These two nations inhabit the deserts between Bornou, Fezzan, and Lower Egypt. They were first made known to us with some exactness by Hornemann’s and Lyon’s travels. The Tibbos or Tibbous roam through the eastern, and the Tuaticks (Tueregs) through the western, parts of the great desert. The first are called by the other tribes, from being in continual movement, “birds.” The Tuaricks are distinguished into those of Aghadez and those of Tagazi. They are often engaged as conductors of caravans, and in trade. Their language is the same as that of the Berbers; and they belong unquestionably to the number of the primitive Lybian nations. The Tuaricks present a remarkable physiological phenomenon. Different tribes among them are, according to the climate, white, yellowish, and even almost black; but all are without woolly hair or Negro features. (Exploration scientifique de l’Algérie, T. ii. p. 343.)
[9] p. 4.—“The Ship of the Desert.”
In oriental poems, the camel is called the land-ship, or the ship of the Desert (Sefynet-el-badyet); Chardin, Voyages, nouv. éd. par Langlès, 1811, T. iii. p. 376.
But the camel is not merely the carrier of the desert, and the link which, rendering communication between different countries possible, connects them with each other: he is also, as Carl Ritter has shewn in his excellent memoir on the sphere of diffusion of these animals, the principal and essential condition of the nomadic life of nations in the patriarchal stage of national development, in the hot parts of our planet where rain is either altogether wanting or very infrequent. No animal’s life is so closely associated by natural bonds with a particular stage of the developement of the life of man,—a connection historically established for several thousand years,—as the life of the camel among the Bedouin tribes (Asien, Bd. viii. Abth. i. 1847, S. 610 und 758). “The camel was entirely unknown to the cultivated Carthaginian nation through all the centuries of their flourishing existence, until the destruction of their city. The Marusians first brought it into military use, in the train of armies, in Western Lybia, in the times of the Cæsars; perhaps in consequence of its employment in commercial operations in the valley of the Nile by the Ptolemies. The Guanches, the inhabitants of the Canary Islands and probably related to the Berber race, were not acquainted with the camel before the 15th century, when it was introduced by Norman conquerors and settlers. In the probably very limited communication of the Guanches with the Coast of Africa, the small size of the boats would prevent the transport of large animals. The true Berber race, diffused throughout the interior of Northern Africa, and to which the Tibbos and Tuaricks, as already mentioned, belong, owes doubtless to the use of the camel throughout the Lybian desert and its Oases, not only the advantages of intercommunication, but also the preservation of its national existence to the present day. On the other hand, the negro races never, of their own accord, made any use of the camel; it was only in company with the conquering expeditions and proselyting missions of the Bedouins, carrying their prophet’s doctrines over the whole of Northern Africa, that the useful animal of the Nedjid, of the Nabatheans, and of all the countries inhabited by Aramean races, spread to the westward and was introduced among the black population. The Goths took camels as early as the fourth century to the Lower Istros (the Danube), and the Ghaznevides conveyed them in much larger numbers as far as India and the banks of the Ganges.” We must distinguish two epochs in the diffusion of the camel throughout the northern part of the African continent; one under the Ptolemies, operating through Cyrene on the whole of the north-west of Africa; and the Mohammedan epoch of the conquering Arabs.
