they would not be tempted. First the salt was exposed to view, and
they were told they could have a large lump, which was really worth
three times the sheep, but they refused to look at it, with a fine
display of scorn. I next produced a tempting bait of “guinée,”
but this likewise was ineffective, although they did show a mild
interest in the stuff. When, however, my last remaining head of
tobacco was laid out to view, I thought that at last I had caught
my fish, and it only required a little careful playing before it
could be landed. Their eyes glistened at the sight of the tobacco,
and I heard many whispered exclamations of excitement. In the end
I am sorry to say it resulted in disappointment. They went away
muttering something to the effect that they would rather keep the
sheep than take what was offered in exchange.

Money has no value with the Tuaregs. Any trade is always done by
barter, and the chief articles of barter are salt and “guinée,”
but, in any case, they are difficult people with whom to drive a
bargain, and it is rarely that a European can induce them to part
with anything.

In this part of Adrar, where wells are not more than two days’
march apart, the Iforas possess donkeys. These donkeys are most
wonderfully enduring little beasts. They are trained to go two or
even three days without drinking, and exist on what herbs or grass
they find by the way as they march.

My caravan from Gao had a donkey attached to it, which never ceased
to fill me with admiration. Its Tuareg master had laden it with a
water-skin, which must have weighed about 60 lbs., and in addition
to this it used to carry him for the greater part of the march. It
only got a drink when we arrived at a well, while it used to snatch
at mouthfuls of food if anything came in its way on the march. This
little creature was not more than three feet high, so it was an
amusing sight to watch the long-legged Tuareg seated on its back,
with his legs nearly touching the ground as it walked. It used
to take tiny, quick steps, always keeping pace with the big, slow
strides of the camels.

Having found a fellow-countryman, Mahomed was most anxious to stop
the night at Abeibera, but I was firm, and insisted on continuing our
journey at the usual hour that afternoon. It was the following day
that I saw the last herd of oryx. Between the wells of Abeibera and
Bourassa there was a fair amount of Saharan game. Loder’s gazelle
was the most plentiful, but here, also, I got two addax besides an
oryx. The country was now getting much wilder in aspect. The rocky
ridges on our flanks were higher, “oueds” were less sandy and
more strewn with boulders, while, at Bourassa itself, the hills
on the east must have been at least 500 feet above the plain. My
calculations made the height of Bourassa 2330 feet, so that the
hills here were about 2800 feet high.

At Bourassa we took two days’ water in the water-skins, as the next
well, called Taoundert, was only some forty miles away. The country
was growing wilder every day, and pasturage for the camels was
less and less plentiful. On the 16th, having arrived at Taoundert,
we found the well quite dry. There was not even a cupful of water
to be got out of it, and we had another two days’ march to the
succeeding well, In Ouzel. There was very little water now left in
the water-skins, so I determined to push on as rapidly as possible
and reach In Ouzel with the greatest despatch the camels were capable
of. But disasters seldom come singly, and the lack of water was not
going to be the only trial the next two days. Halting only an hour
for rest at Taoundert, I pushed on that night. It was imperative
to reach In Ouzel as soon as possible, there was very little water
left in one of the water-skins and nothing at all in the others;
besides, this water-skin was losing the precious liquid drop by
drop as we marched, owing to the usual leakage from these articles.

The camels, on the march, were always tied in single file, one
animal’s tail being attached by a string to the next one’s
lower jaw. The order of route was, in front the guide and myself,
in the centre my servant Musa, and in rear the camel-driver. It
was necessary to have someone in rear, for sometimes a camel would
break his string and wander away from the rest of the caravan. We
had been marching about six hours when I happened to drop back
for a short time. I noticed, to my dismay, that two camels, those
carrying my food supplies and luncheon-basket, were missing. The
camel-driver, a very sleepy Arab boy of the name of El Bashir,
had mounted one of the animals in the middle of the caravan and
was calmly sleeping on his beast. There was no sign of the camels,
and it was impossible to say when they had strayed.

I could not afford to lose those camels, for they carried all my
provisions; at the same time it would have been madness to delay
the whole caravan when water was so scarce and time so precious.
The remaining water was divided into two portions, and half was given
to El Bashir. I threatened him with all sorts of penalties should
he dare to return without the lost camels, and sent him off to look
for them, while we proceeded on our way to In Ouzel. Next day our
water was finished, and at midday I made a frugal repast off the
reserve ration I kept always in my haversack. The meal consisted
of a handful of dates and a little “couscous.” I shall not
easily forget the experiences of the next twenty-four hours. We
were all without water, and my “boy” and I were without food.
Mahomed offered me some of his dates, but I was prouder than my
servant Musa, and declared I was not hungry. The heat seemed more
overpowering, and the desert seemed more deathly still than ever,
during that time.

Our throats got parched and our tongues began to swell from the heat
and thirst. How we longed for the sun to set, and the cool of the
evening to relieve us a little from some of our torture! But that
night there was no time to rest, we must march on in spite of our
fatigue. This was a time when rest for ourselves or camels was not
to be thought of, so we trudged wearily on. When the following day
we arrived at In Ouzel we were all thoroughly exhausted, and the
craving for water was something pitiable. Even that hardy desert
wanderer, Mahomed, rushed to the well as soon as it came in sight,
hastily lowering a small leather vessel at the end of a rope and
drawing it up full of water. I must own that I was relieved beyond
expression to see the water, for I had had a horrible fear that,
perhaps, this well too would be dry. I had not let my thoughts
dwell too much on this possible eventuality, for the consequences
would have been too serious to contemplate. Another fear that had
crossed my mind was that Mahomed might lose the way. Fortunately,
all came right in the end, and even the lost camels turned up that
evening. Somehow I did not seem to feel my hunger so much after we
got to the well of In Ouzel and I had satisfied my thirst, but when
the camels did arrive I soon realized how hungry I really was. After
this experience I determined not to trust El Bashir to do rearguard
on the march, and in future I always put Musa there when I was not
in rear myself.

[Illustration: SHEEP AT THE WELLS OF BOURASSA

When we halted at these wells the Tuaregs were bringing their
flocks down to water. It was pitiful to see the unfortunate animals
endeavouring to get shade behind the trunks of some leafless trees
in the vicinity. The weaker beasts fared even worse, having to
be content with such shade as they could find under the shadow of
their stronger brethren who had usurped the best places.]

[Illustration: TUAREG HOVELS AT IN OUZEL

These miserable shelters consist of a few sticks supporting
some goatskins and ragged cloths. The inhabitants have to crawl
in on hands and knees; nor is there standing-room inside. They
are frequently blown down by the terrible sandstorms which rage
constantly here, but possibly their very lowness safeguards them
to some extent from destruction by these hurricanes of sand.]

After the trying times of the last two days both the camels and we
were greatly in need of a rest, and so it was decided to halt for
three or four days at In Ouzel. This was all the more necessary as
the next stage of our journey would take us through the Tanezrouft,
and to attempt to cross this inhospitable region with inferior
camels would be madness.

We had now passed the rather indefinite boundary between the portion
of Sahara under the jurisdiction of French West Africa and that part
of the great desert which came under the sphere of the Governor
of Algeria. The boundary lay between Bourassa and Taoundert,
running approximately along the 21st parallel. The country in
which we now were was no longer the land of the Ifora Tuaregs. It
was uninhabited except for short periods in the year, when suitable
grazing might be found for a small number of camels. At such periods
a heterogeneous collection of desert nomads used to make it their
temporary head-quarters. These might consist of a small caravan of
Arabs and a few Tuaregs of the Hoggar tribe. The latter belong to
a mountainous desert country lying to the north-east of In Ouzel.

When I arrived at In Ouzel there were some half-dozen of these
people still there, although the time of year was not any longer
favourable, and they were already preparing to leave. As nearly
all the pasturage had been eaten up, there was not much left for
our sorely tried camels, and in any case a couple of them appeared
too exhausted for further marching until they had had a long rest.
Mahomed said he thought the short halt we proposed to make would be
sufficient to get the remainder of the caravan in marching trim,
and we arranged with the nomads just departing for the hire of
two suitable baggage camels to replace our jaded beasts. The new
camels were indeed a great acquisition, for they had been in their
pasturage for the past three months, were now in good condition,
and boasting of fine big humps.

My recollections of In Ouzel are the reverse of pleasant. I pitched
my tent on an open space not far from the well, and close to a dead
mimosa, from which I vainly hoped to get a little shade during the
day. Musa rigged himself up a kitchen with the help of some articles
of baggage with one of my tarpaulins thrown over them, while all
the remainder of my kit was stacked in view of the tent, as robbers
have always to be feared in the desert. Things appeared fairly
ship-shape, and I was looking forward to the rest at In Ouzel, but
the day after my arrival I had an attack of fever which laid me on a
bed of sickness. It was at this moment that my troubles began. From
that day until our departure we had a series of terrible sandstorms.

My tent was blown down right at the commencement, and the force
of the wind was so terrific that attempts to pitch it again were
hopelessly futile. Clouds of sand enveloped my bedclothes and
myself. The suffocating heat of the desert air was intense, while
the sand choked anyone who dared to open his mouth for an instant.
My temperature went up rapidly and refused to come down. When Musa
tried to give me a glass of cold tea or water it immediately became
filled with sand. I used to hide my head under the bedclothes in
desperate efforts to keep the sand-laden air from buffeting my
face. In all my existence I do not think I have ever experienced
such a miserable time as I did at In Ouzel. Eating, drinking,
and sleeping were impossible, and all the time the fever racked my
limbs and made my head throb till I thought I should go mad. I had
long since discarded my mosquito curtain, so I had not even that to
ward off some of the penetrating clouds of sand, although in the
gales that were blowing I hardly suppose it would have been much
use, even supposing it had not been torn to pieces immediately.
Mahomed was most solicitous, but there was nothing he could do for
me. It was not till the evening before our departure that the fever
left me, and I was glad to get out of my bed of sand, feeling very
weak and shaky.

The nomads encamped here seemed to me to lead a remarkably wretched
existence. Both Arabs and Tuaregs lived in tiny hovels made of mimosa
branches with grass roofs. The doorway was so low that the occupant
had positively to crawl in on hands and knees. The structures were
so frailly put together that they were continually being blown down
by the sandstorms, but possibly the low height of the hut made it
a little less susceptible to the wind than it would otherwise have
been. Some of them boasted of an additional covering of a few ragged
goatskins. Inside, the state of dirt and squalor was repulsive. I
suppose that these desert people naturally wash little on account
of the scarcity of water in the Sahara; certainly cleanliness is
not one of their chief attributes.

At In Ouzel they owned a few wretched-looking sheep and goats,
but the marvel was that even these could eke out an existence on
the poor nourishment available. For them there was nothing but an
occasional small tuft of coarse, dried-up grass. It was rather a
pathetic sight to watch them grazing on it.

In the early morning they were led out by the shepherd across the
undulating sandy surface of the desert, in search of food, and when
one animal, more fortunate than the rest, espied one of these tufts
he would start gobbling it up as quickly as he could. It was seldom,
though, that he was allowed to have his meal to himself, for a number
of his fellows would scamper off to dispute possession with him.

Another sight, which would be humorous if it were not so pathetic,
is to see these animals in the middle of the day trying to get a
little shade from the blazing heat of the sun. The strongest of the
flock will take up a position behind the trunk of a mimosa shrub,
whereupon the remainder of the party attempt to benefit by crowding
close up to him, one behind the other, until there is a long tail
of these animals, huddled close behind each other, trying to get
some satisfaction out of the shelter obtainable from the shadow of
the sheep in front.

At In Ouzel the character of the desert had changed
considerably. Here was more the popular conception of the Sahara,
and rather what I had myself imagined it always to be.

