KUFRA: ITS PLACE ON THE MAP
_Friday, April 6._ The day began with the arrival of an immense bowl
of roses, gloriously fragrant, sent by Sayed El Abid. This is the way
the desert belies its name every now and then. I defy the Riviera to
produce anything finer than these, or more fragrant.
It was Friday, the Moslem Sabbath, and I attended prayers at the
mosque. The young Senussi princes were expected, and some of the
Bedouins came in their best clothes, but side by side with the richest
of silk _kuftans_ were the shabbiest _jerds_. Every one took off his
slippers as they came in. I watched them for a while. There came a
prosperous Zwaya or Majbari merchant with the crease still fresh in
rich robes just removed from the chest, and _kohl_ in his eyes, put in
with a _madwid_ (_kohl_ stick) of ivory or brass. The prosperous man,
maybe, has everything upon him new, and he smells strongly of scent,
perhaps pure rose-water distilled in Kufra, or else musk or other
strong perfume from the Sudan. He enters in a dignified way and takes
his place. There comes another, and his _jerd_ is tattered and his face
bronzed and withered, not flabby, but he is no less dignified. Clothes
play but a small part in this assembly because of the natural dignity
and courage of these people, and those qualities are brought out in
relief even more by the tattered _jerd_ than by the fine silks and
scents, which sometimes take away something of the personality of
the individual.
A slave comes. He is the favorite slave and confidant of one of the
Senussi chiefs. His silks are as rich and even more vivid, and there
is little to suggest servility. He feels his importance and walks
with equally dignified grace through the ranks of the worshipers to
take his place, maybe next to a dignitary, maybe next to a beggar. At
the mosque the poor not only stand on level ground with the rich and
the prosperous, but in a subtle way they have their revenge, for in
the house of God the master is God and the beggar may feel as great
or greater than the rich man since he is not submerged in the luxury
of the world and forgetting God. The old and shabby _jerd_ is, to the
Bedouin going into the mosque, as fit a garment for worship as silken
brocades are proper raiment for a man going to see the Senussi chiefs.
The worshipers are now ready. The _muezzin_ has finished the call to
prayer. There is a hush. The young Senussi princes are entering the
mosque. They take the places that have been reserved for them. All
eyes turn toward them, and, on account of their youth, they look a
little shy and embarrassed. No one rises as they enter, for this is
the House of God, wherein God alone is the master. Then the _imam_
mounts the pulpit and delivers his sermon. On the few occasions that I
have been able to attend Friday prayers in an oasis mosque, the theme
of the sermon has often been the same, advising the congregation to
shun the world and its luxury and to prepare for a life of happiness
in the next world by doing good. “Beware of the ornaments and the
luxuries of this world, for they are very enticing. Once you fall a
victim to them you lose your soul and stray farther from God. Draw
nearer to God by doing good deeds and obeying his commands. This life
will pass away. Only the next world is everlasting. Prepare yourselves
for it, that you may be happy in eternity.”
The interior of this mosque is beautiful in the simple dignity of
its lines. The walls are bare, whitewashed, scrupulously clean. The
floor is covered with rugs or with fiber matting. The worshipers
squat cross-legged upon the floor in a very reverent attitude. There
are perhaps two hundred of them, ranged in rows, all facing toward
Mecca. There are some who count their prayers upon rosaries of amber
beads; others, too poor to have rosaries, record the number of their
prayers by opening and closing their fingers. There are some whose
every movement betrays opulence and prosperity; others, Bedouins of
the desert, have a far-away look. The most striking impression is
the serenity and contentment written on their faces. Even upon the
pinched and haggard face there is an expression of equanimity which
shows that the man has accepted his fate. It is written there that
he is living on the verge of starvation, yet he does not rebel.
After lunch at El Abid’s, Soliman Bu Matari came again to talk
about the trip south. He reported that Bu Helega and Mohammed, who
was to be our guide, had met and talked things over, but Bu Helega
was still unwilling to go.
Abdullahi had spent the day at Jof, gathering what information he
could about the Ouenat route and trying to find out if the Tebus
would let me hire camels from them for the journey thither.
