WeRead Powered by ReaderPub
Through Timbuctu and across the great Sahara / cover

Through Timbuctu and across the great Sahara /

Chapter 28: APPENDIX
By A. H. W. Haywood
Open in WeRead

Explore more books like this:

Travel Writing

About This Book

A travel account traces an overland expedition from the West African coast into the Niger watershed and across the Sahara to the Mediterranean, blending practical journey notes with ethnographic observation. It documents climate and landscape, including dry desert winds, mountain ranges, rivers, and the challenges of long marches and changing carriers. Encounters with local communities describe social customs, secret societies, burial rites, markets, music, and responses to colonial frontiers and conflict. Natural history and hunting recur throughout, alongside discussions of trade, smuggling, and the daily logistics of travel in remote regions.

The Oasis of Ouargla

This place might appropriately be called one of the outposts of civilization in the Northern Sahara. After crossing over 1300 miles of desert one sees for the first time a collection of flat-roofed houses, a market-place full of bargaining, gesticulating Arabs, and that most evident sign of civilization the electric telegraph. Ouargla exists by reason of her date trade. Here is grown the finest date of commerce, viz. the dessert date as we know it in England.

There is rather a pathetic story attached to this spring. About two months earlier, an Arab and his wife were journeying from the north towards Insalah. They had missed their way and exhausted their water supply. First, all their camels died by the road, one by one overcome with thirst. The man and his wife struggled on, hoping to find the spring of El Guettera, and well aware that it could not be far off. The woman next succumbed, but the man kept on, dragging himself wearily along, buoyed with the hope that he must be close to water. The distance, however, was greater than he had thought, and he too died. His body was discovered a few days later by a passing caravan. He had actually arrived within half a mile of the spring, and if he had only known this, poor fellow, he would probably have had strength to reach it!

All this time I had been practising doing valet and cook to myself with indifferent success. I knew sufficient about cooking, of course, to be able to make simple dishes for myself, having frequently done this before, as must anyone who wishes to travel. But when I arrived at the halting-place, generally after a long, hot march, I felt anything but inclined to begin to cook my own repast. Moreover, the difficulties caused by periodic gusts of sand, from which we were not exempt here, made the effort of cooking most fatiguing. At night, too, I used often to feel very disinclined to make my own bed, and again to pack it up when we started once more. Indeed, latterly, I used infinitely to prefer to sleep on one blanket on the sand to getting out my bed and pitching it, with its paraphernalia of bedding. The two Arabs were far too busy with their camels and too ignorant of cooking in any form to be of the slightest assistance. The same argument applied to the soldier “Méhariste.” All these people live practically on a handful of raw dates, and any form of food different from this is unknown to them. How I envied them their simple tastes sometimes!

The range of El Guettera forms the south-western border of the plateau of Tademayt. This rocky plateau runs in a north-and-south direction, and at its foot lies the region of the oases, viz. Insalah, Touat, Beni Abbes, and the eastern extremity of Colomb Béchar. Its elevation above the sea is about 1600 feet. On climbing up to the top of this plateau we had to follow a precipitous track, on each side of which was a deep chasm. In the chasms could be seen the bones of camels, which had evidently, at different times, lost their footing and perished. Fortunately for us we reached the summit in safety, but many times a camel’s foot slipped, and his fate hung in the balance. As we progressed across the plateau the surface became more sandy and level. Pasturage, too, was more plentiful, and that night, the 18th of June, we camped in a fine wide “oued,” called by the name of Musa Benaïsch, and the camels fairly revelled in the pasturage here, for it was the first good feed they had had since leaving Insalah, and in any case they infinitely preferred the “acheb” here to the diet of dates to which they had so long been accustomed.

