sand, feeding chiefly on scant grass-tufts, where there is little
cover, except an odd acacia, solitary or in a straggling group, and
the sentinel-like _Jiga_, which is the choice tree of the solitudes,
and the favoured shade of game.
It is under such scattered, dwarf-sized trees that Oryx and Addax
are in the habit of resting when the sun is at its height; and it
was then that I had a chance to get within rifle-shot, by manœuvring
to utilise any slight dip in the land, and by crawling or sprawling
long distances flatwise on my “tummy.” By reason of the extreme
openness of the country it was stalking of a high order, and hence
nerve-exciting and engrossing. Specimens for the museum were wanted,
and, although I lost most of the skin from my knees owing to the
cutting nature of the hot, sharp sand, I had one or two glorious
hunts that ended successfully, and made ample compensation.
[Illustration: DORCAS GAZELLE]
White Oryx are killed locally on occasion, by the few Tuaregs and
Beri-Beri who roam the region. They ride them down on horseback in
the following manner.
When an animal is sighted, and chosen as the quarry, the long race
starts, but eventually the Oryx shows the horse a clean pair of
heels. The persistent hunter then follows the tracks in the sand
until the quarry is again sighted, and a second race ensues. At
the end of this struggle of speed the Oryx may break down and
become so hopelessly broken-winded that it is easily approached
and destroyed. Sometimes a third race is necessary, and, on rare
occasions, a fourth. Escape is only possible if the stamina of the
horse is over sorely tried, and the hunter has pity enough to cease
asking more of his mount.
Jackals and Striped Hyenas were plentiful in the neighbourhood of
the game and a few were seen, and tracks of their night prowlings
constantly. I have a note regarding the remarkable strength of
the Hyena. One day, having skinned a large male ostrich, I had the
discarded carcass (not eaten by the natives because its throat had
not been cut, as their Mohammedan religion demands) drawn about forty
yards away from the camp. At dusk a single Hyena came to the carcass
and, to the astonishment of all, commenced to pull it farther away
so that it might enjoy the feast out of danger of its enemies. It
had taken no less than four strong men to drag the same carcass, by
aid of ropes, from camp to the position it occupied—a task this
single Hyena was capable of. I have scaled dead ostrich, and know
that this particular bird weighed in the neighbourhood of 300 lbs.
In the interior of the Sahara there is nothing to compare with the
game to be found on its southern margin. The desert is practically
barren excepting in rare wadis that have sufficient vegetation to
attract a few Dorcas Gazelle, and perhaps a Desert Fox or Wild Cat,
or the like, that feed chiefly on the rodents about the tussock
bottoms.
But the mountain regions are havens to a certain amount of animal
life, and it is there that one finds the Arui, or Barbary Sheep. In
Aïr they are sufficiently rare—because of the altitudes they
frequent and the wildness of the mountains, not because of their
numbers—to make the quest for them highly interesting. In Ahaggar
they are very scarce.
Wild and keen-sensed in sight and hearing, and in difficult country,
these mountain sheep are fine animals to hunt, from the point of
view of the sportsman. They live in magnificently wild fastnesses,
and are truly superb creatures; particularly when caught at eve or
dawn poised on the precarious pinnacles of the world, sniffing the
wind and inquiring the dangers of the crags beneath them.
But they are never seen unless diligently searched for, and, on
account of the wild nature of their haunts, hunting them is strenuous
in the extreme. They hide in the cool depths of caves and cairns
through the day and venture out toward dusk to feed all through
the night. At dawn they again seek shelter. Coolness and darkness
appear necessary to their existence; heat and sunlight they avoid.
When I had come to comprehend their habits I more or less adapted
my life to theirs in hunting them. I sought the hills, toward
dusk, with rifle and blanket, to pick my way steadily up into the
mountain-tops, sometimes sighting sheep on the way; then sleeping
in some sheltered nook on the summit, till the quest was renewed
at the first hint of dawn.
The wild ruggedness of the country is unbelievable until one is
actually in amongst the endless range of valleys and slopes that
are thick with the disordered rocks and gigantic boulders that
make up the crags and corries and cairns which meet one on every
side. The hunter requires to be nimble as a cat to leap and step
quietly in such surroundings, and _noiselessness is essential_ if
the keen-sensed Arui is to be successfully approached. Wherefore one
must go barefooted or with soft-soled shoes, and in consequence feet
and shins suffer many bruises and jars on the hard, cruel rocks,
particularly in travelling when it is very dark. I had no serious
accident in those wild hills; only a few minor ones. I once lost
the nail of a big toe through a stone giving way and turning over
to pin my foot beneath it. On another occasion, through my attention
being distracted by movement below, I stepped into space, and had an
ugly fall, which was not lightened by my efforts to save my precious
rifle. But miraculously no bones were broken, though knees, arms,
hands, and face bled so freely that anyone might have thought I
was a proper ambulance case.
I was particularly anxious to secure good examples of the Arui of
Aïr, which had not been collected by anyone before (which, as a
new subspecies, has since been named _Ammotragus lervia angusi_
(Rothsch.) in my honour). Hence I spent many nights in the lone
mountains and laid my head to rest in some wild, eerie spots,
unknown to the eyes of men. It was a wonderful experience to be all
night high up in the great mountains, and to watch the final lights
of eve, and dawn. Indeed, I came to know these hills in another
complexion. From afar I had always thought them frowning and black,
while now I discovered them soft smoke blue in the mornings, and
shades of mauve when touched with the late evening sun.
Dawn is the most favourable hour for hunting. It is then that
the Arui ascend the steep and bouldered mountain slopes from wild
corries where they have been browsing overnight, on a scattering of
hardy shrubs and wiry grass, to seek dark resting-place for the day
among great cairns near the summits where the air remains cool and
shade complete. And that is the time when the hunter has a chance
to intercept them on the way to their lairs.
[Illustration: AN AARDVARK OR ANT-BEAR]
As a rule, I found them difficult animals to secure, but was greatly
aided in hunting them latterly, by coming to realise a curious trait
of theirs, which was, that _if a sheep was sighted looking intently
from a prominence in a certain direction it would, when it moved,
surely travel in that direction_. Wherefore, by making a detour,
it was possible sometimes to intercept the quarry without stalking
it directly.
I have seen fairly young mountain sheep in January, and
believe they are dropped about the season when rains may occur,
viz. August-September.
The Arui were found in Aïr at any altitude between 2,000 and 5,000
feet; but in the hottest season of the year, which reaches its
climax about July, they are prone to abandon the lower altitudes
and live altogether in the high summits, where it is coolest.
If rain falls at the season it is due they roam widely and come low
down to browse on the short-lived green feeding that soon springs
up. At such times they find pools in almost every ravine, and they
are animals that are very fond of water.
Of the specimens collected all were not weighed. However, 164
lbs. was a good male, and 112 lbs. a fair female. The best horns
measured just over 26 inches. The Tuaregs call the Arui _Afitall_
in Aïr, and _Oudel_ in Ahaggar.
The final aspect I will refer to, regarding the animal life of the
land, is of an ordinary day in the course of travel.
We are camped in the outlying hills of Aïr. It is a region where
there is no winter even in the depth of the year, but in December
and January the nights are bitterly cold.
The caravan sets out at dawn on the journey of the day, and the
smouldering logs of a night-fire are left behind with regret.
We start over a land of sand and rocks, with high-reaching mountain
slopes some miles in the forefront.
It is too early for birds to be showing. Like ourselves, they are
feeling the uncommon cold, and shelter among the bushes on the banks
of the river-beds until the sun grows warm and the land returns to
its accustomed stifling heat.
It is the hour for game to be abroad. In the broken-up valley land
a few beautiful little Dorcas Gazelle, of the colour of the sand,
are seen busy breakfasting on slim, delicate grasses that they search
for in open places. They are the most numerous game in Aïr; unlike
the Mountain Sheep, which in comparison are rare, owing to their
shyness and the nature of their almost inaccessible haunts. These
two animals are the meat-giving game to the few natives of the
land. There is one other—the large and handsome white-flanked
Damas Gazelle, an exceedingly timid animal that is seldom seen in
an ordinary day’s travel.
If I had set out expecting to see much I should have been
disappointed, for hours pass and nothing of unusual consequence
is encountered. But I know Aïr as a lone, deserted land where one
has to be content with little.
I read the trail as the camels move along, particularly when sheets
of sand are spread before me. No one has passed ahead; no print
of camel foot or donkey hoof marks the surface anywhere. The neat
little cloven-hoof prints of Gazelle are fairly numerous and the
feet of Field-mice have drawn countless little daisies on the sand
where they have fed through the night about tussocks of grass.
Other footprints tell where a Short-Eared Hare has loped across the
ground, and I see where a hungry Jackal has picked up the trail and
hurried in pursuit. At a cluster of bush I find the up-turnings of
a Porcupine that has been burrowing and tearing at a shrub-bottom
to feed on its favourite food—the roots of the pale-limbed,
big-leaved bush which the Tuaregs call _Tirza_.
In a shallow, dried-up river-bed the camels are guided clear of
a regular warren of holes scooped out in the night by a Ratel in
search of dormant frogs buried in the sand a foot or two beneath
the surface.
