CHAPTER XXISHEEP-BREEDING

Photographs by Mr. Julian SampsonA Water Carrier in LaghouatAlgerian Cavalryman

Photographs by Mr. Julian SampsonA Water Carrier in Laghouat

Photographs by Mr. Julian Sampson

A Water Carrier in Laghouat

Algerian Cavalryman

Photographs by Mr. Julian SampsonHead Shepherd, the Author, the Kaïd Madam and the Calipha

Photographs by Mr. Julian Sampson

Head Shepherd, the Author, the Kaïd Madam and the Calipha

Caravan Moving North

When I am there the head shepherd, and perhaps the head man of some neighboring camp, dine with me, and then all the other shepherds come and sit round my fire to smoke or tell stories till bed-time. The women, though unveiled, rarely appear and they are so silent that one hardly realizes they are there, but they prepare a very excellent meal and with apparently no materials weave all the tents and clothes for their menfolk.

In the winter we move only a few miles at a time, from pasture to pasture, but when it begins to get hot and the grazing scarce the whole camp is packed up and we set out for a long journey to the mountains in the north. It takes a fortnight or so to cover the two or three hundred miles to our summer quarters. Here the area is much more restricted, and the camp remains much longer in the same place until the time to move south comes round again in the autumn.

Market-day in the villages of the Tell during the summer months is a most interesting sight. All the tribes are there—Larbas, Chambas, Ouled Naïls—outnumbering the regular inhabitants, and one hears the deep voices of these people from the Sahara, and in the evening the southern pipe is played in all the cafés.

The rich chiefs who live in the oases usually have their country homes in the mountains, and those who have not are usually related to the local magnates and spend the summer with them.

There are, of course, a great many nomads who never leave the south at all, but wander about all the year in the Sahara. The pasture is very scarce, but there is just enough for the sheep and they get all the benefit of the first autumn rains. Nomads have prejudices about moving out of their own areas and prefer to remain in a country they know.

It is unfortunately difficult to get to know these people well. They are timid of strangers, and as they can not speak one word of French the visitor must have a very fluent knowledge of Arabic to make himself understood. They are suspicious of being exploited, very quick of temper, and where honor is concerned do not hesitate to use the knife or the gun. They are very childish in their jokes, and if they see that one means no ill they soon become attracted and friendly. Their women are, generally speaking, chaste, and though there are intrigues, which usually end in some one getting murdered, they are the exception.

A little story of an incident which occurred in a neighboring camp to mine will perhaps illustrate the mentality of these people.

A rich nomad possessed a good-looking wife who was much admired by asheikwho, owing to business reasons, lived in an oasis. Thesheikowned flocks himself, and he often had to pass the night near the camp where dwelt the object of his affections. He courted her on the sly, and though the lady regularly rebuffed him he was in no way deterred. One night it so happened that he had to sleep in the camp of the rich nomad, and he lost not a moment to press the lady to grant him his requests. At first she refused, but after a while she seemed to relent, and told him to wait till she made a signal and then to creep under the blanket which divided the men’s section from the woman’s, and come to her. The young man was in his seventhheaven, and when all was quiet he was duly called, and crept toward his lady-love. When he was quite close she whispered to him to take off all his clothes. He complied with alacrity, and when he was in nature’s garments the woman turned to him and said:

“So this is how thou repayest the nomad’s hospitality!”

The young man gazed at her speechless.

“I am now going to wake up my husband,” she continued, turning to where the old man slept.

In a moment the youngsheikwas on his knees imploring mercy, begging forgiveness, swearing fidelity, trembling at the thought of the fate which would surely await him if the threat were carried out. The woman watched him disdainfully for a moment.

“Coward!” she said at last. “Had I seen that thou wast prepared to meet thy fate like a man I should have respected thee and perhaps accorded thee a favor; as it is thou art not even worthy of the knife of my man; thou canst go!”

The lover made as if to take his clothes.

“Nay, nay,” she said, smiling, as she laid her hand on the bundle, “a craven needs no garments. Go; quick, quick, or I shall rouse the whole camp!”

The youth looked at her, and seeing the look of determination, slunk out on to the plain, found his horse, and was obliged to ride naked to the oasis; and there is no humiliation greater for an Arab than to be seen without any clothes on.

Havingtalked about the nomads we must now cast a glance at their occupation. Of all the many industries in Algeria, sheep-breeding is the oldest, as perhaps it is in all countries where pastures are unlimited and where lack of communication makes it difficult to set up big commercial towns. Moreover, the Arab is essentially a shepherd by instinct, and living a wandering life with no fixed abode but his camel’s hair tent, it is immaterial to him where his sheep pasture, and it is amazing to note the vast tracts of country crossed by a flock during the course of the year.

Messieurs Bernard and Redon say in theHistoire, Colonisation, Géographie et Administration de l’Algérie:

“The Moghreb (original name of Algeria before the Phœnician settlements) is especially suited for the cultivation of cereals, vines and olive-trees, and for sheep-breeding. . . . the Numidians were excellent horsemen who lived by pillage and by the produce of their great flocks.”

