With regard to the conduct of the poor Arab soldiers, justice requires it to be said, that they are allowed nothing for the service of the escort, whilst if they do not serve when they are called upon, they are fined. The consequence is, they generally have nothing to eat, and no skins to put their water in. Perhaps a camel with a couple of skins is allowed to twenty men. As there was water for scarcely two days of our slow marching, (we only march about twelve hours per day,) these miserable victims of Turkish rule had no water left. It is hunger and misery in this, as in most cases amongst the poor, and not the native unwillingness of the heart to perform good actions, which excite them to deeds of violence and plunder. This night the heavens presented an appearance of unexampled serenity and soft splendour; all the constellations glowed with a steady beauteous light; there were the "sweet influences of Pleiades," the bright "bands of Orion," "Arcturus with his sons," and the infinitude of sparkling jewels in "chambers of the South." All the stars might be seen and counted, so distinctly visible were they to the naked unassisted eye. In encamping our ghafalah carried on its delightful system of confusion, and the night fires of the various groups glared wildly in every direction. I had not yet become familiar with these nocturnal lights of Saharan travelling, and my senses were confounded. I felt tormented as with an enchanter's delusive fire-works in some half-waking dream.

6th.—Rose at day-break. Our route was now over a vast level plain, and we were within four hours of The Mountains. They now discovered the true Atlas features, a part of which chain they were. We marched in the most glorious disorder. Some were before, some behind, straggling along, others far to the right, and others as far to the left, a mile or two apart. We had the appearance of an immense line moving on to invest The Mountains en masse, for there seemed to be no common point to which we were advancing in such tumultuous array. The Arabs pay little attention to marching in order, and in a straight line, so that the camels traverse double the quantity of ground that there would be any occasion for did they attend to plain common sense. The Desert now showed more signs of cultivation, and, indeed, a great portion of this so-called Desert is only land uncultivated, but capable of the highest degree of cultivation;—all which might be effected by supplying any scarcity of rain by irrigation.

We passed the kailah, or in Scripture phrase, "the heat of the day," at a place called Aâeeat, below The Mountains, where we found two wells without water, or with very little bad, dirty, nay, black water. Nevertheless, many descended these wells, about thirty feet deep, to bring up the muddy filthy water, and swallowed it immediately. I myself was so thirsty, that I drank it greedily. Said had very severe thirst, and I believe he drank in one of the last two days nearly a bucket and a half of water. I finished two bottles of brandy, having diluted it with large quantities of water. I believe this was the only thing which kept me alive, the heat was so intense and prostrating in the day-time. I am astonished to see these people descend into the wells with such facility. I expected, on the contrary, to see them break their necks. They descend by the sides, only assisted by their hands and feet, clinging to naked stones, the interstices of which in some places not even allowing space on which to rest the foot. Here again is hubbub and vociferation of the wildest form, all sorts of quarrelling over this sewer-like water. I now, for the first time in my life, experienced the real value of water, and in these climates more clearly understood the vivid and frequent allusions in the Holy Scriptures to this essential element of existence. Mohammed went several miles in The Mountains, and returned with a skin of fresh water. In his absence the torment of thirst prostrated me, and I lay senseless on the ground:

"The water! the water! My heart yet burns to think, How cool thy fountain sparkled forth, For parched lips to drink."

After the Kailah, we ascended that portion of the Tripoline chain of the Atlas called Yefran. This chain has various names, according to its different links, or groups, more properly, for the usual phenomena of the Atlas are groups, pile upon pile. The following are some of the principal names of this part of the Atlas, beginning east and proceeding west: Gharian, Kiklah, Yefran or Jibel, ("Mountain," par excellence,) Nouwaheeha, Khalaeefah, Reeaneen, Zantan, Rujban, Douweerat. All these larger districts are divided into smaller ones, descending to very minute subdivisions. Every dell, and copse, and glade, and brook, and stream, and drain, (to use English nomenclature,) of these mountains, is defined, and owned, and cultivated, as the most cultivated, divided, and subdivided estate in England. It is quite ridiculous to look upon the Atlas chains as so many vast uninhabited wastes. The French, whose forte in colonization is blundering, rushed into the plateaus and groups of the Atlas as into lands unowned and undefined, and were quite astonished to hear of claimants for their newly acquired lands and farms. They imagined that the plains of the Metidjah and the adjacent Atlas chain had lain desolate since the Creation, or were only wandered over by savage hordes of barbarians.

We found the ascent of Yefran difficult. The Arabs call all places difficult of traverse, Wâr——whether applied to stony rocky ground, sandy regions, or mountains. The camels in the ascent are timid, and besides the evident fatigue which they experience, show great caution, picking slowly their way with the greatest circumspection. Only a portion of the ghafalah got up to-day. Some camels were labouring up the mountain sides, others threw off their burdens and stood still. As our party was always the advanced, we managed to get up soon. Beneath a huge old black olive-tree, which seemed to have begun with Creation, but still as vigorous as ever, we found a comfortable shade in a snug retired place. It was cooler on the top of The Mountains, and I took a walk in the evening to the Castle (Kesar) of Yefran, a most formidable thing to look at from a distance, but a wretched mud-built place in reality. To the Arabs, however, it is a terrible bulwark of strength, and for them impregnable. Everything in the shape of a fort or a blockhouse, be it ever so untenable or miserable, terrifies the Arabs. It is repeatedly asserted that the Arabs of Algeria never took a blockhouse. An authentic anecdote was recently related to me of a French civilian keeping a whole tribe in check for two days, by fortifying his house and firing from loop-holes which he made in its walls. Not so the Kabyles. Their genius is defending their little forts, often constructed of loose stones, in their mountain homes. Behind these and other forts of nature they maintain for days an obstinate resistance, and pour deadly mitraille. The Turkish soldiers were here lounging about; they gaped and stared at me. I am, perhaps, the first European who has been to Yefran in the memory of the present generation, nay, the first European Christian who has visited this spot. The sun now set fiery red, and night was fast veiling The Mountains with her sable curtain. I retired to my olive-tree, and under its shade slept most profoundly. This was repose—this, sleep! I shall never sleep in more profound slumbers until I sleep my last.

FOOTNOTES:

[11] Ghafalah, , is the ordinary term for a caravan in North Africa.



CHAPTER III.

FROM THE MOUNTAINS TO GHADAMES.

Interview with the Commandant of The Mountains.—Military Position occupied by the Turks.—Subjugation of the Arabs.—My different Appellations.—Departure for, and arrival at, Rujban, native place of my Camel-driver.—Aspect of The Mountains.—Miserable condition of the Inhabitants.—Cruelty of the Tribute Collectors.—Marabouts exempt.—Curiosity of the Women to see The Christian.—Social Habits of the People.—Politics in The Mountains.—Visit from The Sheikh.—Various Conversations and Visitors.—Heat of the Weather.—The Sheikh offers to sell me his Authority.—Want of Rain.—Population.—The playing with the Head.—Pervading principle of Religion.—The Sheikh in a bad humour, and misery of Life in The Mountains.—Departure from The Mountains.—Description of the four days' journey from The Mountains to the Oasis of Senawan.—Dreadful sufferings from Heat and want of Sleep.—Provisions of the Caravan.—Stratagem to preserve Water.—Second Christening in The Desert.—Senawan and its group of Oases.—Resume our Journey.—Emjessem.—Met by a party of Friends from Ghadames.—Quarrel about Said.—First sight of Ghadames.

7th.—WAS awaked by a young man, who said he had brought for "the Consul of Ghadames" (myself) a brace of partridges, some milk, and grapes, from the secretary of the Commandant. Drank a large basin of milk and coffee, and went to pay a visit to the Commandant. Found all the principal Ghadamsee merchants at the Castle, closeted in a small apartment with the Commandant, Ahmed Effendi, talking over the affairs of the ghafalah. At first I imagined this officer had brought them up from Yefran to make them pay black-mail in various presents. But it was only his vanity which dragged up the poor camels this fatiguing route, an ascent of four hours. Our direct route to Ghadames would have been half a day farther west. He said he had merely sent for the merchants to ask them how they were, and give them his blessing. When I entered, a stool was brought me to sit upon. The Rais[12] was seated on a raised bench covered with an ottoman, and the merchants were squatted on their hams upon the matting and carpets of the floor. Coffee was brought me, as to most visitors. The Rais asked me where I was going? and what I was doing? as if he knew nothing about me. I then had my palaver, and represented to the Rais the case of taking by force water from the merchants, which took him quite aback, and astonished all present, the merchants secretly admiring the boldness of the remonstrance. But it was one of those unpleasant duties which are absolutely necessary to be performed. In our case it was necessary for our own health and the order and security of the caravan. The Rais surprised and displeased, nevertheless gave strict orders that it should not happen again. The merchants afterwards expressed their thanks to me; seeing plainly also the advantage of having one amongst them who was not immediately subject to the Pasha and his soldiers. Besides, I hinted to the Rais it would be better if the ghafalah marched more in order, and had a chief. This the Rais discussed with the merchants, and it was considered advisable to adopt these common sense measures, they, however, laughing heartily at my European ideas of order. I then begged the Rais to persuade the people to travel by night, as this was the hottest season in the year, and being a new traveller in The Desert, I could scarcely support the heat. He replied it would be better for all as we were not now likely to be molested with hostile Arabs. Before separating, a marabout made a short prayer (the fatah) for the safety of the caravan. This prayer, the first chapter of the Koran, is never omitted on these occasions. Ahmed Effendi is a very smart Turk, in the vigour of age and health, and has the character of being very stringent in his administration. People call him "kus," or hard and determined in disposition; but he is not ferocious, like the Commander-in-Chief. His countenance betrayed a very active intelligence. He said to me aside: "Now these people you are travelling with are barbarians; you must humour their whims and respect their religion. If they were not now present, we would have a bottle of wine together."

