A FORBIDDEN CITY

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 4156, 1 May 1934, Page 2

A FORBIDDEN CITY

HOW THE FIRST WHITE MAN SAW SMARA A DISASTROUS JOURNEY On a September night in 1930, two brothers, Jean and Michel Vieuchange. arrived bv motor car at the bank of the River Massa, about twenty miles north of Tiznit, -in Southern Morocco, on what must rank as one of the craziest adventures of all time. Their faces were turned toward Sinara, the forbidden city in the Sahara Deseit, built in the dim ages when the great Ma el Ainin was at the zenith of Ins power. Never seen by white men, and almost legendary among the wandering tribes, it had lain deserted for years, but guarded with the zealousness of Arab fanaticism. The brothers had decided to tear the mantle of mystery from Smara, and now, after a year of planning, they were on the first stage of what they called their “raid.’ The whole strange project was, however, nothing but a tryst with the unknown. For Michel, who moves like one obsessed through the pages of the journal he made of this ghastly escapade had given up everything in life to satisfy a craving for the sight of the desert city. He had all that man could desire—-much learning, money, and apparently a brilliant future. But suddenly he resolved that life_ had (riven him all that was possible m his small sphere, and he searched tor some adventure that would bring hardship and great His mother, who had grown up with him m France, says that family, country, and religion became suffocating walls hemming Michel in. He could find no greater satisfaction than to scorn the things that were once pleasing, to ridicule the past, and to “ discard the substance of yesterday.” So he was to go to Smara alone, willingly offering his life as a sacrifice to the desert on the outskirts of which his brother, a doctor, was to hover and to wait, while the “ explorer ” found Smara—and a grave. . . . No natives could be found in the coastal regions who had ever seen Smara, so the guides were almost as much in the dark as was Michel. There was Ahmed el Mahboul, an Arab Figaro, debonair and proud as a peacock ; Chinbani, crafty and sullen; and, later, two desert sheiks who could be trusted only when a loaded rei ol\ er was pointed at them, and who almost murdered Michel when he was too weak from fever to defend himself. The 'first problem was to get into the country barring the way to Smara. To do this Vieuchange had to travel for ten days on foot and sometimes on a donkey, from north of Tiznit to Tigiht, disguised as a Berber woman. For an explorer he was scantily equipped. He took two watches, two compasses, two cameras, and some medicines apart from his notebooks and pencils. It was expected that the expedition would cost about £175 for the guides, rations, and other things, but mare was needed, for, once having handled the Frenchman’s money, the sheiks in the interior demanded more, and there were painful delays while messengers were sent back to Tiznit.

TORTURES OF THE DESERT. Crossing the desert to Tigilit, a town of native hovels, Michel experienced some of the tortures he was to undergo in worse form on the later stages through trackless wastes. The country was overrun by independent tribes, the essence of the law was to act before the other fellow, for nomadic bands wandered over the desert plundering caravans and relieving the monotony of murder by holding captives to ransom. As far as ligilit the guides were comparatively safe, for they were among their friends. But Michel was a problem, for had he been recognised as a white man nothing would have saved the whole party, which at first included two women. Being a man, el Mahboul rode one of the two donkeys, looking with slight scorn at Michel, who, shrouded in voluminous • cloaks and veils, plodded behind with the women. Sometimes when he could no longer struggle farther he was put on a donkey, but that was frowned on by the men, for Arab women always walk. One of the most amazing things about this adventure was that Vieuchange completed it without being able to speak more than a few words of the native tongue. Nor could el Mahboul, seemingly the one intelligent guide, talk with him. For weeks Vieuchange got on as best he could by using signs and reading the faces of his companions. This was a real danger on the way to Tigilit, for the travellers fell in with caravans and odd parties of raiders. Michel bad to remain closely veiled and silent, which was harassing when all the women on meeting chattered together apart from the men. Nor did it make things easier when his men became badtempered for some unknown .reason, and, by their sullen obstinacy, did their best to upset his plans or to torture him by refusing him water when he lay bleeding and exhausted on the sand. ... Nothing went right at Tigilit, and for ten days Michel crouched hidden in a small room full of vermin while his guides, now virtually his captors, argued about money, joined in tlfe festivities of the miserable community, or went with all the men of the town to kill a few raiders and capture their animals. All this time he fretted and nursed his fever-wracked body as best he could in the filth and the hot darkness, knowing that to go outside would bring death. At last the wrangling ended, and in the early hours of one morning he set out with camels and his guides on the march of 130 miles to Sinara. He was now allowed to travel as a man, but it would have been just as dangerous to have been seen. Seven clays later, after terrible hardships, they were back at Tigilit—befoot! The fellow actually baulked at penetrating to mysterious Sinara, and he declined to go on. The whole sorry process of hiding, wrangling, and fever was repeated for days at Tigilit until, the inducements at last being sufficient, another start was made. The horrors of this journey are de- j scribed vividly in the journal written at each halt, for, says Vieuchange, ho became too weak from fatigue, hunger, and illness to remember things if they were not recorded at once. They took an unfrequented route, and went through a desert that had had no rain

for eight years. They made forced marches, day and night, until the camels lay down with exhaustion and could not he moved for hours on end. So, as they could not be ridden, the men walked until they could walk no more. Approaching Sinara at the end of seven days, the guides feared marauders, and bundled Michel into a bag, which they stluing to a camel’s saddle. There lie stayed for hours, unable to move, with his head lower than his feet. He was set stiffly as in a mould when he was rolled on to the ground again. This was how he came to Sinara, but, despite the protests of the natives, he flung discretion to the winds when at last the city came into view.