A soft white sand covered the landscape on every side. At each
step one sank into it for a depth of about a foot. The ground was
undulating, and occasionally sand-dunes, rising to a height of as
much as a hundred feet, were to be seen. Beyond the sparse grass
no vegetation of any sort existed within sight of In Ouzel, but,
in some of the more sheltered “oueds,” lying to the east of
the well, was a tall shrub, with leaves somewhat resembling the
Scotch fir. This was the plant on which the camels fed. It is
called “ethel” in Arabic, and is fairly common in the Northern
Sahara. I had not previously seen this desert shrub, but this,
I fancy, was due to the desert soil I had hitherto encountered
not being suited to its growth. The “ethel” appears to require
a soft, sandy soil; at any rate, I never found it growing except
in this particular kind of ground. “Ethel” shares with other
Saharan flora the peculiarity of possessing thorns, or rather,
in this case, spikes. It is a curious fact that every herb, plant,
or tree in the desert seems to have some kind of a thorn growing
upon it. The spikes on the “ethel” are perhaps less strong and
hard than in the case of most other Saharan vegetation. It is rather
strange how the camel eats these thorny morsels without apparently
suffering any inconvenience therefrom. By a peculiar motion he
seems to compress the thorns between the roof of his mouth and his
tongue and tear them off. The “cram-cram” grass, of which the
camel is excessively fond, and which is far more nourishing than
the “Ethel,” was no longer to be seen. On quitting the Adrar
we had left it behind. It does not appear to exist north of that
country at all.

[Illustration: MY RIDING-CAMEL IN THE SAHARA

This picture shows my camel ready to be mounted after a midday halt,
during which I had endeavoured to get some shade from a leafless
stunted tree. My saddle was a Tuareg “rahla”; these are made
with a curious cross in front. All the paraphernalia of the march
is hung ready on the saddle, e.g. rifle, water-bottle, haversack,
and camera. My ammunition I used to carry in a bandolier slung
round the shoulder.]

In the Sahara there are two kinds of plants, generally
speaking—plants which do not die if they get no rain during the
year, and plants which only spring up annually if there has been
rain. The former species is rather interesting on account of the
following peculiarities. After rain it sprouts forth new branches
or sprigs, and usually remains fairly green for three years,
after which it will dry up, but not die, and will still afford
nourishment for camels for several years, gradually fading away,
and finally dying if it does not get any rain for a period of seven
years. These periods—three and seven years—are necessarily not
exact in every case, but this is said to be the average. This fact,
of course, accounts for pasturage being found in parts of the Sahara
where it has been known not to rain for a considerable time.

The latter species, viz. the plants which only spring up annually if
it rains, are known to the Arabs by the general name of “acheb.”
It is said that to give life to one of these plants a heavy shower
of rain at least is necessary, and that the soil must have been
saturated for a depth of about four inches. The characteristic of the
“acheb” is that the seed never seems to die. It merely rests
in the ground, waiting for the requisite fall of rain to spring
up. The locality may not have any rain for ten years, yet the seed
will germinate when the rain does eventually come. “Acheb” of
all kinds is eagerly devoured by camels, and most kinds of it are
very nourishing.

There is a totally different sort of flora in the Sahara above
and below the 20th or 21st parallel, and the difference is rather
striking to the traveller, for the change of landscape and climate
to which this must be due is so gradual and so slight as to be
hardly noticeable.

Much of the Saharan vegetation, although so dry and unrefreshing in
appearance, contains a certain amount of liquid. It is this which
enables the fauna of the desert to exist without drinking.

The question of the different herbs of the desert leads one to
consider the subject of how and when camels should be allowed to
graze. I found I had a lot to learn about this, and it is a most
important item in the education of the desert traveller. Since
one’s mobility, and frequently one’s life, must depend on the
state of the camels in the caravan, the subject is obviously worth
studying. Of course, in some cases forced marches are absolutely
necessary, as when crossing a waterless tract of desert with little
water on the camels. But in most cases the welfare of the camel
must be studied as carefully as possible. Now, it has been noticed
that the camel will eat better at certain times of the day than he
will at others. Between the hours of 11 a.m. and 3 p.m. camels do
not graze. They generally lie down and rest at this time. Further,
they do not graze between about 2 a.m. and sunrise. They will,
practically, graze all the rest of the twenty-four hours. Experience
has also shown that they graze better on moonlight nights than when
it is dark. With these data as a guide, one can regulate the time of
marching so as to allow the camels to graze at suitable hours. The
authorities say that the animals should be allowed four hours’
pasturage at the very least during the twenty-four.

Another point to be remembered is that camels ruminate, or chew
their food, for some time after grazing. Time should be allowed for
this. When not grazing, and particularly at night, camels can often
be observed chewing. They will go on scrunching their massive jaws
for hours together, while squatting on their hunkers round the camp
after dark.

Camels are strange beasts, passing the comprehension of man in
many ways. I often used to watch them in their pasturage, and
think what antediluvian creatures they appeared to be. The camel
seems to belong to a prehistoric age, and should be classed with
the giraffe, elephant, and hippopotamus, to my mind. He is a sad
sort of animal, seeming never to take any enjoyment in life. Even
when in perfect liberty, grazing, he does not look happy. He only
then seems to be a little less discontented than usual. But with
all his peculiarities and vices a camel is a necessity in desert
travel, and I suppose we should be grateful to him for enabling us
to cross these inhospitable tracts. Without the camel the Sahara
would be even less known than at present.

                             CHAPTER XXII

The dreaded Tanezrouft — Camel saddles — The wells of Timissao
— A valuable plant — A night march — An improvised shelter
— Sandstorms — Enemies to sleep — Gloomy scenery — The
water supply — An exhausting struggle — The wells of Ahnet —
Instinct of the guides — Protecting the water-skins.

WHILE at In Ouzel I had to make a careful overhaul of my
equipment. The portion of desert now close in front of me was the
much-dreaded Tanezrouft, and a journey across it at any time of the
year was not a thing to be lightly undertaken, but more especially
was this the case during the hottest season.

The Tanezrouft extends between the 23rd and 26th parallels in the
Central Sahara, forming a tract of desert in which there is no water,
to all intents and purposes no grazing and, what is still more
inconvenient in many ways, not even any firewood. The consequence
is that all these necessaries must be carried for a distance of
about 200 miles. The width of this waterless region varies in
different parts, but at the point where I was going to cross it I
must expect to take about seven days to accomplish the journey. This
is a tract which must be crossed as rapidly as possible in order
to reach the wells on the north side, for a camel in hot weather
cannot exist more than about eight days without water; moreover,
the water-skins are calculated to leak to the extent of one-tenth
per diem, from which it is evident that a full water-skin would
have lost the whole of its contents by the tenth day, even if none
of the water in it had been drunk. It follows that any delay over
and above seven days, in the passage of this dreary bit of desert,
would be extremely perilous for the safety of the caravan.

From the above considerations it is obvious that it was imperative
to be most careful that all details connected with the equipment
and organization of the little caravan should be put into first-rate
working order. It was unfortunate that I had been ill at this rather
critical time, but I had in person seen to as much as possible,
and had left everything else in the competent hands of Mahomed.

Broken saddles required to be repaired and thoroughly overhauled,
girths had to be mended and renewed, water-skins must be carefully
tested to see they did not leak more than the normal amount, while
camels’ wounds had to be dressed. Besides, the whole of my kit
really needed overhauling, but owing to the sandstorms constantly
blowing, it was impossible to do this. Our greatest difficulty
was with the saddles, for many of these had the wooden framework
broken, and this required to be firmly lashed in order to make the
saddle serviceable.

There are two or three different patterns of pack-saddle used in
this part of the Sahara. The French-made one is much solider than
the native article, but in some respects is less adapted for use with
camels, and likely to give them a sore back if not carefully attended
to. The French saddle, called the Gao pattern, consists of a wooden
triangular frame, made of two horizontal bars on each side, which
are connected by two transverse pieces at the sides, the apex of the
triangle being formed by a further horizontal bar. This saddle
fits on to the camel’s back on the top of two well-stuffed
panels which are filled with cotton-wool. On the framework are
fixed two iron hooks on each side, so that baggage can be slung
on each side of the frame. In most cases the two panels are sewn
together, a hole being cut in the middle to allow of the camel’s
hump protruding. I found that the chief drawback to these saddles
was that the panels were often not long enough; consequently, if a
load was used which projected lower than the panel on the animal’s
side, he was certain to get chafed by the constant friction of the
article against his skin. I saw some nasty wounds which had been
thus inflicted, and these were always difficult to heal.

The native type of saddle, called the “arrej” in Arabic, is a
far simpler affair, made on the same principle but with two light
pieces of bamboo fitting over each side of the camel, and connected
by two diagonal bamboos. This saddle also is kept from pressing
on the animal’s back by means of a cushion of date-palm fibre,
while no girth whatever is used.

Owing to there being no girth, a very nice adjustment of loads is
required to preserve the balance. I have seen some curious sights
with this saddle, too, when a camel has been coming down hill. If
he trots disaster is almost inevitable, for he jogs his saddle out
of place, and equilibrium between the loads is lost, so that they
fall to the ground, saddle and all.

Riding-saddles, called “rahla” in Arabic, are of two kinds—the
Arabic and the Tuareg saddle. These simply consist of a round
piece of wood for the seat, covered with leather, and a peak in
front as well as one behind. In the case of the Tuareg “rahla,”
which is by far the most comfortable, the peaks are higher and the
seat wider in circumference. The shape of the peak in the Tuareg
saddle is rather strange; it is in the form of a cross. The best
of riding-saddles are hard and uncomfortable if the length of march
is above the average. I used to fold a blanket over mine to soften
somewhat the discomfort caused by the hard wood. I never saw a
saddle of European manufacture, but have no doubt that something
far more comfortable could easily be made.

At In Ouzel Mahomed got rid of the useless El Bashir, and in his
place an Arab friend of his, called Othman, was engaged. The change
was vastly for the better, and I now found things worked much more
smoothly. It appeared that Othman and Mahomed had been partners in
business some time previously, so it was a great stroke of luck to
find him there. It was really essential to have at least two men
with the camels, for if one animal strays while grazing there is
someone left to look after the remainder. As it was, my servant
Musa assisted a great deal in collecting the camels from their
pasturage when we were about to start on a march.

I was more than thankful to leave In Ouzel. My experiences of the
place had been so disagreeable that I hated the sight of it. As
soon as we once more got on the march my spirits rose again and
things assumed a brighter hue.

It was the 22nd of May when we left In Ouzel. Game now was very
scarce, and for about the next ten days I saw nothing more than
two or three Loder’s gazelle in the distance.

We had a march of about ninety miles to the wells of Timissao, which
were on the southern limits of the Tanezrouft; but as we approached
this dreaded region the desert became more and more forbidding in its
aspect. We were now descending rapidly from the elevated plateau of
Adrar to the plain of the Tanezrouft. On the east was a rocky mass
of hills called the Jibal el Tirik, and at the foot of these there
was a small well, but it was nearly dry when we reached it. There
is hardly any grazing-land in this part, so that it never boasts of
even a nomad population. It is absolutely deserted. From the Tirik
hills we passed along a sandy valley between two parallel ranges of
rocky hills for a distance of about forty miles. The sand here was
not like that at In Ouzel, but resembled the sand in the south of
Adrar. It was as hard and as level as a running-track. Walking on
it was very easy, and I used to march six or seven hours without
feeling the slightest fatigue. In this valley the colouring at
sunset was beautiful. As the sun went down and its crimson rays
faded into a more subdued colour, the rocky hills were bathed in a
lovely deep purple light, creating an effect many an artist would
give a great deal to have an opportunity of depicting on canvas.

The last eight miles of the march to Timissao lay across the range
of hills which had formed our right flank coming up the valley. This
again was a new kind of desert scenery. Here there was not a vestige
of sand to be seen. Nothing but bare rocks and huge boulders strewed
the way. Marching was difficult for men and beasts, and at times
there seemed every prospect of losing some of the animals down the
precipitous sides of a rocky gully. Camels, unless specially trained
to it, are by no means surefooted on rough ground; frequently one
would clumsily place his foot on a loose boulder and only recover
himself with difficulty. After a long and excessively hot march
we eventually arrived at the well of Timissao. The well lay in a
sandy “oued,” which suddenly emerged to view as we clambered
to the top of the rocky ridge above it.

A few shrubs of “ethel” were scattered along the sides of the
“oued,” and as we arrived a young Loder’s gazelle peered at
us with inquisitive eyes, astonished at this unwonted intrusion of
his desert haunts.