Near this spot we came upon an encampment of Chaamba Arabs. They had a large number of camels and sheep. This was the first time that I had seen any sheep since leaving Adrar. Of course, they refused to part with any, so our hopes of fresh meat were soon dashed to the ground. There had been no signs of game hitherto, as indeed was only natural, for there was nothing for them to eat, but now that “oueds” were becoming more plentiful we noticed tracks of Loder’s gazelle from time to time.

On the 29th of June we quitted the Tademayt plateau and descended on to a wide plain of gravelly soil. This plain was flanked on the east and west by the two great sandy deserts known as the Eastern and Western “Great Erg” respectively. The character of the country in the “Great Erg” is unique in the Sahara. The word “erg” in Arabic means sand-hill. And these two vast deserts consist of wide expanses of dunes of soft sand. They stretch almost uninterruptedly from Morocco on the west to Tripoli on the east. Marching in this dreary region is most difficult for man and beast. At every step the feet sink deep into the sand. Moreover the sand drifts on account of the usual prevalent north-east wind, frequently changing the appearance of the sand-hills to such an extent that guides lose their landmarks and miss the way.

But although these “erg” appear so barren there is a fair amount of Saharan vegetation, and pasturage for camels is not difficult to obtain. The sand is a dazzling yellowish white, but in some instances one sees several ridges of reddish sand, showing out very distinctly in contrast to the ordinary colour. From here to the next well it was a two days’ march. We had already had several examples of our guide’s incompetence. He often appeared to be at fault. But it was not till now that he actually lost the way. He would, I am convinced, have never found it had it not been for the “Méhariste.” This man was a typical nomad of the Sahara, and, although having only once previously travelled by this route, he managed to lead us out of our difficulties to Hassy Inifel. “Hassy” is the word for “well,” so that nearly every well has the word “hassy” prefixed to its name in the Central Sahara.

At Inifel there is a stone block-house, built by the French some years ago, when this was a military post. In it there were two comfortable rooms, where we could rest from the heat of the day. We were now about half-way to Ouargla, and so the sight of Inifel cheered us up, making us feel that we had left another milepost behind.

From Inifel the way lay north-east, following close to a big “oued”—the Oued Mya. This dried-up waterway runs for about 200 miles north-north-east to Ouargla, and must have been an important river in its day.

Between Inifel and the next well, called Zmeila, there was a long march of three days, which took us over ninety-five miles of stony ground, lying several miles to the west of the “oued.” In this country the camels had rather a rough time, for there was practically no pasturage for them, and our guide, with his usual ignorance, or want of foresight, had not arranged to carry any food for them. To add to his delinquencies, the stupid rascal again lost the way. At the time we were marching at night. He had pointed to his “sokrar” the direction in which he said the well lay, while he made an excuse for dropping in rear of the caravan. I thought he was an unusually long time in regaining his place, and so turned back to see what he was doing. I found him peacefully sleeping on a baggage camel, and, had I not been so angry, I could not have helped laughing at the humorous spectacle that met my eyes. He was in a crouching position, half lying on his stomach, with his legs firmly clasped round the camel’s hump. How on earth he could manage to sleep in this extraordinary posture was more than I could understand. His appearance suggested a sack of potatoes thrown over the animal’s back! I applied my riding-whip pretty freely to a certain portion of his anatomy, and he awoke with a start, nearly losing the balance he had so marvellously preserved hitherto.

When he had rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and seemed to realize the situation, he looked ahead of him into the expanse of desert and solemnly declared that we were lost. He said he did not in the least know where we were, and that it was the “sokrar’s” fault for not keeping the direction he had given him. We soon came to the conclusion that he was speaking the truth with regard to not knowing where we were, and as to the reason how this had happened it appeared to be immaterial. It is a strange thing how philosophical one becomes in the desert, and the position, which was really sufficiently serious to cause anxiety, did not disturb our equanimity as much as it should have done.

The Residency at Touggourt

The official who resides here is a military officer, and administers a large portion of the Sahara, south of Algeria, called the “Annexe of Touggourt.” This oasis boasts of a small hotel and is visited by some of the more enterprising tourists from Biskra occasionally. The distance to Biskra is only 125 miles, which can be covered in two days by the desert coach running between the two places.