After dinner at El Abid’s, I spent some time in Sayed Idris’s
library, which he had instructed Jeddawi to throw open to me.
Imagine a room of medium size filled with chests containing books. The
ceiling is decorated in vivid colors, the work of an artist, a lover
of the Senussis, who came from Tunis simply to do them a service,
just as in medieval Europe painters and sculptors devoted their
lives to adorning churches. Every bit of wood in the room has come
from Egypt or Benghazi. There is a window open to the air with only
wooden shutters as a protection against the sun.
[Illustration: AT ARKENU
Hidden in the heart of the desert are these strange picturegraphs]
[Illustration: THE MOST IMPORTANT DISCOVERY MADE AT OUENAT
Rock drawings found in the valley chiseled on the granite rock. The
drawings are similar to those found in Egypt of prehistoric age. There
are drawings of giraffes, gazelles of every kind, lions, ostriches,
cattle, but none of the camel, yet no traveler can reach this oasis
now except with the camel because of the absence of water on the
route and of any grains which could make the journey possible for
a donkey or a horse. The remains of routes found in the Egyptian
oasis west of the Nile Valley point toward the oasis of Ouenat, and
it is probable that in the old times the route from the Mediterranean
coast to central Africa was through this oasis and not through Kufra,
as is the case now.]
It is not easy to move about, for books and chests of books are ranged
along the walls and in the middle of the room as well.
There are many very ancient chests used as cup-boards and at the
same time fitted with attachments at the sides which enable them to
be straightway loaded upon a camel in case of need. The library is
somewhat out of order, books piled carelessly one on top of another,
for Sayed Idris has long been absent. There is a great number of
manuscripts inclosed in beautifully tooled morocco covers. There are
modern books printed in Cairo and in India. There are manuscripts from
Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia. With the exception of a few books in the
Persian language, all are in Arabic. There are two or three manuscripts
of the Koran illuminated in gold. It was a great privilege for me to
be allowed to go into this library, for as a rule no one is admitted.
I found many manuscripts laboriously written on ancient parchment,
works on philosophy, the Arabic language, theology, Sufism, a few on
poetry and mysticism, another on talismans and magic. Many were the
interesting and pleasant hours that I spent among the collection. The
surroundings and the atmosphere were just right; so remote, so many
miles from the world, one felt in the mood to absorb the thought to
be found in these manuscripts. Sit in a comfortable chair in the
midst of civilization and try to read such books; one ring of the
telephone would be enough to make them appear archaic.
_Saturday, April 7._ A fine pair of shoes came as a present from
Sharrufa. The chiefs of the Zwayas came to pay me another visit. We
talked over our coffee about Zwaya history. I learned that it was
not the Zwayas who first conquered Kufra from the Tebus, but the
Ghawasi and Jahama tribes. The names of two of the Kufra villages,
Tollab and Zurruk, are family names of the Jahama tribe.
I gave each of my visitors a photograph of the group which I had
taken several days before, and they were delighted with them.
I realized to the full that day the perils of Kufra. Rohlfs almost
lost his life here by violence; I almost lost mine by kindness. I
lunched prodigally at El Abid’s, as usual, and the meal was
followed by coffee, three glasses of tea, with amber, rose-water,
and mint, and three glasses of milk enriched with almond pulp. Then
Sharrufa insisted that I should come to his house and offered me
three glasses of perfumed tea, followed again by three glasses of
almond-flavored milk. I reflected that to refuse was to offend,
and gulped down the beverages, which, by now, had become somewhat
nauseating. The end was not yet. Shams El Din hauled me off to his
house and set before me biscuits and nuts and a huge glass of sweet
syrup. It was almost more than flesh and blood could endure, but—to
refuse was to offend. There followed three glasses of coffee, but I
stalked forth with all the dignity of a man going to the gallows or
the Spartan boy with the fox gnawing at his vitals.
As I lay down in my room to recuperate, many thoughts surged
through my brain. Would that the Bedouin, whoever he was, who
selected “three” as the mystic number to characterize desert
hospitality, had died unborn! But it was lucky that he did not hit
on seven instead of three. I came to the desert perfectly prepared
for destruction by the hand of nature or hostile men, but the idea
of perishing through indigestion did not commend itself to my sense
of the fitness of things.
