Chapter III: The Roads Leading to the Oasis

Lines of Communication between the Nile Valley, Kharga, and Dakhla Oasis — Principal Passes out of the Oasis — Ascent to Plateau with Caravans — Main Roads to Assiut, Sohag, Karnak, Esna, and Edfu — Nature of intervening Plateau — Ghubbâri Road to Dakhla — The Upper or Ain Amûr Road — The Railway between the Nile Valley and the Oasis — Nature of Desert Roads — The Bedawin Arabs — Cross-Country Traverses as the Crow flies — Traverse from Farafra to Assiut — Rate of Travelling with Camels.

The oasis of Kharga is in communication with Dakhla to the west, and with the Nile Valley to the east, by a number of caravan routes, the most frequented of which connect directly with the two villages Kharga and Beris, in the north and south of the depression respectively. Formerly, everyone bound for the oasis was compelled to undertake a four or five days’ journey along one or other of these routes, and although nowadays most persons will elect to cross the plateau by train, a description of the oasis would be incomplete without some reference to the desert roads.[2]

The depression is for the most part bounded by steep and lofty escarpments, quite inaccessible to camels, except at a few points where the gradients are less severe, and the loose blocks of rock and other cliff débris have been removed. The principal passes up the eastern scarp of the oasis are seven in number, the most northerly, known as El Ramlia, being in the extreme north-east corner of the depression. Thirteen kilometres south of this is El Yabsa pass. The next is the Refûf, at the head of the gully 45 kilometres north-east of Kharga village. A little farther south, east of the old Roman fort near the foot of Jebel Ghennîma, one of the two prominent outliers of the eastern plateau, is the pass of Abu Sighawâl, and 35 kilometres to the south is the Nagab Bulaq, N.N.E. of the village of Bulaq. In the south end of the oasis there are passes to the north-east of Jaja, and N.N.E. of Dush. These seven passes are the main exits from the depression on the east side, though there are several other little-used routes, up which lightly laden camels can be taken, for instance, near Jebel Um el Ghennaim. The illustration showing the descent to the depression was, in fact, taken at one of the latter.

Although the roads ascend the escarpments at the best available points, in some cases taking advantage of the easier gradients of the extensive cake-like masses of calcareous tufa, which in places have been deposited over the face of the original cliffs, their ascent with heavily laden camels may at times become somewhat of an undertaking. The paths are frequently rough, and the difference in height between the foot of the scarp and the plateau is usually between 200 and 300 metres. The pack-saddles should always be carefully adjusted and secured by ropes passing round the base of the neck or below the butt of the tail, according to whether the caravan is making the ascent or descent; otherwise the loads are likely to slip off, and the restricted limits of a steep path, in the middle of a train of camels, is not an ideal place for their readjustment. In hot weather the ascent to the plateau, though perhaps occupying only one or one and a half hours, will take as much out of the pack-animals as a whole day’s march. I experienced no little trouble on one occasion when returning to the valley after some months’ survey work in Dakhla Oasis. After halting one day at Kharga village, we proceeded on our way to Esna by the Bulaq pass. It was hot weather, towards the end of May, and the ascent of the pass tired our camels, naturally not in the pink of condition, to such an extent that Gorringe and I had some difficulty in getting them across the plateau to the valley. In summer-time it is always advisable to negotiate this part of the journey in the early morning or late in the evening, unless the heavier portion of the baggage can be sent in advance to the top of the scarp, and the animals taken back and watered at the nearest well.

The main roads from the oasis run to Assiut, Kawâmil near Sohag, Waled Hallaf near Girga, Karnak near Farshut, and to Rizagat, Esna, and Edfu, and their disposition may be seen on the accompanying plan.

The Assiut road, after leaving Kharga village, passes the hamlet of Meheriq and follows the line of wells to Ain el Ghazâl, which is the last place at which water-skins and tanks can be filled. From Ain el Ghazâl the most direct route ascends to the plateau by the Ramlia pass in the extreme corner of the depression, but the Yabsa exit is recommended as easier and very little longer. After crossing a tract of country with an abominably rough surface, the two tracks unite a few kilometres north of the depression, and about a day’s march farther on the Zarâbi road takes off on the right. The main road proceeds direct to Assiut, descending the scarp about 8 kilometres before the town is reached, a by-path to the little village of Dronka having branched off beforehand.

