FALCONERS.
This was the only occasion on which I saw firearms in any numbers, the Arabs generally concealing them—often under their beds so as to have them handy.
In the guest-room a camel’s-hair tent hung, rolled up under the roof. When the men wander forth after the rainfall to hunt or to sow, the tent is packed on a camel and taken with them.
The Sheikh informed me that the inhabitants of Tamezred number some five hundred souls. Of these about a hundred men can be armed; they mostly fight on foot, as horses are rare in these mountains; in Tamezred there are only seven, but there are many hundreds of camels, about a hundred cows, as many small donkeys, and large herds of sheep and goats. These graze on the plains, far away towards Bir Sultan and Bir Zuamitz, watched by the men of the village.
When the rain falls, all the men and some of the women go off to the plains to plough and sow; they live in tents, and their sheikhs accompany them and hunt gazelle and other game. Only a few old men remain in the villages to guard the women and children.
It is not the people of Tamezred alone who thus migrate, but also those from other mountain villages, as Zaraua and Tujud. Hadeij, in the Matmata mountains, feeds its herds in the plain south-west of the range beside the course of the river Wad Halluf.
The village of Tamezred is crowned at the top by a minaret, and lower down, amongst the houses, are several Marabout tombs with vaulted cupolas. Only one of these, the grave of Sid Hadj Yussuf, is limewashed and gleams white in the sunshine; the most part are grey, and at a distance it is scarcely possible to distinguish the buildings from the rocks.
On a height outside the village is raised a great surveyor’s landmark, visible for miles, and corresponding to others on the peaks of the Matmata mountains. These points of observation were raised by a French officer for the purpose of making a survey, which will surely be carried out ere long.
Having now attained the most westerly inhabited point of the Matmata mountains, we took an easterly direction, again following steep paths and deep gorges to reach the real Matmata villages, of which Lasheish is the largest.
In a deep valley on the way we found some half-score men occupied in clearing an old circular well built of unhewn stone. They told me that this supposed well was discovered quite recently. It dates from the time of the Romans, at least so report says, but it may be even more ancient, for no one remembers either having seen or heard of it.
The sand, which they drew up in rough baskets, was only slightly moist, but the fact of its being so gave them good hope, though they had already reached a depth of over one hundred and fifty feet.
Later in the day we passed a kubba, said to be the burial-place of a female Marabout. This lay, completely ruined, on a ridge between two crests of the mountain. I wanted to peep in, but my guides requested me not to do so.
From this point is a view of a wide valley, to the north of which are the mountains, and behind them lies Hadeij. Beyond the range we had a glimpse, through a haze, of the plains of Gabés and, far out, of the Mediterranean Sea.
In the valley below stood a whitewashed, square, cupola-topped Marabout tomb, that of “Sid Barrak.” I let my attendants go on a little in advance and sneaked in, first tying up my horse outside. The room was square, with a vaulted roof. In the centre of the floor stood a high square frame of carved wood, beneath which the saint was evidently buried. In each corner of the frame was stuck a flag. On the ground, along the whitewashed walls, were earthern pots, such as are used by the negroes; they were apparently sooty from use. Above were sketched, in black, lines, circles, and figures that reminded me of the Berber alphabet.
Just as I was copying these ornaments in my sketch-book, Hamed and Belkassim stepped in.
Hamed desired me to put on my burnous and draw the hood over my head before I left, so that no one should discover that I had entered; and Belkassim suggested that I should put some coins into a bag that hung on the wooden frame, and which was provided for the offerings of pilgrims, given to defray the expenses of illuminating the Marabout’s tomb at the festivals; often celebrated, he said, by the women in or near the tomb. I did as he desired.
Outside, in the vicinity of the tomb, were dug low underground chambers, into which I crept. Scattered within was pottery, some broken, a few pieces entire. They had been used, and there were also traces of a fireplace and smoke stains on the roof, all suggestive of the above-mentioned festivals. Both Belkassim and Hamed murmured a few prayers at the grave, and when they had finished their devotions we remounted. Belkassim looked carefully round as we emerged. There was not a single soul in sight, so he winked mischievously at me, and we went our way.
We were now again on undulating ground of hard chalk and clay, cultivated in very good ridge and furrow, and planted with palms and olives. In the distance we perceived several white spots in the valley. These were the Marabouts of Lasheish, the large troglodyte village. Meanwhile we were compelled to make a long détour, as we were in most impassable country, cut up as it was by the numberless large brooks, always found on either side of great rivers.