Further, speaking of the invasion of the Hillals in the twelfth century, they say:

“The newcomers were fierce nomads who did not invade as did the first Arabs, in small groups, but in hordes, millions of men followed by equally vast flocks.”

The greatest sheep-breeding centers are in the southern part of the department of Algiers, some two hundred miles from Algiers, and right away to the south as far as Ghardaïa.

There is also a certain amount of breeding in the southern tracts of Oranie and in Constantine, but the inhabitants of these areas are more interested in cereals, and the Arabs of Biskra are specialists in dates.

The district known as the Sersou, on the high level above the Sahara, must not be forgotten as one of the finest pasture-lands of Algeria, but the majority of the flocks there have come up from Laghouat and Ghardaïa to escape the intense heat of the summer.

Many people who have only visited the country in a superficial or tourist manner, are filled with incredulous surprise when they are told of sheep-farming in the Sahara.

“But what do the sheep eat and drink?” they exclaim.

It is difficult to explain this to those not versed in the constitution of a sheep, but when one realizes that in winter a sheep can go for three months without drinking, and finds nourishment and water in the rough scrub which grows all over the Sahara, it is not surprising that these great flocks thrive and that the sheep grow as fat as their cousins in Europe.

Presumably if an animal is brought up to live on scrub and do without green grass it has no taste for other nourishment, and there is little doubt that if a camel was let loose on the Scottish moors it would be unable to assimilate the rich food owing to the formation of its digestive organs.

However, whatever the best diet for a sheep may be, the result is enormous flocks all along the northern belt of the Sahara, which are a source of great revenueto the Arabs. Few Europeans have ventured into this business, in the first place, because the Frenchman has not that adventurous spirit which characterizes the British colonist, and in the second because unless one knows the country and its people well it is difficult to enter on a venture of this kind alone. But those who have had the courage to start are delighted and amazed at the results.

First of all the original capital required is comparatively small, three hundred to five hundred pounds being sufficient to buy the first flock; and second, the return is large and very rapid. Given an average year, the investor can count on a regular annual thirty to sixty per cent. net for himself on his money after paying all expenses, including the remuneration of his Arab partner.

The expenses are negligible; they need hardly be taken into consideration. They consist of market fees (only at the big markets where there are tens of thousands of sheep for sale), shearing fees, and a small pasturage tax when the flocks are in the north. The shepherd of each flock is paid in kind. That is to say, he is given an old burnous (Arab cloak), a few measures of barley and twelve to fourteen lambs each year. No further expenditure is required, and though losses occur occasionally from drought, there is never a hundred per cent. mortality.

Since 1900 there have been only two of what are known as famine years. During those two years sheep died at a rate of from fifty to sixty per cent., but this is a very exceptional occurrence. Curiously enough years like this which are disasters to some are windfalls to others. The people who suffer are those who have not sufficient reserve funds to be able to hold out during the bad period and who are obliged to sell out. Those, therefore, who are not entirely dependent onthe sale of their sheep to live, buy up from the poorer breeders at negligible cost. When there is a mortality of thirty per cent. it is considered very bad, but this happens perhaps once in seven years, and even then one has the remaining seventy per cent. from which to continue breeding. The average mortality does not exceed ten per cent. and it has been known as low as three.

The system of working the flock is for the European capitalist to enter into an agreement with an Arab: a chief of some tribe or some native of good reputation owning flocks of his own. Through him all the purchases are made at the various markets, or direct from the nomad tribes as they pass through the district. He is responsible for all dealings with the Arabs for the pastures, for the selection of shepherds, in fact for all the technical work to do with the natives, which no European could possibly cope with.

At the end of each year the profits are estimated and after sharing expenses, half goes to the Arab partner. This may sound excessive, but when one considers that he is responsible for the whole of the breeding, and that without him it would be impossible to do the business without being robbed of eighty per cent. of the profits, it is not too much. Moreover, in the unlikely case of dead loss the Arab partner bears half. There have been one or two rare examples where Frenchmen who know the country well, and who can speak the language, have launched forth on their own; they have found that after a year’s work the flock has been mysteriously stolen by some migrating tribe and that it can not be found. What redress has the Frenchman? He can have the shepherd imprisoned if he can find him, but this won’t return him his sheep or his money. On the other hand, when an Arab loses a few sheep he has every redress possible from hiscolleagues and friends, the chiefs of the district, who will set all the tribes in such a hum that it is not worth while for the robbers to conceal the spoil long.

The way these nomads track a lost flock across hundreds of miles of stony areas baffles all comprehension. I have seen a man track thirty-five strayed sheep from Chellala to Ghardaïa, over two hundred miles of the most desolate country, and never make a mistake until he reached the sheep. During the tracking he crossed the spoor of some thousand other flocks, but he hardly hesitated in his relentless march, whereas I could not see as much as a mark on the stony ground. I remember at one moment I expressed my amazement at this apparent witchcraft. The Arab chief, my partner, laughed.