The garrison of Yefran contains some two or three hundred Turkish soldiers, as also that of Gharian, besides Arab troops. The Arabs of these districts are entirely subdued, their native courage apparently dried up and extinct. This has been done chiefly by forced emigration or extermination. The French acquired their razzia system from the Turks whom they found in possession of the government of Algiers, on the conquest of that country; but they have improved on it, for a superior intelligence imitating a bad system, will always increase its cruelty and wickedness. We passed many villages depopulated, their humble dwellings razed to the ground—the work of the ferocious Ahmed Bashaw, who came in person to these mountains. A great deal of fighting had taken place near the Castle, and there were the ruins of a very large village on one of the neighbouring peaks. Yefran is a very strong position, and was hotly contested by both parties. In all these mountain districts very few inhabitants are seen, and the present cultivation is therefore insignificant. The people are without money or stock, and have scarcely anything to eat. The single advantage of Turkish rule here is, a large military road cut from the plain to the summit, on which the fort stands, but, of course, as a military road, it was not made specifically for the improvement of the people. Certainly the Turks must show more civilized and polite manners to the mountaineers, but the Arabs will not imitate them, or, if anything they do imitate, as in the case of all subjected nations in relation to their conquerors, it is the vices of their masters. It is unfortunately much the same when the Turks imitate us Christians.

Bought some meat cheap at Yefran, but my camel-driver afterwards stole the greater part. The secretary of the Rais, Bou Asher, who knew the Vice-consul of Fezzan, showed me some kindness, and sent me again milk, which he said was the right of "The Consul." I had also received a nice delicious little present of a melon from the Sheikh Makouran en route. These were the first proofs of a friendly disposition of the natives towards me, and were most thankfully appreciated. The people called me Taleb ("learned man"), or Tabeeb ("doctor"), or Consul, or the Christian, just as their caprice or information led them[13]. Here all the merchants determined to stop a week, some going to one part of The Mountains, and some to the other, to purchase oil, barley and gurbahs ("water-skins"). Many travellers, who had availed themselves of our escort to The Mountains, here left us.

I left in the afternoon for the native country of my camel-driver, and encamped for the night in The Mountains. Our party consisted only of the camel-driver, Said, and myself, with three camels. I must say I felt rather queer knocking about in The Mountains, almost alone.

8th.—Rose early, and pursued our way. The air of this elevated region invigorated my mind and body; and so by a mishap I took no coffee before starting. Passed the kailah under a group of olive trees, called "The Sisters[14]," where also flocks of sheep and shepherds were dosing and reposing under the shade. We exchanged biscuits for milk. The shepherds were giving their dogs to drink, and made me wait until they had drunk their fill, thinking no doubt that their dogs were as good as "a Christian dog," (the ordinary epithet of abuse applied by Mussulmans to Christians). I had my revenge, for when I had drank my milk, I took good care to give them only a fair and exact return of biscuits, which made them ask for more, but which I refused. Started again, and did not arrive at Mohammed's village, in the district of Rujban, till after midnight. It was a most wearisome ride. I kept asking Mohammed, "how far the village was off?" He would say, "Now three hours;" in two hours after, it was still "three hours;" in two hours after that, it was still "two hours and a half;" it was "near" when it was six hours before we arrived; it was "close by us," three hours before we arrived, &c. &c. But an Arab will often tell you a place is just under your nose when it is at a day's journey distant, pointing to it as if he saw it within a musket-shot. I was highly exasperated at Mohammed, because we had delayed to eat anything all day long, upon his representing to me that we should arrive an hour after sunset. But the milk acted like a purgative, and was perhaps advantageous. No people were seen in The Mountains, and very little cultivation. There were a few modern antiquities, chiefly the stones of Moorish forts and castles. Many villages in ruins, destroyed in the late wars. And Mohammed, like a thoughtless idiot, ridiculed the rude desolations of his brethren, exulting and calling out to me to see "the cooking places." Many parts had the geological features of the Sahel, or hilly country in the neighbourhood of the city of Algiers. The air was pure and cool. But though it was calm this day and the evening, a sudden tempest got up after midnight. I was lying on the bare ground rolled in a blanket, when the wind tore it from off me, and I was obliged to retreat to a hovel. I am told these tempests are frequent in The Mountains, no doubt arising from the intense heat rarefying the air.

9th.—Slept the greater part of this day to recover from the fatigue of the preceding days. Do not suffer much, and am surprised I do not suffer more. Asked Mohammed for the quarter of sheep purchased at Yefran, and taxed him with stealing it: told him I would give him no backsheesh on arriving at Ghadames. He had stolen the meat to make a feast for his friends on his arrival, and afterwards brought me a piece of my own meat cooked as his own, but which I refused. This is a fine illustration of being generous at another person's expense. In the evening went to see Rujban. There are seven villages forming the district of Rujban. These consist of so many mud and stone buildings, but some of the houses are excavations out of the solid rock, the principal object being protection from the fiery summer heat, and the intense winter cold. Many of the houses have a yard before them, which is walled round, and three or four are mostly clustered together. Sometimes excavations are made in a pit or hollow found on high ground, and then a subterraneous passage leading to them is excavated from the mountain sides: these are reckoned very secure. From the heights where I write, there is a boundless view of the plain and undulating ground which lie between the Mediterranean and this Atlas chain. The Arabs call it their sea, and it certainly looks like a sea from these heights. A marabout sanctuary and garden at the base of the mountains, is called their port. There is frequently a freshness rising from the subjected plain like that of the sea. The camels, they say, are their ships. There are besides some pretty views in and over the Atlas valleys, where you overlook the small scattered oasisian spots of cultivation, with here and there a palm and little groups of inclosed fig-trees. Then again, there are heights crowned with olive-woods, as if The Mountains had put on a black scull-cap. Some of the precipices are so profound, as to deserve the epithet of "horrid." In different parts of these heights are flights of natural steps, by which they are ascended, and which seem to have received some finish from Arabian ingenuity.

In spite of the freshness and coolness of mountain air, it has been very hot these last two days. On the plains, the people say the heat is now overpowering.

There is scarcely any natural produce about. A few sheep and goats, a camel or two, and a few asses, are all the animals I have seen. The fig-trees produce something, but I have seen no prickly-pears, which support many poor families on The Coast, during several months every year. The olive plantations are the principal resource of these poor mountaineers, which are also a sensible relief for the eye on these bare heights. In the houses there is hardly anything to be got. No pepper, no onions, no meat killed or sold. No bread can be obtained for love or money. I laid in a stock of fresh bread in Tripoli for a fortnight, but my gluttonous camel driver devoured all in three or four days! There were no less than fifty twopenny loaves. He was accustomed to eat in the night, when I was asleep, and used to threaten to beat Said if he blabbed. I mentioned the circumstance after, to the Rais of Ghadames, who observed: "If you had brought a thousand loaves, all would have been devoured."

Notwithstanding this abject poverty, a bullying tax-gatherer, with half a dozen louting soldiers, have been up here prowling about, and wresting with violence the means of supporting life from these miserable beings. The scenes which I witness are heart-rending, beyond all I have heard of Irish misery and rent-distraining bullies. One man had his camel seized, the only support of his family; another his bullock; another a few bushels of barley: the houses were entered, searched, and ransacked; people were dragged by the throat through the villages, and beaten with sticks; and all because the poor wretches had no money to meet the demands of these voracious bailiffs. Poverty is, indeed, here a crime. One poor old woman had a few bad unripe figs seized, and came to me, and a group of wretched villagers, crying out bitterly. One or two men, who were imagined to have something, though they had nothing, were held by the throat until they were nearly suffocated. I cursed over and over again in my heart the Turks. I was not prepared for such scenes of cruelty in these remote mountains. We shall find, that amongst the so-called barbarians of The Desert there was nothing equal in atrocity to this. What wonder that the Arab prefers, if he can, to pasture his flocks on savage and remote wastes to being subjected to these regular Governments—of extortion! And yet we, in our ignorance of what is here going on, are surprised at their preference. If the people are not ready with their money, the little barley, their winter's store, is seized, and they must pay afterwards their usual quotas of money. Several bags of barley are illegally gotten in this way. The amount of tax or tribute for the whole district of Rujban is five or six hundred mahboubs, which is paid in three instalments, three times a year; but, which though nothing in amount, is more than all the people are worth together, for riches and poverty are relative possessions, if the latter can be possessed. If they can't pay in money they pay in kind. The Sheikh of the district, with the elders, determine how much each man and family shall pay. This, of course, gives rise to ten thousand disputes, heart-burnings, and eternal wranglings amongst themselves. The Arabs, on these occasions, however silent and sulky they may be on others, show that they have the gift of speech, as well as Frenchmen and Italians. Then, indeed, God's thunder can't be heard. Marabouts do not pay these taxes. This is a privilege of religion, which successfully exerts itself against the oppressive arm of the civil power. Such privilege has been enjoyed in all ages and countries. My camel-driver is a Marabout, and is consequently exempt. I rallied him upon his privilege, and he replied: "The villains are afraid to come here; see my flag-staff and green flag, they dare not come over my threshold—God would strike them down!" It is impossible to tell how much of the five hundred mahboubs gets into the treasury of Government, but, I am told, a good portion gets into the pockets of the officials. The whole administration of The Mountains, and the Saharan oases of Tripoli, is conducted on the same principles of finance and extortion.

