The sensations of our guides and camel-drivers had been uneasy from the very moment of our encamping; and Mr. Richardson, at the suggestion of Ánnur, had on the preceding day sent Émeli and Mohammed in advance, in order to bring to us the chief of Fade-ang. This person was represented to us as a man of great authority in this lawless country, and able to protect us against freebooting parties, which our guests of the other day, who had gone on in advance, were sure to collect against us. But Mohammed, as I have observed above, was a great rascal himself, who would do all in his power to increase our difficulties, in order to profit by the confusion. The chief was accordingly reported as being absent, and a man who was said to be his brother was to take his place. This person made his appearance, accompanied by some people from the village; but it became immediately apparent that he had no authority whatever, and one of the Imghád of Tádomat, who had stuck to us for the last two days, in order to show us what respect he had for this man, struck him repeatedly with his spear upon the shoulder. Among the companions of our new protector was a Taleb of the name of Buhéda, distinguished by his talkativeness and a certain degree of arrogance, who made himself ridiculous by trying to convince us of his immense learning. What an enormous difference there was between these mean-looking and degraded half-castes and our martial pursuers, who stood close by! Though I knew the latter could and would do us much more harm than the former, I liked them much better.
Overweg and I had sat down in the shade of a talha-tree at a little distance from our tent, and had soon a whole circle of visitors around us, who in the beginning behaved with some modesty and discretion, but gradually became rather troublesome. I gave them some small presents, such as scissors, knives, mirrors, and needles, with which they expressed themselves well pleased. Presently came also several women, one with the characteristic features called in Temáshight “tebúllodén,” which may be translated by the words of Leo, “Le parti di dietro pienissime e grasse,” and another younger one, mounted upon a donkey. The whole character of these people appeared very degraded. They were totally devoid of the noble and manly appearance which the most careless observer cannot fail to admire even in a common Tarki freebooter, and the relations between the sexes appeared in a worse light than one would expect in such a situation as this. However, we have ample testimony in ancient Arabian writers that licentious manners have always prevailed among the Berber tribes on the frontier of the desert; and we found the same habits existing among the tribe of the Tagáma, while not only Ágades, but even the little village of Tintéllust was not without its courtesans. This is a very disheartening phenomenon to observe in so small a community, and in a locality where nature would seem peculiarly favourable to purity and simplicity of manners. The names of some of these Tághajít beauties—Telíttifók, Tatináta, and Temétilé—are interesting for the character of the language.
We were anxious to buy some of the famous Aïr cheese, for which we had been longing the whole way over the dreary desert, and had kept up our spirits with the prospect of soon indulging in this luxury; but we were not able to procure a single one, and our endeavours to buy a sheep or a goat were equally fruitless. Instead of the plenty which we had been led to expect in this country, we found nothing but misery. But I was rather surprised to find here a very fine and strong race of asses. We were tolerably composed, and reclining at our ease (though our weapons were always at hand), when we were a little alarmed by a demand of six riyals for the use of the pond in Jínninau. Our amiable but unenergetic friend Ánnur seconded the demand, by way of satisfying in some way the intruders upon our caravan. These claims were scarcely settled when a dreadful alarm was raised, by the report that a body of from fifty to sixty Mehára were about to attack us. Though no good authority could be named for this intelligence, the whole caravan was carried away by excitement, and all called out for powder and shot. Bóro Serki-n-turáwa once more delivered eloquent speeches, and exhorted the people to be courageous; but many of the Tinylkum, very naturally, had a great objection to come to open hostilities with the Tuarek, which might end in their being unable to travel any longer along this route.
In this moment of extreme excitement Khweldi arrived, the chief merchant of Múrzuk, whom we had not expected to see, though we knew that he was on his way from Sudán to the north. We were in a situation wherein he was able to render us the most material service, both by his influence upon the individuals of whom our caravan was composed, and by his knowledge of the country whose frontier territories we had just entered. But unfortunately, though a very experienced merchant, he was not a practical, sharp-sighted man; and instead of giving us clear information as to the probable amount of truth in the reports, and what sort of difficulties we might really have to encounter, and how by paying a sort of passage-money to the chiefs we might get over them, he denied in private the existence of any danger at all, while openly he went round the whole caravan extolling our importance as a mission sent by a powerful government, and encouraging the people to defend us if we should be in danger. In consequence of his exhortations, the Tinýlkum took courage, but had the imprudence and absurdity to supply also the three intruders with powder and shot, who, though protesting to be now our most sincere friends, of course made no other use of the present than to supply their band with this material, which alone gave us a degree of superiority and constituted our security.
