AUGILA and JALO. اوجله and جالوا. — Group of
Oases. — The Majabra Arabs. — The Sultan of Waday. — Turkish
Drunkards. — Inconveniences of Travel.
_November_ 17.—The palm groves extend for more than three miles
in a curved hollow to the town of Augila, and nearly as much beyond
it, forming almost a half circle of verdure. The fertile part of
the oasis is considerably beneath the level of the surrounding
country, so that the water being nearer the surface, the roots of
the palm trees, which pierce downwards to a great depth, reach it,
and thus obtain their nourishment. The town is built on a slight
elevation, nearly equidistant from the two furthest points of the
oasis. It is surrounded by a thin mud wall, some twelve feet high,
but not more than nine or ten inches thick; this wall is in a most
delapidated condition, in several places entirely destroyed, and
in others worn into innumerable holes. Six gate towers of equally
substantial architecture give entrance to the long and tortuous
lanes of the capital.
Sheikh Othman-el-Fadil, the hereditary Sheikh of Augila, and the
Kehia who happened to be in the town, came to my tent as soon as
I arrived. The former I had seen in Benghazi, and he showed me
every attention, convenient and inconvenient, in his power, by
way, probably, of asserting his right to the family name, which
means “the complaisant.” I returned the Governor’s visit,
and thus had an opportunity of seeing “the castle,” which is
situated near the great mosque—a not less ruinous structure than
the external walls. It is composed of several very small courts with
recesses, which serve as sleeping or store rooms; the open court,
in which are mastabahs—mud divans covered with carpets—is the
place of reception. The Governor either could not or would not tell
me the number of inhabitants, or even of the houses, saying they
were written in the Deftar, the domesday-book of Benghazi; and,
in fact, he seemed quite determined that it should not be in my
power to quote him as giving any information dangerous to the State.
I looked into the principal mosque in passing; like all the other
buildings it is of mud and small stones, with many low columns
and arches of the same material; the roof being formed of small
conical cupolas like sugar loaves, some of which are four feet in
diameter, and eight or ten in height. This is the consecrated style
of building for the mosques, of which there are fourteen. From
the best information I could obtain, it seemed that the number of
inhabited houses was under 500. The Kehia, an Arab of Benghazi,
only comes here once a year, and then to collect the tribute; his
visit ended, the Wagily, as the inhabitants of Augila are called,
are left to follow their own devices. The Sheikh has a traditionary,
but no legal authority; if crimes occur, his duty is to report them
to the Bey of Benghazi, and wait for orders before sending the
offenders with the witnesses to the Bey for judgment. Of course,
with such a system, the only check upon crime and violence is in the
natural disposition of the people, or in the fear of blood feuds;
recourse is, indeed, rarely or never had to the distant and doubtful
justice thus to be sought in Benghazi.
The inhabitants of these oases indulge greatly in a
slightly-intoxicating drink, derived from the palm tree. Sheikh
Othman, who himself professes not to indulge in this forbidden
luxury, was so obliging as to take me to one of his gardens to
see the method by which it is obtained. The tree is stripped of
its branches, and the crown cut off, so as to lay bare the heart;
a small drain is then cut in the edge, to which the mouth of a
jar is applied, and for months the tree yields its daily tribute
of _lagby_. From time to time the crust is cut from the wound to
facilitate the flow of the juice; for this purpose an instrument is
used, in shape like a horse fleam, tied at right angles to a handle
of wood. After three or four months, the wound is generally closed;
the tree does not yield fruit for some years after this exhausting
process, and will die if the wound be left too long open. It seemed
to me, however, that the tree never recovers its stately appearance,
but ever in after life has a debauched, drunken look about its
branches, indicative of its former intemperate habits. The drink
itself is of a milky white colour; on the first day it is drawn, it
is sweet, like the milk of the cocoa-nut; on the second, acid and
slightly vinous; and, on the third, it is already vinegar. Though
drinkable in large draughts in the second stage, when it has only a
slightly acid taste, it is still a poor substitute for the smallest
small beer. The Wagily are rich in about 16,000 date trees, and
their gardens produce gourds, melons, tomatos, and onions, with a
small quantity of kesab and barley.
I next day continued my journey to Jalo, where I hoped to make
arrangements for my further progress. On the same day that I left
Benghazi, a Turk, dependant on the Kaimahan, set off for Jalo, to
take the census of the date trees, on which the taxes are levied;
the result of the last one having been unsatisfactory to a large
party of the inhabitants. He was accompanied by Yunes, one of the
sheikhs, who had given me every promise of assistance, though not
disguising the difficulty I should probably find in pursuing my
original plan, which was to go to the Koffra, and thence eastwards
towards the Nile. Such a route was quite new to the Majabra, and
no one would venture to join me in exploring it; I could not even
find any one willing to accompany me to Gebabo, كبابو. The
Zowayah had already returned; after whom parties of Tibbus often
visit these oases to glean the fruit which remains on the date trees.