And yet, at the proper time, I went to El Abid’s again for
dinner. Some of the Bedouin chiefs were my fellow-guests, and once
more the route to the southward was discussed. Bu Helega persisted
in his refusal to go by way of Ouenat.
“The conditions laid down by Sayed Idris,” he said, “call
for a journey to Wadai and not to Darfur.” He would send neither
his camels nor his men that way. I argued like a lawyer that since
he had contracted to provide thirty-five _marhalas_—or days’
journeys—from Kufra southward, it should make no difference to him
whether I use those _marhalas_ to go to Wadai or to El Fasher or back
to Egypt. He was unconvinced by this ingenious reasoning, but when
he realized that I was determined, that El Abid was not opposed to
my plan, and that I was willing to take fewer camels than originally
stipulated, he gave a reluctant consent. But he would not go himself
or send his men.
_Sunday, April 8._ The affair of Bu Helega’s horse came to a head. I
bought him for thirty-three pounds. He was sturdy and a splendid
traveler, needing to drink only every second day.
After luncheon I took El Abid’s photograph and had a long talk
with him about his malady, which he bore with true Bedouin fortitude,
about conditions in Cyrenaica and Egypt, and about my plans for the
trip to the Sudan.
I had had bad luck with my scientific work at Kufra. I did not find
it easy to escape surveillance and to move about unattended or to use
my instruments without arousing suspicion. What was worse, it had
been cloudy every day since I arrived there, and I had been unable
to take observations of the sun or Polaris with the theodolite.
[Illustration: WHITE SAND VALLEY AND EXPLORER’S CAMP
A view of the inhabitants of Ouenat, the second oasis discovered by
the explorer]
After dinner I was thoroughly tired. I had used up all the indigestion
tablets which I brought with me. I felt that it would be a relief to
get back to the simplicity of the open desert again.
_Monday, April 9_, was still cloudy, but a cool breeze was blowing. I
spent a quiet day, reading in Idris’s library, developing a few
films, and buying _girbas_ and barley for the journey. Sayed El Abid
gave me copies, written with his own hand, of letters by El Mahdi to
various _ikhwan_. He made me presents of a Moorish knife in a silver
scabbard and a flint-lock pistol also beautifully inlaid.
_Tuesday, April 10._ The clouds cleared away in the afternoon, and
I took photographs of the valley. I arranged with the shoemaker for
shoes for myself and my men, and for bandoliers, which the men insisted
on having, in view of the alarming rumors they had been hearing.
I met Mohammed Sukkar, who was to be our guide over the Ouenat route,
for the first time, and liked him.
_Wednesday, April 11._ El Abid had heard of my purchase of Bu
Helega’s horse and sent me a Tuareg sword and an Italian carbine,
to carry when I ride him.
At last I was able to make observations with my theodolite. I was
anxious to see how my results would agree with those of Rohlfs.
_Thursday, April 12._ I sent Sayed El Abid my shot-gun as a gift.
In the afternoon I rode with Sayed Mohammed Bu Tamanya and Zerwali
to Jof. We were met by the chiefs of the village. I visited the
_suk_, where the weekly market was being held, the _zawia_, which
is the oldest Senussi school in Kufra, and the mosque. Jof is the
trade-center of Kufra. It was interesting to find side by side in
the _suk_ rifle-cartridges whose marking showed them to be thirty
years old, Italian tomato sauce in tins from Benghazi, blue and white
calico made in Manchester and imported from Egypt, and leather, ivory,
and ostrich-feathers from Wadai. These products of the south, however,
are not plentiful now in Kufra, except when a merchant who has brought
them from Wadai is prevented for some reason from going on to the
north to sell them in Egypt or Cyrenaica. Kufra had seen its best
days as a trade-center before the occupation of the Sudan. Then it
was easier to find an outlet for the products of Wadai and Darfur
through Kufra than by way of the country to the east. Even now,
however, there is a contraband trade through Kufra in female ivory
and ivory of less than fourteen pounds weight, the exportation of
which is prohibited by the Sudan Government.
