CHAPTER XIX
Loading a camel — Water vessels — My camels — My caravan — Nomads of the Sahara — Vegetation of the desert — Country of the Kountahs — Line of wells — Rainfall — My tent — Gazelle — Fowls of the desert — A trying march — Ill-used animals — How to mount a camel — Moroseness of the camel — Vagaries of the camel — An unpleasant feature — Uncomfortable riding.
THE preparations to be made for a journey across the Sahara are many, as I soon found out at Gao. It was not merely a question of arranging for the hire of camels and the services of a guide, but various other points wanted careful attention.
To start with, the baggage had to be made up in loads suitable for camel transport, and, naturally, on a pack animal a far more accurate adjustment of weights is necessary than is the case with carriers. Besides, I found that cases of provisions, my tin travelling bath, and even my camp table (Uganda pattern), were the reverse of being comfortable loads on the desert camel, although they had been very compact for transport on porters’ heads. All these things had to be either left behind or put into leathern bags, called “mesoued.” A bag is quite the easiest form of baggage for a camel to carry. Two of these can be slung over the pack-saddle, and the weights easily adjusted by taking something out of the heavier and adding it to the lighter one. No ropes are necessary to tie a “mesoued” on to the saddle, while boxes and such-like loads have to be strapped round with cords, and tied on to hooks on the pack-saddle. These ropes, however strong, break sooner or later, with the result that your cases fall with a crash to the ground and the contents are probably scattered in all directions.
As this was my first experience of the desert I had to learn all these little points, but, fortunately for me, my French friends helped me with much practical advice, making my task much easier. I had to retain some of my cases, however, as sufficient bags were not forthcoming, and I rather unwisely decided to retain my bath. Although water would be scarce on the way, I could not help thinking that the luxury of a bath when I did arrive at a well would be too great to forego!
I replenished my stock of rice so as to have sufficient to ration my servant and guide, and at the same time I carefully overhauled my tinned provisions. My supply of the latter was decidedly low, but there were no means of increasing it now; besides, I had made up my mind to live on the simplest fare, such as farinaceous food, in order not to augment unduly the number of camels in my caravan by having too many loads. I had, however, to arrange for sufficient rations to last till my arrival at Insalah, in about seven weeks’ time. I was informed that at the oasis of Insalah I should be able to reprovision myself for the remainder of the desert journey.
Another most important item for consideration was the means for carrying water. Big glass demijohns are impracticable in the desert. They make the water hot, and are extremely likely to break, should a camel drop its load, or even if the beast should knock up against one of his fellows, in his usual clumsy manner. The French use two kinds of water-carriers. The one mostly used, and invariably used by the nomads of the desert, is a leather water-skin, called “guerba,” which is generally porous, and therefore leaks to a certain extent, but keeps the water cool, and is easily slung on a camel’s back.
The other kind is an iron or aluminium cylindrical vessel, which can be locked if necessary, and cannot break. The water therein contained gets very hot, but is never wasted as in a “guerba.” I was obliged to take “guerbas,” as no metal carriers were available. And I provided myself with eight of these.
In connection with the subject of water, which is, indeed, the vital item in desert marches, I had to arrange to have some means of drawing water from a well. This is a more serious problem than may be thought, for wells in the Sahara are often seventy yards or more deep. In one case I recollect there was a well over 330 feet deep! To draw water from such a depth a long rope of hide is required, at the end of which is attached a leather bucket, called “délou.” Spare material of all kinds must be carried, as a caravan must be absolutely self-contained from start to finish, and any omissions in calculating requisite stores are likely to be heavily paid for in the desert.
All gear has to be thoroughly tested as to its strength and durability before embarking on a journey, and this is a matter to be attended to personally, for a native cannot be trusted.
Of course, two most important items are the camels and the guide. My animals belonged to the Kountah Arabs, who wander in that part of the Sahara north of Gao, while the guide was also a Kountah Arab, named Sidi Mahomed. I had a second guide for the journey as far as Kidal, a Tuareg, from the Ifora country, through which I should pass.
The camels were rather a sorry-looking lot of animals, whose aspect was not reassuring to a person about to start on a long desert march, but the Kountah chief, from whom I hired them, vouched for their ability to take me and my belongings safely to Kidal. I had no intention of keeping these camels or the guides beyond Kidal, but would hire a fresh caravan there. The Commandant kindly helped in this matter by sending a camel-runner in advance to the officer commanding the post at Kidal, to prepare camels and a guide for me. These camel-couriers travel much faster than a caravan. We calculated to take twelve days over the journey, whereas he would accomplish it in five or six. The courier’s mount is a fast-trotting camel, which at a pinch can cover about fifty miles a day.
