[182]Pelissier, p. 286.
[183]Guérin, i. p. 413.
CHAPTER XXV.
MUKTHER TO ZANFOUR — BRUCE’S ROUTE FROM KEF TO ZANFOUR.
We left Mukther on the morning of the 19th, not without regret; we would gladly have devoted a little longer time to these interesting ruins, and we would fain have attempted to excavate near some of the principal monuments, but my time was very limited, and we had a certain amount of reluctance to remain more than one day in any place, as we could not but feel that our presence was a tax upon the people.
The first part of the road was very difficult for the mules, but exceedingly picturesque; the country was fertile and well watered, and olive plantations numerous.
About six and a half miles from Mukther we reached an elevated rocky pass, under a peak called Djebel Deir Subah. All along our route we had observed, as usual, the remains of Roman buildings even in places where nothing but diss grass now grows. From this point there was a most extensive view. To the south Djebel Trozza bounds the horizon, and the ruins of Mukther are seen in the middle distance; to the north we could plainly see both the city of Kef and the ruins of Zanfour. Descending from this we passed Magherawa, the first stone village we had met since leaving Susa: it is composed of very poor hovels, built on the site of an ancient town, but its position is delightful. Above it is a fine spring, which soon widens out into a little stream; the ground is richly cultivated, and there are numerous fine groves of olive trees. Here it was that Sir Grenville Temple[184] found the Punic inscription, No. 142, which he has given in his work, and fragments of rudely-sculptured bas reliefs of men and animals, but no Roman inscriptions. The mere fact of these people living in permanent stone villages is sufficient to prove them descendants rather of the original Berber races than of their Arab conquerors. Soon the valley widens out into the plain of Sers, by far the richest and most highly cultivated that we have hitherto seen; olive groves are numerous, and stone villages commence to replace the woollen tents of the nomad Arab.
We stopped to rest for a short time at El-Lahs, a small village near a magnificent wood of olive trees. A little before entering it we passed a fine spring of water, which issues from a cavity of the rock; a number of Arab girls were washing their clothes in it, and did not appear particularly averse from seeing or being seen by us; but as soon as our escort came in sight, veils were brought into use, and the youngest of them scampered away and hid their faces till we had gone out of sight. The appearance of Europeans must be rather a startling event, to be talked of for years afterwards, and to serve, no doubt, as an epoch in their simple chronology. I only trust that they did not jump at the conclusion that all Europeans resembled us; they might well style us, as the Chinese did, ‘red devils.’ Our faces and hands were scorched and excoriated by constant exposure to the sun; and our costume, though very convenient for travelling in Tunis, was rather travel-stained and would have been thought peculiar in more civilised lands. Modesty prevents me from making any allusion to my own personal appearance, but I am bound to admit, that my companion looked about as disreputable a character as it would be possible to meet even in the wilds of his native Ireland.
We did not enter the village, but sat down under the shade of the olive trees on a grassy mound outside, and regaled ourselves with a bowl of fresh warm milk. Generally it is difficult to obtain this, save early in the morning, or late in the evening; the milk is kept in vessels, which are never thoroughly cleansed and which turn it almost immediately; but the Arabs like it so, and even prefer it the second day when it has quite curdled.