The well of Timissao, the last we were to see for a week, had the
best water I had tasted since leaving Kidal. It was beautifully
clear and fresh, so unlike the wells of Adrar in this respect. A
big ledge of rock projected from the cliff hard by, under which I
ensconced myself for the day. But after breakfast there was plenty
to be done. We had to water all the camels, and must ensure their
drinking their fill before commencing the fatiguing march across
the Tanezrouft.

In the sand was made a long, narrow drinking-trough, lined with
stones, so as to facilitate the drinking operations. By this means
we could water some half-dozen camels at a time.

Mahomed and Othman were stripped to the waist, busily engaged
in filling up the trough, as the thirsty beasts emptied it, with
buckets full of water, drawn up in the “delou” from the well. It
was a curious sight to watch the animals’ sides swelling to huge
dimensions as they drank. I would notice a camel, apparently thin
and wasting away, with his ribs all showing, come up to the trough,
and after his drink he would look positively sleek and fat. When
camels do drink they are greedy drinkers.

An animal consumes from eight to ten gallons at a time. But to
allow him to drink all he is capable of, it is necessary to let
him return two, if not three times to the trough. After drinking
three or four gallons he will withdraw, and should be allowed to
return in a couple of hours or so for a further ration of water,
and so on till he is satisfied. For this reason it is advisable to
commence the watering in the morning, in order to finish in one day.
Further, camels are naturally thirstier, and drink better, when the
sun is hot, than they will do at night. Watering was not thoroughly
finished till 3 p.m., and Mahomed was anxious to get the caravan
under way that same afternoon, so as to delay the passage of the
Tanezrouft as little as possible. Accordingly the camels were loaded
up with the baggage as soon as they left the water-side. A very
different appearance did they present now they had satisfied their
thirst to the utmost. I have no doubt they realized they were now
going to be called on to undertake a tougher job than usual, and so
must be well provided with their reserve of water for the occasion.

On quitting the well of Timissao we at once entered on the
Tanezrouft. Quickly leaving the rocky hills behind us, we emerged
on to a bleak, arid waste, consisting apparently of a vast plain
of hard sand, with, on the east, a faint line of hills in the
far distance. These hills marked the southern part of the Hoggar
country, a land in which the nomads are Tuaregs, of whom I heard
and saw more later on. Our way lay almost due north, across this
seemingly endless, inhospitable plain of sand. We were now carrying
water, food, and wood for the needs of the whole caravan, both for
men and beasts. The wood we had collected with some difficulty on
the march that morning early, and it chiefly consisted of dried-up
mimosa twigs, but this was supplemented by a dried-up plant which is
found in the Sahara, called “harta” in Arabic, or “aresou”
in Tuareg. The latter fuel is a most useful article, being quite
invaluable in many parts of the Sahara, where trees and shrubs are
not found. It is a plant to which the camels are very partial when
in flower, but when dried up it resembles a bunch of withered twigs.

About 7 p.m. we halted for the evening meal. There was to be little
sleep for anyone the next seven days. The halt to-night only lasted
till the moon rose, and then we were off once more. That night we
marched from about 9 p.m. till dawn, without a halt. For the first
time for months I saw a cloudy sky. The night was very dark, as
the moon became obscured behind the clouds soon after she rose. It
was a marvel to me how Mahomed found the way. Even had the route
been a clearly defined track it would have been none too easy on
such a night. But these desert guides seem to be gifted with almost
supernatural powers of vision, and I never saw him hesitate once. I
walked, as I found it was the only way to keep awake. When I felt a
little tired I mounted my camel, but soon became drowsy and began
to nod; then I felt myself falling off the animal’s back, and
just woke in time to avoid a disaster. It was a long way from the
camel’s back to the ground. A fall would have possibly involved
a broken leg, so I decided to choose the lesser of the two evils
and dismount again.

I was not sorry when the day began to dawn. At any rate, it was now
light and possible to see one’s surroundings. We now halted for
ten minutes, while the devout Mohammedans said their prayers. It
was a picturesque sight to watch these men turn their faces to the
pink flush in the eastern sky and kneel piously on the desert sand
while they uttered the morning prayer, bowing themselves every now
and again to the ground in obeisance to their God. After this short
halt we marched on till the sun grew too hot, about 11 a.m. From 11
till 2 p.m. we again halted, although it can hardly be said that we
rested. The heat was suffocating. There was no shade anywhere. The
only possible hope of getting a little shelter from the direct rays
of the sun was to rig up a _tente d’abri_ of some description. I
had long ago given up using my own tent for this purpose; and in
the Tanezrouft, where one was fatigued after a long march under
trying conditions, it was still less practicable to pitch it.

I improvised a tiny shelter with a waterproof sheet, to the ends of
which were attached four strings. Making use of a couple of short
bamboos, or sometimes of my rifles in the daytime, when there seemed
no chance of danger, to support this sheet, I succeeded in contriving
a small place in which I could sit down. The height was sufficient
to permit of my keeping my sun-helmet on my head while in the sitting
position, and the length was enough to allow me to stretch my legs to
their full extent and yet be thoroughly protected from the sun. The
four ends were tied by their strings to articles of baggage.

My “house” was certainly better than nothing, but it can
hardly be said that it was comfortable. My position was cramped
and tiring, while the heat inside was very oppressive. A further
inconvenience, and the worst of all, was that, when a sandstorm
arose, I was exposed to it from two sides. It was impossible to
make the covering air-tight enough to keep out the clouds of sand.
I tried to close all openings with my available blankets, but the
result was very poor, and in the end I had to resign myself to the
inevitable and get “sanded” patiently!

The sandstorms were very frequent in the Tanezrouft, and much worse
than I had hitherto experienced. The days succeeded one another
without great variation in the monotony, for except for the degree
of violence in the sandstorms, one day was almost exactly the
counterpart of another.

These sandstorms were really the most horrible feature of that
dreaded waterless desert. The storm would begin with little
warning. All of a sudden in the distance there would appear a dense
greyish yellow cloud, whirling rapidly towards us from the distant
horizon. This was preceded by an intensely hot wind, resembling
somewhat the hot-air blast from a furnace when the doors are
opened. This hot wind carried with it countless scattered particles
of sand, the scouts, as it were, of the storm which was following,
and sent on to find out what human beings or animals were there
to become the object of its attack. This preliminary wind, with
its accompanying sand, was a mere bagatelle. The real trial was
to follow. Close on its heels came the sandstorm—a whirling,
densely packed bank of sand, hurrying forward at a headlong pace,
blinding and overpowering everything with which it came in contact.

Before one of these terrible storms it is impossible to stand up
without the danger of being overcome. The only plan is to fall on
the ground and cover up your face, lying there until the storm is
past. The camels instinctively do the same. They know, even quicker
than a man, when a sandstorm is coming, and prostrate themselves
before it arrives. These sandstorms are awful things, to which even
the most experienced and philosophical of Arabs never get used.
Instead of cooling the air, they seem to make it hotter. The heat
when a sandstorm is about is remarkably oppressive. Just before and
after a storm of this description the sun is seen through a haze,
reminding the spectator of the appearance it has in London on a
foggy day. Of course, while the storm is raging no sun is to be
seen. Indeed, the air is so thick with sand that it is impossible
to see more than a few yards. Moreover, the person who raises his
head when a really bad storm is raging is foolhardy in the extreme.

[Illustration: MY SERVANT MUSA IN THE SAHARA

This faithful Hausa servant accompanied me uncomplainingly through
the hardships of nearly two months’ desert travel. It will
be noticed that his garments are rather the worse for wear, and,
indeed, he was in a far more deplorable condition in this respect by
the time we reached Insalah. He, like myself, was obliged to adopt
the “litham,” to prevent the blinding and choking effects of
the sand.]

Besides making one’s eyes very sore and mouth very parched in
spite of every precaution, I found that it made my nose bleed, so
great was the irritation caused by the gritty particles of sand. It
was rare to have a sandstorm at night. I recollect only one case,
and in that instance it was not very severe. These storms usually
sprang up about 9 a.m., and raged discontinuously until 5 or 6 p.m.

It was bad enough for me, but in many ways I pitied the unfortunate
Musa most. He, after a long, weary night march, was perhaps trying
to cook my simple repast at midday, when a sandstorm would come up
with its usual impetuosity and bury everything in oceans of sand. I
must have eaten gallons of sand on this portion of my trek. I
often marvelled that it did not make me ill, but I never noticed
any unpleasant effects except for the disagreeable taste at the time.

During these fatiguing days I found it impossible to sleep at the
midday halt, tired though I was. The discomfort of the interior
of my shelter, even when it was not enveloped in a sand-cloud,
was so great that sleep was out of the question. I always longed
to start on our weary way once more. But the camels had to rest,
and the Arabs and Musa appeared to find no difficulty in slumbering,
for which I heartily envied them. The only time I managed to sleep
was during the short rest in the evening after dinner. The hour of
our departure at night varied with the time of moonrise, but the
evening rest rarely exceeded two to three hours. Altogether we used
to march about eighteen hours out of the twenty-four.

Even when sleeping in the Sahara it behoves the traveller to have one
eye open, for there is always the fear of possible attack from desert
robbers. I used to be very particular at night to secure the safety
of the camp as far as I could. On arriving at the halting-place the
camels were formed in a small circle, each one depositing its load
at the spot where it had halted. A miniature zariba of baggage was
thus formed. At the rear end of this I would have my bed pitched,
and never went to sleep without having my two rifles loaded by my
side. Danger in the desert generally coming from the rear, I was
in a position to meet it at once, for I am a light sleeper. I could
not depend on the Arabs or my servant to keep watch in turns, as I
had previously intended them to do. In any case in the Tanezrouft
the men were generally so weary that it was almost impossible not
to drop asleep.

On the 29th of May, the fourth day of our journey through the
Tanezrouft, the monotonous stretch of sandy plain which we had seen
without interruption since leaving Timissao, gave way to a different
nature of scenery. The country now became rocky and hilly. Barren,
rugged peaks of isolated hills appeared. These rocks were of granite,
split and cracked into hundreds of clefts by the action of the
powerful sun. Although the sandy plains we had been crossing until
now were dreary, desolate expanses, yet, in some ways, the gaunt,
gloomy rocks before us were suggestive of a terrible loneliness
too. On those gloomy but scorching hill-sides there existed no
living thing. That parched-up land of desolation was the home of
eternal death. The tops of the rugged peaks rose some three or
four hundred feet above the surrounding plain, and I dare say, if
some enterprising person cared to climb to the top, he would have
a view over the whole Tanezrouft from one side to another, for the
atmosphere is extraordinarily clear when no sandstorm is blowing.

This rocky spot in the centre almost of the Tanezrouft is known
as In Zize. We were to camp on the other side of these hills at
noon that day, and as we marched we saw some human skulls and the
skeletons of three or four camels. The ghastly remains of some lost
caravan. The bones, and in some cases the skins, were perfectly
preserved. Here there were no vultures or wild animals to feast
on the bodies, nor was there any damp to rot the skin. It was not
difficult to surmise how this caravan came to perish. In the desert
it is nearly always the same story. Either through losing their way,
or an accident to the water supply, a caravan struggles on until
it is exhausted and dies of thirst.

After quitting this place of rocks the desert resumed its former
appearance. The interminable stretches of hard sand seemed to
extend into infinity. As a rule it was flat as a billiard table,
but here and there could be seen a small sandy mound or undulation
which probably served as a landmark to the guide. Our daily marches
averaged forty-eight kilometres, about thirty miles. As the camel
is a slow marcher when laden, and sandstorms greatly interrupted
progress, the distance covered was considerable. Besides, the animals
were now weary and had some difficulty in maintaining even their
usual pace. I was obliged to discard some of my baggage, chiefly
ammunition, heads, and “couscous,” in order to lighten the
loads. The water supply was lightening itself with alarming rapidity,
and required a watchful eye. Musa was the chief, and indeed the only,
offender. The negro is used to drinking a great deal of water, being
ignorant of the virtue of self-control in this matter. I several
times caught him taking surreptitious draughts at the water-skins,
and had to check him severely. The heat, and thirst engendered
by it, were certainly intense, so that I could not help secretly
sympathizing with him, although it was necessary to be harsh. The
daily ration of water was doled out twice a day—at the midday
halt, and again in the evening—and at no other time was anyone
allowed to touch the water supply.