From the summit of El Yabsa a separate road proceeds direct to El Ghennaim, a village on the edge of the desert to the north-west of Tahta. By these roads the distances from Kharga village to Assiut, Zarâbi, and El Ghennaim, are 210, 200, and 180 kilometres respectively.

El Refûf, the pass by which the Sohag (Kawâmil) road leaves the depression, is situated at the head of a gully, and offers an easy ascent to the plateau. A few kilometres beyond, the road passes to the north of El Shugera, a prominent detached block perched on end at the foot of the southern slope of a small limestone range. The road runs in a fairly steady direction 40 degrees north of east, striking the Nile Valley scarp 15 kilometres before Kawâmil, on the edge of the cultivated lands, is reached. About 33 kilometres before reaching the scarp a branch takes off and runs nearly due north to Guhêna, south of Tahta; this branch is, in fact, usually referred to as the Tahta road.

If the traveller, after leaving the Refûf pass, keeps to the south of El Shugera, he will find a branch road leading to El Tundaba, a deep shaft in the centre of the plateau, at kilometre No. 92 on the railway; a little farther east this track strikes the main road from the Abu Sighawâl pass. The shaft is sunk through a thick deposit of silt, which has filled a local depression in the plateau to some depth. The silt must be regarded as rain-wash from the surrounding country, possibly deposited in the time of prehistoric man. Flint implements are to be found scattered about, and from the presence of pottery and graves it would seem that the place had been inhabited in comparatively modern times. The pit was evidently sunk for water, although at the present time it is quite dry; given, however, a heavy thunderstorm within the catchment-basin, drainage-water would in all probability find its way to the bottom of the deposit, where it would be held up by the limestone, and might form a supply lasting possibly for many years.

The road leaving the depression by the Abu Sighawâl pass, and leading to villages in the neighbourhood of Girga and Farshut, is reckoned the best and shortest route between Kharga and the Nile Valley, and, by making a very short détour, caravans have the advantage of being able to water at the old Roman fort at the base of Jebel Ghennîma, 27 kilometres after leaving the village. The ascent of the pass was formerly very rough going, but a good road with an easy gradient has recently been cut for the transport of heavy boring machinery into the oasis. From the top of the Abu Sighawâl pass a well-marked track crosses to El Refûf and connects with the Sohag road, and care has to be taken by travellers for Waled Hallaf, El Elwania and Karnak not to make the initial mistake of getting on to this track.

For the first few kilometres the main road from Abu Sighawâl runs very straight over a level plain, on which fossil sea-urchins are so abundant as to attract the attention of the most casual observer; it then ascends a low escarpment, the Nagab el Jellab. The somewhat rough limestone country beyond is known as the Mishâbit, and then El Botîkh, with its countless millions of spherical chert concretions, is crossed. Beyond El Botîkh the road passes an isolated limestone hill called El Mograbi, where tradition has it that a Mograbi Arab from the west and his stolen oasis bride were overtaken and decapitated by the Kharga people. A little farther to the east there is a bifurcation, but the branches soon rejoin, and after passing El Masaâd the plain is fairly level, though covered with very angular blocks of crystalline limestone and cherty concretions. Farther on are the rocks of El Buraig, where large quantities of broken pottery indicate the site of one of the many water-stations maintained by the Romans along this road. Garat el Melh is so called from the occurrence of salt in the limestones of this locality. A few kilometres to the east of Garat el Melh the road passes El Suâga, an artificial heap of stones to which every self-respecting Bedawi is careful to contribute; and a couple of hours beyond, a fairly conspicuous limestone hill, called Garat Radwan, is reached.

