Began to-day to acquire a few words of the Nigritian languages. People are such geese, that when I learnt half-a-dozen words of what some call the "black" language, they thought me a prodigy. The Housa is the best and most frequently spoken language here of the Nigritian tongues. A New Testament, translated into this language, would or could be read by a third of the tribes of Central Africa. Asking my negro master what I was, he replied, "Kerdee," which means kafer ("infidel") in Bornou, the negro mistaking my individual self for the pronoun I, which is oomah. I laughed heartily at the fellow's impudence.
This afternoon, visited the ancient tower, about half a mile distant, westwards, from the walls of Ghadames. My turjeman, who was cicerone, informed me that the tower was built by the Christians, and was a watch-tower to give alarm to the city in case of an attack from banditti or other enemies. There is another like it in the mountains to the north-west, where are also scattered some old masonry of other buildings. We mounted the top of the tower, and found a hollowed space at the top, of this shape—
twenty feet long, eight broad, and about five deep. It was evidently a cistern or tank for the troops, for we saw a hole at the broad end, from which the water ran out. The tower itself was about forty feet in diameter. How high it had been, we could not now tell; but the cistern is placed nearly at the top of what remains of the tower. Probably the water ran down into the lower rooms. From the tops of the ruins there was a commanding view of the oasis, and the surrounding Desert. On our way we passed a very deep, dry well, and the wall-remains of several ancient gardens. The turjeman says the water of Ghadames diminishes, and was formerly much more abundant.
11th.—This morning cooler than any yet. My eyes are now nearly restored from the attack of ophthalmia which I had in Tripoli; they open always with a little pain in the morning. It is frightful to observe how many people here have their eyes injured. A poor camel-driver said to me, "Alas! since I went that road to Ghat, I have been nearly blind. The sand and rock were too bright for them."
An Algerine Arab arrived with those of Souf, a species of vagrant marabout, bringing with him all the lax liberal ideas of French Mussulmans. I thought at first he had been sent as a spy, to see what I myself was doing at Ghadames. The pious Ghadamseeah were confounded at his discourses, as he held forth in the streets. He was very clever and facetious, now and then affecting the saint—now the reformer. When he was gone, I asked the people what they thought of him. They replied, "He's spoilt—he's a French Mussulman—he'll soon be an infidel." Others said, "He's mad." This stranger brings the news that all is peace in Algeria. One of the people asked him, "Whether it was really true that the French had got so far into the interior as Constantine?" The Algerine says also, Abdel-Kader is escaped to The Desert. The Emir had been at war with the French during the summer. My taleb, speaking of the French, observed, "Buonaparte had no father." I endeavoured in vain to persuade him to the contrary; and pressing him to tell me under whose influence he was begotten, he at last said, "You think I'm a fool, but his father was one of the Jenoun ("demons")." This is rather a good ancestry, for the Jenoun are, on the whole, a harmless, pleasant sort of people, a disposition which the war-loving tyrant Corsican rarely showed.
12th.—Rose earlier than usual, before sunrise, in order to go to the marabet[49] of Sidi-Mâbed—سيدي مَع٘بد. My turjeman had married his wife from this place, and therefore accompanied me. He said, "I married one of the daughters of the Saint, and his blood runs in the veins of my children." In all The Desert we find this aristocracy of the gentle blood of the Saints. Sidi-Mâbed is two miles and a half from Ghadames due west. It is situate upon the slope of a small valley, which might formerly have been the bed of a river. To look at this speck of an oasis, its appearance is not unlike that of Seenawan. Around, and near the little village, which may consist of some fifteen very lowly dwellings, is a cluster of palms, and further on are two or three single ones, scattered over the sloping valley. At the furthest distance are some patches of cultivation, the water running gurgling down to them. The gardens are of the same character as those of Ghadames. The inhabitants consist of some seventy souls, all the descendants of one man, the famous saint who has given his name to the village. But according to the account of his sons, his offspring has not increased very fast, for it is several hundred years,—even 900 say they—since His Maraboutship flourished. Some place him as far back as the Flood. It is said that Nimroud did not place his iron hoof on this sacred spot. The daughters of the Saint marry away, only the sons remain in the oasis, and some of these emigrate, which accounts for the smallness of the Saint's offspring.
