25th.—I took a walk in the gardens this evening, and came upon two or three small circular orchards, having within the circle simply room for holding water, like a shallow pond, with fruit-trees, vines, fig-trees, and pomegranates clustering around. These orchards, when thus formed close by the well-side, are very luxuriant. People now begin to sow ghaseb, ghafouly, dra, and such grains, which are reaped in the summer season. Barley and wheat are sown in autumn or winter, and reaped in spring. As I walked I noticed that the sky was darkly overcast, as if threatening rain; and presently, sure enough, a few precious drops fell on the thirsty sandy soil!
I observed a new plant, large, with broad and smooth thick velvety leaves, but omitted to write down the name. It produces a milky juice, with which the people dye the palms of their hands, instead of with henna. The plant has a disagreeable odour, and every appearance of being poisonous; but they say it is not so, being only bitter in taste.
26th.—In my morning's walk I had the coolest weather experienced since our arrival at Mourzuk. The wind was from the north-east and the sky much overcast. It actually rained,—a slight shower of ten minutes' duration. How gratefully the trees seemed to spread their leaves to catch the pleasing drops! The gardens and groves all wore a happy smile. We hear, that lately a great deal of rain has fallen in the Ghât district, and on the route to Aheer.
The people are preparing to thresh their corn, and I was interested in observing all the details of their process. They had scattered yesterday evening the full ripe grain in its dry stalks over the ground, in the form of a large circle, to the depth of about two inches; and had then smoothed the sand all around in small ridges, so that if a thief came during the night they might observe his footmarks. They thresh out the grain by means of four or five asses or camels tied abreast, and driven round and round over this primitive floor. Great waste is occasioned by allowing the grain to mix with and sink in the sand; the task of winnowing is most difficult afterwards.
27th.—This day I had some conversation with Boro, the Sheikh of Aghadez, about the country and localities of Aheer,—a Saharan kingdom never yet explored, and which we intend to traverse on our circuitous route across the desert. It appears that Aheer is the general name of the whole cluster of towns and districts; that Aghadez is the medineh, or city; and that Asouty is a town on the line of the caravan route to Soudan,—a regular halting-place. Asben and Asbenouah are other names given to this same territory, and do not denote other countries. The Tibboos and Bornouese describe the whole territory of Fezzan as Zoilah, a name derived from that of the ancient capital, Zoueelah. These double names have hitherto caused great confusion in laying down unvisited places in the desert. If we can penetrate and explore the kingdom of Aheer or Asben, it will be doing a great service to geography.
28th.—I am studying rural life in the neighbourhood of Mourzuk, as if it were to be my occupation. Scarcely a day passes that I do not escape from the crowded town and wander, either morning or evening, into the gardens, the groves, and the fields. The water raised by rude machinery from the wells is always dancing along in little runnels. The chattering of women crosses my path right and left. Groups of labourers or gardeners occur frequently. A man this day valued a date-palm at a mahboub, and I am told that the greater number are not worth more than a shilling of English money. To avert the evil eye from the gardens, the people put up the head of an ass, or some portion of the bones of that animal. The same superstition prevails in all the oases that stud the north of Africa, from Egypt to the Atlantic, but the people are unwilling to explain what especial virtue there exists in an ass's skull. We go sometimes to shoot doves in the gardens; but these birds are very shy, and after the first shot fly from tree to tree and keep out of range. So we stroll about making observations, to console ourselves for the loss of sport. We noticed several cotton-bushes, but this useful plant is not cultivated here except that it may ornament the gardens with its green. I have just eaten of the heart of the date-tree. It is of a very delicious bitter, and is a choice dish at feasts.
I met with a number of the suburban inhabitants engaged in celebrating a wedding. First came a group of women, dancing and throwing themselves into a variety of slow, languid, and lascivious postures, to the sound of some very primitive string-instrument. Towards this group all the women of the neighbouring huts were gathering, some merely as spectators, others bringing dishes of meat. Beyond was a crowd of men, among whom was the bridegroom helping the musicians to make a noise. These musicians were an old man and old woman, each above ninety years of age. The latter beat a calabash with a stick, whilst the former drew a bow over a single string tied to another calabash. The bridegroom had got hold of a brass kettle, with which he supplied his contribution to the din. Preparations for supper were going on; and, the harmony announcing this fact, idlers were coming in flocks from the distant hamlets and the fields. Two new huts had been built, one for the bride and the other for the bridegroom.
These marriages produce very few children, which may partly arise from licentiousness, but chiefly, no doubt, from misery. I afterwards saw the burial of an old lady, which ceremony set the whole town in motion. The women screamed in crowds, and a great number of men went outside the walls to see the body consigned to its last resting-place. Yusuf pretends that the burial took place two hours after decease, which is the ordinary practice here, although thirty-two hours are said to be the proper time.
To the 21st of May I was occupied in preparing a short report on Fezzan, with statements of the expedition and other necessary documents.
We have had a grand dinner at the house of the Greek doctor Paniotti. The Bey, Bim Bashaw, his adjutant, the treasurer, and others were invited. The French have boasted of the number of their dishes, but I think the Turks beat them hollow in this particular. Besides two whole lambs, fowls, pigeons, there were at least twenty made dishes, with every variety of rich sweetmeat. Amongst the early fruits of the season we had figs and apples. The dinner was not quite so merry as Gagliuffi's, the champagne being absent.