Any one accustomed to look closely at things could not be at all satisfied with the spirit of our caravan, notwithstanding its noise and waste of powder, and with its entire want of union; but the scene which followed in the bright moonlight evening, and lasted throughout the night, was animating and interesting in the extreme. The whole caravan was drawn up in line of battle, the left wing being formed by ourselves and the detachment of the Kél-owí who had left their own camping-ground and posted themselves in front of our tent, while the Tinýlkum and the Sfaksi formed the centre, and the rest of the Kél-owí with Bóro, the right wing, leaning upon the cliffs, our exposed left being defended by the four pieces of the boat. About ten o’clock a small troop of Mehára appeared, when a heavy fusillade was kept up over their heads, and firing and shouting were continued the whole night.
Our situation remained the same the whole of the following day; and it became very tedious, as it prevented us from making excursions, and becoming acquainted with the features of the new country which we had entered. Another alarm having been raised in vain, the leaders of the expedition which was collecting against us came out, with the promise that they would not further molest the caravan if the Christians were given up to them. This demand having been at once rejected, we were left in tolerable tranquillity for a while, as the freebooters now saw that in order to obtain their object, which was plunder, they should be obliged to bring really into the field the whole force they had so long boasted of. Khweldi paid us another visit in the afternoon; and as he wanted to make us believe that there was really no danger in this country, so he did not fail to represent the state of things in Sudán as the most favourable we could have wished for. He also sought to sweeten over any remnant of anxiety which we might have, by a dish of very delicious dates which he had received from his friend Háj Beshír, in Iferwán, and which gave us a favourable idea of what the country before us was able to produce. Altogether Khweldi endeavoured to be agreeable to everybody; and on a later occasion, in 1854, when I was for some time without means, he behaved towards me in a very gentlemanlike manner. In his company was a brother of our quiet and faithful servant Mohammed, from Gatrón, who was now returning home with his earnings.
Not being able to refrain wholly from excursions, I undertook in the afternoon to visit the watering-place situated up a little lateral nook of the valley, adorned with very luxuriant talha-trees, and winding in a half-circle by south-east to north-east. First, at the distance of about a mile, I came to a hole where some of the Tinýlkum were scooping water; and ascending the rocky bed of the occasional torrent, I found a small pond where the camels were drinking; but our faithful friend Músa, who was not at all pleased with my having ventured so far, told me that the water obtained here did not keep long, but that higher up good water was to be found in the principal valley. I had from the beginning attentively observed the character and proceedings of Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, and feared nothing so much as his intrigues; and at my urgent request, Mr. Richardson to-night made him a satisfactory present as an acknowledgment of the courage which he had lately shown in defending our cause. Of course the present came rather late; but it was better to give it now, in order to avert the consequences of his intrigues as much as possible, than not at all. Had it been given two months ago, it might have saved us an immense deal of difficulty, danger, and heavy loss.
Saturday, August 24.—We left at length our camping-ground in Tághajít, and soon passed Khweldi’s encampment, which was just about to break up.
Rocky ground, overtopped by higher mountain-masses or by detached peaks, and hollows overgrown with rich vegetation, and preserving for a longer or shorter time the regular form of valleys, succeed by turns, and constitute the predominant feature of the country of Asben. But instead of the fresh green pasture which had delighted and cheered us in some of the northern valleys, the herbage in some of those which we passed to-day was quite dry.
Early in the afternoon we encamped in the valley Imenán, a little outside the line of herbage and trees, on an open spot at the southern foot of a low rocky eminence. The valley, overgrown as it was with large talha-trees and the oat-grass called bú rékkebah, of tall, luxuriant growth, was pleasant, and invited us to repose. But before sunset our tranquillity was greatly disturbed by the appearance of five of our well-known marauding companions, mounted on camels, and leading six others. They dismounted within less than a pistol-shot from our tents, and with wild ferocious laughter were discussing their projects with the Azkár in our caravan.
I could scarcely suppress a laugh when several of the Tinýlkum came and brought us the ironical assurance that there was now perfect security, and that we might indulge in sound sleep. Others came with the less agreeable but truer warning that we ought not to sleep that night. The greatest alarm and excitement soon spread through the caravan. Later in the evening, while our benevolent guests were devouring their supper, Mohammed el Túnsi called me and Overweg aside, and informed us that we were threatened with great danger indeed, these Hogár, as he called them, having brought a letter from Nakhnúkhen, authorizing them to collect people in the territory of the Kél-owí, and there to despatch us in such a way that not even a trace of us should be found, but not to touch us so long as we were within the confines of the Azkár.
