Chapter XXVII: Natural History

THE intense heat and dryness, with the resulting great evaporation, combined with the almost total absence of rain, and the cutting action of the sand, when driven by the furious desert gales, makes the existence of vegetation in the desert almost an impossibility.

Still here and there a few blades of grass, or even a green bush or two, are to be met with, though one may travel for several days’ journey in any direction from them before any other growing plants are to be seen.

The plants that grow in the desert are all especially adapted by nature to withstand the heat and drought. The stems of the bushes have a dense outer covering to prevent evaporation. Their leaves are small and leathery for the same reason. But their chief peculiarity is perhaps the extraordinary development of their roots, which stretch for enormous distances in search of water.

Some of the wild plants I collected in Dakhla Oasis were found growing on very saline ground—in a few cases the soil around them being white, with the salt lying on the surface. The date palm seems to have been specially designed by nature to flourish under desert conditions. A palm will grow in soils containing as much as four per cent of salt, providing its roots can reach a stratum containing less than one per cent, and, if it can find a layer with a half per cent of salt only, it is capable of yielding an abundant crop.

The animals in the oasis are no less interesting than the plants.

The nights in Dakhla—especially at Rashida and Mut—are made hideous by the dismal howling of the jackals. The dog tribe in the oasis are probably unusually interesting. I collected a number of skins, but, when I went off into the desert, was unable to take them with me, and had to leave them behind in a half-cured state in Mut. Insects swarm in the hot weather, with the result that, by the time I returned from my various desert trips, I invariably found that they had got at my skins to such an extent as to render them worthless to any museum.

One jackal skin that I managed to bring in in a fair state, and gave to the Natural History Museum in Kensington, was most kindly identified for me by Mr. Martin A. C. Hinton as being identical with the large Egyptian jackal, or “wolf,” _canis lupaster_. All the jackals of Dakhla are of an unusually large size, and are locally called wolves. I was told that they breed freely with the village dogs. In addition to the jackals, foxes are extremely numerous, some being apparently identical with the common greyish fox of the Nile Valley.

There are probably some species of the dog tribe in the oasis which are new. One evening near Mut I happened to be returning to the town about sunset, and noticed a fox that struck me as being of an unusual appearance. Shortly after I first saw him, he went to the far side of a low mound of earth; I was consequently able to approach him unseen, and managed to get within about ten yards of him before attracting his attention. He then bolted; but not before I had had a good view of him.

He was a fairly large fox of a greyish brown colour, and carried a very fine brush. But his most striking peculiarity was that he was covered with large black spots, which appeared to be about an inch and a half in diameter. On questioning the inhabitants, I found that a spotted fox was occasionally seen in the oasis, but was not apparently very common. Markings of this nature are, I believe, quite unknown in any fox, so that this one probably was of unusual interest. Unfortunately, I was unable to secure a specimen.

In addition to the jackals and foxes, an occasional hyena is said to appear in the oasis, but none, so far as I heard, were seen while I was there.

A curious fact in relation to the jackals in Dakhla is that they appear to be to a great extent vegetarians, living largely upon the fallen fruit in the plantations—a fact which recalls the story of the fox and the grapes.

Gazelles used to be fairly numerous in the scrub-covered areas in and around the oases, but I invariably found them extremely shy and difficult to approach. Once, in the distance, I caught sight of a pair that looked interesting. One of them had an extremely pale coat, and was perhaps a _rim_ (Loder’s gazelle); but the other was of a deep reddish—almost chestnut—colour that, from a distance, looked unlike any known variety. The usual gazelle found in these parts is the common Dorcas; but these two looked entirely different. The natives do not seem to distinguish between the various varieties, all of which bear a strong resemblance to each other, classing them altogether as “gazelle.”