It has long been a question, whether those domestic animals which have been the earliest companions of mankind—oxen, sheep, dogs, and camels—are still to be met with in a state of original wildness. The Hiongnu, in Eastern Asia, belong to the nations who earliest tamed and trained wild camels as domestic animals. The compiler of the great Chinese work, Si-yu-wen-kien-lo, (Historia Regionum occidentalium, quæ Si-yu vocantur, visu et auditu cognitarum,) affirms that in the middle of the 18th century wild camels, as well as wild horses and wild asses, still wandered in East Turkestan. Hadji Chalfa, in his Turkish Geography, written in the 17th century, speaks of the frequent chase of the wild camel in the high plains of Kashgar, Turfan, and Khotan. Schott translates, from a Chinese author, Ma-dschi, that wild camels are to be found in the countries to the north of China and west of the Hoang-ho, in Ho-si or Tangut. Cuvier alone (Règne Animal, T. i. p. 257), doubts the present existence of wild camels in the interior of Asia. He believes they have merely “become wild;” because Calmucks, and others having Buddhistic religious affinities with them, set camels and other animals at liberty, in order “to acquire to themselves merit for the other world.” According to Greek witnesses of the times of Artemidorus and Agatharchides of Cnidus, the Ailanitic Gulf of the Nabatheans was the home of the wild Arabian camel. (Ritter’s Asien, Bd. viii. s. 670, 672, and 746.) The discovery of fossil camel bones of the ancient world by Captain Cautley and Doctor Falconer, in 1834, in the sub-Himalaya range of the Sewalik hills, is peculiarly deserving of notice. These bones were found with other ancient bones of mastodons, of true elephants, of giraffes, and of a gigantic land tortoise (Colossochelys), twelve feet in length and six feet in height. (Humboldt, Cosmos, Engl. ed. vol. i. p. 268.) This camel of the Ancient World has received the name of Camelus sivalensis, but does not show any considerable difference from the still living Egyptian and Bactrian camels with one and two humps. Forty camels have very recently been introduced into Java, having been brought there from Teneriffe. (Singapore Journal of the Indian Archipelago, 1847, p. 206.) The first experiment has been made in Samarang. In like manner, reindeer have only been introduced into Iceland from Norway in the course of the last century. They were not found there when the island was settled, notwithstanding the proximity to East Greenland, and the existence of floating masses of ice. (Sartorius von Waltershausen physisch-geographische Skizze von Island, 1847, S. 41.)
[10] p. 4.—“Between the Altai and the Kuen-lün.”
The great highland, or, as it is commonly called, the mountain plateau of Asia, which includes the lesser Bucharia, Songarei, Thibet, Tangut, and the Mogul country of the Chalcas and Olotes, is situated between the 36th and 48th degrees of latitude, and the meridians of 81° and 118° E. long. It is an erroneous view to represent this part of the interior of Asia as a single undivided mountainous gibbosity, continuous like the elevated plains of Quito and Mexico, and elevated from seven to nine thousand feet above the level of the sea. That there is not in this sense any undivided mountain plateau in the interior of Asia, has already been shewn by me in my “Researches respecting the Mountains of Northern India.” (Humboldt, Premier Mémoire sur les Montagnes de l’Inde, in the Annales de Chimie et de Physique, T. iii. 1816, p. 303; Second Mémoire, T. xiv. 1820, p. 5–55.)
My views concerning the geographical range of plants, and the mean degree of temperature requisite for certain kinds of cultivation, had early led me to entertain considerable doubts as to the continuity of a great Tartarian plateau between the Himalaya and the Altai. Writers continued to characterise this plateau as it had been described by Hippocrates (De Ære et Aquis, § xcvi. p. 74), as “the high and naked plains of Scythia, which, without being crowned with mountains, rise and extend to beneath the constellation of the Bear.” Klaproth has the undeniable merit of having been the first to make us acquainted with the true position, extent, and direction of two great and entirely distinct chains of mountains—the Kuen-lün and the Thian-schan, in a part of Asia which is better entitled to the name of “central” than Kashmeer, Baltistan, and the Sacred Lakes of Thibet, (the Manasa and the Ravanahrada). The importance of the Celestial Mountains, the Thian-schan, had indeed been already surmised by Pallas, without his being aware of their volcanic nature; but this highly-gifted investigator of nature, hampered by the then prevailing hypothesis of a dogmatic and fantastic geology, firmly believing in “chains of mountains radiating from a centre,” saw in the Bogdo Oola (the Mons Augustus, or culminating point of the Thian-schan) such a “central node, from whence all the Asiatic mountain chains diverge in rays, and which dominates over all the rest of the continent!”