I was convinced that this account, so far as it regarded Nakhnúkhen, was an absurd fiction of our persecutors; and I tried to persuade our servant to this effect. When he returned from us to the caravan, a council of war was held, and a resolution passed, that if a number of from twenty to thirty people came to attack us they would undertake to defend us, but if we should be threatened by a more numerous host they would try to make a compromise by yielding up a part of our goods. In consequence of this resolution, all possible warlike preparations were made once more, and Bóro delivered another speech; but it seemed rather irreconcilable with such a state of things that while we, as well as the Tinýlkum, brought all our camels close to our tents at an early hour, the Kél-owí left theirs out the whole night. Perhaps, being natives of the country, they did not expect that the freebooters would seize their animals.
Be this as it may, great anxiety arose when early in the morning it was found that the camels were gone; and when day broke our guests of last night, who had stolen away before midnight, were seen riding down from the rocky ridge on the south, and with a commanding air calling the principal men of the caravan to a council. Then followed the scenes which Mr. Richardson has so graphically described.
I will only mention that Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, sword in hand, led us on with great energy. He called me to keep close to him; and I think that now (when we had atoned for the neglect with which he had been treated by us, by assuring him that we were convinced of his high position and influence in the country) he had the honest intention to protect us. Of the Tinýlkum only our faithful Músa and the amiable young Slimán adhered to us and of the other people, the Tawáti and Mohammed eʾ Sfaksi, although the latter trembled with fear and was as pale as death, Yusuf Mukni remained behind. Fárreji on this occasion behaved with great courage, and bravely challenged the enemy. What frightened the latter most were the bayonets on our guns, as they saw that, after having received our fire, they would not yet have done with us, but would still have a weapon to encounter at least as formidable as their own spears. As soon as the enemy had protested that he was only come against us as Christians, all sympathy for us ceased in the caravan. All expected that we would become Moslemín without great difficulty; and our servant Mohammed, when we rejected this condition as an impossibility, immediately relapsed into his ordinary impudence, laughing in our faces because, forsooth, we were so absurd as still to think of some other expedient. This clever but spoiled youngster was a protégé of the British consulate in Tunis.
At length all seemed to be settled. The whole host of the enemy, besides its rich booty, had been treated with an enormous quantity of mohamsa, and we had repeatedly been assured that now we might be certain of reaching the chief Ánnur’s residence without any further disturbance, when the little Ánnur, a man of honest but mild character, came to beg us most earnestly to be on our guard, lest behind the rocks and ridges there might still be some persons in ambush. At length we left this inhospitable place; but we were far from being at ease, for it was clear that there was still a cloud on the horizon, which might easily gather to another storm. After a short march, we encamped in a small valley without pitching our tents. The Merábet who had accompanied and sanctioned the expedition against us was now in our company, and that was thought to be the best means of preventing any further molestation. This man, as I made out afterwards, was no other than Ibrahím Aghá-batúre (the son of Háj Beshír, a well-known and influential person settled in Ferwán, or Iferwán), who, in consequence of these proceedings, was afterwards punished severely by the Sultan of Ágades. With Aghá-batúre himself I met accidentally at a later period, in 1853, near Zinder, when he was greatly astonished to see me still alive, notwithstanding all the hardships I had gone through. Bóro, who passed the evening with him in reading the Kurán, treated him hospitably—with Mr. Richardson’s mohamsa.
Monday, August 26.—After a march of three miles and a half, having ascended a little, we obtained a clear view of the great mountain mass which, lying between Tídik, on the north and Tintagh-odé on the west, seems not to be marked with a collective proper name, although it is very often called by the people Mount Absen. But I cannot say whether this name, which is the old Góber name for the whole country called the Berbers Aïr, belonged originally only to these mountains, or whether it is now given to them merely on account of their being the conspicuous elevation of the country so named, to people coming from the north; for this, according to the unanimous statement of the Kél-owí, is the frontier of Sudán, to which neither Tághajít nor even Tídik belongs. The Tuarek, it would seem, have no indigenous proper name for Sudán (properly Beled eʾ sudán) or Negroland; most of them call it Agús (the south). Nevertheless Tekrúr seems to be an ancient Libyan name for Negroland.
A remarkable peak called Téngik or Tímge towers over this mountain mass, being, according to the intelligent old chief Ánnur (who ought to be well acquainted with his own country), the most elevated point in the whole country of Aïr. Unfortunately our situation in the country was such that we could not think of exploring this very interesting northern barrier, which must be supposed to possess many beautiful glens and valleys. But we were still at some distance from these picturesque mountains, and had to cross a very rugged and dreary waste, where, however, we caught sight of the first ostrich as yet seen on our journey. We encamped at length in a shallow valley devoid of any interesting features.
