A peculiar change in the hot cloudless weather had occurred during the past two days. Yesterday, in the afternoon, there was high wind and some rain showers, while to-day, at the same hour, the sky was overclouded, and distant thunder rumbled, and there was again very high wind which wrecked my tarpaulin shade-shelter and rudely interrupted the bird-skinning on which I was employed at the time. Possibly Rains are now falling in Nigeria, where, I am told by the natives, they are about due. But Rains are not due in Aïr until July or August, if local information is to be trusted.
2nd May.—Away again at peep of daylight, but to-day had no luck. The Chief and I followed the trail of a very large animal where it had been this morning feeding along the foot of the mountain named Ebodina, and when we had traced it over rocks and sand-pools in the ravines to where it had taken to the heights, we too started to ascend in hope of finding its resting-place in some cave above. And upward we laboured during the remainder of the morning, the sure-footed Chief sound of lung and never daunted, and I, bound to follow over the wildest mountain face imaginable, composed, like the hills we had hunted yesterday, chiefly of pile upon pile of huge boulders, with deep dark chasms between. Into the deepest of those recesses the Chief would sometimes pause to throw a pebble in the hope that it might send the sheep from its place of hiding in its noisy course as it bounded and trickled down into the gloomy well-like depth. But all to no avail, and we returned to camp empty-handed.
On this day I found the relics of a tragedy among the boulders near the foot of Ebodina. They were the rags of clothing and a few minute pieces of personal belongings, and a riddled goat-skin water-bag belonging to some native who had died there alone, either through falling from the rocks or from want of water or food. No weather-bleached bones lay beside those pitiful remnants, and without doubt jackals had long ago seen to their removal.
3rd May.—Similar to the previous days here, the weather dulled down in the afternoon, and we had high wind and thunder and a little rain, the wind being a great hindrance to skinning in my temporary quarters, for I have not built a grass-hut workshop here, as the ground is bad to excavate for post sockets—rocks and gravel— and wood and grass is very scarce.
No hunting except for small specimens, and none of the men left camp, save to keep watch over the camels, who have constantly a guard in case robbers should discover them.
The Chief of Baguezan is impatient to move on to the security of his mountain home, one long day’s journey distant, but I ask him to have patience for a little, for here we are on low ground, and can hunt for bird and beast and butterfly which I may not find on the mountain-top of Baguezan.
4th May.—Dawn found Minerou and myself again among the deep ravines and rugged mountains in quest of sheep. Four animals were seen late in morning far up the mountain side of Aouderas, but we were unable to get near them. Signs of sheep are plentiful enough, but, so far as I can judge at present, they are very wary and wild and secretive in their movements, resting and hiding in the dark mountain caves by day, and coming out to feed in late evening and through the night.
Yesterday evening and to-day Rains have fallen quite heavily, and the hitherto dry river-bed at camp is to-day a shallow stream of water, which is a sight to gladden men’s hearts in this land of terrible drought. The water in the river is very reddish on account of the soil of that colour which has been washed down from the ravine sides and mountain sides. Streams of water are also apparent to-day in ravines on the slopes of Baguezan Mountains, so that precious rain has fallen there also, and the Chief is now more anxious than ever to get back to his home.
I discussed the boundaries of Aïr with the Chief of Baguezan to-day. He states that Aderbissinat is within the boundary of Aïr, and that east and west their country terminates at the edge of the desert. He declares he knows nothing of the limits of Aïr to the north, and that his people never go there. “It is bad country, they are afraid to go,” he said; while at the same time he informed me that none of his people would accompany me to Assodé or Iferouan when I declared my intention to visit those places. Moreover, he warned me solemnly that I would be very rash if I did not give up my intention of going farther into the country—a view expressed by every Tuareg native of Aïr with whom I discussed the subject previous to setting out north. From which it may be gathered that northern Aïr is indeed a place of evil repute.
To-day I trapped a beautiful silver-grey fox of a kind I had not seen before, which, I fancy, is peculiar to mountain country and not to be found in the desert. (Scientific examination has since proved it to be a new sub-species: Vulpes rüppelli cæesia.)