The altitude of the stream-bed at Timia village is 3,800 feet, while some of the splendid tops of Timia mountains, which are higher than Agalak (map alt.: 4,593 ft.), appear to be easily 2,000 to 3,000 ft. more, and it would not surprise me if the highest altitude in Aïr is contained in Timia mountains, and I regret I had not occasion or time to climb to the highest peak.
Next morning, 10th June, we left Timia and started on the long journey north in uninhabited regions. In the early part of the day we travelled over rough, broken, rocky country until Tiggeur was reached, the abandoned site of a village (alt. 3,700 ft.), where there are a few date palms and an old well which contains no water. To the east the country had appeared more open thus far, and contained a number of small hills, while on the west lay the high slopes of Agalak mountains. Thereafter we continued by Tiggeur and Teguednu river-beds, which had bare, almost treeless banks, and camped at the junction where the latter stream and the Asselar meet and become the broad Agoras river-bed, which trends away N.W. to the ancient town of Assodé. Altitude at this camping-place, 3,150 ft.
To-night and henceforth a sentry was posted and the camels made to lie down in a half-circle, while the goumiers slept beside them, so that we were prepared in the event of robbers stealing in upon us.
11th June.—Slight rain in early part of night; otherwise no disturbance. Woke once or twice, hearing the sentry moving about in idle wakefulness, which recalled habits of active service.
Left our night camping-place about an hour before dawn and travelled to Igouloulof. To-day we passed through country more open in expanse, not in general so mountainous as hitherto, which contained in the rough lowlands some level stretches of sand and stone, while Goundaï mountains loomed large and very conspicuous at a distance to the east.
Igouloulof (altitude, 2,950 ft.), on the north bank of a sandy river-bed that trends east, proved to be a small deserted village among rocks composed of remarkably well-built, flat-roofed stone huts, which are whitish-grey in colour owing to the use of a natural cement in their construction, apparently obtained from open pits in the village. The huts bear a strange aspect against the black rocks, showing like little square pill-boxes inset here and there with pleasing irregularity. They are built without system in laying the stone—no rubble, no regular jointing, just a jumble of stones that are not very large, set in a liberal bed of mortar.
Such places, now deserted—and there are many in Aïr—fill me with sadness; they are often in pleasant situations, and picturesque even now, notwithstanding the strange bleakness and stillness of the land, but one cannot refrain from thinking how much more attractive Aïr would be if occupied by happy natives, and a wayfarer could see, instead of this melancholy desolation, smoke of wood-fires rising and hear homely sounds.
It is difficult to ascertain from the natives, with any certainty of accuracy, the period when Aïr first began to decline in population, though, of course, they all know of the final desertion which took place, about three years ago, in the forced evacuations following on the Rebellion of 1916, when the remnants of the Tuareg inhabitants were commanded by the French authorities to settle in the neighbourhood of Agades under direct protection of the Fort and within reach of surveillance. But this last was a comparatively small affair, and does not by any means account for the loss of the large population, which, if one is to judge by the numerous ruins of old villages and graveyards, once occupied the Aïr mountains. Apart from the question of the extent of oppression pursued by stronger tribes from outside territories, I am prone to wonder if Aïr has undergone any great geological change or climatic change which has made it less fertile than hitherto? For it seems to me that want and hunger are the most tangible causes that drive people to forsake dearthful country and seek a better elsewhere capable of supporting livelihood; more especially if the people happen to be, as in Aïr, naturally nomadic. I think it may be accepted that Aïr in the present age is a land of dearth not capable of supporting a great many people. If it was a rich land, and war was the great scourge that destroyed the people, would not the victors seize the country and settle in it? Such thoughts naturally occur to me, because I cannot believe that this dreadfully bare country, as it is to-day, ever offered any inducement to a large population to live in it; while if food for many people was carried from Damergou, Damagarim, and Kano in the south, it must have constituted a colossal and unending task that necessitated the upkeep of great herds of camels and an abundant growth of forage: viz. grass, ground plants, acacias, “Abisgee,” and other bushes.
Therefore the solution may lie in geological change or climatic change, such as may have altered the whole aspect of the land’s fertility. If sands have swept in from the desert seas that bound Aïr, to pile up gradually at the base of the range through centuries of time and smother forests of acacia and other plant life which may have been there, then the land has suffered a great loss (I have crossed the edge of the eastern plain below Baguezan mountains, where there are still considerable numbers of acacias close in to the margin where mountain rock terminates); while also the sand that is blown into the mountains from the desert is, during Rains, washed into the valleys and innumerable river-beds, causing, perhaps, the valleys to grow in depth of sand and the rivers, for lack of sufficient gradient, or by reason of an estuary out on the desert that may be slowly blocking up, to gradually fill up and choke, where once, perhaps, there were deep rocky channels which held pools of water all the year round.
If, on the other hand, or also, climatic conditions have changed, and much less rain falls now than in former years—natives declare some years in the present are practically rainless—the difference in the fertility of the country would be tremendous, for Aïr, with its countless river-courses, under conditions of bountiful lasting rainfall would be rich and beautiful indeed.