Chapter XIII: The Northern Regions of Aïr: Part II

I remained the next day in Iferouan collecting a few specimens of doves, inhabiting the palm trees, which proved to be _Streptopelia turtur hoggara_, a rare and beautiful soft-coloured richly mottled dove which I found in no other locality in Aïr. This was the first and only good find during my northern journey, throughout which birds remained remarkably scarce. I think, after all, birds like the society of mankind; at any rate, desolate, man-forsaken northern Aïr held very few birds indeed in comparison with inhabited districts in the south. Mankind cultivate seed crops, keep herds of cattle, throw out debris, live where water is to be found, and have a score or more habits, each of which unconsciously, in some way, is of benefit to one or other of the feathered tribe.

I did not intend to return to Timia by the route I had come, but to journey south-west to Aguellal, the most western mountain range in Aïr of any importance, and thence cut back eastward by way of the ancient town of Assodé.

Before setting out, an unexpected difficulty cropped up in that, wilfully or truthfully, Homa, the native who had been guide to Iferouan, declared that he did not know the way to Aguellal. I had made my plans quite clear before leaving Timia, and was considerably annoyed to find that I had been misled as to the ability of the guide. I called the goumiers, and asked each one if he knew the country, but received a negative reply from all, which, so far as I could judge, was true, although by this time I knew something of Tuareg shortcomings, and was aware that the whole business might be a ruse to put me off returning by a circuitous and longer route. In any case, I nipped any indecision, which they may have wished to encourage, in the bud, by declaring emphatically that I had a good _Takarda_ (map), and would lead the way to Aguellal, at the same time knowing the men would have to accompany me unless they wished to greatly displease their officer at Agades.

My map showed a track from Iferouan to Aguellal, and the evening before starting I sent the chief goumier and Homa out to search for it west of the village. They came back at dark with the encouraging news that they had found a track out on the stony plain leading westward.

Hence at daybreak on 15th June we set out from Iferouan in the direction of Aguellal. The track soon proved to be very vague, so that I had to refer frequently to map and compass before Aguellal mountain range loomed in sight, a procedure which astonished and impressed the natives, who had for days past been vastly interested in the magic sheet of paper which told me so much about a land which they were aware I had never seen before. From time to time we picked up the old track, usually on stony ground where sand had not drifted, and thus reassured we kept on a true course.

The country between Iferouan and Aguellal is in general aspect plain-like and expansive and very barren. Low rugged hills lie west and south of Iferouan, in country of alternating stretches of light gravel and sand in slight hollows and valleys, and darker gravel and rock on the rounded ridges and higher lands. When more than midway on our journey, we crossed an extensive sandy plain on its western margin, and there the old track was completely obliterated by weather and drifting sand, and I noticed the leading camel-man was following, at times, the small particles of bleached camel-litter of animals that had long ago passed this way—in the end, even those slight signs, that would escape unpractised eyes, were lost.

No trees were seen to-day, except an occasional low weed-like, ill-nourished bush and a few scattered acacias at our night camp, which was chosen in the Aniogaran valley bed (altitude, 2,200 ft.), at which time we were in full view of the northern slopes of rugged Aguellal.

Dr. Barth, on entering the Aïr mountains from the north in 1850, described the approach to Aguellal as “a picturesque wilderness,” where “majestic mountains and detached peaks towered over the landscape.”

Unlike other localities throughout to-day’s journey, there was no sign of recent rainfall, and the land lay terribly parched, and altogether the most drear and barren area we had entered since leaving Timia.

The undulating fairly level type of country was of the type favoured by Dorcas Gazelles, and a number of them were seen to-day, and an animal shot for food.

I am now living principally on buck-meat and dried dates bought in Timia, for my European stores, which I have had to draw on heavily ever since leaving the inhabited regions of Damergou, are almost finished. The articles I miss most of all, and which ran out about a month ago, are sugar and tobacco; especially the latter, which can be a wonderful solace when the palate grows listless on a constant diet of freshly killed meat.

Resuming the journey on the following day, we changed our course westward and then southward, to swing round the north-west spur of the Aguellal range, over very rough foothills, through which an old mountain track led us in toward Aguellal village, which lay hidden round the corner of the spur, until we came suddenly in sight of it at close range.

