Ali. “I was in Bornu then, waiting for that caravan. Ai! There was dismay in Ghat when the news came there. It was you who did that! I did not know till now. The boy was my sister’s son. His father was her husband.”
Ahodu. “Yes (relapsing into silence); and we also got another caravan that time.”
Self. “Will you come on a raid with me one day?”
Ahodu (quite seriously). “Wallahi, anywhere; and my people will come too, and many more, if you want.”
Self. “But where shall we go?—there are no caravans now.”
Ahodu. “Never mind, there are some fine female camels in Tibesti.”
It was their great sport and had its recognised rules. It kept their men virile, but is finished now.
The essence of rapid travel by camel is lightness of equipment. It is a mistake to suppose that the actual rate of progression on camels is anything but very slow. It may come as a surprise to many to learn that even riding camels rarely move out of a walk. They say in the Sahara that it is bad for the camel to run. The riding camels of the Tuareg are selected and tried beasts, but they are never, in fact, trotted except for quite brief periods. The French camel patrols, after many years of experience, are by regulation forbidden to move out of a walk: the weight of equipment which they have to carry may be a reason, but there must be more in it than that, for even raiding parties follow the same practice. It is held that the fatigue of man and beast consequent upon trotting is disproportionate to the results achieved. But the walk of a camel is slow at any time; to average 3·5 miles an hour over long distances is very good going, while 2·5 with a baggage caravan is all that can be managed.
Where the raider has the advantage over any organised military body engaged in chasing him is in the lightness of his load. The Tuareg camel saddle weighs a few pounds only; the head-rope or bridle is a simple cord without trappings: a small skin of water, a skin of dates, a rifle and perhaps twenty to thirty rounds of ammunition are the only serious additions to the rider’s own weight. But long marches under these conditions are tiring, and scarcely anyone not born to the saddle can survive ten to fourteen hours’ riding day after day for hundreds of miles on a minimum diet. It is the habit of the Tuareg, in Air and elsewhere as well, when they start on such expeditions to procure a long length of stuff woven in the Sudan and tie it round their bodies as support for the abdomen, on which the motion of the camel imposes great strain. In Air the stuff they use is rather like a bandage some four inches wide, of unbleached and undyed cotton tissue; the material is similar to that used for making up robes, for which purpose numerous strips are sewn together and then dyed. These strips of cotton stuff are wound several times tightly round the waist and then over the shoulders, crossing on the breast and back.[178] The practice is particularly interesting, because many of the Egyptian pictures of Libyans show the belt and cross strapping. In referring to the dress of the Libyans, who are often described as “cross-belted,” Bates[179] has made a peculiarly apposite remark: “As seen on the Egyptian monuments, the Libyan girdles were like some modern polo belts cut broader in the back than in the front.” And the Tuareg bandages serve identically the same purpose in similar circumstances, namely, during periods of great physical strain on the stomach muscles. On the analogy of the Tuareg practice, Bates is right in supposing that the Libyan method of wearing the “belt” was to pass it several times round the body: the end was then pushed “down between the body and the girdle, and afterwards again brought up and tucked in.”
To own camels, and yet more camels, is the ultimate ambition of every Tuareg. A man may be rich in donkeys, goats or sheep, or he may have houses, gardens and slaves, but camels are the coveted possessions. Therein the nomadic instinct obtrudes. When I found T’ekhmedin at Towar, he possessed the few rags on his back, and a garden which just kept him alive. He had no prospects of becoming richer; there were no caravans to Ghat, by guiding which he might earn his fees: the French he would not serve: his surplus garden produce had no market. After I had known him a little while I gave him a white cotton robe embroidered on the breast, of the fashion worn by the Hausa, but not favoured in Air. One day not long afterwards I met him and noticed that he was in his old rags once more. He became confused and avoided me. He eventually begged my excuses and hoped that I would not be hurt; he had sold the robe I had given him to the Sultan of Agades, who had found the Southland fashion more to his taste than a true Imajegh would have done. With the proceeds of this deal, T’ekhmedin had bought a half-share in a young camel which had gone to Bilma in charge of a friend with the great caravan to fetch a load of salt. He became more cheerful as he explained. In a few weeks if all went well he expected to have enough money to buy a small camel of his own, and so build up his fortune once more. He nearly wept with gratitude when he had done telling his story. It seemed, I had been the means of rehabilitating him in the world of men, a prospect which appeared only a short time before to be beyond the range of possibility.