Scorpions swarm in the older buildings of the town, and the natives get frequently stung, sometimes, I was told, with fatal effect. The leaves of a round-leaved plant known as _khobbayza_[17] are pounded and made into a poultice to apply to their stings—it is said with considerable effect. A native quack doctor from the Nile Valley used to do a considerable trade in little blackish wafers of a composition that he kept secret, which were also said to be very beneficial not only against the stings of scorpions but also in the case of snake bites. One of the native doctors I met in Mut tried them on some of his patients with, he told me, great success. Very large, hairy, yellow spiders, tarantulas perhaps, I saw once or twice, and found the natives very much afraid of them.

In the Nile Valley, curious mud-built tables supported on a single thick leg are used on which to place young children to secure them from the attacks of scorpions and tarantulas that, owing to the overhang of the table, are unable to climb to the top. The table-top itself is surrounded by a low wall to prevent the children from falling off, the crest of the wall itself being often fantastically decorated.

I never came across any snakes at Dakhla, but more than once saw the skin they had shed. There is said to be a long black snake, generally found in or near the water channels, whose bite is considered to be extremely dangerous. The ordinary horned cerastes viper, though often met with in the desert, seems to be rare in the oasis—and the same may be said of the unhorned viper that so much resembles it at first sight. Insects swarm during the hot weather in the oases. Butterflies are scarce, but moths are fairly numerous. In Kharga I caught the cotton moth, but I did not see it in Dakhla. Locusts are almost, I believe, unknown, but the grasshopper tribe are in some parts—Tenida for instance—extremely numerous.

Bristle tails (silver fish) were unpleasantly destructive, and boring bees do much damage by perforating the palm-trunk joists and rafters of the houses and rendering them unsafe. House flies were quite common enough to be a nuisance, though not to the extent usually found in the Nile Valley. Mosquitoes were present in only small numbers in Mut, owing probably to the scarcity of water in the neighbourhood.

Dragon flies were conspicuously numerous—a dark red, a greenish variety and a beautiful steely blue kind being, so far as I saw, the most common.

In the spring there is a large immigration of birds into the oasis, coming up from the south-west. Sand grouse—both a pintailed and a spotted variety—are to be met with on the outskirts of the oasis and in the parts of it remote from the villages. Quail, duck, snipe and various water birds abound in the oasis at certain seasons. Kites I never saw or heard, but eagles were several times seen. Also a bird of the hawk species. Ravens exist in small numbers.

Pigeons are fairly well represented, a large wild pigeon—the blue rock apparently, which lives largely in the cliffs surrounding the oasis—being common. These at times give very good sport; in the open they are far too wary to be approached within gun-shot. But in the evening they come down to the wells to drink, usually choosing one that is removed some distance from the villages.

But these pigeons proved to be very poor eating, their flesh being hard and dry, and not to be compared with sand grouse for the pot.

The sand grouse, too, were singularly hard to bag. The only place where I ever succeeded in shooting any was on the Gubary road between Dakhla and Kharga Oases. I found them fairly numerous there, being generally to be seen in the early morning at the places where the _bedawin_ camped for the night. As the day grew older they left the road altogether and flew off into the desert.

The birds that interested me most in the oases were the _kimri_, or palm doves. There are at least two kinds in Dakhla, the _kimri beladi_, or local palm dove, and the _kimri sifi_, or summer dove. The former seems to be resident in Dakhla all the year round; but the latter are migrants, coming into the oasis in March and returning in the autumn after the date harvest. They take somewhat the place in Dakhla that the cuckoo does in England, their advent being regarded as a sign that the winter is past and the summer close at hand. The palm groves of the oasis, when the hot weather comes on, swarm with these pretty little birds, whose soft cooing as they sit swaying in the palm tops is a most melodious sound—extremely pleasant and soothing after a long hot desert journey.

The whole question of the animal and vegetable life in these desolate regions is one of great interest. In spite of the intensely arid nature of these deserts, they support in some marvellous way a considerable amount of life.

Small lizards were often to be seen in the desert scuttling about the ground. They run with extraordinary speed, and are very difficult to catch. The usual way, I believe, is to throw a handkerchief on the ground and to drive the lizard towards it, when it will frequently run under the handkerchief to shelter, and can then be easily picked up. I found that, though they could run very fast for a short distance, they very soon tired, and, if steadily followed up for a hundred yards, without allowing them time to rest, they became so exhausted that they could be easily secured.

