THE RAILWAY DESCENDING INTO THE OASIS.
My friend Ball lays great stress on the tortuous nature of the roads between the oasis and the valley, and recommends the scientific traveller to steer an independent course. But after traversing the majority of the main caravan roads, and with a fairly intimate knowledge of the characters of the intervening areas, I must say that, in my opinion, it would be difficult to better them. These roads were not laid out yesterday, but result from the accumulated experience of centuries. The original tracks may have been tortuous enough, but they have become straightened out by the cutting off of corners here and there, until at the present day the roads fulfil the three most important objects in view—the ascent and descent to and from the plateau at the points offering the easiest gradients, and the crossing of the plateau itself as directly as possible over the smoothest and most level ground available. The roads give a wide berth to the outcrops of rough limestone, and anyone who has done much cross-country travelling in the Libyan Desert will appreciate their doing so.
Nor can I concur with the same author in his opinion that the Bedawin of this side of the Nile have a poor knowledge of their beloved desert. It is certainly true that the Arab does, for very good reasons, prefer to travel on the beaten tracks rather than undertake exploratory missions as the crow flies, his main object being to get to his destination as rapidly and easily as possible. If by chance, however, rain should fall on any portion of the desert, the Arab will very shortly be found there, taking full advantage of what Allah has provided in the way of free grazing for his herds. My own experience has been that the Arabs have among them a fair proportion of men with an extensive knowledge of the western desert, and I have frequently been struck by their wonderful knowledge of the roads and the facility with which many of them can follow the tracks on the blackest of nights, as even in broad daylight the landmarks which a European could recognize on second acquaintance are few and far between. The average Bedawi cannot be said to have exceptionally long sight, but he is frequently possessed of a wonderful sense of direction.
Travellers in the Egyptian deserts are apt to underrate the intelligence of the Bedawin, owing to the fact that they unconsciously form their impressions from the miserable specimens of humanity so frequently sent out by the actual owners of the camels to act as drivers and attendants to a hired caravan. In such caravans there is seldom more than one man who knows the particular roads to be followed; the rest are wretched underfed creatures, generally half-breeds, who for a mere pittance tramp day after day, uncomplainingly and shoeless, alongside the caravan. They are much to be pitied, and it would be as unreasonable to expect them to have any special knowledge of the desert as it would be to look for information regarding, say, the mountains of Wales among the poorer classes of a Welsh town.
I do not wish to minimize the value of cross-country traverses carried out with special scientific objects; they are, indeed, often necessary for topographical and geological purposes. I would, however, warn the enthusiastic tyro that, in the Libyan Desert, travelling as the crow flies is not always so simple and glorious an affair as it may seem when planning expeditions from a comfortable arm-chair; and if his object is to get a short cut he will probably have reason to bitterly regret the moment he left the beaten track. I have in mind more than one instance where mistakes of this kind have been made, mistakes which might easily have led to disastrous consequences. In long cross-country traverses an error in steering of only two or three degrees will in a few marches throw a caravan many kilometres out of its course, and guiding camels over rough country by compass is by no means an easy undertaking. Moreover, easily distinguishable landmarks are rare, and the desert plains over wide areas maintain remarkably persistent characteristics. Quite recently I recollect an Englishman, whose Arab attendant had become suddenly incapacitated by an attack of fever or sunstroke, getting hopelessly astray between the edge of the plateau overlooking the oasis and rail-head, which was then only 20 or 30 kilometres distant, in consequence of his missing the bifurcation of the road at El Shugera, and proceeding, owing to this mistake, along the route leading to Sohag.
Along the caravan roads the sharp fragments of rock have been stamped underground or kicked to one side, but elsewhere they usually litter the surface, and are very trying to camels, whose pads, though soft and yielding, are easily worn by much travelling over rough country. This has more than once been painfully impressed upon me by the antics of my own riding camel, whose mode of progression at such times resembled more the dance of a fanatic on red-hot coals than the ordinary gait of a well-bred ‘hegîn.’ Over some areas, however, one can travel in a straight line without let or hindrance, and in such cases it is only necessary to lay out the course correctly in the first instance, and to have the courage of one’s opinion to stick to that course until the destination is reached. One must not heed the remonstrances of the less sporting members of the expedition, who will lose no opportunity of predicting disaster, and in this respect the new chum fresh out from home is generally the greatest offender.
One of the longest cross-country traverses I myself have undertaken in the Libyan Desert was from Farafra Oasis to Assiut. The only road between that oasis and the Nile Valley strikes the latter near El Qusîya, midway between the towns Manfalut and Derut, so that travellers who wish to make Assiut have an additional day’s march southwards alongside the margin of the cultivated lands. On gaining the summit of the pass above Bir Murr, on the east side of the Farafra depression, I abandoned the road and set a course direct for Assiut, steering and plotting my route by compass and plane-table, the distance being reckoned by measuring-wheel. The most satisfactory method of procedure on desert traverses is to lay out a line, representing the correct bearing of the destination, along the centre of the longer axis of the plane-table, and then to steer to any well-marked object lying on either side, but within reasonable distance, of the proper course. At every station the exact position reached is plotted, and steps are taken, when selecting the next point on which to march, to converge towards the correct course marked down the centre of the table.
On this particular traverse I was unaccompanied by Europeans or Bedawin, my camel drivers being fellahin from the Nile Valley. The surface proved excellent going, and the Abu Mohariq belt of dunes, 190 kilometres from Qasr Farafra, was crossed without trouble. Eight days after leaving Farafra village we struck the escarpment of the Nile Valley, having covered nearly 300 kilometres, and found we were marching on a point only very little to one side of the town of Assiut. From this traverse it was possible to calculate the longitude of Farafra with fair accuracy.
The normal rate of travelling of camels carrying ordinary loads weighing from three to four hundred-weight is 4 kilometres, or about 2½ miles, an hour, ten hours being the usual day’s march of caravans when accompanied by Europeans. The native caravans, carrying dates and other heavy merchandise, usually traverse the plateau in three days and nights, doing stages of 60 to 70 kilometres at a stretch. By travelling very light with trotting camels I have, on more than one occasion, crossed from the oasis to the valley in between thirty and thirty-five hours, doing from 180 to 190 kilometres in two stages of about twelve hours each, with one stop only of nine or ten hours.