Nearing camping time the caravan reaches a terrace margin and
descends a rocky slope, where the camels have difficulty in picking
their way. A strange, wild valley lies in the unexpected level below,
and a dry river-bed in a deep ravine. It is a drear valley-side,
and the caravan passes on into the ravine below. In a cliff I find a
deep, dark cave, and strike a match to enter it. It proves to be an
old den of Hyenas; their footprints are on the dusty sand and the
floor is littered with the bones of camels and other animals. The
roof of the cave is festooned with the honeycombs of wasps, but
the hives are forsaken.
By this time the journey of the day has drawn to a close, and we
camp to rest and eat, and refresh both man and beast, while my
skinning-table and knives are set ready for the work of the evening
on specimens that, mayhap, shall add to the knowledge of the world.
Altogether, forty-two different species and subspecies of animals
were collected from the Sahara and twenty-two additional varieties
from the Western Sudan, on its southern shores.
In the Sahara the following mammals were collected[20]:
1. Arui, or Barbary Sheep (B)
2. Damas Gazelle (B).
3. Dorcas Gazelle.
4. White Oryx.
5. Addax.
6. Wart Hog.
7. Baboon.
8. Small Mouse-eared Bat.
9. Small White and Brown Bat.
10. Small Long-tailed Bat.
11. Desert Hedgehog.
12. Hausa Wild Cat (A).
13. Desert Wild Cat.
14. Genet.
15. Caracal, or Lynx (B).
16. Rufous Mongoose (B)
17. Striped Hyena.
18. Jackal.
19. Buff Desert Fox (B).
20. Grey Rock Fox (B).
21. Fennec.
22. Ratel (A).
23. Saharan Ground Squirrel (B).
24. Dormouse (A).
25. Long-tailed Naked-soled Gerbil.
26. Hairy-soled Gerbil.
27. Dark Naked-soled Gerbil.
28. Lesser Naked-soled Gerbil.
29. Dwarf Gerbil (A).
30. Large Fawn Gerbil (B).
31. Large Dark Gerbil.
32. Large Rufous-headed Gerbil.
33. Multimanimate Rat (A).
34. Reddish Spiny Rock Mouse (A).
35. Dark Spiny Mouse.
36. Brindled Field Rat (B).
37. Jerboa (B).
38. Porcupine (A).
39. Gundi (A).
40. Short-eared Hare (A).
41. Rock Dassy (A).
42. Aardvark, or Ant Bear.
Twenty-two additional mammals found in the Western Sudan, on the
southern margin of the Sahara, between latitudes 12° and 16°:
43. Korrigum, or Tiang.
44. Red-fronted Gazelle.
45. Small Leaf-nosed Bat.
46. Epauletted Bat.
47. Long-eared Slit-faced Bat.
48. Saharan Hedgehog.
49. Mann’s Shrew.
50. Large White-tailed Mongoose.
51. Jackal.
52. Pallid Fox.
53. Rothschild’s Skunk (near) (A).
54. Large Striped Skunk (near).
55. Ground Squirrel.
56. Naked-soled Gerbil (B).
57. Nigerian Hairy-soled Gerbil (A).
58. Fat-tailed Mouse.
59. Gambian Giant Rat.
60. Buchanan’s Giant Rat (A).
61. Dwarf Mouse.
62. Striped Bush Mouse (A).
63. Brindled Field Rat.
64. West African Porcupine.
[Illustration: A DESERT FOX]
CHAPTER XIV
THE NORTH STAR
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XIV
THE NORTH STAR
_To succeed in crossing the Sahara_ was the one great purpose of
the expedition that stood out before all others from the day of
starting until the end.
Consequently anxious thoughts were ever pointed to the north
throughout the whole period of travel, and in due time it followed
that the North Star became my most significant and constant friend.
It is known to the Tuaregs by the name _Elkelzif_, and on many
occasions I have, with something of pride, told my camel-men, or
explained to strangers of the trail, “Under that star lies my
house”; and so it seemed in its distant, steadfast position. It
became, in fact, the definite symbol of home, the elusive “light”
of a distant land that I must ever endeavour to reach, and when
it showed in the sky it was welcomed almost with affection, and
always as a friend. And these feelings may be understood when it
is remembered that my caravan travelled or lay beneath its guiding
light for over four hundred nights, which is a long time anywhere;
mayhap, oppressively long in the monotony of great solitudes.
Always, through long weary nights, the North Star twinkled in its
steadfast place, with the pointers of “The Plough,” out-stationed
like signposts, seeming to direct the traveller to take notice
and take heart from the countenance of their sovereign light, that
clearly gleamed over the broad highway hung from the roof of heaven.
And, always facing that friendly star, the farther my camels
travelled toward it the nearer I came to the goal; until at long
last great hope arose that my caravan would get through.
It was then May of the second year. The caravan had reached the
Algerian Sahara and was riding hard for rail-head.
But how altered from the start was my little band and its
possessions! It had been composed of thirty-six camels and fifteen
natives at the commencement, in the spring of the previous year;
now all the camels had gone, except Feri n’Gashi, the camel I
rode. Awena, the last of the others, had fallen out on the 16th. Of
the original natives only two remained: Ali, an Arab of Ghat, and
Sakari, a Hausa of Kano. Lack of stamina, sickness, and failure in
courage had claimed the rest at various stages of the journey. Only
two died as the result of the undertaking.
When to me came hope of reaching the goal Sakari’s impression
at the same moment was that he had come so far that he would never
see home again.
During those latter stages it is not too much to say that
Glover (the cinema operator) and I were bubbling over with happy
anticipations. The most discussed subject, next to the thoughts of
those who waited our coming, was our conjectures of the enjoyment
we should have in eating _real food_ again. That which appealed
vastly to both of us was the prospect of _pure white bread and
butter_—no doubt because we had lived so long in a state of
constant sandy grittiness, and had almost forgotten the taste and
the delicious purity of a fresh oven-loaf. Also, during this month,
we had nothing left to eat other than rice and _couscous_.
[Illustration: “EVER HEADING INTO THE NORTH”]
Shortage of food, that had been a grave problem in the past, no
longer worried us, however, and gaily we laughed over the joyous
thought that all those trials would soon be over. We recalled how,
four months ago, the last of luxuries was down to a half-bottle of
whisky and two bars of soap.
And so we plodded steadily over the last lap with big hearts,
forcing the pace toward home over the still unchanging sand, despite
an overpowering desire to sleep in the saddle which now beset us
fitfully, partly because vitality was exhausted and partly because
of the low altitude, which was now almost down to sea-level.
At last only two days and a night of serious travel lay ahead to
Ouargla; thence four days to the rail-head at Touggourt.
South of Ouargla the desert lies in all its bleakness. There is
yet no hint of change, though we know we are creeping swiftly in
upon civilisation, and that an important oasis is almost within a
stone’s-throw, which contains the Headquarters of the Territoire
des Oases.
On May 29th the caravan travelled seven hours before being
interrupted by a sandstorm, which forced us to camp while the sand
drove over us in seething clouds. Even to the end it would seem
that the sands must fight my little band.
When the storm died down in the evening we travelled again for
some hours.
On the following day the caravan journeyed till noon, and camped,
while heavy wind again made conditions uncomfortable. We reloaded
at dusk, and by the light of a lovely moon travelled in close to
Ouargla: a ride full of remembrance for me, for thoughts were active,
and dwelt on the long trail behind with some regrets and sadness,
and on the short trail in front with gladness; and the night was
fittingly still on the heels of the turmoil of a stormy day. But
lonely thoughts were almost past, and the society of mankind at hand.
In the morning we journeyed into Ouargla, coming suddenly out of
the desert within sight of the low, crouching oasis. It was not an
auspicious arrival. From the distance there was a subdued stillness
about the place. Great heat radiated from the sun, and the oasis
seemed asleep beneath its influence. The houses discerned appeared
deserted. Then a solitary figure in white crossed a glaring space
of sand and passed out of sight; and all was still again.
[Illustration: NORTH AFRICA
IN-SALAH MARKET]
While we were marvelling over this curious lack of movement, a small
knot of people at last detached themselves from beneath the shade
of a group of date-palms, and in time we made out that they were
riding horses and coming towards us. It proved to be the Officer
in Command at Ouargla and some Arab officials. We were offered a
very warm welcome, and I learned that my host was Captain Belvalette.
We were duly ushered to the fort and allotted real houses to camp
in: a foretaste of the change before us. But that the change would
not always be acceptable, at first, I realised when night came,
and I tossed and turned within the stuffy space of four walls. My
wish was then for the untrammelled star-lit sky.
During that day, and the next, we enjoyed the hospitality of Captain
Belvalette and his wife, who left no stone unturned to make us
thoroughly welcome and comfortable. We left those kind folks on
June 2nd with gratitude and regret, and travelled constantly until
we reached Touggourt in the forenoon of the 5th, which was the
last day we mounted camels. And the record of the distance that my
caravan had travelled from rail-head to rail-head was 3,556 miles;
not including all the side-hunting that necessarily falls to the
lot of the naturalist in the field.
