Exploration of Aïr

by Angus Buchanan

On the following day we again travelled a long distance, camping by the light of the moon, about 9 p.m., at the well named Tadélaka, being then only about 10 miles short of the small outpost at Aderbissinat. Throughout the day the type of bush country continued the same, in aspect and insomuch that there was no visible sign that it is inhabited, though we are aware that there are a few Tuaregs, and their herds hidden in the inscrutable land somewhere.

A LONELY TUAREG CAMP IN THE BUSH.

SUNDOWN IN THE DESERT.

Next morning, 2nd April, we made the short journey to Aderbissinat and halted for the day.

What a strange place Aderbissinat is: the whole no larger than a small farm-dwelling enclosed within a square zareba, which might be the fence of a crofter’s garden, while immediately outside are the wells and one or two temporary native shelters. About the wells are grouped some lean listless cattle and goats, and some tired donkeys and camels belonging to passing caravans. How well they fit the desolate scene! Listen to the plaintive lowing of the thirsty cattle, not the common cry of a domestic beast, but a wild strange sound peculiar to the land—a deep rumbling forced-out bellow that tails away with terrible insistency to a wail of want so clear and expressive in sound that even humans can easily comprehend that the animals are in dire distress. The simple unadorned scene, which is but a tiny speck of habitation in a boundless virgin space, lies in a hollow, so that approaching it either from the south or the north one is almost upon it before it is discovered.

If any of my fellow-men should ever doubt the constancy of the old-fashioned prestige of the white race in Africa, which goes to uphold peace in the wildest corners of the continent, I should like to direct their attention to such a place as this. Aderbissinat stands alone in one of the bleakest spots that could well be imagined, and isolated to such an extent that, if it happened to be attacked, it might easily be wiped out in a night and its nearest neighbour remain in ignorance of the fact for days—Tanout lies 75½ miles south, and Agades 93½ miles north, while both flanks are open to unlimited unguarded ranges. Yet all the force within this tiny Fort is one French officer and one sergeant, and a mere handful of native troops. Is it conceivable that it is such a force as this that intimidates the unreliable natives of the immediate neighbourhood to uphold peacefulness, or that keeps away the powerful bands of robbers from the north? I think not; rather is the cause to be found in native tradition of the prowess of the white race, and their far-reaching rule. It is not of an immediate act of rashness that the usual native fanatic is afraid, but of the inevitable consequences that they know would sweep in upon them once they had raised the white man’s wrath. So that, in a broad sense, it is simply this tradition of great power that safeguards Aderbissinat, and other undermanned posts of the kind that are dreadfully remote yet not hopelessly beyond the reach of the long arm of justice; and therefore Tradition represents an unseen strength that is unrecorded on any roll, yet is reliable and useful as an army of men, impotent though it be except in significant influence.

Diminutive though it is, Aderbissinat Fort serves more than one purpose: it guards a precious store of water on the edge of the desert, which furnishes half the water-supply that is necessary for caravans to carry on the journey to Agades, for the intervening desert is waterless except for one well at Abellama; it serves as a blockhouse half way between Tanout and Agades, and therefore is protection to the highway; while it is also an important relay and checking station for the transport of the large supplies, chiefly grain, that are constantly going north to Agades to feed the considerable forces that are stationed there. Native escort, on foot, invariably accompanies those caravans of supplies, and the duty, burdened with rifle and accoutrements, is a very hard one in such a climate; so much so, that it is only by a series of relays that the escort for the total journey is successfully maintained. Thus, escort from Tanout is relieved at Aderbissinat, and fresh men take on the journey to Agades. Also, on occasions, the animals of a caravan are changed at Aderbissinat and others complete the journey.

Therefore, when all things are considered, Aderbissinat is of much importance to the transport of the country, and to the existence of Agades, and I am inclined to think that it has always held something of this importance as an outlying gateway to Aïr, for all Tuaregs, whether old or young, claim it to be within the southern boundary of their territory, though it is fully 100 miles from the foot of the Aïr mountains; and no doubt it is in consequence of their claim that the French authorities recognise it as within Aïr at the present time.