Each day passed in the same fatiguing, wearisome manner. Long,
exhausting night marches, a halt in the midst of heat and discomfort,
followed by further marching in the afternoon, until, by the evening
halt we were dead beat. And all the time, at short intervals, we
had those horrible sandstorms. At night, while marching, it is true,
we were exempt from the trials of a sandstorm, but by that time we
were so tired that we marched sullenly on more like machines than
men. The trials of those days in the Tanezrouft are not easily
to be forgotten. Sometimes I used to wonder if there would be any
end to it. The place in my imagination conjured up ideas of what
the infernal regions must be like. A continual struggling forward
with endless difficulties to contend against. To all intents and
purposes no rest, a thirst that could never be quenched, and an
utter distaste for the monotonous diet of dates and “couscous”
well mixed with sand!

I often now wonder how one got through those weary days. When we
halted in the daytime, as I could not sleep I used to attempt to
write and work up my notes, but the discomfort was so great that
the work I got through did not amount to much. Towards the end the
water we had to drink was so disgusting, owing to the time it had
lain in the water-skin, that the only way I could drink mine was
in the form of tea. Fortunately I was well provided with tea all
through my Sahara trek, and I used my ration of fuel in order to
boil water for tea.

[Illustration: MY ARAB GUIDE, MAHOMED-BEN-KAID-KADDOUR

This man, to whose skill and endurance I am indebted for safely
crossing some eight hundred miles of the Sahara wastes, was a
typical, hardy desert wanderer. With a cupful of water and a handful
of dates as his daily ration he would bear the scorching heat and
suffocating sandstorms without showing any signs of fatigue.]

On the sixth day we crossed a series of parallel ridges of
sand-hills. The sand here was, of course, quite soft, and the
camels’ feet used to sink several inches deep into it. These
sand-hills appeared to stretch as far as the eye could reach to the
west, and possibly have some connection with the hills of moving
sand known as Amool Gragim, which lie to the north of the desert
salt-mines of Taudeny.

On the evening of the 1st of June, just before sunset, we arrived
at the wells of Ahnet, having, to everyone’s joy, at last emerged
from the desolate wastes of the Tanezrouft. Here there was fair
pasturage for the camels, and everyone was in need of a rest,
so I halted for a day and a half.

Some of our animals were in a bad condition. The march had been more
than usually trying owing to the heat, and to the fact that caravans
so rarely travel at this time of year in consequence. A feeling of
satisfaction came over me at the thought that the worst was now over,
for the strain of the last few days had been almost intolerable.

One of the most marvellous things about desert travel in the Sahara
is the extraordinary instinct for finding the way possessed by the
guides, and already referred to.

For miles and miles on the Tanezrouft there was, as far as I could
see, no landmark of any description to assist Mahomed, yet he never
erred. On this vast plain it would be extremely easy to miss a
well, for an error of a few minutes in direction, when prolonged
over a distance of about 133 miles, would bring the caravan to a
point many miles away from the well on one flank or the other. For
this very reason a compass is not of much use in desert travelling.
The guide’s knowledge and instinct must alone be relied upon. Of
course, the sun and stars give a good guide a very fair indication
of his direction, but as I have just hinted, a greater degree of
accuracy than this is imperative, for, surrounding a well, for many
miles there are probably no landmarks to help the guide, and the
well itself can usually not be seen till it is actually reached.

Towards the end of the Tanezrouft Mahomed’s sight began to get
weak. He had probably strained his eyes by continually gazing at
the far-distant horizon. I gave him some lotion from my small stock
of medicines which did him good in a few days.

In the desert one of the commonest diseases, if not the only one
observed in this healthy region, is ophthalmia. It is said to be
produced by the sand which is always in motion in the atmosphere.
Grown-up people and children alike suffer from it.

Our chief source of anxiety was always the water. The skins, or
“guerbas,” in which this is carried are extremely susceptible
to injury. Thorns, which are so common in the Sahara, penetrate the
soft goatskin with ease, causing a puncture which very soon empties
the bag of its precious liquid. For this reason great precautions
are necessary, when a halt is made, that the water-skins shall not
be placed on the bare ground on being taken off the camel’s back.
It is essential to place something firm underneath. Further, the
“guerba” should be covered over in the daytime to prevent it from
perspiring unduly on account of the heat. In the desert one gets to
care for one’s water supply with extraordinary solicitude. But
this is hardly to be wondered at, since it is the very soul of
existence there.

These water-skins each carry about six gallons when full. They
resemble the “mussock” of the Indian “bhisti,” and have
one end left unsewn to act as a mouthpiece. This end is tied up
with string on the march. The “guerba” is slung, by means
of a rope attached to two of its corners, across the hooks on the
pack-saddle. At first I used to carry a water-bottle on my own camel,
but latterly I rejected this in favour of a small “guerba,” which
carried about a gallon of water and kept it far cooler. I never used
a filter, and sometimes was obliged to drink the most filthy water,
which under ordinary circumstances one would not have washed in. I
must say that I seldom felt any ill-effects for long, after drinking
this unwholesome stuff, and can only attribute it to the fact that
one keeps in marvellously good health in that dry atmosphere.

                             CHAPTER XXIII

The Ahnet or Western Hoggar — A bad reputation — Tuareg
highwaymen — A salt well — A barren region — We reach Insalah
— A dramatic entrance — Colonel Laperine — Insalah — Its
importance — Resources — Artesian wells — Varieties of dates
— Pasturage — The streets.

THE region of the Tanezrouft, which we had just quitted, divides
Adrar from the Hoggar country, and it was into the Ahnet, or Western
Hoggar, that we had now emerged. The subsoil of Hoggar Ahnet consists
of a certain amount of clay underneath the sand. In this respect
it differed from the Tanezrouft, which has a large proportion of
salt in its subsoil. The salt is, of course, to a great extent
responsible for the barrenness of the Tanezrouft.

Western Hoggar consists of a plateau, about 200 feet lower than the
Tanezrouft, the average height of which is 1200 feet. The whole of
Hoggar is a mountainous country, situated almost in the middle of
the Central Sahara. The nomads, as has already been stated, are
a tribe of the Tuareg race. Their country is poor, as is only to
be expected in the Sahara, but at the same time a little barley is
grown in certain parts, while a small grape is also known to exist.
These Tuaregs have a certain number of sheep and goats, but they
are far inferior in quality as well as numbers to the flocks of
the Iforas. Indeed, the Hoggars buy goats and sheep from the nomads
of Adrar.

The Hoggars had a most unenviable reputation as the greatest robbers
in the Sahara until quite recent years. The French desert columns
have, however, inflicted some severe lessons on them, and they are
now no longer so much to be feared as formerly. That they have
not altogether abandoned their marauding propensities, however,
I was soon to discover for myself.

The Hoggar country is well placed for its nomads to practise
their robberies. This land lies on the flank of the trade routes of
caravans proceeding from the north to the Niger, or to Domaggoran and
the Hausa States. Hence the Hoggars were greatly feared by these
caravans for many years. If a caravan was not well protected it
was sure to fall a prey to their plundering bands, while isolated
parties of two or three men and a few camels ran considerable
risk of being captured and killed by them. These Tuaregs, like
nearly all their race, are not traders. They have none but the
most meagre resources in their own country, therefore they had to
plunder to live. In the desert they have few superiors, and are
adepts at handling camels. In some parts of their country water is
comparatively plentiful, while owing to the height of the mountains
the cold in the night and early morning from October to January is
very great. The highest peak, Mount Illimane, rises to a height
of 9000 feet, and I have been told that Tuaregs state that snow
has been seen on it. Hoggar Ahnet is in the nature of a flat spur
projecting from this otherwise mountainous country.

At 2.30 p.m. on the 3rd of June we left the wells of Ahnet. This was
now the last stage of the march to Insalah, and as time was getting
short I was anxious to push on as rapidly as possible. I calculated
I had still 800 miles of desert to traverse before reaching the
Algerian railways, and as my leave expired on the 10th of July I
should have some difficulty in reaching England by that date.

Compared with the Tanezrouft this land appeared to be a smiling
garden, so sharp was the contrast! Here there were wide “oueds,”
with good grazing for camels, and the relief at seeing even that
dried-up Saharan vegetation was indescribable. Wells were by no
means numerous, however, and between Ahnet and the next well,
called El Jibal, there was a stretch of eighty-eight miles, or
three long days’ march. It was while traversing this piece of
desert that we had an encounter with some Tuareg highwaymen.

One afternoon, about three o’clock, I noticed three wild figures
riding rapidly towards us on camels. They were approaching from
the south-east, so presumably came from the interior of the Hoggar
country. I called Mahomed’s attention to them, and instinctively
felt for my rifle, which I always carried slung at my saddle. The
small rifle was similarly slung on the saddle of my servant, and
both were always ready for use.

Mahomed was armed with an old French Lebel rifle and was, I knew,
a good shot. Othman had only a flint-lock muzzle-loader, which
was of doubtful value even if he were an expert marksman. In the
Sahara no one travels unarmed, so we were not surprised to see the
new arrivals had weapons. But they were literally armed to the
teeth, so appearances rather suggested they were up to no good.
Each man had an almost new Lebel carbine, with a bandolier full of
ammunition slung beside it, in addition they carried the two Tuareg
swords and a spear each.

Mahomed said nothing in reply to my ejaculation, but I saw him
slip a cartridge into the breech of his rifle, which significantly
showed what he thought of them. I gave Musa a warning word to be on
the alert with the ·303, and by this time they were almost within
speaking distance.

Their appearance was fantastic, reminding one forcibly of the
brigand in a play. The leader, a stalwart man with his face more
than usually enveloped in his “litham,” wore a bright red cloth
thrown over his shoulders, while his legs were encased in a pair of
gaily decorated leather boots, which reached almost to the thigh,
and covered entirely the lower part of his baggy white trousers.
The two followers were similarly attired, but less elaborately, and
appeared considerably inferior in rank. All three were mounted on
the shaggy-haired camels which are bred in the mountainous country
of Hoggar. These beasts looked built for speed, and appeared to be in
first-rate condition. Until I was more certain of their motives I did
not produce my rifle, although I was ready to do so at an instant.

[Illustration: ARAB AND TUAREG

Typical nomads of the Sahara. Observe how their faces are covered
with a veil (“litham”) to keep out the desert sand.]

At the time I was in rear of the little convoy, and the leader,
closely followed by his companions, rode rapidly up to Othman,
who was in front with Mahomed. Two men roughly seized Othman’s
“mesoued” (leather kitbag), while the third got in front of him,
laying his hand on his rifle. Their movements, evidently carefully
prearranged, had been so rapid that all this had happened in a
few seconds. I at once produced my rifle, urged my camel forward,
and ordered them to desist. My knowledge of Temacheq, as the Tuareg
language is called, was limited to a few words, but, on hearing my
tone of voice, they immediately looked towards me, and I covered
the third member of the gang with my rifle. He let go his weapon
at once, and the other two desisted. By this time Musa and Mahomed
had also got their rifles raised, and they realized, I suppose,
that the game was up. I can only imagine that they took it for
granted that we would be cowed at their overbearing demeanour,
otherwise their action in plain daylight would appear very foolish.

I told Mahomed to tell them to clear off at once or I should
make them prisoners; at the same time we relieved them of their
ammunition, without which they were harmless. I could not carry
their rifles, so left them in possession of these. Moreover, rifles
are fairly easy to replace, as there is so much gun-running in
North Africa, but ammunition is very hard to obtain. So ended this
little incident, which was my only experience with desert robbers.
It was perhaps fortunate that this party was such a small one, but,
in any case, we were well armed, and could always have given a good
account of ourselves.

