Chapter XXII

Departure from Timbuctoo on the 4th of May, 1828 — Caravanof six hundred camels — Entrance of the desert — Suffocating heat — The caravan falls in with the Tooariks — Manner in which the arabs direct their course in the desert — Aspect of Sahara, like the bed of a sea without water — Details respecting the caravans — The place where Major Laing was assassinated — El-Arawan, a city in the desert; its springs, population, and trade — Information respecting Tawât and Wâlet — Caravan of four hundred camels — Disheartening effect of the view of endless sands.

On parting with my host, I thanked him for his generous hospitality: though he had often declared that all the care he took of me was for the love of God and the prophet, I offered him the woollen wrapper which I bought at Kakondy, and which had been so useful to me during my long illness at Timé; I also offered him the _satala_ or vase which I used for my ablutions. Contrary to my expectation, this excellent man declined receiving my offered presents, observing that I should want those articles in the course of my journey, and that I ought not to be deprived of them. At last, overcome by my solicitations, he consented to accept them; but, the day before my departure, he, in his turn, presented me with a cotton wrapper manufactured in the Soudan, and which was of equal value with the one I had given him. He added to this handsome present a new cotton coussabe also, that I might have a change of dress on my journey. This was not all, he presented me with a stock of provisions sufficient to last till I reached El-Arawan; and he paid all the expenses of my journey to that place, warmly recommending me to one of the inhabitants, who was his agent, during the stay I should make there before I crossed the great desert. In short, he spared no pains to diminish the hardships of that undertaking. He also gave me two leathern bottles to hold my supply of water for the journey; some dokhnou, wheaten bread, baked in the same way as our biscuit, melted butter, and a large quantity of rice.

It was very warm during the whole of the fortnight that I stayed at Timbuctoo; the wind never ceased to blow from the east.

The caravan destined for el-Arawan, with which I had resolved to travel, was to set out on the 4th of May, at sun-rise. My host was up so early that morning as to allow me time, before my departure, to breakfast with him on tea, new bread, and butter. That nothing might diminish the agreeable impression which my stay at Timbuctoo had made upon me, I met, on departing, the host of Major Laing, who made me accept some new clothing for my journey.

Sidi-Abdallahi accompanied me to some distance from his house, and, at parting with me, he affectionately pressed my hand and wished me a good journey. This farewell detained me almost too long. To rejoin the caravan, which had already proceeded to a considerable distance, I was obliged, as well as three slaves who had also remained behind, to run a whole mile through the sand. This effort fatigued me so much, that, on reaching the caravan, I fell down in a state of insensibility; I was lifted up and placed on a loaded camel, where I sat among the packages, and though dreadfully shaken I was too glad at being relieved from the labour of walking to complain of my beast.

On the 4th of May, 1828, at eight in the morning, we directed our route to the north over a sandy soil, almost moving, quite level, and completely barren. However, at the distance of two miles from the town, we met with a few shrubs resembling junipers, and some rather tall clusters of _mimosa ferruginea_, which yield a gum of inferior quality. The inhabitants of Timbuctoo send their slaves hither for fire-wood. The heat was most oppressive, and the progress of the camels was extremely slow; for, as they moved along, they browsed on the thistles and withered herbs, which they found scattered here and there on these plains. During this first day the slaves were allowed to drink at discretion, as I was. This conduct was doubtless very humane; nevertheless, I was soon shocked by an act of barbarity, which I had the misfortune to see too often repeated. A poor Bambara slave of twenty-five was cruelly treated by some Moors, who compelled him to walk, without allowing him to halt for a moment, or to quench his burning thirst. The complaints of this unfortunate creature, who had never been accustomed to endure such extraordinary privations, might have moved the hardest heart. Sometimes he would beg to rest himself against the crupper of a camel, and at others he threw himself down on the sand in despair. In vain did he implore, with uplifted hands, a drop of water; his cruel masters answered his prayers and his tears only with stripes.

At Timbuctoo the merchants give the slaves shirts, such as are worn in the country, that they may be decently covered; but on the route the Moors of the caravans, who are the most barbarous men I ever knew, take the good shirts from them and give them others all in rags.