The children of this Saint, like many a saint himself, are very ignorant, and only one of them pretends to read and write, and to-day he was unfortunately not in the oasis. Those with whom I conversed were simple rude peasants, but polite in their manners, with countenances speaking a serenity of soul and happiness of disposition, not common to the inhabitants of the Saharan regions. They told me their village was Zaweea ("a sanctuary"), and was recorded in the sacred archives of Constantinople as one of the most renowned places in the countries of the Prophet. It is, at any rate, one of the most venerated sanctuaries in the Sahara, and receives pious offerings from all. Amidst wars and tumults, and the depredations of banditti without and around, it remains secure and inviolate and inviolable. This has been its happy destiny through ages, and the villagers, poor and ignorant as they are, may be proud of their sacred unpolluted home. We have here a remarkable instance of the triumph of religious principle over brute force. The people of Ghadames make continual pilgrimages to the shrine of the Saint. The villagers brought our party dates, and all the women and children came out to look at me; the same jealous feelings do not exist amongst these unsuspecting untutored people as in Ghadames and other Desert cities. A happy thought occurred to me before I came away in the morning, of bringing them some wedding-cakes and sweets which had been sent to me: these I brought, with several loaves of bread. They received them very gratefully, dividing them among the whole population of seventy people, a morsel for each. They have no wheaten bread here; they live not on the "fat of the land," as the Christian poverty-vowing monks of our own and past times. These Desert saints are content with a scanty supply of barley-meal, a little olive-oil, and a few dates. I had been told they did not approve of holding Ben-Adam as slaves, and was greatly disappointed to hear a reply from one of them, "If we had money we would have slaves; we have no slaves, because we have no money." By the way, the poverty of North Africa and The Sahara is one of the principal causes of the few domestic slaves now kept, in comparison with former times.
When we had been in the village a few minutes, an Arab soldier came hastily after us. He was sent by the Rais, who was frightened out of his wits, his Excellency giving out, that I should be attacked by banditti. His Excellency said, on my return, "Why, why? (apparently displeased, many people being with him,) whenever you go out, come to me, and I will give you an armed Arab soldier." He added; "You and I will go and see the Zaweea on horseback." The fact is, some of the people were jealous of a Christian going to their sacred village, and considered it a pollution, and the Rais was obliged to make a show of opposition and displeasure. The children of the Saint manifested none of these exclusive jealous feelings, and were happy to see me. In the course of an hour, though my turjeman and myself came off early and secretly, it was known all over the city the Christian had gone to the sanctuary, and the more bigoted were not a little excited. In the village, although everything has the appearance of the most abject poverty, all is bright and clean. The tomb of the Saint remains, but is concealed from the world, enveloped in profound mystery, suitable to the exciting of superstitious feelings. In the gardens were many pretty butterflies. I noticed a single cotton-tree, and gathered two or three ripe pods; the tree looked unhealthy and was very dwarfish. The Sahara is not the place for cotton growing; formerly, however, cotton was grown at Carthage, the Jereed, and other parts of North Africa. Sir Thomas Reade has lately tried cotton-growing on the lands of Carthage, but not succeeded very well. We went to see the date-trees, and seeing one a mere bush, without a trunk, I said; "How long has that been so, will it ever bear dates?" A son of the Saint said; "That tree has been there as long as I can remember. It was always so. Date-trees are like mankind, some are tall, some are dwarfish, some fat, some lean, some bear fruit and others are barren. The root descends into the earth as low as the length of a man. God created this place and gave us this garden. We and our children shall keep it until the Judgment-day! From this garden we shall ascend to that of paradise, where we shall have dates always ripe and ready for eating, for every tree is large and fruitful there. And no man dare touch these trees without our permission, not even the Rais or the Bashaw. We pay nothing to any man; all cast before us their offerings. But we have little because we want little. Such is the will of God." Here then is the abode of inviolate sanctity! here sits the protecting genius of Ghadames, like a pelican in the wilderness! I observed again to-day the burnt volcanic stones scattered over The Desert. They were of all colours, yellow, black, brown, and red, like so many brick-bats. These stones scattered for miles around, together with the hot-spring of the city, and many of the low dull Saharan hills, like so many heaps of scoriæ and lava, give apparently a volcanic origin to all these regions, or render such a supposition probable.
In full Divan it was decided this morning to clear out a little the hot-spring and its ducts running to the gardens, in order to give the flow of water more room. Some old people say their fathers cleaned it out, and the water ran more abundantly; the deeper their fathers dug the well, the more the water gushed out. Others are opposed to the innovation, opposed to all change, being the good old Tories of the Saharan city. All the people are to go in a few days and set to work at this cleaning, that means their slaves. Went to see this evening a sick Touarick, out of town in his tent, and gave him some medicine; but shall be obliged to leave off distributing soon, for the most useful medicines are nearly all finished.
