Through Timbuctu and across the great Sahara /

by A. H. W. Haywood

The Sergeant of Tirailleurs in Charge of my Escort, and my Two Guides to Kidal

Three distinct types are here depicted. On the left a white-bearded Arab of the Kountah tribe, whose handsome face and picturesque garb make him a fascinating figure. In the centre is the sergeant of my escort, a stalwart Bambarra with the distinctive thick lips and snub features of the negroid races. The third man is a Tuareg, one of that curious tribe which wanders in the Central Sahara, shunning contact with the rest of mankind to an extraordinary degree.

I did not leave Kidal till the 8th of May. I had to reorganize my caravan here. The officer in charge of the post had fortunately been able to retain the services of a guide for me, and the same man was willing to let me his camels if we could agree as to terms.

The day after my arrival I had an interview with Mohamed Ben Kaid Kaddour, as the guide was called. He was an Arab trader who did business between Insalah and the Adrar country. He had not intended to return to Insalah till the cool season commenced, about September, but owing to some urgent private affairs he had just been recalled to the northern part of the desert. The man was a shrewd Arab, about thirty years old, a keen trader, and with the reputation of being a sure guide in the desert. The opportunity was a good one, so I decided to take it at any cost, for, owing to the time of year—it being the hottest part of the hot season—no caravans were travelling, and I should be extremely unlikely to get another guide to take me.

After a good deal of bargaining matters were settled. I hired four baggage camels and one “mehari,” or riding-camel, from Mohamed, who agreed to furnish one camel driver for the party and guide me safely across the desert to Insalah for a sum amounting to about twenty-three pounds. I naturally stipulated that he should not be paid until the end of the journey. It seemed to me a good plan to hire the camels from the man who would act as guide, for in this way he had more interest in keeping them in good condition. It was to his advantage to get them fit to Insalah, but certainly I was rather in the hands of my guide should he prove unscrupulous. If he wished to make away with me en route, and abscond with my despatch box and baggage, it might be hard for me to prevent it, and it would be difficult for the authorities to catch him and punish him for his crime. However, I was determined to be very wary, always sleeping with one eye open and my firearms close beside me.

The other member of the caravan was my servant Musa, while the guide asked permission to bring four camel loads of merchandise and a young camel he wished to sell at Insalah.

At Kidal I saw some of the finest camels I had yet seen; these belonged to the detachment stationed at the post, and had been bought from the Ifora Tuaregs. These people breed a very fine class of “mehari,” their riding-camels being renowned for their power and endurance throughout the Central and Western Sahara. The Iforas are the Tuaregs who wander in the Adrar country, and it was at Kidal that I first came into contact with this interesting race of nomads.

The chief peculiarity of these people is that they always wear a veil over the lower portion of their faces, which conceals all the features except the eyes, and sometimes the ears. This veil is made of blue stuff, generally of the well-known “guinée.” It is called a “litham.” The use of a “litham” is obvious to anyone who has travelled in the desert, for it serves to prevent the wearer from being choked by the clouds of sand which are ever blowing about in the Sahara. Moreover, it prevents thirst to a remarkable extent. It is a most essential article of kit for the desert traveller, and I soon found myself obliged to adopt it. I often used to think that my appearance in a civilized country would have caused some astonishment and, probably, not a little merriment. My face was so swathed in strange objects that very little of it was visible. I think I might fairly have beaten a motorist in the strange disguises on my features. My eyes were hidden beneath huge blue sun-glasses, while the remainder of my face was entirely obscured by the “litham,” which, in my case, generally consisted of a handkerchief. I found the same objection existed to the “litham” as to the glasses, but that was quite a minor discomfort, and one very soon forgotten.

The Iforas share the usual dislike of the Tuareg to contact with mankind, and with Europeans in particular. They possess an unenviable reputation as first-class looters and highwaymen. A weakly guarded caravan passing through certain parts of Adrar runs a very good chance of being attacked and looted. But in this respect the Iforas are by no means the worst offenders amongst desert tribes. They are said to be plucky in war, but will avoid fighting when possible.