“Look,” said he, “what do you see on the ground?”

I peered down and, after a long scrutiny, I said doubtfully. “It is something like the print of a man’s foot, but I am not sure.”

The Arab smiled.

“It is the print of an unmarried girl of the tribe of the Chambas,” he replied without hesitation.

In amazement I looked at him.

“But how?” I asked.

“I can not describe to you the difference between the print of an unmarried girl and a woman without having the two prints before me,” he replied, “but I know.”

“But the tribe?” I exclaimed incredulously.

“There is a date-stone beside the foot-mark,” continued the Arab, “which only comes from the palms which grow in the land of the Chambas.”

I said no more. That night we came to a group of nomad tents.

“Ask them who they are,” said the chief, smiling.

I hailed them and a voice from the dark said, “Chambas!”

No, I do not think that half the profit is too large a remuneration for the Arab partner. . . .

At the end of each working year, that is October till September, the final settlement of accounts takes place. If so wished the entire flock can then be sold. Moreover, this can be done at any moment, and it is a point to be noted that the money invested is never immobilized, as there is always a market for sheep, and like other commodities the price follows the rate of the dominating currency on the money-market. If the wisest course is followed, merely selling the produce (lambs, wool and butter), leaving the original flock intact, it will be found that in a good year the capital will be reimbursed at the end of the first season, while the flock remains as profit to go on breeding from. If from this moment one contents oneself with the sale of butter and wool only, which bring in ten per cent., and one keeps the lambs, one will see the original flock multiply itself into many flocks in an incredibly short space of time.

The Arabs among themselves never keep any regular accounts, but gage their fortunes by flocks and keep as little ready money as possible. When they want to buy a horse or a motor-car or a wife, they send so many flocks or portions of flocks to the nearest market and pay their bill with the proceeds. If some of them ever realized their livestock, they would find themselves on a footing with some of the big fortunes of Europe with every luxury at their disposal. But they prefer to remain living quietly in their Arab centers, content with the mercies of Allah, opposed to all thoughts of the future, for after all, Allah is almighty, Allah will provide, and if he does not,mektoub!

Apartfrom the breeding of sheep on the Hauts Plateaux and in the Sahara, we also find cattle-raising in the Tell and in the coast hills of the department of Oran, while horse-breeding is carried on all along the southern slopes of the Atlas. The cattle are not very big, and would compare sadly with any European breed, but they bring in a comfortable little revenue to the breeder and suffice for the needs of the country.

Horses are more in the hands of the Europeans, who have created some quite good centers for improving the strain, but generally speaking, the fiery steed associated with pictures of Arab life is conspicuous by its absence, and, though one can get an average mount for the asking, a really fine horse is hard to buy.

The breeding of camels, mules and donkeys is entirely in the hands of the Arabs and is of little interest financially.

Algeria is, however, essentially an agricultural country and has been so ever since the days of the Romans. Unfortunately the richness of its soil and the abundance of sunshine is handicapped by the lack of regular rain, and the farmers live always in fear of drought.

Dams have been made across some of the big river-beds which are full of water in winter, but they are not so complete as in the days of the Romans. Two thousand years ago Algeria was the granary of a greatempire; now in good years it exports a vast proportion of its cereals, but in a bad year it has to import. Wheat, barley, oats are grown all over the department of Oran, and in the center and the south of Constantine. There is also some grain in the department of Algiers, and little by little the sowing is extending. This is due a great deal to the energy of the manager of an American firm, the International Harvester Company, which has proved to the Algerian farmer the amount that can be done to improve production by using modern methods and perfected machinery.

The vine, though it does not cover nearly so large an area as the cereals, is considered as of almost greater importance.

It is some fifty years since the first Frenchman came to Algeria in search of soil not infested by phylloxera and attempted planting vineyards. The results were so amazing that more and more people hurried over the Mediterranean, and in twenty years the land was producing ten times the amount of wine as at the start. This, however, nearly led to disaster, as there was suddenly a glut of wine on the market and the prices dropped to nothing. However, the system was soon reorganized, and Algiers now exports a seventh of its production to the mother country. This wine, being stronger in alcohol and in color than French wine, is used for blending purposes. Many of the Burgundies and Bordeaux which do not come from some specific vineyard are half Algerian, and practically three parts of thevins ordinairesserved in French cafés come from over the Mediterranean.

In Algiers itself there are certain well-knowncrus, such as La Trappe de Staoueli, a plain wine, Medea, and Miliana from the hills.

In Oranie, too, there are one or two small wine-producingdistricts, such as Mascara; but practically all the vineyards are in the department of Algiers, and center round the plain of the Mitidja and the adjacent hills. All modern improvements for pressing and fermenting have been brought in, for as the picking takes place in the heat of summer, the fermenting is a very delicate operation.

