Part 18
Having waited a long time for Utaeti, we at length started without him, passing on our right a beautiful palm-grove, with as many as ten thousand trees, while our left was bordered by scattered gardens, where the people were busy in the cool of the morning irrigating the corn and vegetables, with the assistance of Sudán oxen. They came out to see us pass by, but without expressing any feeling, hostile or otherwise. After a mile and a half the plantation ceased, at the bed of a torrent which contained a pond of rain-water collected from the higher rocky ground, which here terminates. Further on we passed another small channel, overgrown with bushes, and remarkable for nothing but its name, which seems plainly to indicate that this country originally belonged to the Góber or Háusa nation, for it is still called Korámma, a word which in the Háusa language denotes the bed of a torrent. To this watercourse particularly, the general designation was most probably assigned because in its further progress it widens very considerably, and in some degree appears as the head of the green bottom of the Valley of Ghát.
But a more luxuriant valley, from three to four miles broad, begins further on, rich in herbage, and full of ethel-trees, all crowning the tops of small mounds. Here we encamped near a pond of dirty rain-water, frequented by great flocks of doves and water-fowl, and a well called Ízayen, in order to wait for Utaeti. The well was only about three feet deep, but the water brackish and disagreeable. Our friend came at length, and it was then decided to march during the night, in order to reach the Kél-owí; we therefore left our pleasant camping-ground about half-past nine in the evening, favoured by splendid moonlight. So interesting was the scene, that, absorbed in my thoughts, I got considerably in advance of the caravan, and, not observing a small path which turned off on the right, I followed the larger one till I became conscious of my solitary situation, and, dismounting, lay down in order to await my companions. Our caravan, however, had taken the other path, and my fellow-travellers grew rather anxious about me; but my camel, which was evidently aware of the caravan ahead of us, would not give up this direction, which proved to be the right one, and after I had joined the caravan we were obliged to return to my former path.
Here we found the small Kél-owí caravan encamped in the midst of a valley well-covered with herbage, near the well Karáda. Our new companions were perfect specimens of the mixed Berber and Sudán blood, and, notwithstanding all their faults, most useful as guides. It was two hours after midnight when we arrived; and after a short repose we started again tolerably early the next morning.
For the first hour we kept along the valley, when we began to ascend a narrow path winding round the slope of a steep promontory of the plateau. The ruins of a castle at the bottom of the valley formed an object of attraction.
The ascent took us almost an hour, when the defile opened to a sort of plateau with higher ground and cones to the left. After another ascent four miles further on, over a rocky slope about 180 ft. high and covered with sand, we encamped at an early hour, as the heat was beginning to be felt, in a valley with sidr-trees and grass, called Erázar-n-Ákeru.
A large basin of water, formed by the rains in a small rocky lateral glen joining the large valley on the west side, afforded a delightful resting-place to the weary traveller. The basin, in which the negro slaves of our Kél-owí swam about with immense delight, was about 200 ft. long and 120 ft. broad, and very deep, having been hollowed out in the rocks by the violent floods descending occasionally from the heights above. But on a terrace about 200 ft. higher up the cliffs, I discovered another basin of not more than about half the diameter of the former, but likewise of great depth. All along the rocky slope between these two basins, cascades are formed during heavy rains, which must render this a delightfully refreshing spot.
[Sidenote: Sunday, July 28th.]
We soon emerged from the valley, and entered a district of very irregular character, but affording herbage enough for temporary settlements or encampments of the Imghád, whose asses and goats testified that the country was not quite uninhabited. Some people of our caravan saw the guardians of these animals,—negroes, clad in leather aprons. Against the lower part of the cliffs, which rise abruptly on all sides, large masses of sand have accumulated, which, as in the case of the upper valley of the Nile, might induce the observer to believe that all the higher level was covered with sand, which from thence had been driven down; but this is not by any means the case.
I had a long conversation this morning with the Tawáti ʿAbd el Káder, who had come with the pilgrim-caravan as far as Ghát, and, together with another companion, had attached himself to the Kél-owí, in order to go to Ágades. He was a smart fellow, of light complexion and handsome countenance, but had lost one eye in a quarrel. He was armed with a long gun with a good English lock, of which he was very proud. He had, when young, seen the Raïs (Major Laing) at Tawát, and knew something about Europeans, and chiefly Englishmen. Smart and active as this fellow was, he was so ungallant as to oblige his young female slave, who was at once his mistress, cook, and servant, to walk the whole day on foot, while he generally rode.
A little after noon we encamped in the corner of a valley rich in sebót, and adorned with some talha-trees, at the foot of cliffs of considerable height, which were to be ascended the following day.
