V
Strangers have drifted into camp.
The caravan, at the time, is settled among a sea of wonderful sand-dunes; Erg land of the Sahara. We have found, in lake-like basins between the dunes, some good Alwat for the camels, and are inclined to delay so that the animals may benefit.
Hitherto no sign of human life had been seen—and now these men, who have followed in on our tracks.
Their camels are splendid, and elaborately saddled. They dismount on a dune crest overlooking the camp. There are four of them. The senior is a small, sharp-eyed man dressed like a prosperous Arab, while the others are tall, strangely gross-looking, and less dignified.
THE WAYFARER’S POSSESSIONS
Ordinarily their presence would be accepted without question, but my suspicions are aroused because they are curiously furtive, and have suddenly appeared in a wild region where not expected.
Joining us, they profess to be traders, and have a few trivial things about their persons to offer. Questioned as to where they have come from, and whence proceeding, their answers are evasive and contradictory. However, we elicit the information that the name of the senior man is Myram, and that he is a native of Ghat.
They remained some hours; long enough to appraise all we possessed, and our strength. In the evening they departed, heading north.
They were no sooner gone than my camel-men came forward to ask me to be careful through the night. “Those men were robbers,” they declared; “there will be others at hand.”
However, a wakeful watchful night passed uneventfully. It may have been that the camp was too well armed, or too alert; in any case, we saw no living soul again.[18]
And thereafter we spent some days among the dunes—perhaps the most beautiful and most mystical environment that one may find in the Sahara; and always the colours and shadows of morn and eve were infinite and superb.
Nevertheless, the influence of these gigantic scenes of sand sometimes affects the travel-stained imagination; particularly when there is no escape from constant sameness over a prolonged period. A good illustration of how it engrosses and depresses one’s thoughts, even in sleep, is contained in a dream of Glover’s.
“I dreamt, last night, that you had received a message from the French saying that your journey had all been a mistake, and that you could not continue across the Sahara. The message went on to say that they were very sorry about the disappointment to you, but if you cared to wait you could continue north next year. You answered, ‘All right, we will wait,’ and settled to camp among the awful sand. Then I clearly saw both of us sitting there through an eternity—waiting, always waiting. And as we sat more and more sand dust covered us!—until I saw quite six inches piled upon your shoulders and arms.
“And at last I seemed to rise up and scream—‘This is awful!’ We cannot wait here longer; the dust will rise and rise for ever!’”
So that in more ways than one, camp-fires in the Ergs hold mysterious dangers.
CHAPTER XII
FEATHERS, AND THE PLACES THEY FREQUENT
CHAPTER XII
FEATHERS, AND THE PLACES THEY FREQUENT
From time to time I am asked a great many questions regarding the Sahara, and nothing has pleased me more than to find that an astonishing number of people are interested in Nature, and want to know something of the wild life in the country of my travels. Invariably the first questions put by my interrogators are: “What lives in the Great Desert?” and “However do creatures exist in such a land?”
Queries of the kind bring home realisation of how firmly is planted the popular conception that the whole of the Sahara is desert, and how difficult it becomes, once a belief is firmly planted, to convey, by a broad sweep of the hand, or pen, the complete aspect of any land by proxy. In general, it can be said that awe of the Great Desert is the main feature that has taken hold in the mind’s-eye of the public up to the present time, while the manifold changes of locality, that are common to the completed character of any country, are, as secluded havens, almost entirely overlooked. The romance of the Sahara has, as it were, swept us off our balance, and the picture is out of perspective, in the rush of workaday lives that permit of little time for deep contemplation of subjects other than those that are of immediate concern.
On the other hand, when work of exploration is undertaken in a foreign land, it is the traveller’s first purpose to seek into every nook and corner, far from the beaten track; and, where the land is richest in vegetation, water, and seclusion, he expects to find the rarest prizes.
In country like the Sahara the collector is sure of his ground. The blank ranges of sand hold nothing, or next to nothing; and the desert is vast. Wherefore he ranges far and seeks for sheltered places that give of some fertility; aware that, in a land where the struggle for existence is intense, the creatures of the wild will have sought out the havens before him.
It may be of interest to describe a few of the places where birds are found.
The caravan has been travelling for a few days over absolute desert. I have observed nothing except a single house-fly, noticeable, in exaggerated relief, simply because of the utter absence of other life. Ending this tract of desert, there are pebbly edges with scattered tufts of grass; farther back, a series of slight hollows with a few bushes; and, farther on still, a clump of acacias that screen the old uninhabited well that the caravan is heading for to refill sagging waterskins.
Approaching this welcome change of country, an Arab Bustard takes to flight and clears right away; alert and very shy.
Along the stony margin the most likely birds are larks, and, as it is deep desert beyond, I am not surprised to see, matching the sand in paleness, a single large Curve-billed Desert Lark, and two or three Buff Saharan Larks.
Farther on, among the low shrubs and grass, I disturb a family of Brown Bush Babblers: birds about the size of a thrush that fly very low, and in the formation of a covey of partridges. They emit a fussy, piping call while in flight, but do not go far before they pitch into cover again.
In the clump of acacias beside the well I find a pair of Rufous Warblers and a Yellow Sunbird.
In the evening a few visitors come to the well to drink, having flown, perhaps, long distances from outlying feeding grounds. There are only three varieties: the Red-eyed Grey Dove, which I have come to call “the dove of the sand wastes,” because they are so often present in drear places, and a few tiny Red Waxbills and Grey Serin Finches.
When there is not water spilled at the mouth of the well, the birds have learned, in their need to drink, to descend the dark funnel to the water-level; and it is not uncommon to find some unfortunate ones floating on the surface that have fallen in and been drowned.
In country of this type birds live on the pickings of the sand or of withered leaf-blade; tiny grass seeds and seeds of plant blooms, grasshoppers, crickets, ants, spiders, flies, and all minute insects that gather about the hearts of plant life in a hot climate. Through the day they hide as best they can from the intense heat, huddled in little places of shade with open, panting beaks; and in the evenings and mornings feed when the sting of the sun is less formidable.
A couple of Dorcas gazelle are sighted at sundown, and one is shot; and before the caravan departs next day, there is a Desert Raven at the remains of offal not claimed by my followers.
That, with a few variations, is the sum total of bird life seen over a number of weeks of travel in drear country. Seldom, indeed, are they plentiful; and, should one chance upon flocks in a very attractive quarter, they are likely to be of only one or two species. Hence, collecting in the Sahara is a painstaking business, entailing long trying journeys of nomadic character, from one place of promise to another, much fruitless searching, and many disappointments. But enthusiasm is the life of the collector. So that rebuffs and blank days seldom evoke despair.
In country of Tassili, which is wilderness of another type, the best places for birds are where the land is very rugged and cut up by chasms that run below the surface of the ground. There is often some shrub, weed-plants, and rough grass tufts in the gullies, which furnish some food for bird life, but the spot the collector particularly prizes is where a rare pool of permanent water lies in a rocky cleft.
A BIRD DISGUISE, USED FOR HUNTING GAME
Such a place is Tamengouit, two days north-west of the end of the Aïr Mountains. The approaches are very rough and full of rugged rifts. The country is bleak beyond description, and of black rock; with the frowning hills of Takaraft and Abarakam in the background.
It is difficult to find passage for the camels, over rough country of this nature, and we descended at a snail’s-pace toward a sand waste in the distance; while camel-men reconnoitred in front to find a clear course unblocked by sudden chasm. After considerable loss of time, owing to set-backs that necessitated awkward detours, the caravan reached its destination, and camped.
Water was about a quarter of a mile away at the head of a sandy inlet. A bird of good omen swung slowly in the air over it: the White Vulture, that is known to the nomads as Kargi Mulet. Tuareg folklore teaches that: “If a traveller is in country that he is not familiar with and sees Kargi Mulet planing slowly to and fro in the sky, it is sure news that water, or people, or game will be found beneath where it flies. Wherefore, if anyone is lost, the sight of this bird is an omen of succour near at hand.”
To find permanent open water is very surprising in such surroundings, consequently the conditions under which it exists are of the utmost interest. A few such rock-pools and ancient wells, for the most part separated about five, six, or seven days’ march, afford the only means of obtaining water in the uttermost interior of the Sahara.
Tamengouit is on latitude 20°. A chasm, that carries heavy weight of water during rare storms, leads from the distant hills out to the level sand. Just above the mouth it narrows to a long, deep gulch with high walls that completely shut out the sun. It is so narrow that it can be leapt across overhead. Down in the bottom, all along its length, lie deep black waters, inaccessible, because of the cliff walls, except at the mouth and at the top end.
One or two specimens, shot while flying overhead, pitched into the chasm and could not be gathered. There is no seepage through the rocks, and the secret of the water’s permanent existence is surely in the fact that the all-absorbing sun cannot reach it. Gloomy and cool, the chasm interior is as a thick-walled tank that no influence of the elements can penetrate.
Remarkable in itself, this rock basin is equally remarkable on account of bird life. In camp on the first night I heard Sandgrouse calling at dusk, and in the night; and knew they were flighting out of the clear sky, from unknown feeding grounds, to slake their thirst in the still chasm. Their presence was certain assurance of water known to the wild, and I turned to sleep expectant of a busy day on the morrow.
And I was not disappointed. Early morning found me at the pool, where a few Coronated Sandgrouse and Barred Sandgrouse still remained from the flocks of overnight. Otherwise all was yet quiet, but I could foresee change whenever the morning feeding time was over, for there were plenty of feathers and toe-prints at the water’s edge, to tell that numerous birds were in the habit of drinking there.
TWO MALE OSTRICHES
COLLECTED ON THE SOUTHERN SHORES OF THE SAHARA
I spent the time searching for Nightjars among the rocky flats beyond the chasm. Those nocturnal birds are very difficult to find, because of their perfect protective colouring among the rocks where they hide during the day, and their habit of remaining still until almost trodden upon. My search proved fruitless, and I returned to the water.
About 9 a.m., roughly, four hours after dawn, some groups of small birds, directing one another by fussy chatterings, arrived at the pool to drink, obviously very thirsty and excited because my presence was disturbing and unusual. The greatest number were Trumpeter Bullfinches, next in quantity, Grey Serin Finches, a few Striolated Buntings, and one or two little dark Saharan martins that gracefully flitted up and down the pool feeding on insects, and dipping to drink occasionally.
Concerning the latter, all Martins, Swifts, and Swallows are termed “Afurtitta” by the Tuaregs, and in their quaint folklore they are “Birds of Allah that live always in the sky with God. It is for all eyes to see that they are so entirely independent of the earth that they never descend to the ground for the food of life, and when they would drink they merely swoop to touch the surface of the water.”
About ten o’clock a few Blue Rock Pigeons shot swiftly from the sky to whirl into the chasm and perch on the shady cliff ledges. I knew of their presence in some regions of Aïr in small scattered numbers, so that at first I was not altogether surprised. But when these were followed by flock after flock, until hundreds had arrived, I was astonished, for I had never before witnessed a like occurrence; nor have I since. Up till noon pigeons continued to arrive, swift-winged and desperately eager to drink; whence they came I knew not, but I judged that the late birds, at least, had come from a tremendous distance.
Pondering over the strange occurrence, which was a very extraordinary one in the Sahara, I came to the conclusion that this water, because of its permanent state, was probably long known to these fleet-flying birds; and that the news of its existence has been passed on, as birds have a way of doing, until most of the pigeons of the region knew of Tamengouit as a place of water that could be relied on in the darkest periods of drought.
One other species was seen during the morning: a Peregrine Falcon. His sudden appearance struck terror into the hearts of the pigeons, who dived to their cliff ledges, to crouch wild-eyed under the protection of the chasm, while the raider swung wide, waiting for the victim he would choose to kill. Well they knew him as the master bird of flight, possessed of speed that none might elude in a race through the air. But for once he was baulked, for he feared my presence. Moreover, it was too hot for him to remain overlong at a distance in the sky. Hence, after a time, he turned definitely east and sped away to some shady ledge in ravine or mountain to await the cool of evening.
CATTLE EGRETS
Tamengouit was but a halt by the wayside, and next day it recovered its wonted solitude as the caravan trailed slowly away.
Out in the dreariest desert there is one strange bird that the traveller may see; not commonly, but only rarely when a camel dies. On such occasions one may watch the clear blue sky, where it reaches its uttermost height, and, in time, discern the tiniest speck, at a tremendous distance, poised there for a seeming indefinite period. By and by, in like inexplicable manner, other specks foregather from unseen source beyond the sight of men. And there they may remain for hours, perhaps coming a little nearer; but on the morning following one awakes to find huge Griffon Vultures sitting ghoul-like round the carcase, waiting the time that it shall be torn asunder while one, perched on the head, endeavours to start an opening round the soft parts of the eye.
Of different character to such wilderness places of bird life are the oases of the Sahara, where a few species which I term sedentary birds are to be found; and migrants, on their way across Africa.
Date palms, garden cultivation, and open irrigation ditches, are the chief attractions to bird life in such places; but, since these are in close proximity to dwellings and the disturbance of mankind, only a few species settle permanently in these localities. Birds that are fairly sure to be seen in oases are: Desert Ravens, on the look out to pillage scraps, Black Wheatears, living on the ants and flies that molest habitations, Yellow Sparrows, frequenting the palms, and Striolated Buntings that are prone to be very tame and sparrow-like about the dusty hut-doors.
