must not be thought that
these animals will be fit for hard work at once directly they reach
their journey’s end. Like other camels in the Southern Sahara,
they require long periods of rest after accomplishing a long desert
march. Two to three months in perfect liberty in their pasturage
is necessary for a camel in such a case.
[Illustration: THE SPRING OF EL GUETTERA
This is an unusually attractive-looking spot for the Sahara
Desert! It was the only occasion on which I saw water flowing out
of a spring between Gao and Biskra—1600 miles. A spring of cool,
crystal water flows out of the rock here—a grateful boon to the
thirsty traveller who, like myself, has been existing on disgusting
liquid, made nauseous by several days’ jolting in a not over-clean
water-skin.]
At Insalah there is a fine library well equipped with books on
desert travel. I had little time to do more than glance at one
or two of these, but any desert traveller could not fail to be
interested in much of this literature. One book particularly roused
my interest. This was a work of Saharan travel by a man called
“Père de Foucauld” (the Vicomte de Foucauld), whose name is
well known to men in Central Sahara.
This remarkable man was originally in the French army, but latterly
joined the sect of the “White Fathers.” He has travelled much in
the desert, and a great many years ago executed a wonderful journey
from the Mediterranean through Morocco to the Atlantic coast in the
Spanish colony of Rio del Oro. This journey he performed in disguise
as an Arab, but was discovered by the natives to be a Christian
and a European, and only escaped with his life after running some
extraordinary risks. M. de Foucauld has for the past few years
taken a great interest in the Tuaregs of the Hoggar country. He
resides among them, treating sick people and doing much good in
several ways. He has so far gained their confidence as to be able
to remain unmolested in their wild land. Further, he has greatly
assisted the French Government in stopping the plundering habits of
the Hoggars. He resides in a little hut in a part of their desert
called Tamanrasset, a good many miles to the east of the route I
had taken, and is almost the only European with any knowledge of the
language of the Tuaregs. He is now engaged in writing a dictionary
which will be of the greatest assistance in the study of Temacheq.
The horses in use at Insalah come from the north. They are bred
in that part of Algeria called the Tell, which is a region along
the coast of the Mediterranean. These horses seem to keep very
fit at Insalah. They are sturdy little animals, about 13.2 to 14
hands, rather resembling the Barb, but more stoutly built. All the
Europeans at Insalah keep horses. Of course, these animals are of
no use in the desert, but to ride about in the oasis they are most
useful. The chief difficulty is getting them across the Northern
Sahara to Insalah. They are fed on barley or crushed dates. No sheep
or cows were to be seen, but I was told that in the cooler season,
from October to January, when the caravans are trading with the
Adrar of the Iforas, a considerable number of sheep are brought
here for sale. My guide Mahomed told me that the previous year
he had brought a flock of sheep from Kidal, which had cost on the
average 5 francs a head, and he had sold them at 15 to 25 francs
apiece at Insalah. The profit was good, but obviously the risk
was great, even when wells were more numerous and better supplied
with water than at the present season of the year. Moreover, there
was always the dangerous passage of the Tanezrouft to cope with,
and for that portion of the journey water had to be carried for
the sheep as well as the men of the caravan, thus entailing a huge
number of camels for water alone.
The last morning of my stay at Insalah I was the guest of the
officers at _déjeuner_. I was much honoured at being the recipient
of many kindly expressed wishes from the good friends I had made
there, and, as they stated, it was rather a unique occasion for an
English officer to be entertained in the Sahara by officers of the
French army. Many and fervid were the words in which the Commandant
hoped for the continuance of the _entente cordiale_, and I could
only reply that, judging from my experiences while travelling
through the vast country which was ruled under the French flag,
there seemed little likelihood of the good feeling between the two
countries not enduring for many years to come.
My servant Musa had not yet recovered from the effects of our trials
in the Tanezrouft, and I had some doubt as to the advisability of
taking him any further. Unfortunately, there was not the slightest
prospect of getting a servant of any description at Insalah. While I
was debating this point, however, he hinted at being frightened of
going into Algeria on account of his dread of being captured into
slavery by Arabs. Until quite recent times much of the slave-trade
in the Sahara was carried on by the Arabs. These people used to
raid down into the south, carrying off into slavery the negroes
of the Niger valley. Since the advent of the French this trade had
practically ceased to exist, although isolated cases did even now
occur. Musa had probably heard some of the harrowing tales of olden
days, and seemed to think he would be putting his head into the
lion’s mouth should he venture into the very country of the Arabs.