[Sidenote: Monday, July 29th.]
We began our task early in the morning. The path, winding along through loose blocks on a precipitous ascent, proved very difficult. Several loads were thrown off the camels; and the boat several times came into collision with the rocks, which, but for its excellent material, might have damaged it considerably. The whole of the cliffs consisted of red sandstone, which was now and then interrupted by clay slate, of a greenish colour. The ascent took us almost two hours; and from the level of the plateau we obtained a view of the ridge stretching towards Arikím, the passage of which was said to be still more difficult. Having successively ascended and descended a little, we then entered a tolerably-regular valley, and followed its windings till about noon, when we once more emerged upon the rugged rocky level, where Amankay, the well-travelled búzu or mulatto of Tasáwa, brought us a draught of deliciously cool water, which he had found in a hollow in the rocks. Here our route meandered in a very remarkable way, so that I could not lay aside my compass for a moment; and the path was sometimes reduced to a narrow crevice between curiously-terraced buttresses of rocks.
The ground having at length become more open, we encamped about a quarter past three o’clock in a small ravine with a little sprinkling of herbage.
[Illustration]
Here we had reached an elevation of not less than 4000 feet above the sea,—the greatest elevation of the desert to be passed, or rather of that part of Africa over which our travels extended. The rugged and bristling nature of this elevated tract prevented our obtaining any extensive views. This region, if it were not the wildest and most rugged of the whole desert, limiting vegetation to only a few narrow crevices and valleys, would be a very healthy and agreeable abode for man; but it can only support a few nomadic stragglers. This, I am convinced, is the famous mountain Tántanah, the abode of the Azkár[85] mentioned by the early Arabic geographers, although, instead of placing it to the south- west of Fezzán, they generally give it a southerly direction. I am not aware that a general name is now given to this region.
But this highest part of the table-land rather forms a narrow “col” or crest, from which, on the following morning, after a winding march of a little more than three miles, we began to descend by a most picturesque passage into a deeper region. At first we saw nothing but high cones towering over a hollow in the ground; but as we advanced along a lateral wadi of the valley which we had entered, the scenery assumed a grander aspect, exhibiting features of such variety as we had not expected to find in this desert country. While our camels began slowly to descend, one by one, the difficult passage, I sat down and made the accompanying sketch of it, which will convey a better idea of this abrupt cessation of the high sandstone level, with the sloping strata of marl where it is succeeded by another formation—that of granite, than any verbal description would do.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
ÉGERI.
July 29th. 1850.]
The descent took us two hours, when we reached the bottom of a narrow ravine about sixty feet broad, which at first was strewn with large blocks carried down by occasional floods, but a little further on, had a floor of fine sand and gravel. Here the valley is joined by a branch wadi, or another ravine, coming from the north. Near the junction it is tolerably wide; but a few hundred yards further on, it narrows between steep precipitous cliffs looking almost like walls erected by the hand of man, and more than a thousand feet high, and forms there a pond of rain-water. While I was sketching this remarkable place, I lost the opportunity of climbing up the wild ravine. The locality was so interesting that I reluctantly took leave of it, fully intending to return the following day with the camels when they were to be watered; but, unfortunately, the alarming news which reached us at our camping- ground prevented my doing so. I will only observe that this valley,
which is generally called Égeri, is identical with the celebrated valley Amaïs or Maïs, the name of which became known in Europe many years ago.
[Illustration]
A little beyond the junction of the branch ravine the valley widens to about one hundred and fifty feet, and becomes overgrown with herbage, and ornamented with a few talha-trees, and after being joined by another ravine exhibits also colocynths, and low but wide-spreading ethel- bushes, and, what was more interesting to us, the ʿashur (or, as the Háusa people call it, “tunfáfia,” the Kanori “krunka,” the Tawárek “tursha”), the celebrated, wide-spread, and most important _Asclepias gigantea_, which had here truly gigantic proportions, reaching to the height of twenty feet; and being just then in flower, with its white and violet colours it contributed much to the interest of the scene. Besides, there was the jadaríyeh, well known to us from the Hammáda, and the shiʿa or _Artemisia odoratissima_, and a blue crucifera identical, I think, with the damankádda, of which I shall have to speak repeatedly.
Having gone on a little more than three miles from the watering-place, we encamped; and the whole expedition found ample room under the wide- spreading branches of a single ethel-tree, the largest we had yet seen. Here the valley was about half a mile broad, and altogether had a very pleasant character.
