I now, for the first time, produced Captain Lyon’s book in Boo Khaloom’s tent, and on turning over the prints of the natives he swore, and exclaimed, and insisted upon it, that he knew every face:—“This was such a one’s slave—that was his own—he was right—he knew it. Praised be God for the talents he gave the English! they were shater, clever; wolla shater, very clever!” Of a landscape, however, I found that he had not the least idea; nor could I make him at all understand the intention of the print of the sand-wind in the desert, which is really so well described by Captain Lyon’s drawing; he would look at it upside down; and when I twice reversed it for him, he exclaimed, “Why! why! it is all the same.” A camel or a human figure was all I could make him understand, and at these he was all agitation and delight—“Gieb! gieb! Wonderful! wonderful!” The eyes first took his attention, then the other features: at the sight of the sword, he exclaimed, “Allah! Allah!” and on discovering the guns instantly exclaimed, “Where is the powder?” This want of perception, as I imagined, in so intelligent a man, excited at first my surprise; but perhaps just the same would an European have felt under similar circumstances. Were an European to attain manhood without ever casting his eye upon the representation of a landscape on paper, would he immediately feel the particular beauties of the picture, the perspective and the distant objects? Certainly not: it is from our opportunities of contemplating works of art, even in the common walks of life, as well as to cultivation of mind, and associations of the finer feelings by an intercourse with the enlightened and accomplished, that we owe our quick perception in matters of this kind, rather than from nature.
To the south of Bilma are marshes with pools of stagnant water, which our horses could scarcely drink. The town stands in a hollow, and is surrounded by low mud walls, which, with the houses within, are mean and miserable. About two miles north of the town are a few huts, and near them several lakes, in which are great quantities of very pure crystallized salt: some was brought to us for sale in baskets, beautifully white, and of an excellent flavour. On visiting the two most productive lakes, which lay between low sand hills, I expressed my surprise at the difference between that which the Tibboos were carrying away from the heaps by the side of the water, and that which I had seen the day before: I however found that their time for gathering the salt was at the end of the dry season, when it was taken, in large masses, from the borders of the lake. This transparent kind they put into bags, and send to Bornou and Soudan; a coarser sort is also formed into hard pillars, and for which a ready market is found. In Soudan, a single pillar weighing eleven pounds brings four or five dollars. The Tuaricks supply themselves with salt entirely from the wadeys of the Tibboos. Twenty thousand bags of salt were said to have been carried off during the last year by the Tuaricks alone. The Tibboos say, “It is hard to rob us, not only for their own consumption, but for the purposes of commerce too; and in consequence of paying nothing for the commodity, undersell us likewise in the Soudan market.” But the Tibboos must be another people before they can keep the Tuaricks from plundering their country: a people who neither plant nor sow; whose education consists in managing a maherhy, and the use of the spear; and who live by plundering those around them, as well as those whom necessity or chance may lead to pass through their own country.
About a mile from Bilma is a spring of beautiful clear water, which rises to the surface of the earth, and waters a space of two or three hundred yards in circumference, which is covered with fresh grass: but passing this, the traveller must bid adieu to every appearance of vegetable production, and enter on a desert which requires thirteen days to cross. Near the first hill of sand I succeeded, with the assistance of two Arabs, in catching a small beautiful animal, nearly white, much resembling a fox in make and shape, although not larger than a moderate-sized cat. It was of the species called fitchet: the belly was white, and the back and rest of the body of a light brown colour; the tail was bushy like that of the fox, nearly white, and the end of the hair tipped with black.
Jan. 16.—Our road lay over loose hills of fine sand, in which the camels sank nearly knee-deep. In passing these desert wilds, where hills disappear in a single night by the drifting of the sand, and where all traces of the passage, even of a large kafila, sometimes vanish in a few hours, the Tibboos have certain points in the dark sandstone ridges, which from time to time raise their heads in the midst of this dry ocean of sand, and form the only variety, and by them they steer their course. From one of these landmarks we waded through sand formed into hills from twenty to sixty feet in height, with nearly perpendicular sides, the camels blundering and falling with their heavy loads. The greatest care is taken by the drivers in descending these banks: the Arabs hang with all their weight on the animal’s tail, by which means they steady him in his descent. Without this precaution the camel generally falls forward, and, of course, all he carries goes over his head. We halted at Kaflorum (where the kafila stops), which is a nest of hills of coarse, dark sandstone: an irregular peak to the east is called Gusser, or the castle. At the end of these hills, about two miles from the road, lies a wadey called Zow Seghrir, in which grows the suag tree, and also grass. Our course was south; but we were obliged to wind round the different sand hills in order to avoid the rapid descents, which were so distressing to the camels. We bivouacked under a head called Zow (the Difficult), to the east, where we found several wells.
