CHAPTER VIIITHE PEOPLE OF THE VEIL

A FINISHED SALT-BLOCKTHE MOULDSETTING THE SALT IN MOULDS

A FINISHED SALT-BLOCKTHE MOULD

SETTING THE SALT IN MOULDS

“In this way Achinuma, Arrighi, Tiggumama, Gassar, and Chimmidur were founded.

“In time the Tebu grew in strength and gained supremacy over the Beri-Beri, who became subject to them.

“Later on the Tuaregs of Aïr came to Bilma and Fachi, and took them over as colonies, exacting tax, which for a long time was paid to the Sultan of Agades. But the Tuaregs never occupied the country.”

The three oldest towns in Kowar are: Bilma, Dirku, and Gadzebi. Of these Bilma is by far the most important because of its prolific salt-pits.

As a place of outstanding fame in the Sahara it is naturally rich in local history. At various periods the town has occupied three different situations. The site of the oldest town, known to the natives as Balabili, is about a quarter of a mile south of the Bilma of the present. It is a grave ground, with a gruesome history, for it was almost completely annihilated, at a single blow, about 200 years ago, by Arabs who came from Wadai. The story of the tragedy, as told to me by the Chief of Bilma,is that all the inhabitants had gathered to the mosque on a festal occasion of Mohammedan worship, when they were swooped upon and trapped by their remorseless enemies; and a frightful massacre ensued, from which few escaped. The tragic remains of that awful day are still there for all to see, and I have looked with pity and awe on ground that is thickly strewn with the sun-bleached bones of those who perished. Not a dwelling stands on the desolate site; only a corner of the fateful mosque remains, and that is slowly crumbling and vanishing—vanishing to join the dust of those who once worshipped within its walls.

In time another town, locally called Kalala, was established, farther north, beside the salt-pits. Like Fachi, this was built of salt, and the roofless ruins of the old hutments are still standing. The old Chief of Bilma informed me that it was completely abandoned forty-seven years ago, owing to its being constantly attacked by hostile caravans, who looted everything, and even carried off the women and children.

But gradually, notwithstanding the loss from such disturbances, the present town had grown into being, fortified for defence, and possessing a fort; to which the people of Kalala were in the habit of fleeing to take refuge in time of raids. Comprehending, in this way, the greater safety that the new town offered, harassed Kalala was eventually abandoned, and everyone moved to settle in the quarter that is the Bilma of to-day.

MEN OF THE SALT OASIS

That is something of the history of the famous salt oasis. And the past and the present would seem to have resemblance, for the existing town is decaying. It is already half in ruins, and, moreover, has the woebegone appearance of a place that has lost its spirit—the spirit of the wild in wilderness, that fights to live against any odds; the spirit to endure in the most desolate and unknown places of the earth; the spirit that is found in Fachi.

Nevertheless, the far-famed prolific salt-pits of Bilma remain remarkable. Their crowded hills of cast-up salt debris resemble the outworks of a great minehead, and no one knows how long they have been in existence down through the centuries of time. Their antiquity is acknowledged by all.

The area of ground covered by the mounds of the workings is very extensive, but by far the larger number of pits are idle or old, and just an odd one, here and there, is in use.

The salt is secured from wide open bottoms that are of no great depth. It is in large pure crystals ranging from the size of sugar-grains to cubes as large as ¼-inch. When a pit is being worked the bottom of it is flooded with water of a rich dark claret colour, stained by the natron, or native carbonate of sodium[13]that is put in as a chemical that settles and separates the sandy sediment and other foreign matter from the desired crystals.Bare-limbed men, in dirty ragged garb, work in this discoloured water up to their knees, and delve underneath with short-handled hoes to loosen the crystals, which they tread down with their naked feet to cleanse of sediment, before thrusting a shallow scoop below the surface, to bring it up piled with glistening salt. So rich is the deposit that quantity is rapidly secured. The wet salt is at once carried from the pit and mixed, with about an equal portion of dry salt, into a concrete-like consistency which is emptied into pyramid moulds, constructed for the purpose out of palm staves and bound with camel-hide. The whole process entails very little labour, and an abundance of cones of salt is produced with astonishing rapidity and ease.

The caravans that go to Bilma for salt secure it chiefly by barter, trading food and clothing to the value of their purchases. To gauge its actual value in coin, one block or cone of salt, weighing about 35 lbs., is worth two pennies in Bilma; but, when carried away south to Hausaland,[14]it is resold, or rebartered, at an entirely different value. At Tessawa it realises as much as eight shillings, or the equivalent, and at Kano ten shillings.

