The omnibus, on account of the snapping of one of the springs, made unusually slow progress as it toiled along the zigzag road leading up to the Fort. We consequently got out and walked most of the way, taking short cuts, and greatly enjoying the deliciously fresh air and fine scenery, and arrived at our destination between one and two o’clock, when, having refreshed ourselves, we took a turn outside the ramparts for the sake of the superb view from this point. There was a grand tumble of mountains, range beyond range; but what riveted our attention chiefly were the great peaks and rocky masses of the Jurjura to the south.
As I already knew something of the country, and Muirhead saw it for the first time, he said, ‘And what do you propose doing?’ I accordingly suggested that we should go in the direction of the high mountains, where we should be most likely to find points of interest. There were two roads in front of us, both leading to places suitable for camping. The first was on the crest of a mountain range, studded with many villages that lay between us and the peaks of the Jurjura, the seat of the Beni Ienni, one of the best-known tribes in the country, where native jewellery and cutlery is chiefly manufactured. The second was the home of the Aïth Ménguellath; their mountain was not actually visible, being hidden by the spurs of the one on which we were standing; it was farther off, but more easy of access than the Beni Ienni, being skirted by the French road to Akbou, the only one leading out of the country in the direction of Constantine, Kabylia being otherwise an ‘impasse.’ The latter tribe have in their midst a school under the direction of three missionary Fathers, and the former a school superintended by three Jesuit Fathers. We anticipated that the presence of the good Pères would be of service to us, considering our ignorance of the language.
At our feet, between us and the Beni Ienni, was a deep gulf. The Kabyle road before us, rough and steep, led down into it, apparently ending in the blue distance in a fine example of the perpendicular; the other wound round to the left at a high level. After a little talk over the matter, we decided to follow the civilised line as the easier, and to start for the Aïth Ménguellath the following morning, provided that we could find mules. We soon found there was no difficulty on this point, and five were promised to be ready at an early hour. When several mules are engaged, each belonging to a different owner, a considerable amount of excited talk and gesticulation has to be got through before the traveller sees his luggage finally packed and ready to start, for each mule-owner naturally does his best to get the heavy pieces put on his neighbour’s mule and the light pieces on his own. In the midst of all this dispute and fuss, the mules stand patiently, but they have a trick of striking out their legs, as if it were only just as much as they could do to support their burdens; more luggage is heaped on their backs, their expression of countenance grows more wistful and dejected; but when everything is adjusted they prick up their ears and start jauntily. We had three beasts, heavily laden, and two riding-mules. It was a glorious, perfect morning; the sun warm, the air brisk; and the great range of lofty mountains tipped with snow looked most sublime. We caught the country in the very act of bedecking itself with its spring mantle, for the mountain slopes were covered with the bright fresh green of the young corn, and the ash-trees in abundance were just opening their delicate leaves.
On the way we passed one or two small villages, and some charming wooded gullies with falling streams. At such a spot was a scene that caught my fancy. A party of girls had placed some clothes on smooth rocks, in the run of the brook, and, barefooted, were merrily dancing upon them; others were flopping about a crimson dress, previous to wringing it, while more clothes lay drying in the sun on the grassy slope. Above them, offering shade for a noontide repast, rose an elegant ash, with a great vine mazily tangled up with and depending from its branches. The eastern end of the mountain was not so verdant as the country we had already passed, the ground being naturally more barren; but no square foot of land capable of cultivation had been neglected, and it was matter of wonder to see corn growing on slopes so steep that no one could stand on them without some caution lest he should roll to the bottom of the ravine; as, moreover, it was by no means obvious where the bottom might be, and pretty evident that anyone rolling down would have no sound bone left in his body by the time he reached it, one could not but admire the plucky industry of the Kabyles.
The house of the Missionary Fathers at length appeared in the distance on a well-wooded ridge, the higher points of which were crowned by three or four large villages.
The road now became unfit for carriages, and dwindled to a mule-path, winding in an irregular fashion. We passed one especially picturesque place, crowned by the white tower of a mosque, with a fine group of evergreen oaks shading the rocky corner of a cemetery. As we approached the Aïth Ménguellath, and made the final ascent to the Mission House, the path was shaded by avenues of ash-trees.
On knocking at the door of the school-house, we found only one of the Fathers at home; he received us very politely, and refreshed us with excellent wine, made on the lands of the fraternity at the Maison Carrée, a few miles from Algiers, where is their mother establishment. Their Superior is the Bishop of Algiers. Any young man desirous of entering the society commences with a course of study in Arabic, at their house at the Maison Carrée. They have four other schools in Kabylia, besides this in the Aïth Ménguellath, which is the latest founded, and the Jesuits have two establishments.
On the road, we had seen no level piece of ground suitable for camping. In answer to our inquiries, the Father thought that nowhere in the neighbourhood could be found a better place than beside a small cemetery just beneath the school-house, where our animals had that moment halted; we therefore lost no time in unlading the mules, and dismissing our attendant Kabyles. We had never before pitched the tent, which was a large and fine one, unusual in its arrangements, and it took us some time to put it up; we were much embarrassed by tombstones, these encroached so near that it was next to impossible to peg down the tent. However, when once it was up, with the lining, and our camp-beds and luggage disposed within, it looked very comfortable. We determined that while we remained dwellers beside tombs, however much the ghosts of the departed might be perturbed at the unwonted presence of the unfaithful, our peace should remain secure.
A few men had collected to watch our proceedings, and boys from the school gathered round. They were a nice-looking set of lads, bright and gentle-mannered, and we were glad to find that they possessed a stock of French, slender though it was. The fire flickered up, in preparation for our evening meal, the school-lads in their white burnouses stood round, whilst through the trees the Jurjura peaks grew dim in the fading light.
Our man, Domenique, came from the Pyrenees on the Spanish frontier; he called himself a Frenchman, but he did not look like one, nor had he the lively French manners. He was spare, of about forty, with black straight hair and moustache, black eyes, under-cut mouth, with marked lines about the jaw. From the beginning, Muirhead declared him to be a man with a temper, which proved to be too true; time also proved him to be a man of a bilious temperament, utterly incapable of understanding a joke. ‘He is quite the Spanish type,’ said Muirhead. I know not, but if Spaniards are apt to resemble him, I hope I may never travel in their country.