The unexpected in oases is very often some migrant, if the season be March-April in the spring, or October-November in the autumn. At these times birds flight on their long, instinct-prompted voyage, across Africa, and, should one be out on the desert, strange calls may be heard overhead at night from flocks that wing their way through the sky. Some of these migrants lose their way, or lose their strength, and falter, for crossing the Great Desert is akin to crossing the sea. I have known Swallows and Wagtails and Shrikes to come flying in toward my caravan, when it was the only object in an immensity of space, and seek a resting-place on the loads of the camels. On one occasion I caught a Yellow Wagtail by putting out a hand from my seat in the saddle to seize it as a cricketer clutches a ball. It was in great distress, and I tipped my water-bottle until the bird could see the water at the mouth. Immediately it drank hungrily, though clasped in my hand. I carried it thereafter until an oasis was reached, when I set it free.
YOUNG ARAB BUSTARDS
In cruel, ungiving desert the traveller, at times, comes across the pitiful skeletons of birds that have perished from thirst and want on ill-fated pilgrimage. And mortal mind pauses in sympathy with the wild in the appalling poverty of such a lingering death; for all who know the desert are aware of the grim price that is paid by any living creature unfortunate enough to become involved in the folds of a land that expresses neither mercy nor hate, yet slowly kills with terrifying intent.
On the other hand, distressed migrants sometimes find succour in landing at oases. And the numbers of wayfarers that drift into such harbours in this way are astonishing because they are so out of place in their temporary sandy surroundings. For instance, I have shot our Common Snipe in the Sahara, and collected Tern, Stilt, Sandpiper, Shoveller, Pintail, Teal, Heron, and others that have nothing whatever in common with the country.
It would be irksome to go into all the details that surround the bird life of the Sahara, but a few further notes on the Tuareg folklore that relates to certain species may be of interest before concluding. In each case I give the native name of the Tuaregs.
The Black Wheatear is known to the nomad as Seni Seni. “It is the bird that brings news of strangers; particularly news of robbers. If anyone strange is approaching, Seni Seni flies at once into a prominent position and perches perfectly still, attentively watching. Whenever the little bird becomes satisfied that the figures are strangers it commences to bob its head rapidly up and down; and so one may take warning. If they are not strangers assuredly the bird will hop down to pick about the ground and take no further notice.”
Another bird, according to their folklore, warns the nomad of the presence of snakes. This is Tagishit Aschiel, the Lesser Rufous Warbler, which spends most of its time about the kind of tangled undergrowth that snakes are given to frequent.
“Whenever Tagishit Aschiel detects a snake he will cry out vigorously and constantly, so that from our hut doors we may hear him, and run out and find the vile reptile; which we are glad to kill, for we fear them about our encampments.”
Yet another bird of warning is: Agishit n’Ugur: the large Yellow Barbet, which is: “The Jackal Bird; because whenever it sees a Jackal it gives out a loud rilling call, and makes a great to-do until the enemy of our flocks is driven away.”
Ashara, the Rufous-breasted Starling, is: “The bird of omen of death, because when it is heard in the evening or at night making a noise resembling the tearing of robes for a shroud, it is likely that on the morrow we shall hear that one of our people has died.”
Zunkusharat, the great Curve-billed Desert Lark: “An evil bird of which all nomads teach their children to beware, because of its alluring habit of flying only a short distance before resettling. Unwary boys think they can catch it easily and are thus led away into the desert without watching where they go; until they are lost.”
Ebakorian-Mallam is a name sometimes applied to the Buff Saharan Lark, the latter part of the name being Hausa, meaning scholar or teacher or priest. “For it is a saintly bird that is always at peace, and robs no one. It is content with the seeds by the wayside, and disturbs neither cultivation nor place of dwelling.”
Bi-Allah. The tiny Red Senegal Waxbill, is “The bird of perpetual content. All day it picks about the doorstep and roosts in the lintel; and all our people know it as emblematic of peace and unconcern, and so have termed it ‘the tiny priest of God.’”
Tedabear Takleet, the Palm Dove, is smaller than the Grey Dove, and, when both happen to be feeding or drinking together, the larger dove domineers the smaller. Takleet means slave, and therefore, in Tuareg folklore, “the Palm Dove is the slave of the Grey Dove.”
Tilel, the Guinea Fowl, has a curious legend concerning it which has arisen because of the blood-red wattles on the head. “See, he is marked by the blow where man hit him, because he would not show people place of water. And ever since that time he has been a dazed fool bird, so that anyone is able to catch him in the trees.”
The outcome of prolonged research in the Sahara during 1919 and 1920, and again in 1922 and 1923, was that altogether 134 different species and subspecies of birds were collected for Lord Rothschild from the Sahara, and seventy-three additional varieties from the Western Sudan.
The Sahara specimens comprised the following birds[19]:
| 1. | Guinea Fowl. |
| 2. | Common Quail (M). |
| 3. | Coot (M). |
| 4. | Large and small Long-tailed Senegal Sandgrouse. |
| 5. | Coronated Sandgrouse. |
| 6. | Lichtenstein’s Barred Sandgrouse. |
| 7. | Nubian Bustard. |
| 8. | Arab Bustard. |
| 9. | Tern (M). |
| 10. | Stilt (M). |
| 11. | Wood Sandpiper (M). |
| 12. | Common Sandpiper (M). |
| 13. | Ruff and Reeve (M). |
| 14. | Snipe (M). |
| 15. | Stone Curlew. |
| 16. | Green Sandpiper (M). |
| 17. | Spurwing Plover. |
| 18. | Cream-coloured Cursor. |
| 19. | Palm Dove. |
| 20. | Red-eyed Grey Dove. |
| 21. | Turtle Dove. |
| 22. | Cape Dove. |
| 23. | Blue Rock Pigeon. |
| 24. | Shoveller (M). |
| 25. | Pintail (M). |
| 26. | Common Teal (M). |
| 27. | Garganey Teal (M). |
| 28. | Tree Duck (M). |
| 29. | Great Billed Goose (M). |
| 30. | Egyptian Goose (M). |
| 31. | Night Heron (M). |
| 32. | Purple Heron (M). |
| 33. | Bittern. |
| 34. | Black and White Stork. |
| 35. | Glossy Ibis. |
| 36. | Carrion Vulture. |
| 37. | White Vulture. |
| 38. | Griffon Vulture. |
| 39. | White-breasted Eagle. |
| 40. | Egyptian Kite. |
| 41. | Pallid Hen Harrier (M). |
| 42. | Singing Hawk. |
| 43. | Peregrine Falcon. |
| 44. | Kestrel. |
| 45. | Barn Owl |
| 46. | African Long-eared Owl. |
| 47. | Eagle Owl. |
| 48. | Scops Owl (M). |
| 49. | Long-eared Grey Owl. |
| 50. | Asben Little Owl (B). |
| 51. | Black and White Crested Cuckoo. |
| 52. | Golden Cuckoo. |
| 53. | Red-billed Hornbill. |
| 54. | Greater Saharan Woodpecker. |
| 55. | Lesser Saharan Woodpecker. |
| 56. | African Roller. |
| 57. | African Hoopoe. |
| 58. | European Hoopoe (M). |
| 59. | Wood Hoopoe (B). |
| 60. | Black-capped Blue Bee Eater. |
| 61. | Green Bee-Eater. |
| 62. | Blue Naped Crested Coly. |
| 63. | Goldcrest Barbet. |
| 64. | Yellow-breasted Barbet. |
| 65. | Red-headed Barbet (B). |
| 66. | Golden Nightjar (B). |
| 67. | European Nightjar (M). |
| 68. | Brown Nightjar and Pennant Winged Nightjar. |
| 69. | White-rumped Swift. |
| 70. | European Swift (M). |
| 71. | Pallid Swift. |
| 72. | Red-rumped African Swallow. |
| 73. | European Swallow (N). |
| 74. | Saharan Rock Martin (B). |
| 75. | Redstart (M). |
| 76. | Common Wheatear (M). |
| 77. | Desert Wheatear. |
| 78. | Black Wheatear. |
| 79. | Saharan Rock Chat (B). |
| 80. | Whinchat (M). |
| 81. | Rock Thrush (M). |
| 82. | Black Thicket Babbler. |
| 83. | Brown Bush Babbler (B). |
| 84. | Rufous Warbler. |
| 85. | Reiser’s Pallid Warbler. |
| 86. | Icterine Warbler (M). |
| 87. | Chestnut-breasted Grey Warbler. |
| 88. | Common Whitethroat (M). |
| 89. | Orphean Warbler (M). |
| 90. | Chiff-chaff (M). |
| 91. | Willow Wren (M). |
| 92. | Crowned Grass Warbler. |
| 93. | Alexander’s Scrub Warbler. |
| 94. | Short-tailed Buff-breasted Warbler. |
| 95. | Yellow-breasted Sunbird. |
| 96. | Dark Green Sunbird (B). |
| 97. | Sudanese Penduline Tit. |
| 98. | Puff-backed Flycatcher. |
| 99. | Spotted Flycatcher (M). |
| 100. | Pied Flycatcher (M). |
| 101. | Collared Flycatcher (M). |
| 102. | Grey Shrike. |
| 103. | Red-headed Shrike (M). |
| 104. | Small Chestnut Striped Shrike. |
| 105. | Yellow Wagtail (M). |
| 106. | White Wagtail (M). |
| 107. | Asben Brown Pipit (B). |
| 108. | European Tawny Pipit (M). |
| 109. | European Tree Pipit (M). |
| 110. | Red-throated Pipit (M). |
| 111. | Great Curve-billed Desert Lark. |
| 112. | Mirafra Short-toed Lark. |
| 113. | Buff Saharan Lark (B one group). |
| 114. | Crested Lark. |
| 115. | Bar-tailed Desert Lark. |
| 116. | Small Thick-billed Lark. |
| 117. | Eastern Short-toed Lark(M). |
| 118. | Chestnut Black-breasted Lark. |
| 119. | Grey Black-breasted Lark. |
| 120. | Striolated Bunting. |
| 121. | Desert Sparrow. |
| 122. | Chestnut-backed Yellow Sparrow. |
| 123. | Grey Serin Finch. |
| 124. | Trumpeter Bullfinch. |
| 125. | Pencil-crowned Weaver (B). |
| 126. | Lesser Yellow Weaver. |
| 127. | Greater Yellow Weaver. |
| 128. | Singing Finch. |
| 129. | Senegal Waxbill. |
| 130. | Rufous-breasted Starling. |
| 131. | Wing-spotted Glossy Starling. |
| 132. | Pied Crow. |
| 133. | Desert Raven. |
| 134. | Short-tailed Raven. |
CARRION VULTURES
The following are the additional seventy-three species and subspecies that were found in the Western Sudan on the southern margins of the Sahara between latitudes 12° and 16°:
| 135. | Ostrich. |
| 136. | Rock Partridge. |
| 137. | Francolin (two species). |
| 138. | Barred Sandgrouse. |
| 139. | Pigmy Golden Quail. |
| 140. | Senegal Bustard. |
| 141. | Wattled Plover. |
| 142. | Cream-coloured Cursor. |
| 143. | Blue-spotted Ground Dove. |
| 144. | Greater Grey Dove. |
| 145. | Dark-eyed Grey Dove. |
| 146. | Blue-spotted Pigeon. |
| 147. | Green Pigeon. |
| 148. | Cattle Egret. |
| 149. | Large Grey Heron. |
| 150. | Sacred Ibis. |
| 151. | Snake Eagle. |
| 152. | Swallow-tailed Hawk. |
| 153. | Red-winged Hawk. |
| 154. | Sparrow Hawk. |
| 155. | Banded Gymmogene. |
| 156. | Red-headed Falcon. |
| 157. | Pigmy Falcon. |
| 158. | Lanner Falcon. |
| 159. | Senegal Little-eared Owl. |
| 160. | Little Owl |
| 161. | Lark-heeled Cuckoo. |
| 162. | Great Spotted Cuckoo. |
| 163. | Black-billed Hornbill. |
| 164. | Large Grey Plantain Eater. |
| 165. | Small Green Parrot. |
| 166. | Spotted-capped Woodpecker. |
| 167. | Square-tailed African Roller. |
| 168. | Little Short-tailed Roller. |
| 169. | Grey Kingfisher (B). |
| 170. | Black and Scarlet Barbet. |
| 171. | Greater Wood Hoopoe. |
| 172. | Long-tailed Nightjar. |
| 173. | Palm Swift. |
| 174. | African Swallow. |
| 175. | Red-browed Swallow. |
| 176. | Black and White Wheatear (M). |
| 177. | Sudanese Rock-Chat (B). |
| 178. | Brown Bush Babbler (B). |
| 179. | Common Reed Warbler (M). |
| 180. | Bonelli’s Warbler (M). |
| 181. | Long-tailed Scrub Warbler. |
| 182. | Little Scrub Warbler. |
| 183. | Golden-thighed Warbler. |
| 184. | Striped Grass Warbler. |
| 185. | Senegal Sunbird. |
| 186. | White Eye. |
| 187. | Paradise Flycatcher. |
| 188. | Red-winged Bush Shrike. |
| 189. | Crimson Shrike. |
| 190. | Black and White Crested Shrike (B). |
| 191. | Long-tailed Shrike. |
| 192. | Painted Yellow-breasted Bunting. |
| 193. | Greater Bush Sparrow. |
| 194. | Lesser Bush Sparrow (B). |
| 195. | Yellow Serin Finch. |
| 196. | Large Black Weaver. |
| 197. | Whydah Finch. |
| 198. | Little Black Weaver. |
| 199. | Red Bishop. |
| 200. | Banded Amadevat. |
| 201. | Melba Finch. |
| 202. | Grey Scarlet-marked Waxbill. |
| 203. | Bengalee Waxbill. |
| 204. | Long-tailed Glossy Starling. |
| 205. | Purple Starling. |
| 206. | Tick Bird. |
| 207. | Little Long-tailed Crow. |
CHAPTER XIII
MAMMALS OF THE SAHARA
CHAPTER XIII
MAMMALS OF THE SAHARA
Lacking the wings of the feathered world, the animal life of the Sahara has not the same highly convenient means of passing from place to place, when the necessity arises to evacuate exhausted feeding ground and find more favourable country. Therefore, if hard pressed, they move carefully, and only at certain seasons, and are apt to cling closely to favoured regions, where such are found.