Shortly after passing Garat Radwan the most prominent landmarks met with on this road, in the form of two solitary crescent-shape sand-dunes, loom into sight; these are called El Ghart by the Arabs and are distant 55 kilometres from Abu Sighawâl. They form part of a belt of single isolated dunes which crosses this part of the desert in a N.N.W. and S.S.E. direction. The same line of dunes is passed by the railway at kilometre No. 100, and I have observed its continuation still farther north on the Sohag road, at a point 45 kilometres from the Refûf pass. These dunes mark the entrance to an area of very rough hummocky crystalline limestone known as El Zizagat, through which the track is not easily followed. On emerging from El Zizagat the road bears slightly to the north, and is here only a few kilometres south of El Tundaba. At this point it bifurcates, the northern branch proceeding direct to Waled Hallaf near Girga, the southern continuing over the easy level plains of El Ishab to the rocks of El Baglûli, and thence past those of Dilail el Kelb to the twin hillocks of Dubîya. Beyond El Dubîya the road crosses the shallow drainage-line of Rod el Ghanam, near the head of the Wadi Samhûd, down which it passes, and thence over the Nile Valley plains past El Hamera and Hagar Hawara to Karnak and Farshut.

It should be mentioned that at Rod el Ghanam, shortly before reaching the head of the Wadi Samhûd, a branch road takes off on the left-hand side and descends by a separate pass to El Elwania; and here again care has to be exercised to avoid taking the wrong branch, as the tracks cover a broad area, and the actual junction may be easily missed.

The Kharga-Waled Hallaf road, via the Abu Sighawâl pass, is the shortest route from the oasis to the Nile Valley, the distance being only 160 kilometres; that to Karnak, by the Wadi Samhûd, is somewhat longer, being approximately 174 kilometres.

The next pass of importance to the south lies east of the village of Bulaq, whence it takes its name. From the summit a road runs nearly due east, meeting a second, starting from Beris and gaining the plateau by the Jaja pass, after one and a half days’ march. From the cross-roads, ‘El Mafâriq,’ routes run direct to Farshut and Rizagat. From Beris to Farshut, by the Jaja pass, the distance is approximately 224 kilometres; from Kharga, by the Bulaq pass, the roads to Farshut and Rizagat measure about 203 and 198 kilometres respectively. Another road from Beris leaves the depression by a pass to the east of the village of Dush; this bifurcates about two days’ march from the latter, the left-hand track leading to Esna, the right to Edfu. Other roads lead from the south end of the oasis, via Nakhail, to Kurkur and Dungun, while the Derb el Arbaîn runs southwards to Selîma and thence on to the Sudan.

The road between the oasis and Assiut is best known as being the last and worst portion of the Derb el Arbaîn, or forty days’ road, which, starting from Darfur, was originally one of the main lines of communication between Egypt and the Sudan. It was along this desert route that great numbers of slaves and large quantities of merchandise, such as ivory, gum, and other products of the Sudan, were imported into Egypt from the south. After passing the last spring in the oasis, caravans had still a little over 200 kilometres to cover before reaching the Nile Valley, with a steep ascent to the plateau at the outset, and thence for a considerable distance over the very worst surface imaginable—loose sand full of sharp angular blocks and fragments of flint and cherty limestone. Little wonder that, overladen and fatigued by the long distance already covered, the camels died in great numbers on this last stretch of road. Along most desert routes the dried bones of camels are of fairly frequent occurrence, but on the Derb el Arbaîn, between Kharga and Assiut, the skeletons of these poor beasts are met with in groups of tens and twenties, and must number hundreds and thousands. In many instances the skeleton still lies undisturbed, in the position assumed by the luckless animal in its death agony, the long neck curved back by muscular contraction so that the skull lies in contact with the spine. When one sees these remains, half buried in the sand, the bones bleached snow-white by a pitiless sun, with still adhering fragments of skin and muscle dried hard as adamant, one cannot but feel pity for those patient ‘ships of the desert,’ wrecked almost within sight of port.

Cailliaud, in 1817, observed the arrival at Assiut of a large caravan from Darfur, consisting of 16,000 individuals. It included 6,000 slaves—men, women, and children. He remarks: “They had been two months travelling in the deserts, in the most intense heat of the year; meagre, exhausted, and the aspect of death on their countenances, the spectacle strongly excited compassion.”