In considering values, however, the long period spent on the journey to and from Bilma, and the loss of camels through hunger and fatigue, should be reckoned in favour of the man who brings thesalt to the markets of the south, for on that account, when all is said and done, his profits at best are but little; which is all that the best type of native expects or asks.

Tigguida n’Tisem is very different from Bilma, though both are renowned salt centres, and both of a character that would have assuredly made them central figures in the history of the Sahara, had the races who have come and gone through the dark ages of Africa’s existence kept comprehensive records of their country.

This salt centre is not so remote as Bilma, and is easier of access from Hausaland. It lies west of Agades, and north of In-Gall, inblack desertbeyond the mountains of Aïr. Its actual position happens to be in a region wherein tend the main lines of drainage of the rare storm-rains of western Aïr; drainage that, at the present time, seeps eventually into the desert, but that, doubtless, once ran much further on its course, which heads, even to-day, in the direction of the Niger Basin. At Tigguida n’Tisem this watercourse, remarkable because of its size, takes the form of immense flats of clayey soil, resembling the sediment of an estuary, and the salt, which is the mainstay of the town, is located in a low hill in the very centre of this strange arid bottom. Indeed, on account of its position in the watercourse, when rains do happen to occur, which is, perhaps, once a year, or once in three years, according to chance, Tigguida n’Tisem is entirely surrounded by water, and at such timesthe population are in the habit of trekking south to take refuge in In-Gall.

But for the most part the hot sun-smitten land lies ever barren and petrified, while the wind-swept, dust-covered, diminutive town crouches, like the dens of fearful creatures, in a lost land of featureless flatness and terrible desolation. Why anyone should live there at all is beyond comprehension, until one halts at the significant word,Salt!which constitutes the main occupation at present, though early geographers believed the settlement was concerned with copper.

Tigguida n’Tisem is very remarkable for two reasons: the rare race of people who occupy it, and its extremely picturesque salt-pans.

The whole locality is essentially Tuareg, and it is an astonishing fact that the natives of the town are not of that race, nor yet sedentary vassals of Beri-Beri, or Hausa slave caste from the south, who are invariably the workers of the Tuareg camps. They are known asAzawaren, and so completely separate are they in race that their language is unintelligible to the true natives of the region.

They are without written history, but the tribe was referred to by early geographers as a relic of the Sonrhay race, and, if that should come to be indisputably proved,[15]then at Tigguida n’Tisem, in the Sahara, the language of that once great Empire of the Niger still survives.

“FROM THE ROOF-TOPS THEY WATCHED OUR CARAVAN”

There are about four hundred of the tribe within the walls of Tigguida, and they are entirely town people. None frequent the country-side, and they herd neither goats nor sheep.

They believe that the settlement was founded by an old priest of the tribe a very long time ago. They are very pious, and carry no arms whatever, and hence know nothing of warfare, despite their living in a disturbed and dangerous region. Their prayers, and their industrious work at the salt-pans, appear to be their only interests. Seeking for records of their origin, I tried to secure an old weapon or piece of metal-work or embroidery, but failed to find anything that hinted of art in the past or in the present. Undoubtedly their two outstanding characteristics are that they are hard and careful workers, and religious far beyond the ordinary.

On account of the latter trait, and the fact that they never resort to arms, the town is constantly raided, and only a few days before I arrived it was attacked by a band of some thirty robbers who had come from the Ghat-Murzuk region. No fight was made. The inhabitants simply hid in their huts until the raid, and its curse, had passed. Seven or eight people were killed and wounded, and thirty camels raided belonging to a caravan visiting the town for salt.

When I arrived the inhabitants climbed to the hut roofs to scrutinise my caravan’s approach across the low flats, excited and watchful, untilassured that the strange camels carried friends; for the shock of the recent raid was still fresh in their minds. But no other action revealed anything of the late disturbance, and for the most part the people were back at their salt-pans working calmly.

The town of Tigguida n’Tisem is small. The tiny mud huts of the people are closely crowded together for protection from sweeping winds and sand. It is not a walled town, nor, in any way, built for defence. The surroundings are almost entirely uninhabited; vast in extent, and bleak beyond description.

Neither in the buildings of the town nor in the faces of the people is there hint of anything remarkable. The attraction it possesses lies partly in the eerie environment, and in the mystery of unrecorded history, but chiefly in the salt-pits andthe work of the people.