Baggage was off-loaded for the last time, before a group of curious
strangers that soon collected, recognising that we had come from
afar. When they had ascertained that we had travelled all the way
from the West Coast of Africa they gaped at us as if we were unreal.
About midday I parted from my camel, Feri n’Gashi, to whom I was
tremendously attached, for he had faithfully carried me throughout
the journey. He seemed to understand that the end had come, and it
was a strange, sad-eyed farewell between master and dumb friend,
with strong desire to remain together in my thoughts, and, I think,
in his. I know I had a lump in my throat, and as for him—well,
he could not tell me that which he wished to say.
He looked well, considering all he had gone through, and I sent
him away to enjoy a well-earned rest, having arranged with Captain
Belvalette that he should return to Ouargla and be cared for so long
as he lived. I had no inkling of the rapid sequel. The rest he was
to have was of another order, for in the afternoon Ali came running
to me in consternation to tell that _Feri n’Gashi was dead_.[21] I
could not believe it, and was deeply moved when I came to understand
that it was only too true; Ali was almost as much concerned, for he
was a good native, with a very active and sensitive mind. He held
my camel in high esteem because of its splendid service throughout
the journey, and he had watched and comprehended the intimacy that
had grown up between master and camel.
[Illustration: NORTH AFRICA
SCENE IN OUARGLA]
In Ali’s view it was: “The will of Allah.”
“You see, Master, he has died while sitting as usual on the
ground. He has passed in complete peace. He has neither struggled
nor turned over, as is the way of camels; his head has simply
fallen forward. . . . Is it not Kismet? He has always been ridden
by the big white master, and it is not fit that black man go ride
him after that—so he go die.”
Feri n’Gashi’s death cast a heavy cloud over our thoughts for
the remainder of the day. Nevertheless, we had much to occupy us
in other directions, for we proposed catching the train which left
for the coast that night. All our strange assortment of outdoor
baggage had to be relieved of their camel trappings and made to
look as respectable as possible, then labelled and conveyed down
the dusty track to the station. It was dark before the task was done.
Glover and I then enjoyed a square meal at the wood-framed “Hôtel
Oases,” and laid in some supplies for the journey; particularly
French cigarettes and drinks.
At 9 p.m. the train departed from Touggourt for Algiers, bearing
the stock of weather-worn possessions of an expedition, and four
tattered, but tolerably healthy-looking wanderers—Glover, myself,
and the two natives, Ali and Sakari. The two latter were vastly
intrigued with their new mode of travel, particularly with the idea
of their sitting still while they flew over the country without the
necessity of their doing a stroke of work or undergoing a moment’s
physical fatigue.
During the journey one thing made us all as delighted and happy as
children—the wonderful green landscape after leaving Biskra. We
never tired of feasting our eyes on the uncommon beauty of the
countryside, so green with cultivation, and even decked with
flowers. To our sand-tired vision it was a marvellous sight, and
we knew then, undoubtedly, that we had left the desert behind.
On June 7th we reached Algiers, and were met by the British
Vice-Consul, Mr. Gallienne, who gave us a real welcome. He was a man
of wonderful foresight, for we had just exchanged greetings when he
put his hand in his pocket and produced some English tobacco, saying:
“I thought you might be in need of this.” We were so much in
need of it that we almost embraced the poor man in our joy. Tobacco
had been our most difficult “want” to cope with for many months.
One thing tickled Gallienne’s imagination. I caught him looking at
me; whereupon he explained: “You know, I had pictured you _lean,
and about seven feet tall, and with a broad Scot’s accent_. You
are certainly _lean_, but I’ll need to take quite a foot off that
stature; as for your accent, it’s no’ verra hieland.”
He was indeed a real good soul, for, when we got into quarters,
he set out on all sorts of strange errands, and seemed to enjoy the
fun of dress rehearsal in preparing two tattered ragamuffins for the
exacting stage of civilisation. Collars, ties, shirts, underclothing,
hats: all are difficult articles to choose for other men at any
time, but more than difficult when the persons they are intended
for have forgotten the sizes of everything they used to wear.
[Illustration: BUCHANAN
AT THE END OF THE JOURNEY]
Those were crowded hours of wonderful joy, such as only men may
experience who come in at last from the long trail.
And when I lay down to sleep at night, _in a bed incredibly soft_,
my thoughts were overflowing with gratitude that I had lived for
this day.
And then I remembered my little friend in the sky, and rising, drew
aside the window-blind to find the North Star in its steadfast
place gleaming down on picturesque Algiers, and gleaming too,
I knew, above a certain Highland village, now no longer remote,
. . . and in my mind nestled the thought that the most beautiful
place on earth, even to those who wander, is Home.
And, relating to this final period, my wife writes:
“Over thirteen months had passed since my husband had sailed,
and the homecoming seemed near; and a very beautiful thought to
dream about. The months that had passed had been anxious ones, but
always full of hope. However, now I was growing troubled. Letters
had always been irregular, but for three whole months I had received
no mail or news of any kind. Although my husband had warned me this
might happen when he was in the interior, I felt uneasy.
“On April 11th I had a strange presentiment. I was sitting by the
fire, sewing, in the evening, when something impelled me to look
up at my husband’s photograph which hangs over the fireplace. He
seemed to cry ‘Olga!’ three times distinctly, and I felt sure
he was ill, and calling me. I went to bed that night very sad and
miserable. Sleep was impossible, and always his vision appeared
before me. When morning came I put on a brave face and tried to
forget the uneasy feelings I had had all night. Just as I started
my breakfast I received a cable from Fort Tamanrasset, via Algiers,
which threw some light on my strange presentiment. It stated that my
husband was badly injured, and would have to abandon further travel.
“Never, never shall I forget that day; everything seemed black
and all my hopes shattered. I had been brave for long, but now
my heart seemed to fail me, and I was foolish enough to think the
worst would happen and he would never return.
“My wee daughter Sheila was my great consoler. With her wee arms
tightly round my neck, she would always whisper: ‘It’s all right,
Mummie. Daddy will come home to us soon, soon.’
“However, in spite of these fears I afterwards received another
message which was much more assuring, for it told that my husband
was proceeding, and even continuing to hunt. (Which I learned from
his servant, afterwards, he did on crutches and by shooting from
his camel.)
“Time seemed to fly on then; and the Consul-General of Algiers,
Sir Basil Cave, very kindly advised me when he got news that my
husband was safely through to the north.
“On June 7th I received a most exciting cable from my husband at
Algiers, telling me of his safe arrival, and that he would land
on the following Monday at Dover. It is quite impossible for me
to express just what my feelings were when I read the glorious
news. All the weary months of waiting were swept aside with the
joy of homecoming.
[Illustration: T. A. GLOVER
CINEMATOGRAPHER WITH THE EXPEDITION]
“The following night I went south to London, hardly knowing how
to wait for Monday to come. On Perth station I was very proud and
happy when I saw on the placards:
“‘SCOTTISH EXPLORER CROSSES THE SAHARA’
The porters and inspectors were full of excitement, for most of
them knew my husband, and more than one eagerly helped me with my
luggage and packed me off happy to meet the man they had sent on
his journey sixteen months before.
“June 11th arrived at last, a glorious hot June day. I travelled
from Charing Cross to Dover, and, while going down in the train,
I read a paragraph in _The Times_ which made me wonder if I was a
day too soon. It stated that my husband had arrived in Paris and
was due in London the following Tuesday evening. This was Monday,
and I kept wondering, all the way down, if I was to be disappointed
when the Channel steamer came in.
“Arriving at Dover, in company with Mrs. Glover, the cinema
operator’s wife, we discovered it was impossible to get on the
quay without a permit, which, in my excitement, I had omitted to
obtain in London. I was told I must see the Marine Superintendent
and get a pass from him. Entering a small office, I stood and waited
anxiously. Presently a big, burly, seafaring man entered from an
inner room. Scrutinising me with stern eyes he gruffly demanded my
business. In a very nervous and anxious manner I explained I had
come to meet my husband. That information seemed to produce not the
slightest effect, and I had a dreadful feeling that my request would
be refused point-blank. Realising this, I made another attempt,
and told how my husband had been away sixteen months, and that I
did so wish to meet the incoming boat. I was answered by silence,
while I could feel those eyes trying to read me through. At last,
turning sharply, he said ‘Humph! We have lots of people like you
here’; and then, to a man at his elbow, ‘Write out a pass.’
“At 5 p.m. the boat came slowly in alongside the quay.
“What a moment! I shall never forget it! There seemed hundreds of
faces on board, but only one that counted for me. Leaning over the
rail, with eyes keenly searching among the waiting crowd, stood my
husband, burnt almost black with the scorching sun of the Sahara. It
was a wonderful moment, and meeting, full of suppressed emotion,
each feeling that at last the great trek was done, and now we could
look to home and comforts that had for so long been impossible.
“After the first joy of our meeting was over, I was amazed
and somewhat bewildered to see two natives in their strange and
picturesque native dress following as close to my husband as space
would allow. They beamed broadly when they saw me and realised I
was their master’s wife, and at once proceeded to salaam to me
with deep bows to the ground. They followed my husband all through
the Customs, so closely that they gave one the impression that if
they missed him for a single minute they would be lost for ever.
