THE SAHARA
“A Street Scene.”
From the Painting by A. Lamplough.
THE SAHARA
BY
PIERRE LOTI
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY
MARJORIE LAURIE
NEW YORK
BRENTANO’S
MCMXXI
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
THE DUNEDIN PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH
CONTENTS
| Introduction | 9 | |
| Part | I. | 20 |
| II. | 75 | |
| III. | 161 | |
INTRODUCTION
I
In your voyage down the west coast of Africa,after passing the southern extremity of Morocco,you sail for days and nights together past theshores of a never-ending land of desolation. It isthe Sahara, “the great sea without water,” to whichthe Moors have given also the name of “Bled-el-Ateuch,”the land of thirst.
These desert shores stretch for five hundred leagueswithout one port of call for the passing vessel, withoutone blade of grass, one sign of life.
Solitude succeeds solitude with mournful monotony;shifting sandhills, vague horizons—and theheat grows each day more intense.
At last there comes in sight over the sands an oldcity, white, with yellow palm trees set here andthere—it is St Louis on the Senegal, the capital ofSenegambia.
A church, a mosque, a tower, houses built inMoorish style—the whole seems asleep under theburning sun, like those Portuguese towns, St Pauland St Philip of Benguela, that once flourished onthe banks of the Congo.
As one draws nearer one sees with surprise that thistown is not built on the shore, that it has not even a[10]port, nor any direct means of communication withthe outer world. The flat, unbroken coast line is asinhospitable as that of the Sahara, and a ridge ofbreakers forever prevents the approach of ships.
Another feature, not visible from a distance, nowpresents itself in the vast human ant heaps on theshore, thousands and thousands of thatched huts,lilliputian dwellings with pointed roofs, and teemingwith a grotesque population of negroes. These arethe two large Yolo