Chaamba Arabs at Touggourt

A desert caravan has just arrived; the camels have been unloaded and are going to water. The bags in the foreground are the familiar “tellis” of the Northern Sahara. They are made of camel’s hair, are very strong, and are used to carry dates.

The only thing to do was to strike in the direction in which we knew the “Oued Mya” must lie, and then follow its course up towards the well which lay in its bed. As the “oued” wound about considerably this would lengthen our march a good deal, but this seemed a more prudent course than to make blind “casts” in the desert.

As matters turned out, the “Méhariste” again came to the rescue when day dawned. He rode out at a trot some distance in advance of the caravan, to scout, and, after an hour or so, he returned with the information that he could find the well, without the need for further lengthening our march. He acted up to his promise, and we thus did not go more than some ten miles out of our way. After this our journey was accomplished without further incident to Ouargla, where we arrived on June 29th.

The day before our arrival we passed a small oasis, in which there lived an influential Arab chief. This man invited me to have breakfast with him. Knowing that he would be hurt if I refused, and also that it would be considered, by the custom of the country, that I wished to insult him if I did not accept his hospitality, I agreed to come.

My heart misgave me when I saw the nature of the feast provided. There were several huge dishes of oily-looking food, the contents of which could only be guessed at. One looked less uninviting than the others. It consisted of rice with some spices, so I hastily indicated that I would take some of that. But I soon discovered that I was not to get off so easily. I was expected to partake of all the dishes. Moreover, if I did not help myself liberally, some hospitably-inclined follower of the chief would fill up my plate for me. I groaned inwardly at the thought of having to eat these horrible-looking things. Finally, I said I was ill after my long travels and could not eat well, so I hoped the chief would excuse my small appetite. But the repast was not yet finished. A whole sheep roasted was now produced. This is prepared in some strange fashion, being well ladled with oil and covered with chili peppers, and is the pièce de résistance at an Arab feast. It is called a “meshoui.” All this time the chief was eating with great gusto, and what he could not himself consume he handed to his followers, of whom there must have been at least half a dozen present. Their manner of eating was anything but pleasant to watch, especially when I was feeling far from well after partaking of some of these horrible dishes.

It took me a long time to recover from the effects of that meal, and I vowed that at the risk of offending the whole of the Arab race, never again would I consent to touch one of their repasts. When I related this story to the officers at Ouargla they laughed heartily, but said they did not wonder at my being ill!

The country all round Ouargla for many miles is soft sand and undulating. The oasis itself lies in a basin surrounded by low sand-hills. There are about 3000 sedentary inhabitants, and in the date season this number is increased by nomads who come in for dates as they do at Insalah. Ouargla is famed for its fine dates. These are of the best quality, viz. the “deglet-nour.” Large quantities are exported every year to Biskra, whence they are sent to Europe.

The Mosques at Ouargla

These narrow, tall mud towers are ascended by a steep and tortuous stairway. At the summit is a small platform on to which the “muezzin” climbs when he summons the faithful to prayer. These Arabs are one and all fervent Mohammedans; a mixture of creeds such as obtains in India finds no favour with them. The European is to them a Christian dog whose presence is only tolerated because he is feared.

From Ouargla to Insalah it was 390 miles, and we had covered this distance in fifteen days, without halting for more than a few hours at a time. This was pretty good going, and our camels were now showing decided signs of fatigue. I was anxious to move again as soon as possible, as time was getting very short. There were still 100 miles of desert between us and Touggourt. I therefore only stayed two days in order to enable the guide to change the tired camels, and on the 1st of July we again set forth.