Jalo, 28 miles, or eight hours E.S.E. from Augila, is by far the
most important in this group of oases; the name, now restricted
to the first, was probably in ancient times applied to the whole
group. The oases, according to the earliest accounts we have of
them, contained no fixed inhabitants; the Libyan nomads paid them a
summer visit to gather dates, in the same way that the Zowayah now
go to the Koffra. In the time of the Roman domination of Africa,
they contained a small settlement, which, probably, had been formed
to meet the necessities of the caravans. Jalo is approached by a
hollow, bordered on each side by rows of tamarisks, which gradually
opens into a plain, bounded by low sand hills. On two of them,
facing each other, Leb لب and El’Erg العرق, two villages
of much humbler pretensions than Augila, are built. Each contains
a few mud houses, but the dwellings are mostly huts (zeribah),
constructed of palm branches, generally of a conical form,
eight or nine feet in diameter, and rarely more than seven high
at the apex. The mosques are mere square mud structures, without
any attempt at ornament; and, instead of walls and gate-towers, a
simple palisading of palm branches surrounds each village. Jalo is,
however, more populous than Augila, and a far greater degree, not
of comfort—this is unknown in such places—but of _bien être_,
is found here. This arises not only from the great extent of its
palm groves, but principally from the occupation of its inhabitants,
who are all merchants. They are of different origin from the Wagily,
some speaking Arabic, whilst others, both in appearance and language,
preserve the Berber type. El’Erg contains 4000 inhabitants,
allowing five to a family, which is rather above than below the
average; it contains seven mosques, distinguished only by little
white flags, and is governed by twelve sheikhs. Leb, which is but
half this size, rejoices in only three sheikhs and as many mosques.
I encamped in the plain between the two villages, where I found
Hafiz Effendi’s tent already pitched; he had chosen this central
position by way of proving his impartiality, for there is, of course,
great rivalry between the two places. I took my ground between two
large clumps of tamarisks (ef-teleh), the only vegetation which the
plain presented; their graceful foliage affords a relief to the eye,
the small crystals of salt with which it is covered giving it an
ashy gray colour; here, then, was an imperfect representation of the
three Turkish elements of happiness—a bright eye, a green shade,
and a running stream. The tamarisk clumps were the only variety in
the monotonous yellow which surrounded me on every side, for the
date groves are only visible at a distance in one direction. It
would be possible to render the whole of this plain productive,
but the Majabra have too little taste for agriculture to take the
necessary trouble. About three feet beneath the sand is found a
layer of whitish clay, which, when uncovered and watered, yields
crops of barley, wheat, and a few vegetables; but the labour required
for this is great. The people are addicted to an idle roving life,
and as the date-trees produce abundant harvests, almost without
care, other cultivation is very much neglected. The dates are of an
inferior quality to those of Augila, but they afford the principal
article of food, not only to man, but also for all his dependent
quadrupeds. Horses, dogs, camel, sheep, are all put on this same
regimen, which Sheikh Yunes pretended was a very wholesome one, but
the blackened jagged teeth, universal here, seemed to contradict him.
The palm groves which surround Jalo contain upwards of 100,000
trees, the tax upon each of which is four Turkish piastres. The
former census only counted 45,000, but the new one, which is now
going on, will raise this number to 65,000, an increase of taxation
produced by the complaints of the people themselves, who are now,
as may be supposed, furious at their own stupidity. For several
evenings after the census began, when the people saw the turn it was
likely to take, the women of the two villages assembled after dark
and filled the air, in alternate chorus, with yelling curses upon
Hafiz Effendi. He allowed them the uninterrupted enjoyment of this
female form of respectful remonstrance, and after a few nights,
either from hoarseness or disgust at finding their eloquence
disregarded, this expression of public opinion was abandoned. I
went two or three times to see the method adopted for taking the
census; nothing could be simpler or more tedious. The commissioners,
surrounded by all the fifteen sheikhs, and the greater part of the
proprietors, male and female, of the plantation they were visiting,
went from place to place, counting and recounting the trees. Every
artifice was put in practice to distract their attention, or to
puzzle the commissioners as to ownership; indeed, this latter was
no difficult matter, for many trees have three or four owners,
or one man’s property is dispersed here and there, through the
whole oasis. A good date-tree will yield three hundredweight of
fruit on alternate years; the produce being generally smaller
in the intervening year. As dates are worth about 20 piastres a
hundredweight, the tax is about a tithe of the produce.