At five in the evening the caravan, the camels of which amounted to nearly six hundred, halted in a ravine of yellow sand, which was, however, pretty solid. Here these animals found some herbage, and the spot appeared to me delightful. A slave, who was barely allowed time to take a drink of water, was ordered to look after our camels, and we thought of nothing but how to pass the night quietly; but before we laid ourselves down to sleep, we made our supper on a calabash of water, some dokhnou, and the bread which I had received from Sidi-Abdallahi; the bread being hard we soaked it in the water, into which we put a little butter and honey. This mixture was to us a delicious beverage. The slaves had for their supper some sangleh seasoned with butter and salt. These good-natured creatures were so kind as to offer me some of their meal.

On the 5th of May, at sun-rise, we resumed our journey. We still proceeded towards the north, upon ground similar to that over which we passed on the preceding day. A few stunted bushes were descried here and there, and also some salvadoras, which the camels devoured.

Towards noon we approached a less level region, where the ground was raised into slightly elevated mounds, all inclining in the direction from east to west. The heat was suffocating, on account of the east wind, which raised great clouds of sand: our lips were covered with it; our thirst became insupportable; and our sufferings increased in proportion as we advanced further in the desert. We fell in with two Tooariks, who were going to el-Arawan, and whom we took to be the scouts of a troop of these marauders. Fortunately they were alone. They were both mounted on one camel. On the left arm they had a leather buckler; by the side, a poniard; and in the right hand, a pike. Knowing that they should meet us in their route, they had brought no provisions with them, and trusted to the caravan for a supply. These robbers, who would have trembled at the slightest menace, if seriously made, took advantage of the terror which their name and the crimes of their tribe every where spread, and obtained whatever they demanded: in a word, the best of every thing was presented to them. On the one hand, there was a sort of rivalship in offering them whatever they chose to eat; on the other, to give them water, though it would be six days before we should come to any. At last, after they had staid with us three days, we had the satisfaction to see them depart, and to be delivered from their troublesome company.

At four in the evening we encamped to pass the night, during which we were oppressed by excessive heat, caused by a dead calm. The sky was heavy and covered with clouds which seemed immoveable in the immensity of space. Still the heat continued intense.

Before proceeding farther, I ought to inform the reader how I continued to make an estimate of the route. We travelled, at an average, about two miles an hour. At night we proceeded almost constantly in a northerly direction. Being afraid that my pocket compass would be noticed if I took it out to consult it, I judged of our course during the day by the sun; in the night, by the pole-star.

It is by this star that the Arabs are guided in all their excursions through the desert. The oldest caravan conductors go first, to lead the way. A sand-hill, a rock, a difference of colour in the sand, a few tufts of herbage, are infallible marks, which enable them to recognize their situation. Though without a compass, or any instrument for observation, they possess so completely the habit of noticing the most minute things, that they never go astray, though they have no path traced out for them, and though the wind in an instant completely covers with sand and obliterates the track of the camels.

The desert, however, does not always present the same aspect, or, consequently the same difficulties. In some parts I found it covered with rocks and gravel, which bore the traces of caravans that had passed long before. Besides, though the desert is a plain of sand and rock, the Arab commits few errors in crossing it, and is seldom wrong to the extent of half an hour in fixing the time of arrival at the wells. I ought not to omit to mention, that these wells are almost constantly found covered over, and that the first thing done on the arrival of a caravan is to clear away the sand.

On the 6th of May we resumed our march, at three in the morning, and continued our route to the north. Still the same soil, the same aridity, and the same uniformity, as on the preceding days.

