The next morning the sun rose in a thick mist, like a November fog in England. Its pale white orb could be gazed at without wincing; below it was a luminous spot, like a second sun, and again below this a long line of bright light rested on the horizon. At eight the mist began to disperse, and then in the opposite side of the heaven a distinct bow of white was visible, faintly fringed at the lower extremities with the prismatic colours. Twenty hours of travelling during two days, over unmitigated sand, brought us to the skirts of the oasis of Augila. It was near sunset when I rode into the palm-tree plantations to seek a place for the camp. The first appearance presented to the eye by the large plantation rising in the midst of the loose sand, was most singular. The rosy light which coloured the ground when the sun’s rays penetrated the tall stems, gave the part which was in shade a white appearance like snow, which, contrasted with the bright green of the bushy young palms, lent to the whole the appearance of a winter scene, while the air was balmy as summer, and the bright evening sky glowed with orange and purple tints, such as Italy or Greece cannot show. The scene one might liken to a Flemish snow-piece seen in Naples on a summer’s day.
CHAPTER XIV.
Augila and Jalo. اوجله and جالوا. — Group of Oases. — The Majabra Arabs. — The Sultan of Waday. — Turkish Drunkards. — Inconveniences of Travel.
November 17.—The palm groves extend for more than three miles in a curved hollow to the town of Augila, and nearly as much beyond it, forming almost a half circle of verdure. The fertile part of the oasis is considerably beneath the level of the surrounding country, so that the water being nearer the surface, the roots of the palm trees, which pierce downwards to a great depth, reach it, and thus obtain their nourishment. The town is built on a slight elevation, nearly equidistant from the two furthest points of the oasis. It is surrounded by a thin mud wall, some twelve feet high, but not more than nine or ten inches thick; this wall is in a most delapidated condition, in several places entirely destroyed, and in others worn into innumerable holes. Six gate towers of equally substantial architecture give entrance to the long and tortuous lanes of the capital.
Sheikh Othman-el-Fadil, the hereditary Sheikh of Augila, and the Kehia who happened to be in the town, came to my tent as soon as I arrived. The former I had seen in Benghazi, and he showed me every attention, convenient and inconvenient, in his power, by way, probably, of asserting his right to the family name, which means “the complaisant.” I returned the Governor’s visit, and thus had an opportunity of seeing “the castle,” which is situated near the great mosque—a not less ruinous structure than the external walls. It is composed of several very small courts with recesses, which serve as sleeping or store rooms; the open court, in which are mastabahs—mud divans covered with carpets—is the place of reception. The Governor either could not or would not tell me the number of inhabitants, or even of the houses, saying they were written in the Deftar, the domesday-book of Benghazi; and, in fact, he seemed quite determined that it should not be in my power to quote him as giving any information dangerous to the State.
I looked into the principal mosque in passing; like all the other buildings it is of mud and small stones, with many low columns and arches of the same material; the roof being formed of small conical cupolas like sugar loaves, some of which are four feet in diameter, and eight or ten in height. This is the consecrated style of building for the mosques, of which there are fourteen. From the best information I could obtain, it seemed that the number of inhabited houses was under 500. The Kehia, an Arab of Benghazi, only comes here once a year, and then to collect the tribute; his visit ended, the Wagily, as the inhabitants of Augila are called, are left to follow their own devices. The Sheikh has a traditionary, but no legal authority; if crimes occur, his duty is to report them to the Bey of Benghazi, and wait for orders before sending the offenders with the witnesses to the Bey for judgment. Of course, with such a system, the only check upon crime and violence is in the natural disposition of the people, or in the fear of blood feuds; recourse is, indeed, rarely or never had to the distant and doubtful justice thus to be sought in Benghazi.
The inhabitants of these oases indulge greatly in a slightly-intoxicating drink, derived from the palm tree. Sheikh Othman, who himself professes not to indulge in this forbidden luxury, was so obliging as to take me to one of his gardens to see the method by which it is obtained. The tree is stripped of its branches, and the crown cut off, so as to lay bare the heart; a small drain is then cut in the edge, to which the mouth of a jar is applied, and for months the tree yields its daily tribute of lagby. From time to time the crust is cut from the wound to facilitate the flow of the juice; for this purpose an instrument is used, in shape like a horse fleam, tied at right angles to a handle of wood. After three or four months, the wound is generally closed; the tree does not yield fruit for some years after this exhausting process, and will die if the wound be left too long open. It seemed to me, however, that the tree never recovers its stately appearance, but ever in after life has a debauched, drunken look about its branches, indicative of its former intemperate habits. The drink itself is of a milky white colour; on the first day it is drawn, it is sweet, like the milk of the cocoa-nut; on the second, acid and slightly vinous; and, on the third, it is already vinegar. Though drinkable in large draughts in the second stage, when it has only a slightly acid taste, it is still a poor substitute for the smallest small beer. The Wagily are rich in about 16,000 date trees, and their gardens produce gourds, melons, tomatos, and onions, with a small quantity of kesab and barley.
I next day continued my journey to Jalo, where I hoped to make arrangements for my further progress. On the same day that I left Benghazi, a Turk, dependant on the Kaimahan, set off for Jalo, to take the census of the date trees, on which the taxes are levied; the result of the last one having been unsatisfactory to a large party of the inhabitants. He was accompanied by Yunes, one of the sheikhs, who had given me every promise of assistance, though not disguising the difficulty I should probably find in pursuing my original plan, which was to go to the Koffra, and thence eastwards towards the Nile. Such a route was quite new to the Majabra, and no one would venture to join me in exploring it; I could not even find any one willing to accompany me to Gebabo, كبابو. The Zowayah had already returned; after whom parties of Tibbus often visit these oases to glean the fruit which remains on the date trees.
Jalo, 28 miles, or eight hours E.S.E. from Augila, is by far the most important in this group of oases; the name, now restricted to the first, was probably in ancient times applied to the whole group. The oases, according to the earliest accounts we have of them, contained no fixed inhabitants; the Libyan nomads paid them a summer visit to gather dates, in the same way that the Zowayah now go to the Koffra. In the time of the Roman domination of Africa, they contained a small settlement, which, probably, had been formed to meet the necessities of the caravans. Jalo is approached by a hollow, bordered on each side by rows of tamarisks, which gradually opens into a plain, bounded by low sand hills. On two of them, facing each other, Leb لب and El’Erg العرق, two villages of much humbler pretensions than Augila, are built. Each contains a few mud houses, but the dwellings are mostly huts (zeribah), constructed of palm branches, generally of a conical form, eight or nine feet in diameter, and rarely more than seven high at the apex. The mosques are mere square mud structures, without any attempt at ornament; and, instead of walls and gate-towers, a simple palisading of palm branches surrounds each village. Jalo is, however, more populous than Augila, and a far greater degree, not of comfort—this is unknown in such places—but of bien être, is found here. This arises not only from the great extent of its palm groves, but principally from the occupation of its inhabitants, who are all merchants. They are of different origin from the Wagily, some speaking Arabic, whilst others, both in appearance and language, preserve the Berber type. El’Erg contains 4000 inhabitants, allowing five to a family, which is rather above than below the average; it contains seven mosques, distinguished only by little white flags, and is governed by twelve sheikhs. Leb, which is but half this size, rejoices in only three sheikhs and as many mosques.