Any real migratory instinct is, with a few exceptions, not pronounced in the animals of the Sahara, and by far the greater number remain closely confined within their natural types of country, even though these are impoverished and struggle for an existence is keen.
If, on a map of the western portion of Africa, we glance along a line from south to north, starting from Kano in Northern Nigeria, which is about latitude 12°, it is possible to get a rapid idea from the creatures of the country of the change from tropical regions to Saharan regions.
At Kano may be found that loathsome reptile, the Crocodile, and, in the same latitude, Lion; west of Katsina, Elephants, and scattered groups of Giraffe right to the shores of the Sahara in the bush country of Damergou.
The northern boundary of Damergou, which runs along the outer edge of the bush belt, may be taken to be about latitude 16°; and it is there, at the junction between bush and desert, that one finds the line of decided change. Curiously enough, as if to incite one to remember, before entering the desert, the good things that go with a bush-land, it is close to, and on, that very line that four of the most handsome Gazelle and Antelope of Africa are to be found at their best: the White Oryx, Addax, Red-fronted Gazelle, and Damas Gazelle.
All through the dry season—long, weary months among sun-withered vegetation—these animals frequent the margins of bush and desert; but when the rains of the Sudan set in they move out from the sheltered, fly-infested scrub on to the open plains, to enjoy a far-reaching freedom and the fresh winds of the boundless spaces. The Red-fronted Gazelle and Damas Gazelle are content with wandering at no great range beyond their permanent locality, but the White Oryx and Addax, which have strong nomadic instincts and ever move restlessly from place to place, wander right away north when driven from the bush. I have seen them in latitude 18°, and the footprints of Addax in the sand as far north as latitude 22°, while Tuaregs of Ahaggar report the same animal to be west of the mountains on latitude 25°. This is not altogether surprising in respect to the Addax, as a few are found south of Tunis and Algeria, but it may not always be realised that the main stock of the species originates in the bush-belt that pertains along latitude 16°, which forms the shores of the Sahara in the Western Sudan and, doubtless, it is the same line, away eastward, that is the chief habitat of the Addax in Kordofan in the Egyptian Sudan.
A MORNING’S BAG
DORCAS GAZELLE AND GUINEA-FOWL
Once clear of the bush, the species of big game that live in the Sahara throughout the year are very limited. Dorcas Gazelle is the principal animal, and may be found throughout the interior in small numbers; sometimes approachable, if the country is broken; sometimes excessively wild in the open wastes. Its protective sand-colour is remarkable, and, standing still, it is often passed over in scanning a landscape, though perhaps broadside on, in full view, and at no great distance. On occasions of the kind I have suddenly realised that I stood face to face with one of these beautiful creatures, and have ejaculated under my breath: “Good heavens, I must have been asleep not to have seen you before!”
In addition to the above, one or two Damas Gazelle were seen in Aïr and in Ahaggar, feeding on the vegetation of sandy wadis, and a few rare Wart Hog in the former mountains. But there end the ungulate animals of the Sahara, excepting the king of them all, the Arui, or Barbary Sheep, which I will return to later.
Of the lesser animals the chief of interest are: Jackals, Lynx, Wild Cats, Hyenas, Foxes, Fennecs, Ratel, Ground Squirrels, Gerbils, Spiny Mice, Jerboas, Porcupines, Gundis, Dassies, and Hares.
Like the bird life, but even more so, these animals are nowhere plentiful, and the species collected were obtained over a prolonged period, and through traversing a tremendous extent of country. Sixty-four different species and subspecies were collected altogether, representing examples of almost every animal that lives on the shores of the Sahara and in its interior, and these have proved of the greatest scientific value to the authorities of the British Museum in linking up the mammalogy across a vast tract of Africa. The mammals of my first expedition were collected for Lord Rothschild, who generously presented a set of all species obtained to the British Museum, and I was glad to add the results of the second expedition to our national museum to make the whole as complete as possible.
The collections contained no fewer than fifteen new species and eleven new subspecies, which Messrs. Oldfield Thomas and M. A. C. Hinton, of the British Museum, have declared to be one of the most remarkable collections of novelties ever secured in the history of mammalogy.
I feel that, to give some impressions of the animal life of the land, they should be dealt with under one or two aspects. The first place of interest is the southern shore of the Sahara, particularly at the time of rains—August-September, or thereabouts.
BIG GAME FROM THE SHORES OF THE SAHARA
FINE HEADS OF WHITE ORYX AND ADDAX
To any caravan out on the trail rains are a tremendous discomfort, and with camels, in wet weather the drawbacks are increased. Yet it often falls to the lot of the traveller to journey through the worst of weather, and on my second expedition it happened to be my wish to reach the neighbourhood of the bush edge at the season in question because of the movement of game.
In accomplishing this my caravan experienced outdoor conditions at their worst. Everyone knows the intensity of tropical storms in their wild, spasmodic outbursts. When the weather broke the caravan was beset with periods of low-flung thunder and lightning, hurricane winds, and torrential rains that swooped across the land with alarming rapidity and malignant fierceness. Enforced camps had to be hurriedly pitched to protect valued specimens and perishable baggage, while the work of skinning, which was always my concern, was impossible, even under canvas, owing to the fierceness of wind and driving rain.
Each day, at one time or another while en route—sometimes at an extremely awkward hour, when only a short distance had been travelled from the last camp—great black clouds would race up from the skyline, to be watched anxiously until the first deep rumblings of thunder gave warning to hasten to take cover. Whereat the camels had to be halted at once on any piece of raised ground near at hand that gave promise of not being under water when the torrent should fall. It was always a mad race against the elements. So soon as the brutes were on their knees camel-men hurriedly released the loads from the saddles, then piled them in a heap, and covered all with a large ship’s tarpaulin carried for the purpose. At the same time a tent would be hurriedly pitched.
Sometimes we were ready for the onslaught of the storm just in the nick of time, or got drenched to the skin battling to hold down the last few tent-ropes and drive home secure pegs as the first wave of the gale hurled in upon us. Then, packed into the small space of the tent, masters and men crouched, sheltering from the storm, and waited impotently its passing. No meal could be cooked—not even a comforting cup of tea. If it happened to be evening, or night, camp-beds and blankets had perforce to remain unpacked among the baggage. Sometimes the operator and I slept on the ground, under cover of the tent, in the clothes we stood in, and went to bed foodless. On other occasions we risked the rain and sought such rest as could be found in wet bedding, soaked either by actual rain or the heavy dew that always followed.
This did not end discomfort. Mosquitoes and sand-flies followed these storms, and were terrible pests. I have never known them more persistent and venomous, and everyone suffered from poisonous scars, as if we had been attacked by swarms of bees. So bad were they that some of the natives slept on platforms in the branches of thorn-trees, gaining some little relief from their tormentors in these elevated but body-racking “crows’ nests.”
But my camels suffered most of all. The poor brutes appeared to get no rest whatever, even round the smoke of huge log fires that were built, when it was possible, to keep away the pests. All night they could be heard tossing and rolling in the sand to throw off their tormentors: vain efforts that brought barely a moment’s relief, for the air hummed with armies of the terrible insects.
These were our troubles in camp. When it was fine enough to travel we found a fairyland of damp, fragrant sand from which fresh green shoots were already springing, while insects hummed and birds twittered with all the gladness of a wonderful dawn. The magic touch of abundant rain was upon the land, though swift would be its passing.
It was the season for wild life to be abroad. Game, and tracks of game, were abundant. Damas Gazelle were seen in picturesque herds, their white sides and rumps showing in the bush like silver on a cloth of green, while the more sedately coloured Red-fronted Gazelle and Dorcas Gazelle, in small parties or pairs, were passed at almost every turning on the trail.
Ostriches, great birds that never seem to rest, were sometimes sighted far off, passing on their journey of the day, picking a morsel here and there, but never ceasing in their onward march.
Giraffe was seen only once, but on a number of occasions their fresh tracks were crossed. These were left unfollowed, as a specimen of the species was not wanted.
After those brief days of torrential rain-bursts all tracks in the tell-tale sand told that the game were moving out northward as the growth of fresh vegetation advanced. My caravan followed the same course. On the outer bush-edge those beautiful antelope, the White Oryx, were encountered, and small bands of cattle-like Addax: animals that appear almost equally white at a distance, until the black forehead and dark-marked limbs of the latter can be discerned. Both are adorned with magnificent heads of horns, three feet to three feet six inches in length, or thereabouts.
These animals are given to restless roaming across open plains of sand, feeding chiefly on scant grass-tufts, where there is little cover, except an odd acacia, solitary or in a straggling group, and the sentinel-like Jiga, which is the choice tree of the solitudes, and the favoured shade of game.
It is under such scattered, dwarf-sized trees that Oryx and Addax are in the habit of resting when the sun is at its height; and it was then that I had a chance to get within rifle-shot, by manœuvring to utilise any slight dip in the land, and by crawling or sprawling long distances flatwise on my “tummy.” By reason of the extreme openness of the country it was stalking of a high order, and hence nerve-exciting and engrossing. Specimens for the museum were wanted, and, although I lost most of the skin from my knees owing to the cutting nature of the hot, sharp sand, I had one or two glorious hunts that ended successfully, and made ample compensation.
DORCAS GAZELLE
White Oryx are killed locally on occasion, by the few Tuaregs and Beri-Beri who roam the region. They ride them down on horseback in the following manner.
When an animal is sighted, and chosen as the quarry, the long race starts, but eventually the Oryx shows the horse a clean pair of heels. The persistent hunter then follows the tracks in the sand until the quarry is again sighted, and a second race ensues. At the end of this struggle of speed the Oryx may break down and become so hopelessly broken-winded that it is easily approached and destroyed. Sometimes a third race is necessary, and, on rare occasions, a fourth. Escape is only possible if the stamina of the horse is over sorely tried, and the hunter has pity enough to cease asking more of his mount.
Jackals and Striped Hyenas were plentiful in the neighbourhood of the game and a few were seen, and tracks of their night prowlings constantly. I have a note regarding the remarkable strength of the Hyena. One day, having skinned a large male ostrich, I had the discarded carcass (not eaten by the natives because its throat had not been cut, as their Mohammedan religion demands) drawn about forty yards away from the camp. At dusk a single Hyena came to the carcass and, to the astonishment of all, commenced to pull it farther away so that it might enjoy the feast out of danger of its enemies. It had taken no less than four strong men to drag the same carcass, by aid of ropes, from camp to the position it occupied—a task this single Hyena was capable of. I have scaled dead ostrich, and know that this particular bird weighed in the neighbourhood of 300 lbs.
In the interior of the Sahara there is nothing to compare with the game to be found on its southern margin. The desert is practically barren excepting in rare wadis that have sufficient vegetation to attract a few Dorcas Gazelle, and perhaps a Desert Fox or Wild Cat, or the like, that feed chiefly on the rodents about the tussock bottoms.
But the mountain regions are havens to a certain amount of animal life, and it is there that one finds the Arui, or Barbary Sheep. In Aïr they are sufficiently rare—because of the altitudes they frequent and the wildness of the mountains, not because of their numbers—to make the quest for them highly interesting. In Ahaggar they are very scarce.
Wild and keen-sensed in sight and hearing, and in difficult country, these mountain sheep are fine animals to hunt, from the point of view of the sportsman. They live in magnificently wild fastnesses, and are truly superb creatures; particularly when caught at eve or dawn poised on the precarious pinnacles of the world, sniffing the wind and inquiring the dangers of the crags beneath them.
But they are never seen unless diligently searched for, and, on account of the wild nature of their haunts, hunting them is strenuous in the extreme. They hide in the cool depths of caves and cairns through the day and venture out toward dusk to feed all through the night. At dawn they again seek shelter. Coolness and darkness appear necessary to their existence; heat and sunlight they avoid.
When I had come to comprehend their habits I more or less adapted my life to theirs in hunting them. I sought the hills, toward dusk, with rifle and blanket, to pick my way steadily up into the mountain-tops, sometimes sighting sheep on the way; then sleeping in some sheltered nook on the summit, till the quest was renewed at the first hint of dawn.
The wild ruggedness of the country is unbelievable until one is actually in amongst the endless range of valleys and slopes that are thick with the disordered rocks and gigantic boulders that make up the crags and corries and cairns which meet one on every side. The hunter requires to be nimble as a cat to leap and step quietly in such surroundings, and noiselessness is essential if the keen-sensed Arui is to be successfully approached. Wherefore one must go barefooted or with soft-soled shoes, and in consequence feet and shins suffer many bruises and jars on the hard, cruel rocks, particularly in travelling when it is very dark. I had no serious accident in those wild hills; only a few minor ones. I once lost the nail of a big toe through a stone giving way and turning over to pin my foot beneath it. On another occasion, through my attention being distracted by movement below, I stepped into space, and had an ugly fall, which was not lightened by my efforts to save my precious rifle. But miraculously no bones were broken, though knees, arms, hands, and face bled so freely that anyone might have thought I was a proper ambulance case.
