At Wady Màmúra I first observed the little green bird generally called asfír, but sometimes mesísa, which lives entirely upon the caravans as they pass along, by picking off the vermin from the feet of the camels. In the afternoon we observed, to our great delight, in the green patch called el Wueshkeh, a cluster of stunted palm-trees. Hereabouts the camel-drivers killed a considerable number of the venomous lizard called bu-keshásh; and the Tarki in particular was resolute in not allowing any which he saw to escape alive. After a moderate march of little more than ten hours and a half, we encamped in a small hollow called, from a peculiar kind of green bush growing in it, el Jederíya. A strong cold wind, accompanied by rain, began to blow soon after we encamped. The tent, not being sufficiently secured, was blown down in the night; and we had some trouble in pitching it again.
Continuing our march, we passed, about ten o’clock in the morning, a poor solitary talha-tree bearing the appellation of el Duhéda. Further on we found truffles, which in the evening afforded us a delicious truffle-soup. Truffles are very common in many parts of the desert; and the greatest of Mohammedan travellers (Ebn Batúta) did not forget them in relating his journey from Sejelmása to Waláta, in the middle of the fourteenth century. The sky was very dark and hazy; and the moon had an extraordinary “dára,” or halo. We slept this night without a tent, and felt the cold very sensibly.
The march of the following day was a little enlivened by our meeting with two small caravans: the first, of five camels; the second, belonging to Ghadámsi people, and laden with ivory, of fifteen. With the latter was also a woman, sitting quite comfortably in her little cage. Shortly after half-past one o’clock in the afternoon, we had reached the highest elevation of the Hammáda, indicated by a heap of stones called, very significantly, Rejm el erhá, 1,568 feet above the level of the sea. We encamped soon after, when a very heavy gale began to blow from the north-north-west driving the swallows, which had followed our caravan, into the tent and the holes formed by the luggage; but the poor things found no protection, for our tent, which was light and high-topped, was blown down again during the night, while a heavy rain accompanied the storm, and we as well as our little guests were left awhile without shelter, in a very uncomfortable situation.
We started rather late the following morning, entering now upon the very dreariest part of the Hammáda, called el Hómra. So far there had been only one track over this stony plateau; but in the afternoon a path, called Msér ben Wáfi, branched off towards the left. This path, which leads to the eastern parts of Wady Sháti, formed formerly the common road to Fezzán, the road by way of el Hasi being considered as too insecure, on account of the robberies of the Urfílla. Hence the latter is still called the new road, “Trík el jedíd.” Richardson, who had had enough of the inconveniences of travelling by night, easily got in advance of us this morning, after our short march of yesterday, and had advanced a good way by daytime. We were therefore anxious to come up with him; and on our way we encountered a heavy shower of rain before we pitched our tent. The whole caravan being once more united, the increased variety of our own party relieved a good deal of the feeling of monotony arising from the desolate character of the country through which we travelled. After marching about seven miles, we arrived at the greenest and largest hollow of the Hammáda, called Wady el Alga, which we ought to have reached yesterday, in order to be able to get this day as near the well as possible.
As it was, when we encamped in the afternoon, we had still a long day’s march before us, and therefore the next day, from general impulse, in order to make sure of our arrival at the well, we started at an early hour, keeping the caravan together by repeated shouting. After a march of about twelve miles, we reached the first passage leading down from the Hammáda and called Tníe Twennín; but it was too steep and precipitous for our rather heavily laden caravan, and we had to continue till we reached the Tníe el ʿArdha, a little after eleven o’clock, when we began to descend from the plateau along a rough winding pass. The sandstone of which it is formed presented to us a surface so completely blackened, not only in the unbroken walls of the ravine, but also in the immense blocks which had been detached from the cliffs, and were lying about in great confusion, that at first sight anybody would have taken it for basalt; but when the stones were broken, their real nature became apparent. Over this broad layer of sandstone, which in some places covered a bed of clay mixed with gypsum, there was a layer of marl, and over this, forming the upper crust, limestone and flints.
After a winding course for an hour, the narrow ravine, shut in by steep, gloomy-looking cliffs, began to widen, and our direction varied less; but still the whole district retained a gloomy aspect, and the bottom of the valley was strewn with masses of black sandstone, while the country ahead of us lay concealed in a hazy atmosphere, which did not admit of an extensive view. Eager to reach the well, the caravan being scattered over a great extent of ground, we three travellers, with one of the shoushes, pushed on in advance, the south wind driving the sand, which lay in narrow strips along the pebbly ground, into our faces. We cherished the hope of finding a cool little grove, or at least some shade, where we might recline at ease after our fatiguing march; but, to our great disappointment, the sand became deeper, and nothing was to be seen but small stunted palm-bushes. But even these ceased near the well, which was dug in the midst of the sandy waste, and had once been protected by an oval-shaped building, of which nothing but crumbling ruins remained.
It was a cheerless encampment after so fatiguing a march; but there was at least no more fear of scarcity of water, for the well had an abundant supply. No name could be more appropriate to this place than el Hasi (the well). There is no need of any discriminating surname; it is “the Well”—the well where the traveller who has successfully crossed the Hammáda may be sure to quench his own thirst and that of his animals. But it is not a cheerful resting-place, though it is the great watering-place on this desert road, as he has to cross the fearful “burning plain” of the Hammáda before he reaches the spot. There are several wells hereabouts, which might easily supply with water the largest caravan in an hour’s time; for the water is always bubbling up, and keeps the same level.
The well at the side of which we had encamped is rather narrow and deep, and therefore inconvenient for a large party; but it is, though slightly, protected by the ruins around against the wind, which is often very troublesome, and was particularly so on the evening of our arrival. Formerly there was here a sort of fortified khan, such as is very rarely seen in these parts, built by the tribes of the Notmán and Swaíd, in order to protect their caravans against the pillaging parties of the Urfílla, originally a Berber tribe. This building consisted of simple chambers, twenty, as it seems, in number, lying round an oval court which has entrances from north and south. It is thirty paces long by sixteen wide, the centre being occupied by the well, which, as it is dug in the sandy soil, bears the general name Hasi. It has a depth of five fathoms; and its temperature was found to be 71⅗° Fahr. The quality of the water, in comparison with that of Taboníye, was very good. The elevation of this place was found by Overweg to be 696 feet; so that we had descended from the highest point of the Hammáda 742 feet.
As it was, we felt heartily glad when our steady and heavy Tripolitan tent being at length pitched, we were able to stretch ourselves without being covered with sand. All the people were greatly fatigued, and required repose more than anything else. Out of regard to the men as well as to the camels, we were obliged to stay here the following day, though the place was comfortless in the extreme, and did not offer the smallest bit of shade. Scarcely any of our places of encampment on the whole journey seemed to me so bad and cheerless as this. If I had had an animal to mount, I would have gone on to a cluster of three or four date-trees, which are said to be at the distance of about three miles west from the well, and belong to the people of Zintán, to enjoy a little shade; but our camels were too much distressed.