In addition to the trade that passes through Kufra, most of the big
Zwaya chiefs who have enough slaves go in for agriculture. They raise
barley and maize. The Senussis are more progressive and grow melons,
grapes, bananas, marrows, and other vegetables of the more delicate
kinds, all of which are a great treat after the monotonous fare of the
desert. They raise mint and roses, from which they make the rose-water
and mint essence so essential in their ceremonies of hospitality. From
a few olive-trees some olive-oil is produced in primitive presses. The
animals of Kufra are camels, sheep, donkeys, and a few horses. Meat,
however, is very expensive, as there is little grazing for sheep in the
valley. The animals are fed on pounded date-stones, which do very well
as a staple diet. But some green stuff is necessary at intervals. The
Senussis, who are in everything more progressive than their neighbors,
raise chickens and pigeons.
The price of slaves, I learned at Kufra, has risen a great deal during
the last few years because there are no more slaves coming up from
Wadai on account of the vigilance of the French authorities in that
province. Occasionally the Bedouins get round this by contracting a
marriage with a slave-girl in Wadai and then, when they come back,
divorcing and selling her. On one of my travels in 1916 I was offered
a slave-girl for six gold louis (120 francs); now the price varies
from thirty to forty pounds. A male slave costs less. The Bedouins
sometimes marry their slave-girls, and if one of these bears a male
child she automatically becomes free. The Bedouins have no prejudice
against color; that is, if a slave bears the head of a tribe his
eldest male child, that child ipso facto becomes in his turn the head
of the tribe, however black he may be. Whereas the children of slaves
are slaves, the child of a slave-girl and a free man, however poor,
is always free, and even though his father dies and he is left an
orphan, he can never be a slave. The lot of a favorite male slave
especially is preferable. They have more power and are taken more
into the confidence of their masters than free men. They are very
well treated and become members of the family. They are well dressed,
for an ill-dressed slave reflects badly on his master, just as a
shabby footman would detract from the glory of a millionaire’s
Rolls-Royce. The favorite slave of Sayed Idris, Ali Kaja, is not
only the most trusted man of Sayed Idris, but he has more power and
authority among the Bedouins themselves than many a free man. Such a
slave is treated as a confidant. If the slave of Sayed El Abid came to
me with a message, I took it to be absolutely true, knowing that it
is his duty to report exactly what he is told. In the same way, if I
wished something to reach the ears of Sayed El Abid, and only his ears,
I knew that I could tell it without a moment’s hesitation to his
slave and be perfectly confident that it would not go anywhere else.
[Illustration: THE CARAVAN ARRIVING AT OUENAT]
A man slave is permitted to buy a slave-girl. Once when I asked
Ali Kaja about the price of slaves, he complained: “They are very
expensive nowadays. The other day I bought one, and she cost me forty
pounds in golden sovereigns.” He said it with such an air that he
might never have been a slave himself.
The shabbiest slave that you see in an oasis is generally the freed
slave, who curiously enough is looked down upon by the other owned
slaves, and himself feels ashamed that he is a freed slave and belongs
to no one!
There are many date-trees all through the Kufra Valley, and many of
them belong to the Senussis. When the Zwayas invited Sidi Ibn Ali
El Senussi to come to Kufra, each one of them gave the Senussis one
third of his property, land, and date-trees. The proportion of two
to one between the date-trees owned by the Zwayas and those of the
Senussis has, however, in the years since then, been considerably
altered in favor of the Zwayas. These regular inhabitants of the
valley naturally planted new trees faster and thus increased their
own holdings. One can still see in the valley the walls separating
the Senussi lands from those of the Zwayas.
On our way back from Jof we met a wedding party. The officer commanding
the troops at Kufra was being married, and the father of the bride
invited me to “empty gunpowder” in honor of the occasion. I
was glad to pay a compliment to the officer, who was an old friend
of mine, and, when they fired their guns in salute, in good Bedouin
style I rode my horse at a gallop up to the party, pulled him to a
sudden halt in front of the bride, and fired my gun into the ground
before her. It was astonishing how Baraka, the moment he heard the
sound of the guns, took to the gallop and brought me at a rush within
the prescribed distance for firing. It was all a part of his training.