I was greatly mortified on reflecting that the uncertainty of our relations in the country, and the precarious protection we enjoyed, would not allow me to visit Jánet, the most favoured spot in this mountainous region; but a great danger was suddenly announced to us, which threatened even to drive us from that attractive spot. An expedition had been prepared against us by the mighty chieftain Sídi[86] Jáfel ínek (son of) Sakertáf, to whom a great number of the Imghád settled thereabouts are subject as bondmen or serfs.
Upon the circumstances of this announcement and its consequences, which have been fully detailed by the late Mr. Richardson, I shall not dwell, but will only observe that this transaction made us better acquainted with the character of each of our new friends. There were three principal men in the Kél-owí caravan with which we had associated our fortunes, Ánnur (or properly E’ Núr), Dídi, and Fárreji. Ánnur was a relative of the powerful Kél-owí chief of the same name, and, in order to distinguish him from the latter, was generally called Ánnur karamí, or the little Ánnur. He was of agreeable prepossessing countenance and of pleasing manners, but without much energy, and anything but warlike. Dídi and Fárreji were both liberated slaves, but of very different appearance and character. The former was slim, with marked features indicating a good deal of cunning; the latter was a tolerably large man, with broad coarse features which well expressed his character, the distinguishing trait of which was undisguised malice. When a new demand was to be put forth, Fárreji took the lead, and, with an impudent air, plainly stated the case; Dídi kept back, assisting his companion underhand; and Ánnur was anxious to give to the whole a better appearance and to soothe our indignation.
The whole affair having been arranged, and the stipulation being made, that in case the direct road should become impracticable our Kél-owí were to lead us by a more eastern one, where we should not meet with anyone, we started in good spirits on the morning of the 1st of August, and soon emerged from the valley by a southern branch, while the surrounding cliffs gradually became much lower and flatter. Here we observed that granite had superseded the sandstone, appearing first in low bristled ridges crossing the bottom of the valley in parallel lines running from W.N.W. to E.S.E., and gradually occupying the whole district, while the sand, which before formed the general substance of the lower ground, was succeeded by gravel. Our path now wound through irregular defiles and small plains enclosed by low ridges of granite blocks, generally bare, but in some places adorned with talha-trees of fine fresh foliage. The whole country assumed quite a different aspect.
Our day’s journey was pleasantly varied by our meeting with the van of a large caravan belonging to the wealthy Fezzáni merchant Khuëldi, which had separated in Aïr on account of the high prices of provisions there. They carried with them from forty to fifty slaves, most of them females, the greater part tolerably well-made. Each of our Kél-owí produced from his provision-bags a measure of dates, and threw them into a cloth, which the leader of the caravan, a man of grave and honest countenance, had spread on the ground. A little before noon, we encamped in a sort of wide but shallow valley called Ejénjer, where, owing to the junction of several smaller branch-vales collecting the moisture of a large district, a little sprinkling of herbage was produced, and a necessary halting-place formed for the caravans coming from the north, before they enter upon the naked desert, which stretches out towards the south-west for several days’ journey. The camels were left grazing the whole night, in order to pick up as large a provision as possible from the scanty pasture.
[Sidenote: August 2nd.]
We entered upon the first regular day’s march since we left Ghát. After a stretch of nine miles, an interesting peak called Mount Tiska, rising to an elevation of about 600 feet, and surrounded by some smaller cones, formed the conspicuous limit of the rocky ridges. The country became entirely flat and level, but with a gradual ascent, the whole ground being formed of coarse gravel; and there was nothing to interrupt the monotonous plain but a steep ridge, called Mariaw, at the distance of about five miles to the east.
[Illustration]
The nature of this desert region is well understood by the nomadic Tawárek or Imóshagh, who regard the Mariaw as the landmark of the open uninterrupted desert-plain, the “ténere;” and a remarkable song of theirs, which often raised the enthusiasm of our companions, begins thus:—
“Mariaw da ténere nís” (We have reached Mariaw and the desert-plain).
The aspect of this uninterrupted plain seemed to inspire our companions; and with renewed energy we pursued our dreary path till after sunset, when we encamped upon this bare gravelly plain, entirely destitute of herbage, and without the smallest fragment of wood for fuel; and I was glad to get a cup of tea with my cold supper of zummíta. Even in these hot regions the European requires some warm food or beverage.
The next morning, all the people being eager to get away from this dreary spot, every small party started as it got ready, without waiting for the rest, in order to reach as soon as possible the region of the sand-hills, which we saw before us at the distance of a little more than five miles, and which promised to the famished camels at least a slight repast. Herbage was scattered in bunches all about the sides of the sand-hills; and a number of butter- and dragon-flies greatly relieved the dreary scene. After a while the sand-hills ranged themselves more on both sides, while our road led over harder sandy soil, till the highest range crossed our path, and we began to ascend it, winding along its lower parts. Granite, lying a few feet under the surface, in several spots chequered the sand, tinged with a pretty blue.
