After leaving Boghari and the plain by the Oued Chelif, the route goes among low, rounded hills for a distance of about 24 kilometers, when it strikes boldly across the wide-extending plain. The general appearance of the vegetation, away from the intensely salty chotts, is that of low-growing shrubs on the plain, and of somewhat higher shrubs or low trees along oueds. Of the former, perhaps the most abundant are Noæa spinosissima and Haloxylon sp., and by the oueds Tamarix sp. and Zizyphus sp. Near Ain Oussera is a wide belt of Stipa tenacissima, the alfa grass, which occurs nearly to the exclusion of other species, and a second belt of alfa, several kilometers in width where crossed, was seen very soon after leaving Guelt-es-Stel. At each of these places were seen large piles of the grass baled ready for hauling to Algiers.
The alfa, or bunch-grass, covers large areas in Algeria as also in Spain. In November the long leaves of the grass are dry, tightly rolled, and rush-formed, in place of being flat as during the rainy season or period of growth. The species reproduces largely by means of much-branched rhizomes, from which spring the young, fleshy leaves, enlarged at the base. In Algeria, “situées en territoire civil,” there are 543,620 acres of alfa, mostly on the High Plateau, but a part along the littoral in the province of Oran, west of Algiers. The leading environmental influence upon the peculiar distribution of the species is apparently that of rainfall, reacting in this respect very like plants with storage organs, avoiding alike regions where the rainfall is excessively heavy or where it is so little as to cause marked desertic conditions. It is apparently confined to sandy soils and is replaced by others wherever the soil of a region (otherwise appropriate for its growth) is of clay or is charged with any considerable amounts of salts. It is an important article of export from Algeria. Its total tonnage is said to amount to 80,000 each year, bringing approximately $1,500,000. It is sent to England, Belgium, and France, and used in the manufacture of fine grades of paper, light, strong, and of a silky texture; also in making baskets, hats, and mats, for which a superior grade of the grass, commanding especially high prices, is employed (Kearney and Means, loc. cit.).
Among other species commonly seen in crossing the steppes are various salt-bushes, such as Haloxylon articulatum and Anabasis articulata and especially Artemisia herba-alba, with Tamarix and a few specimens of Pistacia along the oueds or where water conditions are most favorable. Between the belt of alfa last mentioned and El Masserane, a bordj, there is a broad plain surrounded by low mountains, which are really the northern extension of the broad Saharan Atlas, where salt-bushes occur in a formation several kilometers, possibly 24, across. Here in the summer the nomads, coming up out of the desert, find grazing for their flocks, and even in October we saw countless numbers of sheep and goats, and hundreds of camels, browsing the shrubs.
At El Masserane are specimens of large Tamarix, really the size of small trees, growing near the bordj; and to the south of the bordj we passed the first dunes encountered on the plateau. These are part of a series of dunes which were seen to extend to the horizon to the northeast, as we approached El Masserane, and which, we were informed, reached as far as Bou Saada, nearly 90 kilometers distant. The dune flora was quite different from that of the surrounding plain, owing to the total absence of salt plants, and to the presence, among other species, of a Tamarix and a large grass, the “drinn” (Aristida pungens), which was subsequently frequently seen.
Soon after passing the dunes the way lay through a country with low mountains, almost bare of vegetation, where scattering oaks and junipers constitute the only species of plants, until we reached the walled town of Djelfa.
DJELFA TO LAGHOUAT.
The bleakness and the bareness of the environs of Djelfa come with a surprise when one considers that the rainfall of the place is not inconsiderable, about 375 mm., and that the altitude is about 1,110 meters, which insures a fairly low temperature and hence a relatively low evaporation rate. The sparseness of the vegetation is probably partly due to the fact that the rainfall does not occur at one or at two seasons, as nearer the coast, but is distributed fairly evenly between the four seasons, and also to the long occupancy by the Arabs and the French, by which possibly most of the useful native plants, large and small, have long since been destroyed. Somewhat removed from the town, particularly on the mountains to the west, is a forest of pines. Along the streets are many shade trees, as Lombardy poplar, ash, locust, and others, and within the town limits is a small but fine public park and experimental garden with a large variety of shrubs and trees.
From Djelfa to Laghouat the road runs through barren mountain passes, and is dreary and of little interest. Tristram’s description of the approach to Laghouat, written about 1860, gives very well the present condition of things:
The next day’s journey was through a rocky desert country. . . . We afterwards passed a low-lying strip of sand-hills on the west, with the marks of an ancient ocean beach; on the east a high range of mountains, with the stratification regular and horizontal. . . . Our next day’s ride was by a base of a continuous chain of steep ridges, again with an even water-line very near the crest, and presenting a singular serrated appearance (the Djebel Lazareg). I counted no less than 127 little peaks rising above this straight horizontal line, almost all of them of equal height, like the crests of a long sea-reef; and lower down the sides were many tidal strings, if I may so term them. Turning around to our left and crossing the dry channel of an evaporated and aged “Wed,” we had some low headlands close behind us—Ras Ainyah of the Arabs, “Prise d’eau” of the French—the scene of a bloody combat under General Yusuf. Through an opening between the mountains we debouched on a wide plain, and suddenly before us stood an isolated rock. Two cliffs facing each other bore each a bastioned tower, and in a depression between these lay a town.
The town, whose situation is thus so graphically presented, is Laghouat, of which the leading present interest lies in the fact that it is on the very edge of the Sahara proper. From the rocky hills by the town one can see the serrated Saharan Atlas to the north, extending northeast and southwest, and, turning, to the south, an expansive and gently undulating bare plain, stretching without a break to the horizon.