On our walk, Uncle Zaïd, a benevolent, white-bearded gentleman, accosted us, and offered cakes. By and by, we met Père Voisin reading his breviary, who said there was much talk in the villages concerning us, and questionings as to what we had come for, why were we staring, why prying about the country in that way? Did not the pulling out of paper and pencils mean mischief? Were we not ‘Géomètres’ come to trace out new roads? and would they, the Kabyles, be forced to work on them? He told us he had reassured them, explaining that we were Englishmen, and had nothing to do with the Government.
Sunday, April 11, 1880.—It blew hard during the night, and there was a heavy fall of rain, it was cold too, so that the unprepared Dominique was half-frozen to death, and we, not having more clothes than were quite necessary for ourselves, were forced to borrow wraps from the Fathers. On waking, behold, we were in the clouds and drizzle, unable to see many yards, so we determined to mark Sunday in the time-honoured fashion, by lying late a-bed. It rained all day, and we left the tent, only to take a constitutional under umbrellas.
The evening was spent with the Fathers. Père Gerbouin lent us a pamphlet printed for private circulation, giving an interesting account of a French missionary expedition to the Equatorial Lakes. A Brother, whom I had known when staying, two years previously, in the tribe of the Zouardia, had taken part in this expedition, and they had just learned the news of his death, at which they much grieved; nor was he the only victim, for several others had succumbed to privations and fevers. Père Gerbouin was very enthusiastic on the subject, and greatly wished to join a fresh expedition that is to start from Algiers for Lake Victoria. He would be the right man in the right place; for besides his enthusiasm he is tough and strong. He thought it a disgrace, at a time when England and Protestants are making such exertions in this field of enterprise, that France and the Roman Catholic Church should lag behind. Evidently the cannibals will shortly be placed in the delicate position of having to choose between rival sects of the same religion.
The Père also told us of the privations they had to endure while their present school-house was being built; how winter had overtaken them, and they had to live in huts in the snow. They also recounted many odd stories about our neighbours, and of the hard life led by the poor.
In Kabyle society, the social unit is the family. The possessions of a family are held in common, and are administered by the father; at his death, by the son deemed to be the most capable to manage affairs. The gains of each member of the family are joined in a common fund. The exclusion of women to inheritance is the consequence of this organisation, for, if the daughters inherited like their brothers, the division of goods would bring about the dispersal of the family.
Polygamy is lawful, but unusual, for the Kabyles as a rule are too poor to be able to afford more than one wife. The women all marry as soon as they arrive at the age of puberty. There is no written contract at marriage. A Taleb—that is to say, a man knowing how to read—recites the first and fourth chapters of the Koran, there is no other religious ceremony. Before parting with his daughter, the father receives a certain sum, which varies according to her age, beauty, and her qualifications for making a good housewife, and according to the means of her intended husband. Sometimes part of the price is given in a provision of corn and figs. The father gives his daughter as a marriage portion a girdle and jewellery; these become her personal property, which no man can take from her. If the father has received the price of his daughter, and she should happen to die before the consummation of marriage, he retains the money. If the husband die, leaving his widow childless, she returns to her father, who marries her again as he pleases. If she have children, her father cannot give her in marriage without her consent; and if she pay him an equivalent to what he would expect to receive from a man desiring marriage with her, she becomes free from all paternal restraint. This money is kept in trust for her children. If she marry, her husband, who has had nothing to pay, engages to take care of the children, who remain in the house with their mother. If a woman refuse to live with her husband, she returns to the paternal roof, when she becomes known as a ‘rebel.’ The husband still has rights, and can forbid her marrying anyone else; he may allow her to do so, provided the father consent, in which case the latter receives the supplementary sum to be paid. A widow can only re-marry after mourning four months and ten days; a divorced woman must wait three months. A man having repudiated his wife cannot take her back without paying again, and having the marriage ceremony re-performed. In case of separation, the children are brought up by the father.
Conjugal infidelity has to be avenged with blood. In the Beni Ienni I heard of several cases of savage murder from this cause.
Two brothers, one of twenty, the other fifteen, having constantly been about the tent since our arrival, we engaged the younger, who was very anxious to make himself useful, and knew a few words of French, to do little commissions. Kabyle verbs have an habitual form. As the elder was an adept in putting into practice the verb to ‘loaf,’ we nicknamed him the habitual loafer. We now learned with astonishment that the habitual loafer had just taken to himself a second wife. Having no ready money, in order to obtain one, he had offered the parents of the girl to whose hand he aspired, a patch of land in pledge, until he should be able to pay off the debt. After two months of troubled married life he sent the girl back to her parents, I know not upon what plea. These naturally claimed the field, but the youth’s mother (his father was dead) brought proof that the land had been given to her. The returned girl got no recompense, though free to marry again. The late husband began making fresh advances to another girl. Number two took better precautions; moreover, the habitual-loafer promised to earn a certain sum of ready money before marriage, and he started to seek his fortune in Algiers. After a three months’ absence, he turned up with thirty sous in his pocket; the young lady however was not difficile, and with an eye perhaps on the land—it could not have been on her lover—accepted him in spite of his meagre success.
Some of the well-to-do natives engage private instructors to teach their sons Arabic and the Koran, but this is rare; such a teacher is living in the village of Thililit, where he conducts a school. Reclining under the shade of the ilexes, we heard the voices of the children chanting the Koran, a native by our side, perceiving how our attention was occupied, pointing in that direction, said, ‘Kief kief Afrouken’ (just like the birds). When Kabyle is written, the Arabic characters are adopted. Among the Touaregs, a Berber people more to the south, an indigenous alphabet is in use. General Hanoteau translates some sentences thus written, which were inscribed by a woman on the shield of a Touareg chief. The writing is from right to left, and decipherment is complicated by the omission of vowels, and of divisions between words. Poor vowels, they often fare badly. Even in ordinary Arabic writing they are much snubbed, treated as superfluous luxuries, and hustled out of the way by self-sufficient consonants, and never meet with the frank recognition due to their merit. In the Koran they certainly fare better, everything is as perfect as possible, and all vowels are introduced, but even then they are poor little things above and below the line, attendant upon a sturdy row of consonants. In the cellars of the British Museum are a few ancient Lybian inscriptions. There is one bilingual stone, Phœnician and Berber. This ancient Berber writing is almost identical with that still in use among the Touaregs.
Monday, April 12, 1880.—Another wet morning and dense mist. I occupied myself with studying Kabyle. Before leaving Algiers, M. Stora, a Jew, ‘interprète à la cour d’assise,’ gave me a few lessons, the only man of education I could hear of, who had knowledge of the language. I paid him about a dozen short visits, when he kindly gave me all the assistance he could. I also carried with me a Kabyle grammar, written some years ago by General M. Hanoteau, and a French and Kabyle dictionary, compiled by the Jesuits, which proved most useful.