I was particularly anxious to secure good examples of the Arui of Aïr, which had not been collected by anyone before (which, as a new subspecies, has since been named Ammotragus lervia angusi (Rothsch.) in my honour). Hence I spent many nights in the lone mountains and laid my head to rest in some wild, eerie spots, unknown to the eyes of men. It was a wonderful experience to be all night high up in the great mountains, and to watch the final lights of eve, and dawn. Indeed, I came to know these hills in another complexion. From afar I had always thought them frowning and black, while now I discovered them soft smoke blue in the mornings, and shades of mauve when touched with the late evening sun.
Dawn is the most favourable hour for hunting. It is then that the Arui ascend the steep and bouldered mountain slopes from wild corries where they have been browsing overnight, on a scattering of hardy shrubs and wiry grass, to seek dark resting-place for the day among great cairns near the summits where the air remains cool and shade complete. And that is the time when the hunter has a chance to intercept them on the way to their lairs.
AN AARDVARK OR ANT-BEAR
As a rule, I found them difficult animals to secure, but was greatly aided in hunting them latterly, by coming to realise a curious trait of theirs, which was, that if a sheep was sighted looking intently from a prominence in a certain direction it would, when it moved, surely travel in that direction. Wherefore, by making a detour, it was possible sometimes to intercept the quarry without stalking it directly.
I have seen fairly young mountain sheep in January, and believe they are dropped about the season when rains may occur, viz. August-September.
The Arui were found in Aïr at any altitude between 2,000 and 5,000 feet; but in the hottest season of the year, which reaches its climax about July, they are prone to abandon the lower altitudes and live altogether in the high summits, where it is coolest.
If rain falls at the season it is due they roam widely and come low down to browse on the short-lived green feeding that soon springs up. At such times they find pools in almost every ravine, and they are animals that are very fond of water.
Of the specimens collected all were not weighed. However, 164 lbs. was a good male, and 112 lbs. a fair female. The best horns measured just over 26 inches. The Tuaregs call the Arui Afitall in Aïr, and Oudel in Ahaggar.
The final aspect I will refer to, regarding the animal life of the land, is of an ordinary day in the course of travel.
We are camped in the outlying hills of Aïr. It is a region where there is no winter even in the depth of the year, but in December and January the nights are bitterly cold.
The caravan sets out at dawn on the journey of the day, and the smouldering logs of a night-fire are left behind with regret.
We start over a land of sand and rocks, with high-reaching mountain slopes some miles in the forefront.
It is too early for birds to be showing. Like ourselves, they are feeling the uncommon cold, and shelter among the bushes on the banks of the river-beds until the sun grows warm and the land returns to its accustomed stifling heat.
It is the hour for game to be abroad. In the broken-up valley land a few beautiful little Dorcas Gazelle, of the colour of the sand, are seen busy breakfasting on slim, delicate grasses that they search for in open places. They are the most numerous game in Aïr; unlike the Mountain Sheep, which in comparison are rare, owing to their shyness and the nature of their almost inaccessible haunts. These two animals are the meat-giving game to the few natives of the land. There is one other—the large and handsome white-flanked Damas Gazelle, an exceedingly timid animal that is seldom seen in an ordinary day’s travel.
If I had set out expecting to see much I should have been disappointed, for hours pass and nothing of unusual consequence is encountered. But I know Aïr as a lone, deserted land where one has to be content with little.
I read the trail as the camels move along, particularly when sheets of sand are spread before me. No one has passed ahead; no print of camel foot or donkey hoof marks the surface anywhere. The neat little cloven-hoof prints of Gazelle are fairly numerous and the feet of Field-mice have drawn countless little daisies on the sand where they have fed through the night about tussocks of grass.
Other footprints tell where a Short-Eared Hare has loped across the ground, and I see where a hungry Jackal has picked up the trail and hurried in pursuit. At a cluster of bush I find the up-turnings of a Porcupine that has been burrowing and tearing at a shrub-bottom to feed on its favourite food—the roots of the pale-limbed, big-leaved bush which the Tuaregs call Tirza.
In a shallow, dried-up river-bed the camels are guided clear of a regular warren of holes scooped out in the night by a Ratel in search of dormant frogs buried in the sand a foot or two beneath the surface.
Nearing camping time the caravan reaches a terrace margin and descends a rocky slope, where the camels have difficulty in picking their way. A strange, wild valley lies in the unexpected level below, and a dry river-bed in a deep ravine. It is a drear valley-side, and the caravan passes on into the ravine below. In a cliff I find a deep, dark cave, and strike a match to enter it. It proves to be an old den of Hyenas; their footprints are on the dusty sand and the floor is littered with the bones of camels and other animals. The roof of the cave is festooned with the honeycombs of wasps, but the hives are forsaken.
By this time the journey of the day has drawn to a close, and we camp to rest and eat, and refresh both man and beast, while my skinning-table and knives are set ready for the work of the evening on specimens that, mayhap, shall add to the knowledge of the world.
Altogether, forty-two different species and subspecies of animals were collected from the Sahara and twenty-two additional varieties from the Western Sudan, on its southern shores.
In the Sahara the following mammals were collected[20]:
| 1. | Arui, or Barbary Sheep (B) |
| 2. | Damas Gazelle (B). |
| 3. | Dorcas Gazelle. |
| 4. | White Oryx. |
| 5. | Addax. |
| 6. | Wart Hog. |
| 7. | Baboon. |
| 8. | Small Mouse-eared Bat. |
| 9. | Small White and Brown Bat. |
| 10. | Small Long-tailed Bat. |
| 11. | Desert Hedgehog. |
| 12. | Hausa Wild Cat (A). |
| 13. | Desert Wild Cat. |
| 14. | Genet. |
| 15. | Caracal, or Lynx (B). |
| 16. | Rufous Mongoose (B) |
| 17. | Striped Hyena. |
| 18. | Jackal. |
| 19. | Buff Desert Fox (B). |
| 20. | Grey Rock Fox (B). |
| 21. | Fennec. |
| 22. | Ratel (A). |
| 23. | Saharan Ground Squirrel (B). |
| 24. | Dormouse (A). |
| 25. | Long-tailed Naked-soled Gerbil. |
| 26. | Hairy-soled Gerbil. |
| 27. | Dark Naked-soled Gerbil. |
| 28. | Lesser Naked-soled Gerbil. |
| 29. | Dwarf Gerbil (A). |
| 30. | Large Fawn Gerbil (B). |
| 31. | Large Dark Gerbil. |
| 32. | Large Rufous-headed Gerbil. |
| 33. | Multimanimate Rat (A). |
| 34. | Reddish Spiny Rock Mouse (A). |
| 35. | Dark Spiny Mouse. |
| 36. | Brindled Field Rat (B). |
| 37. | Jerboa (B). |
| 38. | Porcupine (A). |
| 39. | Gundi (A). |
| 40. | Short-eared Hare (A). |
| 41. | Rock Dassy (A). |
| 42. | Aardvark, or Ant Bear. |
Twenty-two additional mammals found in the Western Sudan, on the southern margin of the Sahara, between latitudes 12° and 16°:
| 43. | Korrigum, or Tiang. |
| 44. | Red-fronted Gazelle. |
| 45. | Small Leaf-nosed Bat. |
| 46. | Epauletted Bat. |
| 47. | Long-eared Slit-faced Bat. |
| 48. | Saharan Hedgehog. |
| 49. | Mann’s Shrew. |
| 50. | Large White-tailed Mongoose. |
| 51. | Jackal. |
| 52. | Pallid Fox. |
| 53. | Rothschild’s Skunk (near) (A). |
| 54. | Large Striped Skunk (near). |
| 55. | Ground Squirrel. |
| 56. | Naked-soled Gerbil (B). |
| 57. | Nigerian Hairy-soled Gerbil (A). |
| 58. | Fat-tailed Mouse. |
| 59. | Gambian Giant Rat. |
| 60. | Buchanan’s Giant Rat (A). |
| 61. | Dwarf Mouse. |
| 62. | Striped Bush Mouse (A). |
| 63. | Brindled Field Rat. |
| 64. | West African Porcupine. |
A DESERT FOX
CHAPTER XIV
THE NORTH STAR
CHAPTER XIV
THE NORTH STAR
To succeed in crossing the Sahara was the one great purpose of the expedition that stood out before all others from the day of starting until the end.
Consequently anxious thoughts were ever pointed to the north throughout the whole period of travel, and in due time it followed that the North Star became my most significant and constant friend.
It is known to the Tuaregs by the name Elkelzif, and on many occasions I have, with something of pride, told my camel-men, or explained to strangers of the trail, “Under that star lies my house”; and so it seemed in its distant, steadfast position. It became, in fact, the definite symbol of home, the elusive “light” of a distant land that I must ever endeavour to reach, and when it showed in the sky it was welcomed almost with affection, and always as a friend. And these feelings may be understood when it is remembered that my caravan travelled or lay beneath its guiding light for over four hundred nights, which is a long time anywhere; mayhap, oppressively long in the monotony of great solitudes.
Always, through long weary nights, the North Star twinkled in its steadfast place, with the pointers of “The Plough,” out-stationed like signposts, seeming to direct the traveller to take notice and take heart from the countenance of their sovereign light, that clearly gleamed over the broad highway hung from the roof of heaven.
And, always facing that friendly star, the farther my camels travelled toward it the nearer I came to the goal; until at long last great hope arose that my caravan would get through.
It was then May of the second year. The caravan had reached the Algerian Sahara and was riding hard for rail-head.
But how altered from the start was my little band and its possessions! It had been composed of thirty-six camels and fifteen natives at the commencement, in the spring of the previous year; now all the camels had gone, except Feri n’Gashi, the camel I rode. Awena, the last of the others, had fallen out on the 16th. Of the original natives only two remained: Ali, an Arab of Ghat, and Sakari, a Hausa of Kano. Lack of stamina, sickness, and failure in courage had claimed the rest at various stages of the journey. Only two died as the result of the undertaking.
When to me came hope of reaching the goal Sakari’s impression at the same moment was that he had come so far that he would never see home again.
During those latter stages it is not too much to say that Glover (the cinema operator) and I were bubbling over with happy anticipations. The most discussed subject, next to the thoughts of those who waited our coming, was our conjectures of the enjoyment we should have in eating real food again. That which appealed vastly to both of us was the prospect of pure white bread and butter—no doubt because we had lived so long in a state of constant sandy grittiness, and had almost forgotten the taste and the delicious purity of a fresh oven-loaf. Also, during this month, we had nothing left to eat other than rice and couscous.
“EVER HEADING INTO THE NORTH”
Shortage of food, that had been a grave problem in the past, no longer worried us, however, and gaily we laughed over the joyous thought that all those trials would soon be over. We recalled how, four months ago, the last of luxuries was down to a half-bottle of whisky and two bars of soap.
And so we plodded steadily over the last lap with big hearts, forcing the pace toward home over the still unchanging sand, despite an overpowering desire to sleep in the saddle which now beset us fitfully, partly because vitality was exhausted and partly because of the low altitude, which was now almost down to sea-level.
At last only two days and a night of serious travel lay ahead to Ouargla; thence four days to the rail-head at Touggourt.
South of Ouargla the desert lies in all its bleakness. There is yet no hint of change, though we know we are creeping swiftly in upon civilisation, and that an important oasis is almost within a stone’s-throw, which contains the Headquarters of the Territoire des Oases.
On May 29th the caravan travelled seven hours before being interrupted by a sandstorm, which forced us to camp while the sand drove over us in seething clouds. Even to the end it would seem that the sands must fight my little band.
When the storm died down in the evening we travelled again for some hours.
On the following day the caravan journeyed till noon, and camped, while heavy wind again made conditions uncomfortable. We reloaded at dusk, and by the light of a lovely moon travelled in close to Ouargla: a ride full of remembrance for me, for thoughts were active, and dwelt on the long trail behind with some regrets and sadness, and on the short trail in front with gladness; and the night was fittingly still on the heels of the turmoil of a stormy day. But lonely thoughts were almost past, and the society of mankind at hand.
In the morning we journeyed into Ouargla, coming suddenly out of the desert within sight of the low, crouching oasis. It was not an auspicious arrival. From the distance there was a subdued stillness about the place. Great heat radiated from the sun, and the oasis seemed asleep beneath its influence. The houses discerned appeared deserted. Then a solitary figure in white crossed a glaring space of sand and passed out of sight; and all was still again.
NORTH AFRICA
IN-SALAH MARKET
While we were marvelling over this curious lack of movement, a small knot of people at last detached themselves from beneath the shade of a group of date-palms, and in time we made out that they were riding horses and coming towards us. It proved to be the Officer in Command at Ouargla and some Arab officials. We were offered a very warm welcome, and I learned that my host was Captain Belvalette.
We were duly ushered to the fort and allotted real houses to camp in: a foretaste of the change before us. But that the change would not always be acceptable, at first, I realised when night came, and I tossed and turned within the stuffy space of four walls. My wish was then for the untrammelled star-lit sky.
During that day, and the next, we enjoyed the hospitality of Captain Belvalette and his wife, who left no stone unturned to make us thoroughly welcome and comfortable. We left those kind folks on June 2nd with gratitude and regret, and travelled constantly until we reached Touggourt in the forenoon of the 5th, which was the last day we mounted camels. And the record of the distance that my caravan had travelled from rail-head to rail-head was 3,556 miles; not including all the side-hunting that necessarily falls to the lot of the naturalist in the field.
Baggage was off-loaded for the last time, before a group of curious strangers that soon collected, recognising that we had come from afar. When they had ascertained that we had travelled all the way from the West Coast of Africa they gaped at us as if we were unreal.