The wells of Jalo are all brackish, and the nearest sweet water is
at a distance of six hours; hither, at rare intervals, the ladies
of the place resort to wash the cotton shirts and woollen plaids,
which are the costume of their lords. The scanty fauna is confined
to the fox, wolf, or jackal, fovina and gerboa. There are snakes,
which are said to be venomous and of large size, but though I offered
backshish I could obtain no specimens of them, either here or at
Augila. Some exuviæ, which I found in a quarry near my tent, at the
latter place, proved the fact of their existence and their size. Of
antiquities I could learn nothing; the subterranean temple, with a
cubical idol, mentioned by some writer, the oldest inhabitants had
never heard of, and the only curiosity which they could point out
to me, was a single large hewn stone, about four miles south-west
of El’Erg, under which they suppose a treasure to be concealed.
The Majabra are, almost without exception, addicted to excessive
drinking, owing, no doubt, to the facility of procuring _lagby_. At
an early age they commence their apprenticeship in trade by
journeys to Benghazi, soon followed by longer courses to Egypt
and Fezzan. They are the great slave-dealers of these countries,
purchasing their human merchandise in Fezzan, from wholesale dealers,
many of whom are Majabra settled there. The latter make every year
an incursion into Bornou, and return with troops of five or six
hundred slaves, which they afterwards sell in retail to the men of
Jalo. The most valuable black slaves are called Fellatah; they have
nearly straight hair, and their features bear little of the negro
type. Their distinctive mark is three slashes on the cheeks and two
on the temples. The gains in this trade are very large, and many
of the Jalese have amassed in it large sums; which sums, however,
they have no means of spending. The women are generally unveiled,
wearing a long blue shirt and a milayah on the head, like the fellah
women in Egypt; they enjoy a good reputation for purity of morals.
Finding myself obliged to renounce all hopes of going to the Koffra,
I contented myself with gathering such information as I could from
those who had been there. The nearest oasis is distant six days’
journey, over a flat sandy desert, unbroken by rock or shrub,
and having no wells. The remaining ones are respectively at a good
day’s journey from each other; the furthest and largest, Gebabo,
قبابوا, being considered twelve days distant. These oases are
totally uninhabited, except in autumn, when the Zowayah proceed from
their summer station, Ijherri, in a body to gather the dates and
figs, which grow there in wild luxuriance. They are represented as
abounding in sweet water, which is obtained in large quantities by
merely scratching a hole in the sand. I was assured that the Koffra
contained no monument of antiquity, and were mere fertile spots,
like some I should see on my journey to the east, inhabited only
by the jackal and wild cow. The Tibbus, as far as I could learn,
are a timid and inoffensive people, not possessing fire-arms, and,
except for the pilgrimage (they are Moslemin), never visiting Jalo
or Siwah. With Fezzan they carry on an insignificant trade, chiefly
in dromedaries (of which they have an excellent breed) and sulphur,
which they exchange on the frontier for cotton, cloths, and beads.
The caravans arriving from Waday reach Gebabo in about forty-two days
from Warah, and having come twelve without water, their camels are
so exhausted that they stop here, and send to Jalo to hire camels
to continue the journey to Benghazi; there they generally spend
six months, buying cottons, coral, paper, and, I think, arms. The
Sultan of Waday is himself the proprietor of the greater part of the
caravan, and in the long intervals between its visits, the Frank
merchants lay in stores of such curiosities or elegancies as his
Wadayan majesty is likely to be pleased with. I heard of a plated
dinner service, which had been ordered by one of them, in hopes the
caravan might arrive this year; at its last departure it conveyed a
carriage to him. The Sultan is said to have began to coin dollars
from a die sent to him from Europe; up to a very recent time the
entire circulation was in Spanish dollars, and writing paper served
in lieu of smaller coins. A fowl is bought with a sheet of writing
paper, six or eight are paid for a sheep—the most original paper
currency. The country is said to be rich in pasturage and arable
land, and two mountains yield copper and iron. No European having
ever visited Waday, its other mineral and vegetable riches are
unknown, though a small quantity of gold dust is collected either
within its frontiers or from the countries to the south. The Sultan
claims to be a sheikh of the family of the Abassides, and was for
many years a refugee in Cairo, where he learned to appreciate the
arts of civilisation. If he still reign, it is not improbable that
a European would be warmly welcomed at his court, but no one could
venture there without having previously obtained his consent. While
in Jalo I heard rumours from Fezzan, to the effect, that he had grown
blind, and had been deposed by his son, a blood-thirsty tyrant, who
soon made himself so hateful to his vizirs and influential men, that
they reinstated the father, who is now only a puppet in the hands
of one of the rival factions warring for the sovereignty. Should
these news be confirmed, or in the doubts which they suggest,
no one could prudently venture into Waday.[8]
The Turkish Government levies at Jalo heavy duties upon the produce
of Waday, 25 dollars on the cantar of ivory (98 lbs.)—a sum more
than its original value, and one dollar a head upon the slaves,
upon whom a further duty of seven dollars and a half is charged
at Benghazi. Those shipped for Constantinople, however, go duty
free, the supply of so necessary a commodity for the capital being
encouraged in every possible way. The Wadayan slaves are amongst
the least intelligent negroes in Africa, and have the reputation
of being thievishly inclined; they are, therefore, the cheapest,
but the profit on their sale is very great, their value at Warah
hardly exceeding a dollar and a half.