The town is barely fifty yards from the salt workings, which are not only unique but also extremely picturesque. They are made up of a series of very flat, pond-like spaces, connected to one another in an irregular chain by gate-wide necks. By reason of the excavations that have made the areas, they lie between high banks and cuttings of earth. The whole of the pond-like spaces, which constitute the floors of the workings, are on one level, and the amazing fact is that the whole place is one sea of closely crowded toilet-like basins, shaped with clay rims on the top of a level base.They are the brine-pans of Tigguida n’Tisem, where salt is obtained by a natural process of evaporation. And, looked at from the high banks of the workings, they make a very remarkable picture in their network array of countless water-filled or salt-glistening circles, and method of neatness and plan; while graceful figures, busy at work among them, add to the extreme novelty and attractiveness of the scene.

THE SALT-PANS OF TIGGUIDA N’TISEM

These workings are even more unusual and more picturesque than Bilma, and they differ, also, in the fact that a great deal of labour is demanded in obtaining very modest quantities of salt.

The method of obtaining the salt is as follows:

The product is secreted in the soil and sand of the low hill. Well-like pools down in the workings among the salt basins, are the “mixing pots,” where the salt-bearing earth from the hill and water, already brackish, are mixed to make a fluid of strong brine. On close inspection it is found that the bottom of the workings is of solidrock, and the basins are formed thereon, to hold water securely, simply by moulding carefully plastered rims of clay to the circle desired. As each shallow basin dries out, and after the frigid salt sediment, or crust, has been collected, it is scrupulously cleaned with a hand-whisk and refilled with a skin-bucket or two of brine. The basin is then left undisturbed, beneath blue sky and blazing sun, for the day or two required for the water to completely evaporate.

And thus the people of Tigguida labour constantlyin these workings, which provide their sole means of livelihood. Whether puddling clay, carrying water, sweeping out basins, or collecting the salt crust, they are ever busy at one ploy or another; exhibiting a commendable diligence that is foreign to other people of the land.

From the workings the salt is carried to the dwellings in the town, where it is spread out to harden into flat oblong cakes of a size suitable to bale into compact camel loads. The cakes are of palepinkcolour, and on account of this it is easily recognisable when seen south of the Sahara in the bazaars of the markets of West Africa, where it is prized on account of its high quality.

Thus issaltobtained from two remarkable places in the Sahara.

Its romance as currency begins at the very commencement of its existence as a product. Almost everything that the two towns secure from the outside, most of the food, and all of the clothes they require, is purchased by barter for salt.

Sometimes the exchanges are curious—a score of blocks of salt, at Bilma, for an article of adornment, or a lover’s gift; half a dozen blocks for a sheaf of raw tobacco, and a single block for a few sticks of scarce firewood.

At Tigguida n’Tisem all the water in the town is very salt. Hencefresh wateris transported from a distance by donkeys and sold in the streets every day, a handful of raw salt being the purchase price of a half-filled calabash bowl of fresh water.

SETTING OUT THE SALT OF TIGUIDDA TO HARDEN INTO CAKES

From the time of leaving the salt-pits the career of each block, or slab, is one continual round of exchange, until they end in eventual consumption.

Although tribal customs are changing in the Western Sudan, there are still instances of local taxes being paid in salt; and builders and contractors; while raw materials, such as hides, ground-nuts, and other produce desired for export to Europe are often bartered for the same commodity. Nevertheless, it is as a native medium of exchange for little purchases that salt has its chief use as a currency at the present time.

Lastly, the nearest approach to dramatic entertainment that the West African native enjoys is furnished by curious Punch and Judy shows. And in the manner that one pays sixpence or a shilling to gain admittance, say, to a cinema, so the actors, or puppet manipulators, of “Punch and Judy” are often rewarded by small admirers with merely a “pinch ofsalt.”

CHAPTER VIIITHE PEOPLE OF THE VEIL

Theoutstanding inhabitants of the Great Desert are “The People of the Veil”; a term by which the Tuaregs are generally known, and one that is employed by themselves, collectively, in the designationKel-Tagilmus, which in their language has exactly the same meaning. It is they who, in widely scattered tribes of small numbers, dominate the Sahara and the sedentary serfs, they who are pre-eminently a class unto themselves, and they who are responsible for much of the romance that has given to the Sahara a world-wide mystical fame.

To appreciate their remarkable character it should be borne in mind that the Tuaregs are a southern race of Berbers, whose military history goes back through many centuries. Indeed, Berber armies twice invaded Europe: in the time of Hannibal, and when the Moors invaded Spain in 710A.D.Since those early days of history they have ever been a warlike people, and in the unrest of the Riffs to-day, more than half of whom are Berbers, we have an example of the psychology ofrecurrent forces of a dominant characteristic of the race.

This background is a great aid toward grasping and understanding the restless, drifting, veiled nomads of the Sahara to-day, who have to fend for themselves in an insecure wilderness that is sometimes aptly pronounced, “The Land of Dread,” and “The Land of the Sword.”

