The wonders of the world

by John Loraine Abbott

“The greatest part of the soil of the desert consists of pure clay, except some small traces of a calcareous nature. The whole surface is covered with a bed of chalky, calcareous stone of a whitish color, smooth, round and loose, and of the size of the fist; they are almost all of the same dimension, and their surface is carious like pieces of old mortar: I look upon this to be a true volcanic production. This bed is extended with such perfect regularity, that the whole desert is covered with it; a circumstance which makes pacing over it very fatiguing to the traveler. No animal is to be seen in this desert, neither quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, nor insects, nor any plant whatever; and the traveler who is obliged to pass through it, is surrounded by the silence of death. It was not till four in the evening that we began to distinguish some small plants burnt with the sun, and a tree of a thorny nature without blossom or fruit.”

The passage across the Nubian desert, is, in its general features, the same as that over the great desert of Sahara. The following narrative is somewhat abridged from Bayard Taylor’s “Journey to Central Africa.” “My little caravan consisted of six camels, including that of the guide. We passed the miserable hamlet of Korosko, turned a corner of the mountain chain into a narrow, stony valley, and in a few minutes lost sight of the Nile and his belt of palms. Thenceforward, for many days, the only green thing to be seen in the wilderness was myself. The first day’s journey lay among rugged hills, thrown together in confusion, with no apparent system or direction. They were of jet black sandstone, and resembled immense piles of coke or anthracite. The small glens and basins inclosed in this chaos, were filled with glowing yellow sand, which, in many places, streamed down the crevices of the black rocks, like rivulets of fire. The path was strewn with hollow globes of hard, black stones, precisely resembling cannon-balls. The guide gave me one of the size of a rifle bullet, with a seam around the center, as if cast in a mold. The thermometer showed a temperature of eighty degrees at two o’clock in the afternoon, but the heat was tempered by a pure fresh breeze. After eight hours’ travel, I made my first camp, at sunset, in a little hollow inclosed by the mountains, where a gray jackal, after being twice shot at, came and looked into the door of the tent.

“I found dromedary-riding not at all difficult. One sits on a very lofty seat, with his feet crossed over the animal’s shoulders, or resting on his neck. The body is obliged to rock backward and forward, on account of the long, swinging gait; and as there is no stay or fulcrum, except a blunt pommel, around which the legs are crossed, some little power of equilibrium is necessary. My dromedary was a strong, stately beast, of a light cream color, and of so even a gait that it would bear the Arab test: that is, one might drink a cup of coffee while going on a full trot, without spilling a drop. I found great advantage in the use of the oriental costume. My trowsers allowed the legs perfect freedom of motion, and I soon learned so many different modes of crossing those members that no day was sufficient to exhaust them. The rising and kneeling of the animal is hazardous at first, as his long legs double together like a carpenter’s rule, and you are thrown backward and then forward, and then backward again; but the trick is soon learned. The soreness and fatigue of which many travelers complain, I never felt; and I attribute much of it to the Frank dress. I rode from eight to ten hours a day, read and even dreamed in the saddle, and was at night as fresh and unwearied as when I mounted in the morning.