About midday I parted from my camel, Feri n’Gashi, to whom I was tremendously attached, for he had faithfully carried me throughout the journey. He seemed to understand that the end had come, and it was a strange, sad-eyed farewell between master and dumb friend, with strong desire to remain together in my thoughts, and, I think, in his. I know I had a lump in my throat, and as for him—well, he could not tell me that which he wished to say.
He looked well, considering all he had gone through, and I sent him away to enjoy a well-earned rest, having arranged with Captain Belvalette that he should return to Ouargla and be cared for so long as he lived. I had no inkling of the rapid sequel. The rest he was to have was of another order, for in the afternoon Ali came running to me in consternation to tell that Feri n’Gashi was dead.[21] I could not believe it, and was deeply moved when I came to understand that it was only too true; Ali was almost as much concerned, for he was a good native, with a very active and sensitive mind. He held my camel in high esteem because of its splendid service throughout the journey, and he had watched and comprehended the intimacy that had grown up between master and camel.
NORTH AFRICA
SCENE IN OUARGLA
In Ali’s view it was: “The will of Allah.”
“You see, Master, he has died while sitting as usual on the ground. He has passed in complete peace. He has neither struggled nor turned over, as is the way of camels; his head has simply fallen forward. . . . Is it not Kismet? He has always been ridden by the big white master, and it is not fit that black man go ride him after that—so he go die.”
Feri n’Gashi’s death cast a heavy cloud over our thoughts for the remainder of the day. Nevertheless, we had much to occupy us in other directions, for we proposed catching the train which left for the coast that night. All our strange assortment of outdoor baggage had to be relieved of their camel trappings and made to look as respectable as possible, then labelled and conveyed down the dusty track to the station. It was dark before the task was done.
Glover and I then enjoyed a square meal at the wood-framed “Hôtel Oases,” and laid in some supplies for the journey; particularly French cigarettes and drinks.
At 9 p.m. the train departed from Touggourt for Algiers, bearing the stock of weather-worn possessions of an expedition, and four tattered, but tolerably healthy-looking wanderers—Glover, myself, and the two natives, Ali and Sakari. The two latter were vastly intrigued with their new mode of travel, particularly with the idea of their sitting still while they flew over the country without the necessity of their doing a stroke of work or undergoing a moment’s physical fatigue.
During the journey one thing made us all as delighted and happy as children—the wonderful green landscape after leaving Biskra. We never tired of feasting our eyes on the uncommon beauty of the countryside, so green with cultivation, and even decked with flowers. To our sand-tired vision it was a marvellous sight, and we knew then, undoubtedly, that we had left the desert behind.
On June 7th we reached Algiers, and were met by the British Vice-Consul, Mr. Gallienne, who gave us a real welcome. He was a man of wonderful foresight, for we had just exchanged greetings when he put his hand in his pocket and produced some English tobacco, saying: “I thought you might be in need of this.” We were so much in need of it that we almost embraced the poor man in our joy. Tobacco had been our most difficult “want” to cope with for many months.
One thing tickled Gallienne’s imagination. I caught him looking at me; whereupon he explained: “You know, I had pictured you lean, and about seven feet tall, and with a broad Scot’s accent. You are certainly lean, but I’ll need to take quite a foot off that stature; as for your accent, it’s no’ verra hieland.”
He was indeed a real good soul, for, when we got into quarters, he set out on all sorts of strange errands, and seemed to enjoy the fun of dress rehearsal in preparing two tattered ragamuffins for the exacting stage of civilisation. Collars, ties, shirts, underclothing, hats: all are difficult articles to choose for other men at any time, but more than difficult when the persons they are intended for have forgotten the sizes of everything they used to wear.
BUCHANAN
AT THE END OF THE JOURNEY
Those were crowded hours of wonderful joy, such as only men may experience who come in at last from the long trail.
And when I lay down to sleep at night, in a bed incredibly soft, my thoughts were overflowing with gratitude that I had lived for this day.
And then I remembered my little friend in the sky, and rising, drew aside the window-blind to find the North Star in its steadfast place gleaming down on picturesque Algiers, and gleaming too, I knew, above a certain Highland village, now no longer remote, . . . and in my mind nestled the thought that the most beautiful place on earth, even to those who wander, is Home.
And, relating to this final period, my wife writes:
“Over thirteen months had passed since my husband had sailed, and the homecoming seemed near; and a very beautiful thought to dream about. The months that had passed had been anxious ones, but always full of hope. However, now I was growing troubled. Letters had always been irregular, but for three whole months I had received no mail or news of any kind. Although my husband had warned me this might happen when he was in the interior, I felt uneasy.
“On April 11th I had a strange presentiment. I was sitting by the fire, sewing, in the evening, when something impelled me to look up at my husband’s photograph which hangs over the fireplace. He seemed to cry ‘Olga!’ three times distinctly, and I felt sure he was ill, and calling me. I went to bed that night very sad and miserable. Sleep was impossible, and always his vision appeared before me. When morning came I put on a brave face and tried to forget the uneasy feelings I had had all night. Just as I started my breakfast I received a cable from Fort Tamanrasset, via Algiers, which threw some light on my strange presentiment. It stated that my husband was badly injured, and would have to abandon further travel.
“Never, never shall I forget that day; everything seemed black and all my hopes shattered. I had been brave for long, but now my heart seemed to fail me, and I was foolish enough to think the worst would happen and he would never return.
“My wee daughter Sheila was my great consoler. With her wee arms tightly round my neck, she would always whisper: ‘It’s all right, Mummie. Daddy will come home to us soon, soon.’
“However, in spite of these fears I afterwards received another message which was much more assuring, for it told that my husband was proceeding, and even continuing to hunt. (Which I learned from his servant, afterwards, he did on crutches and by shooting from his camel.)
“Time seemed to fly on then; and the Consul-General of Algiers, Sir Basil Cave, very kindly advised me when he got news that my husband was safely through to the north.
“On June 7th I received a most exciting cable from my husband at Algiers, telling me of his safe arrival, and that he would land on the following Monday at Dover. It is quite impossible for me to express just what my feelings were when I read the glorious news. All the weary months of waiting were swept aside with the joy of homecoming.
T. A. GLOVER
CINEMATOGRAPHER WITH THE EXPEDITION
“The following night I went south to London, hardly knowing how to wait for Monday to come. On Perth station I was very proud and happy when I saw on the placards:
“‘SCOTTISH EXPLORER CROSSES THE SAHARA’
The porters and inspectors were full of excitement, for most of them knew my husband, and more than one eagerly helped me with my luggage and packed me off happy to meet the man they had sent on his journey sixteen months before.
“June 11th arrived at last, a glorious hot June day. I travelled from Charing Cross to Dover, and, while going down in the train, I read a paragraph in The Times which made me wonder if I was a day too soon. It stated that my husband had arrived in Paris and was due in London the following Tuesday evening. This was Monday, and I kept wondering, all the way down, if I was to be disappointed when the Channel steamer came in.
“Arriving at Dover, in company with Mrs. Glover, the cinema operator’s wife, we discovered it was impossible to get on the quay without a permit, which, in my excitement, I had omitted to obtain in London. I was told I must see the Marine Superintendent and get a pass from him. Entering a small office, I stood and waited anxiously. Presently a big, burly, seafaring man entered from an inner room. Scrutinising me with stern eyes he gruffly demanded my business. In a very nervous and anxious manner I explained I had come to meet my husband. That information seemed to produce not the slightest effect, and I had a dreadful feeling that my request would be refused point-blank. Realising this, I made another attempt, and told how my husband had been away sixteen months, and that I did so wish to meet the incoming boat. I was answered by silence, while I could feel those eyes trying to read me through. At last, turning sharply, he said ‘Humph! We have lots of people like you here’; and then, to a man at his elbow, ‘Write out a pass.’
“At 5 p.m. the boat came slowly in alongside the quay.
“What a moment! I shall never forget it! There seemed hundreds of faces on board, but only one that counted for me. Leaning over the rail, with eyes keenly searching among the waiting crowd, stood my husband, burnt almost black with the scorching sun of the Sahara. It was a wonderful moment, and meeting, full of suppressed emotion, each feeling that at last the great trek was done, and now we could look to home and comforts that had for so long been impossible.
“After the first joy of our meeting was over, I was amazed and somewhat bewildered to see two natives in their strange and picturesque native dress following as close to my husband as space would allow. They beamed broadly when they saw me and realised I was their master’s wife, and at once proceeded to salaam to me with deep bows to the ground. They followed my husband all through the Customs, so closely that they gave one the impression that if they missed him for a single minute they would be lost for ever.
SAKARI BUCHANAN FERI N’GASHI ALI
TOGETHER TO THE END
“I asked one if he felt cold. He replied: ‘Yes, Miss—plenty cold.’ (Which may tell of the heat of the Sahara, for it was a lovely June day.) He then explained that: ‘Master be plenty strong, and in Sahara go walk, walk, walk all the time; and after that plenty work—he never go for sleep.’ These thoughts seemed to be uppermost in his mind.
“At this point the Marine Superintendent came up to me and, with an ingratiating smile, remarked that I was all right now. Then he told me that he had read in the morning’s paper of my husband’s trip, and that it had been well worth while to watch our happy meeting, and to realise what the pass meant to me. He then shook my husband warmly by the hand, and we all stood chatting together.
“Afterwards we proceeded to London and, following a brief stay, which seemed to be full of interviews with the Press, and in every way a whirl of excitement, we came at last home to Scotland and the restfulness of a Highland village.
“Our wee girl Sheila ran to the gate to meet us, and the faithful old Labrador, Niger, who was overjoyed at sight of his long-lost master. . . . And all the long, weary months of waiting were forgotten, and the lovely thought stood out that the object of the expedition had been achieved, and we were once again to be together.”
CHAPTER XV
CIVILISATION
CHAPTER XV
CIVILISATION
What tremendous import lies behind the single word that heads this final chapter! Indeed, it may be the key-word to the whole future of the universe, for civilisation, or rather, over-civilisation, is swaying the world from all reasonable balance, while we drift with the tide, or struggle unheard: and no plan evolves to set back the engulfing flood.
I have a dictionary before me which clearly states that to civilise is:
“To reclaim from barbarism; to instruct in arts and refinements.”
If civilisation succeeded to that end alone it would be a happy world indeed. But has not the so-called civilisation of to-day decidedly turned toward other intents altogether, where greed and selfishness largely play an absorbing part?
This may be said not only of our own land, but of the whole of the civilised world, which feels the weight of industrial despondency, and I dwell on these thoughts without rancour toward my fellows, for no one can foretell the purpose of evolution.
Fortunate are those who can accept the circumstances of life with grave thoughtfulness rather than consternation; and that is a rich teaching, learned, so far as I am concerned, in the world’s wilderness, where life is sweet and realities naked. To those whose lot it is to look on, how empty seems the frantic blame of parliament that succeeds parliament in the government of countries, and how like the howlings of wolves who have lost the trail to more successful competitors who have gone ahead. For parliaments, when all is said and done, strive to make the best of the material in their hands; and that material is largely concerned with complex humanity, which no human power shall ever completely content.
Wherefore it is the clamourings of the wolves that is, as an empty noise, to be condemned as wholly unworthy of any peace-loving community that would prosper. It is they who are out to prey, and, dissatisfied, unscrupulous, hungry for spoil, they care neither for honour nor what they wreck to gain their gluttonous ends.
But if my wanderings far afield have taught me anything, it is that we each of us have in our own keeping a very precious possession that either brightens or slurs our environment. I refer to individual character, which is, after all, since units make the mass, the source that shall always decide the nature and ideals of society. Hence, be circumstances what they may, the individual character has it in its power to be a significant force in the universe; so long as it is strong, and of sterling worthiness.
Wherefore, may it not be that the restlessness and dissatisfaction of modern life is in a minority of characters that are weak and lacking in manliness, and from that source are forthcoming the extremists whose insane attacks on all things as they exist destroy the confidence and tranquillity upon which all true progress flourishes?
There is no denying that there is a mean spirit abroad at the present time, a bad patch of inferior material, as it were; but I cannot believe it is anything more serious than that. And therein lies my faith that the simple meaning of civilisation shall one day be recovered, so that men may turn to their dictionaries again, and comprehend when they read that to civilise is:
“To reclaim from barbarism; to instruct in arts and refinements.”
My chief concern, however, in approaching this subject is to enter on some strange outside impressions of our country, come by in a curious way, in the hope that they may help to show that dissatisfaction with one’s lot is not always justified, and that it is usually possible to find others in circumstances worse than one’s own.
I thought I knew what was meant by poverty before I went to the Sahara (for my life had not been an easy one), but the Great Desert and its people taught me otherwise. Wherefore, when the sudden transition came and I left behind that land of primitive people and ancient customs to regain the heart of civilisation, it was an experience that keyed up the senses to acute receptiveness and tremendous appreciation. Everything was a luxury; everything accepted with thankfulness, and one quarter of the most humble of the comforts that came my way would have filled me with equal content.
So may it be when the mind of man has learned humbleness from a background of desert that holds nothing.
But, if the sudden change of environment was full of incident in my case, it can be readily conceived that Ali’s and Sakari’s first view of civilisation was even more exciting, and filled them with astonishment and wonder.
The lifelong background, to them, was primitive Africa. Previous to joining the caravan they had both lived for many years in Kano, the great Hausa trade centre of Northern Nigeria, and one of the most remarkable native cities in the world. An environment of humble, low, mud-walled huts and narrow sandy lanes had always been theirs, and heat and flies and a dense population, with meagre sufficiency of food, their intimate atmosphere. To them luxury was unknown, and, not knowing it, they were happy. Indeed, Kano is a town of laughter, and its people healthy and content amid a humbleness and simplicity that is as yet unspoiled, and natural to them.