The Departure from Gao
The loads are being adjusted before my caravan starts on its long trek across the Sahara. All baggage has to be securely bound with rope to the pack-saddle, as the camel has a playful way of ridding himself of a load by shaking his unwieldy frame, by kicking violently with his grotesque hind-legs, or by rubbing the offending package vigorously against a neighbour’s flanks until he succeeds in dislodging it.
On the 23rd of April all was ready, and I decided to start that afternoon, so as to avoid marching in the day when it was hot. As I gazed for the last time at the broad, calm bosom of the Niger, flowing gently by the walls of Gao on its way to the sea, I could not help feeling rather serious, and wondering when I should again see running water, if, indeed, ever. Before me was the unknown mystery of the great Sahara Desert, and in it I was to pass many long and weary days before I should arrive in a country watered by running streams. How often should I not long for a glimpse of the cool, rippling river I was now looking on for the last time! For days I must be content with the sight of a well, if I was to see any water at all; and, at the time, I hardly realized how welcome the sight of that well would be. About 4 p.m., as the sun was losing its power, having bidden adieu to my good hosts at Gao, I prepared to start.
All the Europeans at the station were assembled to see me off. I fully believe most of them thought I should never reach my destination. I promised the Commandant to write to him as soon as I reached Insalah to announce my safe arrival so far. There were many cameras raised to get a snapshot of my party before their departure, and then we were off.
My escort consisted of one non-commissioned officer and six soldiers, all natives, belonging to the Senegalese Tirailleurs. I had one riding-camel for myself and four baggage camels, one of the latter being lightly laden, and carrying my servant for a portion of the day’s march. The remaining camels, numbering eighteen, were carrying Government stores for Kidal. I waited behind to allow the string of camels to file off in front of me before mounting my own animal, and following in their wake.
I intended to march till sunset that evening, and then halt for a few hours’ rest until the moon got up. As soon as the moon rose I would start again, and march till eight or nine the following morning. I was anxious to march as little as possible during the day because of the intense heat. Besides, most of the tirailleurs were on foot, and night marching would be less fatiguing for them. The predominant question of water also had to be thought of, as a man wants to drink less if halted in the heat than if he is marching at that time.
The southern portion of the Sahara about Gao is desert in the sense of being a deserted land, that is to say a land without any fixed inhabitants. There are comparatively few parts of the Sahara which are absolutely deserted by mankind, for almost the whole of this lonely region has a population of nomads. These nomads, it is true, are very few in numbers, and rarely stay in one spot for any length of time. Their movements are dictated by two things. Firstly, the state of the pasturage in the locality where they are is an all-important factor. Nomads of the desert must of necessity be mounted on camels, chiefly, if not entirely, for they are the only animals adapted to an existence which entails long periods without water. But camels, like other animals, must feed fairly regularly, although they can live some time without drinking, hence the necessity for these nomads to have pasturage for their beasts. The nomad then remains in a certain locality in the desert for as long as there is food for his camels; he then moves on to a fresh spot with suitable feeding for his camels. To a large extent the proximity and quality of the water in the nearest wells are of minor importance to the question of a good pasturage. The desert nomad has perforce to be a hardy creature or he would very soon die of starvation or thirst. His wants in the way of food are small and easily satisfied, while he trains himself to exist, like his camel, on little water. To a large extent he suits his life and movements to the welfare of his beast.
Now, although the southern portion of the Central Sahara is a deserted country, the greater part of the section inhabited by the Kountah Arabs and the Ouilli-miden Tuaregs, viz. from the latitude of Bourem to the latitude of Zinder, is comparatively fertile in a certain kind of vegetation. This vegetation is of a peculiar kind, but includes the mimosa shrub and cram-cram grass, besides other things the camel likes to feed on. There is comparatively little space with no vegetation of some kind growing upon it. Water is scarce everywhere, and is only found in wells, but it is rare that one has to march more than sixty miles without passing a well.
For the first nine days my route lay through the country of the Kountahs. We seldom met any people, however. Occasionally, at a well, one would come across a few men drawing water, which they would load up on camels, or sometimes on donkeys, and thus transport it to their encampment, which was probably some miles distant, and generally far away from the possible tracks of a passing caravan. I suppose the mere fact of a man electing to pass his life in the Sahara is a sufficient indication that, for some reason or other, he wishes to shun other mortals as much as possible. His motive may be a criminal one, or merely the desire for a hermit existence; whichever it is, in the case of these people, there is no doubt that they have a decided reluctance to coming into contact with strangers, unless for purposes of loot!