After descending from the plateau of Ahnet we approached the
desolate region called Mouyidir, which lies between Ahnet and the
Tidikelt country. It first appeared as a frowning mass of black,
rocky hills on the east, which got nearer to us as we advanced
each day. Finally, we were marching on the western border of
the Mouyidir country. At this point was a well, called Imbelram,
which we reached on the 8th of June. This well was so salt that
the water was almost undrinkable. My first draught of water made me
ill, and it had an unpleasant effect on all who drank it. However,
we had to fill up our “guerbas” with this water, for there was
ahead of us a waterless region, about eighty miles wide, which was
a part of the Mouyidir plateau.

In some respects this region was as inhospitable as the Tanezrouft,
but a scanty amount of pasturage and fuel existed for the first
fifty miles, the remainder of the desert being absolutely without
any vegetation whatever.

Mouyidir is a district in which rain seldom falls. For the past seven
years there had not been a drop, so it was hardly to be wondered
at that there was little vegetation in the land. The plateau is
of chalky soil, the northern part being cut up with numerous slaty
gullies. Although sandstorms were less frequent here I found the heat
more trying than in the Tanezrouft. The highest shade temperature
I recorded was 111·5 degrees, and possibly we were fatigued by
our previous experiences, so noticed the heat more than we should
otherwise have done.

Musa was quite overcome on two occasions, and I began to feel glad
we were so near Insalah, where he would be able to rest. Poor Musa
by this time had assumed a woeful appearance. His clothes were in
such rags that he had to discard his nether garments altogether,
and turn his coat into trousers, by using the sleeves for his legs!
Around his body he carelessly flung his blanket, thus creating such a
ludicrous object that I could not help laughing when he first showed
himself in his new attire. My own scanty wardrobe was sadly in need
of repair, so I also longed for a chance of mending my clothes.

At this time I had, fortunately, one water-skin of fairly good water
remaining from the previous well, so decided to use it, only, for the
passage of the Mouyidir desert as long as it would last. The salt
water of Imbelram not only made me ill, but seemed to increase,
instead of alleviating, the thirst. Here again hard marching was
the order of the day. The distance to the well of El Gouirat on the
north side was covered in fifty-four hours; and the last fifty-five
miles took no more than thirty-four hours, in which we only rested
for four hours altogether. I must own to being greatly fatigued on
arriving at the well of El Gouirat, but as Mahomed declared it was
“quite near” to Insalah, indicating that we could reach it in
three hours, I decided to go on with him that afternoon, leaving
the baggage to follow with Othman and Musa the next day.

I suppose Mahomed’s joy at being so near his destination made
him exaggerate, for, to my cost, I discovered it was about twenty
miles to the oasis, and we did not arrive till eight o’clock that
night. Our camels were weary, and we were not a whit less so when,
at last, we saw the palm trees of the oasis in the distance.

As we rode over the crest of a sandy ridge Mahomed pointed in front
of us to a faint, dark line, just visible in the rapidly falling
dusk. The houses I could not see; even in the daytime they are
difficult to distinguish from the surrounding sand until one is
quite close to them.

My entry at the officers’ mess was a strange one. The Arab
servant who answered my summons at the door regarded me with evident
suspicion. Probably the only Europeans he ever saw were the officers
with whom he was well acquainted, and the sight of a strange white
face seemed to cause him great uneasiness. He positively refused me
admission, so I brushed past him and mounted some steps towards the
flat roof on which I could see some men sitting. When I announced
myself their surprise was hardly less than that of the servant. They
afterwards told me that they had heard news of my projected journey
during the previous October, nine months ago. They had expected
me to pass through Insalah in March or April, and, as I had not
arrived, they thought I had probably abandoned my plan or come to
grief in the Sahara. No wonder, therefore, that my appearance now
caused them some surprise.

When I arrived that night, the 12th of July, the heartiness of their
welcome could not have been exceeded. It made one really appreciate
kindness when it was extended, as it was by these French officers
to me, with such thorough genuineness.

At the risk of being accused of gluttony, I must acknowledge
how I enjoyed my supper at Insalah that night. After eating food
cooked in sand for the past five weeks it was a treat to have a
well-served-up dish.

It appeared that the Commandant, Colonel Laperine, was away, a
piece of news at which I was much disappointed, for I had heard so
much of his fame as a soldier skilled in desert warfare, that I had
looked forward to this opportunity of meeting him. In the Central
Sahara, I suppose there is no name so widely known and respected,
or feared, as the case may be, by Tuareg and Arab. He had served
for many years with French troops in this region, where only the
hardest and most self-controlled men can possibly exist, and on
many occasions had led “forlorn hopes” with brilliant success.
Although he has now left those parts for a high command in France,
Colonel Laperine’s name is one which will live for many a long
year in the Central Sahara.

[Illustration: INSALAH OASIS

Date-palms grow here in profusion, thanks to the liberal system
of irrigation which waters their roots. In the moist ground at
their feet are grown small patches of barley and a few coarse
vegetables. On seeing this vista of emerald verdure, who would think
that for many hundred miles south, east, and west there is scarcely
a green blade, nor anything more restful to the traveller’s jaded
eye than small patches of sun-scorched Saharan vegetation?]

I was comfortably housed in the post at Insalah that night, and the
following day my baggage arrived at an early hour, having marched
all night. The exhausted camels were taken away by Mahomed for a
well-earned feed on dates and a thorough rest. Although we had been
fortunate in not losing a single animal during the hardships of
the last five weeks, yet most of them were in a desperately poor
condition, and would need many weeks in a pasturage before they
would be again fit for work.

From Gao to Insalah I calculated I had marched across 936 miles of
desert, and the time taken was fifty days.

I had slept that night on the roof of my house, as I was warned
it would be very hot inside. I awoke very early to find a small
sandstorm raging round me, and jumped out of bed fairly quickly. It
was not till some hours later, when the wind had abated, that I
was able to get my first real glimpse of Insalah.

The officers’ quarters were all inside the fortified post, and
were built with thick walls of red clay. This clay is found in the
desert in certain places not far from Insalah, at some feet below
the sand, and all the huts at Insalah are made of it. Insalah lies
in the middle of a sandy plain, which is enclosed on the east and
west by low ridges of sand-hills. It is one of the oases, and the
principal one, in the region called Tidikelt. It is a date-palm oasis
of some importance. The oasis stretches for a distance of about three
and one-third miles to the west, while the grove of palm trees is
on the average one and one-third miles wide. Insalah is made up of
three “ksours” or villages. The total population is about five
hundred. These consist mostly of Arabs, but traders from all parts
of the Sahara, who are constantly arriving on their way through,
make a further floating population of fifty to one hundred souls.

The importance of Insalah is due to its geographical position.
It lies at the eastern extremity of the long line of oases which
commences with Colomb Béchar, extending through Beni Abbes and
the Touat. Owing to this comparatively fertile region of oases
giving a good line of communication into the Sahara from the west,
caravans from the borders of south-west Morocco naturally follow
this route and come to Insalah. From Insalah there are several
important caravan routes leading north, south, and east. The main
caravan route from the north, leading from Biskra to the Niger,
passes through here; while caravans proceeding to Tripoli from the
west also use this route in preference to any other.

Water at Insalah is very plentiful, but slightly salt. It is found
at a depth of about fifteen feet, but the second layer of water,
which is preferable for Europeans to drink, is found at a depth of
thirty feet.

The principal resource of Insalah is its dates. The population lives
on the date harvest, and there is a sufficient surplus for sale to
nomads in less favoured localities in the desert. A small quantity of
corn and barley is also grown by irrigation. The method of irrigating
is worthy of notice. Water is, of course, led from the wells, of
which there are positively hundreds at Insalah. Small trenches
are dug, called “fogara,” by which the water is conducted
from the well to the foot of the palm trees, thus irrigating the
dates. Around the foot of the palms each landowner grows a small
farm of corn or barley. These little farms are irrigated from the
main “fogara,” by minor channels leading in different directions.

During the past three years the French have bored numerous artesian
wells. The largest gives an output of 4500 litres a minute. The
result of all this irrigation is to produce a wonderfully verdant
mass of foliage, which is most refreshing to the eye of the desert
traveller, who, like myself, has not seen anything that could be
called really green for many weeks. It cannot be said that Insalah
is a prosperous centre of trade. Beyond a little commerce in dates
it does no business whatever. The inhabitants are poor. The place
is being rapidly encroached on by the desert sand, and, altogether,
its future does not appear bright. In order to prevent the sand
from encroaching desperate efforts have been made to keep it out
by building barricades on the side from which the prevailing wind
blows. These barricades, built on the north-east of the oasis, are
made of batches of palm leaves, placed on the tops of high mounds
or sand-dunes. But Insalah is a place of sand, in which, during the
greater part of the year, a strong north-east wind is blowing, ever
bringing more and more sand into the oasis. The so-called streets
are several inches deep in soft sand, and everything gets covered
with it in the houses.

[Illustration: THE ARTESIAN WELL OF EL BARHA AT INSALAH

By boring artesian wells the French have done much to fertilize the
Insalah oasis. The first layer of water at Insalah is close to the
surface, but is exceedingly saline, which is seen by the curious
crust of salt deposited on the surface of the sand in the vicinity
of a well. The water at this artesian well rushes out with great
force, being led off in various directions by small channels to
irrigate the surrounding land.]

[Illustration: THE MARKET-PLACE, TOUGGOURT

Groups of Arabs are to be seen, squatting in Eastern fashion,
selling their wares at these stalls in the daytime. The market
is also a great place for gossip, where the news of the desert is
dispensed—often highly coloured—to all comers. One of the chief
features here is the tea tavern, much frequented by these people,
who, being Mussulmans, are forbidden, by the tenets of the Koran,
to drink alcohol.]

While at Insalah I went for a ride in the palm groves, and it was
then that I learned something about dates. There are many varieties
of the fruit, but the principal ones are the “grhess” and the
“deglet-nour.” The former is the ordinary date of commerce, and
is the one grown and sold at Insalah. It is the “grhess” which
is eaten by the desert traveller, and it is carried for sale in bags
made of camel’s hair, called “tellis.” A “tellis” contains
eighty to one hundred kilos of dates, and two “tellis” make a
camel’s load. Dates are harvested in September or October. At this
period of the year nomads flock to the oasis to gather their harvest
or buy the fruit if they do not themselves possess trees at Insalah.

The “deglet-nour” is a finer date. It is, indeed, the date we
see in England, sold for dessert in white boxes. None of these are
grown at Insalah, but they come from the oases in the extreme north.

If rain falls in any quantity where dates are growing the fruit is
ruined. The date tree requires plenty of irrigation at the roots,
but water on the fruit quite spoils the latter. The reason for this
is that dates are covered with a coating of sugar, which protects
and nourishes the fruit, but rain washes this off. At Insalah,
and all date oases, there are swarms of flies. These flies come to
feed on the sugar, just mentioned, on the coating of a date. The
plague of flies in these places is most disagreeable, and commences
from the time the fruit begins to ripen, continuing till the end
of the harvest.

Pasturage for camels is bad and scarce near Insalah. Camels have
to be sent 200 kilometres away to graze, so that, when they are at
Insalah, some other form of food has to be given them. The animals
actually stopping in the oasis are generally fed on dates. These are
broken up into small pieces, and either given raw, or cooked soft,
to the beasts. Dates are an expensive form of diet for the camel,
as his appetite is so insatiable, but at the same time they are
very nourishing. Camels are also fed on barley, but as the quantity
grown at Insalah is so small this form of food is exceptional.

Some of the streets of Insalah are absurdly narrow. The main street
in the principal “ksour” in one place is barely twelve inches
wide. The ponies of the oasis are very clever at passing along
it—from constant practice, I suppose. The houses at this spot
have been built so close together that little room was left between
them for a street. Insalah has the appearance of an Eastern town.
Arab beggars and cripples are a common sight in its streets. Some
of these are uncommonly dirty, but picturesque. Tattered, flowing
gowns, once white, but now coffee colour from the dirt of ages,
adorn their lean bodies; while the older ones have fine white beards,
often sweeping half-way down their breast. The Arabs of this part are
fine-looking men as a rule. They are very pale of complexion, with
black or dark brown eyes, aquiline noses, and white teeth. Most of
them are muscular and extremely wiry. I fancy a great many children
die at birth, so it is a case of the survival of the fittest.