The actual width of the plateau varies from 120 kilometres between Abu Sighawâl and the scarp above Waled Hallaf, to 200 kilometres between Beris and Esna. The maximum elevation above sea-level is about 550 metres on the latitude of Esna, and on the whole the plateau has a fairly general slope to the north. As already mentioned, several distinct types of country, depending on the nature of the rocks constituting the surface strata, are met with. Smooth, hard, level plains, formed of a superficial layer of weathered limestone covered by a brown veneer of insoluble flint and cherty fragments, alternate with bare rugged rock desert of hummocky limestone. The sombre level or gently undulating flint-covered plains, frequently spoken of as ‘serir’ by the Arabs, have ideal surfaces for travelling; the light-coloured hummocky country, often called ‘kharafish,’ is in its most developed form made up of innumerable elongated hillocks, every portion of the exposed rock-surfaces being deeply scored; the furrows are separated by upstanding edges, often so sharp and knife-like as to be capable of injuring the feet of man and beast. The hillocks are separated by deep troughs half buried in drift-sand, all lying parallel, in the direction of the prevailing winds, so that progress in a latitudinal direction through this type of desert is a slow and tedious undertaking. Both types of country are equally desolate and barren, scrub of any description being of the rarest occurrence, except after local thunderstorms. Another type of country, to which we have already briefly alluded, is the curious desert-surface called El Botîkh (the water-melons), which results from the weathering of certain bands of the Lower Eocene formation containing numbers of large globular concretions; these, it may be mentioned, often lie so thickly strewn on the surface as to actually obstruct the passing caravan.

Kharga is connected with the oasis of Dakhla to the west by two roads, the lower and more southerly, known as the Derb el Ghubbâri, being the one most frequently used. This road, by taking a wide sweep to the south, avoids the intervening plateau altogether, so that the fatiguing ascent and descent are avoided. After leaving Kharga village the route leads past a group of wells, known as Ain Khenâfish, distant some 6 kilometres; thence it lies over wide-stretching plains of sandstone, leading up to the more broken country formed by the foot-hills of the towering plateau, which is always plainly visible on the north side of the road. The distance to Tenîda, the most easterly of the Dakhla villages, is 143 kilometres by the Derb el Ghubbâri.

The alternative route by way of Ain Amûr is appreciably shorter, though, owing to the extra time involved in negotiating the steep passes to and from the plateau, there is little saving in time when travelling with a heavily-laden caravan. Compared with the lower road, however, this route is much more interesting and picturesque, and the presence of water at Ain Amûr, about half-way between the two oases, is a distinct advantage. The road from Kharga village lies over a broad plain, whose only features are occasional conical hills of dark ferruginous sandstone. It follows a W.N.W. direction, heading for the great indentation to the west of the Jebel Tarif range. After getting well into the recess, but when still some 15 kilometres from its head, the road turns abruptly to the south, and winds its way up an escarpment littered with huge blocks of tufaceous limestone. Perched near the summit of the cliffs stands the solitary palm which marks the site of the water-hole, in the immediate neighbourhood of which grows a fair amount of prickly scrub. The remains of mud-brick buildings and a stone temple show that this place was formerly inhabited, and of some importance.

The ascent to the plateau from Ain Amûr needs care with laden camels. The road proceeds up a narrow defile, the actual track being very rough, and so confined that in places the packs are liable to be dragged off by the rocks on either side. Once on the plateau the going becomes first rate, the freedom of the surface from blown sand being very noticeable. This is due to the isolation of this portion of the plateau-massif, which is cut off from the main mass to the north by the deep recess, and is bounded by a low-lying plain to the south. After a distance of 33 kilometres has been traversed the road descends into a narrow valley opening on to the low country to the south, and proceeds in a westerly direction to Tenîda. The distance from Kharga to Tenîda by this route is 128 kilometres.