In the ordinary course not much harm was done by capturing slaves
in the old days, for they were very well treated, not hard worked,
and well fed. In fact, many of these slaves used to refuse to take
their liberty when it was offered them. But in the case of slaves
being captured by Arabs the position was a very different one. The
Arabs were cruel masters, who beat and sometimes killed their slaves
for the most trivial offences. Hence they were universally hated
and feared by the negro. I pointed out to Musa that this sort of
thing could not easily happen at the present day, and that with me
he would be perfectly safe. I think, however, that his nerves were
rather overwrought at what he had suffered, and he hardly seemed
to be convinced. Under the circumstances it seemed more prudent
to allow him to remain behind. Accordingly, I arranged with a
French officer to take charge of him until there was a suitable
opportunity of sending him with a caravan to the Niger in the
autumn. I was sorry to part with Musa for several reasons. He was
an excellent, hard-working, and faithful “boy.” I had hardly
heard him utter a single complaint all through that trying time
in the desert. Moreover, his loss was an irreparable one for me.
Henceforth I should have to cook my own food and make my own bed. I
can hardly say I relished the prospect!
For the first twenty-five miles of our journey north there were
two oases, in each of which the water was obtained from artesian
wells, and was excellent. The idea of finding wells at such close
intervals appeared strange after our former experiences, and it
hardly seemed as if we could really be still travelling through the
Sahara. The intervening country, however, was typical desert. These
two spots had been fertilized by purely artificial means, merely
possible because the water here is plentiful and at no great depth
below the surface of the sand. The surroundings are desolate in
the extreme. A bare, undulating, sandy plain is the characteristic
feature of the whole country. No “oueds” or pasturage for camels
are anywhere available. Not a leaf or blade of grass is to be seen.
Camels are fed on dates procurable at these two oases _en route_.
At the second oasis, called Foggaret el Zoua, there is a fair amount
of barley grown. After this there was no water for fifty-seven miles,
until we reached the mountain range of El Guettera. Here there is
a spring in the rock, so that one actually sees a faint trickle of
running water—an unusual sight in the desert, and one I had not
seen since quitting the Niger, nearly eight weeks previously.
[Illustration: THE OASIS OF OUARGLA
This place might appropriately be called one of the outposts of
civilization in the Northern Sahara. After crossing over 1300 miles
of desert one sees for the first time a collection of flat-roofed
houses, a market-place full of bargaining, gesticulating Arabs,
and that most evident sign of civilization the electric telegraph.
Ouargla exists by reason of her date trade. Here is grown the finest
date of commerce, viz. the dessert date as we know it in England.]
There is rather a pathetic story attached to this spring. About
two months earlier, an Arab and his wife were journeying from the
north towards Insalah. They had missed their way and exhausted
their water supply. First, all their camels died by the road, one
by one overcome with thirst. The man and his wife struggled on,
hoping to find the spring of El Guettera, and well aware that it
could not be far off. The woman next succumbed, but the man kept
on, dragging himself wearily along, buoyed with the hope that he
must be close to water. The distance, however, was greater than he
had thought, and he too died. His body was discovered a few days
later by a passing caravan. He had actually arrived within half
a mile of the spring, and if he had only known this, poor fellow,
he would probably have had strength to reach it!
All this time I had been practising doing valet and cook to
myself with indifferent success. I knew sufficient about cooking,
of course, to be able to make simple dishes for myself, having
frequently done this before, as must anyone who wishes to travel.
But when I arrived at the halting-place, generally after a long,
hot march, I felt anything but inclined to begin to cook my own
repast. Moreover, the difficulties caused by periodic gusts of sand,
from which we were not exempt here, made the effort of cooking most
fatiguing. At night, too, I used often to feel very disinclined
to make my own bed, and again to pack it up when we started once
more. Indeed, latterly, I used infinitely to prefer to sleep on
one blanket on the sand to getting out my bed and pitching it,
with its paraphernalia of bedding. The two Arabs were far too busy
with their camels and too ignorant of cooking in any form to be of
the slightest assistance. The same argument applied to the soldier
“Méhariste.” All these people live practically on a handful
of raw dates, and any form of food different from this is unknown
to them. How I envied them their simple tastes sometimes!