During the night, while I was on the first watch, walking round the encampment of the caravan, it struck me that at one end of it, beyond the Kél-owí, a small party was separately encamped. When I went there the first time all was quiet; but a little after eleven o’clock (for in general, on such a journey, every one lies down at an early hour), hearing a noise on that side, and turning thither, I saw two armed Tuarek saddle their mehára, and make off in the gloom of night. From this circumstance I concluded that something was still going on against us; but as it appeared useless to make an alarm, I only took the precaution to put Overweg, who succeeded me on the watch, upon his guard.
Tuesday, August 27.—We started at a very early hour; but fortunately the moonlight was so clear and beautiful that I was not interrupted for a moment in marking down all the features of the country—at least along our route, for our situation was now too precarious to allow of our observing angles to fix the exact position of mountains lying at some distance from us. The road in general continued rugged for the first six miles, and formed at times very difficult passes; but, notwithstanding these obstacles, the whole caravan kept as close together as possible, and so frustrated the plans of our persecutors, who, as we concluded from the appearance of several Mehára in the distance, intended to attack us on the road, if occasion offered. There are two roads, the easternmost of which passes further on through a remarkable gorge in the mountains, which we had for a long time ahead of us. Here, where we turned off with a westerly deviation, beautiful white marble, but slightly weatherworn on the surface, appeared between the nodules of granite and gneiss, while on our right we had a rocky ridge called Itsa, the crest of which was indented in a most remarkable way. Further on, where for a while we entered on a gravelly soil, the whole ground was covered with fresh footsteps of camels and men, and there was not the least doubt that another host was gathering against us.
Mount Kadamméllet, with its tapering double peak, at a greater distance in the west, formed an interesting object, while the country was gradually improving. While turning round the lower offshoots of the large mountain mass which we had now approached, we entered a rather narrow but very rich valley, adorned with most luxuriant talha-trees completely enwrapped and bound together by creepers, while the ground was richly clothed with herbage. This is the valley of Tídik; the village of that name, which is situated in a recess of the mountains on our left, remained invisible. It is said to consist of huts formed of a kind of long dry grass, and therefore makes some approach to the fashion of Sudán; these huts are called tághamt, or táramt, by the Southern Imóshagh. But at present the village was desolate, all the inhabitants, the Kél-tídik (people of Tídik), having gone for a while to the fine valleys in the west, which appear to be richer than those to the east. Further on we crossed the bed of a considerable torrent, the valley terminating in a narrow passage, which, though generally considered as the very entrance into the region of Sudán, led us once more into a desolate rocky district, at times widening to dry hollows. Here Mount Kadamméllet, of which only the double peak had been previously visible, exhibited to us its ample flanks. The country became so extremely rugged that we advanced but slowly; and having here received distinct information which fully confirmed our apprehension of another predatory expedition against us, we marched in order of battle. Thus we reached a pond of rain-water in the narrow rugged hollow Tároï, where we filled our water-bags. We found here several donkeys of a remarkably fine breed, belonging to the men who had brought us the news. The country beyond this place became more interesting and even picturesque at times, several fine glens descending one after the other from the beautifully indented mountains on our left, which now rose into full view, as the offshoots had gradually receded.
We were only about eight miles from Selúfiet, where we might expect to be tolerably safe; and we had not the least doubt that we were to sleep there, when suddenly, before noon, our old Azkár mádogu Awed el Khér turned off the road to the right, and chose the camping-ground at the border of a broad valley richly overgrown with herbage. As if moved by supernatural agency, and in ominous silence, the whole caravan followed; not a word was spoken. It was then evident that we were to pass through another ordeal, which, according to all appearance, would be of a more serious kind than that we had already undergone. How this plot was laid is rather mysterious; and it can be explained only by supposing that a diabolical conspiracy was entered into by the various individuals of our caravan. Some certainly were in the secret; but Ánnur, not less certainly, was sincere in our interest, and wished us to get through, safely. But the turbulent state of the country did not allow this weak, unenergetic man to attain his object. Blackmail had been levied upon us by the frontier tribes; here was another strong party to be satisfied, that of the Merábetín or Aníslimen, who, enjoying great influence in the country, were in a certain degree opposed to the paramount authority of the old chief Ánnur in Tintéllust; and this man, who alone had power to check the turbulent spirit of these wild and lawless tribes, was laid up with sickness. In Agades there was no Sultan, and several parties still stood in opposition to each other, while by the great expedition against the Welád Slimán all the warlike passions of the people had been awakened, and their cupidity and greediness for booty and rapine excited to the utmost pitch. All these circumstances must be borne in mind in order to form a right view of the manner in which we were sacrificed.
