ledged in Europe, the Rouar'a have been in the habit of boring simple artesian wells.

Their mode of operation is rude enough. The diameter of the well is about eighteen inches. A man is let down by ropes beneath his armpits, and scoops, with a rude instrument shaped like the fluke of an anchor, the soil beneath his feet; this he passes up in a small basket, and planks the sides of the well as he descends. When he finds the soil becoming black or moist he prepares for a sudden rush of water, fixes the planks, stuffs his ears and nostrils to prevent being suffocated, and at length by a stroke of his implement the jet is liberated, and he is hauled up with all speed along with the bursting liquid. Yet, so sudden and violent is the rush, that, according to the accounts of the natives, the workman is frequently drowned before he can escape.

These wells of course, in process of time, become choked and need frequent renewal. The diameter of the bore, especially towards the surface, is too great to ensure sufficient force for keeping the well clear, and the water often stands at the depth of a few feet below the surface. But the French have already commenced the sinking of iron tubes, under the direction of experienced engineers, with marvellous success; and judging from the wells already bored at Tamerna and at Temaçin, a single spring will supply water enough to convert a barren desert into an oasis capable of sustaining near a thousand souls.

But the very luxuriance produced by the supply of water has its fearful counterbalancing evils. About the middle of April, and again at the commencement of autumn, the African fever, called here the "Oukheum," breaks out in its most malignant form. No stranger dare at these epochs venture south of Biskra;

the very nomads quit the country; all who are not true swarthy Rouar'a, whether Jews or Arabs of the Sahara, Mozabites or natives of Souf, fly precipitately as soon as the ditches begin to assume a reddish tint, and the mosquitoes, called "Ouche Wache," begin to appear. No strangers, except the negro and the half-negro native of Touat, can survive. Even the aborigines do not escape unscathed, but, although with them the "Oukheum" is not generally fatal, the villages swarm with wretched objects, worn down to the last stage of attenuation as if by repeated attacks of ague. In the Sahara, according to the Arab proverb, "He who is not reaped by the sword, sees days without end;" or, according to the Frenchman, "In the Sahara you have health, but must perish of thirst; in the Oasis you have water to repletion, but must rot of fever."

If anything can aggravate the pestilential nature of the locality, it is the filthy ditches and stagnant pools with which, by way of fortification, each city is surrounded. Rank with vegetation, and choked with garbage, even in winter these fetid ponds emit exhalations which sicken the strongest stomach.

Just to the north of the Chott Melr'hir are a line of low hills, named the "Dour," or "turn," called the boundary between the land of sickness and the land of health. Tradition recounts how Sidi Okba, the hero of Biskra, when with his army he advanced to subjugate the Rouar'a, and to take possession of a territory whose riches were reputed inexhaustible, halted at this ridge. Before him lay the vast expanse of the Chott, glittering in the sunlight and magnified by the mirage, the image of a boundless sleeping ocean. Sidi Okba had already had three days' weary march. "Is it for this barren sea that Satan tempts me to abandon my palm-trees?" and

U

with a sigh he turned his horse; and the hill has borne the name of "Dour "-the turning-point-ever since.

Be this as it may, Roman and Turk alike learnt to respect the boundary of the Dour. Perhaps it will be happy for France, and happy for the Sahara, if a lust of barren conquest will permit the Empire to rest content with the nominal suzerainty she has already attained.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Starved out of Tuggurt — A refractory dragoman

- Zouïa

Temaçin - A Wed R'hir city -- Busy market-scene Solitary French officers A sublimated marabout - Royal and Imperial gifts - A misplaced cart-Warrior saint - A Bedouin dominie - Cheerful soldiers - Omar returns The priest's steward a valuable guide Weary desert ride- Solitary well - Breasting the sand-waves The hospitable khalifat - Magnificent reception - A night of plenty after a day of scarcity - Saharan's opinion of English and French religions — Dryness of Souf - Domed roofs - Female ornaments Market Purchases of silk — Gardening under diffi. culties Birds and beasts-Shooting at Souf.

Souf at last

WE had proposed to make Tuggurt our head-quarters for some time, but the French column had cleared the land like locusts, and their peaceful ravages left us not a sack of barley for our horses-not a carrot remained in the gardens. Our own store, of course, was exhausted. The Bey perhaps had not the means, certainly not the will, to assist us, so we determined to hoist sacks and move south at once.

But the attractions of Tuggurt were too great for our dragoman, and for two days he had buried himself in the recesses of the dancing cafés with which the place abounds. Consequently, the farrier of chasseurs had taken the opportunity of fixing three sets of worn-out shoes on our steeds; the saddler had receipted his bill, but forgotten the "réparation de selle;" our water-skins had become suddenly old and cracked; iron tentpickets were transformed into wood. A few days more and our campaigning properties had altogether vanished. Omar would not move, and as a last resource aped the agonies of toothache. We left our heavy goods in the

storehouse of the friendly Hungarian, who promised to procure camels and forward them and Omar by force of arms.

We rode on, I with only a single stirrup, to the next city of Temaçin, which we reached in two or three hours. One description suffices for all the Wed R'hir cities. First, a salt lake, very shallow, a labyrinth of mud-walls, palm-trees, and enclosures. Then a broad ditch, with filthy stagnant water, which surrounds and defends the city, whose nakedness is only partially hidden by a honeycombed mud-wall. Above and through this wall appears a chaos of edifices of sun-dried brick, ragged and dusty, pitched without design or order, crumbling in decay-much as though the city had descended from a sand-cloud and been sadly battered by the fall. A tall, square mosque-tower alone relieves the monotony, and a village is usually sprinkled over some sand-banks outside the walls.

As we rode through the suburb of Temaçin there was a busy concourse in the open space outside. It was market-day, and all the living beings of the neighbourhood, intelligent or otherwise, were gathered to the rendezvous. Men, women, camels, asses, dogs, goats, and children were grouped promiscuously with wares on the ground. An old negress presided over a variegated vegetable pyramid, with a yellow substratum of melons supporting a mass of alternate layers of cucumbers and pomegranates, crowned with an apex of crimson capsicums. A tame pied ostrich stalked through the crowd, evidently free of the city, and levying an octroi duty from each heap which pleased his eye, but rendering in return many a plume from his scanty garments to the indignant proprietors. An itinerant butcher was vociferating the juicy excellence of two headless gazelle