Phylloxera has been practically stamped out and though drought is feared, it has not the same disastrous effects as on the cereals, owing to a certain amount of irrigation.

The great danger is a sirocco just before thevendange. It seems unbelievable, but I have seen entire vineyards withered up in six hours under the blast of this terrible hot wind from the south. One can actually see the leaves turning brown and the bunches of grapes shriveling, just as if a fire had been lighted beneath the vines. Luckily this only happens once in a while, and the average years are good.

The wine is strong and rather heady, coarse in comparison to the French wines, but very well suited to the rather special food of the country.

In the same district as the vine we find the mandarin, orange, and lemon plantations. Protected by cypress-trees, the golden fruit is grown in large quantities, and exported daily during the winter months.

A curious herb known as geranium is also grown on this fertile plain. It is made into perfume, and supplies the base for cheap scent. A great deal of it goes to England, and, curiously enough, the only other country where it is cultivated in quantity is Mauritius.

All along the coast east and west of Algiers we find the market-gardens for early vegetables. The expert labor is chiefly supplied by Majorcans and Sicilians, and during a good year it is a most profitableoccupation, as the markets of Paris and other big centers are supplied from these tiny seacoast gardens.

Next in importance comes the tobacco industry. The best plantations are along the coast east of Algiers, in the lower levels of the Kabyle country, and, again, in that wonderfully fertile plain of the Mitidja. Provided one can obtain the suitable soil, it is one of the most profitable products to exploit—little cost, and none of the worry or expense incurred by the Regie, as in France. Moreover, it is quite a high-class tobacco, and some of the cigars are really quite good smoking, while the pipe tobacco and the cigarettes can be offered to the mostdifficile. It is much healthier smoking as there are no foreign matters or mixtures, but just the pure leaf, which differs according to district.

Figs are grown in great quantity in the Kabyle Mountains, and are exported. In the prolongation of the same mountains and all along the coast to Tunisia the cork forests abound. This industry is much developed, and English and American firms vie with the Algerians to obtain concessions and export the cork to their own countries.

The olive-tree is indigenous to Algeria, and grows wild on all the mountains. In certain centers the trees are grafted, and the olives are plucked and oil extracted from them.

Apart from the fruit-bearing trees, however, the forests of Algeria are few and far between. Here and there one comes upon magnificent cedars and pines, but it is not a wooded country, and a great deal of the timber is imported.

There are people who maintain that Algeria was once covered with forests, and that the same state of things could be reproduced. I am not of this opinion; in the first place, because of the absence of practicallyany coal, and second, by the fact that the country is, and always has been, essentially agricultural.

There are minerals of many kinds in Algeria, but never in great quantity. Iron, zinc, lead and copper have been found, but they are not worked, merely taken out of the ground and sent to Europe.

A little oil has been tapped in Oranie, but up to the present not in sufficient quantity to make its development interesting from a commercial point of view. The same can be said of the small coal-field discovered near Colomb Bechar, in the south of the same department.

The most interesting product of the soil is phosphates, which are found in great quantity in the department of Constantine, whence they are exported daily from the ports of Bougie and Bône.

Hot springs abound in Algeria, and, with the exception of Hammam Rhira and Hammam Meskoutine, are not developed. It is a pity, as they have excellent healing qualities, and those people with rheumatism who have frequented the baths at Hammam Rhira are delighted with the results.

Before leaving this subject we must once more turn our eyes to the Southern Territories, in order not to forget two of the most important industries of the country: the date-palms and the alfa grass.

Unexpectedly the date worthy of exportation thrives only in certain restricted areas where the temperature and rainfall are exactly suited. However, when this occurs the owner of a palmery can count on a very substantial income.

The alfa grass, which grows wild all over the Sersou and Hauts Plateaux, is divided up into concessions, owned chiefly by British firms, and it is exported to be made into paper.

This is already a very dull chapter, and I will notweary the reader with any further dissertation on commerce, but I hope that, after reading thisrésuméof the products of Algeria, he will realize what a rich country it is, and what a future of prosperity lies before it. The Phœnicians guessed its value; the Romans realized it; the Arabs forgot it all; and the French are beginning to complete what the Romans began. Well may they prosper!

Now that we have before us an outline of the history, geography, administration and customs of the country under examination, it seems opportune to say a few words about Algeria from the point of view of the tourist.

The traveler visiting this country will either journey direct by sea to Algiers or else will take the overland route via Paris and Marseilles, which is the more rapid. In either case he will arrive by sea.

His first impressions of Algiers, rising out of the Mediterranean like a white bubble in a sea of sapphire, will be the best he will have of this once Turkish city, now a vast commercial town and only a little less noisy than Marseilles. The sight of the Arab quarter, piling itself up in a pyramid of white and blue roofs above the European houses, with the fresh gardens of Mustapha away to the left and the Turkish forts in the foreground, is a vision of delight. And though, once landed, the smell of Oriental people and the red-fezzed porters may rouse for a moment a sense of the East, this atmosphere will not last long.