GOOD-BYE TO AFRICA
The language familiar to Ali and Sakari is Hausa; though Arabic is the native tongue of the former. However, for the purpose in view, Hausa will not serve, and therefore, in endeavouring to give some of their impressions of this country as closely as possible, I will, in the main, have recourse to their Pidgin English. To give some idea of this curious and amusing African patois, I will, before proceeding to the main subject, cite some expressions that were familiar during the late expedition:
“Wait small,” i.e. Wait a little.
“He live small,” i.e. The meal is not quite ready.
“Time no reach,” i.e. It is not yet the time appointed.
“Excuse me small,” i.e. Please give room to let me pass.
“He no live,” i.e. When someone cannot be found when wanted.
“This day I be black all over,” i.e. In a bad temper. (No reference to colour.)
“Them French be palava people,” i.e. Talkative people.
“Jeasers,” i.e. Scissors.
Sakari, when asked if he has cleaned my gun:
“I done dust him, sir!
”
Sakari, telling he has looked for a lost knife:
“Them knife: I find him all, I no look him.”
Sakari, when asked if he has found a lost button:
“You make I find him for them place this morning; I find him, I no see him.”
Sakari, having brought a local native to me who can mend a broken frying-pan:
“Look this man! Him say he fit go make them fry pan well.”
Sakari, describing that two men are brothers:
“The mother what born him be mother for that man, too. Them all belong one mother.”
Sakari, referring to one of the camel-men who is exhausted:
“All him strong gone.”
Sakari, referring to the state of my wardrobe when everything is in rags:
“All them clothes broke.”
Sakari, when asked if he has properly killed a lizard before skinning it, chuckled and replied:
“No, sir! Him hard for die.”
“Where is the butter, Sakari?”
“He go die,” i.e. It is finished.
Native, asking for a shilling with the head of Queen Victoria on it:
“I want them money with woman that live for inside.”
Native, having difficulty to cook in a high wind:
“This breeze no fit let them fire stand up.”
Native, detecting that something is burning:
“Some cloth go burn? I hear him smell.”
All through the expedition the natives had to crush their own grain into meal—always the woman’s task at home. One day I said to Sakari:
“Now you savvy how to beat them meal plenty fine you will be able to save your wife much work.”
He replied:
“Oh no, sir! When I go catch Kano again I lose him sense plenty quick. I no be fool go tell my wife that.”
With two unsophisticated worthies like Ali and Sakari, fresh from the wilderness, I had to be prepared for anything when we landed in England. To say that they were excited and astonished would be putting it mildly indeed. They were amazed. In Hausa, when addressing me, or in pidgin English, when speaking to others, they expressed bewilderment of all they saw, and were as delighted as children on an eventful holiday. Everything was novel to them. Everything required explanation.
On the way up to town we had the first inkling of amusing incidents in store. The event was unexpected. The train suddenly rushed into a tunnel and simultaneously my natives, who surely thought the end had come, were stricken dumb with fear. When the train regained the daylight Sakari was sitting drawn up in a corner with big, frightened eyes, and he gasped:
“O master! I think this train no go take the right road.”
On reaching London, quarters were found for Ali and Sakari in Gower Street. They were disappointed and almost alarmed when they learned that they could no longer camp beside me, and uneasy at the thought of being separated. Ali’s greatest concern was that he could no longer follow my footprints:
“This no be Tenere [desert], Master! If you are lost, how I be fit go see your foot on these rocks?” (paved streets).
However, I assured them I would come and see them each day, and with that they had to be content.
During the forenoon of the next day I saw them again. Both complained of stiff necks.
“What’s the matter?” I queried.
They grinned broadly, and replied:
“Yesterday we go walk and walk, and all time we go look for top them high house; O Master, they be plenty fine past house of Kano. Them house tall plenty, plenty; but to-day neck be sick. Only way man fit go look for up proper be for him lie down on road [street] same same as when sleep for camp.”
The endless streets lined with innumerable houses were further source of wonderment. On one occasion, after walking for an hour or so through a maze of closely built thoroughfares, they came out into Regent’s Park to exclaim:
“Ah! now we go look the desert of London; this ground no have house for him.”
In the streets they expressed surprise that everyone ate indoors and that no one was seen sitting down to food by the side of the open thoroughfare, as was common enough in their own country.
The huge population of the metropolis also came in for much comment, and they speedily realised that there were more people in London than in the whole of Kano emirate.
GLOVERBUCHANAN
BACK TO CIVILISED CLOTHES
One day, Ali informed me that:
“There be plenty plenty people for this town who all be different, and who sit and say nothing.”
This I could not comprehend, until slowly it dawned on me that he was referring to the monuments of London—“The people who sit and say nothing.”
While on the subject of monuments, the first silver currency in Nigeria had the head of Queen Victoria on the one side, and hence the shilling became widely known among the Hausa natives as Silli mai mammie (the shilling that has the mother). One day, when passing Buckingham Palace, Ali and Sakari came in view of the monument of Queen Victoria. At once they recognised the head, and excitedly pointed and exclaimed:
“Look there! It is the lady of the shilling.”
I doubt if anyone could have guessed what would be the three very first things to strike deeply upon the imaginations of Ali and Sakari when they first entered London.
They were: Policemen in uniform, wax models, and babies in perambulators.
The police were:
“Magic men, who, when they go put up hand, they fit go stop all the people.”
Wax models:
“English magic. This people savvy how to make woman same same for live.”
Babies in perambulators were remarkable because of the novelty of seeing infants carefully wheeled “in small motor-car” with a nurse in attendance, for in their own country their youngsters are carried on the backs of the womenfolk, or more or less left to take their chance of life by the hut doors.
Of all they saw, then and thereafter, Ali and Sakari frankly concluded, times without number:
“Ki! White men go catch plenty plenty sense! All savvy work plenty fine. They be kings of work—all!” “All the people go catch money for this country. It plenty sweet past our country.”
And these were impressions they eventually carried back to spread far afield. And in this way, all unbeknown, the character of a nation may sometimes go forth broadcast before the world.
From London, Ali and Sakari accompanied me to my home in Scotland. They were made comfortable in an adjoining outhouse, and allotted a suitable place to make a camp-fire outdoors, where they delighted to sit and cook their meals in natural fashion.
Here, again, their pleasure in everything new afforded constant amusement.
Scotland does not lack for water. The river Tay, flowing near the house, was a feast indeed for eyes that well knew the drawbacks of an arid land, and the dreadful thirst of the desert. And the two natives were content to sit for hours, lost in contemplation of the swiftly flowing perpetual water that would represent unbounded prosperity if only it could be transported to their own land.
But this worship of water had its drawbacks when Ali made the gleeful discovery that all he had to do to get water in the house was to turn on a tap. Thereafter we caught him, repeatedly, standing wrapt before the scullery sink with taps full on watching to see:
“If them water be fit ever go run dry.”
When it rained thoughts always veered to the Sahara, and more than once Ali remarked:
“Allah send plenty rain for this country, and so He go forget the desert all the time.
“Suppose Sahara fit look this rain all the people catch plenty food.”
During the first morning at home I took the two natives on to the golf-course. For a little time they walked, feeling the closely knit turf under their feet, then they dropped to their knees and ran their hands over the grass, looking about them with delight.
“Ki! All be grass, master! All the ground find him plenty good. The eye sees not sand anywhere; not even between the blades.”
“Here be plenty plenty food for Rakumi” (camels).
“In the desert this be all sand for sure, and no grass. So, so, all time Allah give plenty good things for this country.”
On another occasion I took them out to look on while ferreting rabbits. I had also my retriever with me. When the first rabbit was shot, however, there was no need to send the dog to fetch it, for there was a wild scramble on the part of both the boys, who reached the “bunny” together, and straightway proceeded to cut its throat in true Mohammedan fashion. A second rabbit was treated in the same way, and then the two worthies were quite ready to set off home.
Half an hour later, while the rabbits were still warm, I found my followers beside their camp-fires in the yard with their prizes skinned and pierced on sticks, roasting before the blaze. This was their idea of a real feast of fresh meat, and the first they had had an opportunity of enjoying to the full since they had landed in the country.
But they were never difficult to please with food, and their usual dish, eaten twice a day, about 11 a.m. and again in the evening, consisted usually of butcher meat mixed with rice, potatoes, cloves, nutmeg, and plenty of olive oil. This strangely seasoned mixture was of their own choosing and was:
“Sweet past food for Kano.”
My wife tried to induce them to eat with knives and forks, but they were much more at home with their fingers.
Sheep are the choice animals for ceremonial sacrifice in their own land. Hence they cast longing eyes on the black-faced variety that pastured on the hills near my home, and kept asking me to kill one for them for Sadaka (almsgiving); and so that they might take the skin to Nigeria:
“To show all the people for Kano the plenty fine hair [wool] that live for Rago [sheep] in England.”
ALI AND SAKARI IN ENGLAND
In their newly found domestic life, one of the greatest delights to Ali and Sakari was to possess a whole bar of Sunlight soap, and they were seized with a passion for washing themselves and their clothes whenever they obtained such luxury.
Thus, in endless ways, they slowly absorbed the atmosphere of their novel surroundings with artless, unsullied minds and constant good-humour. They saw things as they existed with innocent penetration and directness; and ever they came back to such remarks as:
“White man go catch plenty plenty sense; everybody catch plenty clothes; everybody catch plenty to eat. This no be desert; this country sweet past all country.”
But they came to be greatly exercised because:
“When we go give this big news of England to people for Kano we will have so much to tell that plenty people no fit go believe us.”
Wherefore, to prove that, at least, they had been in this country, they made an extraordinary request. This was to remove two perfectly good teeth from their heads and have gold ones inserted, so that:
“When we go for Kano and people no fit believe we go look this country, we say, ‘Ah! ah! you be fool man. Look them Gold Teeth!’ And so they will be convinced; for our people no savvy them sense for put gold for head.”
Their request, which was a persistent one, was finally granted, and Ali and Sakari became the proud possessors of “gold for head.”
Ali had, then, only one great ambition left: to some day make the pilgrimage to Mecca, which is the dream of so many true Mohammedans:
“And then I be BIG past all men that live for Kano.”
Sakari, on the other hand, planned the disposal of the money he had earned:
“When I go Kano I buy another wife, fine past the one that live now.
“After that I go buy house from Emir.”
Asked how much a house would cost, he replied:
“They be different, sir! Some get £15; some get £10; some get £6 to £7. If buy him so, all the time he be my own.”
Then he added:
“But I no look for front [forward] too much, Master! for it will be like the Tenere [desert] when you are gone.”
They were faithful, able men, and when the parting came it was one of deep regret, filled with distressing artless emotion on the part of Ali and Sakari; which revealed the wonderful fidelity of these two fine henchmen of the Open Road, who had stuck with the expedition through thick and thin.
And it may be a fitting finish to give Ali’s description of the desert that we had left behind.
“Gentle people, I salute you! I give you news of the desert. It is a land of sand and wind and want. If you would visit it? tighten your belt plenty, as a giant. There is no lying down in comfort, for there is no medicine for the Sun by day, nor for the Great Winds by night. There is never plenty food, and if water is not found, then one dies—that is the desert!
“All my people ’fraid of that Sahara country, and plenty plenty people say we no fit go, because robber people, no food, no water, no sticks for fire, and all that.
“Only strong man fit go walka that country, and some strong men begin to die after we go start.
“Plenty people tell master he go die, but master only say: ‘All right, he go all same.’
“After I go look them desert, I think I no go live to see England. But Allah is kind! and I have looked on this country, which be plenty plenty fine—and I go my way in content.”
APPENDICES
APPENDIX I
SCIENTIFIC NOMENCLATURE OF SAHARAN BIRD LIFE
All numerals coincide with those before each common name in Chapter XII.