On a slope was a little white limekiln, whence smoke was rising. By it were piled large faggots of wood, seeing which I began to realise how much brushwood must, in course of time, have been consumed in these limekilns, and then understood why the natives of the Matmata do not, as a rule, whitewash their houses.
Lasheish is not under the authority of the Khalifa of Hadeij, but under that of his colleague of Gabés. In other respects it is exactly similar to Hadeij.
Knowing that the women here weave materials for burnouses, clothing, towels, and, in fact, all that appertains to the garb of the country, I decided on making some purchases. The cave to which I was conducted became, therefore, during the period of my stay, a regular shop, people coming in from all parts with goods for sale.
Fortunately, Mansur arrived on a visit, partly for the purpose of inviting guests to the wedding feast; partly, so as to accompany me on my way back to Hadeij. He materially assisted me in making my many purchases, and in securing them at fairly reasonable prices. But the bargaining was neither an easy nor a pleasant task for him, as our host always sided with the vendors. They quarrelled violently the whole time, and frequently, before completing a reasonable bargain, I had to throw the article repeatedly back on the seller’s hands. A gala burnous, I remember, was walked in and out of the door seven times; on each occasion with a decided command that it should not reappear before my eyes unless the price were reduced to about an eighth of what was first asked. Each time the owner returned, he abated a little and the haggling was renewed. With the air of a connoisseur I would re-examine the burnous, only to arrive at the same conclusion—it was far too dear. So again it was returned to the owner, who was at once pushed aside by other vendors.
Belkassim and Hamed vied with each other in shouts of abuse. There was a regular storm, and what a blessed calm when the bargaining was ended.
The simplest sale cannot take place without these folk abusing one another as if their lives depended on it.
Not having allowed myself to be cheated, I had rather risen than fallen in the natives’ estimation. The men, who a moment before had seemed to feel bitter enmity towards me and my guides, and who had often been harshly turned out of the room, now sat comfortably in peace and quiet beside me, watching me eat.
After dinner I took a turn through the village, but soon perceived that I was being led about much as foreign officers are at great military manœuvres in Europe, when they are shown everything except what they are most desirous of seeing. I was, therefore, soon ready to depart; all the more so, as I observed that the caves were all on the same lines of construction as those I had already examined at Hadeij.
Just as we were about to mount our horses, a man approached us. Cringing humbly and miserably, he dragged himself to my horse and kissed my hand. I was told he was the owner of the dog which had bitten Hamed’s horse yesterday. He came to entreat me not to inform the Khalifa of the occurrence, as he feared he might be cast into prison. Having told him that I was sure the Khalifa would be lenient, I spurred my horse and rode off; but my reply did not at all satisfy the penitent, who rushed to my side and clung to my clothing. I was near being angry, when my host came forward and explained that should the Khalifa hear that I had been molested on the way, the man would not escape punishment. Therefore he and the people of Lasheish implored that I would entirely refrain from reporting to the Khalifa the mishap that had befallen us.
I glanced down at the culprit, and nearly burst out laughing; he looked so ridiculous. Never do I remember having seen a more hypocritical and debased countenance.
I preserved my gravity, however, promised to keep silence, and put out my hand to take leave. The culprit literally snatched it to his mouth, and I heard him calling down the blessings of Allah upon me.
In an open square, planted with palms, the date harvest was in progress. The golden bunches which hung on the green crowns fell to the blows of a curved knife. Lightly clad men, boys, and even a young girl, worked in the tree-tops; climbing quickly and adroitly up and down the rough surface of the straight stems. Below, men and women collected the bunches in great clusters, which they placed in rush panniers, and removed on the backs of small donkeys.
It was difficult to tear myself away from this idyll, but we had to press forward, so I hurried up my little escort, and we marched on over the mountains.
Mansur had much difficulty in keeping up with me, being very heavy, and accustomed to ride a mule rather than a horse. There was always something wrong with his saddle, and he was perpetually dismounting to alter first one thing, then another, thus being left farther and farther behind. We were obliged at last to halt, to allow him to rejoin us, though time was passing, and sunset was near.
A little distance from Hadeij we found, at the bottom of the valley, a little donkey standing quite alone, feeding on some straw. Belkassim said that if left there at night the jackals would soon make away with it.
It was almost dark when we crossed the river and rode up to the village.
Again I saw the boys romping in the square amongst the palms. Their glad voices reached my ear, and when they caught sight of me they ran up to us followed by their barking dogs.