Jan. 18.—The sand hills were less high to-day, but the animals sank so deep, that it was a tedious day for all. Four camels of Boo Khaloom’s gave in; two were killed by the Arabs, and two were left to the chance of coming up before morning. Tremendously dreary are these marches: as far as the eye can reach, billows of sand bound the prospect. On seeing the solitary foot passenger of the kafila, with his water-flask in his hand, and bag of zumeeta on his head, sink at a distance beneath the slope of one of these, as he plods his way alone, hoping to gain a few paces in his long day’s work, by not following the track of the camels, one trembles for his safety:—the obstacle passed which concealed him from the view, the eye is strained towards the spot in order to be assured that he has not been buried quick in the treacherous overwhelming sand.
An unfortunate merchant of Tripoli, Mohamed N’diff, who had suffered much on the road from an enlarged spleen, was here advised to undergo the operation of burning with a red-hot iron, the sovereign Arab remedy for almost every disorder: he consented; and, previous to our move this morning, he was laid down on his back, and, while five or six Arabs held him on the sand, the rude operators burnt him on the left side, under the ribs, in three places, nearly the size of a sixpence each. The iron was again placed in the fire, and while heating, the thumbs of about a dozen Arabs were thrust in different parts of the poor man’s side, to know if the pressure pained him, until his flesh was so bruised, that he declared all gave him pain: four more marks with the iron were now made near the former ones, upon which he was turned on his face, and three larger made within two inches of the back bone. One would have thought the operation was now at an end; but an old Arab, who had been feeling his throat for some time, declared a hot iron, and a large burn, absolutely necessary just above the collarbone, on the same side. The poor man submitted with wonderful patience to all this mangling, and after drinking a draught of water, moved on with the camels. We made this day twenty-one miles, and halted at Chukœma, which means half way. We lost more than twenty of our camels this day, by their straying out of the path.
Jan. 20.—We were promised to find water early; and as the animals had not drank the night before, we pushed on with our horses: we were told the wells were near; but it was a long twenty miles, over loose rolling sand hills. At less than half way, we passed two hills of dark sandstone, called Geisgae (Dhubba—the hyena), which had been in sight great part of yesterday; and at 1. 30. arrived at a wadey called Dibla (Inchat tegeel—heavy stone). In the wadey near is a little sprinkling of rusty grass, which the animals devoured with an avidity that would have done credit to better fare. The water was extremely brackish, and strongly impregnated with trona; but it was fresh and cool, and therefore a delightful beverage to us.
In the wadey Dibla stands a detached conical table-topped hill: the summit had a black rugged appearance from below, and was formed of a sort of bituminous earth, dry and crumbling to the touch. Under this were layers or strata of thin plates, almost resembling foil, of brittle schistose clay, of black, yellow, and green: these also crumbled on receiving the pressure of the hand[19]. About ten miles from Dibla we came to Chegarub, and four miles further to Kersherma, where we rested for the night. No wood or water.
Jan. 22.—A tedious day over sandy deserts, without even the relief of a dark hill to look forward to. About sun-set we came to a spot with some little sprinkling of a grass called sbeet, and some fine grass, with a flower called nisse. Made twenty-four miles, and halted at Kasama-foma-hamse, or the five trees. No wood nor water. Alarm of Tibboos,—all mounted and turned out.
Jan. 23.—Desert as yesterday. High sand hills[20]. Burmenmadua (all sand). At three in the afternoon, we arrived at an extensive wadey, called Aghadem. Here are several wells of excellent water, forage, and numbers of the tree called suag, the red berries of which are nearly as good as cranberries. We broke in on the retreats of about a hundred gazelles, who were enjoying the fertility of the valley. It was, however, with great difficulty, from their extreme shyness, that we shot one, which afforded us an ample meal. A road here branched off to the westward, leading to the Tuarick country, and Soudan, but not frequented by kafilas. Aghadem is a great rendezvous, and the dread of all small kafilas and travellers. It is frequented by freebooters of all descriptions.