Algiers of to-day is essentially a big commercial town of over two hundred thousand inhabitants. Owing to the configuration of the ground it has spread east and west, giving it a sea-front of some ten miles. Inland the houses have crept up the hills as far as possible, but in many places it is too steep to attempt building, and one- or two-storied villas are the generalrule. Most of these villas are lamentable modern constructions, but there are a few which date from the old Arab days, and in which there are a multitude of lovely marbles and tiles of the period. These villas were occupied after the French conquest by followers of the victorious army, and later, when Algiers was discovered as a winter resort, they passed into the hands of English hibernators.

In those days the life on the Mustapha Hill was brilliant and amusing. The English colony was composed of well-to-do people who spent half the year in these Arab villas, while those who had not permanent residences settled in the few local hotels. An English club flourished, and a real society existed. But all this is gone. The facilities of transit, the mechanical age in which we live, and newly acquired wealth have dispelled all this pleasant life.

The English hibernators who inhabited the picturesque villas have in many cases been supplanted by foreigners, and those who remain are not much given to entertaining, so that it is rare for the outsider to get more than a glimpse of the multi-colored tiles. Great hotels have sprung up, rivaling one another in a second-rate atmosphere of the Riviera; Swiss waiters do their utmost to keep up the illusion, but the lack of elegance handicaps them.

If, therefore, the visitor is not seeking gossip and bridge in overheated drawing-rooms, or the company of summer boarders from Bexhill and the relics of our great Indian Empire, he will do well to stay just long enough in Algiers to collect his breath, and then penetrate into the interior and see the real life of the country. If, however, he is not of an active nature, he can find excursions round about Algiers, but it will be at the cost of submitting to the gala nights of the Mustapha hotels, of the unsyncopated music of lamentableorchestras, while the middle-aged ladies of fashion sit round criticizing the few youthful or well-dressed creatures who have strayed by accident into this mediocre society.

Algiers is not Algeria, and its people are wisely called “Algerois,” as against “Algeriens.”

The commercial city about the port is interesting from the point of view of any one desirous of examining the development of a growing city. Eight great banks do a brisk business, which alone speaks for the trade passing through Algiers. The harbor, which is now being more than doubled in size, will, when completed, rival the largest ports of the Mediterranean. The biggest battleships and liners of the world can berth comfortably in its shelter, and there is rarely an hour in the day when merchantmen are not approaching or leaving its quays. Everywhere there is an atmosphere of booming trade, and it is undoubtedly a fact that, if Algiers had an independent government with an independent exchequer, the franc would be a good deal nearer par with the pound sterling than it is at present.

The visitor has, however, probably not come to this sunny country to go into statistics and business opportunities, and it will be sufficient, therefore, if he drives through the town with the knowledge that he is in the midst of a trading-center which in a few years will stand on a level with Lyons and Bordeaux.

The “sights” of Algiers can be done easily in one day, as they are all concentrated about the Kasba (literally fort, but here the name given to the Arab city). The most interesting building to see is the Governor’s winter palace, formerly the residence of the dey, and until a few years ago occupied by the Governor-General. It is now used for official receptions, as government offices, and for exhibitions. Agreat deal of the original building has been spoiled by the improvement put in by the military engineers, but there remain some lovely tiles and woodwork which, apart from their many historical associations, make the visit worth while.

A Street in the Kasbah, Algiers

Mosque of Sidi Abd-er-RahmaneCafé Outside Grande Mosque, Algiers

Mosque of Sidi Abd-er-Rahmane

Café Outside Grande Mosque, Algiers

The Archbishop’s palace opposite is a typical Arab house with some fine tiles, while the Public Library, once the house of Mustapha Pasha, is one of the finest examples of Moorish architecture and contains more beautiful tiles. While speaking of these tiles it would perhaps be well to say a few words about their origin. During the period of Turkish rule in Algeria, when the corsairs roamed the Mediterranean, it was the custom to bring the prisoners back to Algiers. Some of them were held for ransom, and the ransom imposed either took the form of money or of tiles from the countries whence came the prisoners. If among the prisoners who were captured there were found artisans who understood building or the creation of these tiles, they were employed in constructing and beautifying the houses of their captors. Hence in all these Arab villas one finds Florentine, Milanese, Dutch and Persian tiles. In one of the villas of Mustapha there is even a record of the capturing of an English sailor who was kept by the Turks for some years.

The Grande Mosquée, built in the tenth centuryA. D., differs little from other mosques. The Mosque of Sidi-Abd-er-Rahmane is worth a visit as the resting-place of the patron of Algiers.

The actual Kasba is a picturesque series of narrow streets climbing up the hill from the Winter Palace to the Fort l’Empereur: so-called because it was here that Charles Quint for a brief moment made his headquarters. It is very dirty and smelly.