The whole affair had a very solemn appearance from the beginning, and it was apparent that this time there were really other motives in view besides that of robbing us. Some of our companions evidently thought that here, at such a distance from our homes and our brethren in faith, we might yield to a more serious attack upon our religion, and so far were sincerely interested in the success of the proceeding; but whether they had any accurate idea of the fate that awaited us, whether we should retain our property and be allowed to proceed, I cannot say. But it is probable that the fanatics thought little of our future destiny; and it is absurd to imagine that, if we had changed our religion as we would a suit of clothes, we should have thereby escaped absolute ruin. Our people, who well knew what was going on, desired us to pitch only a single tent for all three of us, and not to leave it, even though a great many people should collect about us. The excitement and anxiety of our friend Ánnur had reached the highest pitch, and Bóro was writing letter after letter. Though a great number of Merábetín had collected at an early hour, and a host of other people arrived before sunset, the storm did not break out; but as soon as all the people of our caravan, arranged in a long line close to our tent, under the guidance of the most respected of the Merábetín as Imám, had finished their Mughreb prayers, the calm was at an end, and the scene which followed was awful.
Our own people were so firmly convinced that, as we stoutly refused to change our religion, though only for a day or two, we should immediately suffer death, that our servant Mohammed, as well as Mukni, requested us most urgently to testify, in writing, that they were innocent of our blood. Mr. Richardson himself was far from being sure that the sheikhs did not mean exactly what they said. Our servants, and the chiefs of the caravan, had left us with the plain declaration that nothing less than certain death awaited us; and we were sitting silently in the tent, with the inspiring consciousness of going to our fate in a manner worthy alike of our religion and of the nation in whose name we were travelling among these barbarous tribes, when Mr. Richardson interrupted the silence which prevailed, with these words: “Let us talk a little. We must die; what is the use of sitting so mute?” For some minutes death seemed really to hover over our heads, but the awful moment passed by. We had been discussing Mr. Richardson’s last propositions for an attempt to escape with our lives, when, as a forerunner of the official messenger, the benevolent and kind-hearted Slimán rushed into our tent, and with the most sincere sympathy stammered out the few words, “You are not to die.”
The amount of the spoil taken from us was regulated by the sum which we had paid to our Kél-owí escort, the party concerned presuming that they had just the same demands upon us as our companions. The principal, if not the only, actors in this affair were the Merábetín; and Ánnur, the chief of Tin-téllust, afterwards stated to us that it was to them we had to attribute all our losses and mishaps. There was also just at this period a young sheríf from Medína at Tintagh-odé, with whom we afterwards came into intimate relations, and who confessed to us that he had contributed his part to excite the hatred of the people against the Christian intruders. Experienced travellers have very truly remarked that this sort of sherífs are at the bottom of every intrigue. To the honour of Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, I have to state that he was ashamed of the whole affair, and tried to protect us to the best of his power, although in the beginning he had certainly done all that he could to bring us into difficulties.
It was one of the defects of the expedition that our merchandise, instead of comprising a few valuable things, was for the most part composed of worthless bulky objects, and that it made the people believe that we were carrying with us enormous wealth, while the whole value of our things scarcely amounted to two hundred pounds. We had besides about ten large iron cases filled with dry biscuit, but which all the ignorant people believed to be crammed with money. The consequence was that the next morning, when all the claims had at length been settled, and we wanted to move on, there was still great danger that the rabble, which had not yet dispersed, would fall upon the rest of our luggage; and we were greatly obliged to the Sfaksi, who not only passed some of our luggage as his own, but also dashed to pieces one of the iron cases, when, to the astonishment of the simple people, instead of heaps of dollars, a dry and tasteless sort of bread came forth from the strong enclosure.
Meanwhile the persecuted Christians had made off, accompanied by some of the Kél-owí; and at length the whole caravan collected together. The valley was here very beautiful, and having crossed some smaller hollows, we reached the fine valley of Selúfiet, rich in trees and bushes, but without herbage; while at the distance of less than a mile on our left the high peak of the Tímge stood erect. Towards the west the valley forms a deep gap behind a projecting mass of granite blocks, and it was here that I met again my old acquaintance from the Sʿaid and Nubia, the dúm-tree or Cucifera Thebaïca, here called gáriba, after the Háusa name góreba. From the Kél-owí I could not learn the proper Berber name of this tree, but the Western Imóshagh call it akóf. Even the Capparis sodata seems to be called, by the Berber conquerors of this country, only by the Háusa name abísga, while their western brethren call it téshak. Besides the Cucifera, or fan-palm, there were here also a few isolated specimens of the date-palm.
