During this last day, beyond the expanse of sandy waves through which we swam, as it were, had risen ahead some very conspicuous mountains. Even at five in the morning we could see detached along the line of the horizon the highest and most advanced portion of the edge of the plateau of Mourzuk. In three hours the white line of cliffs came in view, looking like a stretch of black-blue sea, contrasting strangely with the sparkling white-sand undulations that stretched to their feet. Some of us thought that an inland sea—never before heard of—had rolled its waters athwart our path, so perfect was the illusion. The heavens, this day particularly, attracted our attention. What a sky! how beautiful! The ground was a soft, light azure; and on its mildly resplendent surface were scattered loosely about some downy, feathery clouds, of the purest white—veils manufactured in celestial looms!
We expected to reach our premeditated halting ground about noon, or before, these cliffs seeming so near. But as day wore on, new expanses of glittering desert seemed to stretch out before us; and every hillock gained disclosed only the existence of new hillocks ahead. Meanwhile the hot wind still blew with unremitting violence, scorching our faces, and penetrating to the inmost recesses of our frames. The poor blacks, who were on foot, gazed wistfully ahead, and ever and anon called to those who were nodding on the camels, as if stunned by the heat, to tell them if they might hope for rest. I found my eyesight dimming, and deafness coming on. The thermometer was plunged into the sand, and the mercury instantly mounted to above 130°.
At length we sighted the wady, stretching like a green belt between the sand and the mountains beyond. We found that we had been traversing an elevated swell of the desert, for we were full three quarters of an hour descending to the level of the valley.
The first specimen of inhabitants we saw on arriving was a group of naked children with their mother, who covered herself up in her barracan on our approach. The children were nearly all females, and even those of not more than three or four years of age seemed wonderfully developed. They had formed a house out of a thick bush of wild palms over the well.
These people are what are called Tuaricks of Fezzan. They are a dwarfish, slim race; and the Fezzanees call them their Arabs. They cover up their faces like their kindred of Ghât, but have for the most part white thelems instead of black. A few sport a red fotah, or turban. They speak Arabic commonly, but some know also the language of Ghât; which fact connects them certainly with that country. Their proper name is Tanelkum, a genuine Tuarick word, and decisive of their Targhee origin. Their trade is chiefly camel-driving between Ghât and Fezzan. They are a fairer and finer race than the Fezzanees, and do not intermarry with them. Their numbers are not great, perhaps scarcely more than a thousand souls in all Fezzan; but they live in a state of entire independence, and pay no contributions to the Porte.
We passed the first well and came up with the true Fezzanees at the village of Laghareefah, where we encamped. It is situated in Wady Gharbee, more properly called El-Wady par excellence, on account of its superior fertility and culture. There is also Wady Sherky, and several others; as Etsaou, Akar, Um-el-Hammâm, Takruteen, and Aujar. The people of Laghareefah are all of a black-brown hue, and some had the ordinary negro features. They were a little rude at first, but made some compensation in the evening by sending us a good supply of meat and fresh bread to our tents.
To our surprise, we saw nothing of our chaouches here; and on making inquiries, we found that they were not with the caravan. They were known to have pushed on ahead, impatient to arrive. We suspected they had taken the wrong route, and did not remember to have seen the track of their horses' hoofs on the sand as we advanced. At first we were not sorry that they were suffering a little for their bad conduct all the way from Tripoli, to which I have only made passing allusions. But then we began to be alarmed for their safety, and begged the Sheikh to send a man after them with water. They did not make their appearance until morning, when we learned that with immense fatigue they had succeeded in striking the valley lower down at another village, where they had tarried the remainder of the night. As might be expected, they were in no good humour after their excursion in the sand; but our people, who had enjoyed a brief respite of unwonted tranquillity during their absence, instead of condoling with them, received them with laughter and jeers.
The Sheikh Abd-el-Hady sent us breakfast, and he and his people were far more polite than yesterday. We learned that there was a caravan in the wady about to start for Ghât, and I took the opportunity to write to that place to produce a proper impression of our views and intentions, as I learned that a very erroneous one had gone abroad. The Sheikh and his elders came to ask me to lend them twelve mahboubs, to make up the amount of tribute now being collected by the agents of the Pasha of Mourzuk. Of course I did not consent, representing that I was at the outset of a long journey, and that the Pasha would certainly punish them if he ever heard that such a request had been made. As a solace for the disappointment, I gave the Sheikh three handkerchiefs and a pocket-knife. The Tuaricks came in for a little soap, an article seemingly in universal request.
El-Wady is a deep valley, lying like a moat between the elevated sandy desert and the plateau on which Mourzuk is situated. This plateau, at the distance of every few miles, juts out huge buttresses of perpendicular cliffs, which frown over the broken thread of green vegetation in the valley. Thick forests of palms stretch at various points along the low plain, where are springs plentifully furnished by filtration from the high ground on either hand. The various kinds of oasian culture are pursued here with success. Wheat and barley are produced in considerable quantities; and camels, asses, and goats find plentiful nourishment. The villages are numerous; but some contain only few men, and none exceed forty-five. Takarteebah, the largest place, pays four hundred and ninety mahboubs per annum, cultivates four thousand palms, yielding a hundred and fifty kafasses of dates, thirty of wheat, and eight of barley; it feeds eleven asses. I observed that all domestic animals, the goats especially, attain a very diminutive size in these oases, the nourishment for them being but scanty.
In this oasis the palm-groves are much more dense than in any other I have seen. They almost merit the name of forests, both from their size and wild luxuriant appearance. The Fezzanees pay little attention to their culture, and when a tree falls it is frequently suffered to lie for months, even though it block up the public road. In contrast to the burning desert we had just traversed, these dense woods casting their shadows on the white sand produced a most pleasing effect. We eagerly wandered into the cool arcades, and watched with delight the doves and hippoes, and other birds, as they fluttered to and fro amidst the drooping leaves.