Exploration of Aïr

by Angus Buchanan

PREFACE

A narrative of an odd undertaking to a foreign land. Odd, in the first place, insomuch that for the greater part of a year a man’s tongue was mute to the language of his race, for the land where he travelled was native: first to the Hausa people; later to Hausa, Beri-Beri, Fulani and Tuareg; and later still to Tuareg alone; while over all there was a mere handful of French Europeans, who were the military administrators of law and order.

The country was that known as the Territoire Militaire du Niger of the Western Sudan, wherein, remote and in the midst of desolate seas of sand, lies the wild brooding mountain country of Aïr or Asben—which was the traveller’s goal.

It might be said that the traveller was a rude man, for he was untutored in the deep studies of the scholar of many languages, as in a measure might be expected and understood of one whose occupation called him from day to day to don rough clothing and shoulder a rifle and march outside the frontiers of civilisation.

Clumsy, therefore, were his beginnings in speech with the people of the land; clumsy also his studies and understanding of all things new and strange which unfolded before his eyes in that amazing succession of novelty that taxes a balanced capacity of observation when one stands spell-bound at the entrance of an unexpected wonderland. Nevertheless, day by day, confusion became less; small words came of many tongues; piece by piece threads of understanding became woven into something durable and of the character of trustworthiness.

So that to-day I—for, alas, I must use that personal pronoun which is hateful to me, and admit that I am the traveller, so that I may shoulder the full responsibility as to the faithfulness of this narrative—have taken courage to tell my story with all its shortcomings, but at the same time with an earnestness that may in the end reveal, perhaps, the greater part of the picture of a strange land as it appeared to me.

And I would tell you that it is a wholly pleasant task to sit at home—Home, with all its repose and sweetness, neither sun-exhausted nor limb-weary, and with a full repast at hand—and look backward on the trail through the Sahara, and hear in imagination the fierce wind that brings a blinding sandstorm on its billows, and only have to write about it all.

But, though thus it is to-day, to-morrow or the day after I may be gone once again to the uttermost corners of the world—for such is my calling.

Some of my countrymen might envy me my to-morrow, some might pity me; but to all I would say neither one thing nor another. Such adventurings have their rare hours of pleasure and excitement and their long weary periods of trial and endurance. He is wise who knows the hazard of life stripped of all its romance and does not expect to find either great compensation or great gladness in strange lone lands—in the same way as they are seldom to be found in any man’s labours of the commonplace day.

It is deep satisfaction to me to know that, so far as the collections brought back are concerned, my labours have not been in vain, for it is one of my greatest desires, and the desire, I am sure, of many loyal-hearted men, to see Great Britain ever striving to continue to hold the honourable and prominent place in the development of the Natural History of the World which she has held in the Past. A year or two ago there were numerous and able rivals in the field, and Germany and America appeared to be on the verge of leading the world in all scientific research. Though a set-back to the former has occurred through the unfortunate circumstance of war, rivalry of nations will undoubtedly continue in the labyrinths of research, and, I trust, will be welcomed from any quarter as a healthy element that will ever give incentive to the students and scientific workers of this country to hold their own, and offer inducement to public-spirited people to encourage and support their commendable efforts.

The humble work, which in the following pages I venture upon, is not in any way a treatise on Natural History, but is a narrative descriptive of strange scenes and peoples in Out-of-the-World places in which Aïr has prominent position. And Aïr, in the centre of the Sahara, is unknown, or virtually unknown to English-speaking people. The German explorer Dr. Barth, in his travels in Central Africa, 70 years ago (1850-1), on behalf of the British Government, passed through Aïr, and in his Travels in Central Africa gave some brief discursive description of the country, which is, so far as I am aware, the only account of Aïr that we have in modern English literature.

But to return to my first remark, there are other reasons than that given in the first place for terming this an odd undertaking, and they are that the journey, which totalled some 1,400 miles of camel-travel, led to a land that was almost virgin to exploration of any kind, and of which nothing was known; while by force of circumstances it was decided for me that I must go on my long journey alone if I wished to undertake it; and therefore, perforce, I set out without the two or three good comrades that can help so greatly to lighten burdens, real or imaginary, on long uncertain trails.

The primary object of the Expedition, which was undertaken in the interests of the Right Honourable Lord Rothschild, was to link up the chain of Zoological Geography across that portion of Central Africa which lies between Algeria in Northern Africa and Nigeria in West Africa. Previous research had advanced from the south as far afield as Kano in Nigeria, and from the north to the Ahaggar Mountains in the Sudan southwest of Fezzan. There remained a great intermediate space unexplored by naturalists, wherein are the French possessions known as the Territoire Militaire du Niger and the unsettled mountainous region of Aïr or Asben; and it was through those said countries that the expedition proposed to journey.

With regard to the term Aïr or Asben which is applied to the great range of mountains which lie north of the region of Damergou, I think it is a pity that there should exist the seeming doubt of correct designation which the double title implies, and for my own part I propose, through my narrative, to refer only to the country as Aïr, which is the correct name in the language of the Tuaregs who inhabit the region, whereas Asben is a Hausa name, and would appear to have no particular claim to recognition since it is not Hausa country in the present era, whatever it may have been in the distant past, when tribal and religious wars were continually forcing territories to change hands.

The altitude readings, which I note during the narrative, since many of them have not been previously recorded, were taken with an aneroid barometer set to sea level before starting on the expedition.

Although the expedition was to a French colony, I feel that it was foreign only so far as concerned the difference of language, for the few officers I encountered, who so ably helped me on my way, if help I needed, were big-hearted men of the Lone Places among whom one could not feel a stranger. To all I owe thanks for such success as I gained, and gladly give it should any old comrade of the open road read this humble work.

I am indebted, also, to the administrative officials in charge of the Kano district who kindly rendered me many services ere I set out to cross the boundary.

Collecting in the field is one side of Natural History research, but there is, as you are aware, another side—the painstaking study of the specimens after they are unpacked on the museum benches at home. And I am much indebted to Lord Rothschild, Dr. Hartert, and the British Museum for having most kindly furnished me with the full results of the skilled studies of research to which the collections have been subjected since my return, for in so doing they have placed most valuable records at my disposal, so that I may draw from that large fund of knowledge when desired and enhance the value of this work.

Angus Buchanan.