I never saw a specimen of the _waran_, or large lizard, in the desert, but on one occasion saw what looked like its track. It resembled the trail of a large-bodied lizard crawling slowly over the sand. My men, however, declared it to be the track of an _issulla_, which they described as a creature between a snake and a lizard in shape, which, when approached, will fly at an intruder, rising into the air after a rapid run on membraneous wings stretched between its legs—acting apparently somewhat like an aeroplane. They said its bite was poisonous, and generally fatal, but that, if it failed to strike home during its flight, it fell on the ground and burst! The existence of such a reptile—if we exclude the bursting part of the story—is perhaps not absolutely impossible. One has to take native statements of this kind with more than the usual amount of salt; but it does not do to ignore them entirely.

Its track corresponded well with the description of the reptile given me by my men, for, outside the marks where its feet had been placed, something had clearly been dragged along the sand, leaving a trace that showed upon its surface as a scratch. What that “something” was it is difficult to say—unless, as my men declared, it was part of the membrane upon which the _issulla_ is said to sail through the air. It could not have been caused by its tail, as it appeared in places upon both sides of the track at once.

With regard to the capacity it is said to have of being able to rise into the air from the ground, that, I think, presents but little difficulty. I gathered from my men’s account that it would have been nearly three feet long. The small fast-running lizards previously mentioned are mostly under six inches in length, and must be able to travel at nearly ten miles an hour, as it takes a man on foot all his time to catch them up. As the _issulla_ must be five times the length of these little lizards, it is not unreasonable to assume that it can run quite twice as fast, or say at twenty miles an hour, which, if it were running against a stiffish breeze, would be equivalent to say fifty miles an hour through the air—a speed that would probably easily cause it to rise from the ground—but it is a tall story.

Snakes are very common in the desert—the _lefa’a_, or horned viper, and a very similar viper without horns being in places rather unpleasantly numerous. In addition we killed a very thin sandy-coloured snake, about four feet in length, which, so far as I could judge from its head, did not appear to be poisonous. The _naja_, or Egyptian cobra, sometimes seen in the Nile Valley, is, I believe, quite unknown in the desert and oases.

I several times heard rumours of a feathered snake. At first I put this down as being a myth, but I afterwards found that this creature had been seen by at least one European, who had been long resident in the country. The specimen he saw was one killed in the Nile Valley. He described it as being a short, stout, sandy-coloured snake, having along its back, for some distance behind its head, a sort of crest of elongated scales considerably frayed out at their ends.

The existence of this creature is by no means an impossibility, for reptiles and birds are closely related.

Insects in the desert are comparatively few in number. I once found a few small ants, pink and silver in colour. Large grotesque-looking mantids were often seen running about on the sandy portions of the desert. Some of them were of considerable size, many of them being quite three inches long. They were curious creatures, and apparently very pugnacious, as, when approached, they would often turn round and face me, raising themselves slightly on their squat fat bodies and pawing the air with their big front legs.

If I pushed my foot towards them they frequently attacked it, grappling my toe with their legs and trying to bite. I picked up one of the larger ones and gave him the end of my thumb to bite—a rather foolish proceeding, it struck me afterwards, as, for all I knew to the contrary, his bite might have been poisonous. He bit furiously at the end of my thumb with his rather formidable jaws, foaming at the mouth and doing his feeble best to damage me. He managed to get hold of a small pinch of skin between his jaws, which closed in a horizontal direction, and gave me a nip I could distinctly feel.

Once, in the desert west of Dakhla, I found a mosquito, which considerably raised my hopes that I might be getting near water. But it proved to be only a wind-born specimen, coming probably from Nesla or Bu Mungar. Lace-winged flies frequently came into our camp, even when far out into the desert, and on most nights a few moths flew into my tent and came to my candle; occasionally they were in considerable numbers.

The common house flies, though a nuisance in the oasis, are fortunately unknown in the desert, though frequently a swarm of them, if there is no wind, will follow a caravan when starting from an oasis; but they disappear in a day or two.

