Half an hour after midday, the waters began to subside, and ceased to endanger our little island, which, attacked on all sides by the destructive fury of an impetuous mountain torrent swollen to the dimensions of a considerable river, was fast crumbling to pieces, and scarcely afforded any longer space enough to hold our party and our things. Suddenly, on the western shore, a number of Mehára were seen; at the same time the whole population of Tintagh-odé, in full battle-array, came from the other side, and formed themselves in regular groups, partly round our hill, and partly opposite to the Tinýlkum. While we looked with distrust upon these preparations, most of our muskets having been wetted, the mischievous Mohammed approached our hill and, addressing me with a very significant and malevolent look, cried out, “Lots of people!” The previous afternoon, when I had requested him, while squatting himself insolently upon my carpet, to leave this only piece of comfort for my own use, he threatened me in plain terms, and in the coolest manner, that the following night I should lie on the bottom of the wady, and he upon my carpet. Not put out by his malice, though I was myself rather doubtful as to the friendly intentions of all these people, I told him that the Mehára were our friends, sent by the chief Ánnur as an escort to conduct us safely to Tin-téllust. With a threatening gesture he told me I should be sadly disappointed, and went away. Fortunately, it turned out that the people mounted on camels were really Annur’s escort; but at the same time a large band of robbers had collected, in order to make a last effort to take possession of our property before we should obtain the protection of Ánnur, and only withdrew reluctantly when they saw that they should meet with a strong opposition.
We were then justified in hoping that we had at length entered a harbour affording us a certain degree of security, and with thankful and gladdened hearts we looked forward to our further proceedings. Our present situation, however, was far from being comfortable: almost all our things were wet; our tents were lying in the mud at the bottom of the stream; and our comfortable and strong, but heavy, Tripolitan tent was so soaked with water and earth that a camel could scarcely carry it. Leaving at length our ill-chosen camping-ground, Overweg and I were passing the principal torrent (which was still very rapid), when the camels we rode, weakened by the dreadful situation they had been in the whole day, were unable to keep their feet, and, slipping on the muddy bottom, set us down in the midst of the stream. Soaked and barefoot, having lost my shoes, I was glad to reach in the dark the new encampment which had been chosen on the elevated rocky ground a little beyond the border of the valley. Our beds were in the most cheerless condition, and in an unhealthy climate would certainly have been productive of bad consequences. Aír, however, in every respect may be called the Switzerland of the desert.
Monday, September 2.—Fortunately the weather on the following morning cleared up, and, although the sun came forth only now and then, a fresh wind was very favourable for drying; and it was pleasant to see one thing after another resume a comfortable appearance. The whole encampment seemed to be one large drying-ground.
Having recovered a little from the uncomfortable state in which we had passed the night, we went to pay a visit to the principal men of our new escort, who had seated themselves in a circle, spear in hand, with their leader, Hámma (a son-in-law of the chief Ánnur) in the midst of them. Entire strangers as both parties were to each other, and after the many mishaps we had gone through, and the many false reports which must have reached these men about our character, the meeting could not fail to be somewhat cool. We expressed to the leader our sincere acknowledgment of the service which the chief Ánnur had rendered us, and begged him to name us to such of his companions as were related to the chief. On this occasion Mohammed, the chief’s cousin, who afterwards became a great friend of mine, made himself remarkable by his pretensions and arrogance. They were all of them tolerably good-looking, but they were not at all of the same make as the Azkár and the people living near the border of Aïr. They were blacker, and not so tall, and, instead of the austere and regular northern features, had a rounder and more cheerful, though less handsome expression of countenance. Their dress also was more gay, several of them wearing light blue, instead of the melancholy-looking dark blue tobes.
At about ten o’clock we at length moved on, and chose the western of the two roads, leading hence to Tin-téllust, by way of Fódet; the eastern one passes through Tágo and Táni. Leaving the large green valley of Tintagh-odé on our left, we kept on more uneven ground, passing some smaller glens, till we reached the commencement of the fine broad valley Fódet, and encamped near the cliffs bordering its eastern side. Here the water, rushing down from the rocks in a sort of cascade, had formed a pond, which, however, was not destined to remain long.
Tuesday, September 3.—We made a very interesting march through a country marked with bold features, and showing itself in more than one respect capable of being the abode of man. Turning away from the eastern border, we kept more along the middle of the valley, till we reached the most picturesque spot, where it divided into two branches, the eastern of which, bordered by several imposing mountain spurs, presented a very interesting perspective, of which the accompanying sketch, drawn as it was on the back of my camel, will give only a faint idea.
The whole bottom of the valley, where, the day before yesterday, a mighty torrent had been foaming along, was now glittering with fragments of minerals. We then passed the ruins of some houses carried away by the floods, and met further on a little troop of asses laden with éneli. Our whole caravan was in good spirits; and our escort, in order to give us a specimen of their horsemanship, if I may so call it, got up a race, which, as may be readily imagined, proved a very awkward affair. Two or three of the riders were thrown off, and the sport soon came to an end. The swift camel is excellent for trotting, but it can never excel in a gallop. In our ascent we had reached very considerable mountain masses on our right, when some of our old companions, who had come with us from Ghát, separated from us, in order to go to their village, Túngadu. Among these was Ákshi, a very modest and quiet man, who alone of all these people had never begged from me even the merest trifle, though he gave me some information, and I might have learnt much more from him if I had seen him more frequently. But I had the good fortune to meet with him again at a later period.
The country here became very mountainous, and the ascent steep, till we reached a valley called by some of the Kél-owí the upper course of the valley of Tin-téllust. Having reached the crest of the elevation, we began to descend, first gradually along smaller valleys, afterwards more steeply into a deep ravine, while in the distance towards the south-west, above the lower hills, a ridge of considerable elevation became visible. Gradually the ravine widened, and became clothed with fine herbage. Here, to our great disappointment, the little Ánnur, Dídi, Fárreji, and several of the Tinýlkum (among them the intelligent and active Ibrahím) left us in order to reach their respective residences. Of course Ánnur ought to have seen us safe to the chief’s residence; but being without energy, he allowed our new companions, with whom we had not yet been able to become acquainted, to extort from us what they could, as the Fade-ang and the Aníslimen had done before. Keeping along some smaller valleys, we reached, about noon, a considerable pond of rain-water, where I watered my thirsty camel. Almost all the smaller valleys through which we passed incline towards the west.