Between Ouargla and Touggourt there are wells almost every day, and except for the heat there was nothing very trying in the marches compared with what had gone before. I was now travelling very light. I had discarded my tent and bed as useless. My stock of provisions was very low, and at Ouargla I had given away a lot of ammunition, so that now my effects were not numerous. One baggage camel amply sufficed for my needs. On the 3rd of July we arrived at the oasis of Touggourt.

The signs of better accommodation and more comforts in the everyday existence of the inhabitants had been already apparent at Ouargla, but at Touggourt this was all the more so. Indeed, from Ouargla the telegraph runs across the desert to Touggourt and the north, while at Touggourt itself there are such signs of civilization as a small hotel and, of course, the coach to Biskra. At both these towns the Europeans live in well-built houses, some of which are of stone.

At Touggourt I enjoyed the real luxury of a douche. The officers there have an ingeniously contrived douche in their gardens, which is fed by an artesian well. The joy of a proper bath was really indescribable.

Touggourt is already within touch of civilization, for tourists, or a few of the most enterprising among them, come here by the coach in the Biskra season, and put up at the curious little hotel of which the place boasts.

From the top of the big mosque at Touggourt a splendid view is to be had over the desert. I went up there one day with a French officer to have a good look at the desolate region in which I had spent so many days.

I now counted my journey as practically finished.

On the 5th of July I took the coach to Biskra, where we arrived early on the 7th. The coach consists of a ramshackle vehicle, holding three people on the front and three on the back seat. For the first sixty-six miles it is drawn by mules, and for the last eighty-six miles the team consists of three ponies. The track is well defined, but rather heavy going through deep, soft sand. Sometimes the passengers have to get out and help to extricate the cart from the ruts into which it has sunk. The traveller gets well shaken up on the journey, but after a long ride on camels one hardly noticed that. The French sergeant accompanied me as far as Biskra. Biskra did, indeed, mean civilization. Here there was the railway to Algiers, and the fatigues of travelling were made easy. At Biskra there are some six or seven hotels, all of which were empty when I passed through. The season is in the winter, and at that time of year a considerable number of people visit this outpost of civilization. Date palms are numerous, and all water is still obtained from wells. But at Biskra there is no lack of water close to the surface of the ground. At Touggourt the water is so salt that all Europeans have to drink it distilled, but this is not necessary at Biskra.

This oasis is a beautiful spot. Amongst a grove of palms will be seen a pretty little house, by the side of which is a garden well stocked with beautiful green shrubs and flowers. All irrigation is easy here, as water is so plentiful. Hence the contrast as one emerges from the desert into this paradise of verdure and colour is very striking.

I spent only two hours at Biskra. I had just time to don my one and only flannel suit after drinking a cup of coffee, and pay my respects to the officer in command of the garrison, when I had to be back at the railway station, for my train left at 8.30 that morning.

CHAPTER XXV

By rail to Algiers — A difficult project — The resources of the Sahara

AS I settled myself in the railway carriage I had ample food for reflection over the events of my journey. Naturally the part that had made the most impression on me in many ways was the journey across the Sahara. It had taken me exactly seventy-five days to cover the total distance from Gao to Biskra, nearly 1600 miles. Now that the strain was over I began to feel really fatigued. It was pleasant to sit quietly in the train and watch the passing landscape, so different from what I had been looking at for many a long day.

First the train climbed laboriously up the steep sides of the mountains, which lead up into the high plateaux of Southern Algeria. As we stopped at stations and I noticed the number of Europeans about and the bustle that reigned everywhere as soon as the train stopped, it seemed hard to realize that I was not dreaming, and that I should not shortly wake up to find myself again in the Sahara—among those familiar scenes that I had got to know so well, and which were all summed up in the one word desolation.

But as we got on to the plateaux above Biskra we came into a land of peace and plenty. There were miles upon miles of waving fields of wheat and barley. Prosperous farms were often to be seen standing in the midst of their rich agricultural lands. That year there had been a good rainfall on the plateaux, and in consequence the crops had done even better than usual.