The atmosphere was very heavy all day, and the heat excessive. It seemed as if we should have rain. The sun, concealed by clouds, appeared only at long intervals. But our prayers did not obtain from Heaven a drop of rain. In spite of all the prognostics no shower fell. The further northward we proceeded the more barren the country became. We no longer saw either thistles or salvadoras: sad consolations, where all nature wears so frightful an aspect! The plain had here the precise appearance of the ocean; perhaps such as the bed of a sea would have, if left by the water. In fact, the winds form in the sand undulating furrows, like the waves of the sea when a breeze slightly ruffles its surface. At the sight of this dismal spectacle, of this awful abandonment and nakedness, I forgot for a moment my hardships, to reflect on the violent convulsions which thus appeared to have dried up part of the ocean, and of the sudden catastrophes which have changed the face of our globe.

At eleven in the morning we halted. The heat was insupportable, and we seated ourselves beside some unhealthy looking mimosas, over which we extended our wrappers, for these shrubs being destitute of leaves afforded no shade of themselves. Under our tents thus formed, we had distributed to us a calabash of water, which was rendered tepid by the east wind. According to our custom, we threw into the water some handfuls of dokhnou. Finally, to relieve ourselves from every immediate care, we sent a slave to watch our camels, which were endeavouring to refresh themselves by browsing on some withered herbage. We then lay down to sleep on the sand, which at this place was covered with small stones. This was not done from indolence, but from consideration; for it was proper to wait for night to take advantage of the coolness, when we might travel more at our ease than during the day, in which the calms were sometimes more insupportable than the burning sun. During these calms I could not close my eyes, while the Moors slept soundly. The same kind of calm often prevails during the night, but then there is some compensation in the absence of the sun. In the inhabited countries, the night, or rather the latter part of the night, is always the most agreeable portion of the twenty-four hours. It is at day-break that the flowers exhale all their perfumes: the air is then gently agitated, and the birds commence their songs. Recollections, at once pleasing and painful, turned my thoughts to the south. In the midst of this frightful desert could I fail to regret the land which nature has embellished?

The caravans which traverse the desert are under no absolute commander; every one manages his camels as he pleases, whether he has many or few; some have fifteen, others six or ten; and there are individuals who possess not more than three; I have even seen some with only two, but these were very poor. Such persons join richer travellers and take care of their camels; in return, they are supplied with provisions and water during the journey.

The Moors always lay out the profits of their journeys in the purchase of camels, and none of them travel to Timbuctoo without possessing at least one. The camels do not advance in files, as they would do in our roads lined by hedges and cultivated lands. On the contrary they move in all directions, in groupes, or single, but in this journey their route is always between N. N. E. and N. N. W. Those which belong to one master keep together, and do not mix with strange camels; and I have seen as many as fifty grouped together in this way. A camel’s load is five hundred pounds, and the carriage from Timbuctoo to Tafilet costs ten or twelve gold mitkhals,[15] which are paid in advance.

The camels which convey merchandise of light weight, such as ostrich feathers, clothes, and stuffs in the piece, have their loads made up with slaves, water, and rice; for, the load being paid for according to its weight, the proprietors of the camels, if that weight were not completed, would gain nothing by the carriage of merchandise more cumbersome than heavy. When the caravan stops, the groupes of camels are kept at the distance of two hundred paces from each other, to obviate the confusion which would arise if they were suffered to mix together.

When the Moors return to their country, they do not carry back merely ostrich feathers and ivory; but they take also gold, some more, and some less. I saw some who had as much as the value of a hundred mitkhals. This gold is generally sent to the merchants of Tafilet by their correspondents at Timbuctoo, in return for the merchandise sent by the former, and sold on their account by the latter. During our halts in the deserts, I often saw the Moors weighing their gold in little scales similar to ours, which are made in Morocco. The gold which is conveyed by these travelling clerks of the desert is carefully rolled up in pieces of cloth, with a label, on which are written the weight of the metal and the name of the individual to whom it belongs.

When night set in, we took our usual supper, consisting of water, bread, butter, and honey. Several Moors, with whom we were not acquainted, came and asked us for a supper; they then invited the two Moors who were of our party to share their mess of baked rice and butter. Though they knew that they had partaken of my provisions, yet they did not think proper to invite me, a proof, that notwithstanding all my efforts, there existed a feeling of distrust towards me. At sun-set a north breeze arose, which, though not very cool, was nevertheless very reviving, and enabled me to enjoy a little sleep.