A little after mid-day we emerged from the sand-hills, and entered a plain from two to three miles wide, bounded on both sides by sand-hills, and were here gratified with the view of shifting lakes which the mirage set before our eyes. Then followed another narrow range of sand-hills, succeeded by a barren open plain, and then another very considerable bank of sand, leaning on a granite ridge. After a steep ascent of forty- five minutes, we reached the highest crest, and obtained an extensive prospect over the country before us—a desert-plain interspersed by smaller sand-hills and naked ledges of rock, and speckled with ethel- bushes half overwhelmed by sand, at the foot of a higher range of sand- hills. For sand-hills are the landmark of Afalésselez; and the verse of the desert-song celebrating Mariaw as the landmark of the open gravelly desert plain, is succeeded by another celebrating the arrival at Afalésselez and its sand-hills:—
“In-Afalésselez da jéde nís.”
Having long looked down from this barbican of sand, to see whether all was safe near that important place whence we were to take our supply for the next stretch of dry desert land, we descended along the south- western slope, and there encamped.
After a march of little more than four miles the next morning, we reached the well Falésselez, or Afalésselez. This camping-ground had not a bit of shade; for the few ethel-bushes, all of them starting forth from mounds of not less than forty feet elevation, were very low, and almost covered with sand. Besides, the gravelly ground was covered with camels’ dung, and impurities of a more disagreeable nature; and there was not a bit of herbage in the neighbourhood, so that the camels, after having been watered, had to be driven to a distance of more than eight miles, where they remained during the night and the following day till noon, and whence they brought back a supply of herbage for the next night.
But, notwithstanding its extraordinary dreariness, this place is of the greatest importance for the caravan-trade, on account of the well, which affords a good supply of very tolerable water. At first it was very dirty and discoloured; but it gradually became clearer, and had but little after-taste. The well was five fathoms deep, and not more than a foot and a half wide at the top, while lower down it widened considerably. It is formed of the wood of the ethel-tree. The temperature of the water, giving very nearly the mean temperature of the atmosphere in this region, was 77°.
After the camels had gone, our encampment became very lonely and desolate, and nothing was heard but the sound of ghussub-pounding. The Kél-owí had encamped at some distance, on the slope of the sand-hills. It was a very sultry day—the hottest day in this first part of our journey,—the thermometer, in the very best shade which we were able to obtain, showing 111°·2 heat, which, combined with the dreary monotony of the place, was quite exhausting. There was not a breath of air in the morning; nevertheless it was just here that we remarked the first signs of our approaching the tropical regions, for in the afternoon the sky became so thickly overcast with clouds, that we entertained the hope of being refreshed by a few drops of rain. In the night a heavy gale blew from the east.
Next day came Utaeti. On his fine méheri, enveloped as he was in his blue Sudán-cloth, he made a good figure. The reply which he made, when Mr. Richardson asked him how his father had received the present of the sword which H.B.M.’s Government had sent him, was characteristic: the sword, he said, was a small present, and his father had expected to receive a considerable sum of money into the bargain. He informed us also that, by our not coming to Arikím, we had greatly disappointed the Tawárek settled thereabouts.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, August 6th.]
The sand-hills which we ascended after starting were not very high; but after a while we had to another ascent. Sometimes small ridges of quartzose sandstone, setting right across our path, at others ethel- bushes, gave a little variety to the waste; and at the distance of about eight miles from the well, singularly-shaped conical mounts began to rise. The eastern road, which is a little more circuitous, is but a few hours’ distance from this; it leads through a valley at the foot of a high conical mount, with temporary ponds of rain-water, and herbage called Shambakésa, which about noon we passed at some distance on our left.
In the afternoon we came in sight of a continuous range of heights ahead of us. The whole region exhibited an interesting intermixture of granite and sandstone formation, white and red sandstone protruding in several places, and the ground being strewn with fragments of granite and gneiss. Passing at one time over gravel, at another over rocky ground strewn with pebbles, we encamped at length in a sort of shallow valley called Taghárebén, on the north side of a very remarkable mass of curiously-shaped sandstone blocks, heaped together in the most singular manner, and rising altogether to a height of about 150 feet. On inspecting it more closely, I found that it consisted of four distinct buttresses, between which large masses of loose sand had collected, the sandstone being of a beautiful white colour, and in a state of the utmost disintegration.