We left our camping-ground at length next day, having overcome the obstinate sluggishness of the blacks, and marched nearly nine hours. The barren forms of the desert begin now to appear, the ground being broken up into huge hills that run mostly in circles, and groups, and broad stony valleys. The formation is limestone, often containing flints, with a little sandstone. Patches of barley here and there splashed this arid surface with green. At a great distance we saw two or three Arab tents, and one flock of sheep. Towards evening began to appear a number of beautiful bushy trees, somewhat resembling our oak in size and appearance. The Arabs call them "Batoum." They do not seem to have yet received their proper botanical classification. Desfontaines describes the tree as the Pistacia Atlanticis. It greatly resembles the Pistacia lentiscus of Linnæus. A few solitary birds, a flight of crows, lizards and beetles on the ground; no other signs of life.
The next day the country became more barren still, and the batoum disappeared. The patches of barley likewise ceased to cheer the eye; and little pools of water no longer sparkled in the rocky bottoms, as near Kaleebah. The geological formation was nearly the same as yesterday; but pieces of crystalline gypsum covered the ground, and the limestone here and there took the form of alabaster. Some of the hills that close in the huge basin-like valleys are of considerable elevation, and have conic volcanic forms. All was dreary, and desolate, and sad, except that some ground-larks whirled about; lizards and beetles still kept crossing our path; and a single chameleon did not fade into sand-colour in time to escape notice. No animals of the chase were seen; but our blacks picked up the dung of the ostrich, and a horn of the aoudad. Here and there we observed the broken columns of Roman milestones, some of them covered with illegible inscriptions. The sockets generally remain perfect. We saluted the memory of the sublime road-makers.
About noon, as we were traversing these solitudes in our usual irregular order of march, a crowd of moving things came in sight. It proved to be a slave-caravan, entirely composed of young girls. The Gadamsee merchants who owned them recognised me, and shook me by the hand. Our old black woman was soon surrounded by a troop of the poor slave-girls; and when she related to them how she was returning free to her country under the protection of the English, and wished them all the same happiness, they fell round her weeping and kissing her feet. One poor naked girl had slung at her back a child, with a strange look of intelligence. I was about to give her a piece of money, but could not; for, the tears bursting to my eyes, I was obliged to turn away. The sight of these fragments of families stolen away to become drudges or victims of brutal passion in a foreign land, invariably produced this effect upon me. This caravan consisted of some thirty girls and twenty camel-loads of elephants' teeth. They had been seventy days on their way from Ghât, including, however, thirty-four days of rest. Most of these poor wretches had performed journeys on their way to bondage which would invest me with imperishable renown as a traveller could I accomplish them.
The caravan was soon lost to view as it wound along the track by which we had come. This day was exceedingly hot, whereas the previous days had reminded us of a cool summer in England. The nights have hitherto been clear, and the zodiacal light is always brilliant. Our blacks keep up pretty well. There are now nine of them; five men, three women, and a boy. They eat barley-meal and oil, and now and then get a cup of coffee. I also feed the Fezzanee marabout, besides those specially attached to the expedition. As to the camel-drivers, they are an ill-bred, disobliging set, and I give them nothing extra. How different are our negroes! They are most cheerful. As we proceed, they run hither and thither collecting edible herbs; and, like children, making the way more long in their sport. Sometimes their amusements are less pleasant, and they seem systematically to take refuge from ennui, in a quarrel. Two of them began to pelt each other with stones to-day; allies dropped in on either side; laughter was succeeded by execrations; and the whole caravan at length came to loggerheads.
The sidr, or lote-tree, is abundant in these parts, and it is curious to notice how in the spring season the green leaves sprout out all over the white burnt-up shrub. All vegetation in the desert that is not perfectly new seems utterly withered by time. There is scarcely any medium between the bud and the dead leaf. Infancy is scorched at once into old age.
As we advanced, the country appeared to put on sterner forms, until suddenly, in the afternoon, the rocks opened to disclose the Wady Esh-Shrâb nestling amidst limestone hills, and containing the pleasant oasis of Mizdah. Its beauties consist, in reality, but of a few patches of green barley and scanty palm-groves; but, in contrast to the sultry desert, the scene appeared really enchanting.
We have now left the Troglodytes behind us. Mizdah (eight summer and ten winter days from Ghadamez, three short days from Gharian, and the same from Benioleed) is built above-ground, and consists of a double village, or rather two contiguous villages, inhabited by people of the Arab race. Each division is fortified after a fashion, with walls now crumbling, and with round crenulated towers. One large tower, some fifty feet high, has stood, they say, four hundred years. I asked, What was the use of these fortifications? and was naïvely told they were for the purposes of shamatah, "war," or rather "rows." And true enough, before the Turks extended their power so far, these two beggarly villages, fifty miles from any neighbours, were in constant hostility one with the other. Each had its great tower, a giant among all the little towers—a kind of keep, to which the defeated party retired to recruit its strength or escape utter destruction. This is likewise the case with many other double towns of the Sahara, and seems to prove that war is the native passion and trade of man. At any rate, punishment for such turbulence has not been wanting; for in this, as in so many other cases, whilst these poor wretches were engaged in cutting one another's throats, the conqueror has come and established his tyranny. They are now paying the penalty of their love of shamatah in the shape of an impost of four hundred mahboubs per annum, and in numbers are reduced to about a hundred and thirty heads of families.
We had some additional camel-drivers from Kaleebah, who, of course, endeavoured to extort more than they had agreed for. When we had squabbled with them a little, we had the honour of receiving Sheikh Omer, of Mizdah, in the tent. He came with about thirty notables of the place, the greater part of whom sat outside the doorway, whilst he stroked his beard within, indulging in a touch of eau de Cologne and a cup of coffee. We read him the circular-letter of Izhet Pasha, and received all manner of civilities. The next day, indeed, he came to us to serve as guide through the country over which he wields delegated dominion. He had not far to go. His empire is a mere pocket one. The palm-trees are about three hundred in number, and there are but half-a-dozen diminutive fields of barley ripening in the ear, fed by irrigation from several wells which supply tolerably sweet water. A few onion-beds occur in the little gardens, which are partially shaded by some small trees.
Sheikh Omer supplied us with copious bowls of milk; the most refreshing thing, after all, that can be drank in the heat of the day. We were, however, impatient to get off, but had to wait for a blacksmith to shoe the horses of our chaouch. The only knowing man in this department was away at some neighbouring village, and it was necessary to send messengers to find him. There being nothing better to do, the day, accordingly, was spent in quarrelling. We had at least a hundred tongue-skirmishes between our people and the people of Mizdah—between our chaouch and the other chaouch—between our chaouch and the sheikh of the country—between Yusuf and the Fezzanee—between every individual black and every other individual black—Between our chaouch particularly and all the people of Mizdah:—in short, there were as many rows as it were possible for a logician to find relations betwixt man and man.
I must not forget that our chaouch, in spite of all this effervescence, had got up this morning in a very pious state of mind. He told us that a marabout had appeared to him in a dream, and had said, "O man! go to Soudan with the Christians, and thou shalt return with the blessing of God upon thee!" This vision seemed to have made a deep impression upon him at the time, but he had forgotten it long before it had ceased to be the subject of my anxious thoughts—"O God, I beseech thee, indeed, to give us a prosperous journey! But thy will be done. We are entirely in thy hands!"