About eleven at night we set out, still proceeding northward, and directing our course by the pole-star. The camels are so well acquainted with the desert that, as soon as they are loaded, they take, as if by instinct, the northern course. It would seem that they are guided by the recollection of the springs of water which are found in that direction. I really believe that a traveller, though alone, might safely trust himself to the guidance of his camel.

The night was hot and calm, and the clear sky was studded with stars. We had before us the great and the little wain which appeared very near the horizon. As I could not sleep, I amused myself by observing the courses of the stars; I saw in the east the remarkable groupe called the constellation of Orion; I watched it during nearly half its course, almost to our zenith. On the approach of day, the stars disappeared and seemed to sink into an ocean of sand.

The camels never accelerate their pace, which is naturally somewhat tardy. When they are in haste, they thrust forward their necks, the motion of which corresponds with that of their legs. They are led by men on foot, whose labour is so fatiguing, that it is necessary to relieve them every two hours.

The ground over which we travelled during the night appeared to me to be even more barren than that which we had passed on the preceding days. For whole hours in succession we did not see a single blade of grass.

At eleven in the morning the heat became excessive, and we halted at a place where we found a few little banks of sand. A slave was sent to seek out a few bushes that might afford us shade, but no such thing was to be discovered. The reflection of the rays of the sun on the sand augmented the heat. It was impossible to stand barefoot on the sand without experiencing intolerable pain. The desert is here and there interspersed with a few hills, and we found at very distant intervals a little grass for the camels.

We had been the whole of the morning without drink, and as soon as our tents were pitched we slaked our thirst. Our water began to diminish in proportion as our thirst increased, therefore we did not cook any thing for supper, but merely drank a little dokhnou. About eleven at night we broke up our camp and proceeded northward: at seven in the morning we turned N. N. W.

At eleven o’clock on the 8th of May, the insupportable heat obliged us to halt on a spot as flat and barren as that at which we had stopped on the preceding day. We pitched our tents, and assembled beneath them. Some drink was distributed to us; and, as we had tasted none since five o’clock on the preceding evening, our thirst was very great. Though the water had received a bad taste from the leathern bag, it was nevertheless exceedingly grateful. I observed some ravens and vultures, the only inhabitants of these deserts. They subsist on the carcases of the camels that die and are left behind on the road. At half past six in the evening, after having refreshed ourselves with a glass of water and dokhnou, we proceeded on our journey. We travelled all night in a northerly direction. The camels, finding no pasture, went on without stopping.

About 8 o’clock on the morning of the 9th of May, we halted in a sandy plain, where we found a little grass for our poor camels. There we perceived at a distance the camels of el-Arawan.

In the morning, little before sun-rise, the Moors who accompanied me shewed me the spot where Major Laing was murdered. I there observed the site of a camp. I averted my eyes from this scene of horror, and secretly dropped a tear—the only tribute of regret I could render to the ill-fated traveller, to whose memory no monument will ever be reared on the spot where he perished.

Several Moors of our caravan, who had witnessed the fatal event, told me that the major had but little property with him when he was stopped by the chief of the Zawâts, and that he had offered five hundred piastres to a Moor to conduct him to Souyerah (Mogador). This the Moor refused to do, for what reason I was not informed, and I dared not inquire. They also spoke of the sextant, which I have mentioned above.

Having pitched our tents near some water, we could drink as much as we pleased. Rice was boiled for our dinner and we were somewhat indemnified for the privations we had undergone in the preceding days. At six in the evening we proceeded northwards over a very level sandy soil, on which were scattered a few solitary patches of vegetation. Though the sand has a tolerable consistency, yet not a tree was to be seen. Towards nine in the evening, we arrived at El-Arawan, another commercial entrepot. We encamped outside the city, and in the neighbourhood I observed several tents and camels, which I was told belonged to the caravan, waiting for the signal for departure. Our arrival was greeted by the howling of dogs, a circumstance which reminded me that I had seen none of those animals at Timbuctoo.