It is possible on leaving Ain Amûr to cross to the top of the indentation, and thence to proceed across the plateau almost due west, striking the road from Assiut, known as the Derb el Tawîl, at the top of the pass 25 kilometres from the village of Belat. There is, however, no track, and the surface is covered with parallel north and south ridges of rock, the crossing of which is extremely wearisome. Both near the head of the Ain Amûr recess and in the extreme north-west corner of the oasis very old tracks trending in westerly and northwesterly directions are observable, and although unused at the present day, these may mark the positions of formerly frequented routes leading to the oasis of Farafra. At the present time that oasis is not in direct communication with Kharga, the routes used being from Manfalut in the Nile Valley, from Qasr Dakhl in the oasis of Dakhla, and from Ain el Hais in Baharia.

Before leaving the subject of roads we must briefly refer to the route taken by the railway. The line, which has a gauge of 75 centimetres, was built by the Corporation of Western Egypt, Limited, to develop their concessions in the oasis. It commences at Mouaslet el Kharga, a new station on the Egyptian State Railway near Farshut, and crosses to the border of the desert, a few kilometres distant, by way of one of the embankments separating two of the great irrigation basins of Upper Egypt. At the edge of the desert is the station of El Qara, the point of departure for the oasis. After skirting the margin of the Nile Valley cultivation for a short distance it heads straight for the Wadi Samhûd, by means of which the plateau is gained without encountering any very heavy gradients. From the top of the Wadi Samhûd the line follows the Abu Sighawâl road for about 40 kilometres, after which it diverges a few degrees and proceeds to El Tundaba, the shaft already described, 92 kilometres from Mouaslet el Kharga. From El Tundaba the railway follows more or less closely the cross-track, sometimes called the Derb el Refûf, which joins the Sohag road at El Shugera, and, entering the depression by the Refûf pass, follows down the gully, and thence across the plain to the station of Meheriq. From Meheriq it proceeds nearly due south to the Corporation’s headquarters, and thence on to its present terminus a few kilometres from Kharga village.

My friend Ball lays great stress on the tortuous nature of the roads between the oasis and the valley, and recommends the scientific traveller to steer an independent course. But after traversing the majority of the main caravan roads, and with a fairly intimate knowledge of the characters of the intervening areas, I must say that, in my opinion, it would be difficult to better them. These roads were not laid out yesterday, but result from the accumulated experience of centuries. The original tracks may have been tortuous enough, but they have become straightened out by the cutting off of corners here and there, until at the present day the roads fulfil the three most important objects in view—the ascent and descent to and from the plateau at the points offering the easiest gradients, and the crossing of the plateau itself as directly as possible over the smoothest and most level ground available. The roads give a wide berth to the outcrops of rough limestone, and anyone who has done much cross-country travelling in the Libyan Desert will appreciate their doing so.

Nor can I concur with the same author in his opinion that the Bedawin of this side of the Nile have a poor knowledge of their beloved desert. It is certainly true that the Arab does, for very good reasons, prefer to travel on the beaten tracks rather than undertake exploratory missions as the crow flies, his main object being to get to his destination as rapidly and easily as possible. If by chance, however, rain should fall on any portion of the desert, the Arab will very shortly be found there, taking full advantage of what Allah has provided in the way of free grazing for his herds. My own experience has been that the Arabs have among them a fair proportion of men with an extensive knowledge of the western desert, and I have frequently been struck by their wonderful knowledge of the roads and the facility with which many of them can follow the tracks on the blackest of nights, as even in broad daylight the landmarks which a European could recognize on second acquaintance are few and far between. The average Bedawi cannot be said to have exceptionally long sight, but he is frequently possessed of a wonderful sense of direction.

Travellers in the Egyptian deserts are apt to underrate the intelligence of the Bedawin, owing to the fact that they unconsciously form their impressions from the miserable specimens of humanity so frequently sent out by the actual owners of the camels to act as drivers and attendants to a hired caravan. In such caravans there is seldom more than one man who knows the particular roads to be followed; the rest are wretched underfed creatures, generally half-breeds, who for a mere pittance tramp day after day, uncomplainingly and shoeless, alongside the caravan. They are much to be pitied, and it would be as unreasonable to expect them to have any special knowledge of the desert as it would be to look for information regarding, say, the mountains of Wales among the poorer classes of a Welsh town.