[Illustration: SAKARI; BUCHANAN; FERI N’GASHI; ALI
TOGETHER TO THE END]
“I asked one if he felt cold. He replied: ‘Yes, Miss—plenty
cold.’ (Which may tell of the heat of the Sahara, for it was
a lovely June day.) He then explained that: ‘Master be plenty
strong, and in Sahara go walk, walk, walk all the time; and after
that plenty work—he never go for sleep.’ These thoughts seemed
to be uppermost in his mind.
“At this point the Marine Superintendent came up to me and, with an
ingratiating smile, remarked that I was all right now. Then he told
me that he had read in the morning’s paper of my husband’s trip,
and that it had been well worth while to watch our happy meeting,
and to realise what the pass meant to me. He then shook my husband
warmly by the hand, and we all stood chatting together.
“Afterwards we proceeded to London and, following a brief stay,
which seemed to be full of interviews with the Press, and in every
way a whirl of excitement, we came at last home to Scotland and
the restfulness of a Highland village.
“Our wee girl Sheila ran to the gate to meet us, and the faithful
old Labrador, Niger, who was overjoyed at sight of his long-lost
master. . . . And all the long, weary months of waiting were
forgotten, and the lovely thought stood out that the object of
the expedition had been achieved, and we were once again to be
together.”
CHAPTER XV
CIVILISATION
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XV
CIVILISATION
What tremendous import lies behind the single word that heads this
final chapter! Indeed, it may be the key-word to the whole future
of the universe, for civilisation, or rather, over-civilisation,
is swaying the world from all reasonable balance, while we drift
with the tide, or struggle unheard: and no plan evolves to set back
the engulfing flood.
I have a dictionary before me which clearly states that to
civilise is:
“To reclaim from barbarism; to instruct in arts and refinements.”
If civilisation succeeded to that end alone it would be a happy
world indeed. But has not the so-called civilisation of to-day
decidedly turned toward other intents altogether, where greed and
selfishness largely play an absorbing part?
This may be said not only of our own land, but of the whole of the
civilised world, which feels the weight of industrial despondency,
and I dwell on these thoughts without rancour toward my fellows,
for no one can foretell the purpose of evolution.
Fortunate are those who can accept the circumstances of life with
grave thoughtfulness rather than consternation; and that is a rich
teaching, learned, so far as I am concerned, in the world’s
wilderness, where life is sweet and realities naked. To those
whose lot it is to look on, how empty seems the frantic blame of
parliament that succeeds parliament in the government of countries,
and how like the howlings of wolves who have lost the trail to
more successful competitors who have gone ahead. For parliaments,
when all is said and done, strive to make the best of the material
in their hands; and that material is largely concerned with complex
humanity, which no human power shall ever completely content.
Wherefore it is the clamourings of the wolves that is, as an empty
noise, to be condemned as wholly unworthy of any peace-loving
community that would prosper. It is they who are out to prey, and,
dissatisfied, unscrupulous, hungry for spoil, they care neither
for honour nor what they wreck to gain their gluttonous ends.
But if my wanderings far afield have taught me anything, it is that
we each of us have in our own keeping a very precious possession
that either brightens or slurs our environment. I refer to individual
character, which is, after all, since units make the mass, the source
that shall always decide the nature and ideals of society. Hence,
be circumstances what they may, the individual character has it in
its power to be a significant force in the universe; _so long as
it is strong, and of sterling worthiness_.
Wherefore, may it not be that the restlessness and dissatisfaction of
modern life is in a minority of characters that are weak and lacking
in manliness, and from that source are forthcoming the extremists
whose insane attacks on all things as they exist destroy the
confidence and tranquillity upon which all true progress flourishes?
There is no denying that there is a mean spirit abroad at the
present time, a bad patch of inferior material, as it were; but I
cannot believe it is anything more serious than that. And therein
lies my faith that the simple meaning of civilisation shall one
day be recovered, so that men may turn to their dictionaries again,
and comprehend when they read that to civilise is:
“To reclaim from barbarism; to instruct in arts and refinements.”
My chief concern, however, in approaching this subject is to enter on
some strange outside impressions of our country, come by in a curious
way, in the hope that they may help to show that dissatisfaction
with one’s lot is not always justified, and that it is usually
possible to find others in circumstances worse than one’s own.
I thought I knew what was meant by poverty before I went to the
Sahara (for my life had not been an easy one), but the Great Desert
and its people taught me otherwise. Wherefore, when the sudden
transition came and I left behind that land of primitive people
and ancient customs to regain the heart of civilisation, it was
an experience that keyed up the senses to acute receptiveness and
tremendous appreciation. Everything was a luxury; everything accepted
with thankfulness, and one quarter of the most humble of the comforts
that came my way would have filled me with equal content.
So may it be when the mind of man has learned humbleness from a
background of desert that holds _nothing_.
But, if the sudden change of environment was full of incident in
my case, it can be readily conceived that Ali’s and Sakari’s
first view of civilisation was even more exciting, and filled them
with astonishment and wonder.
The lifelong background, to them, was primitive Africa. Previous to
joining the caravan they had both lived for many years in Kano, the
great Hausa trade centre of Northern Nigeria, and one of the most
remarkable native cities in the world. An environment of humble,
low, mud-walled huts and narrow sandy lanes had always been theirs,
and heat and flies and a dense population, with meagre sufficiency
of food, their intimate atmosphere. To them luxury was unknown, and,
not knowing it, they were happy. Indeed, Kano is a town of laughter,
and its people healthy and content amid a humbleness and simplicity
that is as yet unspoiled, and natural to them.
[Illustration: GOOD-BYE TO AFRICA]
The language familiar to Ali and Sakari is Hausa; though Arabic
is the native tongue of the former. However, for the purpose in
view, Hausa will not serve, and therefore, in endeavouring to give
some of their impressions of this country as closely as possible,
I will, in the main, have recourse to their _Pidgin English_. To
give some idea of this curious and amusing African patois, I will,
before proceeding to the main subject, cite some expressions that
were familiar during the late expedition:
“Wait small,” i.e. Wait a little.
“He live small,” i.e. The meal is not quite ready.
“Time no reach,” i.e. It is not yet the time appointed.
“Excuse me small,” i.e. Please give room to let me pass.
“He no live,” i.e. When someone cannot be found when wanted.
“This day I be _black_ all over,” i.e. In a bad temper. (No
reference to colour.)
“Them French be palava people,” i.e. Talkative people.
“Jeasers,” i.e. Scissors.
Sakari, when asked if he has cleaned my gun:
“I done dust him, sir!”
Sakari, telling he has looked for a lost knife:
“Them knife: I find him all, I no look him.”
Sakari, when asked if he has found a lost button:
“You make I find him for them place this morning; I find him,
I no see him.”
Sakari, having brought a local native to me who can mend a broken
frying-pan:
“Look this man! Him say he fit go make them fry pan well.”
Sakari, describing that two men are brothers:
“The mother what born him be mother for that man, too. Them all
belong one mother.”
Sakari, referring to one of the camel-men who is exhausted:
“All him strong gone.”
Sakari, referring to the state of my wardrobe when everything is
in rags:
“All them clothes broke.”
Sakari, when asked if he has properly killed a lizard before skinning
it, chuckled and replied:
“No, sir! Him hard for die.”
“Where is the butter, Sakari?”
“He go die,” i.e. It is finished.
Native, asking for a shilling with the head of Queen Victoria on it:
“I want them money with woman that live for inside.”
Native, having difficulty to cook in a high wind:
“This breeze no fit let them fire stand up.”
Native, detecting that something is burning:
“Some cloth go burn? I hear him smell.”
All through the expedition the natives had to crush their own
grain into meal—always the woman’s task at home. One day I said
to Sakari:
“Now you savvy how to beat them meal plenty fine you will be able
to save your wife much work.”
He replied:
“Oh no, sir! When I go catch Kano again I lose him sense plenty
quick. I no be fool go tell my wife that.”
With two unsophisticated worthies like Ali and Sakari, fresh from
the wilderness, I had to be prepared for anything when we landed
in England. To say that they were excited and astonished would be
putting it mildly indeed. They were amazed. In Hausa, when addressing
me, or in _pidgin English_, when speaking to others, they expressed
bewilderment of all they saw, and were as delighted as children
on an eventful holiday. Everything was novel to them. Everything
required explanation.
On the way up to town we had the first inkling of amusing incidents
in store. The event was unexpected. The train suddenly rushed into
a tunnel and simultaneously my natives, who surely thought the end
had come, were stricken dumb with fear. When the train regained
the daylight Sakari was sitting drawn up in a corner with big,
frightened eyes, and he gasped:
“O master! I think this train no go take the right road.”
On reaching London, quarters were found for Ali and Sakari in
Gower Street. They were disappointed and almost alarmed when they
learned that they could no longer _camp_ beside me, and uneasy at
the thought of being separated. Ali’s greatest concern was that
he could no longer follow my footprints:
“This no be _Tenere_ [desert], Master! If you are lost, how I be
fit go see your foot on these rocks?” (paved streets).