The erroneous idea of a single vast elevated plain occupying the whole of central Asia, the “Plateau de la Tartarie,” took its rise in France, in the latter half of the 18th century. It was the result of historical combinations, and of a not sufficiently attentive study of the writings of the celebrated Venetian traveller, as well as of the naïve relations of those diplomatic monks who, in the 13th and 14th centuries, (thanks to the unity and extent of the Mogul empire at that time) were able to traverse almost the whole of the interior of the continent, from the ports of Syria and of the Caspian Sea to the shores of the Pacific on the east coast of China. If a more exact acquaintance with the language and ancient literature of India had dated farther back among us than half a century, the hypothesis of this central plateau, occupying the wide space between the Himalaya and the south of Siberia, would no doubt have had adduced in its support an ancient and venerable authority from that source. The poem of the Mahabharata appears, in the geographical fragment Bhischmakanda, to describe “Meru” not so much as a mountain as an enormous elevation of the land, which supplies with water at once the sources of the Ganges, those of the Bhadrasoma (Irtysh), and those of the forked Oxus. These physico-geographical views were intermingled in Europe with ideas of other kinds, and with mythical reveries relating to the origin of mankind. It was said that the elevated regions from which the waters first retreated, (geologists in general were long averse to the theory of elevation), must also have received the first germs of civilisation. Hebraizing systems of geology, and views connected with the Deluge and supported by local traditions, favoured these assumptions. The intimate connection between time and space, between the beginnings of social order and the plastic character of the surface of the earth, lent to the supposed “uninterrupted Plateau of Tartary” a peculiar importance, and an almost moral interest. Acquisitions of positive knowledge, the late matured fruit of scientific travels and direct measurements, as well as of a fundamental study of Asiatic languages and literature especially those of China, have gradually demonstrated the inaccuracies and exaggerations of those wild hypotheses. The mountain plains (ὁροπέδια) of Central Asia are no longer regarded as the cradle of civilization and the primitive seat of all arts and sciences. The ancient nation of Bailly’s Atlantis, happily described by d’Alembert as “having taught us everything but their own name and existence,” has vanished. The supposed inhabitants of the Oceanic Atlantis had already been treated, in the time of Posidonius, in a no less derisive manner. (Strabo, lib. ii. p. 102; and lib. xiii. p. 598, Casaub.)
A plateau of considerable but very unequal elevation, having the names of Gobi, Scha-mo (sand desert), Scha-ho (sand river), and Hanhai, runs in a SSW.-NNE. direction, with little interruption, from Eastern Thibet towards the mountain knot of Kentei south of Lake Baikal. This swelling of the ground is probably anterior to the elevation of the mountain chains by which it is intersected; it is situated, as already remarked, between 79° and 116° long. from Paris, (81° and 118° E. from Greenwich). Measured at right angles to its longitudinal axis, its breadth is, in the south between Ladak, Gertop, and H’lassa, (the seat of the great Lama,) 720 geographical miles; between Hami in the Celestial Mountains, and the great bend of the Hoang-ho near the In-schan chain, hardly 480; and in the north, between the Khanggai, where the great city of Karakhorum once stood, and the chain of Khin-gan-Petscha, which runs north and south (in the part of the Gobi traversed in travelling from Kiachta by Urga to Pekin) 760 geographical miles. The whole extent of this swelling ground, which must be carefully distinguished from the far more elevated mountain range to the east, may be approximately estimated, taking its inflections into account, at about three times the area of France. The map of the mountain ranges and volcanoes of Central Asia (Carte der Bergketten und Vulkane von Central-Asien), constructed by me in 1839, but not published until 1843, shows in the clearest manner the hypsometric relations between the mountain ranges and the Gobi plateau. It was founded on the critical employment of all the astronomical determinations accessible to me, and on a vast amount of orographic description, in which Chinese literature is beyond measure rich, examined at my request by Klaproth and Stanislas Julien. My map marks the mean direction and the height of the mountain chains, and represents the leading features of the interior of the continent of Asia, from 30° to 60° degrees of north latitude, and between the meridians of Kherson and Pekin. It differs materially from any previously published map.