“My caravan was accompanied by four Arabs. They owned the burden camels, which they urged along with the cry of ‘Yoho! Shekh Abd-el Kader!’ and a shrill barbaric song, the refrain of which was, ‘O prophet of God, help the camels, and bring us safely to our journey’s end!’ They were very susceptible to cold, and a temperature of fifty degrees, which we frequently had in the morning, made them tremble like aspen leaves, and they were sometimes so benumbed that they could scarcely lead the camels. They wore long swords, carried in a leathern scabbard over the left shoulder, and sometimes favored us with a war-dance, which consisted merely in springing into the air with a brandished sword, and turning round once before coming down. They were all very devout, retiring a short distance from the road to say their prayers, at the usual hours, and performing the prescribed ablutions with sand instead of water. On the second morning, we passed through a gorge in the black hills, and entered a region called El Biban, or ‘The Gates.’ Here the mountains, though still grouped in the same disorder, were more open, and gave room to plains of sand several miles in length. The narrow openings, through which the road passes from one plain to another, gave rise to the name. The mountains are higher than on the Nile, and present the most wonderful configurations: towers, fortresses, walls, pyramids, temples in ruin, of an inky blackness near at hand, but tinged of a deep, glowing violet hue in the distance. Toward noon I saw a mirage, a lake in which the broken peaks were reflected with great distinctness. One of the Nubians who was with us, pointed out a spot where he was obliged to climb the rocks, the previous summer, to avoid being drowned. During the heavy tropical rains which sometimes fall here, the hundreds of pyramidal hills pour down such floods that the sand can not immediately drink them up, and the valleys are turned into lakes. The man described the roaring of the waters, down the clefts of the rocks, as something terrible. In summer the passage of the desert is much more arduous than in winter, and many men and camels perish. The road was strewn with bones and carcasses, and I frequently counted twenty dead camels within a stone’s throw. The stone-heaps which are seen on all the spurs of the hills, as landmarks for caravans, have become useless, since one could find his way by the bones in the sand. My guide, who was a great believer in afrites and devils, said that formerly many persons lost the way and perished from thirst, all of which was the work of evil spirits. Toward noon, on the third day, we passed the last of the ‘gates,’ and entered the Bahr bela Ma, (river without water,) a broad plain of burning yellow sand. The gateway is very imposing, especially on the eastern side, where it is broken by a valley or gorge of Tartarean blackness. As we passed the last peak, my guide, who had ridden in advance, dismounted beside what seemed to be a collection of graves—little ridges of sand, with rough head and foot stones. He sat by one which he had just made. As I came up he informed me that all travelers who crossed the Nubian desert, for the first time, are here expected to pay a toll, or fee to the guide and camel-men. ‘But what if I do not choose to pay?’ I asked. ‘Then you will immediately perish, and be buried here. The graves are those of persons who refused to pay.’ As I had no wish to occupy the beautiful mound he had heaped for me, with the thigh-bones of a camel at the head and foot, I gave the men a few piasters, and passed the place. He then plucked up the bones and threw them away, and restored the sand to its original level.[^[8]]

[8]. “Burckhardt gives the following account of the same custom, in his travels in Nubia. ‘In two hours and a half we came to a plain on the top of the mountain called Akabet el Benat, the Rocks of the Girls. Here the Arabs who serve as guides through these mountains, have devised a singular mode of extorting presents from the traveler: they alight at certain spots in the Akabet El Benat, and beg a present; if it is refused, they collect a heap of sand, and mold it into the form of a diminutive tomb, and then placing a stone at each of the extremities, they apprise the traveler that his tomb is made; meaning, that henceforward, there will be no security for him, in this rocky wilderness. Most persons pay a trifling contribution, rather than have their graves made before their eyes; there were, however, several tombs of this description dispersed over the plain.’”

“The Bahr bela Ma spread out before us, glittering in the hot sun. About a mile to the eastward lay (apparently) a lake of blue water. Reeds and water-plants grew on its margin, and its smooth surface reflected the rugged outline of the hill beyond. The waterless river is about two miles in breadth, and appears to have been at one time the bed of a large stream. It crosses all the caravan routes in the desert, and is supposed to extend from the Nile to the Red sea. It may have been the outlet for the river, before its waters forced a passage through the primitive chains which cross its bed at Assouan and Kalabshee. A geological exploration of this part of Africa could not fail to produce very interesting results. Beyond the Bahr bela Ma extends the broad central plateau of the desert, fifteen hundred feet above the sea. It is a vast reach of yellow sand, dotted with low, isolated hills, which in some places are based on large beds of light-gray sandstone of an unusually fine and even grain. Small towers of stone have been erected on the hills nearest the road, in order to guide the couriers who travel by night. Near one of them the guide pointed out the grave of a merchant, who had been murdered there two years previous, by his three slaves. The latter escaped into the desert, but probably perished, as they were never heard of afterward. In the smooth, loose sand, I had an opportunity of reviving my forgotten knowledge of trackography, and soon learned to distinguish the feet of hyenas, foxes, ostriches, lame camels and other animals. The guide assured me that there were devils in the desert; but one only sees them when he travels alone.

