Mountain life in Algeria

by Edgar Barclay

Like a crane, or a swallow, so did I chatter.

I dined one evening at the house of Salim, the jeweller of the village of Aït l’Arba. He showed me beautiful pieces of old jewellery that he keeps as patterns; and took me to his workshop, where four or five men were busy. Most of the ornaments which he makes for natives as well as for officers at the Fort, are of small value; but he is quite capable of making as handsome pieces as of old, if people will give the money. A jeweller of Taourirt Mimoun also showed me large Tafizimen beautifully worked. I never saw such out of the country.

Now that the natives are less well off than they used to be, it can be said of them, as it was of another people of old: ‘In that day the Lord will take away the bravery of their tinkling ornaments about their feet,’ ‘their round tires like the moon, the chains, and the bracelets, and the mufflers, the bonnets, and the ornaments of the legs, and the headbands, and the tablets, and the ear-rings,’ ‘the changeable suits of apparel, and the mantles.’

Let us trust that the following verse is not likewise about to become applicable. ‘And it shall come to pass, that instead of sweet smell there shall be stink; and instead of a girdle a rent; and instead of well-set hair baldness; and instead of a stomacher a girding of sackcloth; and burning instead of beauty.’ For the pride of the people is cast down, and their spirit broken, and ‘in that time shall the present be brought unto the Lord of hosts of a people scattered and peeled, and from a people terrible from their beginning hitherto; a nation meted out and trodden under foot.’

The blacksmiths at their forges were busy making cutlery. The shape of the knives is always pleasing, and they have sometimes inlaid work. The cheap knives in carved wooden sheaths, that are hawked about Algiers, come from here. In former days, they used also to manufacture guns with long barrels and highly ornamented stocks. These forges are tempting warm nooks in the winter time.

The turning of wooden bowls and dishes is another industry. The piece to be turned is fixed to a chuck revolving backwards and forwards, instead of continually in one direction, as in our lathes. The action is given by a thong lapped round the chuck, attached at one end to a pliable stake fixed in the ground, and at the other, to a treddle worked by the foot of the turner. The action is thus of the same nature as that of a drill worked with a bow.

The women here do not carry their pitchers on their heads, but on their backs. The vases are pointed at the bottom, just like ancient amphoræ. The point rests on the girdle, and the jar is thus steadied, the action of carrying them is not so graceful as the balancing on the head, which always causes a fine carriage.

The women are the only potters, and these amphoræ are made by them in the following manner: A store of clay, cleaned, and properly tempered, is kept at hand in the shade. A rough saucer of clay is first placed on the ground in a sunny spot. On this a woman begins to model a vase; starting with the solid pointed end, she carries the body up a certain height and leaves it. A second is then begun, and carried to the same point of completion, and so on till half-a-dozen are growing up. Returning to the first, which meanwhile has been drying in the sun, she continues to form the body, bending over, and stepping round and round, with one hand inside she supports the clay as it is added, and with the other smoothes, shapes, and moistens it as required. The sunlight playing on the wet yellow clay has a pretty effect, and when half formed, the vases have almost the appearance of strange gigantic crocuses. In spite of the rudeness of the method, the vases come quickly to completion, and are wonderfully true in shape. The bodies and the spouts with curled-over lips finished, she sits on the ground and models the handles; before the close of day she will have carried half-a-dozen large amphoræ into the courtyard of her house, where they are left to dry. As they harden they are rubbed with a smooth piece of wood, laid in the sun, rubbed again, and so on, till they look quite polished. When in this state I have seen them glisten to such a degree that I was under the impression they were waxed. In this I was mistaken, for the wife of the Amine of Taourirt el Hadjadj, a good potter, assured me the polish was produced simply by rubbings as described. The point is interesting, because other wares are found polished instead of glazed. To complete her work, the potter again sits down, and holding a vessel paints different parts with red ochre, and a variety of patterns drawn in black lines with peroxide of manganese. A number of vases having been wrought to this state, are put into an open kiln or firepan in the ground, packed with a quantity of wood, which is ignited, and they are thus baked. Often a final vegetable varnish is passed over them.

Lamps are curiously constructed, consisting of two or three rows of little cups to hold oil one above another; each cup is connected by a small hole, with an indented projection in front, which serves to hold the wick. Beneath is a basin to catch the drip, and the whole is supported on a strong round base.