We left Derna on the second of June, and pursued our course along the beach towards Apollonia, with the intention of returning to Cyrene by that route. After travelling along a stony flat running out from the base of the mountain, we reached El Hyera, where there is a well of fresh water within a few feet of the sea, and the remains of a fort upon a small eminence a little above it: at night we stopped at Bujebàra, close to the cape of the same name, with which Derna forms a large bay; and which has three rocky islets lying off it. The mountains, which extend in a range along the coast, at a distance of from a mile to a mile and a half, are continually broken by deep ravines which cross the beach in their passage to the sea, and make the road in some places nearly impassable.
It was curious to observe the gradual increase of vegetation in passing from Derna to Apollonia by this route: the mountains at the former place, as we have already mentioned, are perfectly destitute of any; in advancing, a little underwood is here and there seen, and a few bushes sparingly dotted about the plain; these increase by degrees, as the country becomes bolder, and gradually spread themselves over the sides of the hills, ascending higher and higher every mile, till, in approaching El Hyera, one continued wood reaches down from the top of the mountains to the sea. On the third, we pursued our journey along the coast by a very indifferent road, and at two miles’ distance from Bujebàra the range comes down close to the sea and terminates in perpendicular cliffs, along the edge of which we were obliged to pass to the great risk of our horses and camels. At the foot of these, which is washed by the sea, we noticed a small rocky point with a quarry upon it, extending itself in a semicircular form so as to afford some protection for boats which might also be hauled upon the sandy beach within it. Eight miles to the westward of Bujebàra we came to a deep ravine, through which ran the largest body of water which we had seen in Africa; it is called Wady Elthroon. The sides of this ravine, which proceeded from an immense fissure between the mountains, were thickly clothed with pine, cypress and olive-trees, and the river, which ran with some rapidity, was studded with small islands covered with oleanders, which we found in full bloom as we passed. Along the brink of the stream was spread a beautiful turf, which opened in little plots, broader or narrower, according to the nature of the ground, on which we threw ourselves down to take a few minutes rest and enjoy a long draught of the clear cool water and a short dream of Arcadian felicity. In truth, the spot was delightful—we scarcely recollect to have seen a more pleasing one anywhere—and to meet with such a scene in an African climate was to render the view doubly grateful.
Ascending the opposite side of the ravine, we entered a country fertile in corn and which seemed to be very well peopled; here we found some ruins very much decayed and mutilated, apparently those of an ancient town of small dimensions, which, as its situation will be found to correspond, we will venture to suggest as the Erythron of Ptolemy; and indeed the similarity of the names would naturally lead to this conclusion.
On leaving Elthroon the road took a westerly direction, at the foot of the range, through a country well cultivated in some parts and in others overrun with pine-trees. At every mile we were interrupted by a provoking ravine, which we hardly knew whether most to admire for its beauty, or to exclaim against for the serious impediments which it presented. Night brought us to El Hilàl, a mountain so called. The point of El Hilàl extends to the north-east and forms a bay of about a mile in depth, in which even large ships might find shelter with the wind from north to south-east by east. It is in this spot that Cellarius has placed a naval station and town, and there are certainly remains at the present day about it indicative of an ancient site, while the harbour itself would be sufficiently qualified for a naval station to correspond with that part of the description. Two ancient forts are seen in ruins on the cliff and we noticed an ancient tomb which is excavated in the rock, close to the ravine, retaining still a very handsome façade. Three miles to the eastward of the forts at El Hilàl are some others, also in ruins, and the remains of strong walls in the neighbourhood of stone-quarries, all of which would seem to point out the spot as an ancient station. This place has also the peculiarity of being the only part of the coast which can be seen from Cyrene, from which it is distant about fourteen miles. In Ptolemy’s chart we find a naustathmos (or naval station) placed on the western side of this promontory; but we saw nothing that would answer to the position in that direction. Ras El Hilàl, with Bujebàra on the south-east, forms an extensive bay; and another with Cape Rasát on the north-west near the centre of which is situated (now called Marsa Suza) the Port of Cyrene, Apollonia. From El Hilàl commence two ranges of mountains extending themselves to the westward, one along the coast, from it to Ptolemeta, forming the southern boundary of the plain on which Apollonia is built; the other rising in a range above these, diverging towards Merge and abreast of Cape Ras Sem. At El Hilàl we found an Arab encampment and obtained from it a goat and some corn for our horses. The Bedouins were civil and obliging, and brought us out a very acceptable present of kuskusoo, for which we made a suitable return. They would, however, have had but little reason to be satisfied with the conduct of strangers whom they had treated with courtesy, if we had not very fortunately made a discovery on leaving them which our Chaous had not probably anticipated. We had made it a practice in the course of our journey to pay the Arabs for whatever we had of them; and although this practice is considered by Turks not only as superfluous but very plebeian, we found it more consistent with our ideas of propriety, and at the same time more politic than if we had adopted a line of conduct more dignified and less honest.
