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.
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.
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.
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.
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.