We camped in Aguellal two hours after setting out. Aguellal village (altitude, 2,100 ft.) is beneath the western slope of the strange dark mountains of the same name—magnificent ranges in rugged contour, and of considerable height— while westward from the deserted village, or rather, villages, for there are four separate groups of dwellings in different localities, stretches a wide sandy valley, with green banks of low bush comprised chiefly of “Abisgee” and acacia. There are no date palms at Aguellal and no old signs of grain cultivation; indeed, I doubt if the barren stony ground would permit of cultivation. So that natives in the past apparently gave their attention entirely to maintaining herds of goats and camels, though, in general, Aguellal mountain has little attractive fertility round its base, and is surrounded by country of more barren appearance than the more central ranges,[10] which have a certain fertility in some of the valleys in their immediate surroundings.

The deserted huts in the villages are stone-built and of reddish colour, and many contained relics of native furniture and utensils, such as wooden stools, mortar bowls, grass mats, grass-made baskets and dishes, and earthenware water-jars. In a number of dwellings jars were found built into the inside walls, and the goumiers informed me that those were customarily used by natives as hiding-places for money.

There is a deep well at Aguellal in the centre of the principal village.

Accompanied by Atagoom and Saidi, I left camp not long after midday, and proceeded to climb into Aguellal mountains, an undertaking which proved to be a strenuous one, and we did not get back to camp until after dark. Mountain climbing in intense heat is not mountain climbing under ideal conditions, and we put in an afternoon of extreme exertion, for Aguellal slopes are very steep, almost cliff-like in their upper reaches, and of a rugged composition which rendered them quite impassable in places. We succeeded, before receding daylight warned us to begin descent, in climbing to a summit which registered 3,100 ft., 1,000 ft. above Aguellal village, which is a very considerable distance away from the actual mountain base. Other peaks were, at that altitude, above us north and south-west, which appeared almost inaccessible without the aid of ropes, and I judged they might have additional height of 600 to 800 ft. (On one map which I possess there is an altitude reading on the east side of the range of 3,609 ft.)

Fresh tracks of wild sheep were numerous in the mountain.

_17th June._—Left Aguellal at daybreak, travelling first south-west to avoid the southern spur of Aguellal, and thereafter swinging round into the south-east with the intention of cutting in to the broad Agoras valley, and thence continuing up the river course to Assodé. The journey to-day was the hardest performed since leaving Timia, being throughout over rocky, irregular lowland, which offered bad foothold for the camels and entailed much variance of direction to avoid impassable rocks and gully channels. Throughout the day there were many individual hills in the landscape. About mid-journey a long time was spent in making our way through the strange pass that is between the large detached hills of Matalgha and Marasset—a much greater time and distance than the map would lead one to expect.

Marasset is prominent, and can be identified a long way off. It has one peak in particular, which rises high above all else and terminates in twin cone-shaped towers.

Beyond Marasset we found a pool of fresh rainwater, which brought forth a general exclamation of pleasure, while halt was made to slack our immediate thirst and fill all our water-skins. Throughout this journey in northern Aïr it has been, excepting on one other occasion, our lot to subsist on the stagnant, foul-tasted waters obtained from old decayed village wells which have not been in use for some years.

We camped about 4 p.m. at a small village named Ebazouera, near to the edge of the expansive Agoras valley; a tiny village containing a few ruins and three standing stone huts. There was no well. Altitude, 2,300 ft.

_18th June._—About two hours after setting out in the early morning we passed out of rocky land and intersected the Agoras river, which was then followed upstream until Assodé was reached about 2 p.m. The river-bed of sand is very wide, with shallow banks almost barren of trees. It was necessary for me to act as guide, as on the previous days; moreover, the natives now had implicit faith in my magic _Takarda_ (map). One might think that doubt should not arise travelling in a wide river-bed, nevertheless it does; broad channels open up in the shores, outlets of other streams join into the Agoras, and more than once the question arises: which shall be followed of two broad ways?—which seem, at their junction, to both lead much in the same direction. However, when nearing Assodé, one or two of the goumiers, and the guide Homa, began to find landmarks with which they were familiar, and I soon learned that I need have no further concern as to our whereabouts, as the way back to Timia was henceforth known to the natives.