If one can obtain access to a private house one will have an interesting peep at a simple interiorcontrasting vividly with the riches of the palaces, and from the roof one will obtain a marvelous view of the Arab city. A visit at night is also recommended, when the dirt will be invisible and the flickering lights in the dark streets and the Moorish cafés, with their musicians, carry one away from the modernisms of the great commercial town which throbs so close. In both visits it is recommended to start from the top and walk down toward the sea.

The Admiralty or headquarters of the French Navy in Algeria lies to the north of the harbor. It used to be the headquarters of the pirate chiefs, and it was in its lofty chambers that the raids and expeditions were planned, while below, in the shelter of the tall breakwaters, the fleet waited for its orders. There are some very fine tiles and rather massive architecture, also a series of powder magazines, dungeons, and a remarkable torture-chamber, outside which is an inscription telling it is the site where Christian hostages were blown to pieces at the mouth of the cannon.

In one of the cells Cervantes was imprisoned. The visit to the Admiralty is, however, impossible unless one knows a naval officer on duty in Algiers or has a pass from one of the government officials.

The Jardin d’Essai, a little to the east of the main city, is interesting if one has not seen Kew, and the Arab cemetery above the Kasba discloses a pretty view of the hills behind Algiers; but, generally speaking, Arab Algeria will not be found in Algiers. And, though some of the buildings are very lovely, they are all relics of the barbarous rule of the Turkish conqueror, and they do not represent anything appertaining to the country.

With the inrush of commerce Algiers has lost its charm, and there are no other compensations. Eventhe climate is disappointing. The winter is wet, and, though there are glorious days of sunshine, the atmosphere is relaxing. December is a good month, as are also March, April, and May; the others are either too wet or too hot.

Let the tourist, therefore, make up his mind to spend his holiday traveling, or even in repose in one of the Sahara oases, and he will return to his home with an impression of light and freshness and with a sensation that he has thrown off all the cares of the modern world. If he will take the humble advice of one who knows the country, he will follow in the tracks of the journey described in the next chapters, and, if color and contrasts appeal to him, he will probably return in the succeeding year to these entrancing scenes which never weary the eye.

Beforesetting out on the long journey through Algeria, two short excursions from Algiers seem worthy of mention. The first is an afternoon drive to the easterly point of the bay of Algiers. The distance is barely twenty miles, and though there is nothing in particular to see there, the drive along the coast from Maison Carrée is delightful, and the view from Cape Matifou of Algiers, shimmering white in the distance, is enchanting. Practically no tourists ever go there, and though in the summer the little fishing-village of Laperouse is inhabited by Algerian families who can not holiday in France, in the winter it is deserted.

It is recommended to drive out via Maison Carrée, Fort de l’Eau (the Algerian ape of Deauville in the summer) and the village of Cape Matifou. A mile farther on a sharp turn is taken to the left, and in a few minutes one reaches Laperouse. Passing through the village a rough road leads one to the point on which stands the lazaret used for the quarantine confinement of pilgrims returning from Mecca.

If there is a storm in the Mediterranean, the sea dashing itself against the cliffs is a magnificent sight, and the view of the spray bursting over the rocks to the east makes one realize how restless is this inland sea. From the cape one should return to Laperouse, take a look at the little fishing-port, very quiet during the winter months, and then, asking theway to the ruins, picnic in the old Roman bath which overlooks the miniature bay, so blue and calm even when the breakers are roaring against the point.

The ruins are those of Rusgunium, originally a Phœnician center, and later converted by the Romans into a summer watering-place. Unfortunately, with the exception of the baths, practically all vestige of the houses has disappeared; this is not modern neglect, as the stones and mosaics were taken by the Turks to build Algiers of that day.

If the weather is fine it is strongly recommended that one stay until the sunset, as the spectacle of the sun disappearing behind the hills of Algiers, making of it a great brazier of flame, compensates one for the drive back in the dusk. But really to appreciate Laperouse it must be visited on a summer day. The heavy atmosphere of Algiers is left behind, and one finds oneself in a sea of light and freshness. The water lazily laps the cliffs and ripples up on the golden sand. It is never too hot, as the breeze comes from over the sea and, bathing on the hottest day, one can not stay in the water for more than half an hour. The nights are cool, and the twinkling lights of Algiers across the bay, while the summer moon flashes in the tranquil sea, equal a vision from theArabian Nights.

The second excursion is to the west of Algiers to Tipaza and, if time permits, as far as Cherchell. It is advised to do it in two days, as there is much to be seen and little time to appreciate all in a short winter’s day. If, however, time is pressing, Cherchell can be omitted and Tipaza alone visited.

The actual distance is some fifty miles, and the road runs delightfully along the coast all the time. The way is bordered by endless vegetable gardens, for it is along this part of the coast that all theprimeursare grown for the Paris markets.