By the very fact of their ancestral inheritance, the Tuaregs are able clansmen in an appropriate sphere; and the wild fastnesses that make up their environment encourage every trait of feudal fitness to develop rather than recede. So that, when these circumstances are embraced and weighed in the scale of reasoning, it is not altogether surprising to find that they are, beyond all else, past-masters in cunning war-craft; and that there is no Tuareg, over the age of childhood, who is not fully versed in every detail of a subject that is their primary education. Consequently, whatever the conditions under which they are met, the Tuaregs are, in foremost characteristic, a people skilled and able in war, and every man a disciplined soldier when need arises. And though it is a fact that feuds and raids are on a whole growing less violent and numerous in the Sahara to-day, owing to the military activities of the French Administrations of Algiers and the Sudan, and the increasing poverty of the interior, the hereditary quality of the soldier in the Tuaregs is so ineradicable that one is always aware of their true character andinclinations, no matter in what circumstance or environment they are encountered.

THE VEIL

Here is a pen-picture of a far-famed raider of the interior:

“He is a little old man; old in years, but young in activities and spirit. He has not the long, raking swing of the tireless footpad nor the graceful ease of bearing that belongs to the average man of his race. He walks with a short, perky step peculiarly his own.

“All his life has been spent in a camel-saddle, and only there can it be said that he is perfect and complete. Contrary to the standards of drama, his features are neither cruel nor repulsive. His Tuareg veil is worn low, and an open countenance and clear eyes of attractive largeness expand in a delightful smile when he greets you—if you are his friend.

“He is unpretentious; almost ridiculously shy. Yet you are aware that nothing escapes him. He has the eyes of an eagle. To anyone not aware of his calling, he gives the impression of being a fine old man with a kindly soul. Aware of his calling, you feel he has at heart the instinct of a sportsman, and that such instincts assuredly mitigated his wildest acts of lawlessness.

“Riding or walking, a double-edged sword hangs on his left side, and he carries a long shafted spear in his hand. He cannot count how many raids he has taken part in; the number is too great. His biggest success was the capture of three hundred camels and seventy women and children on one raid. His most memorable failure occurred when he had taken two hundred camels and fifty captives and was five days out on the desert onhis homeward journey when counter-attacked in the night by the people he had plundered and completely routed. His band scattered and had terrible difficulty in reaching their mountain stronghold in Aïr. Seven of his comrades were lost and died of exhaustion or thirst—‘Bah! It was not good!’

“These were big raids from fifty to one hundred men. Ordinary raids were composed of from fifteen to twenty men, armed with flint-lock firearms, and each robber was capable of rounding up, and taking care of, three to four camels apiece, when they swooped upon their victims. Captives were taken, in addition, and were sold to buy fresh arms and ammunition. A good, able-bodied male captive realised one hundred silver pieces, of coin the size of a sixpence, and a comely woman four hundred silver pieces, in the markets of Ghat and elsewhere. His days of raiding are over. He wishes he could recall them, and declares the life of adventure was a grand game, where prizes were many, in camels and captives.

“He stays a few days in our camp—then, of an evening, a little dark figure on a camel trails out alone into silent solitude until he is lost from view.

“No man knows the road he travels.”

Another raider, with the ugly scar of a sword-slash on his left side, that sometimes showed in raising the arm, when the loose robes blew aside, told me the following story of his most exciting adventure:

“It occurred about thirty years ago. We had no rifles; only swords and spears. There were ahundred men in our band, all mounted on camels. Some camels carried two men.

A TUAREG WOMAN OF AHAGGAR

“Our camp was hungry, and we set out to plunder whatever chanced our way. We had no news of caravans when we started, and did not know what we might find.

“After crossing a wilderness of desert we came upon a small lot of camels, which we seized without fighting.

“But, by that time, some of the men were tired, discontented, and afraid, and tried to persuade all of us to give up and return to our own country. I would not agree; and, finally, we split; some going home while I led the others on.

“Later we crossed the tracks of a big caravan, and followed to spy on it. The caravan was a rich one. But we were afraid to attack it, for we could see that three of the men carriedflint-lockrifles, and some of them were mounted on horses. It was the rifles we feared, for we knew they could deal death before we could reach our enemy, while we knew the horses would enable them to outpace our camels, and stand off so long as they willed if we attacked in open fight.

“But the temptation was great: and at last I planned that I would creep into their camp on the fringe of dawn while the others lay close on the outskirts.

“Allah was with me. I got in among the horses, undetected, and freed them. Then I set about stampeding the camp while my comrades rushed in upon it to enter in hand-to-hand conflict.

