Exploration of Aïr

by Angus Buchanan

We left Tasessat about 2 p.m. on 7th June, and travelled over the plateau in a north-westerly direction, heading for the Pass that gave exit to Timia. Our route over the plateau was far from a direct one, since it was necessary to dodge in and out to evade the numerous hills, while it was over cruelly rough country almost altogether of stones and rocks, which punished the camels’ feet severely; so severely that, after an equally hard journey the following day, one of the animals had to be discarded when reaching Timia. We were still on the plateau at sundown, and camped about an hour’s journey from the head of the Pass.

Next day travel was resumed, and we soon came to the top of the pass, where a magnificent view from the mountain edge lay before us of the wide gradient of the rough hill-covered Baguezan mountain sides, and of the very broad valley which lay westwards between us and the Béla mountains, and is drained northward in time of rain by the Assada river and its numerous tributaries.

Throughout the day I was delighted and astonished by the wealth of everchanging scene of mountain and hill and valley, hardly finishing appreciation of one striking picture before it changed, as we moved onward, and another came into view to arrest attention. (To my mind, wild mountain scenery, second only to the magnificent views which surround Timia, is here seen at its best in Aïr—a region rich in mountain landscape.) In the Infinite Detail I found greatest attraction, detail of constant change of form and contour, and perspective of country full of rugged features. It is not scene that is rich in colour, being overclouded with the dominant dull greyness of the bare rock and stone, and therefore, perhaps, contains no great appeal to one who might appraise it with the eye of a painter; rather would I suggest that it holds appeal for the etcher, insomuch that there is such a wealth of detail, detail delicate or superbly masterful, in form and outline, in grotesque shapes, and in strength of shadow.

So far as travel underfoot was concerned, we put in a long arduous day, first descending the pass out of Baguezan, which is a more rugged and difficult one than that in the south, and then continuing among foothills that never offered a level course, so that we were constantly climbing or descending rocky, stony hill-ground or dipping into the numerous ravines that crossed our path; and we were still about a day’s journey from Timia when we camped at night.

Before dawn on the following day—9th June— we had risen from our hard beds on the open ground (I had left all camp equipment in Baguezan, so that this journey should not be unnecessarily hampered with baggage) and pushed on to Timia, which it was necessary we should reach this day, for we had been unable to find water at sundown yesterday, and had almost finished the store in our goat-skin bags.

Daylight found us slowly advancing northward, in towards Agalak mountains, which loomed massively in a long line before us; at first dimly, haze-softened, then growing to a frowning countenance, in which cliffs and clefts and precipitous ravines could be discerned. By which time we began to swing easterly, keeping the slopes of Agalak mountains, which appear to have a plateau summit, not far distant on our left, while Baguezan mountains lay almost out of sight on our right. About 11 o’clock, after toiling up and down dale, over stone-strewn ground and among rocks that presented difficulty to free travel as constantly as yesterday, we emerged on to a wide river-bed of loose sand which bore the name of Abarakan in the locality where we intersected it. Still heading east, we continued up the river course for a long time in the full heat of day and with the sun-glare rebounding off the sand, which was very loose and powdery, as in all river-beds in Aïr, and heavy underfoot for the camels, but vastly better than the terrible mountain trail we had left behind. About 1.30 p.m. we branched off the river, ascending the right bank on to a small level stony plain which lay beneath the western slopes of some low hills near to and S.E. of the Timia range. We crossed this plain in a northerly direction, into which course the river had also turned just about the time we parted from it, and even now the river channel was not far distant on our left, drawing a parallel line also to Timia, but not so directly as the one which Dogo, the local native, was following. However, at the head of the rocky plain, where it terminated at the foot of hills which shut it in completely, we again intercepted the river, about 2 miles from Timia, where precipitous slopes dipped to the very edge of the east bank and completely blocked passage on that side. Hence we entered the river-bed again, and travelled up it a little way, between steep banks, until we came to the mouth of Timia Gorge, and encountered the strange and formidable barrier that there shuts off further progress up the river. This obstacle was the sheer cliff of a dry waterfall of height of some 25 to 30 ft., and, in conjunction with the closely crowding hill-sides on either bank, it appeared to close the narrow neck between the hills altogether. But native wit, or necessity, had found a way to force a door in the barrier, to give passage to caravans into the rich gorge that lay beyond, for close examination of the west bank of the river reveals a winding, precipitous, cave-like staircase hewn out of the solid rock, which ascends to the top of the high bank, where there is space enough, and no more, between mountain base and river-bank, to allow camels to pass above the fall. One by one we led each camel into this stairway, which they had to strain and struggle to ascend, and humoured them slowly upwards, until all were safely at the top, when we proceeded up the broad river-bed into Timia without further hindrance.

Timia Gorge is, in my opinion, the most beautiful spot in Aïr and the most fertile. It has a length of some three or four miles, through which the wide shallow river-bed winds (I judge the river to be 75 to 100 yards wide), while the steep slopes of the majestic heights of Agalak and Timia mountains descend on either side to its very margin, leaving, in places, narrow little stretches of ground upon the banks, no wider than a mansion garden, which are irrigated by means of wells and cultivated by the natives to grow wheat and millet and maize, or bear thick groves of date palms.

We entered Timia village about 4 p.m., and were warmly welcomed by the fine old headman, who acted as deputy in absence of the Chief Fougda. I was amused to find that, as in many other instances, all the natives who gathered around while we off-loaded already knew of me and wanted to look on “the hunting white man,” while many of the women and children of the village, who did not travel to Agades like the men, had never seen a European before, and were vastly interested in a timid, furtive way.

I was greatly pleased with Timia village, which is built chiefly on the west bank of the river in a small open flat stony pocket at the eastern base of Agalak. The small dome dwellings are the same as those on Baguezan, but built with more care, while there is a decided appearance of neatness and tidiness in the whole village which I found lacking elsewhere in inhabited places in Aïr. Moreover, I found the people really industrious in working their riverside gardens, and, in fact, when I came to see more of them a week or two later, I judged them to be the most superior tribe I had encountered in Aïr.

The six goumiers from Agades joined me at Timia, heavily masked, like all Tuaregs, with yashmak, which leaves only the eyes uncovered, and picturesquely dressed in cotton robes of various colours; while the old headman brought forward a young fellow named Homa, who had been born in Iferouan and was to act as guide, and, in particular, point out where water was to be found. He and another man had been part of the way north about a month before trying to trap donkeys, which escaped from the natives at the time of the evacuations, or out of the hands of robbers, and are now running completely wild in Aïr. (Later I saw fresh tracks of one band, and many signs of them where they had been feeding.) Those men succeeded in trapping one donkey, but say the brutes are terribly wild and difficult to catch.