Lippincotts Magazine, Vol. 22, September, 1878 | Page 4

mountainous

barrier of rugged rock. On advancing, however, a few steps farther, the
great jagged rocks, which appeared a compact mass, divide, and, like
the transformation-scene in a pantomime, the oasis of El Kantra, which
is situated immediately south of the pass, lies before you. The opening
is so narrow that it affords but room for the road and the stream, which
is crossed by a bridge of Roman construction, restored by the late
emperor Napoleon. It is therefore only when close upon it, when
actually within the pass, that you become aware of the singularly
beautiful scene beyond.[A]
[Illustration: OASIS OF EL KANTRA.]
On each side the great mountain-masses rise, picturesque, even
fantastic, in outline. The heights are inaccessible to any foot but those
of the goat and goatherd. We were astonished at seeing a troop of goats
wending their way upward, for to our eyes there seemed not even the
remotest trace of vegetation upon the rocks; and indeed the poor things
looked as if with them existence were truly "a struggle," out of which
little could be gained by natural selection.
Hungry as we were on arriving at El Kantra after our long ride, we
could scarcely take time to breakfast, but hurried on in advance of the
diligence to get our first view of the mysterious land beyond the
mountain-range. The stream which here descends from the hills to the
plain causes the desert, if not "to blossom like a rose," to become at this
point a rich and beautiful oasis. Here, for the first time, we saw the
date-palm in full luxuriance. In the neighborhood of Algiers there are
many fine trees, but the fruit never thoroughly ripens there.
For upward of a mile after passing through the mountain-gorge we
skirted the oasis. It is surrounded by a mud-built wall, and half hidden
among the palms we could discern the mud-built cottages and mosque
belonging to the Arab village. On the other side of our route we
observed a forest of upright stones, rough and unhewn. This was the
last resting-place of the people of the desert, and a sad and lonely sight
an Arab burial-place is, dreary even amid the utter desolation around.
Now and then as we advanced we met troops of camels with their

owners going north ward to the Tell, or cultivated lands, carrying with
them their wives and other goods and chattels. Or, again, we would
come upon the huge bleached carcass of one of those all-important
beasts of burden, which had fallen on one of its weary journeys and left
its bones to whiten upon the sand. Or we would see in the distance a
hyena or jackal prowling about in search of more recent dead.
Everything was so novel and strange to us that for a long time pleasure
and excitement prevented our yielding to, or even feeling, fatigue. As,
however, the day advanced and the heat became more and more
intolerable, as the glare blinded us and the dust half smothered us,
again our spirits sank and the pleasure of "this event in life" assumed a
doubtful hue. Even when the spirit is willing the flesh is weak, and we
were beginning to feel thoroughly worn out when the diligence pulled
up on the top of the range of hills which divides the Little Desert from
the Sahara proper.
At last we beheld it--the Great Desert! "The sea! how like the sea!" we
all exclaimed; and indeed there it lay like a vast expanse of calm ocean.
The slopes of the hills upon which we stood appeared like the shore,
and those distant black-gray spots surrounded by a seeming blue, so
wonderfully like islands in the ocean, were the oases of the Ziban,
encircled by the great sea of sand, the desert. It is a view never to be
forgotten--such light! such color! such calm loveliness!
Fatigue, discomfort, difficulties, all alike were forgotten; self seemed
lost in the magic of the scene; and it was with straining eyes and
beating hearts that we rattled down the declivity to Biskra, the largest,
richest and most important of this group of oases. But here again our
troubles commenced. This journey seemed fated to be, like the journey
of life itself, a series of ups and downs, calculated to fully exercise all
our strength and philosophy. It was no joke to find ourselves in the
desert, after a drive of fifteen hours, without a resting-place for our
wearied bodies or a dinner to restore our failing strength and spirits.
One hotel, we found, was indeed shut up, and in the other they had only
two close, wretched-looking rooms to offer us--one with two, and one
with three, beds. We were very reluctant to accept these; and, after all,

how could seven persons, a