A strange place is this little town of sand, buried in the heart of
the Central Sahara, but although so small, and with such limited
resources, what a paradise it seems to many a wayfarer in the
desert! Here at least it is possible to get shelter from the cruel
sandstorms and from the fierce heat of the sun. At Insalah there is
that precious necessity of life, water. While here, also, a man can
rest, and his camels can be relieved of their burdens. The necessity
for hurrying forward with the restless energy which is required
of a caravan in the Sahara need no longer be exercised. Peace and
rest are the two exclamations which must rise to the lips of almost
every traveller when he sees the Oasis of Insalah before him.

                             CHAPTER XXIV

Disturbing news — _En route_ for Algiers — A remarkable man —
Horses at Insalah — Hospitality of French officers — Slavery
amongst the Arabs — An unusual sight — A pathetic story —
My own valet and cook — A precipitous track — The “Great
Erg”— Hassy Inifel — An incompetent guide — Lost — A useful
camel-driver — A hospitable Arab chief — An unappetizing menu —
The dates of Ouargla — Touggourt — A ramshackle coach — Biskra.

THE morning after my arrival at Insalah the officer in command of
the post came to see me wearing a very troubled look. I could not
help surmising that some serious incident had occurred, and waited
for him to tell me what it was.

It appeared that a messenger had just arrived in great haste on a
camel from a place called Tit, which was a small oasis in the Touat
region, about sixty-six miles from Insalah.

The messenger, a “Méhariste” of the camel corps, stationed in
the Tidikelt, was one of a column which had gone out with Captain
Niéger, some days previous to my arrival, into the desert west of
Insalah. This column was engaged in some military operations in that
district which were expected to last some time. The news which he
brought was grave. It appeared that Captain Niéger had stopped at
Tit to settle some dispute between two Arabs there. One of these
men, apparently dissatisfied with the decision of the Captain in
the matter, had waited his opportunity for revenge.

When Captain Niéger was entering his tent and had his back turned
to the man, the latter sprang upon him and stabbed him in the
liver. He then lifted his dagger for a second blow, but Captain
Niéger had quickly turned and caught his hand as it was descending.
The second stab was of no consequence, merely cutting his wrist,
but the first one had caused a dangerous wound. The Captain lay in
a serious condition at Tit. The message urgently asked for a doctor
to be despatched at once. It was further stated in the message that
the would-be murderer was a fanatical Mohammedan, but that he had
been caught, and it was hoped the trouble would not influence other
fanatics in the district to a serious rising. My host was naturally
very disturbed at this news, especially as the Captain was a great
personal friend of his. A doctor was immediately despatched to
the scene of the incident, and we could only hope that he would
be in time to save the officer’s life. It was evident that his
condition was critical, for the Captain had sent a message for his
family in France.

I had now to arrange for fresh camels and a new guide to accompany
me from Insalah to the end of my journey. My original plan had been
to go from Insalah to Colomb Béchar. The latter oasis lies about
600 miles north-west of Insalah. It is at the rail-head of the
Oran railway. I now found, however, that I should not have time to
carry out this part of my programme, and that I should be obliged
to adopt the shorter route to Algiers, which led almost due north
through the oases of Ouargla and Touggourt. By this latter route I
should be able to join the railway line at Biskra, 125 miles north
of Touggourt. Moreover, between Touggourt and Biskra I could have
the benefit of the coaching service, which runs three times a week
and covers the distance in two days.

An Arab trader was found willing to let me have camels and to act
himself as guide. My caravan was to be ready on the 15th. I had now
consumed, or thrown away, so much of my ammunition and provisions
that I could with ease reduce the number of baggage animals to two.

A French sergeant, who was proceeding on leave, was to accompany
my caravan. He also had two camel loads. Our two “méhara,” or
riding camels, made the total of the caravan amount to six camels.
The guide had one “sokrar,” or camel driver, to assist him,
and included in the party was an Arab soldier going on furlough to
the north.

Our guide was not a prepossessing individual. He belonged
to a mongrel race who were an offshoot from the big Chaamba
tribe. His appearance led one to believe that he was a lazy and
not over-intelligent scoundrel. However, guides do not grow on
every gooseberry bush at Insalah, so I considered myself lucky to
be able to secure one so quickly.

A question that rather puzzled me was how the news of my intended
arrival had not reached Insalah by the messenger who had been
despatched from Kidal. I was informed, however, that he had not
yet arrived, and, curiously enough, he did not arrive till the day
before I left Insalah. So I had actually travelled more rapidly
than he had done! He had been much delayed by some accident to his
camel and by the great heat on the way.

The camels I was to use were far stronger-looking animals than any
I had seen in the south. On the other hand, the riding camels of
the north are inferior to those of the Iforas. The baggage camels
will here carry enormous loads. It is quite a common sight to see
400 to 500 pounds on an animal’s back, while they even carry as
much as 600 pounds in some parts. Camels will travel without a halt
for a fortnight with such a load on their backs without suffering
any ill-effects. But, at the same time, it must not be thought that
these animals will be fit for hard work at once directly they reach
their journey’s end. Like other camels in the Southern Sahara,
they require long periods of rest after accomplishing a long desert
march. Two to three months in perfect liberty in their pasturage
is necessary for a camel in such a case.

[Illustration: THE SPRING OF EL GUETTERA

This is an unusually attractive-looking spot for the Sahara
Desert! It was the only occasion on which I saw water flowing out
of a spring between Gao and Biskra—1600 miles. A spring of cool,
crystal water flows out of the rock here—a grateful boon to the
thirsty traveller who, like myself, has been existing on disgusting
liquid, made nauseous by several days’ jolting in a not over-clean
water-skin.]

At Insalah there is a fine library well equipped with books on
desert travel. I had little time to do more than glance at one
or two of these, but any desert traveller could not fail to be
interested in much of this literature. One book particularly roused
my interest. This was a work of Saharan travel by a man called
“Père de Foucauld” (the Vicomte de Foucauld), whose name is
well known to men in Central Sahara.

This remarkable man was originally in the French army, but latterly
joined the sect of the “White Fathers.” He has travelled much in
the desert, and a great many years ago executed a wonderful journey
from the Mediterranean through Morocco to the Atlantic coast in the
Spanish colony of Rio del Oro. This journey he performed in disguise
as an Arab, but was discovered by the natives to be a Christian
and a European, and only escaped with his life after running some
extraordinary risks. M. de Foucauld has for the past few years
taken a great interest in the Tuaregs of the Hoggar country. He
resides among them, treating sick people and doing much good in
several ways. He has so far gained their confidence as to be able
to remain unmolested in their wild land. Further, he has greatly
assisted the French Government in stopping the plundering habits of
the Hoggars. He resides in a little hut in a part of their desert
called Tamanrasset, a good many miles to the east of the route I
had taken, and is almost the only European with any knowledge of the
language of the Tuaregs. He is now engaged in writing a dictionary
which will be of the greatest assistance in the study of Temacheq.

The horses in use at Insalah come from the north. They are bred
in that part of Algeria called the Tell, which is a region along
the coast of the Mediterranean. These horses seem to keep very
fit at Insalah. They are sturdy little animals, about 13.2 to 14
hands, rather resembling the Barb, but more stoutly built. All the
Europeans at Insalah keep horses. Of course, these animals are of
no use in the desert, but to ride about in the oasis they are most
useful. The chief difficulty is getting them across the Northern
Sahara to Insalah. They are fed on barley or crushed dates. No sheep
or cows were to be seen, but I was told that in the cooler season,
from October to January, when the caravans are trading with the
Adrar of the Iforas, a considerable number of sheep are brought
here for sale. My guide Mahomed told me that the previous year
he had brought a flock of sheep from Kidal, which had cost on the
average 5 francs a head, and he had sold them at 15 to 25 francs
apiece at Insalah. The profit was good, but obviously the risk
was great, even when wells were more numerous and better supplied
with water than at the present season of the year. Moreover, there
was always the dangerous passage of the Tanezrouft to cope with,
and for that portion of the journey water had to be carried for
the sheep as well as the men of the caravan, thus entailing a huge
number of camels for water alone.

The last morning of my stay at Insalah I was the guest of the
officers at _déjeuner_. I was much honoured at being the recipient
of many kindly expressed wishes from the good friends I had made
there, and, as they stated, it was rather a unique occasion for an
English officer to be entertained in the Sahara by officers of the
French army. Many and fervid were the words in which the Commandant
hoped for the continuance of the _entente cordiale_, and I could
only reply that, judging from my experiences while travelling
through the vast country which was ruled under the French flag,
there seemed little likelihood of the good feeling between the two
countries not enduring for many years to come.

My servant Musa had not yet recovered from the effects of our trials
in the Tanezrouft, and I had some doubt as to the advisability of
taking him any further. Unfortunately, there was not the slightest
prospect of getting a servant of any description at Insalah. While I
was debating this point, however, he hinted at being frightened of
going into Algeria on account of his dread of being captured into
slavery by Arabs. Until quite recent times much of the slave-trade
in the Sahara was carried on by the Arabs. These people used to
raid down into the south, carrying off into slavery the negroes
of the Niger valley. Since the advent of the French this trade had
practically ceased to exist, although isolated cases did even now
occur. Musa had probably heard some of the harrowing tales of olden
days, and seemed to think he would be putting his head into the
lion’s mouth should he venture into the very country of the Arabs.

In the ordinary course not much harm was done by capturing slaves
in the old days, for they were very well treated, not hard worked,
and well fed. In fact, many of these slaves used to refuse to take
their liberty when it was offered them. But in the case of slaves
being captured by Arabs the position was a very different one. The
Arabs were cruel masters, who beat and sometimes killed their slaves
for the most trivial offences. Hence they were universally hated
and feared by the negro. I pointed out to Musa that this sort of
thing could not easily happen at the present day, and that with me
he would be perfectly safe. I think, however, that his nerves were
rather overwrought at what he had suffered, and he hardly seemed
to be convinced. Under the circumstances it seemed more prudent
to allow him to remain behind. Accordingly, I arranged with a
French officer to take charge of him until there was a suitable
opportunity of sending him with a caravan to the Niger in the
autumn. I was sorry to part with Musa for several reasons. He was
an excellent, hard-working, and faithful “boy.” I had hardly
heard him utter a single complaint all through that trying time
in the desert. Moreover, his loss was an irreparable one for me.
Henceforth I should have to cook my own food and make my own bed. I
can hardly say I relished the prospect!

For the first twenty-five miles of our journey north there were
two oases, in each of which the water was obtained from artesian
wells, and was excellent. The idea of finding wells at such close
intervals appeared strange after our former experiences, and it
hardly seemed as if we could really be still travelling through the
Sahara. The intervening country, however, was typical desert. These
two spots had been fertilized by purely artificial means, merely
possible because the water here is plentiful and at no great depth
below the surface of the sand. The surroundings are desolate in
the extreme. A bare, undulating, sandy plain is the characteristic
feature of the whole country. No “oueds” or pasturage for camels
are anywhere available. Not a leaf or blade of grass is to be seen.
Camels are fed on dates procurable at these two oases _en route_.
At the second oasis, called Foggaret el Zoua, there is a fair amount
of barley grown. After this there was no water for fifty-seven miles,
until we reached the mountain range of El Guettera. Here there is
a spring in the rock, so that one actually sees a faint trickle of
running water—an unusual sight in the desert, and one I had not
seen since quitting the Niger, nearly eight weeks previously.

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: 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.]