_Friday, April 13._ A slave of Sayed Idris came to be treated for an
illness which had lasted for two months. It seemed to be a digestive
upset, with continual vomiting. I gave him ether on a piece of sugar,
milk, and rice, and by evening he was better.
Bu Helega arrived from Hawari with seventeen camels. I told him to
complete the twenty-five we had agreed upon.
I received a visit from the bridegroom and his father-in-law, who
came to thank me for the compliment I paid the wedding procession.
_Saturday, April 14._ Bu Helega brought the rest of the camels. He
was in a dilemma about sending a man with us. He did not wish to
send his son, or even a slave, on such a hazardous journey which none
of us might get through alive. On the other hand, there was the off
chance that Fate might be good to us and let us escape. In that case,
remote though it seemed to him, if he had no representative with us,
how should he get his camels back, or rather their value? For it
would be the natural thing to sell them at the end of the trip.
The afternoon was spent in packing and the evening in making
observations. The weather was now more gracious. This was only the
third night since reaching this spot that I had been able to see
Polaris. I determined that I would not leave Kufra until I had made
at least twice as many observations on different nights.
_Sunday, April 15._ The morning was spent in loading. Bu Helega was
still in a quandary about sending a man with us. But since I had the
camels it did not make any particular difference to me what he decided.
The slave whom I had been treating was astonishingly improved in
health. He came to thank me. No one was more surprised than I at what
I had been able to do for him.
At two the caravan set out for Ezeila, the last well of Kufra Valley
on the south. There we were going to do _tag-heez_ properly, taking
several days for perfecting our final preparations. I had bought two
sheep for Bu Zafar, as none of us had made this journey before.
All my men had been newly clothed and made a cheerful sight,
in spotless white with red shoes. Their carefully cleaned rifles
glittered as they hung on their backs. Most of the new camels looked
fresh and strong.
_Monday, April 16._ Abdullahi took the horse to Taj for shoeing, as I
found that the stony ground was too hard for him. I sent a brass tray
to the commandant as a wedding present, and the last three bottles of
Bovril to Idris’ sick slave. Our departure was postponed because
the guide was still occupied before the _kadi_ with a legal matter
over a camel.
_Tuesday, April 17._ I had breakfast at Soliman Bu Matari’s in
Jof with Zerwali, Abdullahi, the commandant, Saleh, and Mohammed Bu
Tamania. The rest poked fun at the commandant because, being a new
bridegroom, he would not partake of a dish cooked with onions. “They
do not forgive when they are young,” said Bu Tamania, winking at
the commandant.
[Illustration: THE VALLEY OF ERDI
The red rocks and rose-colored sand are the peculiarity of that region]
I bought a _hejin_, or trotting-camel, for my own use, paying nine
pounds for it. We were at last ready for the start the next day.
As I made my last observation of Polaris, I had a strong hope that
I should have succeeded in putting Kufra into its proper place
on the map. I had been keen to check Rohlfs’s determination of
the position of Kufra, which he made from the observations of his
companion Stecker at Boema. Taj had not been built in Rohlfs’s
day. When I made my first observations at Taj, I discovered that they
were not in agreement with the results of Stecker’s observations
at Boema, which is two kilometers from Taj in a direction 54° east
of true south. I thereupon determined that I would not leave Kufra
until I had secured a sufficient number of observations to preclude
the possibility of any appreciable error. Polaris was observed with
the theodolite by me on six different nights, under conditions which
Dr. Ball, in his scholarly paper on my work published at the end of
this volume, declares to leave no room for an error greater than a
single minute of latitude or longitude.
The net result of my observations, when they were finally reduced
after my return to Egypt, was that Kufra is some forty kilometers
south-southeast of the position assigned to it by Rohlfs from
Stecker’s observations. I found the altitude of Kufra to be almost
precisely the same as that ascertained by Rohlfs, 400 meters for
Boema, on the floor of the valley, and 475 meters for Taj on the
valley’s ridge.