I may say that the French map of Aïr, resultant from the Cortier Geographical Mission, which had been kindly given to me at Agades, proved of the utmost service to me throughout my travels in Aïr, and is an excellent and accurate map if one follows it on broadly conceived lines. But one must form conception of proportion very expansively, for the scale (and, perhaps, the extent of geographical data) does not permit the inclusion of the abundant detail which this rugged mountain-land possesses. For instance, the chief mountain ranges and a great many hills and rivers are indicated, but there are hundreds, yea, perhaps, thousands, of individual hills and many streams which are not included on the map.

The village or town of Assodé (altitude, 2,475 ft.) is the largest I came across in Aïr north of Agades. It is strangely situated in a small stony plateau-basin, behind high rocky banks on the north side of the Agoras river, in country more hilly than that which borders the river further west. The basin, wherein lies the village, is completely surrounded with natural ramparts of small hills, and therefore presents the appearance of a place capable of strong defence in time of war. The space within the hills is in places crowded with stone huts, while, where huts do not now stand, the area is a rubbish heap of ruins where dwellings have fallen, and undoubtedly Assodé at one time was a place of considerable importance.

Among the ruins I found the ancient mosque of Assodé, the existence of which is known to every Tuareg in Aïr, and no doubt it holds a prominent place in Mohammedan religious history. The mosque stands, without any notable prominence, except in ground area, on the crown of a rising knoll in the eastern quarter of the village, with the front and tower ruins facing the north-west; possibly so that the main body of the prayer court and devotion cells face eastward toward the rising sun. The mosque is altogether in a sad state of ruin: roofs in places collapsed, lintels and door jambs fallen, and the tower (apparently never built to any great height) but a pile of fallen stones. Roughly, the mosque has a ground area of 135 ft. length and 55 ft. breadth, which longitudinally is divided into two equal sections: an indoor place of prayer and an outdoor place of prayer. The indoor section, which is the eastern half, is made up of five long dark passage-like aisles, varying from 5 ft. to 6 ft. wide, with stone walls, about 2 ft. thick, which are honeycombed with low door openings 4 ft. high, while the ceilings are only 7 ft. to 8 ft. high, constructed with timbers carrying an earth and gravel roof. The outdoor section is simply an open courtyard, surrounded by a stone wall and levelled off a few steps above the ground level outside. On the west of this there is a wing, 21 ft. by 78 ft., on a lower level containing a double row of aisles: possibly a special department for the devotions of priests. I found in the aisles great piles of Mohammedan literature, most beautifully penned, and regretted I could not bear it away with me so that it might be searched for ancient records relating to the history of the land. (Later I informed the French authorities of this literature, and it is possible that an effort will be made to have it brought back and preserved and thoroughly examined.)

There are monastic quarters well apart from the mosque and farther east, and they still have outline which shows that they were more extensive than any of the hut dwellings at present standing, which are small, square, single-room affairs.

All the ancient huts of the age of the mosque are completely in ruins and but piles of building stones, so that one cannot judge the shape which they possessed, but it is highly probable that they were of the same style as those at present standing.

There are no date palms at Assodé, but numerous signs that the inhabitants kept goats and camels.

_19th June._—We left Assodé an hour and a half before daylight, and, on account of the chapter of incidents about to be related, travelled without halt till 5 p.m.

Leaving Assodé, we headed south-east up the Agoras river, until we intersected our outward route to Iferouan at the point where we had camped ten days before at the junction of the Teguednu and Asselar rivers, at which time the large conspicuous mountain named Goundai, which I remarked on when outward bound, was again in view.

It was at this point that tremendous excitement was suddenly aroused among the goumiers in finding fresh tracks of camels in the sand of the river-bed of robbers, who, coming from the north-east, had cut into our outward tracks and had gone southward following them.

High exclamations and intense excitement was rife among the goumiers for some minutes, while rifles were unslung and locks looked to and magazines fully charged, the while the tracks in the sand were being examined and read. There were, the goumiers decided, twelve camels, and their riders were undoubtedly robbers, but they were in considerable doubt as to whether they had come from Tibesti or the Ahaggar mountains, and such signs as they picked up—an end of cord, a small piece of cotton garb, and a few dried dates; articles all eagerly examined—failed to prove conclusively whether the band were Tébu or Hogar natives.