The men, grouped beneath the trees, rose and came forward to press my hand. The Khalifa also rose to receive me. I thanked him for the delightful trip he had arranged for me.
“I am glad that you are satisfied; glad to see you here again; and that you will stay with me, your brother, even for forty years.”
Of course these speeches must not be taken literally, they only express the kindly feeling of the speaker towards oneself.
After I had dined in my cave I sallied out to the Khalifa’s dwelling to be present, in accordance with his invitation, at the festivities held in honour of the third day.
As I did not like the old man to be inconvenienced by having to sit on a chair because I did so, I suggested that we should sit together amongst the other men. To this he agreed.
Gradually there arrived numbers of men from all the surrounding country; these sat tightly packed on the banks, as on the previous occasion.
Again the negroes danced, the drums boomed, and the clarionets screamed; whilst the Khalifa, his sons, and myself sat together in a friendly group looking on.
Now and then the women sang, but, as far as I could understand, neither bride nor bridegroom were mentioned in their songs, certainly not the latter.
It was hard to keep awake. Belkassim’s little son nestled up to me, and, as it grew chilly, I wrapped my burnous about him, and he was soon asleep. The monotonous music induced drowsiness; I fought valiantly against it, which was more than Hamed did, for I suddenly found him snoring beside me, wrapped in his burnous. I let him repose, but from that moment conversation betwixt myself and my foreign surroundings was limited to the simplest compliments.
In the course of the afternoon the Khalifa invited me to come back again and be present at the special bridal festival to be held five days later. I promised to return.
Next morning—the 20th October—I left Hadeij to ride back to Gabés. I took leave of the Khalifa, with many expressions of goodwill, adding, “May you soon have rain, that your olive trees may neither wither nor die.”
Just as we reached the first height, Mansur, who had volunteered to follow me to Gabés, pointed out how coal-black the heavens were in the direction of the sea, and how the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled, saying, “Allah has heard your good wish. It will rain in the Matmata mountains.”
When we descended into the plain, the rain pelted in our faces. We put on our burnouses, pulled the hoods over our heads, and hurried on. A moment after, we were wet through.
Mansur continually lagged behind; it was difficult for him to keep up, and he begged us to ride on without waiting for him.
Once we passed a shepherd with his flock; the sheep were all huddled together, the goats apart, whilst he had taken shelter under a bush.
We crossed a couple of river beds which, when I passed a few days ago, had been dry and parched; now the water rushed over them in a rapid stream. However our horses crossed easily, and I started at a gallop, pushing quickly through rain and slough, with the mud flying up to my ears, till, the ground presently growing too slippery, I was again reduced to going at foot’s pace.
The palm grove of El Hamdu gleamed through the rain, but before we could reach the oasis the river had to be crossed. The ford amongst the tamarisk and oleander bushes we found easily, but the torrent ran high. I urged my horse forward, and he went slowly through the water till he suddenly slipped and fell, wetting me to the middle. I tried to turn him back, but the current swept us to the side, and at last I gave up the struggle, being afraid that my books and sketches might get wet. Then I caught sight of Hamed, and saw his horse, which was laden both before and behind the saddle with my purchases, plunging about in the swirling stream, and splashing the water in every direction. I shouted to him to turn back.
We then followed the course of the river a long way up, and tried to cross several times, but without success.
A herd of little, thin, brown cattle walked along the banks; they had got separated, and some were on either side of the river. They had apparently no guardian, and were evidently endeavouring to rejoin each other. Occasionally one of them would plunge into the water, only to be driven back to the bank by the current, and we heard the distressed bellowing of the divided herd.
At last, at a spot where the river was very broad, we succeeded in crossing without mishap, but the water reached above the horses’ girths.
We then returned along the banks to the ford, where we waited for half an hour before Mansur’s white horse appeared on the opposite shore. The rain poured down incessantly, and our horses pawed the ground impatiently, eager to get on, but we were compelled to wait to direct Mansur where to cross.
“To the left! to the left!” we shouted; but Mansur had drawn his burnous so closely over his head that he could neither see nor hear, and not till he was close to the river were we able to attract his attention; then he also crossed safely, and we continued our way.
In the neighbourhood of the oasis we could hear the El Hamdu folk crying and lamenting the rainfall. The date harvest of the oasis was not ended, and, until it was over, water was injurious to the dates. What is good for the olives and the barley fields is injurious to the palms, the chief source of subsistence of the people of the oases. All over the world the agriculturist is the same.