However, I assured them I would come and see them each day, and
with that they had to be content.
During the forenoon of the next day I saw them again. Both complained
of stiff necks.
“What’s the matter?” I queried.
They grinned broadly, and replied:
“Yesterday we go walk and walk, and all time we go look for
top them high house; O Master, they be plenty fine past house
of Kano. _Them house tall plenty, plenty; but to-day neck be
sick_. Only way man fit go look for up proper be for him lie down
on road [street] same same as when sleep for camp.”
The endless streets lined with innumerable houses were further
source of wonderment. On one occasion, after walking for an hour
or so through a maze of closely built thoroughfares, they came out
into Regent’s Park to exclaim:
“Ah! now we go look _the desert of London_; this ground no have
house for him.”
In the streets they expressed surprise that everyone ate indoors
and that no one was seen sitting down to food by the side of the
open thoroughfare, as was common enough in their own country.
The huge population of the metropolis also came in for much comment,
and they speedily realised that there were more people in London
than in the whole of Kano emirate.
[Illustration: GLOVER; BUCHANAN
BACK TO CIVILISED CLOTHES]
One day, Ali informed me that:
“There be plenty plenty people for this town who all be different,
and who sit and say nothing.”
This I could not comprehend, until slowly it dawned on me that he
was referring to _the monuments of London—“The people who sit
and say nothing.”_
While on the subject of monuments, the first silver currency
in Nigeria had the head of Queen Victoria on the one side, and
hence the shilling became widely known among the Hausa natives as
_Silli mai mammie_ (the shilling that has the mother). One day,
when passing Buckingham Palace, Ali and Sakari came in view of
the monument of Queen Victoria. At once they recognised the head,
and excitedly pointed and exclaimed:
“Look there! It is the lady of the shilling.”
I doubt if anyone could have guessed what would be the three very
first things to strike deeply upon the imaginations of Ali and
Sakari when they first entered London.
They were: _Policemen in uniform, wax models, and babies in
perambulators_.
The police were:
“Magic men, who, when they go put up hand, they fit go stop all
the people.”
Wax models:
“English magic. This people savvy how to make woman same same
for live.”
Babies in perambulators were remarkable because of the novelty of
seeing infants carefully wheeled “in small motor-car” with a
nurse in attendance, for in their own country their youngsters are
carried on the backs of the womenfolk, or more or less left to take
their chance of life by the hut doors.
Of all they saw, then and thereafter, Ali and Sakari frankly
concluded, times without number:
“Ki! White men go catch plenty plenty sense! All savvy work plenty
fine. They be kings of work—all!” “All the people go catch
money for this country. It plenty sweet past our country.”
And these were impressions they eventually carried back to spread
far afield. And in this way, all unbeknown, the character of a
nation may sometimes go forth broadcast before the world.
From London, Ali and Sakari accompanied me to my home in
Scotland. They were made comfortable in an adjoining outhouse,
and allotted a suitable place to make a camp-fire outdoors, where
they delighted to sit and cook their meals in natural fashion.
Here, again, their pleasure in everything new afforded constant
amusement.
Scotland does not lack for water. The river Tay, flowing near the
house, was a feast indeed for eyes that well knew the drawbacks of
an arid land, and the dreadful thirst of the desert. And the two
natives were content to sit for hours, lost in contemplation of
the swiftly flowing perpetual water that would represent unbounded
prosperity if only it could be transported to their own land.
But this worship of water had its drawbacks when Ali made the
gleeful discovery that all he had to do to get water in the house
was to turn on a tap. Thereafter we caught him, repeatedly, standing
wrapt before the scullery sink with taps full on watching to see:
“If them water be fit ever go run dry.”
When it rained thoughts always veered to the Sahara, and more than
once Ali remarked:
“Allah send plenty rain for this country, and so He go forget
the desert all the time.
“Suppose Sahara fit look this rain all the people catch plenty
food.”
During the first morning at home I took the two natives on to the
golf-course. For a little time they walked, feeling the closely
knit turf under their feet, then they dropped to their knees and
ran their hands over the grass, looking about them with delight.
“Ki! All be grass, master! All the ground find him plenty good. The
eye sees not sand anywhere; not even between the blades.”
“Here be plenty plenty food for _Rakumi_” (camels).
“In the desert this be all sand for sure, and no grass. So, so,
all time Allah give plenty good things for this country.”
On another occasion I took them out to look on while ferreting
rabbits. I had also my retriever with me. When the first rabbit was
shot, however, there was no need to send the dog to fetch it, for
there was a wild scramble on the part of both the boys, who reached
the “bunny” together, and straightway proceeded to cut its throat
in true Mohammedan fashion. A second rabbit was treated in the same
way, and then the two worthies were quite ready to set off home.
Half an hour later, while the rabbits were still warm, I found my
followers beside their camp-fires in the yard with their prizes
skinned and pierced on sticks, roasting before the blaze. This was
their idea of _a real feast of fresh meat_, and the first they had
had an opportunity of enjoying to the full since they had landed
in the country.
But they were never difficult to please with food, and their usual
dish, eaten twice a day, about 11 a.m. and again in the evening,
consisted usually of butcher meat mixed with rice, potatoes, cloves,
nutmeg, and plenty of olive oil. This strangely seasoned mixture
was of their own choosing and was:
“Sweet past food for Kano.”
My wife tried to induce them to eat with knives and forks, but they
were much more at home with their fingers.
Sheep are the choice animals for ceremonial sacrifice in their own
land. Hence they cast longing eyes on the black-faced variety that
pastured on the hills near my home, and kept asking me to kill one
for them for _Sadaka_ (almsgiving); and so that they might take
the skin to Nigeria:
“To show all the people for Kano the plenty fine hair [wool]
that live for _Rago_ [sheep] in England.”
[Illustration: ALI AND SAKARI IN ENGLAND]
In their newly found domestic life, one of the greatest delights
to Ali and Sakari was _to possess a whole bar of Sunlight soap_,
and they were seized with a passion for washing themselves and
their clothes whenever they obtained such luxury.
Thus, in endless ways, they slowly absorbed the atmosphere of their
novel surroundings with artless, unsullied minds and constant
good-humour. They saw things as they existed with innocent
penetration and directness; and ever they came back to such
remarks as:
“White man go catch plenty plenty sense; everybody catch plenty
clothes; everybody catch plenty to eat. This no be desert; this
country sweet past all country.”
But they came to be greatly exercised because:
“When we go give this big news of England to people for Kano we
will have so much to tell that plenty people no fit go believe us.”
Wherefore, to prove that, at least, they had been in this country,
they made an extraordinary request. This was _to remove two perfectly
good teeth from their heads and have gold ones inserted_, so that:
“When we go for Kano and people no fit believe we go look this
country, we say, ‘Ah! ah! you be fool man. Look them Gold Teeth!’
And so they will be convinced; for our people no savvy them sense
for put gold for head.”
Their request, which was a persistent one, was finally granted, and
Ali and Sakari became the proud possessors of “gold for head.”
Ali had, then, only one great ambition left: to some day make the
pilgrimage to Mecca, which is the dream of so many true Mohammedans:
“And then I be BIG past all men that live for Kano.”
Sakari, on the other hand, planned the disposal of the money he
had earned:
“When I go Kano I buy another wife, _fine past the one that
live now_.
“After that I go buy house from Emir.”
Asked how much a house would cost, he replied:
“They be different, sir! Some get £15; some get £10; some get
£6 to £7. If buy him so, all the time he be my own.”
Then he added:
“But I no look for front [forward] too much, Master! for it will
be like the _Tenere_ [desert] when you are gone.”
They were faithful, able men, and when the parting came it was
one of deep regret, filled with distressing artless emotion on the
part of Ali and Sakari; which revealed the wonderful fidelity of
these two fine henchmen of the Open Road, who had stuck with the
expedition through thick and thin.
And it may be a fitting finish to give Ali’s description of the
desert that we had left behind.
“Gentle people, I salute you! I give you news of the desert. It
is a land of sand and wind and want. If you would visit it? tighten
your belt plenty, as a giant. There is no lying down in comfort,
for there is no medicine for the Sun by day, nor for the Great Winds
by night. There is never plenty food, and if water is not found,
then one dies—that is the desert!
“All my people ’fraid of that Sahara country, and plenty plenty
people say we no fit go, because robber people, no food, no water,
no sticks for fire, and all that.
“Only strong man fit go walka that country, and some strong men
begin to die after we go start.
“Plenty people tell master he go die, but master only say: ‘All
right, he go all same.’
“After I go look them desert, I think I no go live to see
England. But Allah is kind! and I have looked on this country,
which be plenty plenty fine—and I go my way in content.”
APPENDICES
APPENDIX I
SCIENTIFIC NOMENCLATURE OF SAHARAN BIRD LIFE
All numerals coincide with those before each common name in
Chapter XII.
1. Numida galeata galeata.
2. Coturnix coturnix coturnix.
3. Fulica atra atra.
4. Pterocles senegalensis senegalensis, and
Pterocles senegallus.
