The sand dunes of the Sahara are interesting to those who are not compelled to travel among them, but to the unfortunates who traverse them they are almost heart-breaking. Imagine oneself standing on an elevation a few hundred feet higher than the surrounding country. There is but one landscape—waves upon waves of the loose rock waste, for convenience called sand, as far as the eye can reach. Sometimes the waves are in long windrows, but oftener they are short and choppy like the surface waves of midocean.
Unlike the ocean waves, in which only the form moves forward, while the water composing it moves up and down only, the sand dune and the material of which it is composed are both moving in the direction of the wind. A breeze even of five or six miles an hour will keep the lighter surface dust moving freely, while a twelve-mile wind will not only sweep along much larger particles but it also carries more of them. And just as the surface, or "skin," friction forms waves at the surface of water, it also piles the desert sand in wave-like dunes.
The loose bits of rock waste are carried along, up the windward slope of the dune until they roll over its crest, where, no longer impelled by the wind, they come to rest. Thus, the crest, built forward by new material constantly added, is advancing. Valleys are filled; old stream channels are obliterated; and the inequalities of the surface are levelled off until the whole landscape is one of shifting, drifting sand.
Notwithstanding all these drawbacks, the Sahara and the arid lands southward to the Sudan are by no means destitute of life and wealth. It is an almost universal custom to speak of the barren condition of the desert. The contrary is the truth; there is no soil elsewhere so fertile and productive. It is vastly superior even to the soil of the lands reclaimed from the bottom of the North Sea.
Water is the magic wand that makes the sands of the Sahara bring forth crops that are marvellous both in quantity and quality. No fruit grown elsewhere in the world can compare with that grown on desert lands, and the French engineers are planning the means whereby water may be obtained. Surface water that is available to irrigate the wastes of the Sahara does not exist. The level of the Nile is so far below the surface on both sides of its own flood-plain that its waters cannot be used for the reclamation of any part of the Libyan Desert, and the same is practically true of the Niger, which barely more than touches the borders of the Sahara. The few wadys, or "dry washes," are destitute of water except when a cloud-burst may fill them; but this happens at intervals of years only.
The engineer takes into his confidence a caravan driver—perhaps an Arab, possibly a Berber, but quite as likely a slave. And the long experience has taught the caravan man where to find the precious water. The engineer then brings his science into play and drives an artesian well. The well thus driven may be a "gusher," but for most of them pumps are required to raise the water to the surface. The best well, however, furnishes water enough to irrigate but a very small area. Indeed, all the lands of the Sahara together irrigated by artesian wells would make an area scarcely larger than the State of Delaware, and all the water thus obtained would not supply New York City!
Nevertheless, the water obtained by artesian wells has proved a great blessing to the dwellers of the desert. If the water is found along one or another of the numerous caravan routes, an increase in caravan commerce is apt to result, for along many routes the volume of caravan commerce depends very largely on the number of wells. The location of artesian wells has also led to the opening of trade along new routes as well, for wherever water can be found there will be camels to drink it.
The date palm is essentially a plant of the desert, or, rather, of the oasis. Nowhere else does it grow in such profusion as in northern Africa. The number of productive trees there is estimated to be anywhere from ten million to twenty million, though the estimate is but little better than a guess. At its full growth the date palm is a most beautiful object. Usually the feathered tops of the trees are the only foliage to relieve the harsh landscape. Like the bamboo, every part of the tree is used. The leaves may be made into fans, or shredded and woven into mats. The wood is used in making the framework of buildings, and the waste material is very handy as fuel. A refreshing fermented drink and a most vile liquor are prepared from the juice. But the fruit, when properly prepared, is the chief food of many thousands of men and beasts. Even the stones, or "pits," of the dried fruit are useful; those which are not sent to Italy to be used for adulterating coffee are made into an "oil-meal" for fodder.
Esparto grass, called "alfa" or "halfa" by the Arabs, is another unique product of the Sahara. In spite of its name, it is not a grass but a flowering plant whose stalk has a tough fibre useful in making cordage and paper. When the plant turns brown and has become dry to the root, the esparto picker gets busy.
By four o'clock in the morning he is at work, his heavy woollen baracan, or blanket, wrapped tightly about him, for the air is not only chilly but almost freezing cold. By sunrise the chill begins to disappear, and a few brief moments is the only interval between piercing chill and midsummer heat. The baracan is quickly shed and the fez, if the picker is rich enough to possess one, is discarded for an esparto hat with rim of mammoth proportions. Esparto grass sandals protect his feet.