Involuntarily I recollected a certain old fellow, a countryman of mine, in a town in Jutland, who, sitting at his dinner-table one day, complained loudly that the Almighty had not taken pity on the poor country folk and sent them a little rain for their rye-fields; when, at the very same instant, there was a loud clap of thunder, and rain suddenly pelted down without any warning. He at once jumped up, rushed to the window and exclaimed, “Oh, the devil! now all my peat is gone to ———!”
Step by step our horses splashed on through the puddles; it was almost impossible to quicken our pace; so it was late in the day when we reached Gabés, to find everything standing in pools.
The river had not been so swollen for many years, and had done much damage.
Luckily, neither my sketches nor my purchases had suffered.
The Matmata mountains form the northern spur of the comparatively small range which, in a curved line, follows more or less the bend of the coast. Leaving a low stretch of land between itself and the sea, this range runs first along the coast-line to the south of Jurat (of which more hereafter), then continues right into Tripoli, being broken only at intervals.
Here and there it is inhabited by Berber tribes, who are indeed Mohammedans, but have in great measure retained unchanged their primitive habits and customs.
In the mountains Ghurian and Jefren, to the south of Tripoli, are found the brave independent kinsmen of the Berbers of Tunisia. They recall with pride the exploits of their ancestors, and rear their sons to be a free people and to labour. Therefore they have maintained their intelligence and intellectual superiority, and have been able to defy foreign rule, though not always with equal success. For example, in the Jebel Jefren originated all the disturbances which have occurred during the Turkish occupation of Tripoli.
North of Jebel Jefren is Jebel Nefusa, also inhabited by Berbers, some of whom speak a dialect resembling the language of the Tuareg. The greater proportion of these are supposed to be descendants of the Libyans, who conquered the country before the Arabs, and who, like these last, came also from the East.
It is the custom among some of the Nefus tribes, in common with that of the Uled Nail of Algeria, that their young women, for a time before marriage, abandon themselves to prostitution. This practice naturally reminds one of the ancient cult of Astarte.
Tarik, conqueror of the Spaniards, was a Berber, a native of Jebel Nefusa. Perchance he was one of the race who had owned allegiance to Jewish sway. At any rate, after he conquered Spain, the Jews there were treated by him with marked consideration. In his case, as in that of so many Berbers who were drawn into the mighty current of Mohammedanism, they never became fanatical Moslems, and the same may be said at the present day.
Though indeed, like their kindred race the Tuareg, they became Mohammedans (perhaps many of them had been under Christian influence—at least there are signs of it), they are not fanatics. They have no special religious order, and they belong to the so-called fifth sect, and are unacquainted with any ritual.
Not a few of these Berbers reside in caves, “Jebel Ghurian” meaning literally “the Mountain of Caves.” Before these cave dwellers became Mohammedans, they raised altars to God; and, according to travellers, very ancient stone monuments, dating from a period previous to that of the Arabs, are to be found everywhere in these regions. They resemble those found in Algeria, in Andalusia, and even in Brittany.
The language of the country on the borders of Tripoli and Tunisia is partly Arabic, partly Berber. It is probable that in earlier times the Berber tongue was spoken from Jebel Jefren over Duirat to Matmata.
Books written in the Berber language are not to be found here; so far as we know (manuscripts have been discovered on the island of Jerba), the Berber dialect being written in Arabic characters.
I ascertained that the language of Southern Tunisia is still spoken in the villages of Zaraua, Tamezred, Tujud, Shenini, Ghermasi, and Duirat (as also on the island of Jerba), and in part of Urghamma.
From Jebel Jefren to the Matmata mountains, the lively natives closely resemble each other in their expressive eyes, happy dispositions, and ready smile. Contrasted with the Arab, their countenances are shorter and broader, and their hair less black.
They are essentially a free race. An assembly of the people in the villages of Southern Tunisia, known as the “Miad,” settles tribal questions, according to a local code (kanun) which is based on ancient rules and customs, and is even more highly revered than the Koran.
As arable land is extremely valuable, and the inhabitants of the barren mountains are comparatively numerous, it has been the custom from time immemorial, in Southern Tunisia at least, that the young men should go to the coast towns in order to earn money, wherewith, on their return, to buy a house, palms, cattle, and a wife; alike in this respect to the Savoyards and Auvergnats who quit their hearths and homes for a time.
In the towns these mountaineers live with the utmost frugality, sleeping generally by the roadside, and earning their bread by all sorts of work, such as water-carrying, domestic service, etc.