| 1. | Numida galeata galeata. |
| 2. | Coturnix coturnix coturnix. |
| 3. | Fulica atra atra. |
| 4. | Pterocles senegalensis senegalensis, and Pteroclessenegallus. |
| 5. | Pterocles coronatus coronatus. |
| 6. | Pterocles lichtensteinii targius. |
| 7. | Lissotis nuba. |
| 8. | Eupodotis arabs. |
| 9. | Hydrochelidon leucoptera. |
| 10. | Himantopus himantopus himantopus. |
| 11. | Tringa glareola. |
| 12. | Tringa hypoleucos. |
| 13. | Philomachus pugnax. |
| 14. | Capella gallinago gallinago. |
| 15. | Burhinus capensis maculosus. |
| 16. | Tringa ochropus. |
| 17. | Hoplopterus spinosus. |
| 18. | Cursorius cursor cursor. |
| 19. | Streptopelia senegalensis senegalensis. |
| 20. | Streptopelia roseogrisea roseogrisea. |
| 21. | Streptopelia turtur hoggara. |
| 22. | Œna capensis. |
| 23. | Columba livia targia. |
| 24. | Spatula clypeata. |
| 25. | Anas acuta acuta. |
| 26. | Anas crecca crecca. |
| 27. | Anas querquedula. |
| 28. | Dendrocygna viduata. |
| 29. | Sarkidiornis melanotus. |
| 30. | Alopochen ægyptiacus. |
| 31. | Nycticorax nycticorax nycticorax. |
| 32. | Ardea purpurea purpurea. |
| 33. | Butorides striatus atricapillus. |
| 34. | Abdimia abdimii. |
| 35. | Plegadis falcinellus falcinellus. |
| 36. | Necrosyrtes monachus monachus. |
| 37. | Neophron percnopterus percnopterus. |
| 38. | Gyps rüppellii rüppellii |
| 39. | Aquila rapax belisarius. |
| 40. | Milvus migrans parasitus. |
| 41. | Circus macrourus. |
| 42. | Melierax musicus neumanni. |
| 43. | Falco peregrinus pelegrinoides. |
| 44. | Falco tinnunculus tinnunculus. |
| 45. | Tyto alba affinis. |
| 46. | Bubo africanus cinerascens. |
| 47. | Bubo bubo desertorum. |
| 48. | Otus scops scops. |
| 49. | Otus leucotis leucotis. |
| 50. | Athene noctua solitudinis, subsp. n. |
| 51. | Clamator jacobinus pica. |
| 52. | Chrysococcyx caprius chrysochlorus. |
| 53. | Lophoceros erythrorhynchus erythrorhynchus. |
| 54. | Mesopicos goertæ goertæ. |
| 55. | Dendropicos minutus. |
| 56. | Coracias abyssinus minor. |
| 57. | Upupa epops somalensis. |
| 58. | Upupa epops epops. |
| 59. | Scoptelus aterrimus cryptostictus, subsp. n. |
| 60. | Merops albicollis albicollis. |
| 61. | Merops orientalis viridissimus. |
| 62. | Colius macrourus syntactus. |
| 63. | Pogoniulus chrysoconus schubotzi. |
| 64. | Trachyphonus margaritatus margaritatus. |
| 65. | Lybius vieilloti buchanani, subsp. n. |
| 66. | Caprimulgus eximius simplicior, subsp. n. |
| 67. | Caprimulgus europæus europæus. |
| 68. | Caprimulgus inornatus, and Macrodipteryx longipennis. |
| 69. | Apus affinis galilejensis. |
| 70. | Apus apus apus. |
| 71. | Apus pallidus pallidus. |
| 72. | Hirundo gordoni. |
| 73. | Hirundo rustica rustica. |
| 74. | Riparia obsoleta buchanani, subsp. n. |
| 75. | Phœnicurus phœnicurus phœnicurus. |
| 76. | Œnanthe œnanthe œnanthe. |
| 77. | Œnanthe deserti deserti. |
| 78. | Œnanthe leucopyga œgra. |
| 79. | Cercomela melanura airensis, subsp. n. |
| 80. | Saxicola rubetra rubetra. |
| 81. | Monticola saxatilis. |
| 82. | Cercotrichas podobe. |
| 83. | Turdoides fulvus buchanani, subsp. n. |
| 84. | Agrobates galactotes galactotes, and Agrobates galactotesminor. |
| 85. | Hypolais pallida reiseri. |
| 86. | Hypolais icterina. |
| 87. | Sylvia cantillans cantillans. |
| 88. | Sylvia communis communis. |
| 89. | Sylvia hortensis hortensis. |
| 90. | Phylloscopus collybita collybita. |
| 91. | Phylloscopus trochilus trochilus. |
| 92. | Spiloptila clamans. |
| 93. | Eremomela flaviventris alexanderi. |
| 94. | Sylvietta micrura brachyura. |
| 95. | Hedydipna platura platura. |
| 96. | Nectarinia pulchella ægra, subsp. n. |
| 97. | Remiz punctifrons. |
| 98. | Batis senegalensis. |
| 99. | Muscicapa striata striata. |
| 100. | Muscicapa hypoleuca hypoleuca. |
| 101. | Muscicapa albicollis. |
| 102. | Lanius excubitor leucopygos. |
| 103. | Lanius senator senator. |
| 104. | Nilaus afer afer. |
| 105. | Motacilla flava cinereocapilla, |
| Motacilla flava flava, and | |
| Motacilla flava thumbergi. | |
| 106. | Motacilla alba alba. |
| 107. | Anthus sordidus asbenaicus, subsp. n. |
| 108. | Anthus campestris campestris. |
| 109. | Anthus trivialis trivialis. |
| 110. | Anthus cervinus. |
| 111. | Alæmon alaudipes alaudipes. |
| 112. | Mirafra cheniana chadensis. |
| 113. | Ammomanes deserti mya, and Ammomanes deserti geyri, subsp.n. |
| 114. | Galerida cristata alexanderi. |
| 115. | Ammomanes phœnicurus arenicolor. |
| 116. | Calendula dunni. |
| 117. | Calandrella brachydacty hermonensis. |
| 118. | Eremopterix leucotis melanocephala. |
| 119. | Eremopterix frontalis frontalis. |
| 120. | Emberiza striolata sahari. |
| 121. | Passer simplex saharæ. |
| 122. | Passer luteus. |
| 123. | Serinus leucopygius riggenbachi. |
| 124. | Erythrospiza githaginea zedlitzi. |
| 125. | Sporopipes frontalis pallidior, subsp. n. |
| 126. | Ploceus vitellinus vitellinus. |
| 127. | Ploceus luteolus luteolus. |
| 128. | Aidemosyne cantans cantans. |
| 129. | Estrilda senegala brunneiceps. |
| 130. | Spreo pulcher pulcher. |
| 131. | Lamprocolius chalybeus hartlaubi. |
| 132. | Corvus albus. |
| 133. | Corvus corax ruficollis. |
| 134. | Corvus rhipiduras. |
| ADDITIONAL BIRD LIFE FROM THEWESTERN SUDAN | |
| 135. | Struthio camelus camelus. |
| 136. | Ptilopachus petrosus brehmi. |
| 137. | Francolinus clappertoni clappertoni, and |
| Francolinus bicalcaratus bicalcaratus. | |
| 138. | Pterocles quadricinctus quadricinctus. |
| 139. | Ortyxelos meiffreni. |
| 140. | Otis senegalensis senegalensis. |
| 141. | Sarciophorus tectus tectus. |
| 142. | Cursorius cursor cursor. |
| 143. | Turtur abyssinicus delicatulus. |
| 144. | Streptopelia decipiens shelleyi. |
| 145. | Streptopelia vinacea vinacea. |
| 146. | Columba guinea guinea. |
| 147. | Treron waalia. |
| 148. | Bulbulcus ibis ibis. |
| 149. | Ardea melanocephala. |
| 150. | Threskiornis æthiopicus æthiopicus. |
| 151. | Circaëtus gallicus. |
| 152. | Chelictinia riocourii. |
| 153. | Butastur rufipennis. |
| 154. | Melierax gabar niger. |
| 155. | Gymnogenys typica. |
| 156. | Falco chicquera ruficollis. |
| 157. | Accipiter badius sphenurus. |
| 158. | Falco biarmicus abyssinicus. |
| 159. | Otus senegalensis. |
| 160. | Glaucidium perlatum. |
| 161. | Centropus senegalensis senegalensis. |
| 162. | Clamator glandarius. |
| 163. | Lophoceros nasutus nasutus. |
| 164. | Chizærhis africana. |
| 165. | Poicephalus senegalus versteri. |
| 166. | Campethera punctuligera punctuligera. |
| 167. | Coracias nævia nævia. |
| 168. | Eurystomus afer afer. |
| 169. | Halcyon chelicuti eremogiton, subsp. n. |
| 170. | Lybius dubius. |
| 171. | Irrisor erythrorhynchus guineensis. |
| 172. | Scotornis climacurus. |
| 173. | Tachornis parvus parvus. |
| 174. | Hirundo daurica domicella. |
| 175. | Hirundo albigularis æthiopica. |
| 176. | Œnanthe hispanica melanoleuca. |
| 177. | Myrmecocichla æthiops buchanani, subsp. n. |
| 178. | Turdoides plebejus anomalus, subsp. n. |
| 179. | Acrocephalus scirpaceus scirpaceus. |
| 180. | Phylloscopus bonelli bonelli |
| 181. | Prinia mistacea mistacea. |
| 182. | Eremomela pusilla. |
| 183. | Camaroptera brevicaudata chrysocnemis. |
| 184. | Cisticola cisticola aridula. |
| 185. | Cinnyris senegalensis senegalensis. |
| 186. | Zosterops senegalensis senegalensis. |
| 187. | Tchitrea viridis ferreti. |
| 188. | Harpolestes senegalus senegalus. |
| 189. | Laniarius barbarus barbarus. |
| 190. | Prionops plumatus haussarum, subsp. n. |
| 191. | Corvinella corvina corvina. |
| 192. | Emberiza flaviventris flavigaster. |
| 193. | Gymnoris pyrgita pallida. |
| 194. | Petronia dentata buchanani, subsp. n. |
| 195. | Serinus mozambicus hartlaubi. |
| 196. | Textor albirostris albirostris. |
| 197. | Steganura aucupum aucupum. |
| 198. | Hypochera chalybeata neumanni |
| 199. | Pyromelana franciscana franciscana. |
| 200. | Amadina fasciata fasciata. |
| 201. | Pytelia melba citerior. |
| 202. | Estrilda cinerea. |
| 203. | Uræginthus bengalus bengalus. |
| 204. | Lamprotornis caudatus. |
| 205. | Cinnyricinclus leucogaster leucogaster. |
| 206. | Buphagus africanus. |
| 207. | Cryptorhina afra. |
APPENDIX II
SCIENTIFIC NOMENCLATURE OF SAHARAN ANIMAL LIFE
All numerals coincide with those before each common name in Chapter XIII.
| 1. | Ammotragus lervia angusi, subsp. n. |
| 2. | Gazella dama damergouensis, subsp. n. |
| 3. | Gazella dorcas dorcas. |
| 4. | Oryx algazel algazel |
| 5. | Addax nasomaculatus. |
| 6. | Phacochœrus æthiopicus africanus. |
| 7. | Papio nigeriæ. |
| 8. | Pipistrellus kuhli |
| 9. | Scoteinus schlieffeni. |
| 10. | Rhinopoma cystops. |
| 11. | Paraechinus deserti. |
| 12. | Felis haussa, sp. n. |
| 13. | Felis margarita. (Rediscovered after 65 years.) |
| 14. | Genetta dongolana. |
| 15. | Caracal caracal pœcilotis, subsp. n. |
| 16. | Herpestes phœnicurus Saharæ, subsp. n. |
| 17. | Hyæna hyæna. |
| 18. | Canis riparius. |
| 19. | Vulpes pallida harterti, subsp. n. |
| 20. | Vulpes rüppelli cæsia, subsp. n. |
| 21. | Fennecus zerda. |
| 22. | Mellivora buchanani, sp. n. |
| 23. | Euxerus erythropus agadius, subsp. n. |
| 24. | Claviglis olga, sp. n. |
| 25. | Gerbillus pyramidum. |
| 26. | Gerbillus gerbillus (group). |
| 27. | Dipodillus campestris. |
| 28. | Dipodillus garamantis. |
| 29. | Desmodilliscus buchanani, sp. n. |
| 30. | Meriones schousbœi tuareg, subsp. n. |
| 31. | Meriones libycus caudatus. |
| 32. | Psammomys algiricus. |
| 33. | Mastomys, sp. |
| 34. | Acomys airensis, sp. n. |
| 35. | Acomys johannis. |
| 36. | Arvicanthis testicularis solatus, subsp. n. |
| 37. | Jaculus jaculus airensis, subsp. n. |
| 38. | Hystrix ærula, sp. n. |
| 39. | Massoutiera rothschildi, sp. n. |
| 40. | Lepus canopus, sp. n. |
| 41. | Procavia buchanani, sp. n. |
| 42. | Orycteropus ater. |
| ADDITIONAL ANIMAL LIFE FROM THE WESTERNSUDAN | |
| 43. | Damaliscus korrigum. |
| 44. | Gazella rufifrons hasleri |
| 45. | Hipposideros caffer tephrus. |
| 46. | Epomophorus anurus. |
| 47. | Nycteris thebaica. |
| 48. | Atelerix spiculus. |
| 49. | Crocidura manni. |
| 50. | Ichneumia albicauda. |
| 51. | Canis anthus. |
| 52. | Vulpes pallida edwardsi |
| 53. | Pœcilictis rothschildi, sp. n. |
| 54. | Ictonyx senegalensis. |
| 55. | Euxerus erythropus chadensis. |
| 56. | Taterillus gracilis angelus, subsp. n. |
| 57. | Gerbillus nigeriæ, sp. n. |
| 58. | Steatomys cuppedius, sp. n. |
| 59. | Cricetomys gambiannus oliviæ. |
| 60. | Cricetomys buchanani, sp. n. |
| 61. | Leggada haussa, sp. n. |
| 62. | Lemniscomys olga, sp. n. |
| 63. | Arvicanthis testicularis. |
| 64. | Hystrix senegalica. |
INDEX
- A
- Abandoned villages, [57], [67]
- Accumulating sand, [65]
- Agades, [67]
- Ahaggar Mountains, [60]
- Ahaggar, Tuaregs of, [140]
- Aïr Mountains, [60]
- Algiers, [264]
- Ali in London, [281]
- Alifa, [138]
- Alleys, a maze of, [99]
- Altitudes, [60]
- Amud, [138]
- Amusing native stories, [279]
- An accident, [42]
- An explanation, [29]
- Animals of the Sahara, [237]
- Anxieties of travel, [16]
- Area of Sahara, [48]
- Areas, pre-Saharan, [52]
- Arui, [246]
- Awe-inspiring immensity, [51]
- Awful heat, [24], [81]
- Azawaren natives, [122]
- B
- Bad men hide, where, [107]
- Band, a hardened, [22]
- Barbary sheep, [246]
- Barbarism, to reclaim from, [273]
- Barren country, [59]
- Bartering salt, [127]
- Begging, [149]
- Berbers, Tuareg relation to, [131]
- Bezzou dies, [175]
- Big game, [238]
- Bilma, journey to, [77], [82]
- Bilma oasis, [113]
- Bird folklore, [221], [227]
- Bird life boundaries, [53]
- Birds of the Sahara, [217], [230]
- Biskra and the Sahara, [50]
- Brigandage, influence of, [139]
- Broken loads, [78]
- Buying equipment, [6]
- C
- Camel, a riding, [39]
- Camel bought, [37]
- Camel dies, [23]