The route I had taken was not the shortest one to Kidal. My quickest way would have been through Kerchouel, a well almost due north of Gao, and to the east of my direction, but the guide said that this line of wells via Kerchouel was in a bad state. According to him several of the wells were dry, or had so little water as to be insufficient for even our small caravan. I afterwards discovered that the man was lying, and, for private reasons, did not wish to go by Kerchouel, for the wells there were no drier than were those on our route. It so happened that this particular year had been a drier one than usual, and all the wells were in a lower condition than usual for the time of year.
In this portion of the Sahara there is a periodical rainfall, which, of course, accounts for the vegetation being less poor than elsewhere. The rainfall consists of some three or four tornadoes, averaging possibly one or two inches in the year. These tornadoes come between the months of July and September, and it is due to them that the wells fill up. Sometimes a well, or line of wells in an “oued,” fill up when there is apparently no rain that year, but this is to be attributed to the fact that rain has fallen in some far-off locality—possibly at a distance of a hundred miles—and, by some curious subterranean system, there is a connection between the spot where the rain has fallen and the particular “oued” in which the wells are situated. The whole question of where the water originates which fills up certain wells in the Sahara is a complicated and interesting one. Until all the desert has been thoroughly surveyed it will be difficult to do more than guess at the solution of some of these problems.
One article of baggage which I had brought, and which I thought would be of the greatest value in the Sahara, was my tent. When halting during the middle of the day the heat was intense. Shade was scarce, for the mimosas, the nearest approach to trees, were at the best stunted shrubs, affording little shade. My tent, however, consisting as it did of a single fly, seemed to retain the heat to a great extent, although, of course, it afforded some welcome shade. I found the hours from 11 a.m. till 3 p.m. most trying. It was so hot that it was difficult to work, yet it was much too hot to sleep. I always welcomed the hour for the evening departure. Marching was certainly cooler than halting, and often it was less tiring.
A Tuareg Herd, In Ouzel
The last signs of life before entering the waterless desert of Tanezrouft.
I usually rode for the first two hours, and about sunset dismounted to rest my camel and to stretch my legs. If it was a moonlight night I used to walk for several hours, but on a dark night walking was not so pleasant. The country about here was usually open, and it was possible to march, even on a moonless night, without fear of the camels coming to grief.
It was a strange place this desert, and gave me a queer, eerie feeling. On all sides a death-like stillness prevailed; for hours, and sometimes for days, we would walk without seeing a single soul. For miles there would be no signs of animal life, then suddenly a herd of gazelle would come into view, feeding on the desert, scrubby grass, and at the sight of the caravan away they would scamper, frightened at the unwonted sight of man.
In this part of the Sahara there were a fair number of Loder’s gazelle. This creature can live without water, and its habitat is always a desert country. It obtains a certain amount of moisture from the sap in certain plants and grasses, which appears to amply suffice for the little animal. The gazelle is a very pale, creamy buff colour, almost white under the belly, and stands twenty-eight inches high. It is extremely graceful, like most gazelle, and almost invariably starts its flight, when disturbed, by a series of big bounds, wherewith to gain impetus. I generally saw about six in a herd, but sometimes I have known them to include as many as twenty. The venison formed an excellent change from ordinary diet, and was, of course, the only chance of getting fresh meat in the desert. The nomads, whom we occasionally met near a well, had flocks of goats and sheep, but would not sell their animals for untold quantities of “guinée.”
Quite in the southernmost parts of the Sahara, within thirty or forty miles of the Niger, I saw a few greater bustard, and at times, when near a well, I have even seen guinea-fowl several days’ march from the river. As there was no running water for them to drink at, I can only conclude that these birds used to go down the wells to drink. In the same way I saw ringdoves near wells once or twice, far in the interior of the Sahara, and have often watched them emerging from the well after having drunk. These doves, too, appear to be of a far lighter colour than the ordinary grey dove of West Africa and the Niger. The hue is a very pale slaty grey, so pale as to be almost white. In this connection it is strange to note how pale is the colour of every Saharan animal, for it seems to conform to the usual law of nature in assimilating its colouring to its surroundings, so that it is frequently very difficult to detect an animal against the white Saharan sand. The soil is, however, by no means altogether sandy. In parts of the desert here the landscape varied a good deal. After marching through many miles of sandy soil with the typical desert scrub, the scene would gradually change. Isolated hills, standing 200 feet above the plain, would appear. These hills were formations of ferruginous rock, covered with boulders, but devoid of vegetation. The ground here used to be strewn with a layer of shale, presumably broken off in a kind of flakes from the hills by the heat of the sun, and scattered over the surface by the desert winds.