When in 1881-1882 the French army invaded the mountains of Southern Tunisia, they were astonished to find that many of the natives spoke French.
The “Ksar” dwellers are brave and hardy, and accustomed to “hear the powder speak.” Their delight used to be to sally out on a raid, when they made matters hot for all concerned. They were not ordinary thieves—no, weapon in hand they fell on their adversaries, who could never feel secure from a coup de main.
On the other hand, they, in their inaccessible and fortified eyries, were prepared to defend themselves.
Their plundering raids extended over the Tripolitan frontier, even as far as Rhadamés. They always plundered thoroughly. Dr. Bertholon states that when he, as military surgeon, served in the campaign against them, they not only seized all the herds, but even the clothes of their victims. So completely did they strip prisoners, that these would be left with only a scrap of shirt which barely covered them.
The people of the adjacent oases on the plain and towards the “Shotts,” who are more peaceful and phlegmatic, the circumstances of their lives being better, have often suffered from the attacks and depredations of the mountaineers, when they have not chosen to purchase immunity by paying blackmail to the latter.
Dr. Bertholon maintains that monogamy is usual amongst them, but my experience leads me to a different conclusion, since the men of rank with whom I came in contact had generally several wives.
The abduction of women was not uncommon in earlier times, when the armed inhabitants of the Ksar used to carry off their wives by force.
That they had to guard their women carefully is not strange, since these have the reputation of being light of morals.
One custom is universal amongst these people; it is that at the wedding the bridegroom shows his bride a heavy stick, of which one end that he holds to her nose is thoroughly and sweetly scented. The interpretation of this custom being that so long as she conducts herself properly, her life will be mild and pleasant like the scent; but, on the other hand, should she misbehave she may be sure of being well punished. I saw one of these sticks at Tatuin.
As I wished to form some idea of the manner in which a family lived and worked together in the small troglodyte communities, I took advantage of my stay with the Khalifa of Hadeij to procure information regarding his family and the life they led in common.
These inquiries I had to make with the greatest discretion, for I would not for the world have given them a chance of misjudging me, or of supposing that I had come amongst them to spy. By degrees I put together what I saw and heard till the whole picture is, I may venture to say, correct in the main, though some of the minor details may have been misunderstood by me, or have escaped my observation.
Sadi-ben Mansur-Fatush, as Khalifa of the mountains, exercises authority over the villages of the Matmata range. He is born of the tribe of Uled Sliman, of which his son is a tribal sheikh.
The Khalifa is between sixty and seventy years of age, and has three wives, Mena, Fatima, and Sasia. By the first he has two sons, Amar and Mansur. By the second, one son, Mohammed. He has probably daughters also; if so, they are married and live at a distance, and no longer interest either their family or tribe. I could not gain any information as to whether any had married within the tribe itself.
Sheikh Amar has two wives; the first is named Aisha, the second Meriam. He has two sons, Abderahman (by Aisha) and Mahmud (by Meriam).
Mansur, who bears the title of “Adel” (notary) of the Uled Sliman, has only one wife, named Uda, and no child.
Mohammed, “Kateb” (scribe) to the Uled Sliman, is his father’s secretary. His first wife is called Meriam, and by her he has a son—Hamed. His second wife, to whom he was married during my stay in Hadeij, is called Mena; she is of the Uled Sliman, and a native of the village that bears the name of that tribe.
The age of the Khalifa’s sons may be on an average about twenty-two, none of their wives being probably over twenty. Of the children of these marriages the eldest of the boys is about five years old.
The Khalifa’s family, therefore, consists of about a score of souls, who, as will be seen further on, live together; but to these must be added other members of the household, negroes and servants with their children, and a number of near relatives, and of men who attach themselves to the Khalifa’s service. Many of the latter have homes of their own, and possess palms, olive trees and cattle, which they farm on their own account, but being dependants of the Khalifa must help him to sow and reap his corn, prune his palms, gather the dates and olives, press the oil, and, in short, do any work of which they are capable.
MANSUR.
The Khalifa is very rich. He owns many underground dwellings, barns, stables and oil mills, but a large proportion of the profits of all these must be expended in providing food and shelter for the infinity of people whom he protects. His large landed property and all his possessions will be divided, when he dies, amongst his sons, who at present own only what the old patriarch chooses to give them, but after his death each will have his own palm and olive trees, his own house and cattle; unless they prefer to continue living in fellowship.