Jalo was decidedly not an amusing residence, and my impatience to
continue my journey, when I found that I could only reach Egypt by
way of Siwah, was not diminished by the delays which I half suspected
my friend Yunes of occasioning. In this I did him injustice, for,
even if he intentionally sought means to put off my departure,
after-occurrences lead me to think that he did this in my interest;
of his good-will I had no idea at the time, and I only felt annoyed
at being detained, and certain that some intrigue was at the bottom
of it. He, every day, expected the arrival of his son, who was on
his way from Fezzan with a few slaves for the Egyptian market, and
he wished me to accompany him. For this I had little inclination,
having no wish to join a slave caravan, and, above all, desiring
to be master of my own movements—_Hoc amo quod possum quâlibet
ire viâ_.
I had long exhausted every topic of information upon which the
Jalese could enlighten me, and my only amusement now were the rare
visits of the Sheikh and Hafiz Effendi. At whatever hour they came,
the coffee which was given to them was never the only refreshment
they reckoned upon being treated to, and they never failed to ask for
something stronger. I was provided with a small stock of rum for such
a contingency, being well aware that many of the Turkish _employés_
are eager votaries of the bottle; but, before my departure from Jalo,
my friends had completely exhausted my stock; when they had done so,
I may add, their visits became less frequent. Besides drinking in
my tent—not in my company, for I never joined them—they thought
nothing of asking for a bottle with which to indulge in a private
kef in their own quarters—glad to make something out of the Frank;
they could not plead the excuse of the bottle being a rarity to them,
as they were in constant communication with Benghazi, where the
forbidden drink is plentiful. With us it is shameful for a man out
of his teens to be seen drunk; with them it is only a sin. One day,
during my stay at Grennah, the secretary to the Government, said
to be a most upright man, came to see me; he drank, before, during,
and after dinner, Marsala and brandy to such an extent, that when,
at last, wearied with his meaningless loquacity, I insisted upon his
going to bed in the tent I had prepared for him, he fell flat in the
attempt to rise from the couch, breaking the bottles he had just
emptied; and then it was with difficulty that he allowed himself
to be put to bed by one of my servants. The next day he alluded,
without an appearance of shame, to his evening’s exploit, saying,
if any damage was done, it was not he but the wine that did it. The
great object in getting drunk, (kef they call it,) is to procure the
soundness of sleep which follows, and hence the pleasantest liquor,
in their estimation, is that which has the speediest effect.
I was, in fact, thoroughly tired of my stay in Jalo; and what
rendered it particularly exasperating was the persuasion which
every day took more strongly hold of me—that I was the victim of
a speculation, on the part of these people, to detain me, until,
tired of waiting, I should be ready to subscribe to any terms they
chose to offer me. This idea only made me more determined to refuse
what I knew to be an exorbitant demand. Hafiz Effendi possessed no
authority, and Yunes, if he had any, did not, as I thought, exert
it. After concluding a bargain for camels, at nearly a third more
than the usual price, my men returned the next morning and tried to
extort another dollar; this I refused, and no one, naturally enough,
would incur the ill-will of his people in defence of a stranger,
by obliging them to stick to their bargain. Consequently, in a fit
of unreasonable disgust—unreasonable, for it is always better to
put up with such annoyances in travelling than to subject oneself
to fresh and perhaps more serious ones, only to give proof of a
resolution which people cannot appreciate—I sent off to Augila to
ask Shiekh Othman to provide me with camels to return there, and to
look out for others for my further journey. I had now been a month
in Jalo, and on comparing my expenditure with the state of my purse,
I discovered to my dismay that, thanks to the dearness of everything
here, I could not start without sending to my good friend Mr. Xerri,
in Benghazi, for a fresh supply of the needful. I must do Yunes the
justice to say, that when I announced my determination, he did all
he could to dissuade me from it, offering me, after the things were
already packed for the return to Augila, money, camels, anything. He
felt that I had come there in a sort of way as his guest, and that
leaving him as I did was a slur upon his hospitality. I persisted,
however, in my determination, and in the end was punished for
it as I deserved. I never yet opposed myself to an imposition,
that I did not end by submitting to at least as great a one, and
having all the annoyance without the glory of martyrdom into the
bargain. After each lesson I promise myself to consult, in future,
my real convenience, throwing abstract notions of justice to the
dogs on the next occasion, but I rarely, when the temptation comes,
am able to resist it.