After incredible exertions and having suffered much from hunger and thirst—they were reduced at the last to a little chocolate with which to allay the pangs of hunger—they succeeded in reaching home.
Their journey was, of course, to a great extent a failure, but they had reconnoitered an unknown country and proved themselves to be a couple of exceptionally energetic, brave men. They resumed their duty in silence, but a rumour of their exploit leaked out and reached the ear of the General. He demanded an explanation, with the result that they received a slight official reprimand—soon shaken off.
Since Duveyrier undertook his memorable journey, of which the brilliant results are related in his book, Les Touaregs du Nord, no one probably has dedicated himself so entirely to a desert life as Cornitz, a young Swiss, of whom the officers in the south spoke in the highest terms.
This man, who appears to be a thinker and philosopher of no mean order, came for the first time to Southern Tunisia some years ago, in order to study the mode of life and opinions of the Bedouins. He was so charmed with their nomad existence that he returned every year for three years. He dressed as they did, and lived amongst them in the desert, and, under equal conditions, shared in the joys and sorrows of their tent life, their hunts and their boundless horizon. But the time came when even this did not satisfy him, so he purchased palm trees, a house and a herd, and settled down in the town of Duz to the west of the Matmata and south of the shotts.
To enable him to take long journeys to the south, he bought two “mehari” (chameaux coureurs) and practised the difficult art of riding them. After eight days’ hard exertion he could ride as well as any “Targui.”
He then travelled with his flocks, or alone, in the south as far as Rhadamés, but neither was he able to gain admittance to that town. While on this journey he completed the French map.
Each year, after a visit home, he returned. The last time, in May 1893, that he travelled home he passed through Gabés, where he was struck down with fever and was very ill. The French officers begged him to go into the military hospital, but he declined their offers and started for the north. During my stay in the south I was told that he had written to one of the Khalifas that he would soon return to visit his herds, left in charge of an Arab, and to again resume his life in the desert.
“Il est un peu original, mais très intelligent,” the officers at Gabés said of him.
In truth, there are many who are attracted by the free life that is led under tents, where no one need fear troubling his neighbour, since space is unlimited.
If one place is unpleasing, you move to another—laying your tents on camels and vaulting into the saddle, you drive your flocks and herds onwards, ever onwards, for the horizon has no limit.