We entered another grove, which stretches far northward into the valley, its produce being, according to our camel-drivers, entirely reserved for the poor. Having passed Tawásh, with its little grove, we entered the fine plantation of Brék, enlivened by the bleating of sheep and goats. Here, in the small fields where corn is cultivated, the ground is thickly encrusted with salt and soda. We at length encamped near the grove of Tewíwa, close to the village of the same name, and to the north side of the Merábet Sidi eʾ Salám.
The next morning, while the camels were loading, I visited the interior of the village. The walls have given way in several places, and the whole made the impression of a half-deserted place; but the little kasbah, which is never wanting in any of these towns, was in tolerable condition. One of the inhabitants, on being asked why the village was so much decayed, told me that a torrent had destroyed a great portion of it nine years ago, in consequence of which the greater part of its population had dispersed abroad, only about twenty families now remaining. But this is the condition of nearly all the places in Fezzán; and it can be partially accounted for only by supposing that many of the male inhabitants go off to Negroland, to avoid being made soldiers. A very extensive grove belongs to Tewíwa; but the plain between the village and the rocks is rather open, only a few patches of corn-field being scattered thereabouts. Three vast and detached buttresses, which jut out from the cliffs into the plain, give a very picturesque appearance to the groves and villages which we passed on our route. We were just proceeding in the best manner, when a halt was ordered, from very insufficient reasons, a little south from the village Tekertíba, where we were to pass the heat. Meanwhile I ascended a ridge of rocks which, a little further down, crossed the valley from the southern border. The ridge was a narrow, steep, wall-like cliff, which afforded a very interesting view of the end, or rather beginning, of the fertile Wady, which was close at hand.
From the highest point of the ridge I descended northwards, crossing a small defile, which is formed between the two rocky buttresses to the north and south, the latter being the more considerable. Along it runs a path, connecting the two valleys. Here I obtained a view of the fresh green valley on the one side, and the destructive sand-hills on the other, and directed my steps to the plantation, where young people were busily engaged in drawing water from the large pond-like wells. The beams, by means of which the water is drawn up, require to be strongly constructed, the whole of the khattár having the height of from sixty to eighty feet. These draw-wells are always placed in pairs; and a couple of miserable asses, partners in suffering, do all the work. The young male labourers all wore straw hats, and had an energetic appearance.
The northern border of the plantation is now menaced by the approach of the sand-hills, which have already overwhelmed the last range of palm-trees. There is a curious tradition in Tekertíba, that from the highest peak of the cliffs bordering the valley on the south side, a rivulet or brook, issuing from a spring, runs down into the valley underground. There were, it is related, originally several canals or stream-works leading down to this subterranean aqueduct; but they have been all filled up. The village itself, on the south border of the plantation, is tolerably large, but is inhabited by only forty families at the utmost, though it is the most populous place in the valley next to Ubári.
By the exertion of much energy, I at length succeeded in the afternoon in getting our little caravan again under way; and we left the Great Wady through the defile, which appears to have been once defended by walls, and, having crossed some irregular depressed plains, encamped at seven o’clock in the evening in a wady with a moderate supply of herbage. Starting on the following morning, at an early hour, we soon emerged into a more open level, beautifully adorned with fine talha-trees, and having with difficulty dragged on our camel-drivers, who shortly afterwards wanted to encamp in Wady Resán, we entered a dreary wilderness, from which we did not emerge till we arrived at the plantation of Aghár, where we encamped.
All the people were eager to reach to-day the first great station of our journey; but owing to the straying of some of the camels, we were unable to start quite as early as we wished. The country in general was very sterile, presenting only a few small date-groves, which we passed at greater or less distance, and at length, when we reached the plantation of Múrzuk itself, we were far from finding in it that picturesque and refreshing character which we had admired in the palm-groves of the Wady. These had formed a dense beautiful shade and fine groups; while the plantation of Múrzuk was scattered about in thin growth, so that it was scarcely possible to determine exactly where it began or where it ended. Thus we reached the wall of the town, built of a sort of clay glittering with saline incrustations; and going round the whole western and northern sides, which have no gate wide enough for a caravan, we halted on the eastern side of the town, not far from the camp of the pilgrims who were returning from Egypt to Marocco and Tawát, till Mr. Gagliuffi came out of the town, and brought us in. Mr. Richardson had arrived about an hour before us. I was lodged in a cool and airy room on the north-east corner of Mr. Gagliuffi’s house, which had within the court a very pleasant half-covered hall. Mr. Gagliuffi treated us with all possible hospitality, and did all in his power to render our stay in the town agreeable.
MURZUK.