The village of Selúfiet itself, consisting of sixty or seventy grass huts of peculiar shape, lies on the southern side of a broad valley running here from east to west, and richly overgrown with górebas, abísgas, and talha-trees, but without any grass, for which the ground seems too elevated and stony. Our camping-ground also was of this bare character, and not at all pleasing; it was protected in the rear by large buttresses of rock. We had not yet enjoyed much tranquillity and security, and we here felt its want the more keenly as, our camel-drivers having been hired only as far as this place, we had henceforth to take charge of all our things ourselves. A large mob of lawless people came about us in the course of the night, howling like hungry jackals, and we were obliged to assure them, by frequent firing, that we were on the watch. We had been obliged to leave our camels to the care of the Kél-owí; but the freebooters having succeeded in dispersing the camels in every direction, our friends were unable in the evening to collect either their own animals or ours, and in the night they were all driven away, as we were told, by the Merábetín themselves, who so repeatedly assured us of their protection.
In the letters which we sent to Europe during our next day’s halt in this place, by a caravan of Arabs and Kél-owí, the largest part of which was already in advance, we were unable to give a perfectly satisfactory account of our progress; nevertheless we had made a great step in advance, and were justified in hoping that we should be able to overcome whatever difficulties might still await us, and the more so as we were now able to place ourselves in direct communication with the chief of Tin-téllust, from whom we might soon expect to receive an escort.
Thursday, August 29.—Some of the stolen camels having been recovered, though fifteen were still wanting, we were enabled to move from this uncomfortable place the next day, leaving behind us, however, the boat and some other things, which were valueless to any but ourselves.
Pleased as we were with our onward movement, we were still more cheered when we observed in the fine valley, which here seems to bear the name Érasa, or rather Érazar, some small fields with a fresh green crop of negro millet—a delicious sight to travellers from the desert, and the best assurance that we had entered cultivable regions. The fields or gardens were watered by means of a kind of khattára of very simple construction, a simple pole, with a longer cross pole, to which the bucket is fastened. A little further on the whole valley was clothed with fine widespreading bushes of the abísga or Capparis; but it soon narrowed, while we marched straight upon the high pointed peak overtowering Tintagh-odé, which forms an interesting object. The valley of Selúfiet seems to have no connection with that of the latter place; at least, the principal branch, along which our route lay, was entirely separated from it by rocky ground. Here a broad gap dividing the mountain mass allows a peep into the glens formed by the several ridges of which it consists, and which seem to rise to greater elevation as they recede. The slope is rather precipitous, and the general elevation of this mountain mass seems scarcely less than 3,300 feet above the bottom of the valley, or about 5,000 feet above the level of the sea.
We soon descended again from the rocky ground into a hollow plain richly clothed with vegetation, where, besides the abísga, the tunfáfia or Asclepias gigantea, which we had entirely lost sight of since leaving Égeri, appeared in great abundance. Here also was a new plant which we had not seen before—the “állwot,” with large succulent leaves and a pretty violet flower. The camels devoured it most eagerly, and, in the whole district of Aïr, preferred it to any other kind of food. It has a great resemblance to the poisonous damankádda, which in Sudán is often the cause of dangerous disease, and even of death, to the camel. After marching along this valley for two miles, we encamped on an open space encircled with the green spreading bushes of the abísga, a little beyond Tintagh-odé, the village of the Merábetín or Aníslimen, which is spread in a long line over the low offshoots of the mountain range, and contains about a hundred light huts, almost all of them being made of grass and the leaves of the dúm-palm, a few only being built of stones. Small as this village is, it is of very great importance for the intercourse between Central Africa and the northern region beyond the desert; for under the authority of these learned and devout men, commerce is carried on with a security which is really surprising, if regard be had to the wild and predatory habits of the people around. As these Aníslimen belong to a tribe of the Kél-owí, we may infer that their settlement here was contemporaneous with the conquest of the country by the latter tribe, a conclusion favoured by the narrative of Ebn Batúta, who does not appear to have found any settlements in this quarter.
The Aníslimen, however, though they style themselves “devout men,” have not therefore relinquished all concern about the things of this world, but, on the contrary, by their ambition, intrigues, and warlike proceedings, exercise a great influence upon the whole affairs of the country, and have placed themselves, as I have already mentioned, in a sort of opposition to the powerful chief of Tin-téllust. Recently, however, a great calamity had befallen them, the Awelímmiden (the “Surka” of Mungo Park, the dreaded enemies of the Kél-owí) having by a sudden inroad carried away all their camels; and it may have been partly the desire to make use of the opportunity afforded them by the arrival of some unprotected infidels, to repair their losses in some measure, which made them deal so hostilely with us.