5. Pterocles coronatus coronatus.
6. Pterocles lichtensteinii targius.
7. Lissotis nuba.
8. Eupodotis arabs.
9. Hydrochelidon leucoptera.
10. Himantopus himantopus himantopus.
11. Tringa glareola.
12. Tringa hypoleucos.
13. Philomachus pugnax.
14. Capella gallinago gallinago.
15. Burhinus capensis maculosus.
16. Tringa ochropus.
17. Hoplopterus spinosus.
18. Cursorius cursor cursor.
19. Streptopelia senegalensis senegalensis.
20. Streptopelia roseogrisea roseogrisea.
21. Streptopelia turtur hoggara.
22. Œna capensis.
23. Columba livia targia.
24. Spatula clypeata.
25. Anas acuta acuta.
26. Anas crecca crecca.
27. Anas querquedula.
28. Dendrocygna viduata.
29. Sarkidiornis melanotus.
30. Alopochen ægyptiacus.
31. Nycticorax nycticorax nycticorax.
32. Ardea purpurea purpurea.
33. Butorides striatus atricapillus.
34. Abdimia abdimii.
35. Plegadis falcinellus falcinellus.
36. Necrosyrtes monachus monachus.
37. Neophron percnopterus percnopterus.
38. Gyps rüppellii rüppellii
39. Aquila rapax belisarius.
40. Milvus migrans parasitus.
41. Circus macrourus.
42. Melierax musicus neumanni.
43. Falco peregrinus pelegrinoides.
44. Falco tinnunculus tinnunculus.
45. Tyto alba affinis.
46. Bubo africanus cinerascens.
47. Bubo bubo desertorum.
48. Otus scops scops.
49. Otus leucotis leucotis.
50. Athene noctua solitudinis, subsp. n.
51. Clamator jacobinus pica.
52. Chrysococcyx caprius chrysochlorus.
53. Lophoceros erythrorhynchus erythrorhynchus.
54. Mesopicos goertæ goertæ.
55. Dendropicos minutus.
56. Coracias abyssinus minor.
57. Upupa epops somalensis.
58. Upupa epops epops.
59. Scoptelus aterrimus cryptostictus, subsp. n.
60. Merops albicollis albicollis.
61. Merops orientalis viridissimus.
62. Colius macrourus syntactus.
63. Pogoniulus chrysoconus schubotzi.
64. Trachyphonus margaritatus margaritatus.
65. Lybius vieilloti buchanani, subsp. n.
66. Caprimulgus eximius simplicior, subsp. n.
67. Caprimulgus europæus europæus.
68. Caprimulgus inornatus, and Macrodipteryx
longipennis.
69. Apus affinis galilejensis.
70. Apus apus apus.
71. Apus pallidus pallidus.
72. Hirundo gordoni.
73. Hirundo rustica rustica.
74. Riparia obsoleta buchanani, subsp. n.
75. Phœnicurus phœnicurus phœnicurus.
76. Œnanthe œnanthe œnanthe.
77. Œnanthe deserti deserti.
78. Œnanthe leucopyga œgra.
79. Cercomela melanura airensis, subsp. n.
80. Saxicola rubetra rubetra.
81. Monticola saxatilis.
82. Cercotrichas podobe.
83. Turdoides fulvus buchanani, subsp. n.
84. Agrobates galactotes galactotes, and Agrobates
galactotes minor.
85. Hypolais pallida reiseri.
86. Hypolais icterina.
87. Sylvia cantillans cantillans.
88. Sylvia communis communis.
89. Sylvia hortensis hortensis.
90. Phylloscopus collybita collybita.
91. Phylloscopus trochilus trochilus.
92. Spiloptila clamans.
93. Eremomela flaviventris alexanderi.
94. Sylvietta micrura brachyura.
95. Hedydipna platura platura.
96. Nectarinia pulchella ægra, subsp. n.
97. Remiz punctifrons.
98. Batis senegalensis.
99. Muscicapa striata striata.
100. Muscicapa hypoleuca hypoleuca.
101. Muscicapa albicollis.
102. Lanius excubitor leucopygos.
103. Lanius senator senator.
104. Nilaus afer afer.
105. Motacilla flava cinereocapilla,
Motacilla flava flava, and
Motacilla flava thumbergi.
106. Motacilla alba alba.
107. Anthus sordidus asbenaicus, subsp. n.
108. Anthus campestris campestris.
109. Anthus trivialis trivialis.
110. Anthus cervinus.
111. Alæmon alaudipes alaudipes.
112. Mirafra cheniana chadensis.
113. Ammomanes deserti mya, and Ammomanes deserti
geyri, subsp. n.
114. Galerida cristata alexanderi.
115. Ammomanes phœnicurus arenicolor.
116. Calendula dunni.
117. Calandrella brachydacty hermonensis.
118. Eremopterix leucotis melanocephala.
119. Eremopterix frontalis frontalis.
120. Emberiza striolata sahari.
121. Passer simplex saharæ.
122. Passer luteus.
123. Serinus leucopygius riggenbachi.
124. Erythrospiza githaginea zedlitzi.
125. Sporopipes frontalis pallidior, subsp. n.
126. Ploceus vitellinus vitellinus.
127. Ploceus luteolus luteolus.
128. Aidemosyne cantans cantans.
129. Estrilda senegala brunneiceps.
130. Spreo pulcher pulcher.
131. Lamprocolius chalybeus hartlaubi.
132. Corvus albus.
133. Corvus corax ruficollis.
134. Corvus rhipiduras.
ADDITIONAL BIRD LIFE FROM THE WESTERN SUDAN
135. Struthio camelus camelus.
136. Ptilopachus petrosus brehmi.
137. Francolinus clappertoni clappertoni, and
Francolinus bicalcaratus bicalcaratus.
138. Pterocles quadricinctus quadricinctus.
139. Ortyxelos meiffreni.
140. Otis senegalensis senegalensis.
141. Sarciophorus tectus tectus.
142. Cursorius cursor cursor.
143. Turtur abyssinicus delicatulus.
144. Streptopelia decipiens shelleyi.
145. Streptopelia vinacea vinacea.
146. Columba guinea guinea.
147. Treron waalia.
148. Bulbulcus ibis ibis.
149. Ardea melanocephala.
150. Threskiornis æthiopicus æthiopicus.
151. Circaëtus gallicus.
152. Chelictinia riocourii.
153. Butastur rufipennis.
154. Melierax gabar niger.
155. Gymnogenys typica.
156. Falco chicquera ruficollis.
157. Accipiter badius sphenurus.
158. Falco biarmicus abyssinicus.
159. Otus senegalensis.
160. Glaucidium perlatum.
161. Centropus senegalensis senegalensis.
162. Clamator glandarius.
163. Lophoceros nasutus nasutus.
164. Chizærhis africana.
165. Poicephalus senegalus versteri.
166. Campethera punctuligera punctuligera.
167. Coracias nævia nævia.
168. Eurystomus afer afer.
169. Halcyon chelicuti eremogiton, subsp. n.
170. Lybius dubius.
171. Irrisor erythrorhynchus guineensis.
172. Scotornis climacurus.
173. Tachornis parvus parvus.
174. Hirundo daurica domicella.
175. Hirundo albigularis æthiopica.
176. Œnanthe hispanica melanoleuca.
177. Myrmecocichla æthiops buchanani, subsp. n.
178. Turdoides plebejus anomalus, subsp. n.
179. Acrocephalus scirpaceus scirpaceus.
180. Phylloscopus bonelli bonelli
181. Prinia mistacea mistacea.
182. Eremomela pusilla.
183. Camaroptera brevicaudata chrysocnemis.
184. Cisticola cisticola aridula.
185. Cinnyris senegalensis senegalensis.
186. Zosterops senegalensis senegalensis.
187. Tchitrea viridis ferreti.
188. Harpolestes senegalus senegalus.
189. Laniarius barbarus barbarus.
190. Prionops plumatus haussarum, subsp. n.
191. Corvinella corvina corvina.
192. Emberiza flaviventris flavigaster.
193. Gymnoris pyrgita pallida.
194. Petronia dentata buchanani, subsp. n.
195. Serinus mozambicus hartlaubi.
196. Textor albirostris albirostris.
197. Steganura aucupum aucupum.
198. Hypochera chalybeata neumanni
199. Pyromelana franciscana franciscana.
200. Amadina fasciata fasciata.
201. Pytelia melba citerior.
202. Estrilda cinerea.
203. Uræginthus bengalus bengalus.
204. Lamprotornis caudatus.
205. Cinnyricinclus leucogaster leucogaster.
206. Buphagus africanus.
207. Cryptorhina afra.
APPENDIX II
SCIENTIFIC NOMENCLATURE OF SAHARAN ANIMAL LIFE
All numerals coincide with those before each common name in
Chapter XIII.
