During my stay at El-Arawan the same scorching east wind continually prevailed and obliged me to keep myself within doors, which vexed me not a little.
The caravans which were assembled at El-Arawan prepared to depart in a few days. I looked forward with pleasure to the happy moment when I was to leave this disagreeable country. My host, a zealous Musulman, laid in a supply of provisions for my journey. It was neither to his generosity nor his friendship for me that I owed this attention;—it was purely a sacrifice, which his piety prompted him to make in order to conciliate the favour of the prophet. The provisions consisted of a bag of rice weighing about fifty pounds, a bag of dokhnou of the same weight, and about ten pounds of butter. This was more than sufficient to last me two months. Wishing to make some acknowledgment for the attention of Kalif, I offered him some pieces of silver, a pair of scissors, and a small piece of cloth, the only one I had left. The good Musulman at first affected an unwillingness to accept my presents, saying that I was poor, and that probably the things would be useful to me, and that what he had done for me was solely with the view of serving God. He however put the silver in his pocket, and was apparently much pleased with that sort of money which is very uncommon in this country. He sent my provisions to the tent of Sidi-Aly, a Moor, with whom I was to go to Tafilet. This man, whom Sidi-Abdallahi-Chébir had recommended to me, had received on departing from Timbuctoo ten gold mitkhals (equal to 120 francs) for my expenses in the desert.
A Moor, who was settled at El-Arawan, and with whom I used frequently to converse, made me a present of a skin to enable me to increase my supply of water. He informed me that I should suffer much from thirst on the journey, and that for seven or eight days we should meet with no wells. The description he gave of crossing the desert at this season made me shudder. I thought I should certainly share the fate of the many unfortunate travellers who had perished there. However I rallied my courage, by dwelling on the hope of relating in my native country the result of my observations. I then no longer thought any difficulty insurmontable.
Sidi-Aly, whom I had not seen at Timbuctoo, and to whom Sidi-Abdallahi, my host, had strongly recommended me, gave me extraordinary proofs of his regard. He assured me that he would treat me as his son. He confirmed the report I had previously heard respecting the scarcity of water on the road, and stated that we should have to undergo great privations, but that I must not be disheartened, as he would take care of me, seeing that I was not like the rest, accustomed to the heat of the desert, and could not so well bear the excessive thirst, to which we should often be exposed. This person was looked upon by the Moors as a zealous Musulman. I was assured that he feared God, and that he would act towards me as he had promised. Sidi-Aly always carried in his hand a rosary two feet and a half long, the beads of which were as large as nuts. He never failed, when he met any one in the streets, to cast his eyes piously on the ground, at the same time moving his lips, as if he were muttering a prayer. By this hypocrisy he imposed on me, as he did on others, and I believed that he was as good as he pretended to be; but I was cruelly deceived. Notwithstanding his feigned zeal for religion, the old hypocrite did not keep one of the promises he made me, as will be seen in the sequel.
We left El-Arawan on the 19th of May 1828, at six o’clock in the morning. Aly, my guide, had sent his son to carry my luggage to the place appointed for the rendezvous of the caravan. My host had invited me to share his repast; but as it was not cooked, I was obliged to set off without tasting anything but a little dokhnou and millet. He again recommended me to my guide, and took his leave of me after wishing me a prosperous journey. It was about half past seven, when the caravan began to move to the N. E. I was concerned to see the poor slaves, whom I recognized as having been my companions from Jenné to El-Arawan, running through the sand to overtake the camels, which were in advance.
Our caravan was numerous: it consisted of fourteen hundred camels, laden with the various productions of the Soudan; as gold, slaves, ivory, gum, ostrich-feathers, and cloth in the piece and made into dresses. In leaving El-Arawan the road leads over a sandy country, with but few traces of vegetation. After proceeding six miles in this direction, we arrived at Mourat, a small village, containing five houses like those of El-Arawan, and built of sand bricks. At Mourat, the sons of Sidi-Boubacar, chief of El-Arawan, keep a school, where the children of the inhabitants of the town study the Koran. Mourat appeared to me even more gloomy than El-Arawan; the uniformity of the soil is broken only by a few plants, which are eaten by the camels, and which are buried beneath the sand, drifted by the east wind. On leaving Mourat, the traveller comes to some deep wells filled with brackish water. Here our caravan stopped and took a hearty draught, for we were now about to enter upon a part of the desert where we should find no water for the space of eight days. In the midst of these vast deserts, the wells of Mourat, surrounded by fourteen hundred camels, and by the four hundred men of our caravan, who were crowded round them, presented the moving picture of a populous town; it was a perfect tumult of men and beasts. On one side were camels laden with ivory, gum, and bales of goods of all sorts; on the other, camels carrying on their backs negroes, men, women, and children, who were on their way to be sold at the Morocco market; and further on, men prostrate on the ground, invoking the prophet.
This spectacle touched and excited my feelings, and in imitation of the devout Musulmans, I fell on my knees; but it was to pray to the God of the Christians: with my eyes turned to the north, towards my country, my relations, and friends, I besought the Almighty to remove from my path the obstacles which had stopped so many other travellers; in the ardour of my wishes, I imagined that my prayer was granted, and that I should be the first European who had set out from the south of Africa, to cross this ocean of sand, and succeeded in the undertaking. The thought electrified me; and while a gloom hung on all other faces, mine was radiant with hope and joy. Full of these sentiments I hastened to mount my camel, and to penetrate fearlessly into the deserts which separate the fertile Soudan from the regions of northern Africa. I felt as if I was mounting the breach of an impregnable fort, and that it was incumbent upon me to sustain the honour of my nation, by divesting myself of every kind of fear and braving this new peril.
A boundless horizon was already expanded before us, and we could distinguish nothing but an immense plain of shining sand, and over it a burning sky. At this sight the camels uttered long moans, the slaves became sullen and silent, and, with their eyes turned towards heaven, they appeared to be tortured with regret for the loss of their country, and with the recollection of the verdant plains from which avarice and cruelty had snatched them.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Violence of the east winds — Pillars of sand — Scarcity of water — Deplorable situation of the caravan — Hills of loose sand — Rocks of granite — Wells of Telig — Toudeyni, rich salt mines — Thistle of the desert — Vexations and persecutions of the Moors, their intolerance — Wells of Cramès — Well of Trasas or Trarzas — Trajacant Moors.