Being unaccustomed to riding on camels, I found myself extremely fatigued by the journey. The moment we stopped, I spread my wrapper upon the sand, and fell into a profound sleep. I did not find the heat so oppressive as it had been on the preceding days. I was roused to partake of an excellent couscous brought from the city.

On the morning of the 10th of May my guide took me to his correspondent Kalif, to whom I had been recommended in a private letter from Sidi-Abdallahi-Chebir. I met with a favourable reception, and he lodged me in one of his houses, where he had some slaves and merchandise.

As soon as I was installed in my new dwelling, my guide, who had been very attentive to me on the journey, wished through my influence to get himself quartered upon Kalif; but I refused to make any such proposal to my host, lest I should appear troublesome. Finding me obstinate on this point, he asked me to lend him my cotton wrapper to wear while he paraded about the town to visit his acquaintance. I consented to this in order to get rid of him; but next day, I thought it prudent to make him return my wrapper. Another time he told me that he had been robbed of the wooden bowl, out of which he used to drink on the journey, and earnestly begged me to ask my host for one and give it him. Wearied by all these demands and not knowing how to get rid of the troublesome fellow, I gave him a flat refusal; but that did not deter him from coming very often to partake of my repast of rice and couscous. This man was continually asking the slaves, whether they had any provisions or other articles to sell, a practise by which he and others like him often induced the poor creatures to plunder their masters.

My host sent me, about eleven o’clock in the morning, a plate of well flavoured rice and meat, and about eight in the evening a plate of couscous for my supper. The water for my drink was brackish and luke-warm.

On the 11th and following days, I inspected the town of El-Arawan. It is situated in a hollow, and surrounded by sandy hills, which extend to the west. The streets are wider than those of Timbuctoo, and equally clean. The houses, built in the same manner as at Timbuctoo, are much lower and less solid; for the sand here is not of so clayey a nature. The roofs are flat; instead of the small pieces of wood, which are used in the buildings at Timbuctoo, they here substitute the stalks of a bullrush which grows in the neighbourhood of the town. Thin rafters of ronnier wood support these reeds, which are slightly covered with sand. The magazines are very small. The houses are all of very frail construction, and their number may be five hundred, each containing about six inhabitants, including slaves. Before the doors is sprinkled a yellow kind of sand, which is found by digging to a certain depth.

El-Arawan, like Timbuctoo, possesses no resources of its own. It is the entrepot of the salt of Toudeyni, which is exported to Sansanding, on the banks of the Dhioliba. Its soil is even more barren than that of Timbuctoo. As far as the eye can reach, no trace of vegetation is to be perceived. The camels of the numerous caravans have to go a great distance for forage. Wood is so scarce, that nothing is burned but camel-dung, which is carefully collected by the slaves. This is the only fuel used even for cooking. The Moors collect their camels every six days, in order to take them to drink at the wells, which are in the environs of the town. These wells are about sixty paces deep. They employ a camel to draw up the bucket, which is made of hide. A pulley is also used. The water of these wells is brackish, warm, and very unwholesome. The springs are numerous. At the depth of four feet from the surface is found a grey sand mixed with a little clay of the same colour. This sand is tolerably firm. At the bottom of the pits there is a very white kind of earth, resembling chalk, of which I carried away a specimen. There are also some black and grey pebbles, and a small quantity of calcareous stones, of which the Moors make a brim round the wells. The place in which they are dug is flat, and surrounded by large hillock of sand. I have often seen the Moors employed in watering their camels. They have a trough of tanned hide, which stands on three supports of twisted wood. For drawing up the water they use a rope made of straw, first damped and beaten and afterwards twisted. Though water when kept in the houses is always exposed to a current of air, it is invariably warm, and consequently very disagreeable for drinking.

Many Moors and negroes, impelled by curiosity, followed me in the streets. Some asked for snuff; in vain did I assure them that I had none, and never used any, they would not relinquish the attack, and they called me christian as the greatest insult they could offer me. Their vociferations were accompanied by threatening gestures. I began to fear that I should lose my temper, and that the affair might become serious. I hastened back to my lodging, into which my assailants followed me. An old Moor took pity on me, and reproached them for their behaviour, assuring them that I was a Musulman and a stranger, and under the protection of Kalif, who would be indignant at my being ill treated. He finally succeeded in dispersing them.

