The Tomahawk., 1916-04-13
TRIPOLI, the highly-inflammable
land of Arab and Berber, has
exchanged it's peace-time in


exchanged it's peace-time in
Il dustries for the industry Of
var, and according to a statement pre-
pared by the National Geographic So
ciety, the newer industry adds little
to the normal hazard of Tripolitan
life.
Danger is the daily bread and meat
Of the dweller in Tripoli, and, in this
country f1ecked with occasional GASES
and fringed with narrow strips or
coastal vegetation, even the principal
aative pursuits for wealth and hap
piness are accompanied by hidden ter
.or and grave risk. The principal
sources of income to Tripolitans are
those of sponge gathering, of esparto
picking and of carrying OH the trans
saharan caravan trade.
Whether the native son seeks to
make his pile" searching the Shiny
bottom of the Mediterranean for
sponges, or gathering esparto grass In
the morning mists Of the desert. or fol-
lowing the caravan of a thousand cam
els back from the coast through 1900
miles Of Saharan desert to the distant
Sudan, he takes not only his labor
and capital for profit but also his
health and life. More often than not
he reaps disability or death as his
reward.
PeriIs Of Sponge Gatherers.
The wild seas that now and again
boil over the northern coast of Africa
are the smallest part of the sponge
divers hazard. Paralysis is always
Just ahead of this venturesome laborer
who, day by day making foolhardy
rapid ascents from the sea bed under
press of keen competition, sooner or
later experiences the return to ship
board in terrific dizziness, which forms
the usual prelude to partial or COM
plete paralysis. Strange as it may
seem, many partially-paralyzed divers
are able to continue their calling, and
the untitled, helpless cripple in the
upper air feels normal circulation re-
turn to arms and legs when lowered
into the sea on the sponge grounds.
And the Arab divers of Tripoli, believ-
ing the disease Indispensable to the
vocation, and Injured to hazard in their
peculiar fatherland, dive phlegmatic-
ally through few fat seasons until
crippled or killed by their chosen
trade.
Back in the plateau lands of the
Sahara, behind the coastal green's In
the silent, treeless, untenanted desert
wastes, where the alluring mystery of
the desert broods under the blighting
heat of day and beckons in fanciful
shapes over the dunes at night,
stretch vast fields of wiry esparto
grass, from which paper is manufac-
tured in great mills in England. In
these fields, working for the starvation
wage of twenty cents day or less,
picking the grass and tying it in large
bales to be loaded on camel trains for
Tripoli City, the port Of Tripolitania,
is another corps Of workers who adj
venture their safety in their work.
Picking the Esparto Grass.
Day begins for the espartO picker
in tho moonlight Of early morning. In
the chill of desert morning the picker
IcdVSS Hcdl Wy WI SiAI anyway
and begins his rapid task Of breaking
the longest wiry blades. leg high, from
the most matured clump. And in the
heart Of these clumps ever and again
turks his danger in the form Of his
arch enemy, the deadly viper. In the
clumps, also, arc hidden the venom
GUS North African rock scorpions,
whose stings now and again prove "a
tai. It is the poisonous vipers, how
ever, that make the work of esparto
picking a sporting game with death.
or the 100000 of export trade en-
joyed by Tripoli before the war. one
fifth of it was produced by the sponge
divers, more than one-third of it by
the esparto pickers and considerably
more than one-sixth was brought over
the wide, treacherous desert from the
Sudan. Many caravans, some or
few and some Of thousand camels, Mt
ted out in Tripoli, undertook the
danger-fraught journeys to the great
marts of Sudanese trade-Timbuktu
Kano, Kanen, Kuka, Bornu and Wad1.
These Journeys sometimes lasted two
years around, and brought their under
takers into every enecies OF danger
that the desert affords. Robbers in
fest all the lanes across the desert,
and, besides these, all the inner desert
lies subject to the vengeful caprice OF
the masked Tuaregs, the strange peo-
ple Who are at war with all who cross
their paths and do not pay SUFFICIENT
tribute.
The bones Of the camcls and meu Of