Our Chaous had received from us a sufficient sum of money to make a liberal return to the Bedouins of El Hilàl for the corn and the goat which they had supplied us with; but instead of complying with our orders on this head he thought it more adviseable to keep the piasters in his purse than to distribute them as he had been directed: and we should accordingly have left behind us a much worse character for liberality than we deserved, if this discovery had not been made before we took our departure. Chaous Massoud looked rather foolish when the charge was brought home to him, too well substantiated to admit of denial, and we afterwards found that his honesty in other matters was not greater than on the occasion here alluded to. On our arrival at Grenna we sent him back to Derna and procured another Chaous from Bey Mahommed. Massoud was an Egyptian, and took every occasion to show his superiority, in point of civilization, over the Arabs and Moors of the west. He was particularly proud of his singing; and as his lungs were nearly equal to his conceit, was never tired of displaying his fancied abilities to the utmost extent of his voice, not dreaming for a moment that any of his auditors could possibly be less amused with his efforts than himself. With this view, he always kept close to our side, adapting the pace of his horse to ours, and quavering without intermission. His voice was good, and had he been able to moderate it, and to use it only on proper occasions, would rather have cheered than annoyed us on the road; for his songs had some subject, and were infinitely preferable to the tiresome monotony and endless repetition of two or three unmeaning words which had been so unmercifully dinned into our ears ever since we left Tripoly. The songs of the Arabs are however not always without a subject, as the examples which we have of their poetry in England will testify; but we are obliged to confess that the greatest attempts at invention which we ourselves noticed in a journey of seven or eight hundred miles were nothing more than short allusions to what was going forward at the time, or to something which was in anticipation. For instance, in ascending a hill, the song of our Arab companions would be—“Now we are going up the hill—now we are going up the hill.” And in descending—“Now we are going down—now we are going down.” Each sentence being repeated all the time the action alluded to was going forward, without the slightest variation of any kind. In approaching a town, the song would consist of something about the time we were likely to arrive there, or what good things were to be had at the place—eating being usually the summum bonum. On our return to Bengazi in June the whole burthen of our camel-driver’s song for three days was the reward which he expected to have for driving his camels so fast.
It was late in the evening when we arrived at Apollonia, without having met with a single human being; our road led chiefly over a stony country intersected by deep ravines, which our horses had the greatest difficulty in crossing.
We were told at El Hilàl, that we should find Arab tents and plenty of water at Apollonia, but neither of these had we the good fortune to meet with, after a long and very diligent search.