Castiglione is a pretty little village on the sea coast, as is also Berard, but as in the case of Laperouse they must be imagined in the summer full of holiday-making Algerians. A little beyond Berard can be seen a strange-looking object on the top of the hill, resembling a very large beehive. It is in reality a mausoleum known as theTombeau de la Chrétienne. To visit this it will be necessary to leave the car and climb up a steep path some six hundred feet above the sea. On reaching the pyramid one is struck with a certain similarity with its cousins in Egypt and, in fact, there is reason in this resemblance. One hundred and twenty feet high, with a diameter of one hundred and eighty feet, it is composed of great blocks of stone rising in tiers, and is said to have been built by Juba II. Juba II, it will be remembered, was the son of Juba I, defeated by Cæsar at Thapsus in 46B. C.The boy was taken to Rome and brought up most carefully by Octavia, Cæsar’s sister, and was ultimately married to Cleopatra Selene, the daughter of Antony and Cleopatra. In 43B. C., when the Roman Empire was finally established and the second triumvirate had divided the territory among its members, Octavius restored the old kingdom of Numidia, and in 30B. C.appointed Juba II as its king.

Cæsarea, now Cherchell, became his capital, and for fifty years was the most magnificent city of North Africa. TheTombeau de la Chrétiennewas constructed as the mausoleum for his wife.

There is no real evidence for this story, and many will say that the tomb is much before the time of the Romans. However, the fact remains that this edifice is quite close to the capital of Juba’s kingdom, and that there is another monument practically identical in construction near Batna, in the departmentof Constantine, which is known as the tomb of Syphax, another Numidian king, and that they both have a certain resemblance to the Pyramid of Cheops.

The road continues along the seacoast, delighting the eye by the contrast of the sapphire blue of the Mediterranean lapping the deep red rocks fringed with brilliant green scrub. Eucalyptus woods are passed until the road runs down to the little fishing-village of Tipaza. The Hotel du Rivage is an excellent inn nestling against the red cliffs, while the garden runs down to the miniature port, little changed since the days of the Phœnician traders.

If time is not of importance, a few days spent here in peace and quiet will not be regretted. Originally a Phœnician settlement, Tipaza became in the first century of our era a Roman summer resort for the rich settlers in Cæsarea (Cherchell). All that could be done to make it a center of luxury and pleasure was carried out with infinite care. The temples, the forum, the villas were designed to harmonize with the beauties of nature.

Thanks to private enterprise much of the ruins has been unearthed and one is able to reconstruct this town as it was. Sarcophagi of great beauty have been found, and mosaics in a very good state of preservation have been placed in a small museum by the hotel.

The joy of the place is not so much the actual finds, but being able to realize again the pleasant atmosphere which must have reigned among the wealthy Romans as they walked up and down the forum, which dominates the bay, or dined merrily in the villas looking down on the rippling sea.

Later, when Christianity appeared, there must have been a very fine church to the west of the original town, whence one gets a delightful view of the sandy shore which runs along toward the towering heightsof the Chenoua Mountains. Here, too, the heat-oppressed Algerians come in summer to escape from the damp atmosphere of the white city, and the bathing is wonderful.

Cherchell is some twenty miles farther along the coast. The drive itself is not very interesting, and the town, after Tipaza, is disappointing. There is, however, a very excellent museum, and to those interested in the statues of Rome of that period the visit is worth while. Otherwise the return journey from Tipaza can either be made by the same way in the golden glory of the African sunset, or else inland through the vine-clad hills via Marengo and Kolea.

These are the two excursions, but this chapter can not be closed without reference to the Trappist monastery at Staoueli. This is only twenty minutes in a car from Algiers and is worthy of a visit. The Trappist monks have been expelled, but their monastery, with the great vats in which they made the still famous wine, remains. The monastery is in the hands of Monsieur Lucien Borgeaud, a gentleman of Swiss origin who has continued pressing the grapes as did his holy predecessors, only on a much larger scale.

A visit is welcomed, and in addition to seeing the old building founded by the Trappists at the time of the French conquest, it will be interesting to see how wine is made and the modern improvements put in by this enterprising Algerian.

There are, of course, many pretty drives involving part of the day, such as the Gorges of Palestro and the entrance to the Kabyle country, the Ruisseau des Singes, beyond Blida, Dellys, and the Phœnician city of Tigzirt, on the coast, but as they form part of the greater journey to be dealt with in the next chapters their description is purposely omitted. Suffice it tosay that all the neighborhood of Algiers is enchanting, and that life in Algiers itself, lived in one of its old Moorish villas surrounded by a lovely garden, would be as delightful if it were not for the relaxing climate.

But if we are to appreciate the real charm of the country do not let us tarry too long near the white city.

Thoughperhaps the journey described in these pages is longer than many tourists would wish to undertake, it is rather set out with the idea of giving a notion of the amount that can be seen in a comparatively short space of time and under the easiest conditions.