I do not wish to minimize the value of cross-country traverses carried out with special scientific objects; they are, indeed, often necessary for topographical and geological purposes. I would, however, warn the enthusiastic tyro that, in the Libyan Desert, travelling as the crow flies is not always so simple and glorious an affair as it may seem when planning expeditions from a comfortable arm-chair; and if his object is to get a short cut he will probably have reason to bitterly regret the moment he left the beaten track. I have in mind more than one instance where mistakes of this kind have been made, mistakes which might easily have led to disastrous consequences. In long cross-country traverses an error in steering of only two or three degrees will in a few marches throw a caravan many kilometres out of its course, and guiding camels over rough country by compass is by no means an easy undertaking. Moreover, easily distinguishable landmarks are rare, and the desert plains over wide areas maintain remarkably persistent characteristics. Quite recently I recollect an Englishman, whose Arab attendant had become suddenly incapacitated by an attack of fever or sunstroke, getting hopelessly astray between the edge of the plateau overlooking the oasis and rail-head, which was then only 20 or 30 kilometres distant, in consequence of his missing the bifurcation of the road at El Shugera, and proceeding, owing to this mistake, along the route leading to Sohag.

Along the caravan roads the sharp fragments of rock have been stamped underground or kicked to one side, but elsewhere they usually litter the surface, and are very trying to camels, whose pads, though soft and yielding, are easily worn by much travelling over rough country. This has more than once been painfully impressed upon me by the antics of my own riding camel, whose mode of progression at such times resembled more the dance of a fanatic on red-hot coals than the ordinary gait of a well-bred ‘hegîn.’ Over some areas, however, one can travel in a straight line without let or hindrance, and in such cases it is only necessary to lay out the course correctly in the first instance, and to have the courage of one’s opinion to stick to that course until the destination is reached. One must not heed the remonstrances of the less sporting members of the expedition, who will lose no opportunity of predicting disaster, and in this respect the new chum fresh out from home is generally the greatest offender.

One of the longest cross-country traverses I myself have undertaken in the Libyan Desert was from Farafra Oasis to Assiut. The only road between that oasis and the Nile Valley strikes the latter near El Qusîya, midway between the towns Manfalut and Derut, so that travellers who wish to make Assiut have an additional day’s march southwards alongside the margin of the cultivated lands. On gaining the summit of the pass above Bir Murr, on the east side of the Farafra depression, I abandoned the road and set a course direct for Assiut, steering and plotting my route by compass and plane-table, the distance being reckoned by measuring-wheel. The most satisfactory method of procedure on desert traverses is to lay out a line, representing the correct bearing of the destination, along the centre of the longer axis of the plane-table, and then to steer to any well-marked object lying on either side, but within reasonable distance, of the proper course. At every station the exact position reached is plotted, and steps are taken, when selecting the next point on which to march, to converge towards the correct course marked down the centre of the table.

On this particular traverse I was unaccompanied by Europeans or Bedawin, my camel drivers being fellahin from the Nile Valley. The surface proved excellent going, and the Abu Mohariq belt of dunes, 190 kilometres from Qasr Farafra, was crossed without trouble. Eight days after leaving Farafra village we struck the escarpment of the Nile Valley, having covered nearly 300 kilometres, and found we were marching on a point only very little to one side of the town of Assiut. From this traverse it was possible to calculate the longitude of Farafra with fair accuracy.

The normal rate of travelling of camels carrying ordinary loads weighing from three to four hundred-weight is 4 kilometres, or about 2½ miles, an hour, ten hours being the usual day’s march of caravans when accompanied by Europeans. The native caravans, carrying dates and other heavy merchandise, usually traverse the plateau in three days and nights, doing stages of 60 to 70 kilometres at a stretch. By travelling very light with trotting camels I have, on more than one occasion, crossed from the oasis to the valley in between thirty and thirty-five hours, doing from 180 to 190 kilometres in two stages of about twelve hours each, with one stop only of nine or ten hours.