“But one of the men with a rifle got away on a bare-backed horse, and he came near creating a panic among us. However, luckily, most of hisammunition was in his saddle-bag, and we soon discovered he could shoot no more.

“That was the end. It was an Arab caravan and we killed or captured all. There were 200 camels laden with cotton goods, tea, and sugar—a rich prize that long remained the topic of our camp-fires when we returned to our own country.”

Later I met one who knew some of the Arabs who were killed in that raid, which confirmed R———’s story.

Yet another of those strange men that I chanced across in my travels was Saidi Mousa—one of the leaders in the late Kaosen rebellion. He was a young man to be so noted, perhaps forty to forty-five years of age. But he had remarkably keen eyes, and a restless shiftiness that I did not altogether like.

I came on him in an oasis, under very curious guise, for he was trading as an ordinary native, and I induced him to find me some Arab cigarettes. I had little doubt that his presence in the town was with political intent, and that he was largely acting the part of a spy.

Throughout the years such raids have always gone on in the Sahara; while in quite recent times we have the remarkable rising of 1916, mustered and equipped in the Fezzan and led by Kaosen, which involved nearly all the Tuaregs of the Sahara, before their forces were turned on the fringes of the Western Sudan.

But there is one modern change: the rifle issurely replacing the sword in combat. Do not be deceived in this. The sword is a part of the Tuareg’s national dress, and accordingly is ever present. But, though they may deem it wise to conceal their knowledge, and bury any arms they may possess, the Tuaregs have learned the value of the rifle in attack. Yet, unless you happen to be a proved friend, it is odds against them revealing anything of that, for they are ever suspicious of any human presence outside their own camp, even to dreading traitors among their neighbours; while they fear the laws of the white man that endeavour to prevent strength of arms. This attitude of cunning concealment is aptly expressed in one of their proverbs:

“It is wise to kiss the hand that you cannot cut off.”

Although raids are fewer than in the past, it is nevertheless true of to-day that the danger of raids is a fear that everyone must experience in travelling the Sahara; and no one has that dread of unwarned attack more at heart than the Tuaregs themselves. Which is because they are experienced in the craft of their country, and well know the penalty if caught in the violence of an unexpected attack by forces stronger than themselves—and, in my opinion, it is always a force that is overpowering, in numbers or arms, that strikes at quarry comparatively easy of conquest, especially when caught off their guard, which is strategy they are skilled in.

During my travels in the Sahara I happened tobe intimately in touch with three raids. While between In-Azaoua and the Ahaggar Mountains, although blissfully ignorant until afterwards, when the tracks were discovered in the sand, my caravan was followed by raiders from the Fezzan, who sheered off without attacking when we reached the hills and the protection of theEhaggaranTuaregs. It transpired that the robbers had picked up and followed our tracks from the well of In-Azaoua, where we had taken water.

Timia[16]and Tigguida n’Tisem were both attacked and plundered just before I entered them, while Aouderas, when I camped there, was the scene of great excitement and expectancy of attack, when a raid, of which warning was out, attacked and burned Anai.

It is of interest that Timia was attacked whenthe pick of its able-bodied men were awaysouth to Hausaland with their caravans, while Tigguida n’Tisem isentirely a town of religious people who know nothing of fighting, and made no defence whatever when the robbers attacked.

These raiders were fully armed with rifles. At Timia I picked up, on the day following the conflict, some lead-nosed Turkish ammunition and a full clasp of rimless ammunition, marked F.P.C.-08, such as is used in modern Italian rifles.

The most renowned robber chiefs in the Sahara during my travels were Chibikee, Fawna (the fugitive Chief of theKel-Wai), Amud, and Alifa; andeach was a significant name of outlawry that had power to strike dread in the hearts of the bravest. Of these, Chibikee has died (1920), and Alifa, in 1923, had come to be the most notorious character in the land.

A TUAREG MAIDEN OF AÏR; ALMOST WHITE

I have dwelt, to commence with, on this intimate atmosphere in the life of the Tuaregs because it has a powerful influence on the people. Fear of raids, or the doings of raiders, among themselves or of invaders from afar, is the perpetual topic of conversation in camp or with the caravans. All Tuaregs, first and foremost, are consequently ever suspicious of their environment, and this has bred a restless uneasiness that appears to see danger in everything and constant need for stealth and preparedness. This uncertain and harassing state of affairs has had its effect on a war-wise people. The inherited instincts of their Berber forebears remain: there is no growth of cowardice; but the conditions have developed a soldier-native of surpassing cunning and wily intrigue.