- Camel, early life of, [34]
- Camel-food, [74], [76]
- Camel friendship, [41]
- Camel-men, [11]
- Camel names, [21]
- Camels, a massed camp of, [80]
- Camels, hungry, [87]
- Camels, loading, [12]
- Camels—men—food—water, [15]
- Camels, number of, [20]
- Camels pay heavy price, [22], [258]
- Camels, sick, [15], [25], [209]
- Camels, thousands of, [72], [77], [83]
- Camp and rest, [27], [87]
- Camp-fires, [199]
- Caravan routes, old, [66]
- Change, geographic, [52]
- Character of northern natives, [140]
- Cheerful spirits, [17]
- Chibikee, [138]
- Civilisation, influence of, [140]
- Clouds, [64]
- Cold, [88]
- Collections, first Saharan, [53], [218], [230], [253]
- Contest for existence, [16]
- Country pitiless, [22]
- Cracked feet, [90]
- Cultivation in oases, [187]
- Cunning defence, [101]
- D
- Dancers, a guild of, [193]
- Dangers of the trail, [137]
- Dawn, [17]
- Day closes, [26]
- Death of Feri N’Gashi, [44], [262]
- Decadence, [195]
- Decay of Sahara, [55], [64], [67]
- Decline of natives, [57], [162]
- Defence, cunning, [101]
- Den of forty thieves, [103]
- Departure, port of, [8]
- Depressed spirits, [163], [209]
- Desert, dread of the, [50], [287]
- Desert equipment, [72]
- Desert oases, [187]
- Desert of terrifying desolation, [81]
- Desert, the toll of the, [23]
- Desert, true, [59]
- Detail, importance of, [7]
- Diarabba, the, [193]
- Disappearing wild life, [56]
- Discovery of new species, [240]
- Distance travelled, [29], [261]
- Dividing line, the, [53]
- Dream, a strange, [214]
- Dreams materialise, [5]
- Dress of Tuaregs, [85], [146]
- Dromard, Lieutenant, [114]
- Dunes, [59]
- E
- Eastern sadness, [23]
- Efali, [88], [92]
- Encroaching sand, [51]
- Endless sea of sand, [17]
- Enemies, among, [167]
- Enemies, feudal, [141]
- Environment of a desert camp, [153]
- Equipment, buying, [6]
- Equipment for the desert, [72]
- Equipment, saddle, [13]
- Exhaustion, [89], [208], [258]
- Expedition’s natives, [20], [258]
- Explored, new ground, [29]
- F
- Fachi fort, [102]
- Fachi oasis, [82], [95]
- Fatigue, [26], [208]
- Fawna, [138]
- Feri N’Gashi, [21], [33], [40], [262]
- Feudal enemies, [141]
- Flies, [146]
- Flood, [204]
- Food and manners, [147]
- Food, camels’, [74], [76]
- Food desired, [259]
- Footsore, [90]
- Fuel, scarcity of, [191]
- G
- Game on the move, [243]
- Gazelle and antelope, [239]
- Geographic change, [52]
- Giants, a legend of, [115]
- Giraffe, [53], [56]
- Glover, T. A., [8], [258]
- Grave journey begun, a, [161]
- Gravel plains, [59]
- Great trek starts, a, [79]
- Grim fortifications, [97]
- Guide, Bilma, [88], [92]
- Guild of Dancers, [193]
- H
- Hamid of Timmersu, [84]
- Heat in the Sahara, [20], [24], [81]
- Highway for raiders, [95]
- History, legendary, [115]
- History of Bilma, [117]
- Home, [265]
- Homes in the wilderness, [143]
- Hungry camels, [87]
- I
- Immensity, awe-inspiring, [51]
- Importance of detail, [7]
- Important influences, [51]
- Influence of brigandage, [139]
- J
- Journey begun, a grave, [161]
- Journey to Bilma, [77]
- K
- Kahena, [158], [171]
- Katsina, [36]
- Kowar depression, [95], [115]
- L
- Landing, port of, [8]
- Land of antiquity, [50]
- Legendary history, [115]
- Legend surrounding skeletons, [182]
- Life of a camel, [33]
- Lion, [53], [56]
- Loading camels in dark, [12]
- Loads broken, [78]
- M
- Malaria, [147], [187]
- Manners, [147]
- Map, [46]
- March begun, [14]
- Massacre, a, [117]
- Masters of the sword, [133]
- Men and beasts suffer, [89]
- Men sick, [16], [258]
- Memorable nights, [86]
- Migrants, bird, [226]
- Milk a staple food, [147]
- Mohammedan prayer, [18]
- Mountains, remarkable, [60]
- Museum’s support, [5]
- Museum, Tring, [58]
- N
- Names of camels, [21]
- Natives, [63], [67], [84], [122]
- Natives, decline of, [57], [162]
- Natives with expedition, [20]
- Natron, [119]
- Nature of the Sahara, [59]
- New ground explored, [29]
- New species discovered, [240]
- Night, [26]
- Night camp, a, [87]
- Nomad possessions, [145]
- O
- Oases, desert, [187]
- Oasis fortified, [96]
- Oasis of Bilma, [82], [113]
- Oasis of Fachi, [82], [95]
- Old traveller, [88]
- Oppressed by raids, [118]
- Origin of Tuaregs, [150]
- Oryx, white, [245]
- Ostrich, [53], [56]
- Ouargla, [259]
- Outlawry, [134], [138], [157]
- P
- Pasturage, [63]
- Physical nature of Sahara, [59]
- Pidgin-English, [277]
- Pigeons, flocks of, [224]
- Pioneer, a, [4]
- Pitiless country, [22]
- Pitiless sun, [24], [81], [208]
- Plains of gravel, [59]
- Plan, bewildering, [99]
- Population declining, [57]
- Population, interior Sahara, [67]
- Port of departure, [8]
- Port of destination, [264]
- Prayer, Mohammedan, [18]
- Pre-Saharan areas, [51]
- Prolific salt-pits, [119]
- Prolonged strain, [91]
- R
- Race, a strange, [123]
- Raid, a, [157]
- Raider, a, [133]
- Raiders, [96], [118], [123], [134], [138], [213]
- Rain, [147], [201], [241]
- Rainfall, [63]
- Rail-head in Algeria, [261]
- Rali, [157]
- Religion, [18], [51], [150], [154], [194]
- Rest and camp, [27]
- Revival unlikely, [65]
- Rhamadan, [154]
- Riding saddle, [13]
- Rifles replacing swords, [137]
- Rising of 1916, [136]
- Robbers’ camp, the, [165]
- Rock disintegration, [65]
- Rock drawings, [211]
- Rodd, Francis, [8]
- Rogue, a, [106]
- Routes, old caravan, [66]
- Ruse, a, [173]
- S
- Saddling up takes time, [13]
- Sadness, eastern, [23], [153]
- Sahara from Biskra, [50]
- Sahara map, [46]
- Saharan collections, first, [53]
- Saharan areas, pre-, [52]
- Sahara, physical nature of, [59]
- Sahara’s decay, [55], [57], [64], [195]
- Sahara’s life, key to, [194]
- Sahara’s population, [67]
- Sahara, vastness of, [48]
- Sakari in London, [281]
- Salt as currency, [111], [127]
- Salt, method of working, [120], [125]
- Sand, discomfort of [145], [192]
- Sand-dunes, [59]
- Sand encroaching, [51], [65], [192]
- Sandstorm, [206]
- Sea of Sand, [17]
- Sedentary people, [185]
- Seeking Kahena, [171]
- Siege jars, [103]
- Slave caravans, [66]
- Slaves, Tuareg, [142], [185]
- Social fabric of Sahara, [189]
- Speed of camel travel, [82]
- Spirits, depressed, [163], [209]
- Stars, [86], [257]
- Start, time of, [6]
- Storms, [202], [206], [241]
- Strain, prolonged, [91]
- Strange natives, [122]
- Strategy, [169]
- Sun-glare, [89]
- Sun, pitiless, [24], [81], [208]
- Sun, the rising, [18]
- T
- Taralum, the, [71]
- Tassili, [59], [220]
- Terrifying desolation, [81]
- Thousands of camels, [72], [77], [83]
- Tigguida n’Tisem, [121]
- Time of start, [6]
- Tobacco, craving for, [148], [264]
- Toilers, the, [191]
- Toll of the desert, [23]
- Touggourt, [261]
- Tracking, skilful, [159]
- Tragic decay, [67]
- Travel, formation of, [83]
- Travel, reason for, [199]
- Trek starts, a great, [79]
- Tribal names, [141]
- Tribes, [63], [67], [115], [122], [131], [140], [191]
- Tring Museum, [53]
- Tropical boundary, [53], [54]
- Tuareg dress, [85], [146]
- Tuareg encampments, [143], [145]
- Tuareg features, [151]
- Tuaregs, [63], [67], [84], [131], [140]
- Tuaregs idle, [164]
- Tuareg slaves, [142], [185]
- Tuareg villages, [189]
- Tuareg women, [146]
- V
- Vastness of Sahara, [48]
- Veil, the people of the, [131]
- Villages abandoned, [57], [67]
- Villages, Tuareg, [189]
- Vultures, [225]
- W
- War-wise people, [131]
- Water, [63], [144], [205], [210], [223]
- Well, an old, [57]
- White Feather, [21], [40]
- Wilderness homes, [143]
- Wild life, [217], [237]
- Wild life disappearing, [56]
- Wind, [81], [145]
- Wizard, the, [105]
- Women, Tuareg, [146]
- Y
- Yofa, [158], [177]
- Z
- Zoological boundary, [5]
- Zoological purpose, [53]
- Zoological collections, [217]
ERRATA
p. [41], line 2 up: for “to great count” read “too great to count.”
p. [72], line 11: for “thes pectacle” read “the spectacle.”
p. [178], line 7 up: for “spas” read “pass.”
p. [286], line 18 up: for “[forward to much,]” read “[forward] too much.”
The Author of this Book,
Captain ANGUS BUCHANAN, M.C., F.R.S.G.S.
has written three other books in which those who have enjoyed ‘Sahara’ will be interested.
EXPLORATION OF AÏR
OUT OF THE WORLD NORTH
OF NIGERIA
With Numerous Photographs by
the Author and a Map. 16s. net.
‘This graphic record of his travel and adventures will interest a public far larger than the purely scientific one anxious to learn of new discoveries.’—The Times.
‘Mr. Buchanan’s style is vivid and his narrative racy; he touches but lightly on the hardships he had to endure in this arid section of the African continent.’—Nature.
‘Captain Buchanan is one of those travellers who can write, and he has produced a capital book about his experiences, illustrated by a number of good photographs.’—The Outlook.
‘This is one of the best traveller’s books which has been published lately. It derives its interest both from the places through which Captain Buchanan travelled, and from the way in which he describes them. He has the gift of a perfectly individual and natural style, which allows him to draw vivid pictures of men, animals, and scenery.’—New Statesman.
‘Captain Angus Buchanan, M.C., describes the country of the Tuaregs with charm and clarity, and illustrates the book with his own photographs.’—The Graphic.
‘The book before us contains a great deal of information, put forward with remarkable clearness. . . . The descriptions of the appearance and habits of these various animals is always vividly put. . . . The whole narrative is “alive,” in addition to being, as has been said, a valuable contribution to geography, ethnology, and natural history.’—The Shooting Times.
‘We recommend this book to all who are interested in stories of travel. It is a straightforward account of a difficult and solitary undertaking perseveringly carried out—and it is not only because Captain Buchanan tells us that he and his camels travelled for over 1,400 miles, that we are left with a vivid sense of the vast distances and boundless empty spaces of the Sahara.’—The Near East.
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, LONDON, W.I
By Captain Angus Buchanan, M.C., F.R.S.G.S.
WILD LIFE IN CANADA
Numerous Photographs by the Author.
Second Impression. 15s. net.
‘Captain Buchanan’s book has the rare charm of an exquisite simplicity, coupled with a fresh, almost boyish delight in his questing successes. . . . May “Caribou Antler” soon return to his beloved North, and give us yet another delightful book.’
The Sunday Times.
‘The record of his study of birds, beasts and fishes of the Far North is written not merely with scientific accuracy, but with a broad outlook that must interest alike the naturalist and the ordinary layman. . . . The book affords fascinating reading for young and old.’—The Daily Telegraph.
‘It is the treasure of the mind and the eye of a man of knowledge and sensibility, exploring beyond the white man’s frontier of Saskatchewan. . . . Commend it we can, and do, heartily.’
The Morning Post.
THREE YEARS OF WAR IN
EAST AFRICA
With a Foreword by LORD CRANWORTH
Numerous Photographs by the Author.
Second Impression. 12s. net.
‘A book which is singularly attractive and “African” all over. . . . His narrative is essentially the story of three years’ soldiering in Central Africa by a lover of the wild, a traveller in many lands, a naturalist and sportsman.’—The Times.
‘Captain Buchanan’s valuable book. . . . It is of great human interest as a record of the admirable work done by the author’s battalion.’—The Spectator.
‘Wonderfully interesting—the author gives thrilling accounts of the fighting, but the story is more that of a man possessing the spirit of adventure, an explorer of the wild, a lover of nature, and a sportsman.’—Naval and Military Record.
‘This well-written book is intensely inspiring as a study in British pluck.’—The Graphic.
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, LONDON, W.I