I am lodged in the house of my camel-driver. The women show the greatest curiosity to see me, and declare that I am more beautiful (bahea) than they. They wonderingly admire everything I have. The greater part of these women never left their mountain-homes—never saw a Christian or European before—and this is the reason of their surprise at my appearance. The children, of course, are equally astonished, but are too frightened to reflect steadily on an European. Both the women and men say it is maktoub, ("predestination") which has brought me amongst them, and they are right. These poor people are very civil to me. In my quality of tabeeb they consult me. The prevailing disease is sore eyes. Two children were brought to me, a girl with a dropsy of a year's standing, and a boy with only one testiculum, for neither of which did I prescribe. The employment of the men is camel-driving between Tripoli and Ghadames. Agriculture, there is scarcely any. The women weave barracans or holees for their husbands, themselves, and children, and for sale. They are mostly dirty, and ill-clothed. The men have but a single barracan to cover them, one or two may have a shirt; the children are nearly naked; and the women wear a woollen frock, charms round their necks, armlets, and anclets, sometimes throwing a slight barracan or sefsar round their heads and shoulders. I observed, however, that often women wear great leather boots, made of red leather or camel's skin. None of them were pretty, but some were fine-looking, with aquiline noses, and rolling about their large, black, gazelle-like eyes.

10th.—Spent the day in writing notes. Expect to remain three more days. I am, however, comfortably sheltered from the heat, which has been to-day excessive. Mohammed, my camel-driver, is useful to me as a writer of Arabic, giving me the names of places in Arabic. But he knows nothing of Arabic grammar, and writes very poorly, like most of these Marabouts, although he passes for being a very learned man. He purchased some old dirty leaves of an Arabic book, and exhibited them to the people as sacred works. The Sheikhs of Rujban and all the great people of the villages came to stare at them. They were shocked at my presumption in wishing to handle these sacred leaves, which were a portion of a commentary on the Koran. My Marabout is the Katab, or writer of the village, there being only another who can write here besides himself, and who writes very badly. Mohammed, though a saint and a writer, is an enormous hog, and dishonest, when he can be so with safety. He has begun badly, but may turn out better. Said is not of much use yet; he is very stupid, but not malicious. I must make the best of both, and of every body and everything in my present circumstances, conciliating always wherever I can, and passing by all offences. If I can't do this, I may go back. I cannot finish these trifling memoranda to-day, without expressing my thankfulness to a good Providence, that I enjoy good health and spirits up to this time, and there is every appearance of my arriving safely in Ghadames. "All is from God!" (Men ând Allah El-koul, as the people say.)

11th.—Yesterday evening conversed with the Arab villagers, and asked them if the soldiers of the Government were gone, i. e., the collectors of the tribute. They replied, "Yes, thank God, and may they never return! The curse of God upon them!" They then asked me, if the people were treated so by our Government. I observed to them, "Not always. But that sometimes the British Government sorely oppressed the people, as all the Governments of Europe; and I was often tempted to think that there were only two classes of people in the world, the oppressing and the oppressed, (i. e., the eaters and the eaten)." To which latter remark they all answered with a loud "Amen," and swore it was the truth. They then asked me, "If the English were coming to Tripoli?" I told them, "No," for the English had now more countries than they knew what to do with. Surprised at this remark, they continued, "What are the French vessels doing at Tripoli?" (There were then a French steamer and a brig at this time.) I told them to keep away the Turks from attacking Tunis. They were anxious to know if the French would come to Tripoli. I answered, I thought not, as they had enough of Algeria. "We hope (en shallah,)" said they, "the English are our friends." I replied they were, but, being friends of the Sultan of Constantinople, they would not take possession of Tripoli. The fact was, these poor people were just smarting under the oppressive acts of the Turkish tax-gatherers, and they would then have sold their country to the first comer for an old song, were the buyer Christian, Jew, or Pagan. But I have always found the Arabs fond of talking of politics; it seems instinctive in their character; and it is astonishing how much policy is always going on amongst their tribes, and how intricate are the various negotiations of the Sheikhs. I asked them "If they had any arms?" To which they replied, "No, none whatever; the Turks have taken them all away." And so these once formidable mountaineers have not only lost all spirit and courage, but have not even arms to defend themselves against the most petty annoyances. Robberies of the small kind are frequent about the neighbourhood, and the people are often obliged to gather their figs before they are ripe, lest they should be stolen. At other times they display great impatience of the seasons, and gather the fruit before ripe. Those who steal provisions are poor famished devils, having nothing to eat. There is no poor-law here. It is simply a question of theft or starvation to death. This is the alternative of Arab life in many parts of these mountains.

This morning received a visit from the Sheikh of Rujban, Bel Kasem by name[15], and his head-servant, or factotum. I made them the best coffee I could, putting into it plenty of sugar. The Arabs are curious people; they like things either very bitter or very sweet. Their eyes sparkled with satisfaction; they had never tasted coffee before like it, and were rejoiced—"Tripoli always belongs to the English!" Speaking of the Marabouts, and alluding to my Mohammed, the Sheikh said, "These fellows pray God and rob men." "Mohammed," he added, "is a rogue, he pays nothing, and I am obliged to eat up all the people to make up the amount for the Bashaw." It is curious to observe everywhere this eternal contest between the civil and spiritual power. To pacify him, I told him Christian priests were many of them as bad as Marabouts (and which is quite within the mark). The Sheikh and his men had very white teeth. I observe nearly all the Arab men and women, as well as the negroes, to have extremely white teeth. This has never been medically accounted for; I believe it arises from the simplicity of the food they eat. Some Tunisian Arabs have reported that large bodies of troops are being concentrated at the Isle of Jerbah, in expectation of the Turks. The trading Arabs are the gazettes of North Africa.

Said's feet are very sore, arising from Mohammed refusing to allow him to ride. I was obliged to tell him, at last, that, unless he permitted him to ride, Said should not help him to load the camels. This had some effect, and he allowed Said to ride an hour or two before reaching here. This Marabout is, indeed, a cruel, selfish fellow. He also pretends to be very jealous, and will not allow any person, much less a Christian, to see his wife. He won't allow me to present her a cup of coffee. But I found out the reason; the rascal wished to carry it himself, and drink half of it on the way. Afterwards his wife told me herself the reason. An indiscreet conjugal disclosure this: but such is the character of the man.

An old blind man is calling on me. He tells me his country is my country, and his people my brothers and sisters. He prays God to bless me and preserve me. How soft and gentle—how full of good-will and patience—are the manners of the blind in all countries! Full fed flesh and the prosperous are proud and cruel, those stricken with infirmity and misery show the milk of human kindness. This poor old gentleman prays all the day long. Prayer is his daily bread. The Arabs ask me if Said is my slave. I tell them the English have no slaves, and that it is against their religion, but that some other Christian nations have slaves. They are greatly astonished that slavery is not permitted amongst us. The women of the village continue to visit me as an object of curiosity. They never saw a Christian before. They are always declaring me "bahea," handsome, of which compliment I am, indeed, very sensible.

This evening, however, the women of our two or three huts, and their neighbours, played me an indecent trick, with, of course, a mercenary object. Although the Barbary dance is rare amongst the Arab women, they can have recourse to it at times to suit their objects. The men were gone to bring the camels, and the women sent Said after them on some frivolous message. Four of the women now came into my apartment, and taking hold of hands, formed a circle round me. They then began dancing, or rather making certain indecent motions of the body, known to travellers in North Africa. At once nearly smothered and overpowered, I could scarcely get out of the circle, and pushed them back with great difficulty. At this they were astonished, and wondered all men, Christians and Mussulmans, did not like such delicate condescension on their part. "Don't you like it, infidel?" they cried, and retreated from my room. I now saw their object. They began begging for money vehemently, saying, "Pay, pay, every body pays for this." Nothing they got from me; and the wife of the Marabout came afterwards, imploring me to say nothing to her husband. It is thus these rude women will act for money, as many who are better taught, in the streets of London. But acts of indelicacy are nevertheless very rare amongst the mountain tribes. I have seen Arab women at other occasions, on a cold day, standing athwart a smoking fire, with all the smoke ascending under their clothes. This may be expected, and is characteristic of the filthy habits of these wretched mountaineers. But cases of adultery are unknown amongst these simple people.