“On this plain the mirage, which first appeared in the Biban, presented itself under a variety of wonderful aspects. Thenceforth, I saw it every day, for hours together, and tried to deduce some rules from the character of its phenomena. It appears on all sides, except that directly opposite to the sun, but rarely before nine in the morning, or after three of the afternoon. The color of the apparent water is always precisely that of the sky, and this is a good test to distinguish it from real water, which is invariably of a deeper hue. It is seen on a gravelly as well as a sandy surface, and often fills with shining pools the slight depressions in the soil at the bases of the hills. Where it extends to the horizon there is no apparent line, and it then becomes an inlet of the sky, as if the walls of heaven were melting down and flowing in upon the earth. Sometimes a whole mountain chain is lifted from the horizon and hung in the air, with its reflected image joined to it, base to base. I frequently saw, during the forenoon, lakes of sparkling blue water, apparently not a quarter of a mile distant.[^[9]] The waves ripple in the wind; tall reeds and water-plants grow on the margin, and the desert rocks behind cast their shadows on the surface. It is impossible to believe it a delusion. You advance nearer, and suddenly, you know not how, the lake vanishes. There is a grayish film over the spot, but before you have decided whether the film is in the air or in your eyes, that too disappears, and you see only the naked sand. What you took to be reeds and water-plants probably shows itself as a streak of dark gravel. The most probable explanation of the mirage which I could think of, was, that it was actually a reflection of the sky upon a stratum of heated air, next the sand.

[9]. In a previous chapter, Taylor says: “Before returning on board, we saw a wonderful mirage. Two lakes of blue water, glittering in the sun, lay spread in the yellow sands, apparently not more than a mile distant. There was not the least sign of vapor in the air; and as we were quite unacquainted with the appearance of the mirage, we decided that the lakes were Nile water, left from the inundation. I pointed to them, and asked the Arabs, ‘Is that water?’ ‘No, no!’ they all exclaimed; ‘that is no water; that is Bar Shaytan,’ a river of the devil!”

“I found the desert life not only endurable but very agreeable. No matter how warm it might be at midday, the nights were always fresh and cool, and the wind blew strong from the north-west, during the greater part of the time. The temperature varied from fifty or fifty-five degrees at six in the morning, to eighty or eighty-five degrees at two in the afternoon. The extremes were forty-seven and a hundred degrees. So great a change of temperature every day was not so unpleasant as might be supposed. In my case, Nature seemed to make a special provision in order to keep the balance right. During the hot hours of the day I never suffered inconvenience from the heat, but up to eighty-five degrees felt sufficiently cool. I seemed to absorb the rays of the sun, and as night came on and the temperature of the air fell, that of my skin rose, till at last I glowed through and through, like a live coal. It was a peculiar sensation, which I never experienced before, but was rather pleasant than otherwise. My face, however, which was alternately exposed to the heat radiated from the sand, and the keen morning wind, could not accommodate itself to so much contraction and expansion. The skin cracked and peeled off more than once, and I was obliged to rub it daily with butter. I mounted my dromedary with a ‘shining morning face,’ until, from alternate buttering and burning, it attained the hue and crispness of a well-basted partridge.

“I soon fell into a regular daily routine of travel, which, during all my later experiences of the desert, never became monotonous. I rose at dawn every morning, bathed my eyes with a handful of the precious water, and drank a cup of coffee. After the tent had been struck and the camels laden, I walked ahead for two hours, often so far in advance that I lost sight and hearing of the caravan. I found an unspeakable fascination in the sublime solitude of the desert. I often beheld the sun rise, when, within the wide ring of the horizon, there was no other living creature to be seen. He came up in awful glory, and it would have been a natural act, had I cast myself upon the sand and worshiped him. The sudden change in the coloring of the landscape, on his appearance, the lighting up of the dull sand into a warm golden hue, and the tintings of purple and violet on the distant porphyry hills, was a morning miracle, which I never beheld without awe. The richness of this coloring made the desert beautiful; it was too brilliant for desolation. The scenery, so far from depressing, inspired and exhilarated me. I never felt the sensation of physical health and strength in such perfection, and was ready to shout from morning till night, from the overflow of happy spirits. The air is an elixir of life, as sweet and pure and refreshing as that which the first man breathed, on the morning of creation. You inhale the unadulterated elements of the atmosphere, for there are no exhalations from moist earth, vegetable matter, or the smokes and steams which arise from the abodes of men, to stain its purity. This air, even more than its silence and solitude, is the secret of one’s attachment to the desert. It is a beautiful illustration of the compensating care of that providence which leaves none of the waste places of the earth without some atoning glory. Where all the pleasant aspects of nature are wanting; where there is no green thing, no fount for the thirsty lip, scarcely the shadow of a rock to shield the wanderer in the blazing noon; God has breathed upon the wilderness his sweetest and tenderest breath, giving clearness to the eye, strength to the frame, and the most joyous exhilaration to the spirits.