I recollect one of the most trying marches on the way to Kidal was the day we arrived at the Well of Agamhor. We had been two days on the march since the last well, and, by the guide’s information and by my rough calculations, we should arrive at the well by 10 or 11 a.m. As there was no suitable place to camp for the day and get a little shade, at 9 a.m., contrary to my usual practice, I decided to push on to the well and march, if necessary, till eleven. It was one of the hottest days we had experienced, and we were marching over a rocky ridge, which radiated the heat with intense fierceness. I was rather exhausted, too, as I had had a long stalk that morning after some white oryx, before I had managed to shoot one. We trudged steadily on till long after eleven, and still there was no sign of the well. The guide then began to urge that we should halt, saying the well was still far away and we could not reach it till 3 p.m. The men and camels were fatigued and hot, so I decided to halt. Until 4 p.m. we lay gasping on the rocky, burning ground, vainly trying to get some shade. It was not possible to pitch my tent, as the soil was too hard, so I followed the men’s example by lying on the shady side of two or three articles of baggage. The sun was pitiless, there was no pasturage for the camels in that barren spot, and we were all thankful to start once more late in the afternoon. We did not arrive at the well till nearly eleven o’clock that night, when both men and beasts threw themselves down exhausted, glad to stop where they lay till morning-time.
The camels after this march began to show signs of fatigue; several, too, had got terribly sore backs. These sore backs had not altogether developed on the march, for I had noticed them suffering from barely healed wounds before we left Gao. I had been assured, however, that it was very rare to get a hired camel without a tender place on his back, so there seemed to be nothing to do but accept the situation. I used to dress their wounds daily with iodoform and cotton-wool, but it was almost as painful to me to see them loaded as it must have been to themselves. I lightened the loads as much as possible, but most of my kit had to be carried if I hoped ever to reach the other side of the Sahara, so I had to harden my heart and ignore the pain they must have sometimes endured. The Bambara soldiers, when charging a camel, are quite callous. But they do not, and I suppose never will, understand the beast. Being negroes, they are totally unconscious of the pain animals can suffer. Of course, it must be said that they are not natives of a camel country, and so are handicapped by a lack of knowledge of the beast, when they are enlisted in camel corps. I think they never quite appreciate the necessity for giving the camel a regular number of hours daily in a pasturage whenever it is possible, and they certainly are not as careful about watering him as are the nomads of the desert, who are brought up from their childhood to look after camels.
The camel is a curious-tempered animal. He seems to have the same characteristic as most desert nomads. He dislikes mankind cordially, and takes no pains to disguise the fact.
To mount a camel he must be made first to squat on the ground. This is accomplished at the expense of some time and temper, by pulling his head towards the ground by means of the string in his nostril and ejaculating frequently a soothing noise similar to what is used by a nurse when she tries to induce a baby to go to sleep. The camel at last obeys, with many grunts and “protests.” The next operation is to mount. The first point is to seize the rein in your right hand and place this hand on the front of the saddle. At the same time you must seize the camel’s nostril in your left hand, turning his head inwards until the nose nearly reaches the front of the saddle. Every movement on your part will call forth numerous deep growls of protest, but one soon gets accustomed to this, and takes no notice of it. When, however, you seize the nostril and pull his head round he will roar as if he were being tortured to death. It is advisable to place the left foot on the slack part of the rein on the ground, or he may take you by surprise and suddenly jump up.
The Wells of Tabankhor
The difficulty of discerning a well in the Sahara, until one is actually within a few paces of it, is here clearly indicated. The well is rarely marked by any distinctive features, such as trees, vegetation, or any particular accident in the ground. It is merely a hole excavated in the sand, which can only too easily be missed by the traveller, possibly with serious consequences should he be short of water. The donkeys and bullock in the illustration belonged to Kountah Arabs in the Southern Sahara, and on the right are seen water-skins just filled from the well ready to be laden on the beasts for transport to the Arab encampment in the desert hard by.
A Snapshot of the “King of Beasts” amid his Natural Surroundings
This was a lucky snapshot of a lion going to drink, on a branch of the Middle Niger. Having news of a “kill,” I managed during the day to get into a concealed position near his lair. Fortune favoured me when the lion emerged from his resting-place, passing within a few paces of me on his way to the water.
Having successfully accomplished all these manœuvres, you should rapidly throw the right leg over the saddle, lifting the left foot from the rein and placing it on] his neck. The camel will then generally—but not always— rise with a most disconcerting jerk, growling loudly all the while. This is perhaps the most awkward, and even dangerous, moment for the unwary novice. On rising the camel first throws his head and body forward and then backward with lightning-like rapidity, when the rider must conform by equally rapidly jerking his own body in the inverse directions, otherwise he will inevitably lose his balance and be hurled on the ground. The Saharan camel is not a well-trained animal, so it behoves one to be careful when first attempting to mount an unknown beast.