12th.—A beautiful Arab girl, a perfect mountain gazelle, came with her mother to consult me about her eyes, being near-sighted. Recommended her to apply to Dr. Dickson, if she ever went to Tripoli; and wrote her a note to him. Many other people came for medicines. Went to see an old man whose eyes were bad with ophthalmia. I gave him some solution to wash his eyes, and he gave me in turn a jar of new milk. Something was said about olive-oil, and I asked where we could get some. They said there was none in Rujban. The lady of my host thinking me incredulous, pulled her gray grisly hair, and exhibited its crispness and dryness, observing, "See, where's the oil?" Of course such an argument was conclusive that they had no oil in the house.

The villagers, in this season, do absolutely nothing, unless it be sleep all day long. The fact is, it is awfully hot, from early morn to evening late, and they have little to do. All that they have to do, many of them do with apparent dispatch. At the dawn of day the wind is so strong, one cannot enjoy an hour of the morning's freshness; and, in the evening, the sultry ghiblee is equally disagreeable. I scarcely go out of my room the whole day. Begin to recover my Arabic. Many times I have begun and re-begun this difficult language. But there is no remedy. I must work, and work brings some pleasure, at least destroys ennui and kills time. However little time we have, we wish it less.

The Arabs ask me, "Why the Christian priests have no wives?" The Mohammedans and Catholics go to extremes in their ideas of separating or connecting women with religion and sanctity. The Mohammedans think a saint or marabout cannot have too many women or wives, which, they say, assist their devotion—a sentiment which they pretend to have received from Mahomet himself by tradition. The fact is, the prophet was very fond of women. The Catholics would seem to think a priest better with absolutely no wife. This is a mere struggle between sensuality and asceticism. There is no love or affection in it. I showed Mohammed an empty bottle. He took a piece of paper and wrote: "The bottle is empty of wine, God fill it again." Such is Arab marabout literature.

13th.—Elhamdullah! The wind has changed, the furnace breath of the ghiblee is gone out! We have now a pleasant breeze from N.W., the bahree, as the Arabs call it. We can now go out any time; before we were prisoners the live-long day. Mohammed, who pretends to all sciences, says: "There are three modes of cure—"1st, Blood-letting; "2nd, Fire and burning; "3rd, The word of God."

He made this observation in applying verses of the Koran to the eyes of his wife's sister, which he said were more efficacious than all my physic. Some of these bits of paper, with the name of God written on them, were steeped in water and swallowed by the patient. This superstition of swallowing bits of paper, with the name of God and verses of the Koran written on them, as well as the water in which the paper is steeped, is prevalent as an infallible remedy in all Mahometan Africa. Marabouts are all powerful in The Mountains; and a woman, pointing to her child, said to me:—"That boy is the child of a Marabout. I never allow another man to sleep with me." Nevertheless, the women still display intense curiosity in seeing "The Christian," and will declare, "By G—d, you are beautiful, more handsome than our men." They admire the most trifling thing I have, and add, "God alone brought you amongst us." Their language, though indelicate to us, is not so to them. It is the undisguised speech of a rude people.

Went this morning to see El-Beer, or "the well," the real fountain of life in these countries. Was much pleased with the visit; and found it at the bottom of a deep ravine, bubbling out from beneath the shade of palms and olives, amidst wild scenery of rugged steeps and hanging rocks. There are indeed, four springs, but all apparently from the same source. They are not deep, and have near them troughs for watering sheep, goats, cattle, and camels. These wells furnish water for two mountain districts. The water is of the purest quality, clear as crystal, aye, clear as—

"Siloa's brook that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God."

The road to them is very difficult, over rattling, rumbling stones, and rocks, and precipices, and it is hard work for the poor women who fetch the water, for the wells are distant nearly three miles from our village.

The Sheikh came to my Mohammed, asking him to write to Tripoli, to collect the money due to the Bashaw from certain people of this country, who are now working in that city. They look sharp after these poor wretches. Amuse myself with washing my handkerchiefs and towels, and mending my clothes. I also always cook and do as much for myself as I possibly can. Besides doing things as I like, it amuses me. Bought another skin-bag for water, and shall now distribute the three amongst us, and each shall drink his own water during the four days of our route, where no water is to be found. This will prevent wrangling on the way, and make each person more careful of this grand element of life in The Desert. Mohammed put a little oil in the skin before filling it, to prevent it from cracking. This gives the water an oily taste for weeks afterwards, but we get used to it, and are glad of water with any taste.

His Excellency the Sheikh got very facetious to-day. He offered to sell me his authority, his Sheikhdom, and retire from affairs. I bid one thousand dollars for the concern. "No, no," said he, "I'll take ten thousand dollars, nothing less." Then, getting very familiar, he added, "Now, you and I are equal, you're Consul and I'm Sheikh—you're the son of your Sultan, and I'm a commander under the Sultan of Stamboul." The report of my being a Consul of a remote oasis of The Sahara was just as good to me on the present occasion as if I had Her Majesty's commission for the Consular Affairs of all North Africa. Who will say, then, there is nothing in a name? A tourist in Africa should always take advantage of these little rumours, provided they are innocent. But the traveller more frequently has to encounter rumours to his disadvantage. Many visitors, men, women, and children—some brought milk, others figs and soap. Soap is considered a luxury in all the interior cities, and people will beg soap though never use it, but keep it as a sort of treasure. Fig and olive trees abound in the mountains, but for want of rain have produced nothing this year. So of most other vegetables products. Goats only are in abundance, of animals. The ordinary food of the people is bazeen, a sort of boiled flour pudding, with a little high-seasoned herbal sauce, and sometimes a little oil or mutton fat poured on. It is generally made of barley-meal, but sometimes flour. This is the supper and principal meal of the day. As a breakfast, a little milk is drank, or a few dates with a bit of bread is eaten. The rule of these mountaineers is, indeed, not to eat meat, though some of them have flocks of sheep.

14th.—His Excellency the Sheikh roused me from my bed this morning. He said he could not sleep, and therefore I ought not to sleep. According to his Excellency, Rujban contains 500 souls, all in misery and starvation. "The country is batel (good for nothing)," he says. It is certain the greater part of the people have not enough to eat, or half the quantity of what is considered ordinarily sufficient. In the neighbouring districts, S.W., there are 1,500 souls. Ahmed Bashaw destroyed the greater part of the inhabitants of these mountains, and disarmed the rest, leaving not a single matchlock amongst them. Such are the Turkish ideas of mountain rule—absolute submission or extermination!

This morning is cool and temperate. Every day continue to administer solution for ophthalmia, and even those whose eyes are quite well, will have a drop of it put on their eyes. They say it will prevent them, after I am gone, from having the malady. Everybody begs a bit of sugar, a little bread, a scrap of paper, a something from the Christian. Content all as well as I can.

This evening saw, for the first time "the playing with the head," which is performed by females. This was done by a young girl. After baring her head and unbinding her hair, throwing her long dark tresses in dishevelled confusion, she knelt down and began moving her chest and head in various attitudes, her whole soul being apparently in the motion. Part of her hair she held fast in her teeth, as if modestly to cover her face, the rest flew wildly about with the agitation of her head and chest, and all to the tune or time of two pieces of stick, one beating on the other, by the woman upon whose knees she leaned with her hands. The motion was really graceful, though wild and dervish-like, but there was nothing lascivious in it, like the dancing of the Moors, nor could it well be, the upper part of the body only was in agitation, being literally "the playing with the head." I never saw this before or again in North Africa. I gave the young lady twenty paras, the first time she had so large a sum in her life. Received a present of leghma from the Sheikh, very acrid and intoxicating. The women admire much my straw hat, made of fine Leghorn plat, and wonder how it is done. None of the inhabitants but our Marabout read and write. Portions of the Koran, however, are committed to memory; and one day an old blind man repeated several chapters of the Koran for my especial edification. He did it as a protest of zeal against my infidelity before the people, but I took care not to show that I was aware of the object. The men pray now and then, the women never, that I could see, and never think of religion beyond ascribing all things, good and bad, to God. Indeed, all classes in these mountains think the sum of religion consists simply in ascribing all matters, how great or how small, how evil how good soever, to the Divine Being. When they have done this, they think they have performed an act of piety and mercy. At my request, Mohammed made Said a pair of camel-driver's shoes, or sandals, to save his best. The plan is primitive enough. They get a piece of dried camel's hide, and cut it into the shape of the sole of the foot. Then they cut two thongs from the same hide. Holes are now bored through the soles, a knot is made at the end of the thongs, and they are pulled through the holes. The whole is then rubbed over with oil; the hairy side of the hide is fitted next to the foot, and the thongs are bound round the ancles. These sandals serve admirably well their purpose; some are made of double soles. But for the especial benefit of our cordwainers, I may mention, the African shoe has no heel to the sole.