The trip can, moreover, be divided into separate excursions as indicated in the table of distances at the end of the chapter. It is better to do this journey in a private motor-car, which enables one to rest at will, eat by the roadside, and take photographs. But if the traveler has not the means to progress in this luxury he will find public conveyances at moderate prices on practically every route mentioned. Sometimes it will be the train, sometimes the motor-bus, and though in some cases he will be obliged to travel by rather a roundabout way or occasionally wait a few days for the bus, his journey will always be assured in comfort.

Generally speaking, there is a daily or even bi-daily motor service on all the main roads of North Africa; and it is only in the far south that the bus does not have a regular time-table. Otherwise the times of departure and arrival are as fixed as for a train. The motor-busses are covered and very comfortable, and to the individual who is entertained by strange faces and gay chatter about all that is going on in the country through which he is traveling, the motordiligenceis a delightful entertainment. In fact, if the traveler is bent on studying the country and its people, he will do so much more advantageously in the public conveyance than in the isolation of the private car. However, if he is only on holiday or a pleasure trip the motor is recommended, and it is with the idea of traveling thus that this imaginary journey will be taken.

It is presumed that the period chosen for the tour will be between December and April—January, February or March—and let it be borne well in mind that North Africa in winter, even on the edge of the Sahara, is not a warm country. The thermometer does not actually drop very low, but the biting air of the mountains and the sharp dry winds of the rolling plain or the Hauts Plateaux and the Sahara make heavy coats and rugs essential.

Once south of Laghouat and at Touggourt the temperature is definitely warmer than in the north, but hot days can not be depended on before this latitude is reached. It is true that on the edge of the Sahara the sun heat in the middle of the day makes it impossible to go out bareheaded, but the nights are very sharp. Once into the Sahara the nights are also cold, but in the day it is pleasantly warm, and the overcoats and rugs can be put away; but the return journey across the Kabyle Mountains may be done in a snowstorm. The great thing to remember about Algeria is that it is a country of extremes. The morning may dawn in a downpour of rain and at noon one may lunch in the garden dressed in white. Crossing the mountains during the winter one is practically certain to find rain, but once on the Sersou it is almost always fine.

The Hauts Plateaux are bitterly cold, but as soon as one has come down on to the Sahara the temperatureis very pleasant, and it rarely rains; when it does, it pours for a few hours and then clears up.

Therefore, the warmest wraps for the journey in the north, English summer clothes (not Indian or tropical) for the south. All evening dresses, etc., can be left in Algiers, as there is never any occasion to dress up, even when invited by an Arab chief. It is advised to travel light, and linen can usually be washed by the Transatlantic hotels in forty-eight hours. The question of hotels brings me to another point.

The hotels of Algeria can be divided into two categories—those which belong to the Transatlantic Company and those which do not. The Compagnie Générale Transatlantique has opened up the whole of North Africa by their circular and inclusive tours which run into the wildest parts of the Sahara. In order to accommodate their customers they have built hotels in all these remote spots, and these are certainly very well organized. In all the more frequented places there are other hotels for the accommodation of commercial travelers and Arabs, and though they are usually quite clean and the food eatable, that is about all that can be said for them. There are usually no bathrooms and there is nowhere to sit except in the public café. Here again let it be said that for the traveler in search of copy the hotel with its Arabs and people of the country is a source of perpetual entertainment, but with few exceptions it is rough—very rough, and sometimes dirty.

The prices, of course, correspond to what one gets, but to the holiday-maker the Transatlantic hotels can not be too highly recommended. Good food, clean beds, running water, hot baths, perfect service, reliable information on all that can be done and not done, seem to warrant the fairly high charge, and yet not highwhen one realizes the difficulties which confront the hotel manager in getting all this modern comfort in the wildest districts.

It is, however, recommended that one see the Transatlantic Company in Algiers to make certain that there will be accommodation as, if they are booked up with heavy tours, their own travelers will naturally have preference over independent tourists.

The cost of the trip, quite roughly, will work out as follows:

1. For the private car owner staying at the Transatlantic hotels, one hundred to one hundred and fifty francs per person per day. Petrol, etc., in addition. If a car is hired it works out at about two to three francs a kilometer plus the board and lodging of the driver, which is about thirty-five francs a day.

2. For the traveler by public conveyance staying at the local hotel fifty francs a day will amply cover his living and expenses.

Train fares are not dear, and the bus fares, though they vary, do not exceed ten centimes a kilometer.

Equipped now with knowledge for the journey, it only remains to trace the itinerary, which will be quite easy to follow on the accompanying map. This information can be supplemented by the guide-book, and in referring to the guide-book I always speak of theGuide Bleuwhich, with the exception of a few slips, is really very reliable.

Itinerary of Proposed Journey

Various alternative trips will be set out in the succeeding chapters where they seem opportune. The distances have been marked in kilometers as the guide-books and maps are all scaled in this way. For the information of those who are interested in miles, however, one hundred kilometers equals sixty-two miles.

For all details regarding routes and motors the traveler is recommended to apply to Captain de Malglaive, at the Anglo-American Automobile Company at Mustapha Supérieur, who is always informed as to the state of the roads, accommodation, etc.

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