The range of El Guettera forms the south-western border of the
plateau of Tademayt. This rocky plateau runs in a north-and-south
direction, and at its foot lies the region of the oases, viz.
Insalah, Touat, Beni Abbes, and the eastern extremity of Colomb
Béchar. Its elevation above the sea is about 1600 feet. On climbing
up to the top of this plateau we had to follow a precipitous track,
on each side of which was a deep chasm. In the chasms could be
seen the bones of camels, which had evidently, at different times,
lost their footing and perished. Fortunately for us we reached
the summit in safety, but many times a camel’s foot slipped,
and his fate hung in the balance. As we progressed across the
plateau the surface became more sandy and level. Pasturage, too,
was more plentiful, and that night, the 18th of June, we camped
in a fine wide “oued,” called by the name of Musa Benaïsch,
and the camels fairly revelled in the pasturage here, for it was
the first good feed they had had since leaving Insalah, and in any
case they infinitely preferred the “acheb” here to the diet of
dates to which they had so long been accustomed.
Near this spot we came upon an encampment of Chaamba Arabs. They
had a large number of camels and sheep. This was the first time
that I had seen any sheep since leaving Adrar. Of course, they
refused to part with any, so our hopes of fresh meat were soon
dashed to the ground. There had been no signs of game hitherto,
as indeed was only natural, for there was nothing for them to eat,
but now that “oueds” were becoming more plentiful we noticed
tracks of Loder’s gazelle from time to time.
On the 29th of June we quitted the Tademayt plateau and descended
on to a wide plain of gravelly soil. This plain was flanked on the
east and west by the two great sandy deserts known as the Eastern
and Western “Great Erg” respectively. The character of the
country in the “Great Erg” is unique in the Sahara. The word
“erg” in Arabic means sand-hill. And these two vast deserts
consist of wide expanses of dunes of soft sand. They stretch almost
uninterruptedly from Morocco on the west to Tripoli on the east.
Marching in this dreary region is most difficult for man and beast.
At every step the feet sink deep into the sand. Moreover the sand
drifts on account of the usual prevalent north-east wind, frequently
changing the appearance of the sand-hills to such an extent that
guides lose their landmarks and miss the way.
But although these “erg” appear so barren there is a fair amount
of Saharan vegetation, and pasturage for camels is not difficult to
obtain. The sand is a dazzling yellowish white, but in some instances
one sees several ridges of reddish sand, showing out very distinctly
in contrast to the ordinary colour. From here to the next well it
was a two days’ march. We had already had several examples of our
guide’s incompetence. He often appeared to be at fault. But it was
not till now that he actually lost the way. He would, I am convinced,
have never found it had it not been for the “Méhariste.” This
man was a typical nomad of the Sahara, and, although having only
once previously travelled by this route, he managed to lead us
out of our difficulties to Hassy Inifel. “Hassy” is the word
for “well,” so that nearly every well has the word “hassy”
prefixed to its name in the Central Sahara.
At Inifel there is a stone block-house, built by the French
some years ago, when this was a military post. In it there were
two comfortable rooms, where we could rest from the heat of the
day. We were now about half-way to Ouargla, and so the sight of
Inifel cheered us up, making us feel that we had left another
milepost behind.
From Inifel the way lay north-east, following close to a big
“oued”—the Oued Mya. This dried-up waterway runs for about 200
miles north-north-east to Ouargla, and must have been an important
river in its day.
Between Inifel and the next well, called Zmeila, there was a
long march of three days, which took us over ninety-five miles of
stony ground, lying several miles to the west of the “oued.”