I found a great difference between the inhabitants of this place and those of Timbuctoo, where I had been well received by the Moors. The people of El-Arawan, on the other hand, looked upon me with suspicion. They could not believe, that after having passed my youth among the christians, I should voluntarily forsake their customs and resume those of my kindred. Fortunately for me, some old men more zealous, or credulous, than the rest, declared that God would support me in the way of salvation, since he had inspired me with so astonishing a resolution. They added in Arabic, “Let us thank God, that he has returned among us.”

These disagreeable occurrences induced me to appear more zealous than hitherto. I went regularly to the mosque, but, when I prostrated myself, like the disciples of the prophet, I offered up fervent prayers to God, thus endeavouring to atone for the painful sacrifice of my religion which I was outwardly compelled to make.

El-Arawan is not a place of such active trade as Timbuctoo, whence all provisions for the former place are brought, Sansanding, which is twenty-five days’ journey to the west, being too far distant to afford supplies. I was told, indeed, by several Moors, that the journey occupied a month.

El-Arawan sends, as I have before said, the salt of the mines of Toudeyni to Sansanding and Jamina, by caravans of Moorish merchants, who also carry tobacco, which is cultivated in Tafilet and Zawât.

This town, though inhabited by the Moors of Zawât[16] and the different countries on the banks of the Mediterranean, has no market. I never saw so dull a place. In the interior of the town there are, as at Timbuctoo straw huts for the slaves.

Bousbéhey, of which I have already spoken, is two days’ journey distant from El-Arawan, and the inhabitants of the latter place purchase cattle there, as in all parts of the interior of Africa there are no markets. Each family kills a bullock from time to time and cures the meat, by drying it in the sun. It is eaten with rice or couscous.

Though the great distance of Sansanding does not permit the inhabitants of El-Arawan to go thither for millet, they procure from that place more valuable articles, such as ivory, gold, slaves, wax, honey, the cloths of Soudan, and cured provisions. Rice is also transported thence in small quantities. Cowries, which are the current money of Soudan, do not pass at El-Arawan. There nothing circulates but gold and silver—neat pieces of the value of a mitkhal, in imitation of the money of Morocco. The gold mitkhal increases in value as you approach the coasts.

El-Arawan is the point for the arrival of the caravans from Tafilet, Cape Mogador, Drah, Tawât, and the cities of Aghdâmus and Tripoli. They bring merchandise of European manufacture, such as fire-arms, gunpowder, stuffs, and a few productions of their own countries, as tobacco, dates, &c.

Kalif, who was one of the principal merchants of El-Arawan, was a native of Tawât, and he received from his country merchandise which he sent to the Dhioliba. The caravans which perform this journey are seven days without procuring water; after which they reach the banks of the river, which I was informed is very wide at that part.

I supposed it to be the banks of the lake Débo. At a short distance from this place which is not inhabited, negro villages are met with as far as Sansanding.

In the rainy season, which occurs at the same time as at Timbuctoo the inhabitants of El-Arawan are visited by the Touariks, who come and pitch their tents in the environs of the city, and collect the duties which they impose on traders. These duties are not so exorbitant as at Timbuctoo. The Touariks observe some moderation at El-Arawan, on account of its distance from their country.

The inhabitants of the town are all fanatical Moors; they have numerous slaves, which they purchase at Sansanding, and, notwithstanding the natural brutality of the people, they treat their slaves kindly; they allow them plenty of food, consisting of sangleh, which is eaten with a sauce made of dried baobab leaves, boiled and seasoned with salt or allspice. They also clothe them well. If to the misery incidental to this wretched country were added the bad treatment which slaves experience in some parts of the desert, the poor creatures could not long survive.