It is curious, too, how the nature of environment affects them. They are not all the same. Like wild creatures under the blue sky, they reflect the influences about them. The Tuareg who lives under the cover of the remote mountains of Aïr is wild and comparatively timid. He is often like a hunted creature that dreads to venture forth—he is aware of the strength of the rugged glens and caves, and the protection they offer. On the otherhand, the Tuareg of theErgs, who of necessity lives in open seas of sand, is bold and daring, and, because of the lack of any place of refuge, takes the risk of raids every day of his adventurous life. As a consequence, he is a force to be reckoned with, and I have little doubt that from among such folk come the chief raiding bands of to-day.

Again, take the Tuaregs of the north; of Ahaggar, Ashgur, and the Fezzan, who are all much the same in character. TheEhaggaran, like the Tuaregs of Aïr, are largely a mountain-living people; yet they are decidedly bolder. In my opinion, this is explained in that peoples of the northern regions of the Sahara have ever been nearer to the civilisation of Europe, and the subsequent civilisation of the North African coastal regions. In journeys to the bazaars of such places as In-Salah, Ouargla, and Biskra, they have no doubt learned of the ways of a bold-living world, and have taken some of these teachings to heart. Moreover, they have known the moral support of the rifle longer; while they have the example of the Arabs behind them, not vastly distant, to encourage them in strength of a worldly character.

No doubt it is because of this very same influence of encroaching civilisation that I noted, in the passing, that the northern Tuaregs were not so alert in examining the tracks of strangers, nor yet so expert as camel-men as their neighbours farther in the interior.

Regarding their distribution, one may chanceacross Tuaregs known by such tribal names asEkaskazan,Efararen,Ehaggaran,Kel-Rada,Kel-Geras,Kel-Tedili,Kel-Wai, and many others; but those are simply names that imply the locality they belong to. For instance,Kel-Ferouanmeans “The people of Iferouan.”

TUAREG LADS WHO SHOW TRACES OF NEGROID IMPURITY

A remarkable fact is that the Tuaregs of the Sahara are in widely separated groups, who hold strangely aloof from one another, instead of associating, as might naturally be expected of people of one race and one country. Some of the main tribal centres are: Timbuktu, Kidal, Aïr, Ahaggar, Ashgur, and the Fezzan. All have the same customs and manners, but vary considerably in dialect. There the connection ends, for each group is a power unto itself, and neighbours are looked upon as feudal enemies. They may fight among themselves over intrigues for local power or favoured pastures, but it is with everyone outside that traditional hostility exists.

And it is this state of affairs that has always led to ferment along the highways and byways of the Sahara, and opens the door to brigandage.

The Tuaregs exact homage from their serfs, and from the sedentary peoples of the Saharan Oases, who seldom dream of opposing them. They resemble haughty cavaliers who drift, on occasions, into the society of towns where they are strangers, and conduct themselves as such. They do their business and keep their counsels to themselves, and depart as abruptly as they came. Consequentlythey have few friends, and are, at heart, hated by the townsfolk, who are well aware of their scornful demeanour toward all who work with their hands, which is, to some degree, expressed in a Tuareg proverb:

“Shame enters the family that tills the soil.”

But, to-day, this attitude sometimes recoils upon them. Many of the Tuareg slaves are captives from Hausaland. These are so addressed, and have to be respectful to their masters. But when the Tuareg journeys south, say, to Kano, where he covets cotton gowns and trade, he finds himself completely out of his own sphere, and often treated as so much dirt. His mortification is complete when, in the busy streets, some bold Hausa native openly addresses him asslave, while he is powerless to refute the term, owing to the prejudice of alien surroundings.

But their true province is far removed from towns. Anywhere, where there is scattered grazing and water, one may expect to find the Tuareg nomad of the Sahara, provided that place is remote enough. His home is under the blue sky, and the tiny grass or tent-covered huts of his family are secreted far from the society of other people. Occasionally he may voyage to a trade centre, like a ship seeking a foreign port, to obtain food and clothing and luxuries for his tribe, and glean news of the world beyond his narrow confines; but essentially he is a creature of the wilderness.

Their encampments are usually widely scattered: half a dozen huts where the head of the family islocated, then a few other families, perhaps miles apart. It is the economic necessity to be within reach of grazing for their live-stock that causes this isolated method of camping. Sometimes food is so very scarce that a single family is the sole occupant of a wide area.

These nomadic camps are within reach of water, but, as a general rule, never beside it. That would be dangerous, for water is the calling point of strangers. Camped wide of water, the nomads have a chance to be warned if enemy should arrive in quest to slake their thirst. And this is a fine protective precaution, for the raiders must have water at some place or other during their secretive marches, and forewarning of their presence is often gained in this way; for, even if robbers get in at night to a well-head or water-hole, they cannot cover their tracks in the tell-tale sand.