The Khalifa’s property is valued at some two hundred thousand francs—a pretty penny for a mountaineer living amongst barren hills devoid of either springs or wells, but where the cliffs and valleys are furrowed with channels to conduct the rain-water to cisterns, and where every tree must have the earth banked about it that the water may lie at its foot.
We will now examine the dwelling used by the Khalifa and his family, and endeavour to form an idea of how the various married couples are accommodated; thus ascertaining that, notwithstanding patriarchal house-government and community of life, each little group has its own portion, however small, of the dwelling set aside for its own exclusive use.
The soil in the valley of Hadeij is composed of strong clay and marl, which lend themselves admirably to the excavation of regular well-shaped chambers. These have an advantage over dwellings built above ground, in that they are cooler in summer and warmer in winter, besides being easier to defend; they are not open to discovery by strange, unaccustomed eyes, and afford good protection against thieves and robbers, for cattle can also find shelter within them.
The formation of the valley is undulating, and extends over low hills divided by smooth level ground or by narrow gorges, where streams flow in the rainy season. Seen from the mountain, the whole looks like a great sand-pit scored with faint paths, and with depressions where the olive and palm trees grow amongst the mounds.
The plan of a dwelling is as follows:—
From the side of a hill, and through the solid earth, leads an underground path—long or short, as the case may be—and quite the height of a man. This takes one to the ground-level of a large square excavation, open overhead, which is generally dug in the highest part of the hill, and forms the courtyard. The walls of this court are perpendicular and smooth. From the ground-level of this cave one enters through an opening, a somewhat long underground chamber with a vaulted roof, like that of a wine vault. These chambers are used either as stores, stables, or dwelling-places.
SECTIONS OF DWELLING IN MATMATA WHERE I LIVED.
PLAN.
The courtyards measure, as a rule, between eleven and twelve feet in depth and breadth.
The side caves are usually about twenty-seven feet long, but not even half that in breadth; though I have seen them both larger and smaller. These rooms are generally furnished with doors. The passage also is, as a rule, closed at both the outer and the inner end by means of a strong door or gate.
In the court is a fireplace intended for common use; in wet weather the cooking is done in one of the underground rooms. Further, there is often a tank into which water is conducted by pipes from the earth’s surface. At the sides of the court stand large rush baskets filled with corn, and sufficient space remains for fowls and domestic animals, when, under special circumstances, such as threatened danger, these are driven within.
Here and there in the passages are recesses for stabling horses and donkeys, which stand therefore in utter darkness.
In a cave chamber it is dark when the door is closed, otherwise there is sufficient light.
The accompanying sketch shows some of the dwellings inhabited by the Khalifa and his nearest relatives.
From the flat, smooth, open space grown with olive and palm trees, leads the passage to the courtyard.
Dwellings I. and II. are united, and have but one entrance. Through the gate (A) is the entrance to a cave passage, and thereby to the first courtyard. Here are to be found the following chambers: One for the horses, one for the sheep, one containing a tank, another is a kitchen, and, lastly, a store.
From the first courtyard one passes through another cave passage into courtyard No. II. This provides dwellings for all the Khalifa’s sons with their wives and children, and for the mothers of these sons.
The Khalifa himself resides at night in an adjacent cave in company with his third wife, but both spend the day with the rest of the family in courtyard No. II., where they cook and eat in common. As far as I could ascertain, no domestics live here.
This courtyard is furnished with rush baskets for corn, and with a fireplace.
Amar has two chambers, one for each of his wives; and his mother has another close by, so they occupy a whole side of the court.
Two chambers are used as barley stores.
Fatima, Mohammed’s mother, has a room, and beside it is another to which Mohammed’s second wife was brought. Exactly opposite lives Mohammed’s first wife, and, on the same side, Mansur and his only wife.
Last of all comes the kitchen.
I visited all these caves; each woman had her household pots and pans prettily arranged on the inner wall of the chamber, as our cooks do their brass utensils on their kitchen walls. Ranged on the sides were various articles, while in the centre of the clay floor, adorned, as a rule, with rush matting or with carpets, stood what appeared to be a low table. This is the sleeping couch, on which carpets are generally spread; on this the inmates sleep without undressing.
The whitewashed walls are bare but for the guns which are sometimes hung there, as also keys, yarn, etc.
In Mohammed’s and Mansur’s rooms I saw some frightful framed pictures, apparently supposed to represent the Prophet, and evidently cheap rubbish bought at Gabés, corresponding in all respects to the coloured prints of the Christ which we find in every cottage in our country.