An old Moor named Sidi-Boubacar is the chief of El-Arawan; he acts as judge in all the differences which arise among the inhabitants. At his death his son succeeds him. The Mahometan chief levies no duties on the people. He is himself a merchant and possesses considerable herds of camels. In the rainy season, when forage becomes more abundant, the inhabitants use camels’ milk as an article of food.

On the 14th of May, a violent gale blew from the east, which unroofed several of the houses, and raised such a quantity of sand, that it was impossible to keep the doors open. The heat, though there was no sun, was stifling. The air was full of sand, which descended in the night. It would be impossible to express what I suffered during this storm. I was obliged to lie on the ground, with my head enveloped in a pagne, to protect myself from the burning sand, which entered through the chinks in the door. I experienced a continual thirst, and had nothing but warm and brackish water to quench it. This unwholesome drink caused a violent derangement of the stomach, and the heat, rising to a degree I had never before felt, produced a dreadful head-ache.

The slaves, obliged sometimes to walk barefoot on the sand, complained of violent pain, which they were not able to bear long, but which soon compelled them to return home. The Moors stay within doors, keeping a piece of cloth constantly before their lips, to prevent the sand from getting into their mouths. I was unable to comprehend how the mere love of gain could induce these people to live for twelve or fifteen years in such a dreadful country.

The town of Walet, mentioned by Mungo Park, is ten days’ journey W. N. W. of El-Arawan. Some Moors, whom I saw, told me, that no water is to be met with on the road, and that this town carries on a great traffic in salt with Sansanding, Yamina, and Ségo. This last place is five days’ journey to the south; salt, which is its principal article of trade is obtained from the mines of Waden,[17] situated in the great desert, fifteen or eighteen days’ journey north of Walet. This salt is made up in cakes of the same dimensions as those of Toudeyni. The inhabitants keep a great many camels, as well as a few goats and sheep. Walet is situated on a barren soil, not susceptible of cultivation, and the inhabitants buy corn in the Bambara country. I was told that this town is as large as Timbuctoo. I questioned some Moors respecting Tichit, but was unable to obtain any positive information on the subject.

During my stay at El-Arawan the same scorching east wind continually prevailed and obliged me to keep myself within doors, which vexed me not a little.

The caravans which were assembled at El-Arawan prepared to depart in a few days. I looked forward with pleasure to the happy moment when I was to leave this disagreeable country. My host, a zealous Musulman, laid in a supply of provisions for my journey. It was neither to his generosity nor his friendship for me that I owed this attention;—it was purely a sacrifice, which his piety prompted him to make in order to conciliate the favour of the prophet. The provisions consisted of a bag of rice weighing about fifty pounds, a bag of dokhnou of the same weight, and about ten pounds of butter. This was more than sufficient to last me two months. Wishing to make some acknowledgment for the attention of Kalif, I offered him some pieces of silver, a pair of scissors, and a small piece of cloth, the only one I had left. The good Musulman at first affected an unwillingness to accept my presents, saying that I was poor, and that probably the things would be useful to me, and that what he had done for me was solely with the view of serving God. He however put the silver in his pocket, and was apparently much pleased with that sort of money which is very uncommon in this country. He sent my provisions to the tent of Sidi-Aly, a Moor, with whom I was to go to Tafilet. This man, whom Sidi-Abdallahi-Chébir had recommended to me, had received on departing from Timbuctoo ten gold mitkhals (equal to 120 francs) for my expenses in the desert.

A Moor, who was settled at El-Arawan, and with whom I used frequently to converse, made me a present of a skin to enable me to increase my supply of water. He informed me that I should suffer much from thirst on the journey, and that for seven or eight days we should meet with no wells. The description he gave of crossing the desert at this season made me shudder. I thought I should certainly share the fate of the many unfortunate travellers who had perished there. However I rallied my courage, by dwelling on the hope of relating in my native country the result of my observations. I then no longer thought any difficulty insurmontable.