I had intended to camp at Tiggeur for the day, but now decided to rapidly follow the tracks of the robbers in the hope of arriving in time to aid the natives of Timia, if aid were needed. So we hurried on, following the course of a deep ravine; and all the time the tracks in the sand were being keenly read by the excited goumiers. In time, some miles from Timia, we came to where the robbers had happened on a herd of goats tended by a woman. Here it was noted in the sand that they had spurred their camels to rush forward so that they might catch and seize the woman, and signs of struggle were found below an acacia tree, where they had effected her capture. Thereafter they had driven the goats before them along the ravine until a side-branch was reached, and we traced where one man had turned up this on foot and gone off eastward with the captured herd, while the main band had continued in towards Timia, led by the woman they had taken prisoner, and whose sandal-prints could be traced in the sand. (It was presumed that the goats would be driven to some rendezvous where the band would meet later; but this proved wrong conjecture, for it was afterwards found that they had abandoned the goats.) Again, farther on, we traced in the sand where all the robbers had dismounted and advanced stealthily to where some donkeys were grazing; no doubt with the purpose of catching anyone who might be in attendance so that he or she would not escape to give the alarm in Timia. But there was no sign of an additional prisoner having been taken, and the robbers had continued onward, taking the donkeys with them for a short distance, and then had turned them aside up a quiet gulley and left them there.

At last, having left the ravine to ascend over a stony stretch of land and then descend into Timia valley, we came upon the place—just before the river bends toward the village, and in shelter of a jutting hill-spur—where, in the dusk, the robbers had made camp. They had lain beside their camels and reposed, and had apparently partaken of little food beyond dried dates, as they had not dared to light fires. From this camping-place, where they waited the advent of dawn, we traced the naked footprints of two of the robbers who, in the dark, had crept stealthily in to Timia to reconnoitre.

In a few minutes more we were on the outskirts of Timia, which seemed strangely deserted and silent. However, we soon espied a single armed man dodging about in a date grove, and hailed him that we were friends, whereupon he and two others came out to join us, and soon the hurried tale of the adventures of the day was being poured into the ears of my excited goumiers.

To begin with: we were too late! Timia had been attacked and entered, and the robbers had left, heading south, about four hours ago. The disjointed story of the natives pieced together something in this form: The robbers had attacked Timia at dawn to-day, trying to terrorise the place. But the inhabitants had had warning the evening before, brought in by a woman, who had been with the donkeys, which the robbers had come across, and who had fled undetected some little time before the bandits had reached the animals. So that the Timia natives (who were unfortunately without the leadership of their chief Fougda: reputed to be an able man in circumstances of danger) were already secreted among the rocks in the gorge at dawn awaiting the robbers. Also they had wisely sent a man to where their camels were grazing south-west of Timia, with instructions that they were to be driven with all haste on to the Baguezan plateau (an order which events proved was not explicitly obeyed). Therefore, when the robbers advanced, they found the natives waiting for them, and, apparently, regular guerilla warfare ensued which lasted for some hours. It would appear that the Timia natives were foolish, and blazed off their ammunition at ineffective range; for, apparently, they did not hit a single robber, while they completely exhausted their scant supplies of ammunition. On the other hand the robbers were very daring and wily in attack and better marksmen, also they had modern rifles and plenty of ammunition (later I picked up a full clasp—6 rounds— of ·303 Italian ammunition and some empty cases of Turkish ammunition of about ·44 calibre).

About noon the village was completely at the mercy of the robbers, and they entered where they willed. But, be it said to their credit, they made no attempt to wreak vengeance on the people or their dwellings, and they carried off neither quantities of food nor goats nor women. Their sole purpose was to steal camels, and as none were in the village or near by, they forthwith forced the old headman, whom they had captured, to guide them out of the village and take them to where the camels were to be found.

This was as far as their story went. At the time we arrived in Timia the robbers were somewhere to the south, searching for the camels belonging to the natives.