The comfortable cave rooms, and even the courtyard, were clean and well kept. The fowls, indeed, had the run of yard No. II., but it was evidently forbidden to cattle, which were restricted to the first yard. By a long underground passage, provided with side recesses for horses and donkeys, one entered yard No. III.; its chambers included a large banqueting hall, the roof of which was composed of two parallel vaults, supported where they met by a central row of pillars. This hall occupied one entire side of the court, and opposite to it were two rooms, used when I was there as guest-chambers; one of these I occupied. They could also be utilised as corn stores; to this end a shaft is dug from the surface, through the solid earth to the dome, so that the corn may be poured down; and when the camels bring the grain, it is unloaded near the mouth of the shaft.
Near the entrance to the passage are two rooms, also available as stores for grain, but during my visit they were used as dwellings for several male servants.
In yard No. IV. lived a negro family, who were entrusted with the care of Mohammed’s and Amar’s two horses, and the two mules belonging to the Khalifa and Mansur which were stabled there. There was also a corn store, where the barley for the horses and mules was kept, a writing-room, and a tank.
These four yards were used indiscriminately by the Khalifa and his household.
Now we come to the two other dwellings—V. and VI. In one lived a cousin of the Khalifa; the other was occupied by an old fellow called Uncle Srair Feteish, under the same conditions as the courts already mentioned.
A little farther off was the dwelling occupied by the Khalifa and his third wife; this was also composed of subterranean rooms, two on either side. One of these chambers was occupied by the Khalifa and his third wife, one by an Arab servant, another was used to keep clothing in, a fourth as a kitchen, two others as stores for dates, and the last as a writing-room.
Owing to his official position, the Khalifa has a certain amount of correspondence, and therefore requires a proper place in which to preserve documents. These are all written in Arabic characters; the Berber alphabet being unknown in Hadeij, and but little, I believe, in the whole of Southern Tunisia. Though in many villages the Berber language is spoken, it is not in Hadeij, where it appears to be forgotten in spite of the natives being Berbers.
The above-mentioned dwellings are far from being the only ones possessed by the Khalifa, for both in Hadeij proper and in the environs he owns several houses occupied by his retainers. He also owns caves, reserved for his occasional use, in the vicinity of his distant groves of palms and olives, when, as in harvest time, the trees have to be watched.
The caves that I saw in the Matmata mountains were, with few exceptions, of the same description. Of these exceptions may be mentioned the caves I found in Sid ben Aissa. To these led uncovered ways, so that one had a direct view into the courtyards from the outside. Also at Beni Sultan I observed steps that sloped from the upper surface to the courtyard. The rooms in this instance were not so symmetrical; many of them were not excavated on the same level as the court, but were raised a few steps above it. This very irregularity rendered these caves more picturesque and interesting than those of Hadeij.
In the enclosures were several tanks, and in the rooms I saw women spinning with wheels.
The approach to these houses was by means of steps cut in the calcareous soil; where the steps terminated was a gate by which one passed into a fine vaulted underground chamber, and thence into the courtyard.
The Sheikh of Beni Sultan owned also an oil mill, erected in an underground cave, that, with its vaults and colonnades, closely resembled the crypt of a church. In one of these vaults I saw the mill, which is worked by a donkey or a camel, and is composed of a large round stone turning on a broad low stone cylinder. In a neighbouring vault close by was erected a primitive oil press.
In Duirat, the most southern village of Tunisia, I found caves of a rather different description. These were of the same dimensions as the chambers already described, and were cut in the sides of cliffs. Before the door of the caves an enclosure was frequently made, and within this stood a house, through the centre of which was a passage leading into the cave.
This style of building has the advantage that in summer the natives can seek the shelter of the cave, where it is cooler than in the house; and, again, should the house be attacked, they could retire into the cave, the entrance being easy to defend.
That the dwellings are not all caves probably arises from the fact that there is not always sufficient space in the mountains for the many large chambers required to accommodate a number of people. The cave is the original dwelling; the house followed as an appendage. The hedged-in enclosure mentioned can be utilised as a shelter for cattle.
Near Tatuin I noticed, in passing, a rock cave that was merely an irregularly dug hole. It was inhabited.
In the mountains I discovered several of the same description, but uninhabited; being occupied in harvest time, when the dates and olives need guarding.
At Tujan I saw, excavated in the cliffs, several ancient caves with small terraces in front of them; they had long been abandoned as dwellings.
MEDININ.