Once while riding in a desert with my caravan, when, having left an oasis the day before, we were considerably bothered with these pests, a swarm of which kept buzzing round our heads, I was relieved of them in a rather unexpected manner. A swallow—evidently migrating—came up to the caravan from the south, and being presumably very hungry, kept flying round and round our heads, snapping up a fly at every circle. Owing probably to its hunger, the little creature was extraordinarily tame—its wing tips several times almost touched my face. Having remained with the caravan for a few minutes, it circled round us half a dozen times to make sure that there were no flies that it had overlooked, and then flew off and pursued its way to the north.

A list of some of the insects I collected will be found in Appendix II.

The road that we followed to the south-west from Dakhla lay in the direction from which the birds were migrating, so I not only noted every specimen that we saw, but put down in my route book every feather that I picked up, and even the marks on the sand where these migrants had alighted, as this was all valuable evidence that we were still travelling in the right direction.

In addition to palm doves and the smaller migrants, we several times saw storks and cranes, or their tracks; but this, of course, only occurred during the season of their migration. There was a large white bird, which appeared to be an eagle, that we frequently saw at all seasons, but I was never able to get very close to it, as, unlike most desert creatures, it was extremely wild.

The only place where I ever saw any sand grouse, outside the oases, was on the road between Kharga and Dakhla. They seemed to be entirely absent from the desert to the south and south-west of Dakhla, and also from the desert surrounding Farafra Oasis—the reason of their absence presumably being the lack of food.

Not only were insects, reptiles and birds fairly well represented in the desert, but even mammals were not unknown. In addition to the desert rats, about eighty miles to the south of Dakhla I came across the remains of a gazelle, but possibly the poor little beast had only wandered out into the desert to die. Small foxes, though they existed in the oasis, I never saw in the desert—the rats would not have been so numerous if I had. The tracks of a larger fox were seen several times, often several days’ journey away from an oasis. The tracks of jackals, or wolves, I could not be sure which, were still oftener encountered.

The dog tribe, of course, could live on the rats and lizards, but, unless they obtained sufficient moisture from the blood of their victims, they must have returned occasionally to the oases to drink. One wonders why these animals, who can live also in the oases, should prefer to exist in the desert, where the conditions under which they are forced to live must make life almost impossible.

The problem of how the desert rats exist has caused much discussion, and cannot yet be said to be solved. I have found them certainly a good hundred and fifty miles from any oasis, in a part quite barren, yet they were obviously perfectly healthy, plump and lively.

I was once camped for several weeks in the dune belt that runs through Kharga Oasis. One evening I had just sat down to dinner, when I noticed one of these little kangaroo rats hopping about in the candle-light just outside the door of my tent. A sudden movement that I made scared him. He jumped about four feet and was gone in a flash.

But in a minute or two, prompted probably by curiosity, he was back again in his old place, hovering about just outside the tent. Hoping to get a better look at him, I flipped a small piece of bread so that it fell just in front of him. After some hesitation, he pounced on to it, and carrying it a few yards away, proceeded to eat it.

He then came back again, stationing himself a little nearer in, and seized another piece of bread I threw him that dropped about half-way between us. Soon I had him taking pieces actually out of my hand—he was extraordinarily tame.

I was just finishing my meal, and had forgotten all about him, and was reading a book propped up on the table as I ate, when I suddenly felt a tap on the top of my thigh, and on looking down to see what it was, found that he had not only returned, but had actually jumped up on to my leg as I sat at table. In a moment more, he had hopped up on to the table itself and was eating the crumbs.

He was so absolutely fearless that he even allowed me to stroke his back with my finger; but directly I attempted to close my hand over him he jumped off the table in alarm on to the ground, where, however, he remained restlessly hopping about with his extraordinarily springy movement, till I threw him another piece of bread.