1. Ammotragus lervia angusi, subsp. n.
2. Gazella dama damergouensis, subsp. n.
3. Gazella dorcas dorcas.
4. Oryx algazel algazel
5. Addax nasomaculatus.
6. Phacochœrus æthiopicus africanus.
7. Papio nigeriæ.
8. Pipistrellus kuhli
9. Scoteinus schlieffeni.
10. Rhinopoma cystops.
11. Paraechinus deserti.
12. Felis haussa, sp. n.
13. Felis margarita. (Rediscovered after 65 years.)
14. Genetta dongolana.
15. Caracal caracal pœcilotis, subsp. n.
16. Herpestes phœnicurus Saharæ, subsp. n.
17. Hyæna hyæna.
18. Canis riparius.
19. Vulpes pallida harterti, subsp. n.
20. Vulpes rüppelli cæsia, subsp. n.
21. Fennecus zerda.
22. Mellivora buchanani, sp. n.
23. Euxerus erythropus agadius, subsp. n.
24. Claviglis olga, sp. n.
25. Gerbillus pyramidum.
26. Gerbillus gerbillus (group).
27. Dipodillus campestris.
28. Dipodillus garamantis.
29. Desmodilliscus buchanani, sp. n.
30. Meriones schousbœi tuareg, subsp. n.
31. Meriones libycus caudatus.
32. Psammomys algiricus.
33. Mastomys, sp.
34. Acomys airensis, sp. n.
35. Acomys johannis.
36. Arvicanthis testicularis solatus, subsp. n.
37. Jaculus jaculus airensis, subsp. n.
38. Hystrix ærula, sp. n.
39. Massoutiera rothschildi, sp. n.
40. Lepus canopus, sp. n.
41. Procavia buchanani, sp. n.
42. Orycteropus ater.
ADDITIONAL ANIMAL LIFE FROM THE WESTERN SUDAN
43. Damaliscus korrigum.
44. Gazella rufifrons hasleri
45. Hipposideros caffer tephrus.
46. Epomophorus anurus.
47. Nycteris thebaica.
48. Atelerix spiculus.
49. Crocidura manni.
50. Ichneumia albicauda.
51. Canis anthus.
52. Vulpes pallida edwardsi
53. Pœcilictis rothschildi, sp. n.
54. Ictonyx senegalensis.
55. Euxerus erythropus chadensis.
56. Taterillus gracilis angelus, subsp. n.
57. Gerbillus nigeriæ, sp. n.
58. Steatomys cuppedius, sp. n.
59. Cricetomys gambiannus oliviæ.
60. Cricetomys buchanani, sp. n.
61. Leggada haussa, sp. n.
62. Lemniscomys olga, sp. n.
63. Arvicanthis testicularis.
64. Hystrix senegalica.
INDEX
A
Abandoned villages, 57, 67
Accumulating sand, 65
Agades, 67
Ahaggar Mountains, 60
Ahaggar, Tuaregs of, 140
Aïr Mountains, 60
Algiers, 264
Ali in London, 281
Alifa, 138
Alleys, a maze of, 99
Altitudes, 60
Amud, 138
Amusing native stories, 279
An accident, 42
An explanation, 29
Animals of the Sahara, 237
Anxieties of travel, 16
Area of Sahara, 48
Areas, pre-Saharan, 52
Arui, 246
Awe-inspiring immensity, 51
Awful heat, 24, 81
Azawaren natives, 122
B
Bad men hide, where, 107
Band, a hardened, 22
Barbary sheep, 246
Barbarism, to reclaim from, 273
Barren country, 59
Bartering salt, 127
Begging, 149
Berbers, Tuareg relation to, 131
Bezzou dies, 175
Big game, 238
Bilma, journey to, 77, 82
Bilma oasis, 113
Bird folklore, 221, 227
Bird life boundaries, 53
Birds of the Sahara, 217, 230
Biskra and the Sahara, 50
Brigandage, influence of, 139
Broken loads, 78
Buying equipment, 6
C
Camel, a riding, 39
Camel bought, 37
Camel dies, 23
Camel, early life of, 34
Camel-food, 74, 76
Camel friendship, 41
Camel-men, 11
Camel names, 21
Camels, a massed camp of, 80
Camels, hungry, 87
Camels, loading, 12
Camels—men—food—water, 15
Camels, number of, 20
Camels pay heavy price, 22, 258
Camels, sick, 15, 25, 209
Camels, thousands of, 72, 77, 83
Camp and rest, 27, 87
Camp-fires, 199
Caravan routes, old, 66
Change, geographic, 52
Character of northern natives, 140
Cheerful spirits, 17
Chibikee, 138
Civilisation, influence of, 140
Clouds, 64
Cold, 88
Collections, first Saharan, 53, 218, 230, 253
Contest for existence, 16
Country pitiless, 22
Cracked feet, 90
Cultivation in oases, 187
Cunning defence, 101
D
Dancers, a guild of, 193
Dangers of the trail, 137
Dawn, 17
Day closes, 26
Death of Feri N’Gashi, 44, 262
Decadence, 195
Decay of Sahara, 55, 64, 67
Decline of natives, 57, 162
Defence, cunning, 101
Den of forty thieves, 103
Departure, port of, 8
Depressed spirits, 163, 209
Desert, dread of the, 50, 287
Desert equipment, 72
Desert oases, 187
Desert of terrifying desolation, 81
Desert, the toll of the, 23
Desert, true, 59
Detail, importance of, 7
Diarabba, the, 193
Disappearing wild life, 56
Discovery of new species, 240
Distance travelled, 29, 261
Dividing line, the, 53
Dream, a strange, 214
Dreams materialise, 5
Dress of Tuaregs, 85, 146
Dromard, Lieutenant, 114
Dunes, 59
E
Eastern sadness, 23
Efali, 88, 92
Encroaching sand, 51
Endless sea of sand, 17
Enemies, among, 167
Enemies, feudal, 141
Environment of a desert camp, 153
Equipment, buying, 6
Equipment for the desert, 72
Equipment, saddle, 13
Exhaustion, 89, 208, 258
Expedition’s natives, 20, 258
Explored, new ground, 29
F
Fachi fort, 102
Fachi oasis, 82, 95
Fatigue, 26, 208
Fawna, 138
Feri N’Gashi, 21, 33, 40, 262
Feudal enemies, 141
Flies, 146
Flood, 204
Food and manners, 147
Food, camels’, 74, 76
Food desired, 259
Footsore, 90
Fuel, scarcity of, 191
G
Game on the move, 243
Gazelle and antelope, 239
Geographic change, 52
Giants, a legend of, 115
Giraffe, 53, 56
Glover, T. A., 8, 258
Grave journey begun, a, 161
Gravel plains, 59
Great trek starts, a, 79
Grim fortifications, 97
Guide, Bilma, 88, 92
Guild of Dancers, 193
H
Hamid of Timmersu, 84
Heat in the Sahara, 20, 24, 81
Highway for raiders, 95
History, legendary, 115
History of Bilma, 117
Home, 265
Homes in the wilderness, 143
Hungry camels, 87
I
Immensity, awe-inspiring, 51
Importance of detail, 7
Important influences, 51
Influence of brigandage, 139
J
Journey begun, a grave, 161
Journey to Bilma, 77
K
Kahena, 158, 171
Katsina, 36
Kowar depression, 95, 115
L
Landing, port of, 8
Land of antiquity, 50
Legendary history, 115
Legend surrounding skeletons, 182
Life of a camel, 33
Lion, 53, 56
Loading camels in dark, 12
Loads broken, 78
M
Malaria, 147, 187
Manners, 147
Map, 46
March begun, 14
Massacre, a, 117
Masters of the sword, 133
Men and beasts suffer, 89
Men sick, 16, 258
Memorable nights, 86
Migrants, bird, 226
Milk a staple food, 147
Mohammedan prayer, 18
Mountains, remarkable, 60
Museum’s support, 5
Museum, Tring, 58
N
Names of camels, 21
Natives, 63, 67, 84, 122
Natives, decline of, 57, 162
Natives with expedition, 20
Natron, 119
Nature of the Sahara, 59
New ground explored, 29
New species discovered, 240
Night, 26
Night camp, a, 87
Nomad possessions, 145
O
Oases, desert, 187
Oasis fortified, 96
Oasis of Bilma, 82, 113
Oasis of Fachi, 82, 95
Old traveller, 88
Oppressed by raids, 118
Origin of Tuaregs, 150
Oryx, white, 245
Ostrich, 53, 56
Ouargla, 259
Outlawry, 134, 138, 157
P
Pasturage, 63
Physical nature of Sahara, 59
Pidgin-English, 277
Pigeons, flocks of, 224
Pioneer, a, 4
Pitiless country, 22
Pitiless sun, 24, 81, 208
Plains of gravel, 59
Plan, bewildering, 99
Population declining, 57
Population, interior Sahara, 67
Port of departure, 8
Port of destination, 264
Prayer, Mohammedan, 18
Pre-Saharan areas, 51
Prolific salt-pits, 119
Prolonged strain, 91
R
Race, a strange, 123
Raid, a, 157
Raider, a, 133
Raiders, 96, 118, 123, 134, 138, 213
Rain, 147, 201, 241
Rainfall, 63
Rail-head in Algeria, 261
Rali, 157
Religion, 18, 51, 150, 154, 194
Rest and camp, 27
Revival unlikely, 65
Rhamadan, 154
Riding saddle, 13
Rifles replacing swords, 137
Rising of 1916, 136
Robbers’ camp, the, 165
Rock disintegration, 65
Rock drawings, 211
Rodd, Francis, 8
Rogue, a, 106
Routes, old caravan, 66
Ruse, a, 173
S
Saddling up takes time, 13
Sadness, eastern, 23, 153
Sahara from Biskra, 50
Sahara map, 46
Saharan collections, first, 53
Saharan areas, pre-, 52
Sahara, physical nature of, 59
Sahara’s decay, 55, 57, 64, 195
Sahara’s life, key to, 194
Sahara’s population, 67
Sahara, vastness of, 48
Sakari in London, 281
Salt as currency, 111, 127
Salt, method of working, 120, 125
Sand, discomfort of 145, 192
Sand-dunes, 59
Sand encroaching, 51, 65, 192
Sandstorm, 206
Sea of Sand, 17
Sedentary people, 185
Seeking Kahena, 171
Siege jars, 103
Slave caravans, 66
Slaves, Tuareg, 142, 185
Social fabric of Sahara, 189
Speed of camel travel, 82