As we encamped, the boys of the village hovered around us in great numbers; and while we kept a good look out to prevent their pilfering, we could not but admire their tall, well-formed figures and their light colour, the best proof that this little clan does not intermarry with the black race. They wore nothing but a leather apron; and their hair was shorn on the sides, leaving a crest in the middle. When we had made ourselves somewhat comfortable we were desirous of entering into some traffic with the people, in order to replace our provisions, which were almost wholly exhausted; but we soon had reason to be convinced how erroneous were the ideas which we had formed from reports as to the cheapness of provisions in this country, and that we should have very great difficulty in procuring even the little that was absolutely necessary. Of butter and cheese we were unable to obtain the smallest quantity, while only very small parcels of dukhn, or gero (millet or Pennisetum typhoïdeum), were offered to us, and greatly to our disadvantage, as the articles we had to barter with, such as bleached and unbleached calico, razors, and other things, were estimated at a very low rate. A common razor brought us here ten zekka of millet, worth, according to the estimate of the country, one-third of a mithkál, equal to 333 kurdi, or about sixpence-halfpenny. I learnt from Émeli that the Sakomáren, a tribe of Imóshagh possessing large flocks of sheep and even much cattle, bring almost every year a considerable supply of butter to this country, a statement which was soon confirmed by my own experience.
The man just mentioned, who had something extremely noble and prepossessing about him, was about to return to Ghát, and I confided to him a letter for Europe. In all probability this is the letter which was afterwards found in the desert, and was brought by Nakhnúkhen (the chief of the Azkár) himself to Mr. Dickson, Her Majesty’s agent in Ghadámes, who from its fate drew some sinister conclusions as to my own.
Sunday, September 1.—Several other people having left us, we remained in tolerable quiet and repose the whole day; but it was reported that the next day, during which we should be obliged to stay here in order to wait for the restitution of our camels, there would be a great concourse of Mehára to celebrate a marriage in the village; but fortunately the immense quantity of rain which fell in the whole of the neighbourhood, and which on the 1st of September changed our valley into the broad bed of a rapid river, placing all our property in the utmost danger, prevented this design from being executed, and, while it seemed to portend to us a new misfortune, most probably saved us from a much greater mischief.
Having just escaped from the dangers arising from the fanaticism and the rapacity of the people, it was a hard trial to have to contend again against an element the power of which, in these border regions of the desert, we had been far from appreciating and acknowledging. We had no antecedents from which to conclude the possibility that in this region a valley, more than half a mile wide, might be turned, in twenty-four hours, into a stream violent enough to carry away the heaviest things, not excepting even a strong, tall animal like the camel; and it was with almost childish satisfaction that, in the afternoon of Saturday, we went to look at the stream, which was just beginning to roll its floods along. It was then a most pleasant and refreshing sight; the next day it became a grand and awful picture of destruction, which gave us no faint idea of a deluge. To the description of the flood itself, as it is given by Mr. Richardson, I shall not add anything; but I have to mention the following circumstances, which seem not to have been placed in their true light.
Half an hour after midday, the waters began to subside, and ceased to endanger our little island, which, attacked on all sides by the destructive fury of an impetuous mountain torrent swollen to the dimensions of a considerable river, was fast crumbling to pieces, and scarcely afforded any longer space enough to hold our party and our things. Suddenly, on the western shore, a number of Mehára were seen; at the same time the whole population of Tintagh-odé, in full battle-array, came from the other side, and formed themselves in regular groups, partly round our hill, and partly opposite to the Tinýlkum. While we looked with distrust upon these preparations, most of our muskets having been wetted, the mischievous Mohammed approached our hill and, addressing me with a very significant and malevolent look, cried out, “Lots of people!” The previous afternoon, when I had requested him, while squatting himself insolently upon my carpet, to leave this only piece of comfort for my own use, he threatened me in plain terms, and in the coolest manner, that the following night I should lie on the bottom of the wady, and he upon my carpet. Not put out by his malice, though I was myself rather doubtful as to the friendly intentions of all these people, I told him that the Mehára were our friends, sent by the chief Ánnur as an escort to conduct us safely to Tin-téllust. With a threatening gesture he told me I should be sadly disappointed, and went away. Fortunately, it turned out that the people mounted on camels were really Annur’s escort; but at the same time a large band of robbers had collected, in order to make a last effort to take possession of our property before we should obtain the protection of Ánnur, and only withdrew reluctantly when they saw that they should meet with a strong opposition.