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: 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

 Abdul Karim, 228
 Abeibera, wells, 282, 284
 Acheb, a desert herb, 292, 330
 Addax in the Sahara, 284
 Adrar country, 266, 270, 271, 273, 277, 278, 280, 284, 297,
298, 310, 316
 Africa, 17
 Agamhor, wells of, 257
 Ahnet wells, 307, 310, 311, 312, 314
 Akka, 173, 174
 Algeria, 134, 287, 338, 339
 Algerian rams, 180
 Algiers, journey to, 17, 323, 339
 Alimamy, West African chief, 57
 Amool Gragim, 307
 Ansongo, 134, 223
 Arabs, Berabeesh, 231
 Chaamba, 324
 Kountah, 226, 231, 250, 253, 265
 Saharan, 304, 316, 318, 320, 321, 323, 327, 329
 Western Soudan, 192, 219, 231, 245, 272, 282, 289
 Architecture, Western Soudan, 154
 Aresou, a Saharan plant, 300
 Armas, race of, 244
 Arrej, or camel saddle, 296
 Artesian wells, 319, 335, 340
 Atlas Mountains, 193
 Azalai, salt caravan, 230
 Bagwé River, 36
 Baiima, 22
 Balandougou, 92, 103
 Ballaini, a musical instrument, 54
 Bamako, 70, 73, 85, 90, 103, 104, 107, 111, 113, 118, 119, 120,
133, 195, 233, 240, 241
 Bamba, 239, 241
 Bambara language, 18, 69
   people, 122, 123, 136, 141, 192, 227, 236
 Maaundée, 207, 208, 217
 Bandiagara, 128, 157
 Bani River, 150, 156, 157, 159, 176
 Baobab tree, 68
 Bara Issa, River, 173, 182, 190, 191, 195, 204, 219, 220, 222
 Barges, Niger, 103, 145, 154, 176, 233, 235
 Barley, 318, 338
 Barter, articles of, 234
 Barth, explorer, 228
 Beehives in Guinea, 66
 Beni-Abbes, 318, 330, 340
 “Bend” of Niger, 128, 130, 131, 164, 177, 187, 193, 206,
229, 235, 239, 243
 Beyla slaves, 271
 Bird life, 38, 39, 40, 41
 Biskra, 318, 323, 335, 336, 337, 338
 Bo, Sierra Leone, 20
 Bobo Djilassu, 67, 141, 144, 148
 Boia tramway, 22
 “Borgou” herb, 171, 177, 186, 221, 238, 239, 243
 Bosos, fishermen, 151, 192, 221, 222
 “Boucle,” the, 128
 Boundary of Algeria-Soudan, 287
 Bouramaka Yaroro, 203
 Bourassa wells, 284, 285, 287
 Bourem, 242, 243, 253
 Braimah, my hunter, 78, 81, 82, 86, 87
 Bread, cost of, 190
 Breeding of Soudan horses, 140, 222
 Bullock transport, 217
 Bunce River, 23
 “Bundu” society, 23, 31, 44
 Buré, 101
 Burial rites of Korankos, 43, 44
 Bushcow in Konnoh country, 34
 Bush fires in West Africa, 37, 38, 52
 Bushfowl in French West Africa, 39, 110, 179, 218
 Bustard, 40, 164, 178, 218
 Butter-making at Bamako, 130
 Camels on the Niger, 132, 144, 217, 231
 Camels in the Sahara, 245, 250, 252, 257, 258, 259, 260, 261,
262, 268, 276, 279, 286, 287, 292, 295, 298, 300, 320, 328, 332
 Camping on the Niger, 148
 Cancer, tropic of, 280
 Canoe-building, 193, 195
 Canoes on the Niger, 185, 193, 222, 226
 Caravans in the desert, 242, 269, 286, 305, 323, 324, 339
 Carriers, French Guinea, 49, 52, 81, 92, 94
 Kissy, 26
 Mendi, 26
 Upper Senegal and Niger, 113
 Castes, in French Guinea, 57, 58
 Cattle, 171, 197, 238
 Cave-dwellers, 215
 Chaamba Arabs, 324, 330
 Chad, Lake, 110
 Charlotte Ville, 160, 161
 Chiefs in French Guinea, 93
 Chop-box, definition of, 21, 141
 Chotts, 340
 Clay in the Niger Valley, 195, 243
 Coach to Biskra, 336
 College, Arabic, at Djenné, 161
 Colomb-Béchar, 318, 323
 Cook, my native, on the journey, 18, 70, 236
 Corn-growing, 318
 Cotton-growing in Sierra Leone, 27
 West Africa, 28, 150
 Couscous, 234, 275, 286, 306
 Cowbird, peculiarity of, 41
 Cram-cram grass, 238, 265, 268, 291
 Creoles, description of, 20
 Crested crane, 241
 Crocodiles, 146, 147
 Crown-bird, 241
 Dahomey, 130, 245
 Dakar, 153, 228
 Dances, native, 65, 66
 Daru, head-quarters of Frontier Force, 25
 Dates, in the Sahara, 275, 286, 318, 319, 320, 328, 330, 334
 Date palms, 239, 317, 318, 319, 336
 Defile of Tosaye, 241, 242
 De Franco, Captain, 140
 Déglet-nour, dates, 319, 334
 Délou, waterbucket of the desert, 250
 Diafarabé, 154, 176
 Dialakoro, hunting village, 78
 Digue, Commandant, 133
 Dioula, trader of Western Soudan, 63
 Djenné, Holy City of Western Soudan, 153, 154, 157, 159, 161,
167, 176, 192, 229
 Domaggaran, 311
 Donkeys in the Western Soudan, 223, 231, 284
 Douentza, in the Niger “Bend,” 202, 207, 208, 210
 Doulajan, 80, 82
 Doves in the Sahara, 256
 Driver ants, 168
 Drums, use of, as signals, 76
 Duck on the Niger, 70, 148, 172, 174, 175, 188, 218, 240
 Duiker “crowned,” 60
 Dum palms, in the Niger Valley, 190, 193, 197
 Egrets on the Niger, 165
 Eguerrer, Oueds, 265
 El Bashir, camel driver, 285, 286, 287, 297
 El Gouirat, wells of, 316
 El Guettera, spring, 328, 329, 330
 El Jibal, 312
 El Djouf, the “Belly of the Desert,” 340
 Elephant bathing at night, 211, 212
 Elephant in the Niger Valley, 18, 59, 80, 82, 84, 85, 95, 96, 211
 Elephant skulls at Gao, 243
 Erg, the Great, 331
 Erg-Iguidi, 272
 Escort to Kidal, my, 245, 246, 251, 267
 Es-Souk, 229, 277
 Ethel, Saharan vegetation, 290, 291, 298
 Explorers in North and West Africa, 227, 228
 Falama, French Guinea, 76, 78, 85, 89, 111
 Fama, the, of San Sanding, 151
 Farakoro village, 46, 47
 Faranah, French Guinea, 51, 53, 56, 84
 Feliko, River, 36
 Ferrière, Captain, 225
 Fetish charms of hunters, 83, 86, 87
 Fie River, 90, 95, 99, 101, 102
 Firearms, antiquated, 197
 Fishing on the Niger, 105
 Fish-tanks on the Niger, 186, 238
 “Flamboyant” tree, 144
 Fogaras, 318
 Foggaret-El-Zoua, 328
 Foucauld, Vicomte de, 325
 Freetown, 17
 Frontier Force Battalion, 25
 Frontier rock, Sierra Leone, 36
 Fruit in Guinea, 66
 Fruit in Upper Senegal and Niger, 123
 Fuel for Niger launches, 144, 148
 Fulani, 57, 64, 74, 186, 190, 192, 199, 200, 202, 207, 209,
217, 222, 238
 Fulani cattle, 171, 197, 238, 240
 Futa Jallon country, 63, 64, 72, 200
 Gadel, Commandant, 236
 Gangaber, on the edge of the Sahara, 247
 Gao, 225, 226, 233, 234, 237, 243, 251, 252, 254, 257, 274,
279, 284, 295, 317, 338, 340
 Garangis, caste of, 57
 Garden in French West Africa, 65, 123, 149
 Gauba, the ostrich farm, 179, 182, 184
 Gazelle of the Sahara, 179, 196
 “Red-Fronted,” 178, 240, 255
 Gazelle, “Loder’s,” 265, 284, 297, 298, 330
 Geese on the Niger, 70, 172, 174, 175, 188, 218
 Giraffe in the Niger basin, 18, 241, 246, 247
 Giraffe skins for manufacture, 246
 Goats on the Niger, 156, 238
   in the Sahara, 256, 273, 289
 Gold in French Guinea, 91, 101
 “Gold mohur” tree, 144
 Goose, the “bio-lou” species, 175
 Great Erg, 230
 Grhess, a variety of date, 319
 Ground nuts, 62, 63, 130
 Guerba, a leather vessel, 249, 250, 308, 309, 315
 Guides in the desert, 248, 250, 261, 263, 264, 269
 Guinea-fowl, 39, 110, 179, 270
 Guinée, a trade cloth, 234, 256, 270
 Gundam, near Timbuctu, 228
 Haarta, Saharan plant, 300
 Haartebeest, 83, 178, 204, 206
 Habbés, cave-dwellers, 215, 216
 Halley’s Comet, in the desert, 287
 Harmatan, a north-east wind, 24, 42, 43
 Hassy, Arabic term for well, 331
 Hausas in the Western Soudan, 192, 203, 236, 311
 Head-dress of West Africans, 123
 Highwaymen in the desert, 312
 Hippopotamus, 79
 Hoare, a Mendi charm, 29
 Hoggar Tuaregs, 287, 300, 310, 311, 312, 313, 325
 Holy City of the Western Soudan, 153
 Hombori Mountains, 215
 Hornbill, habitat of, 38
 Horos, castle of, 57
 Horses, native, 71, 125, 131, 139, 140, 201, 209, 222, 231
 Hotels in Western Soudan, 132, 134
 Hourst Expedition, 138
 Hrabis, caste of, 57
 Human Leopard Society, 30
 Hump of the camel, peculiarity, 280, 295
 Hunters, types of, 78, 195, 207, 208, 210
 Hunting, native methods of, 60
   in French West Africa, 78
 Huts, native, 190, 202
 Hyenas, 83
 Iforas in the Sahara, 270, 271, 272, 273, 274, 276, 277, 278,
283, 287, 310, 324, 326
 Ihagareen, Tuareg chiefs, 271
 Illimane, Mount, 311
 Imbelram, wells of, 315
 Imrads among Tuaregs, 271
 Inifel, the wells of, 331, 332
 In Ouzel, well at, 285, 286, 287, 288, 289, 290, 294, 297
 Insalah, 249, 251, 269, 274, 275, 279, 315, 330, 331, 340
 Insects in the “bush,” 116
 Inundations of the Niger, 158, 190, 201, 220
 Inzize, 305
 Issa-Ber, River, 173, 176, 182, 184, 186, 190, 222
 Ivory Coast, 130
 Jilingé village, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102
 Joliba River, 36, 156
   meaning of the word, 36
 Jomongonas, 98, 99, 101
 “Juju” in West Africa, 29, 83, 87, 88
 Kaballa, in Sierra Leone, 47
 Kabara, port of Timbuctu, 173, 177, 220, 221, 223, 237
 Kadi, a native judge, 153
 Kamaraia, 54
 Kangaba, 90, 110, 111
 Kanioumé, 207
 Kankan, French Guinea, 70, 73, 74, 75, 103, 115, 131
 Kano, 192
 Kari-Déna, Tuareg chief, 272
 Kati Plateau, 118, 120, 124, 125
 Kayes, Senegal Colony, 129, 130, 150, 151
 Kerchouel, 254
 Kidal, 245, 246, 250, 251, 252, 254, 256, 266, 267, 268, 270,
274, 275, 276, 277, 281, 298, 326
 Kiénéfala, rapids on the Niger, 136, 137, 241
 Kissidougou, 52, 55
 Kissy carriers, 26
   mode of carrying, 27
   country, 32
   wars, 32
 Koh, in West Africa, 44, 45, 80, 106, 110, 184, 221, 240
 Kofung secret society, 44
 Kola nuts, 86, 87, 203
 Konakry, 63, 228
 Kondundu, Sierra Leone, 35
 Konnoh country and people, 32, 33
   bushcow in, 34
 Koran, use of in charms, 29
 Korankos, rites of, 43, 44, 45
 Korioumé, 223
 Koulikoro, on the Niger, 122, 127, 129, 133, 148, 150, 151,
195, 222
 Koulouba, 126, 127