15th.—His Excellency the Sheikh, and his factotum, or shadow, took coffee again with me this morning. A cup of coffee is a rare treat in Rujban. The Shadow of his Excellency brought me a few bad Fezzan dates, from which oases The Mountains are mostly supplied. Dates are not cultivated in The Mountains. The palm requires a low and flat sandy soil. The climate is not of so much consequence as the soil. Jerbah, and the Karkenahs, islands in the Mediterranean, produce as fine dates as the most favoured oasis of The Sahara. The Sheikh tells me there are thirty negro slaves in his district. One would wonder how the people could keep slaves when they can scarcely keep themselves. His Excellency is very sulky. He threatens to resign his Sheikhdom. The poor Sheikh is the dirtiest, unhappiest mortal of all his people. He is without wife, family or friend; he is without a rag to cover himself, except a filthy blanket. He houses in a little dirty cabin. In looks he is a hard strong-featured man, and large of limb. I asked his Excellency what he got by his Sheikhdom, to plague him. He growled, "Shayen (nothing)." "Why don't you resign?" I continued. "I can't; all my ancestors, from the time of Sidi Ibraim, and our lord Mahomet, were Sheikhs. We're one blood. I shall dishonour them:" he returned. The principle of aristocracy is irradicably bound up in the Arabian social economy. The levelling and co-operative system has no place here. The Sheikh's factotum is a noisy, roguish-looking Arab, with several bullet-marks about him received in the late wars. As he does all his master's dirty work, he is universally detested. Master and man swear the country is ruined. There certainly is nothing in these villages to render life tolerable. No rustic plays; no moon-lit dance to the sound of the rude calabash drum and squeaking pipe; no cheerful family circle—all is poverty and loneliness! Such a life is really not worth living. To make wretchedness still more wretched, for three years there has been no rain in these mountains. God's power and man's cruelty press sorely upon these miserable people.

The curiosity of the villagers begins to abate, or my Mohammed refuses them admission into his house to see me. He pretends to be honest in his opinion of his countrymen. He says: "The Arabs are all dogs (kelab)." They certainly have most begging propensities. And Mohammed adds, that when they have sufficient they will still beg, being born beggars. But, alas! these poor people, I am sure, never know now what it is to have enough. Yesterday some audacious thief stole the Sheikh's leghma. His factotum is foaming with rage, but the Sheikh laughed heartily at the impudence of the thief. His Excellency is accustomed to send me some every morning. I shall here relate a case or trait of selfishness amongst Arab women. I gave to the wife of the Marabout half a bottle of solution for washing her eyes should she be attacked with ophthalmia. Her sister-in-law, living next door, was laid up in a dark room with a dreadful ophthalmia. She sent her husband to beg a little of the solution. The Marabout's wife first denied that she had any, and then that she could find it. When I came from my walk, I scolded her soundly and gave the poor sufferer some solution.

The Marabout seeing my little stock of oil, burst forth with a violent panegyric on olive oil, as he dipped his fingers into it and licked them, not much to my satisfaction:—"Oil is my life! Without oil I droop, and am out of life; with oil, I raise my head and am a man, and my family (wife) feels I am a man. Oil is my rum—oil is better than meat." So continued Mohammed, tossing up his head and smacking his lips. I have no doubt there is great strength in olive oil. An Arab will live three months on barley-meal paste dipped in olive oil. Arabs will drink oil as we drink wine.

16th.—This morning we leave for Ghadames. What is remarkable, nearly all the Mountaineers offered me their services, and were willing to leave their native homes, and go with me any where or everywhere. I hardly observed a spark of fanaticism in them, so far as accompanying me was concerned. They were all actuated with the common and universal feeling, to obtain something to live withal in this poor world.

I have endeavoured to give some minutiæ of Arab mountain life. It will be seen to be not very stirring or agreeable, and there is certainly no romance in it, but, such as it is, I offer it to the reader, and he must make the best of the information. Life is life under any and all forms.

From Tripoli to The Mountains our route was southwest, so that we were not so far from the coast as at first might be imagined, from the number of days' journey, and we were still within the influence of some cool sea breezes, for any point almost between west and northeast, brought reviving life to The Mountains, in this terrible season of heat.

My journey seemed now to begin again, I felt a sickening regret, even in leaving my new Arab acquaintances. But the oppression which ground down to the dust these poor people filled my mind with the horror of despotic government. I was glad to get away from its victims, and from under the sphere of its influence, and plunge into the wild wastes of The Sahara, where I could breathe more freely. I must relate one other anecdote illustrating this oppression. A poor man sold me a peck of barley. The myrmidons of power, hearing of the sale, immediately went to him, and he refusing to give them the money, they got hold of his throat and nearly strangled him. To make them desist, I paid them also the value of the barley. Several of the poor people ran out after me when I mounted the camel, and amongst them many women and children, all crying out "Bes-slamah, bes-slamah," (Good-bye, good-bye). We now entered upon the most difficult, and the most critical part of our route in this season, and I commended myself and the people again to Eternal Providence.

20th.—Seenawan. I find it impossible to write daily in this part of the route.

I have seen lately in the newspapers and geographical journals, that a Frenchman is going to traverse Africa from west to east, and that he is to make hourly observations with scientific instruments. I think the parties who write such paragraphs must be either madmen, or grossly and unpardonably ignorant of the nature of African travelling. If a traveller is in his sober senses, half the time he is en route, he is a happy man. But to proceed.

Our first object was to find the rendezvous of the ghafalah. I said to Mohammed: "Are you sure the ghafalah is on the march to-day?" "The ghafalah is like the sun," he replied, "every body knows it will move to-day." About four hours after looking over the undulating ground, I thought I saw at about six miles distant some black spots moving, and turning to Mohammed, I said, "What's that?" He exclaimed, "The camels! the camels! I told you I was right, and don't you see I have struck into the right path?" I was glad to hear this, for I was not yet sufficiently broken in to desert travelling to be wandering about as we were in search of moving parties of the ghafalah. An hour after I took off the shade from my eyes, for I had still a slight ophthalmia, and looking round, I found we were in the midst of detached parties of the ghafalah, widely apart, but all hurrying in one direction. We were not near enough (indeed some miles off) to have any conversation with them. By noon we had all rendezvoused upon a pleasant plateau of The Mountains. The merchants welcomed my return, and asked me what I had been doing. I said, "We have delayed too long." They smiled:—"Oh, you don't understand; you see we have one day for buying oil, another day for barley, another for skins, another for doing nothing," &c. It appeared to me a bungling way of doing business. But some of them had been obliged to go a day's journey to purchase a few things. The ghafalah had, in fact, been scattered all over The Mountains. A few never left Yefran. This was my first taste of delay in Saharan travel.

We began our four days' journey in the evening, and continued all night up to two hours before sunrise. The camels then rested but were not unpacked. All the people now got a few winks of sleep. At dawn we started again, and halted for the day after two hours and a half of marching. In the afternoon, about half-past four, we then resumed our march, and in this manner we continued for the four days. Our pace was upon an average three miles per hour, sometimes two and a half, and sometimes three and a half. On looking at the camel you think it goes slow, but when you look at the driver, you observe that he is often kept up to a very good walking pace. Our camels were five days without drinking, for they drank the morning before we left.

I was once going to write, "the Arabs pack their camels as badly as possible; make their journeys as long as possible; travel as much in the sun as possible[16];" but these last four days have convinced me that, under the guidance of a good Arab chief, they know what they are about, and can do things with order and dispatch.

I don't know how it was, but it came into my head that, on leaving The Mountains, and proceeding south, we should soon descend again, as if we were to cross some mighty ridge or series of ridges of the Atlas. Every moment I expected to descend into valleys or plains, corresponding to the country which lies between Tripoli and The Mountains. Getting impatient, after nearly a day's march, I asked for the plains. The people turned upon me with surprise, and said:—"Lel Ghadames, koul hathe souwa, souwa, All like this to Gadmes." I found, indeed, that, after getting fairly into The Mountains, and proceeding south, you first entered upon a deep undulating country, with here and there a profound ravine, then a pretty verdant inclosed plateau, and then a bare towering height, all which accidented country dissolved at last into an immeasurable plain. Proceeding south, however, we found a new species of mountains began to raise their long, lone, dull, dreary naked forms; and, asking Mohammed what they were, he replied correctly enough:—"These are Gibel Sahara, (Saharan Mountains)." The plateaus and undulating ground were in places covered with loose stones, with sand and sand-hills scattered or heaped about. Then these stones and sand were partly covered at this season with sun-dried and sun-burnt herbage, mostly very coarse, with here and there a few bushes and shrubs. Many also were the dried beds of rivers, and there were still wider and profounder depressions of land than these waterless wadys. But all is now burnt, scorched, dried up, and the nakedness of the Saharan ridges is responded to with a hideous barrenness from the intervening plains and valleys. Not a single living creature was visible or moving; not a wild or tame animal, not a bird nor an insect, if we except a tiny lizard, which seems to live as a salamander in heat and flames, now and then crossing our path at the camel's foot, and a few flies, which follow the ghafalah, but have no home or habitation in The Dried-up Waste. Nor was there a sound, nor a voice, or a cry, or the faintest murmur in The Desert, save the heavy dull tramp of our caravan: all else was the silence of death! However, my Marabout tells me, in the winter the whole scene is changed. "There is then," he says, "herbage, rain, birds, gazelles, and all things." It is certain that within nine hours' ride from Rujban we passed the stubble of two or three patches of barley, which had been rescued from the dominion of The Desert.