We were then justified in hoping that we had at length entered a harbour affording us a certain degree of security, and with thankful and gladdened hearts we looked forward to our further proceedings. Our present situation, however, was far from being comfortable: almost all our things were wet; our tents were lying in the mud at the bottom of the stream; and our comfortable and strong, but heavy, Tripolitan tent was so soaked with water and earth that a camel could scarcely carry it. Leaving at length our ill-chosen camping-ground, Overweg and I were passing the principal torrent (which was still very rapid), when the camels we rode, weakened by the dreadful situation they had been in the whole day, were unable to keep their feet, and, slipping on the muddy bottom, set us down in the midst of the stream. Soaked and barefoot, having lost my shoes, I was glad to reach in the dark the new encampment which had been chosen on the elevated rocky ground a little beyond the border of the valley. Our beds were in the most cheerless condition, and in an unhealthy climate would certainly have been productive of bad consequences. Aír, however, in every respect may be called the Switzerland of the desert.
Monday, September 2.—Fortunately the weather on the following morning cleared up, and, although the sun came forth only now and then, a fresh wind was very favourable for drying; and it was pleasant to see one thing after another resume a comfortable appearance. The whole encampment seemed to be one large drying-ground.
Having recovered a little from the uncomfortable state in which we had passed the night, we went to pay a visit to the principal men of our new escort, who had seated themselves in a circle, spear in hand, with their leader, Hámma (a son-in-law of the chief Ánnur) in the midst of them. Entire strangers as both parties were to each other, and after the many mishaps we had gone through, and the many false reports which must have reached these men about our character, the meeting could not fail to be somewhat cool. We expressed to the leader our sincere acknowledgment of the service which the chief Ánnur had rendered us, and begged him to name us to such of his companions as were related to the chief. On this occasion Mohammed, the chief’s cousin, who afterwards became a great friend of mine, made himself remarkable by his pretensions and arrogance. They were all of them tolerably good-looking, but they were not at all of the same make as the Azkár and the people living near the border of Aïr. They were blacker, and not so tall, and, instead of the austere and regular northern features, had a rounder and more cheerful, though less handsome expression of countenance. Their dress also was more gay, several of them wearing light blue, instead of the melancholy-looking dark blue tobes.
At about ten o’clock we at length moved on, and chose the western of the two roads, leading hence to Tin-téllust, by way of Fódet; the eastern one passes through Tágo and Táni. Leaving the large green valley of Tintagh-odé on our left, we kept on more uneven ground, passing some smaller glens, till we reached the commencement of the fine broad valley Fódet, and encamped near the cliffs bordering its eastern side. Here the water, rushing down from the rocks in a sort of cascade, had formed a pond, which, however, was not destined to remain long.
Tuesday, September 3.—We made a very interesting march through a country marked with bold features, and showing itself in more than one respect capable of being the abode of man. Turning away from the eastern border, we kept more along the middle of the valley, till we reached the most picturesque spot, where it divided into two branches, the eastern of which, bordered by several imposing mountain spurs, presented a very interesting perspective, of which the accompanying sketch, drawn as it was on the back of my camel, will give only a faint idea.
The whole bottom of the valley, where, the day before yesterday, a mighty torrent had been foaming along, was now glittering with fragments of minerals. We then passed the ruins of some houses carried away by the floods, and met further on a little troop of asses laden with éneli. Our whole caravan was in good spirits; and our escort, in order to give us a specimen of their horsemanship, if I may so call it, got up a race, which, as may be readily imagined, proved a very awkward affair. Two or three of the riders were thrown off, and the sport soon came to an end. The swift camel is excellent for trotting, but it can never excel in a gallop. In our ascent we had reached very considerable mountain masses on our right, when some of our old companions, who had come with us from Ghát, separated from us, in order to go to their village, Túngadu. Among these was Ákshi, a very modest and quiet man, who alone of all these people had never begged from me even the merest trifle, though he gave me some information, and I might have learnt much more from him if I had seen him more frequently. But I had the good fortune to meet with him again at a later period.
The country here became very mountainous, and the ascent steep, till we reached a valley called by some of the Kél-owí the upper course of the valley of Tin-téllust. Having reached the crest of the elevation, we began to descend, first gradually along smaller valleys, afterwards more steeply into a deep ravine, while in the distance towards the south-west, above the lower hills, a ridge of considerable elevation became visible. Gradually the ravine widened, and became clothed with fine herbage. Here, to our great disappointment, the little Ánnur, Dídi, Fárreji, and several of the Tinýlkum (among them the intelligent and active Ibrahím) left us in order to reach their respective residences. Of course Ánnur ought to have seen us safe to the chief’s residence; but being without energy, he allowed our new companions, with whom we had not yet been able to become acquainted, to extort from us what they could, as the Fade-ang and the Aníslimen had done before. Keeping along some smaller valleys, we reached, about noon, a considerable pond of rain-water, where I watered my thirsty camel. Almost all the smaller valleys through which we passed incline towards the west.