Wherefore, enhancing the strategic position of people who desire to watch and yet not be seen, the dwarf hutments of the encampments are usually in some concealed place: a hollow, or valley, or hill cleft, under shelter of acacias, if such shade is available. Moreover, these places are chosen, if possible, with an eye to a line of retreat in event of an attack. Proximity to low, bouldered hills is favourite ground, or a string of dry river gullies, or, if nothing better offers, a low hollow among deep, billowed sand-dunes.

Grazing for their camels, and herds of goats, and short-haired, lop-eared sheep, never lasts long inany one place, hence the nomad constantly shifts from one quarter to another. On occasions, owing to scarcity of vegetation, it is necessary to camp far out from water: a day, or a day and a half’s journey from the nearest point of supply. This means long treks to water for the herds, and a journey with camels at least once a week to fetch supplies in goat-skins for the pressing needs of camp. It is not uncommon to come upon one man, and, perhaps, two naked, athletic-looking, boys at a remote well-head in the open, alone on bare, sand-swept desert, with about eight to ten camels, employed on the task of filling goat-skins. Without surprise, they tell that they have eight, twelve, or fifteen hours’ journey before they will get back to their camp. In all likelihood they carry no food, and will not eat till they get home, unless one of the camels should chance to be a female with milk.

The frail, gipsy-like huts of the Tuaregs are usually domed to shape like exaggerated mole-heaps. A dozen slim poles and lighter laths cut from acacias or palm-leaf stems, bent over and laced to form a framework, some grass matting and tanned skins indiscriminately thrown over them, and tied down in rude patchwork disorder, compose their low-crouched, diminutive dwellings wherever they select to pitch them near a chosen patch of grazing. Furnishing consists of a branch-built couch, about 15 inches off the ground. It occupies nearly all the floor space, and upon this the whole family are accustomed to sit or sleep,closely wedged together. In addition, there are a few equally primitive utensils, such as a couple of wooden mortar bowls and pestle-poles for crushing grains and herbs, some broken-edged calabash bowls and earthen jars and goat-skins, for holding food, milk, and water. But there end the main possessions of any nomad’s dwelling. The arms that defend them go abroad with the menfolk, or remain concealed. By their very humbleness these belongings have two qualifications that are commendable: they are easily moved from place to place; they are little to lose if abandoned in the panic of a raid.

A TUAREG HOME

In their desert environment the nomads live in a constant atmosphere of sand, and surely there is nothing with greater discomfiting qualities. The clearings before the doors are sand, loose and trodden by the tread of live-stock and playful children. Wind and feet send it ever moving, outdoors and indoors; and clothes, food, and liquids, no matter how carefully guarded, are contaminated with an in-seeking, almost invisible dustiness. It is sometimes said of a creature that it “lived close to the earth”—the Tuareg lives “close to the sand,”and knows no escape from it.

It is not always realised that strong winds are prevalent in the wide, unsheltered ranges of the Sahara, and that consequently sand-dust is ever in the air. This is particularly so in September in the Southern Sahara, when a steady season of winds, that rise almost to gales every night, sets in,known in the Sudan as:Eskar Kaka, “The winds that dry the harvest.”

Considering the conditions under which they live, and the difficulties of toilet, the Tuaregs are wonderfully clean, far more clean than any gipsies in civilisation, though one must not turn aghast at infant children with fly-covered faces, pestered by house-flies that have an impudence beyond the common in their hungry search for any moisture. Flies are a pestilence in all Tuareg camps, attracted by the live-stock, and by the milk that is gathered from the herds; while, if there should be a ripening date-grove anywhere at hand, they simply swarm in dreadful millions to the sweetening fruit.

In dress, both men and women are accustomed to garb themselves neatly and ornamentally, and vanity is a very pronounced trait in their character. The loose, flowing gowns of the men are particularly appropriate to their easy, swinging, graceful carriage.

The Tuareg women take great care over the arranging of their soft black silken hair, which is set in place in various forms of design. No doubt this is because their hair is considered a feature of beauty by the men; and it is interesting to find primitive people holding to the refined belief that “A woman’s hair is her crowning glory,” while civilised countries go shingled and bobbed. A woman with long hair is looked upon as one who is richly endowed with the good things of nature, and is usually abelleamong the men.

EATING FROM THE ONE DISH WITH CURIOUS WOODEN SPOONS

As a whole they are a healthy race, aided by their constant life in the open air. But they are caught at a disadvantage when any year chances to send them rare bursts of heavy rain, for their frail shelters and belongings are poor protection then. In thin clothing, they are drenched through the day, whether in their huts or out of them, and shiver with cold and damp at night. As a consequence muchTenadee(malaria) follows; which causes a lot of mortality, particularly among the little children, and it is chiefly on this account that large families are seldom seen. It is a great pity that they have no white doctors, and know nothing of quinine. In fighting the fell malady they commonly use only one imperfect herb.