As to myself, personally, in this part of the route, I have suffered most from want of sleep. In the day-time it was too hot to sleep, and in the night I was on the back of the camel, where, of course, for the present, I could not be expected to sleep, though many of the Arabs, nay, merchants slept. I should say all slept on the camel as soundly as in a bed. So that what I saved of suffering from the heat of day-travelling, I lost in want of sleep by night-travelling. Poor human brute! I thought of the fable of the ass and his winter and summer advantages and disadvantages. The hottest day was yesterday, last of the four, when we encamped in a dry bed of a river. I shall never forget that day, forget what I may else! I was first on the point of being suffocated, and seemed at my last gasp. I began to think that the predictions of my friends in Tripoli were about to be verified. I was to succumb to make them prophets! In addition to this my deep distress, I felt the wound of pride. I got some tea made, I can't tell how, and poured some brandy into it. This I drank, and from a fever of delirium found myself conscious again, and swimming in a bath of perspiration. The crisis was now passed, and I was to see Ghadames and Ghat, and return to my fatherland. So fate—rather Providence—would have it. Every day, until I reached Ghadames, there was a sort of point of halting between life and suffocation or death in my poor frame, when the European nature struggled boldly and successfully with the African sun, and all his accumulated force darting down fires and flames upon my devoted head. After this point or crisis was past, I always found myself much better. It is strange that my head never ached, nor was in any way affected during the whole route, except in the one day mentioned. Some and all have vainly invoked sleep upon a bed, in the time of darkness and cold, but those who call for the god in the African Desert, in midday of the hottest season of the year—and to the last moment of starting with a long, long night of travel before them—as they lay rolling on the burning sand, and he disdains to shed his dull influence over the eyelid, know, indeed, something of this kind of human suffering, and how dreadfully long and dreary were those nights! What signified the sight of the ten thousand orbs moving in silent mystic dance, and dressed out in soft bright fires, over the poor traveller's head! Alas! it was a mockery of his woes. . . . Four days and four nights were thus passed, without four hours of sleep. I often wonder if I could go through this again. I had an additional suffering of the eyes. I never took the veil from my face from sunrise to sunset, for had I done so, I should have had the hot sand immediately into them. We had ghiblee or simoon every day. But, thanks to Heaven, now ends the greatest of my sufferings from heat.

We were escorted by sixty Arab troops on foot, like those who escorted us from Tripoli to The Mountains. The Pasha mostly chooses them from districts through which we pass, and in this way secures a guard well acquainted with the route. But how odd, before the Turks, in the good old days of The Bashaws, these very Arabs were the banditti of the route. A Ghadames merchant said to me one day, "Yâkob[17], see these fellows; formerly all were villanous Sbandout (banditti)." The captain of this escort, Sheikh Omer, who will conduct us to Ghadames, was charged by the Commandant of The Mountains, that his men should not be allowed to take water, or anything else by force, "bel kouwee," as the merchants said. The Sheikh was a civil fellow, and found it his interest to cultivate my acquaintance. Every morning I invited him to take coffee and tea in my tent, and he never forgot to come. In acknowledgment, he sent me some liquid butter, which was not excessively bad. The food of the Arabs, and the poorer sort of the merchants, for this journey was, as written by my Mohammed, ("Souweekah-Zameetah," that is, two names); but commonly called Zameetah, which is nothing more than barley or wheat burnt or malted, then ground, and afterwards made into paste. On this is sometimes poured a little oil or fat; but many cannot afford this luxury, and must content themselves with a little water to make up the meal into paste. I may safely affirm, there was not a bit of meat eaten, or a drop of tea or coffee drunk, in the whole caravan of merchants, with 200 camels, including, with the Arabs, some 150 persons, during the last four days, except what was eaten and drunk in my tent. I myself had only a little bit of fowl. The Sheikh Shabanee (Makouran) as the Arabs call him, was the most civil to me. His portion of the camels is about forty, and he seems a most respectable old gentleman. He has two sons with him. He gave me last night a guzzle of cool water, a large brass pan full, of the size of a warming-pan, which I drank off in an instant, and found it more like nectar, than our earthy animalculæ water; it was so deliciously cool and sweet. Valuable, indeed, becomes a thing of commonest use, from its scarcity. The old Sheikh has a donkey with him to carry his drinking-water. The skins keep the water cool even in the hottest part of the day, whilst some which I had in bottles became quite hot. I shall here relate an ingenious stratagem, which I recommend to all African travellers. On leaving The Mountains we had three skins of water, one for each. But first, one of the skins cracked, and we lost a good deal of water, before it could be mended. Then Mohammed, the chief thief, was accustomed to drink large draughts when neither myself nor Said was present. This we learnt from the rest of the caravan. Said, himself, poor fellow, as soon as Mohammed had turned his back, was either to beg me to give him extra water, or help himself. Sometimes I chided him, at others I gave him water, or was too much exhausted to see what he was about. Then Said would help his friends amongst the Arabs now and then, and sometimes the Arabs helped themselves, by going behind me, and sucking from the neck of the skin whilst I was riding. To avoid this, Mr. Gagliuffi told me he always put the neck of the skin-bag before and not behind, so that it was impossible for a person to drink, and at the same time to walk backwards with the camel going forwards, or at any rate to do so without being seen. Then, finally, there was the terrible action of the sun on the water, often reducing it by a fifth, and sometimes a third, of our supply. But the consequence of all this was, our three bags were empty before we arrived at Seenawan, and the little water which had remained, the third day, was so shaken in the skins, all being oiled, that for me it was not drinkable. Now for the stratagem. Apprehending this waste of water, I got twelve pint bottles filled with water at Tripoli, which were packed away as wine and spirits, neither Mohammed or Said suspecting the contrary. Accordingly I quietly despatched my couple of bottles of acqua pura per day, as the London lady drinkers are said to take their sly drops from the far corner of the cupboard, without the least suspicion of my fellow travellers. I overheard once, Mohammed speaking of me to Said: "By G—d! these Christians, what lots of rum they drink: that's the reason, Said, the sun does not kill him—he'll never die. These Christians, Said, are the same as the dæmons; they know everything, but God will punish them at last—if not, there's no God, or Prophet of God." I took no notice, but when we got to Ghadames, I took the remaining bottle, and asked him to drink. He jumped up with alarm. I then called him a fool, and proved to him I had been drinking water at the time he thought I had been drinking rum. He laughed, and said, "Ajeeb, ente Yâkob âkel: (Wonderful, you James are wise.)" I then took upon myself to lecture Mohammed, abusing him for his carelessness in not preserving the water, and asking him if he thought that I, on the first time of traversing The Desert, could put up with dirty water like them, and go without for days, or with a very small quantity?

The Sheikh Makouran continues very civil: to-day he gave me a supply of onions for making soup, and promises to give me a house to live in, when I get to Ghadames. I have, in turn, to give him some medicine, on my arrival, for one of his two wives. I rode a little the Sheikh's donkey last night, at his request. It is nothing like the camel, it stumbled a great deal over the loose stones, and I am told the horses stumble as much. I felt the immense superiority of the camel, with its slow regular pace and sure foot, in these stony wastes. The Sheikh's ass is the only animal of the beast-of-burden sort in the whole caravan, besides the camels. I noticed, however, a few extra unladen camels, which take turn with others for carrying, as also several foals following lightly and friskily their dams. En route, during the nights, the Arab soldiers amused themselves by firing off their matchlocks, the most advanced party answering the farthest behind, and vice versâ. The noise of the gun broke through the painful silence of The Desert, and came finely back reverberating from the Saharan hills with double and treble discharges of sound. When their powder began to be exhausted, and they have never more than half-a-dozen charges, they sang their plaintive love ditties, or chatted to the merchants. On the whole, they showed great good temper, and, pennyless and naked, were happier than well-clothed and wealthy merchants.

In the afternoon of yesterday a letter was brought to me, written by Gameo, which had been in the ghafalah nearly all the length of the route, but had been forgotten. This stated that Mr. Macauley, the American Consul, had kindly prepared a small package of American rum for my journey, and had forgotten to send it till too late—in fact, like several persons in Tripoli, he really thought, what from the intrigues of the Pasha, and the obstacles of the season, I should never get off. I may observe, the nearer a person is to an object, it often happens he sees it less:—

"'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view."

There is infinitely less enthusiasm for African discovery,—nay, more horror of African travelling in Tripoli than in London: in truth, the greater part of the Europeans of Tripoli, and in all Barbary towns, are a degraded unenthusiastic race, wholly occupied with their petty quarrels and intrigues. Of course, a man of my stamp was considered by them either "un sciocco" or "un matto."