In this country the camels had rather a rough time, for there was
practically no pasturage for them, and our guide, with his usual
ignorance, or want of foresight, had not arranged to carry any food
for them. To add to his delinquencies, the stupid rascal again lost
the way. At the time we were marching at night. He had pointed to
his “sokrar” the direction in which he said the well lay, while
he made an excuse for dropping in rear of the caravan. I thought he
was an unusually long time in regaining his place, and so turned
back to see what he was doing. I found him peacefully sleeping on
a baggage camel, and, had I not been so angry, I could not have
helped laughing at the humorous spectacle that met my eyes. He
was in a crouching position, half lying on his stomach, with his
legs firmly clasped round the camel’s hump. How on earth he could
manage to sleep in this extraordinary posture was more than I could
understand. His appearance suggested a sack of potatoes thrown
over the animal’s back! I applied my riding-whip pretty freely
to a certain portion of his anatomy, and he awoke with a start,
nearly losing the balance he had so marvellously preserved hitherto.
When he had rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and seemed to realize
the situation, he looked ahead of him into the expanse of desert
and solemnly declared that we were lost. He said he did not in the
least know where we were, and that it was the “sokrar’s”
fault for not keeping the direction he had given him. We soon
came to the conclusion that he was speaking the truth with regard
to not knowing where we were, and as to the reason how this had
happened it appeared to be immaterial. It is a strange thing how
philosophical one becomes in the desert, and the position, which
was really sufficiently serious to cause anxiety, did not disturb
our equanimity as much as it should have done.
[Illustration: THE RESIDENCY AT TOUGGOURT
The official who resides here is a military officer, and administers
a large portion of the Sahara, south of Algeria, called the “Annexe
of Touggourt.” This oasis boasts of a small hotel and is visited by
some of the more enterprising tourists from Biskra occasionally. The
distance to Biskra is only 125 miles, which can be covered in two
days by the desert coach running between the two places.]
[Illustration: CHAAMBA ARABS AT TOUGGOURT
A desert caravan has just arrived; the camels have been unloaded
and are going to water. The bags in the foreground are the familiar
“tellis” of the Northern Sahara. They are made of camel’s hair,
are very strong, and are used to carry dates.]
The only thing to do was to strike in the direction in which we
knew the “Oued Mya” must lie, and then follow its course up
towards the well which lay in its bed. As the “oued” wound
about considerably this would lengthen our march a good deal, but
this seemed a more prudent course than to make blind “casts”
in the desert.
As matters turned out, the “Méhariste” again came to the rescue
when day dawned. He rode out at a trot some distance in advance of
the caravan, to scout, and, after an hour or so, he returned with
the information that he could find the well, without the need for
further lengthening our march. He acted up to his promise, and we
thus did not go more than some ten miles out of our way. After this
our journey was accomplished without further incident to Ouargla,
where we arrived on June 29th.
The day before our arrival we passed a small oasis, in which
there lived an influential Arab chief. This man invited me to have
breakfast with him. Knowing that he would be hurt if I refused,
and also that it would be considered, by the custom of the country,
that I wished to insult him if I did not accept his hospitality,
I agreed to come.
My heart misgave me when I saw the nature of the feast provided.
There were several huge dishes of oily-looking food, the contents
of which could only be guessed at. One looked less uninviting than
the others. It consisted of rice with some spices, so I hastily
indicated that I would take some of that. But I soon discovered
that I was not to get off so easily. I was expected to partake of
all the dishes. Moreover, if I did not help myself liberally, some
hospitably-inclined follower of the chief would fill up my plate
for me. I groaned inwardly at the thought of having to eat these
horrible-looking things. Finally, I said I was ill after my long
travels and could not eat well, so I hoped the chief would excuse
my small appetite. But the repast was not yet finished. A whole
sheep roasted was now produced. This is prepared in some strange
fashion, being well ladled with oil and covered with chili peppers,
and is the _pièce de résistance_ at an Arab feast. It is called a
“meshoui.” All this time the chief was eating with great gusto,
and what he could not himself consume he handed to his followers,
of whom there must have been at least half a dozen present. Their
manner of eating was anything but pleasant to watch, especially
when I was feeling far from well after partaking of some of these
horrible dishes.
It took me a long time to recover from the effects of that meal,
and I vowed that at the risk of offending the whole of the Arab
race, never again would I consent to touch one of their repasts.
When I related this story to the officers at Ouargla they laughed
heartily, but said they did not wonder at my being ill!
