I am not aware that this route is ever dangerous, but just before leaving Testour an old Jewess came and with tears in her eyes implored us to allow her son to make the journey to Badja in our company; he was taking some donkey saddles, which he had made, to the market there for sale. Perhaps they might have been tried on the backs of the wrong animals had he crossed the mountains all alone.
At first our road lay up the stream, to avoid the ordinary ferry, which was then impracticable. A Roman bridge had once spanned the river at this point; its remains may still be seen, and a new one is imperatively required, as for a great part of the year the river cannot be crossed in safety.
It was most pleasant to ride amongst the well-kept and highly cultivated gardens which fringe the river-side; everything testified to the richness of the soil and the effect of abundant irrigation. Even the lentisk, which in the shape of tufts of scrub, covers the whole country, seemed to have changed its nature, and grew here to the size of forest trees, shading the road with its dense evergreen foliage.
After crossing the river, which was not done without some risk to our baggage, we skirted the base of a very picturesque mountain, Djebel es-Sakhera, whose red scarped sides and serrated peaks make it a conspicuous landmark for many miles around. On the south flank of it some Roman ruins were pointed out to us, but the spot was far out of our road, and time would not permit us to make a closer inspection of them.
At the foot of the mountain runs a stream, the Oued el-Malah, or Salt River, frequently dry, but during the winter months full of water, rendered brackish by the salts with which the soil is impregnated. To the right of our road are the remains of a stone building, once the Bordj of the Oulad Ayar before their migration further south. We also noticed several miniature zaouias; evidently funds were not forthcoming for the erection of a regular koubba, so a model of one had been constructed about three feet high, of mud and stone, surrounded by a low wall, and here let us hope that the holy man may sleep as soundly in the bosom of the fertile earth, as under a more pretentious edifice.
The road, which had been rising rapidly, now culminated in a wild and picturesque pass over the top of Djebel Kulb-raha (Heart’s Content). There is an utter absence of trees all over these hills, but they are covered with a thick growth of under-shrub, principally of lentisk, jujube, wild olive, cistus, rosemary and diss grass. From this we descended rapidly to the Oued Zergäa, and soon found ourselves in the nearest approach to civilisation we had witnessed since leaving Susa. A calèche and pair was resting by the side of the high road, the course of which was marked by telegraph posts!
The road itself would not be considered very good elsewhere, but it is perfectly practicable for wheeled conveyances, and in fine weather it is no doubt a fairly good one. The lentisk bushes were being cut down in great quantities, to be burnt for the sake of the alkali which their ashes contain, and which, with olive oil, is used to make the soft black soap of the country.
When we had crossed a rather barren ridge we suddenly found ourselves in the plain of El-Badja, a continuous stretch of as fine corn-land as it is possible to see in any country. Not only is the soil naturally fertile, but the crops seem to be cultivated and kept clean with the greatest care. Altogether we pronounced it the best specimen of Arab agriculture we had seen in Tunis.
This town of El-Badja is the chief place of a district, which, together with the territory of the Bou-Salem and that of Tabarca, is governed by a Kaid, a fine old Miralai, named Si Ounas el-Adjaimi. He had taken part in the Crimean War and had evidently formed many friendships amongst the European officers there. He was liberal in his ideas, of great intelligence, and a most kind and courteous host. He lodged us in an excellent suite of apartments on the ground floor of his house, and sent us our meals from his own kitchen.
Native cookery throughout Tunis, at least in the houses of the upper classes, is far superior to anything I have seen in Algeria, probably because the old and faithful family slaves, who are usually charged with it, have become extinct in Algeria. Slavery is abolished in Tunis also, but the institution dies hard, and little boys and girls of tender age are still to be found in many families, but whether they have been born there or imported, was a question which we did not think ourselves called on to resolve.