It is the misfortune of Africa to be surrounded by a cordon of vitiated races, half-caste and mongrel breeds, propagated from adventurers and convicts from the other continents of the world. So that Africa learns nothing but the vices of civilization from its contact with the rest of the world. It is also certain, that the native tribes of Africa itself are more immoral and barbarous on the coasts than in the interior.

We have had the full moon during our last four days. Our route is always more or less south-west.

As I expected, Said is knocked up and lamed. The Marabout has cheated Said all along out of his rides, under pretence of his having made him a pair of shoes. This Marabout is the cunningest, cruellest rogue I ever met with. But I must here relate a service which he rendered me of considerable importance. Nobody could pronounce, at any rate recollect, my name. Mohammed said to me one day, "Ingleez, we have many names, have you no more than one? The ghafalah can't learn your name, it's too difficult. Make a name like ours, if you haven't one." I then told him I had another, James, and that it was in Arabic, Yâkob. Hereupon, his eyes moved round wildly with joy, and he cried out,—"That's it! that's it!" He immediately started off amongst all the people, calling out my name was "Yâkob." This second christening in The Sahara was an immense advantage to me. There is now not an oasis in the wildest and farthest region of the Great Desert but what has heard of Yâkob. When I arrived at Ghat I was astonished to find even the Touaricks calling me Yâkob, as if I had been brought up with them. Clapperton and the rest of his party adopted Mahometan names, and were wise in doing so. When I was in Fezzan, Clapperton's Arabic name of Abdallah was mentioned more than twenty years after his death in Soudan. Denham was called The Rais, being an officer.

The road from The Mountains to Seenawan is very good. The greater part, indeed, is beautiful broad carriage-road. It is generally well marked with camel-paths, about a foot wide. These well-beaten, well-trodden paths, are very sinuous, running one into another, and often are in great numbers, running parallel in serpentine style, and containing a united breadth of a hundred yards. There are a few places where no road-traces are apparent to the European eye, but the well-practised eye of the Bedouin camel-driver, like the eye of the Indian in the American Wilderness, can see things, and shapes, and signs in The Desert which entirely escape us. Along the line of route small heaps of stone are placed, said by my Marabout "to point out the way." We did not meet a single traveller all the four days, no small parties—no couriers—no one. I shall not soon forget our reaching Seenawan. It was a few hours after midnight. I looked forward to it as the haven of rest from all my sufferings. A fellow-traveller came up to me, (for I had been asking all night long to see it,) and said, "See, Yâkob, there is the Nukhlah (palms) of Seenawan." Looking through the shadowy moon-light, I thought I saw something very small and black, and made a start at it from my camel as if I was going to leap into a downy bed of rest under the eternal shade of grateful palms. When the object is grasped, how its value vanishes! We threw down the mattress under the shade of a little ruined round tower, and I fell asleep. But such a tempest got up that the people waked me, covered with sand, and made me crawl into a hole, called the door of the burge. Here, amongst heaps of stones and dirt, I fell asleep again, and did not wake till called next day near noon.

Seenawan is but a handful of date-trees, thrown upon the wide waste of The Sahara, with one or two pools of sluggish running water, sheltering beneath its palms thirty or forty inhabitants. There are four or five spots of vegetation, gems of emerald on the rugged brow of The Desert. The houses, if such they are, consist of half a dozen or more of mud hovels huddled together, here and there a little stone stuck in the walls, and some dark passages running beneath them. One or two had a couple of stories and a stone wall round them. Yet, within, they are cool, and have dark rooms to protect the inhabitants from both heat and cold. There are also two or three mud and stone burges, or round towers, to protect the few dates and spots of green. Nevertheless, in this pretence of existence, surrounded by the frightful sterility of The Desert, glowed the warmth of true hospitality. The Arab merchant, Zaleeâ, who lives here, and had been one of our caravan, made me come to dine with him in his house, and introduced me to his family. He gave me for dinner boiled mutton and sopped bread. When I started next day, he presented me a supply of eggs and two fowls, a sumptuous feast in The Desert! I found his wife and daughter suffering with ophthalmia, and made them up a pint-bottle of solution for washing the eye. I had had to wash the eyes of many poor Arabs during the last few days. I gave Zaleeâ's aged father half a dozen ship's biscuits, a part of one of which he sopped and ate. The old gentleman offered up a prayer for my safety, and said he would save one to eat on my safe return.

The morning of the 20th was horribly hot, but I was housed and sheltered in the old burge. I received a present of some fresh dates. This was the small black date of Ghadames, which is peculiar to two or three oases about here. They were delicious as fruits of the garden of the Houris, and certainly now more esteemed by me. The Commandant, seeing me write to-day, wished to have the honour of his name being written in my journal. It is Omer Ben Aly Ben Kareem Bez-Zeen Laseeâ. The people showed no jealousy at my writing notes. Indeed, they were quite aware this was part of my business, and often assisted in telling me the names of persons and places. Never went an European into the interior with less suspicions flying about him amongst his fellow-travellers. I attribute this, in a great measure, to the frankness with which I spoke about Government and the Turkish authorities, as well as the Consular people of Tripoli. Besides, I never affected to conceal my objects. Here a man wrote in my journal the names of abuse applied to the lazy, lagging camels, for his own especial amusement; viz., "Ya kafer, Ya kelb, Ya Yehoud, 'Oh thou infidel!' 'Oh thou dog!' 'Oh thou Jew!'" In a quarrel, the Arabs transfer them complacently to one another, with sundry additions and oaths, too broad for ears polite. Kafer, ("infidel,") and Deen El-kelb, ("religion of a dog,") are the most odious terms of abuse which they can throw at one another.

21st.—We left early this first sprinkle of Seenawan vegetation, and passed the 22nd at the larger spot of the oases. This second spot is called Shâour; but both oases are included in the first name, as Ghat and Berkat are included in Ghat. It is necessary to make these distinctions in order to guard against error in laying down the routes. Shâour consists of a few stunted date-trees, a little gusub, a grain esteemed almost as much as wheat, and one or two fig or other fruit-trees. The united oasis, though but containing a population of sixty souls, and all very poor people, pay 600 mahboubs per annum to the Pasha of Tripoli. The oldest man of the place told me, that, from the first hour of his observation and recollection, to the present time, the water had always been the same in quantity. There is always a little more in the winter. It is running water, and as it runs and bubbles up to the surface it is distributed over the little garden plots and patches. I asked him why he did not make the gardens larger? "God bless you," he replied, "we would if we had more water." It is surprising to notice the regularity of even this scanty supply of water through the years of an old man's life, upwards of eighty, in the heart of The Desert, for such is the site of the oasis of Seenawan. I looked about for birds, but saw none. My aged informant said, "In the winter there are some doves." No wild beast haunt the environs; they cannot get at the water. The people keep a few sheep, goats, and fowls. There are also a dozen or so of camels. It is remarkable that the soil of this speck of vegetable existence is entirely sandy, and all the water comes out of the sand. But in places, indeed, on the coast of Barbary, the finest and most vigorous vegetation often bursts forth out of a purely sandy soil. By the time all the ghafalah had taken their supply of water, and the camels had drunk, the pools were dried up or exhausted, and the people of the village had to wait for the running of the water. I put a last question to my aged Saharan Cicerone,—"How do you live here, do you work?" "I am always sleeping," (or kéd, "reposing.") "But, how do you get anything to eat?" "Oh, I eat every other day, when I can get it, and sleep the rest of the time: what can I do?" Such is vegetable and animal existence here! Nevertheless, this show and sham of life looks fair, fresh, nay, enchanting, after the five days' desert; and all, as well as myself, welcomed Seenawan as a little Hesperides.

We were a tolerably harmonious caravan, but had now and then a good quarrel. To-day a serious misunderstanding broke out between the Commandant Omer and one of the merchants. I could not learn what it was about, but Omer drew his sword twice to strike the merchant, and was only prevented doing so by the bystanders rushing on him. The Sheikh Makouran came to me apart and said: "Now, if they ask you who's to blame, say both." We then advanced to the parties, and the Sheikh turned to me, and said: "Yâkob, who's to blame?" I immediately said, though I knew nothing of the business: "Everybody, all of you." This was the signal for a burst of laughter, and the group separated. The quarrel, however, did not finish, it was carried to Ghadames and settled there. The Arabs enjoy a good quarrel, and, like good ale, they prefer it, not being too new, but caulked up a bit. The greater part of their occupation and amusement is supplied by quarrels.

Before leaving Seenawan the merchants dispatched a courier to Ghadames, and Mohammed wrote a letter to the Governor, telling him very pompously: "The English Consul of Ghadames was approaching the city under his protection." Mohammed said he had submitted the letter to the Sheikh Makouran, and it was approved. I approved of anything that had not my name attached to it.