Regarding their food, milk is to the Tuareg what wheat is to civilised countries—the mainstay of the people. Goats’ milk, sheep’s milk, camels’ milk: all are consumed in large quantities. Without milk they would be unable to live in their poverty-ridden surroundings.

But, in addition, though more as luxuries, they eat meat, grain, dates, and herbs, when they can obtain them. If nothing better offers they will search the country-side, and eat such things as the grass seeds ofAfasa, and the flowers and leaves of the tree they callAgar. They are not above eating a camel, if one should happen to die of sickness, provided they have been able to cut its throat as it expired, in accordance with the demands of their religion.

But wheat, guinea corn andGero, a smaller green-coloured millet, are the chief solids of their table. Those they obtain, when they can afford it, by barter, from the sedentary people of oases, or from the granaries of the Western Sudan.

Gerois alone carried on long journeys when water is scarce, since the nomad can eat it without cooking. It is often crushed and mixed in a goat-skin of water and consumed as a sort of mealy drink; which is nourishing, and an antidote to thirst. Guinea corn must be cooked, and is preferred when milk can be added. Wheat is usually rolled, and steamed, and, afterwards, left to simmer in dubious fats that are added. Wheat—Eridin Tamascheq—is grown solely in the oases of the Sahara. I obtained some of the grain, which, as an experiment, was planted in Lincolnshire, England. The result was negative, but curious. Its nature in the Sahara is to grow at an astonishing speed whenever it is planted, provided the soil is kept supplied with water. The moment it felt the heat of the sun in England it leapt up in the same manner as in Africa—far too rapidly; and it browned and died, with unfilled heads, while the English wheat that grew beside it was still undeveloped and green.

A curious antidote to constant diet of milk is tobacco, and most Tuaregs of the wilderness crave it for the purpose of chewing along with natron; particularly the womenfolk, and often have the fair sex, old and young, pestered the life out of mefor some of my precious pipe store, to be mightily pleased with even the smallest of portions.

They are a lean and hungry people in their remote camps, far removed from markets, and not above begging from a stranger, though there is often a pleasant courtesy of exchange in an unexpected rustic present, after a gift has been delivered. It is the loafer, or “ne’er-do-weel”—and the Tuareg tribes harbour these burdens to the community as well as all other countries—who is the shameless rascal in begging alms, particularly if he be somewhat aged. These are the individuals who make a purposeful visit to camp, soon to tell of a dire ailment and ask for medicine; then for sugar; then for tea to go with the sugar; then for millet to eat with the tea—until one has lost all good-nature and patience, and bids him go with disgust.

The White Stranger is, more or less, looked upon as fair game for the beggar, and for the artful salesman. I once had reason to inquire, when near Ideles, if any native remembered Geyr von Schweppenburg, who had made a zoological expedition to Ahaggar in 1914, and one individual recalled the event owing solely to the fact that “The white man gave a woman some needles, and paid 10 francs for a goat.”

As a race, the Tuaregs are grave and haughty, and stand aloof from everyone. Their bearing suggests the inheritance that is claimed for them, for it is fairly well established that they are awhite race akin to some of the oldest European stocks. Some can trace their descent back about 500 years, in the district they reside in to-day; but they have no written records, and all declare that they came originally from Mecca or Medina, which, as they are Moslems, is their general way of expressing that they came from the north, from a land beyond Africa.

I consider them to be of varying castes, when divided by widely separated regions, and am more attracted to the fine physiognomy of the Tuareg of the south, than to the heavier features of many of the Tuaregs of the north. Through mating with captive women or serfs, the blood is not always pure. All true Tuaregs should be fair-skinned; and many of them are almost white. Small feet, delicate hands, refined wrists and ankles, clean-cut facial features further betray their Semitic origin. All have splendid carriage, and they are born athletes. They are superb camel-men, and wonderful travellers, rich in instincts of direction, born to endurance, and used to eating and drinking as little as possible on the trail, when food and water mean life or death. They are seen at their best on the open road. In the camps they have little to do and grow lazy.

In spirit, when by themselves, they are care-free and moderately contented; nevertheless, there is a curious underlying sadness in their character, caught partly, perhaps, from the religion of the Koran, and partly from drear environment where existence,of necessity, is eked out to the lowest ebb of fortune in a land that holds no kindness, and ever threatens the destruction of their race.

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