 Kouroussa, 56, 60, 63, 64, 67, 68, 70, 73, 103
 Kruto, Sierra Leone, 43
 Ksour, Arabic village, 317, 320
 Kundema, Sierra Leone, 35
 Kurorua, lake of, 215, 216
 Kwarra, name for the Niger, 156
 Ladies, European, in West Africa, 55, 73, 120, 134, 222
 Laing, Major, 227
 Lake District of Middle Niger, 206, 207
 Langel, Lieutenant, 134
 Laperine, Colonel, 316, 317
 Launch, journey on, 141, 144
 Lenz, explorer, 228
 Leopard in Niger Valley, 83, 181
   raid by, 181
 Level, Mr., 150
 Limba natives, 44
 Lion in Niger Valley, 18, 83, 179, 187, 197, 198, 199
   cubs as pets, 165, 166
 Litham of Tuaregs, 270, 271, 312
 Macina Province, 131, 157, 159, 161, 243
 Madambougou, graves at, 138
 Mafindo, village of, 27
 Mafou River, game on, 56, 59, 60
 Mahomed, my guide, 269, 277, 282, 284, 286, 288, 289, 297, 298,
299, 304, 307, 308, 312, 313, 316, 326
 Maize in West Africa, 62, 111
 Maje, explorer, 139
 Malbranque, Mr., 176
 Malinké language and people, 18, 57, 64, 71
 Mamadu, my servant, 69, 70, 81, 89, 92, 93, 94, 96, 100, 102,
110, 112, 118, 185, 188, 189, 236
 Mandingoes, distribution of, 33, 67
 Mannagézé, 116
 Marabout, a Niger bird, 241
 Markets of French West Africa, 74, 112, 122, 130, 131, 192
 Marriage customs, Sierra Leone, 31
 Mauretania, 107, 144, 274
 Méhari, riding camel, 270, 324
 Méhariste, 322, 329, 331, 333
 Meli River, passage of, 32
 Mendi carriers, 26
   mode of carrying, 27
   paganism of, 29
   secret societies, 29
 Mendis, charms of, 29
 Meshoui, an Arab dish, 334
 Mesoued, for desert travel, 248, 313
 Millet-growing, 111, 158, 192, 202
 Milo River, 73, 76
 Mimosa trees, 163, 178, 204, 206, 246, 254, 266, 289, 290
 Moa River, Sierra Leone, 25
 Mohammedanism, progress of, 33, 109, 200
 Mopti, on the Niger, 123, 156, 157, 158 to 170, 171, 173,
175, 176
 Mopti, King of, 159, 160
 Monoroues, stern-wheelers, 142
 Moorish occupation, 224, 229, 230, 239
 Moors in Western Soudan, 74, 107, 108, 109, 131, 239, 244
 Morocco, 225, 227, 228, 325, 331
 Mosques, 230, 244
   at Djenné, 153
 Mosquitoes, 96
 Mossis, 192
 Mouyidir in the Sahara, 314, 315
 Musa, my Hausa cook, 236, 285, 287, 288, 289, 297, 304, 313,
316, 327, 328
 Musa-Benaïsch, 330
 Music of natives, 54
 Nafadié, 103
 Niafounké, 110, 141, 173, 177, 178, 179, 182, 185, 191, 222
 Niandan, River, 70, 71
 Niangaye, Lake, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 210, 215, 216, 218, 219
 Niansumana, 76
 Niéger, Captain, 322, 323
 Niger, Middle, 17, 67, 134, 157, 159, 171, 172, 179, 200, 219,
222, 229, 240, 244, 251, 276, 318, 328, 339
 Niger, navigation of, 70, 73, 122, 134, 135, 136
 Niger, sources of, 36, 46
 Upper, 17, 51, 56, 63, 70, 77, 89, 90, 92, 99, 100, 101, 103,
104, 105, 107, 109, 110, 111, 115, 118, 132, 135, 172, 244
 Niger Valley, 18, 327
 Nightjar, standard-winged, 41
 Night marching in the Sahara, 264, 300
 Nioro, Western Soudan, 140
 Oases of the Sahara, 268, 315, 316, 317, 328, 333, 334, 335,
336, 337, 340
 Obb, Commandant, 223
 Odienné, Ivory Coast, 82, 85
 Ophthalmia in the desert, 308
 Oribis, 60, 110
 Oriole, the golden, 39
 Ornaments, native, 77, 123
 Oryx, white (leucoryx), 265, 284
 Ostriches, 132, 182, 183, 218
 Ostrich farm, Middle Niger, 182, 183
 Othman, a guide, 297, 298, 312, 313, 316
 Ouargla oasis, 323, 332, 333, 334, 335
 Oued Mya, 332, 333, 340
 Oueds in the Sahara, 242, 265, 268, 274, 290, 328, 330
 Ouillimiden Tuaregs, 253, 272
 Oysters in Lake Dhebo, 173
 Palm-wine drinking, 50
 Pasturage in the Sahara, 253, 257, 260, 291, 320, 328, 330, 332
 Pelicans on Lake Niangaye, 218
 Pendembu railway terminus, 19, 22
   a night at, 26
 Pigeon, varieties of, 40, 148
 Plantain-eater, violet, 38
 Poro secret society, 29, 30, 31, 44
 Potters at work in the “Bend” of the Niger, 185
 Presents to natives, 97, 98
 Rahla, a riding saddle, 296
 Railway, Algerian, 311, 336, 337, 338, 339
 French Guinea, 63, 64, 130
 Oran, 323
 Senegal and Niger, 120, 129, 130, 133, 161
 Sierra Leone, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25
 Trans-Saharan, 339
 Rapids on the Niger, 136, 137, 241
 Reed-buck, Bohor, 221
 Réné Caillé, 141, 228
 Reservoir of Lake Dhebo, 172, 173
 Rice-growing, 111, 157, 192, 202, 243
   mill at Mopti, 161, 162
 Rio del Oro, 325
 Roads in French Guinea, 53, 54, 75, 107, 111
   in Sierra Leone, 35, 36
   in Western Soudan, 122, 161
 Rubber vine, 62, 74
   trade, 74, 75, 115
 Saddle of native horses, 188, 189
 Saddles, camel, 248, 275, 295, 296
 Sahara, edge of the, 178, 193, 242, 252, 256, 272, 290, 325
 Central, 266, 280, 310, 316, 317, 321, 325, 339
   journey across, 17, 248, 249, 307
   languages of the, 19
   vegetation of the, 290, 291, 292, 300, 331
 Salt caravans, 202, 230
   mines of the Sahara, 74, 307
 Salutations, native, 145
 Samory, King, 67, 68, 69, 91
 Sand-banks, 70, 145, 237
 -dunes, 239, 319, 331, 334
 -flies, 96, 149
 -grouse, 178, 218
 -storms in the desert, 288, 289, 302, 303, 306, 321
 Sankaran, plains of, 46, 48, 51
 Sankarani River, 78, 85, 90, 91, 95, 99, 101
 Sansanding, on the Niger, 151, 152, 153
 Saraféré, 173, 187, 191, 192, 193, 195, 197, 201, 203, 207
 Sarafinian, Customs post, 48
 Scorpion, incident at Bo with, 24
 Sébi, the haunt of lion, 187, 201
 Ségou, on the Niger, 149, 150, 151, 152
 Senafou, a native of, 90
 Senegal River, 74, 107, 110, 129, 132, 150, 233, 234
   navigation of, 129
   haartebeest, 204, 205, 206, 208
 Seriamou, 220
 Sétif, Algeria, 339
 Shea-butter tree, 116, 117
 Sheep of the Niger, 156, 180, 238
   of the Sahara, 256, 273, 289, 290
 Shi, tree of, 116
 Sibo, Niger Valley, 184
 Sierra Leone, Colony of, 17, 245
   railway of, 19
 Siguiri district, 75, 97, 101, 104, 111
 Sikasso, Upper Senegal and Niger Colony, 144, 159
 Sirocco, 230
 Slavery in French Guinea, 58
   among the Arabs, 327, 328
 Smuggling on Sierra Leone border, 48
 Sofas of King Samory, 67, 68, 92
 Sohré, caste of, 57
 Sokolo, Western Soudan, 140
 Sokrar, camel driver, 333
 Sonrhais of the Niger, 154, 186, 192, 221, 222, 227, 229, 236,
237, 238, 244, 272, 277
 Sotuba, rapids of, 137
 Spears as a native arm, 209, 271
 St. Louis, Senegal Colony, 129, 161
 Stone Age in the Sahara, 277
 Suk, a charm of the Mendis, 29
 Sun spectacles, use of, 267, 270, 271
 Susu native as my cook, 18
   people, 64
 Tademayt, plateau of, 330
 Tamanrasset, 325
 Tanezrouft of the Sahara, 245, 279, 287, 294, 297, 298, 299,
300, 301, 306, 310, 311, 315, 326, 327
 Tango-Maré, 219
 Taoundert, 285, 287
 Taudény, salt mines, 230, 240
 Tea, Arabic, 283
 Teal, 218, 240
   grey, 175, 190, 204
 Telegraph, electric, 239, 246
 Telegraphy, native, 76
 Telemsi, “Oued” or “Wad,” 242, 265
 Tell, the country of, 326
 Tellak, a camel dagger, 271
 Tellis, a camel bag, 319
 Temacheq, Tuareg language, 272, 313, 326
 Tembiko River, 36
 Tembikunda Mountains, 34, 42, 156, 172, 240, 241
 Tennis at Koulikoro, 135
 Tide on Lake Niangaye, 205
 Tidikelt, 315, 317
 Timbuctu, 17, 69, 110, 121, 125, 135, 141, 151, 164, 167, 176,
177, 179, 191, 195, 202, 217, 220, 222, 223, 243, 272
 Timissao, 297, 298, 299, 300
 Tindéran, wells of, 263, 264, 265
 Tinsida, in the “Bend” of the Niger, 216
 Tirailleurs, Senegalese, 251
 Tirik, Jibal el, 297
 Tit, Touat oasis, 322, 323
 Tobacco-growing in Western Soudan, 149
 Tobacco, its value to travellers, 28, 283
 Tombola, 104, 106, 109
 Tondibi, 243
 Tosaye, defile of, 241, 242, 243
 Touat oasis, 282, 322, 330, 340
 Touggourt, 323, 335, 336
 Trade in French West Africa 73, 74, 75, 108, 130, 161
 Trapping game in Guinea, 62
 Tribal marks, 90
 Tripoli, 228, 318, 331
 Trypansomiasis, 33, 140
 Tsetse fly, where met, 32, 140
 Tuaregs of the Sahara, 19, 192, 202, 219, 224, 229, 238, 240,
253, 263, 270, 271, 272, 273, 274, 275, 283, 287, 289, 310, 316,
325, 326
 Tunisia, 230, 340
 Tusks of elephants, 214
 Twins, custom of killing, 45
 Upper Senegal and Niger Colony, 110, 120
 Lieut. Governor of, 126, 127
 Vedette, a Niger launch, 142
 Villages, Fulani, 190, 191
 Wagadugu, town of, 192
 Wart-hog in French Soudan, 162, 163, 164, 167, 179, 184
 Wasulu country for sport, 56, 60, 75, 80, 82, 83, 84, 89, 90,
95, 96
 Waterbuck in the Niger Basin, 59, 81, 184
 Waterfowl on the Niger, 70, 148, 172, 174, 175, 184
 Water, means of transporting, 249, 250
 Water-skins in the desert, 249, 267, 273, 275, 294, 295, 308,
309, 316
 Wells in the Sahara, 225, 249, 250, 253, 254, 257, 263, 264,
267, 273, 274, 282, 284, 285, 297, 298, 299, 307, 315, 316, 331,
332, 333, 335, 340
 Wheat, African, 228, 234, 338
 White ants in Africa, 167, 168
 Widow weaver, a bird of West Africa, 41
 Winds of the Niger, 176
 Winds in the desert, 192
 Winds on Lake Niangaye, 205
 Wool-making on the Niger, 181
 Yakubu, a character at Timbuctu, 226, 227
 Yellimamis, caste of, 57
 Yonni tramway, 22
 Zaberma, 236
 Zariba for lion, 179
 Zinder, on the Niger, 253
 Zmeila, wells of, 333

[Illustration: MAP SHOWING THE ROUTE OF CAPTAIN HAYWOOD’S JOURNEY]

                              FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Major Laing’s grave has quite
recently been discovered, according to French reports, at a place