22nd, 23rd.—Left in the afternoon, and continued all night, till two hours before day-break. Rose at sun-rise and continued till nearly noon. Halted for the Kailah, and afterwards resumed our journey, continuing all night. The people of the ghafalah amused themselves in the night, by "playing at powder." As they fired the matchlocks, they shouted the name of the person whom they intended to honour, mostly firing off the gun just under his nose. Mohammed was very active in the business, and kept firing off my praises, and those of the Sheikh Makouran. This mode of compliment is universal in North Sahara. The Marabout is a good politician, and knows what he is about. He knew that Makouran and myself could serve him. The style of firing off these praises was this: "Who's this for?" cries the person that has the musket ready loaded. A number of persons, the flatterers of the great man, answer, "The Sheikh Makouran!" The majority has it if other names are mentioned. The man with his gun then runs before the Sheikh, and fires it off in his face, or a very short distance from him.

The camel-drivers showed a perverse disposition for continuing all night the 22nd and 23rd, and would not halt, without difficulty, for the two or three hours' rest before day-break. The Commandant called for more than an hour: "Ya ould ol kéd, (You first fellows stop!)" I never felt so angry with any people, as I did with these oulad in advance, I myself was calling out, "You first fellows stop!" But they were full a mile in advance. The Arabs are very fond of this sort of disorder and annoyance to others. Another party took it into their heads to halt at noon, the 23rd, several miles from the rest. The Commandant went after them, broke up their encampment with violence, using his sword to hide them, and brought them up to the main body. Very windy these two days, and got the sand in everything, cooking utensils, cups, glasses, bowls. We found the sand, however, occasionally useful, and used it instead of water for cleaning our platters and cooking pots. Some of the people say, it is better than water for cleaning pots and platters.

I have already said how my camel was harnessed, if harnessing it can be called. First, two panniers were placed (nicely balanced), which formed a sort of platform upon a level with the camel's back-ridge and hump; a mattress and skins next were placed on this, which were tied down with Arab herb-cords, and carried under the belly of the camel, securing the panniers as well as the coverlets. A small ottoman was then put at the top, on which I sat as on a chair-cushion, with my legs hanging down on each side of the camel's neck. Sometimes I lay at my full length across the mattress. But this the people disapproved of for fear I should fall off. They, however, frequently slept this way whilst riding. I was dressed as slightly as possible, and had on a gingham frock coat, with a leghorn hat. During the time the sun was above the horizon, I held up an umbrella and tied a dark-green silk handkerchief over my eyes and face. I could have borne more clothing, but I think the Moors and Arabs had too much. They don't change the quantity with the season, and wear as much in summer as in winter. The consequence is, they are very cold in winter, and very much oppressed in summer; but it is mostly the want of means which does not allow them to change their clothing with the season. I carried a little bottle of spirits and water to drink. In the night I was to eat a little biscuit. None of the camels had bridles, unless used solely to ride upon. The camel which I rode was a very good one, and very knowing, and, like many knowing animals, very vicious. He was in the habit of biting all the other camels which did not please him on their hind quarters, but took care not to get bitten himself. He seldom stumbled, and I was rarely in fear of falling. A camel will never plunge down a deep descent, but always turn round when it comes to the edge of a precipice. I often rode for several hours with comparative comfort. The camel-drivers never ride when their camels are laden, sometimes suffering as much as the camels themselves. I somewhat offended the self-love of the people of Ghadames. I asked them whether Ghadames was bigger than Seenawan. They said pettishly, "Ghadames blad medina, (Ghadames is a city)."

24th.—Emjessen. Arrived at these wells about 10 A.M. Earlier we had passed a place where they were trying to get water. Emjessen is a vast salt plain, which is covered over in different parts with a coating of salt, hard enough and thick enough to furnish materials for building. And here they were building a burge, "tower," or kasbah, "castle," or fonduk, "caravanserai," (all which names people called it,) with a large wall round the principal wells, the materials of which were red earth and lumps of salt, some of which appeared as hard as the soft Malta stone. The water is, of course, brackish, but nevertheless the camels drank it with eagerness. I was staring at the eagerness with which the camels were drinking, when the Commandant said, "Enhr skoun, Yâkob," (a hot day, James,) "do the camels in your country drink water in that way?" Hereat a merchant interposed, and instructed the Rais that the English had no camels, but lived on boats in the water. This is a very commonly spread opinion respecting the English in The Desert. But Caillié says of the Foulahs near Kankan, and other tribes: "The prevailing idea of the people in the interior of Soudan is, that we inhabit little islands in the middle of the ocean, and that the Europeans wish to get possession of their country, which is the most beautiful in the world." Mohammed would not allow his camels to drink here, and said the water was bad. Emjessen is situate about ten hours from Ghadames, say, a short day's journey.

The Sahara all around now showed still more marked features of sterility, of unconquerable barrenness. Here too, for the first time, I saw boundless ridges and groups of sand stretching far away to the south-west, but they were low squatting heaps. Some sand-hills we had crossed for an hour or two. Mohammed called them wâr, and asked me to descend to save his camel's legs, I thought my legs less practised in The Desert than the camel's, and kept my place. Here were spread about, between the sand-hills and low black stony ridges, plains of salt and chalk. My first impression was, that the sea had once covered these regions.

Our route was still south-west, and south, and the prevailing wind ghiblee, or from about the same quarter.

On leaving Emjessem, we were met in the afternoon by several friends and relatives of the merchants, who had come from Ghadames in answer or invitation to our letters written at Seenawan. These strangers (to me) were finely mounted upon camels of the Maharee species, both themselves and their camels dressed out superbly, the camels being tightly reined up like coursers. They had a novel and noble appearance, and I thought I saw in them something of the genuine features of The Desert. They had come eight or ten miles an hour, a long galloping trot, for such is the motion of the camel. As soon as the two parties met, there was a simultaneous scamper off of our camels, and some of theirs got very unmanageable. I was nearly thrown off, and it required Mohammed and Said to hold my camel until the alarm had subsided. The Sheikh Makouran was obliged to dismount and ride his donkey. I asked Mohammed what was the matter, for I could not understand this strange confusion all at once amongst the camels. He cried very angrily, "The camels are drunk, are mad—God made them so." When things got more settled, the merchants explained to me that it was the antipathies of the two races, the coast-camel, and the Maharee or desert-camel. That each was alarmed, but the most fierce and dominant was the Maharee, which always assumed the mastery over the coast-camel, "like," added one, "the Touarick assumes to be lord over the Arab."

To-night I was obliged to quarrel seriously with Mohammed. Said was now quite lame and could not walk more. I told Mohammed plainly he should have no present as first promised, since he had broken his agreement about Said's riding. He then put Said on a camel. The merchants were much amused at the quarrel, and thought me an ass to quarrel about a slave, (for such they esteemed Said) having a ride[18]. Some few observed I was right, and bullied Mohammed, who now made another lying excuse, that his two camels were knocked up, which was the reason Said didn't ride. The early part of the night he had been riding one of them himself, and taxing him with this, he said, "Yes, but was I not ill, didn't you give me some water and acid, and sugar?" I replied, "Yes, I recollect it too well, I'm sorry I had so good an opinion of you." The Commandant now came up, and some bawled, "Here's a shamatah[19] with Said," and explained the business. The Commandant, without any more to do, takes the back of his sword and belabours Mohammed till he cries for mercy. Then the people beg the Rais to desist, and say, "Mohammed is a marabout and must not be beaten." Mohammed was very cunning, and always took care to repeat aloud a prayer when we started afresh from any station, and so gained the esteem of the more pious. Said rode the rest of the way to Ghadames.

During the greater part of the night of the 24th we reposed. At dawn of day, on the 25th, we started fresh on the last march. Just when day had broken over half the heavens, I saw Ghadames! which appeared like a thick streak of black on the pale circle of the horizon. This was its date-woods. I now fancied I had discovered a new world, or had seen Timbuctoo, or followed the whole course of the Niger, or had done something very extraordinary. But the illusion soon vanished, as vanish all the vain hopes and foolish aspirations of man. I found afterwards that I had only made one step, or laid one stone, in raising for myself a monument of fame in the annals of African discovery!

FOOTNOTES:

[12] The term Rais is applied by these people both to a naval and military commander, the literal meaning being "head."

[13] When an European arrives first in a remote Barbary town, although there may be many Europeans in the place, he is mostly called and mentioned in Moorish society as "The Christian," which happened to myself in Mogador.

[14] How strangely the genius of nations of such different habits have given the name of "sisters" to separate groups of trees. I have also passed twin peaks of mountains in Africa, called "brothers" by the Arabs. But Bou or Abou, "father," is the ordinary appellation of things in North Africa. Omm, "mother," is also very common. The two last are found in combination.

[15] Long names are not confined to European rank and royalty. The Sheikh's name in full is, "The Sheikh Bel Kasem Ben Ali Abd-el-Hafeeth, the Rujbanee." And this is only the quarter of the length of some of these names.

[16] So I found it written in the first portions of the journal.

[17] Yâkob, Arabic for James.

[18] There were certainly several slaves walking; but they were all long accustomed to it, whilst Said had only just come out of a weaver's establishment, where he had been many years.