Spirits, depressed, 163, 209
Stars, 86, 257
Start, time of, 6
Storms, 202, 206, 241
Strain, prolonged, 91
Strange natives, 122
Strategy, 169
Sun-glare, 89
Sun, pitiless, 24, 81, 208
Sun, the rising, 18
T
Taralum, the, 71
Tassili, 59, 220
Terrifying desolation, 81
Thousands of camels, 72, 77, 83
Tigguida n’Tisem, 121
Time of start, 6
Tobacco, craving for, 148, 264
Toilers, the, 191
Toll of the desert, 23
Touggourt, 261
Tracking, skilful, 159
Tragic decay, 67
Travel, formation of, 83
Travel, reason for, 199
Trek starts, a great, 79
Tribal names, 141
Tribes, 63, 67, 115, 122, 131, 140, 191
Tring Museum, 53
Tropical boundary, 53, 54
Tuareg dress, 85, 146
Tuareg encampments, 143, 145
Tuareg features, 151
Tuaregs, 63, 67, 84, 131, 140
Tuaregs idle, 164
Tuareg slaves, 142, 185
Tuareg villages, 189
Tuareg women, 146
V
Vastness of Sahara, 48
Veil, the people of the, 131
Villages abandoned, 57, 67
Villages, Tuareg, 189
Vultures, 225
W
War-wise people, 131
Water, 63, 144, 205, 210, 223
Well, an old, 57
White Feather, 21, 40
Wilderness homes, 143
Wild life, 217, 237
Wild life disappearing, 56
Wind, 81, 145
Wizard, the, 105
Women, Tuareg, 146
Y
Yofa, 158, 177
Z
Zoological boundary, 5
Zoological purpose, 53
Zoological collections, 217
ERRATA
p. 41, line 2 up: for “to great count” read “too great to count.”
p. 72, line 11: for “thes pectacle” read “the spectacle.”
p. 178, line 7 up: for “spas” read “pass.”
p. 286, line 18 up: for “[forward to much,]” read “[forward] too
much.”
THE AUTHOR OF THIS BOOK,
Captain ANGUS BUCHANAN, M.C., F.R.S.G.S.
has written three other books in which those
who have enjoyed ‘Sahara’ will be interested.
EXPLORATION OF AÏR
--OUT OF THE WORLD NORTH
OF NIGERIA--
With Numerous Photographs by
the Author and a Map. --16s.-- net.
‘This graphic record of his travel and adventures will interest a
public far larger than the purely scientific one anxious to learn of
new discoveries.’—_The Times._
‘Mr. Buchanan’s style is vivid and his narrative racy; he touches but
lightly on the hardships he had to endure in this arid section of the
African continent.’—_Nature._
‘Captain Buchanan is one of those travellers who can write, and he has
produced a capital book about his experiences, illustrated by a number
of good photographs.’—_The Outlook._
‘This is one of the best traveller’s books which has been published
lately. It derives its interest both from the places through which
Captain Buchanan travelled, and from the way in which he describes
them. He has the gift of a perfectly individual and natural style,
which allows him to draw vivid pictures of men, animals, and
scenery.’—_New Statesman._
‘Captain Angus Buchanan, M.C., describes the country of the Tuaregs
with charm and clarity, and illustrates the book with his own
photographs.’—_The Graphic._
‘The book before us contains a great deal of information, put forward
with remarkable clearness. . . . The descriptions of the appearance
and habits of these various animals is always vividly put. . . .
The whole narrative is “alive,” in addition to being, as has been
said, a valuable contribution to geography, ethnology, and natural
history.’—_The Shooting Times._
‘We recommend this book to all who are interested in stories of
travel. It is a straightforward account of a difficult and solitary
undertaking perseveringly carried out—and it is not only because
Captain Buchanan tells us that he and his camels travelled for over
1,400 miles, that we are left with a vivid sense of the vast distances
and boundless empty spaces of the Sahara.’—_The Near East._
* * * * *
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, LONDON, W.I
--By Captain Angus Buchanan, M.C., F.R.S.G.S.--
--WILD LIFE IN CANADA--
Numerous Photographs by the Author.
SECOND IMPRESSION. --15s.-- net.
‘Captain Buchanan’s book has the rare charm of an exquisite
simplicity, coupled with a fresh, almost boyish delight in his
questing successes. . . . May “Caribou Antler” soon return to his
beloved North, and give us yet another delightful book.’
_The Sunday Times._
‘The record of his study of birds, beasts and fishes of the Far North
is written not merely with scientific accuracy, but with a broad
outlook that must interest alike the naturalist and the ordinary
layman. . . . The book affords fascinating reading for young and
old.’—_The Daily Telegraph._
‘It is the treasure of the mind and the eye of a man of knowledge
and sensibility, exploring beyond the white man’s frontier of
Saskatchewan. . . . Commend it we can, and do, heartily.’
_The Morning Post._
--THREE YEARS OF WAR IN
EAST AFRICA--
--WITH A FOREWORD BY LORD CRANWORTH--
Numerous Photographs by the Author.
SECOND IMPRESSION. --12s.-- net.
‘A book which is singularly attractive and “African” all over. . . .
His narrative is essentially the story of three years’ soldiering in
Central Africa by a lover of the wild, a traveller in many lands, a
naturalist and sportsman.’—_The Times._
‘Captain Buchanan’s valuable book. . . . It is of great human
interest as a record of the admirable work done by the author’s
battalion.’—_The Spectator._
‘Wonderfully interesting—the author gives thrilling accounts of the
fighting, but the story is more that of a man possessing the spirit
of adventure, an explorer of the wild, a lover of nature, and a
sportsman.’—_Naval and Military Record._
‘This well-written book is intensely inspiring as a study in British
pluck.’—_The Graphic._
* * * * *
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, LONDON, W.I
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Month.]
[Footnote 2: Hyenas.]
[Footnote 3: Hausa for “lion.”]
[Footnote 4: Branded.]
[Footnote 5: It is possible, even probable, that, to some extent,
better conditions of vegetation and rain prevailed, at one time,
throughout the whole Sahara.]
[Footnote 6: Tamascheq: The Tuareg Language.]
[Footnote 7: _Out of the World North of Nigeria_, p. 167.]
[Footnote 8: All the above plants are named in Tamascheq—the Tuareg
language.]
[Footnote 9: They are a recognised white race, akin to some of the
oldest European stocks.]
[Footnote 10: When at leisure the Tuareg wears his gown to the
ankles.]
[Footnote 11: An extremely interesting geographical observation, for
no watercourse exists along that line to-day; which suggests further
evidence of physical change and decay in the Sahara.]
[Footnote 12: Another observation of particular interest. Wells, at
places, are all that remain along that line of territory at the
present time.]
[Footnote 13: The natron is found at Arrighi, about ten hours’
journey north of Bilma.]
[Footnote 14: Usually each camel carries away four cones; the maximum
load is six cones.]
[Footnote 15: I have, so far, failed to elucidate their origin to my
entire satisfaction.]
[Footnote 16: Raid described in _Out of the World North of Nigeria_.]
[Footnote 17: There are times when fuel is one of the most important
items that a caravan must carry.]
[Footnote 18: Some time later there was a raid some distance away,
and my Tuaregs swore that our brief visitors were concerned in it;
but by that time we were too far off for me to make sure that there
was a definite reason for connecting the two occurrences.]
[Footnote 19: For scientific names of all species see Appendix I.
M. signifies migrant. B. signifies new subspecies.]
[Footnote 20: For scientific names of all species see Appendix II.
(A) signifies New Species. (B) signifies New Subspecies.]
[Footnote 21: This death is referred to in Chapter III.]
Transcriber's note:
pg 293 Changed: Musicapa albicollis to: Muscicapa
pg 294 Changed: Falco biarmicus abssinicus to: abyssinicus
The changes suggested in the Errata have been made
Errata moved from pg 3 to: after Index
Other spelling inconsistencies have been left unchanged
Italicized, bold and underlined text indicated with '_' and '--' and
'~', respectively