The country all round Ouargla for many miles is soft sand and
undulating. The oasis itself lies in a basin surrounded by low
sand-hills. There are about 3000 sedentary inhabitants, and in
the date season this number is increased by nomads who come in for
dates as they do at Insalah. Ouargla is famed for its fine dates.
These are of the best quality, viz. the “deglet-nour.” Large
quantities are exported every year to Biskra, whence they are sent
to Europe.
[Illustration: THE MOSQUES AT OUARGLA
These narrow, tall mud towers are ascended by a steep and tortuous
stairway. At the summit is a small platform on to which the
“muezzin” climbs when he summons the faithful to prayer. These
Arabs are one and all fervent Mohammedans; a mixture of creeds such
as obtains in India finds no favour with them. The European is to
them a Christian dog whose presence is only tolerated because he
is feared.]
From Ouargla to Insalah it was 390 miles, and we had covered this
distance in fifteen days, without halting for more than a few
hours at a time. This was pretty good going, and our camels were
now showing decided signs of fatigue. I was anxious to move again
as soon as possible, as time was getting very short. There were
still 100 miles of desert between us and Touggourt. I therefore
only stayed two days in order to enable the guide to change the
tired camels, and on the 1st of July we again set forth.
Between Ouargla and Touggourt there are wells almost every day,
and except for the heat there was nothing very trying in the
marches compared with what had gone before. I was now travelling
very light. I had discarded my tent and bed as useless. My stock of
provisions was very low, and at Ouargla I had given away a lot of
ammunition, so that now my effects were not numerous. One baggage
camel amply sufficed for my needs. On the 3rd of July we arrived
at the oasis of Touggourt.
The signs of better accommodation and more comforts in the everyday
existence of the inhabitants had been already apparent at Ouargla,
but at Touggourt this was all the more so. Indeed, from Ouargla
the telegraph runs across the desert to Touggourt and the north,
while at Touggourt itself there are such signs of civilization as a
small hotel and, of course, the coach to Biskra. At both these towns
the Europeans live in well-built houses, some of which are of stone.
At Touggourt I enjoyed the real luxury of a douche. The officers
there have an ingeniously contrived douche in their gardens,
which is fed by an artesian well. The joy of a proper bath was
really indescribable.
Touggourt is already within touch of civilization, for tourists,
or a few of the most enterprising among them, come here by the
coach in the Biskra season, and put up at the curious little hotel
of which the place boasts.
From the top of the big mosque at Touggourt a splendid view is
to be had over the desert. I went up there one day with a French
officer to have a good look at the desolate region in which I had
spent so many days.
I now counted my journey as practically finished.
On the 5th of July I took the coach to Biskra, where we arrived
early on the 7th. The coach consists of a ramshackle vehicle,
holding three people on the front and three on the back seat. For
the first sixty-six miles it is drawn by mules, and for the last
eighty-six miles the team consists of three ponies. The track is
well defined, but rather heavy going through deep, soft sand.
Sometimes the passengers have to get out and help to extricate
the cart from the ruts into which it has sunk. The traveller gets
well shaken up on the journey, but after a long ride on camels one
hardly noticed that. The French sergeant accompanied me as far as
Biskra. Biskra did, indeed, mean civilization. Here there was the
railway to Algiers, and the fatigues of travelling were made easy.
At Biskra there are some six or seven hotels, all of which were
empty when I passed through. The season is in the winter, and
at that time of year a considerable number of people visit this
outpost of civilization. Date palms are numerous, and all water is
still obtained from wells. But at Biskra there is no lack of water
close to the surface of the ground. At Touggourt the water is so
salt that all Europeans have to drink it distilled, but this is
not necessary at Biskra.
This oasis is a beautiful spot. Amongst a grove of palms will be seen
a pretty little house, by the side of which is a garden well stocked
with beautiful green shrubs and flowers. All irrigation is easy here,
as water is so plentiful. Hence the contrast as one emerges from
the desert into this paradise of verdure and colour is very striking.
I spent only two hours at Biskra. I had just time to don my one
and only flannel suit after drinking a cup of coffee, and pay my
respects to the officer in command of the garrison, when I had to be
back at the railway station, for my train left at 8.30 that morning.