We had sent our camp on by an easier route, so everything was ready for our reception, the usual dhifa was cooked and only waiting to be eaten. Si Mustafa is quite a different type from Bou Dhiaf, and we remarked that the meeting between them on the top of Chellia was not very cordial. He is not a man of ancient family, nor in fact is he in any way connected with the Aures. His ancestors were Turks and he has risen through military service elsewhere to a high position, which ended in his being appointed by the French, Kaid of Bou Hammama. The district appears a fine one, but the village itself is the poorest we have yet seen, and is only occupied during a certain portion of the year. At other times the inhabitants live in tents, following their flocks wherever pasture is most abundant. To-day we rode about twenty-two miles, which occupied us six hours and a half.
On May 6 we started for Ain Meimoun, a distance of nineteen miles. After crossing the plain of Melagou the road enters an undulating plain, and for some distance is comparatively uninteresting. At last it passes into the long and fertile valley of Noughis, one continuous stretch of corn and meadow land. Its general direction is from west to east. It is bounded on the north by low hills and on the south by a lofty range, clothed to its summit with forests of oak below and cedars above. These mountains, facing as they do the north, from which point all the rain of winter comes, retain their mantle of snow till late in spring. Thus the numerous springs and streams are well supplied, and continue to flow even in summer.
There is no doubt that during the Roman occupation this valley was as carefully terraced and watered as the Oued Abdi is now; traces of retaining walls are still visible, though none of the massive foundations so common elsewhere are to be seen. After a long ride through a country which seems to weary the traveller by its monotonous richness, the culminating point is reached and the streams, which have hitherto flowed towards the west, now run in a contrary direction. In the middle of the narrow pass forming the watershed, called Cherf-Noughis, is a mound on which are the remains of what was no doubt a military post, intended to command it. The view from this spot is very beautiful. To the west is the long plain from which we had just passed, bounded by the ever-narrowing hills on either side, till the vista is shut in by the distant peak of Chellia. To the east in the valley of Tasgeen is a total change of scenery. Every trace of monotony has disappeared; the green pasture land mixing with the darker tints of the forest give both softness and grandeur to the landscape, while in the distance, instead of the mountain scenery of the Aures, the view is bounded by the Sebkhas, or salt lakes of the Nememcha and the plain beyond. The road still continues along the north side of the plain, winding amongst the most exquisite forest scenery till it reaches Ain Meimoun.
Here we were met by Si Ismael, the Kaid of Khenchla, quite a different type from any we had seen before. He is a young and handsome Lieutenant of Spahis, belonging to one of the best families in the province of Oran. He speaks French with perfect fluency, and both frequents and seems to enjoy European society.
This place takes its name from a beautiful and copious spring situated just on the edge of the forest, and at the top of a rich clearing, which it serves to irrigate. There is no village here, but both a civil and a military establishment for preparing cedar timber. The former sends the wood for sale to Batna, Constantine and elsewhere; the latter supplies the public works in process of construction at Ain Khenchla, to which place there is a road practicable for carts. No more pleasant spot could be found for a halt. The traveller might fancy himself in one of the finest parts of Switzerland, but with a new and delightful sensation added, the scent of the freshly sawn cedar with which the air is embalmed. If he is a sportsman he may chance to get a shot at a lion. This is perhaps the only part of the Aures where they still exist. We met a brother of the far-famed Chassaing working at the timber-yard. He told us that he had himself killed seven, and that his brother had bagged between fifty and sixty before his death, and that, though they are exceedingly rare now, two had been heard during the previous night.
These grand old cedar forests are the glory of Algeria. Influences which it is difficult to control are causing their gradual disappearance, and there was a time when the reckless extravagance with which the timber was consumed threatened to consummate the evil even in our own time. But greater order has now been introduced into the administration. Wise laws have been framed to prevent the destruction of forests, and we hope that we may never have to lament the disappearance of this noble tree in the words of Shakespeare when he describes the fall of Warwick—
Thus yields the cedar to the axe’s edge,
Whose arm gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whose shade the ramping lion slept,
Whose top-branch overpeered Jove’s spreading tree