Sidi-Aly, whom I had not seen at Timbuctoo, and to whom Sidi-Abdallahi, my host, had strongly recommended me, gave me extraordinary proofs of his regard. He assured me that he would treat me as his son. He confirmed the report I had previously heard respecting the scarcity of water on the road, and stated that we should have to undergo great privations, but that I must not be disheartened, as he would take care of me, seeing that I was not like the rest, accustomed to the heat of the desert, and could not so well bear the excessive thirst, to which we should often be exposed. This person was looked upon by the Moors as a zealous Musulman. I was assured that he feared God, and that he would act towards me as he had promised. Sidi-Aly always carried in his hand a rosary two feet and a half long, the beads of which were as large as nuts. He never failed, when he met any one in the streets, to cast his eyes piously on the ground, at the same time moving his lips, as if he were muttering a prayer. By this hypocrisy he imposed on me, as he did on others, and I believed that he was as good as he pretended to be; but I was cruelly deceived. Notwithstanding his feigned zeal for religion, the old hypocrite did not keep one of the promises he made me, as will be seen in the sequel.

We left El-Arawan on the 19th of May 1828, at six o’clock in the morning. Aly, my guide, had sent his son to carry my luggage to the place appointed for the rendezvous of the caravan. My host had invited me to share his repast; but as it was not cooked, I was obliged to set off without tasting anything but a little dokhnou and millet. He again recommended me to my guide, and took his leave of me after wishing me a prosperous journey. It was about half past seven, when the caravan began to move to the N. E. I was concerned to see the poor slaves, whom I recognized as having been my companions from Jenné to El-Arawan, running through the sand to overtake the camels, which were in advance.

Our caravan was numerous: it consisted of fourteen hundred camels, laden with the various productions of the Soudan; as gold, slaves, ivory, gum, ostrich-feathers, and cloth in the piece and made into dresses. In leaving El-Arawan the road leads over a sandy country, with but few traces of vegetation. After proceeding six miles in this direction, we arrived at Mourat, a small village, containing five houses like those of El-Arawan, and built of sand bricks. At Mourat, the sons of Sidi-Boubacar, chief of El-Arawan, keep a school, where the children of the inhabitants of the town study the Koran. Mourat appeared to me even more gloomy than El-Arawan; the uniformity of the soil is broken only by a few plants, which are eaten by the camels, and which are buried beneath the sand, drifted by the east wind. On leaving Mourat, the traveller comes to some deep wells filled with brackish water. Here our caravan stopped and took a hearty draught, for we were now about to enter upon a part of the desert where we should find no water for the space of eight days. In the midst of these vast deserts, the wells of Mourat, surrounded by fourteen hundred camels, and by the four hundred men of our caravan, who were crowded round them, presented the moving picture of a populous town; it was a perfect tumult of men and beasts. On one side were camels laden with ivory, gum, and bales of goods of all sorts; on the other, camels carrying on their backs negroes, men, women, and children, who were on their way to be sold at the Morocco market; and further on, men prostrate on the ground, invoking the prophet.

This spectacle touched and excited my feelings, and in imitation of the devout Musulmans, I fell on my knees; but it was to pray to the God of the Christians: with my eyes turned to the north, towards my country, my relations, and friends, I besought the Almighty to remove from my path the obstacles which had stopped so many other travellers; in the ardour of my wishes, I imagined that my prayer was granted, and that I should be the first European who had set out from the south of Africa, to cross this ocean of sand, and succeeded in the undertaking. The thought electrified me; and while a gloom hung on all other faces, mine was radiant with hope and joy. Full of these sentiments I hastened to mount my camel, and to penetrate fearlessly into the deserts which separate the fertile Soudan from the regions of northern Africa. I felt as if I was mounting the breach of an impregnable fort, and that it was incumbent upon me to sustain the honour of my nation, by divesting myself of every kind of fear and braving this new peril.

A boundless horizon was already expanded before us, and we could distinguish nothing but an immense plain of shining sand, and over it a burning sky. At this sight the camels uttered long moans, the slaves became sullen and silent, and, with their eyes turned towards heaven, they appeared to be tortured with regret for the loss of their country, and with the recollection of the verdant plains from which avarice and cruelty had snatched them.