After having mounted the rider will not persuade him to cease his angry grumbles for some little time. If he refuses to rise, as he sometimes does, the only plan is to tap more or less violently with the feet on his neck; but in every case the golden rule is to have patience, for of all the brutes in creation which have been tamed to do man’s will, the camel is surely the most trying. I have sometimes spent ten minutes in endeavouring to make a camel rise, when I was in a particular hurry to be off. Beating is quite ineffectual, and only serves to humble one’s pride. A camel’s hide is pretty tough, and he cares little for the blow from a thick stick or whip.
The camel never seems really happy unless he is absolutely left to himself. Far away from mankind, and unobserved, he eats and eats till he is gorged, and then lies down to sleep. If man is at hand he will never eat as well as when by himself; the presence of a human being seems to have a strange effect on him. This has been often proved by noticing the difference between camels left at their pasturage in perfect liberty and those which are guarded by men while feeding. The former regain condition comparatively quickly, while the latter, besides taking longer, will probably never return to such good form as their more fortunately placed brothers who are grazing quite at liberty. When near a man he constantly seems to sulk and not to make the best of himself. I have known camels in the Sahara, who had not had anything to eat for several days, refuse their food after being ill-treated, seemingly preferring to die than to accept any favour from the person who has beaten them.
Although camels can go several days without water, yet, when they do drink, they are gluttons for it. They drink an abnormally large quantity at a time, and will return to drink two or three times in the day until satisfied. Camels suffer a good deal from indigestion, and this is probably due to the huge quantities of food and water they consume.
It was the custom to hobble our animals at night, and I recollect how on one occasion on this march to Kidal, my plans for the next day’s journey were upset by a freak on their part. We halted one night, rather tired after a long march, about eleven o’clock. The road was rough, as we had entered into a mountainous, rocky country, and it was impossible to move any further until the sun rose, the moon having just set. It so happened that there was an excellent pasturage in an “oued” close by, and into this the camels were turned after being hobbled for the night.
I awoke next morning at daybreak to find all except four of the brutes had disappeared. They had wandered off, moving, as they do when hobbled, by a series of little jumps, in the direction from which we had come the previous evening. I sent a party to track them. They had gone back a distance of fifteen miles to our last halting-place, and were found quietly grazing there, quite unconcerned at the trouble they had given us! The incident made me lose a valuable day. It was not the slightest use to get angry, so I resigned myself to such incidents quite meekly at last. Camels will wander extraordinary distances in search of water when very thirsty. I heard of a case where two camels had gone back a six days’ march to the previous well, when, had they only known it, the next well was only one day’s march ahead! Usually they have a keen instinct for the presence of water, and when they have been to a well, along a certain route, they will recollect the road in a wonderful manner.
Cases of guides having lost their way, and having then trusted themselves to the memory of the camel, by allowing him to go in the direction he selects, are frequently repeated. The camel in such cases generally, although, of course, not invariably, brings the caravan safely to the well. It must be understood that this will not occur unless the animal has followed that route on previous occasions, and further, that he must in such cases usually be within a few miles, at most, of the well.
One rather unpleasant feature about these Sahara camels is the number of ticks they collect. These loathsome insects find a habitation on all camels, and are difficult to destroy.
I was advised to ride barefoot in the desert, but never could persuade myself to try on account of the fear of ticks. As I previously mentioned, the camel is here ridden with the rider’s feet on the animal’s neck, and I used always to wear long riding-boots made of soft leather with soft soles. If heavy-soled boots are worn the camel’s neck will get chafed from the constant friction of the leather against his skin. The hair of the mane of a riding-camel is invariably worn away on account of the pressure of the rider’s feet, and a riding-camel can generally be distinguished by this mark.
Stirrups are never used with the camels of the Central and Western Sahara. All camels are trained by Tuaregs or Arabs, from whom they are bought, and these two races never ride with stirrups, but with their feet on the animal’s neck. The camel is guided by the feet, and he is urged forward by repeated taps of the feet on his neck. The rein can hardly be said to guide him, and is certainly never put to this use by the desert nomads. The rein generally is attached to a ring in his right nostril, being then brought under his neck to the near side. Its chief use is to haul up the animal’s head when he, in his pig-headed way, will lower it to graze against your wishes.
A camel’s walk is a most tiring motion. He sways you from side to side as well as from front to rear. It is something like being in a ship when she is both pitching and tossing. I never got used to the movement, and for the first few weeks used to get painfully stiff and sore.