I was in a quandary, for I felt sure the robbers could yet be caught, yet if I led the goumiers against the robbers without real personal cause and failed to rout them, or suffered heavy casualties, I might be asked awkward questions by the French authorities and be asked to leave the country; which would be disastrous to the interests of the expedition. Therefore, after due consideration of my position as a civilian in a foreign land, which barred me from pursuing the enemy with no other purpose than to force a fight, I called the chief goumier and Atagoom, and told them that I was certain that if their captain at Agades knew they were close to robbers, he would expect them to follow them up, while, if they did not, he would be sure to be vastly displeased—this was, I felt, as far as I could go in the matter. And my reasoning bore fruit, for the goumiers agreed to follow the robbers, reinforced by five armed natives of Timia, and though both men and beasts were terribly tired, having travelled since 4.30 in the morning, they set out to follow the tracks of the robbers just as it was growing dusk.

As soon as I had got them away, I sent the half-dozen unarmed men remaining in Timia to look for wounded, and before retiring to rest dressed, as best I could, with warm water and bandages, three bad cases which they brought in: one of whom I did not expect to live.

The old headman wearily returned to Timia at night, leaning heavily on his staff and barely able to walk, for, besides his trying experiences in the hands of the robbers, he was slightly wounded in the chin and right knee. The robbers had released him when they had sighted the camels they sought. He said the robbers were Hogar, and the band comprised twelve camels (as the goumiers had accurately read from the mingled tracks in the sand), fourteen men, and thirteen rifles. (Those robbers sometimes mount two men on one camel.)

_Timia, 20th June._—Spent an uneventful night alone: no further disturbance.

This morning a few natives begin to appear out of hiding and come to my camping-place to express their gladness that I have returned to protect them. (For they have great faith in the powers of any white man.) They are still in a state of panic, and most of the women and children remain hidden among the rocks in the mountain sides afraid to come in, especially as they fear a second band which the robbers declared would follow them in a day or two; a declaration which proved without truth, and circulated by the robbers solely to intimidate the populace and prevent the men of Timia from leaving the neighbourhood to follow them. For my own part I remain camped in the open by the edge of the dry river-bed, in spite of remonstrance from the old headman, who wanted me also to hide in the hills; and before the end of the day my apparent indifference had helped to restore native confidence.

During the day five more wounded were brought in to be attended to, in addition to the three placed in my charge last evening: one of whom had died during the night.

The goumiers returned late to-night, reporting they had not caught up the robbers, who had succeeded in capturing (about midway between Timia and Baguezan plateau) and driving off thirty-two camels. The native guarding the camels, who had unfortunately dallied in executing the order to drive the camels rapidly away into Baguezan, had been caught by the robbers and disrobed of everything he possessed except a leather loincloth.

_21st June._—I now proposed to remain and collect at Timia for some time; therefore, as arranged, I sent off news to Agades of my safe return from northern Aïr, at the same time returning all the goumiers, excepting the two worthies Atagoom and Saidi.

Two of my patients passed away overnight, both with very bad internal wounds. Three have now succumbed to wounds out of the eight brought in. The remainder are all likely to recover.

_22nd June._—Quiet day skinning, and Timia now rapidly returning to a normal state. This morning witnessed the arrival of many of the fugitive population from hiding in the mountains. They came in twos or threes and small parties: some men, with staves and bundles on their shoulders; but mostly women, liberally clad, for warmth at night, in cotton clothing, and carrying rolled-up grass mats upon which they had slept among the rocks. Some of the women also drove in goats before them.

Further information with regard to the robbers was revealed to me to-day by the old headman, who is now recovering from his wounds. It appears that on the way to Timia the robbers came upon and caught one of the “wild” women from Tamgak mountain which we had run across north of Egouloulof, and had questioned her closely as to whom it was who had passed northward and left behind the many camel tracks. She informed them there was a white man and many armed natives, who had gone to Iferouan; whereupon they showed signs of uneasiness, and threw the woman aside, while exclaiming denunciations on our heads, and, among themselves, saying that they must now hasten on their way to Timia, lest we return on their heels or intercept them on their way north.

It is also now known definitely that the robber band were Hogar natives, and came from Janet, a short distance south-west of Ghat, in the territory of the Asger (Asdjer, Azkar), approximately some 500 miles north of Timia, and were led by a famous and much-feared robber chief named Chebickee. The old headman, who, of course, had ample opportunity to see everything while captive, says the band were mounted on exceptionally fine camels, as I and the goumiers had already surmised from the large footprints in the sand.

I remained on in Timia while the wounded recovered and the little village among the mountains gradually settled down to wonted peacefulness.