Through Timbuctu and across the great Sahara /

by A. H. W. Haywood

Tuareg Hovels at In Ouzel

These miserable shelters consist of a few sticks supporting some goatskins and ragged cloths. The inhabitants have to crawl in on hands and knees; nor is there standing-room inside. They are frequently blown down by the terrible sandstorms which rage constantly here, but possibly their very lowness safeguards them to some extent from destruction by these hurricanes of sand.

After the trying times of the last two days both the camels and we were greatly in need of a rest, and so it was decided to halt for three or four days at In Ouzel. This was all the more necessary as the next stage of our journey would take us through the Tanezrouft, and to attempt to cross this inhospitable region with inferior camels would be madness.

We had now passed the rather indefinite boundary between the portion of Sahara under the jurisdiction of French West Africa and that part of the great desert which came under the sphere of the Governor of Algeria. The boundary lay between Bourassa and Taoundert, running approximately along the 21st parallel. The country in which we now were was no longer the land of the Ifora Tuaregs. It was uninhabited except for short periods in the year, when suitable grazing might be found for a small number of camels. At such periods a heterogeneous collection of desert nomads used to make it their temporary head-quarters. These might consist of a small caravan of Arabs and a few Tuaregs of the Hoggar tribe. The latter belong to a mountainous desert country lying to the north-east of In Ouzel.

When I arrived at In Ouzel there were some half-dozen of these people still there, although the time of year was not any longer favourable, and they were already preparing to leave. As nearly all the pasturage had been eaten up, there was not much left for our sorely tried camels, and in any case a couple of them appeared too exhausted for further marching until they had had a long rest. Mahomed said he thought the short halt we proposed to make would be sufficient to get the remainder of the caravan in marching trim, and we arranged with the nomads just departing for the hire of two suitable baggage camels to replace our jaded beasts. The new camels were indeed a great acquisition, for they had been in their pasturage for the past three months, were now in good condition, and boasting of fine big humps.

My recollections of In Ouzel are the reverse of pleasant. I pitched my tent on an open space not far from the well, and close to a dead mimosa, from which I vainly hoped to get a little shade during the day. Musa rigged himself up a kitchen with the help of some articles of baggage with one of my tarpaulins thrown over them, while all the remainder of my kit was stacked in view of the tent, as robbers have always to be feared in the desert. Things appeared fairly ship-shape, and I was looking forward to the rest at In Ouzel, but the day after my arrival I had an attack of fever which laid me on a bed of sickness. It was at this moment that my troubles began. From that day until our departure we had a series of terrible sandstorms.

My tent was blown down right at the commencement, and the force of the wind was so terrific that attempts to pitch it again were hopelessly futile. Clouds of sand enveloped my bedclothes and myself. The suffocating heat of the desert air was intense, while the sand choked anyone who dared to open his mouth for an instant. My temperature went up rapidly and refused to come down. When Musa tried to give me a glass of cold tea or water it immediately became filled with sand. I used to hide my head under the bedclothes in desperate efforts to keep the sand-laden air from buffeting my face. In all my existence I do not think I have ever experienced such a miserable time as I did at In Ouzel. Eating, drinking, and sleeping were impossible, and all the time the fever racked my limbs and made my head throb till I thought I should go mad. I had long since discarded my mosquito curtain, so I had not even that to ward off some of the penetrating clouds of sand, although in the gales that were blowing I hardly suppose it would have been much use, even supposing it had not been torn to pieces immediately. Mahomed was most solicitous, but there was nothing he could do for me. It was not till the evening before our departure that the fever left me, and I was glad to get out of my bed of sand, feeling very weak and shaky.

The nomads encamped here seemed to me to lead a remarkably wretched existence. Both Arabs and Tuaregs lived in tiny hovels made of mimosa branches with grass roofs. The doorway was so low that the occupant had positively to crawl in on hands and knees. The structures were so frailly put together that they were continually being blown down by the sandstorms, but possibly the low height of the hut made it a little less susceptible to the wind than it would otherwise have been. Some of them boasted of an additional covering of a few ragged goatskins. Inside, the state of dirt and squalor was repulsive. I suppose that these desert people naturally wash little on account of the scarcity of water in the Sahara; certainly cleanliness is not one of their chief attributes.

At In Ouzel they owned a few wretched-looking sheep and goats, but the marvel was that even these could eke out an existence on the poor nourishment available. For them there was nothing but an occasional small tuft of coarse, dried-up grass. It was rather a pathetic sight to watch them grazing on it.

In the early morning they were led out by the shepherd across the undulating sandy surface of the desert, in search of food, and when one animal, more fortunate than the rest, espied one of these tufts he would start gobbling it up as quickly as he could. It was seldom, though, that he was allowed to have his meal to himself, for a number of his fellows would scamper off to dispute possession with him.