Lastly, I must touch briefly on a mode of building found on the plains, in the villages of Metamer and Medinin, and evidently deriving its origin from the cave.
Small, oblong, domed houses are built side by side in a square, thus forming a complete citadel of exactly the same form as a cave dwelling; the plan of cave construction having been copied aboveground.
BEDOUIN WOMEN GROUPED BEFORE THEIR HUT.
In Southern Tunisia there are numerous large villages, such as Hadeij, Lasheish, Ben Aissa, besides some smaller, as, for instance, Judlig, which are composed exclusively of cave dwellings.
Moreover, caves are found mingled with other dwellings in Beni Sultan, Smerten, and Sguimi.
Cave dwellings therefore prevail in the valleys, and real houses on the mountains.
Finally, the more primitive caves are found on mountain slopes, as, for instance, at Duirat.
The villages that consist of houses are of stone or sun-dried blocks of clay. They stand, as a rule, high on the mountains, and much resemble those of the Kabail in Algeria, or the ancient French villages on the mountains of Auvergne.
Just after I had changed my clothes, the hotel waiter announced that a sheikh wished to see me, who, when ushered in, proved to be Mansur; following him came Hamed. They both looked so very serious that I feared something had gone wrong; but Hamed, observing my puzzled expression, whispered to me that Mansur had come to invite me to the wedding feast.
After I had returned Mansur’s greeting, we both sat down, he on the bed cross-legged, I on a chair, while Hamed showed some tact by placing himself behind me to serve as interpreter, for Mansur understood little French.
After an interchange of compliments, which were indubitably sincere on either side, Mansur came to the point. His father, the Khalifa, had desired him to say, that if I would go to Hadeij and be present at the last great feast on the fifth day, he would regard it as a proof of my friendship for him and for the Matmata; that I should be treated as a brother, and if I would remain there many, many years I should be welcome.
Mansur came again the following day to see me; with him and Hamed I visited the villages of Jara and Menzel, where I intended making purchases for our National Museum, and therefore required their help.
AT GABÉS.
In the great Sok (market-place) I bought agricultural implements, hoes and spades,—which were made under my eye,—one of the primitive ploughs and its harness of plaited esparto grass; and, lastly, a collection of garments. Consequently there was much noise and lively quarrelling, though it did not reach quite the same pitch as recently in Lasheish.
In the afternoon I took a carriage with the British Vice-Consul Galleja and his brother, Cesare Galleja, two exceedingly obliging men, and drove to the village of Menzel, as I wished to obtain some reliable information from an Arab there, about the marriage customs of the country.
On our return we met the Khalifa of Gabés, who told us he was also invited to the wedding at Hadeij, but had been obliged to refuse as he could not leave Gabés, General Allegro being absent; therefore in the interim, the government of the whole district fell entirely on himself. He advised me to take with me a small bridal gift, so the same evening I bought a fine haik.
The military officers at Gabés are nearly all unmarried. Those of the same grade mess together—that is to say, they engage a cook who provides for them.
The lieutenants of the 4th African Light Battalion and some other officers invited me to dine at their mess. We were altogether a score of men, and I spent a bright and pleasant evening amongst my new African friends; and made acquaintances which were to be renewed some days later in the south, whither several of them were immediately proceeding.
This was the first, but not the last, time that I while in these regions had the pleasure of replying to the toast of “To the Danish soldier,” with “I drink long life to the French army,” with whom I served eleven years ago when they were fighting in the south.
On the 22nd October, Hamed and I again left Gabés, starting with the dawn at 5.30 a.m., and proceeding this time in a westerly direction.
The Spahis had supplied me with a small but powerfully-built brown horse, capable of pacing between five and six miles an hour when so inclined. At first it wanted to hurry on, but I restrained it, and we walked past the village of Menzel, and traversed the palm groves, where the birds twittered, and the smoke from huts and tents rose to the tree-tops. It was bitterly cold, and we wrapped our burnouses closely about us. When we rode out of the oasis the sun had risen, and cast our shadows in long lines on the undulating golden-grey plain.
Far away to our right the rays of the sun were reflected from the whitewashed walls of a Marabout’s tomb, built on a hillside. There also stood the poste optique, which is in communication with another on a mountain near Medinin, the southern military station.
We allowed our horses to break into a hand gallop that refreshed us in the beautiful morning, as, with a keen sense of enjoyment, we followed the tracks that, with countless windings, led towards the west.
There was little vegetation; the land lay before us barren and desolate.