On 4th July I left Baguezan mountains and set out to Agades, having, by camel courier, received a request to come in to meet the commandant of the Territoire Militaire du Niger, who was to arrive at Agades from Zinder in a few days in the course of a round of inspection of outlying posts.
I journeyed back to Agades by the way I had come, and spent three very enjoyable days at the Fort in the society of fellow Europeans—a great treat when one has been long alone except for native following.
In connection with the last remark, being alone on work of this kind has, I have concluded, one advantage, which may be set against its harshness in denying companionship; and that is the rare opportunity which it gives to undistracted study. When a man in ordinary business life wishes to pursue deep study, it is common habit to select a quiet room where he may sit alone in undisturbed contemplation of his subject. And a similar privacy has, I believe, its advantages to the man out on the trail: alone, he is better equipped to give undivided attention to study, so long as the period of research is not too protracted and the strain of loneliness not unbearable to the point of depression. But besides this advantage to study, besides the fate which circumstances may impose, I would be one of the first to say to anyone contemplating a journey beyond civilised frontiers: “Never go without a well-tried comrade—if you can help it.”
TEOUAR, A TYPICAL DESERTED VILLAGE OF AÏR.
But to return to my narrative. On the way in to Agades I experienced a rain-storm, which illustrates how local such occurrences often are. My caravan was five miles north-east of Agades on the evening of 7th July, when we saw black threatening clouds rolling in the distance apparently over Agades, and, judging it prudent not to run into the storm, we camped at Azzal for the night. At Azzal we experienced strong wind and a very light shower, but on entering Agades next morning we learned that on the previous evening a regular tornado had descended upon the place (which wrecked the wireless plant) and torrential rains had fallen. The after result will be that at Agades (without rain until this storm) the vegetation will now rapidly grow fresh and green, while Azzal and the other places unwatered will remain dormant. Hence at this season parts of Aïr may be green, like Baguezan and localities further north, and others parched and leafless.
It was during this journey to Agades that some particularly fine deceptive mirages were seen. At times lakes of blue water bordered with marsh would be apparent away in the distance, always, of course, to fade out long before the traveller could draw near to the alluring picture. The whole illusion is perfectly clear to the healthy traveller, but what a thing of torture such picture could be to any unfortunate man in search of water in the barren land—lakes lying before our eyes, but for ever receding out of agonised reach.
After my brief visit to Agades, which had interrupted previous plans, I turned again northward, with the purpose of travelling to Aouderas, where I had originally intended to go direct from Baguezan.
On the way north I camped at Azzal (altitude, 1,825 ft.) for a week to make some collections, and, in particular, to capture some specimens of the beautiful Bee-eater, Merops albicollis albicollis, which up to that time I had not seen elsewhere.
It was here, at the settlement on the banks of the Azzal river, which contains many of the natives evacuated from northern Aïr, that I found the Chief of Iferouan with a number of his tribe about him. His people had been accustomed to grow wheat at Iferouan, and it was interesting to note that they had commenced, with considerable success, to establish the same crop cultivation at Azzal, with the aid of deep wells and primitive irrigation. But the Chief declared that he and his people longed to be free to return to Iferouan— “Our hearts are there, not in Azzal.” A sentiment which recalled the words of the Chief of Baguezan in decrying the Sahara south of Aïr as of no attraction to his people: “There are no mountains there, and how could we live without them!”