We accordingly began to dig a well in the sand, but the water which drained into it was too salt to drink, and our labour was wholly thrown away. The day had been hot, and the exertions which were necessary in getting our horses safely across the deep and numerous ravines which obstructed our passage from El Hilàl to Apollonia, had tolerably exhausted the strength of our party before we arrived at our journey’s end; but the circumstances in which we were placed had the effect of renewing it for a time, and it was midnight before we discontinued our search for Arab tents, and our efforts to procure a supply of water. As no hopes of finding either appeared to be left us, we gave over the search, and retired to our tents; the water-skins were carefully drained, and afforded us something less than a pint, which was divided amongst the party, consisting of eight, and we laid ourselves down to sleep away the inconvenience which we had not been able to remedy. At daylight on the fifth we rose to make our way to Cyrene, which we knew could not, at all events, be more than half a day’s journey to the southward; but ill fortune still pursued us, for neither our Chaous, nor the camel-driver, had any knowledge whatever of the road. As we knew, from our actual position, that we could not well be mistaken in the direction of Cyrene, we set out upon the chance of finding some track which might eventually lead to the point required; and after following several paths, one after the other, all of which only led us into the wood and left us, a great part of the day was consumed without effect. It was too late to think of returning to El Hilàl, for it would not have been safe to cross after dusk the many deep ravines which interposed in that route, and we determined to make our way over the mountains which lay between us and Cyrene, since we could not find a pass leading through them. We knew that on reaching the summit of the range we should have a view of the place we were bound to, which could not, in a straight line, be far from us; but our project was soon discovered to be more easily projected than executed: for the sides of the mountain were thickly covered with wood, among which we were obliged to scramble as we might, and after dragging our horses for several hours through these impediments, and over the rough stony ground and slippery parts of the rock, we found, on reaching the top of one hill, that another was before us, as difficult to pass as the one we had just surmounted; and that a thickly-wooded valley must be crossed before we could attain even the foot of it. By this time the camels which had pursued a different track were discovered on the opposite side of a ravine, and we flattered ourselves that they had succeeded in finding the right path; it was impossible however for us to join them without retracing our steps, and we knew that we should never have been able to get our horses down the hill, which had cost them so many leaps and heavy falls to ascend; nothing therefore was left but to push on as well as we could, and after four hours’ labour, such as we never experienced, and have certainly no wish to encounter again, we reached the top of the range and stopped a few minutes to refresh our horses, who were covered with foam, and trembling so much with terror and fatigue that a halt had become unavoidable. They had been, like ourselves, for nearly two days without water, and the heat of the weather, joined to the exertions which were necessary, had rendered thirst doubly annoying. On arriving at the summit of the range our view was still impeded by wood, and though we climbed several trees, to look out for an object which might guide us on the way which still remained for us to take, we could not succeed in overtopping the forest which lay between us and Cyrene. Our course was therefore still doubtful, and in a short interval which we devoted to rest, it was proposed that some of us should push on in advance, leaving the horses in charge of the others, and endeavour to find some opening: this was accordingly done, till our voices could scarcely be heard by each other, but still without any success. Beyond this distance it would not have been prudent to go, as we should scarcely have found one another again, had we ventured to ramble out of hearing. As it was, we experienced some difficulty in re-assembling our little party, consisting of four, and began once more to lead our horses forward who were very unwilling to move. After some further search, we came suddenly on a path which crossed us at right angles in our course; and as it was broad and evidently led through the wood, we determined at all events to follow it. It continued to be practicable and commodious, to our great relief and satisfaction; and we forgot, for a time, all our troubles, in the prospect of a speedy release from the embarrassment which our trip over the hill had brought upon us.
This path was very fortunately the right one, and led direct from Cyrene to Apollonia; but as it came into the plain at some distance from the point at which we began to ascend, and was wholly concealed by the wood which covered the sides of the mountain, it escaped our observation altogether, till we crossed it at the top of the range. After following it for some time we came to an open space, and were gratified with a view of Cyrene, which in the course of a few hours more we reached, and found ourselves once again by the side of the fountain which appeared to us, after our long abstinence, more attractive and beautiful than ever.
We found on inquiry that our camels and baggage had not arrived, a circumstance which rather surprised us, as we expected from the view which we had had upon the road that they would have been in advance of us. Two men were immediately despatched in search of them, carrying a skin of water which we knew from our own experience would be acceptable, and after sun-set we had the pleasure of seeing them arrive without any material loss or accident. It appeared that the road up the mountain which they had been observed to take terminated abruptly at the foot of a precipice, a circumstance which greatly surprised them, for the track which they followed was undoubtedly trodden, and, as it seemed to them, very recently. No outlet, however, was on any side visible, and as they stood pondering on the object of a road which led only to the base of a high perpendicular cliff and was closely hemmed in by thickets and brushwood, they thought they heard a mill at work, the sound of which seemed to come from above[3]. As they looked up with astonishment towards the side of the mountain, from which the noise apparently came, they clearly heard a soft female voice issue from it, and soon perceived two very pretty young Arab girls looking out of a square hole on the side of the precipice, at the height of about an hundred and fifty feet above their heads—the place being not only inaccessible from below but equally so from above, and indeed on all sides of it, owing to the smoothness and perpendicular surface of the cliff in which it was formed.