The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1896-11-24
GREAT SAHARA DESERT
NOTES OF SUMMER VISIT TO THE
WASTES OF SAND AND ROCK.
a Panorama of Arid DcsOlation-Tem-
perature and VcgetatiOn-Dcad
Lake and Perpetual Mirage.
Philadelnhia Ledger

are instinctively turned in the direction of
the desert. The poetry of travel is now
presumably to be turned into prose, the
soft and smiling picture of nature into that
hard ruggedness which speaks of a land
scape not yet finished. And yet the first
view of the desert is that of one of its
GASES, and one which Is very nearly the
fairest of them all, for it receives the cool
ness of the north as we'll as the heat from
the south and the stream that carries the
luxury of growth into it's deeper recesses
has not yet been Slapped of its vitality by
continuous summer heat.
Long before we reach the fine gardens Of
Mount Kantara we are in the desert. Giant
rocks. burned brown and red under the
glow of the southern sun. stand out in wild
pinnacles from the gently undulating sur
face, their rugged sides buried in the sand
which they themselves have made. This is
not the desert that is ordinarily pictured in
the mind-that fiat, endless expanse which
fades off unmoved and unbroken to the
limits of vision-but it is the desert never
theless just as much as the mountain
SHOWS of the far North are a part of the
great Arctic sea of ice.'' Beyond, how
ever, is the great plain itself, its swelling
undulations hardly relieving to the eye the
picture presents.
The truth is that the Sahara has a double
aspect, that of the fiat and sandy plains
and that of the rocky ridge or mountain,
the so-called Hammada. 1t is the latter that
is more particularly dreaded by the cara
vans, for among their wind-swept crags
there are no. or but few, GASES, and only
the blowing sands and a relentless sun are
the companions of the footsore pilgrim.
In the fiat desert, at least, where the sand
is not too deep, travelling is moderately
easy, for over long distances the surface
has become coated into hard, calcareous
crust-a solid basement rock. one may cali
1t. We saw no sand dunes of any magni-
tude, those along the southern face of the
great Chott Melghgh. about twenty feet in
height. being the highest. But 1 was in
formed by competent authority at Biskra
that beyond Tuggurt on our route, they
rise to the prodigious height of 1,2O0 to
1,4Oo feet. This is certainly an imposing
monument to the power of the wind-one
that speaks far more eloquently. even, than
the wind-swept sands of coral islands.
FEATURES OF THE DESERT.
1t has become custom in certain book
quarters of late to say that the Sahara is
not as fiat as it is commonly assumed to
be, and that it is almost everywhere torn
into ridges and rents. That is, however,
an imperfect statement of the ruth. The
fiat desert is almost interminably fiat for
days or weeks CT travel, with hardly a rise
of more than few feet for mile after mile
of perspective. All around is the same ex-
panse; in vain the eye searches for some
special object to give it relief; it does not
exist, unless 1t be the far-off tufts of an
approaching oasis.
L not sure that these endless sands
are truly imposing. Sometimes they GER
fanny are, but they present most eXquiS-
lte pictures in the varying lights of the
morning ana evening sun. 1t Is then that
world
own, speaking in color that belongs to
them aiope I'VE We We're not to any extent
discomforts in the atmosphere. Only as we
approached Mreir. at the close of a hard
days journey of siXty-four miles, did We
come in disagreeable conflict with them
Our horses had more than their share in
the second half of the days work; for the
better part of four miles had been
dragged through deep sand, and finally the
courage of the poor animals had spent it
SELF We were stuck fast in the Sahara
sands at point some seventy feet below
sea level Coaxing and urging had little
effect, and it was not until We ourselves
took long hand in pushing and pulling
that we succeeded in extricating ourselves
Let 1T not for moment be assumed that
the Sahara, even in the parts that do not
belong to the region of the GASES, is every
where destitute of growing vegetation. Far
from this is really the case. Along the en-
tire length of our journey a generous sup
ply OF terebinth bushes, one to two or three
feet in height, covered most of the sand
elevations and with them was a form of
sickly green salcolaecious plant. the exact
nature of which L was unable to discover
And If we can fully believe war illustra-
ton that has recently appeared from the
pencil of a staff correspondent, the same
feature must be a characteristic of the Sa-s
hara about Timbuctoo as well. There are
indeed. a number of spots where the vege-
tation is even more luxuriant-if a scatter
ing of plants can in any sense be called
Notwithstanding a number of dry
herbs, such as the rose of Jericho, which
hnrflItr vic faxx v,a1,o-
face and again there are large areas where
the vegetation has been completely
stamped out, or where 1T has been buried
beneath its canopy OF sand.
1t is the oasis that is the redeeming pearl
of the desert. No poetic temperament is
needed to prepare one for the enjoyments
of its coming. From miles of distance the
eye fastens itself upon the tree tops; the
dark green is a break in the landscape
seems to go and come. the gentle undula-
tons of the desert throwing it now and
again out of sight. We had penetrated but
moderate distance into the desert but
can hardly be describ ed-those dense groves
of date palms and the circulating streams
be to those who have YEARLY plodded its
sands for weeks at time. When we re-
turned to TO- Biskra a.. after ter. our southerly
palm forest Illuminating the sky with that
soft African yellow. which has been
Frere. The tall tree trunks rose against
this in Specter shadows of brown silent
nonOlithS rising if from silent grave.
An Arab group appeared here and there,
the flowing waters and the mosque asking
each to his special devotiCns.
THE TEMPERATURE.
The heat of the desert is an unquestion-
able reality. and yet, perhaps, in the
month Of our travel the hottest of the
North African months, it was not so
dreadful as might have been assumed. 1t
is true that the mercury, whether by night
or by day, felt little disposed to leave the
region of the ninety-eights unless it was
in the direction of an upward journey.
During the hours of midday it stubbornly
chung to the division line of ITO degrees
passing even beyond il slightly (although
perhaps not in he most perfect shade); at
BlSkra, during our brief absence, it stood
at ll6 degrees. In travelling, however, we
were subjected TO even a much higher tenn
perature, as, at rapidly recurring intervals,
sands We're as ii seemed, blown bodily into
US. 1t then that We remarked: This
is like an Oven." And in truth is was very
much so.
was surprised to sfind that there was a
difference OF only twenty degrees between
the heat of the open sun Q32 degrees) and
that OF the shade; the temperature OF the
sunny sands was at its highest 122~degrees
The excessive dryneSs made the heat per-
hapS on the whole, more bearable than If
the atmosphere had been in a measure
charged with humidity. at least such is a
well founded. Certain it is that excessive
perspiration has been largely reduced
thereby. On the other hand this extreme
ly dry heat brings to many partly suf-