That night we arrived at the big town of Setif, where I had to change and wait several hours for the midnight express to Algiers. I had engaged a sleeping-berth on the train, so I had a comfortable journey to the capital. When I awoke in the morning we were passing through rich vineyards, down the western slopes of the Kabyle Mountains.

I had travelled 3758 miles across Africa, 1560 of which had been through the Sahara. The whole journey had occupied six months and two days. My stay at Algiers was short. I caught the first steamer available to Marseilles, where I arrived on the 11th of June.

On the following night I reached London, travelling via Calais and Dover.

I was two days late for my leave, but under the circumstances I had travelled as rapidly as possible.

After what I saw of the Sahara I came to the conclusion that the project of building a railway across from Algeria to the Niger is never likely to mature. Indeed, I fancy that most Frenchmen who have any experience of the Central Sahara long ago came to the same opinion.

The scheme was mooted some years ago as a useful connecting link between the Algerian railway system and the Niger. The difficulties in the way of carrying this out are almost insuperable. To start with, there is no coal in Algeria or, of course, in the Sahara. Again, if the difficulty of obtaining fuel could be overcome the constant sandstorms would make engineering works hard to construct and harder still to maintain. The railway line would probably be constantly buried in sand, so that some contrivance for clearing the way in front of the engine would be necessary. Moreover, what would be the advantages gained by the construction of such a railway?

The resources of the Sahara are practically nil, while the total values of the caravans which cross this portion of it do not amount to 1,000,000 francs per annum. Therefore as a commercial enterprise the railway could never pay, and the advantage of having this shorter line of communication between Western Soudan and France, if it could be constructed, would not certainly be worth the enormous expenditure involved. Of course, there is always the difficulty of water supply for the engines. Even along the most practicable route, from Insalah to Gao, wells are few and far between. The output is frequently very slow. Artesian wells would have to be made where possible. In fact, it appears that the resources of the Sahara are so very restricted and incapable of further development unless great mineral wealth be somewhere found, that its future state is not likely to be any brighter than its present condition. The question as to what the Sahara was originally is an interesting one.

The Arabs who wander in the desert around the Oases of Touat and Beni Abbes declare that in ancient times these oases were islands, and that a very big water existed between them and the sea and between them and Taudény in the south.

It seems possible that this theory is correct, for there is a marked depression formed by the Oued Mya, which extends south through the oases towards Taudény, eventually terminating in a big basin, called El Djouf, or “the belly of the desert.” Further, from the formation of the country it seems quite possible that the salt-water lakes, or “chotts” of Tunisia, which themselves are, or were, connected with the sea, contributed their waters to this depression, and thus there was at one time a practically uninterrupted waterway from the sea to Taudény. The water from this source then surrounded the oases, isolating them from the rest of the Sahara, which would bear out the legend of these Arab tribes.

APPENDIX

  • List of principal game shot during the expedition, showing the measurements of best heads obtained.
  • Oryx leucoryx, 37 inches.
  • Addax, 25½ inches.
  • Gazelle, dorcas, 10¾ inches.
  • Gazelle, Loder’s leptoceros, 11¼ inches.
  • Ditto, female, 9¼ inches.
  • Gazelle, Rufifrons, 10½ inches.
  • Haartebeest, Bubalis, 18¼ inches.
  • Haartebeest, Damaliscus Corrigum, 19¾ inches.
  • Duiker, Yellow-backed, 6¼ inches.
  • Duiker, Crowned.
  • Duiker, Maxwell’s, 2 inches.
  • Waterbuck, Sing-sing, 28 inches.
  • Kobus Kob, 20½ inches.
  • Bohor Reed-buck, 8½ inches.
  • Elephant. Tusks weighing 52 lbs. each.
  • Lion. Length along the contour, 9 feet 2 inches.
  • Hippopotamus. Measurements not recorded.
  • Bushcow. Measurements not recorded.

INDEX