Apparently, however, he had had as much as he wanted for the moment, for, instead of eating it as he had done before, he picked it up, hopped out of the tent, and disappeared for several minutes. Presently, however, he came back again. I threw him another piece that he again made off with, and after an interval returned for more. He must have carried off about ten pieces in this way that evening, each piece about the size of a filbert. I kept on feeding him so long as he continued to return; but at last, being perhaps tired after carrying so often what must have been a heavy load for him, he ceased to appear.

He returned again on the following night, and for eight consecutive ones. Each night I gave him as much bread as he would eat and carry away. He seemed to be a very small eater; but he must have taken off with him enough bread to make two or three loaves. In addition, he levied toll on the grain for the camels, which he obtained by gnawing holes in the sacks.

This last, however, proved to be his undoing, for one of my men happened to catch him in the act, and promptly, much to my disgust, killed him. It was unquestionably the same rat that had come nightly to my tent that had also carried off the grain, for there was no possibility of mistaking him, owing to the fact that he had lost an eye.

I felt quite sorry to lose the little beast, which had become quite a pet, and latterly became so tame that he would allow me to pick him up and stroke him. When my man, however, grabbed hold of him in his hand, he promptly bit him in the thumb.

These little kangaroo rats are wonderfully pretty little creatures, just the colour of the sand itself, with large black eyes and a very long tail. Their most striking peculiarity is the enormous muscular development of their hind legs, which seem quite disproportionately massive in comparison with their small bodies.

It is this great muscular development of their long hind legs that gives them such wonderful powers of locomotion. Once, while travelling with my caravan over a large area of level sand, I came across the track of one of these rats, quite clearly visible on the smooth surface, and as it happened to be travelling in practically the same direction as I was going myself, I followed it for a long distance.

The track consisted of a series of double dots where the hind feet had landed on the sand, occurring at regular intervals of three to four feet apart. I followed those tracks for over nine miles in practically a straight line, till a change in the direction of my route from that of the rat compelled me to leave them.

During the whole of the time during which I followed them, I only found three or four places where the rat had abandoned his regular pace and stopped for a moment or two to turn round and round apparently to play with his tail.

The speed at which these little beasts can travel is little short of marvellous. The fastest runner would not have the remotest chance of catching them; when frightened, they will go off at a pace that the natives say even a horse cannot equal. The steady rate which the one whose tracks I had followed had kept up for so many miles, shows that they can travel long distances without tiring, and that they not only can, but do.

It is in this marvellous capacity for getting over the ground, and their habit of hoarding up provisions, that the explanation of their ability to live in these districts can, I believe, be found.

Absolutely barren as this district seems to be, there are here and there patches of grass, quite dead to all appearances, but which have probably shed their seed on the surrounding ground. Even in these arid districts rain is not unknown—there were stories in Dakhla of a regular downpour that was said to have occurred not many years before, when rain fell in such quantities that many of the mud-built houses of the oasis melted before it and fell down. Rainfall such as this, or even a heavy shower, might cause the seed to sprout. The grass is usually found growing on the stiffest clay, which would hold the moisture from the rain for a considerable time, and, aided by the great heat of the warmer months, cause the grass to grow with extreme rapidity. Upon this grass and its seeds these rats could easily live, and from it they could store up in their underground burrows provisions to last them for a very long time. Rats are known to be able to subsist on hard grain alone, that does not contain more than ten or fifteen per cent of moisture.[18] They are probably acquainted with a number of places where these grasses grow, and, as it is known that they never drink, by making a store near each, and travelling from one to another as their depots become exhausted, they can maintain themselves for several years of drought. The tracks that we saw running continuously for nine miles at a stretch, with hardly a break, may have been those of a rat travelling from one of his storehouses to another. A journey such as this could hardly have been undertaken without some definite object in view. A fifty mile run would be nothing to one of these little creatures, so they would be able to draw their supplies from thousands of square miles of country, within which, even in this arid desert, they would be able to find plenty to live upon. In one place, too, we found green _terfa_ bushes, from which they may perhaps have obtained some nourishment, and possibly sufficient moisture from the green portions of the plants to enable them to exist without drinking—though an occasional journey of a hundred miles or so, into an oasis to procure water, would be quite within the locomotive powers of these extraordinary little creatures.