There was also another legend related to me by the Fezzan Targhee, who was now my guide through this dreary gorge, full of the tombs of the dead. It is too long to repeat. Suffice it to say that, whilst his great-grandfather and other shepherds were tending their flocks on the subjected plains below, a troop of these Christians broke loose from the dark caverns in the mountains, where they are chained, and began to abuse and banter the shepherds, because they did not say, "There are three Gods." The shepherds withstood the temptation and the terror of their countenances, although they, the shepherds, exceedingly quaked. The Christians, in their rage against the shepherds professing so constantly the Unity of God, dispersed their flocks, drove them into the caverns, and disappeared together with the flocks. But the angel Gabriel descended from heaven, and blessed the faithful shepherds, led them on many miles to a desert place, where there were three tholh-trees which had been planted by these reprobate Spirits in adoration to The Three Gods. Now the number of shepherds also happened to be three. The good Gabriel told them to cut down the trees, and burn them separately. The shepherds did so, and for their obedience, from beneath the ashes a great cake of molten gold came pouring out. "These cakes are the Gods of the Christians; there are three of these cakes," said Gabriel. "Take each one, and go, and trade to Soudan," added the angelical messenger; and then in a bright cloud ascended over the top of the mountains. It so happened that his great-grandfather thought three was a lucky number, and wished to become a Christian, whereupon God caused a troop of banditti to fall upon his caravan, who plundered him of everything, and reduced him again to beggary. Such are the tales of Marabouts of The Sahara, quite a match for the legends of our Monks of the good and happy olden times.
As these legends finished, we got up to the top of the range, when a cold bleak wind cut our faces, coming north-east over the plateau, which to my surprise now appeared. I expected to find a descent, or another rounded side of the chain. But all east was a bare, bleak, black plateau, as hideous as desolation could render it, according well with the scenery of the desolate grave-stones we had just seen, and the woeful tales about them we had heard. It was the veritable beach of the river Styx. I turned with a chill of horror from the waste back again upon the valley which we had left. How different the view! Here we beheld the ten thousand fair waving palms, which cover the green bosom of The Wady,—a paradise encircled with ridges and outlines of the most frightful sterility. We now mounted our camels, for it was necessary to face also this new desert. I greatly perspired with the labour of the ascent, and now caught a cold, and had a bilious attack, the only time I was seriously unwell during my nine months in The Desert, and strange enough that it should be occasioned by cold. Our party consisted of myself and Said, the Targhee guide, and Mustapha, the Tripoline Moor, who was going to purchase provisions, and borrow money at Mourzuk. These merchants so ill manage their affairs, that they were nearly out of provisions for their some hundred and odd slaves, themselves and servants, and besides had no money to replenish their stock. Our course was now east verging to the south. On the plain I saw the last of the Touaricks, and it was a noble sight. This was a Targhee Scout, scouring The Desert in search of the Shânbah, well-equipped and mounted on his maharee. He was returning south-west to Ghat, taking the route over the mountains which we had just ascended.
After a few hours we again descended into a small shallow wady, where was a little herbage. We continued all day, and endeavoured to reach a part of the plateau, where were some Fezzan Touaricks tending their flocks, and where it was said we should get milk and a kid of the goat to kill and eat. The whole of the day it was cold, and the wind piercing, which I attributed to the elevated region we traversed. On arriving at a thin scattered forest of tholh-trees we stopped, but being most unusually exhausted by the fatigue of the ride, and the attack of the bile, I could not dismount from my camel, and was lifted off. We searched a long time for the shepherds, and at length their flocks were discovered. I took a little tea, and surrendered myself to rest and to sleep, not being able to eat anything. My companions pretended to seek out and purchase a kid, but unless you furnish the money, nothing of this luxurious sort is ever obtained in The Desert. I had no money, and we had no kid. Meanwhile our people, who had only brought with them dates, ate up my little stock of cuscasou. I had only laid in a sufficient quantity for some fifteen days, from Ghat to Mourzuk. Passed a bad night, and greatly relaxed.
21st.—Up to this time I had always travelled through The Desert with a large number of persons. Our party was now only four. And yet I felt no fear, and went to bed last night in open desert with as much indifference as if I had been in a hotel in Europe. Such is the force of habit. The Desert itself now even begins to wear a homely face to me, and, indeed, for the present, I am obliged to make it my home. We rose early, and I found myself a little better. At the time I attributed my illness to the water of The Wady, but which was incorrect. Before starting, I obtained a bowl of sour milk. To my surprise I saw only women tending these flocks. I asked about their husbands. They were gone away to work in Ghat, Fezzan, and other parts. Here were three or four adult women, and a few children, wandering solitarily in Open Desert! Not a habitation was near for many miles round! I could not help exclaiming, "Are you not afraid of robbers?" "No," replied an aged woman, "I have been here all my life, and shall die here. Why go away? What better shall I find in Mourzuk or Ghat? Can they give me more than milk? More than milk I care not for. And God is here as elsewhere!" Let the reader picture to his mind's eye, three or four lone females, with a child or two, wandering over a sandy plain, tending amongst a thinly-scattered forest of gum-acacia trees a few small goats, without a house or even a hut to sleep under, only the shade of a straw mat suspended in the prickly trees, and, then, repeat and mark well the truth of Pope's fine lines,—
"Order is heaven's first law, and this confess'd, Some are, and must be, greater than the rest,— More rich, more wise; but who infers from hence That such are happier, shocks all common sense."
Our people observed to me, "This is a country of the Sultan, so the women fear nothing." But the environs of Ghadames are the country of the Sultan, which does not prevent the depredations of banditti. There is no water here, they go to Agath to bring their water for themselves and their flocks. Of course, the complexion of these shepherdesses is quite brown or brown-black, by exposure to the weather. I shall ever remember the modest air with which a nomade young woman came and presented us with a bowl of milk. It was modesty's self's picture! The shepherdess nymph stepped forward timidly, with her eyes averted, not presuming even to look at us; and as soon as she placed the bowl on the ground, a short distance from us, she escaped to the thicket of the tholh-tree, like a young roe of the timid trembling herd. On her glowing cheek,—
"Sweet virgin modesty reluctant strove, While browsing goats at ease around her fed."
"And now she sees her own dear flock Beneath verdant boughs along the rock— And her innocent soul at the peaceful sight Is swimming o'er with a still delight."
Such a picture of pure heartfelt shyness and delicate modesty could only be witnessed in these solitudes, where this maiden shepherdess never perhaps speaks to any man but her own way-worn, severe, but honest-hearted father, when he returns from his little peregrinations, bringing a few blankets, a little barley and oil, the staple matters of existence for these lonely nomades. Nothing was given in return for the milk, for we had nothing to give. But if offered it would not have been accepted, by the laws of hospitality amongst these desert Arcadians. The reason now assigned for not giving us a kid, is, all the men are absent, and they cannot part with one, even if money be sent from Mourzuk for payment.