As we advanced, on the 21st, along the plain between the granite
rocks--trees and flowers starting up thicker and thicker from the ground
to greet our approach--our guides told us that we were at length
entering the inhabited districts of the kingdom of Aheer, or Asben, as
it is indifferently called. This announcement at once substituted
pleasurable for uneasy sensations. We thought no more at all of pursuing
robbers, and gave ourselves up to the delight which always attends upon
difficulties vanquished. The name of the first district is Taghajeet. We
expected to behold groups of inhabitants coming joyfully to welcome us.
Our imaginations had adorned this country almost with the colours of
home. It was about one that we crossed the unmarked frontier. Still
there were rocks around, their angles softened away by trees; still wild
flowers mingled with the herbage on every side; the heavens were
clearing overhead, and the sun shed down a warm mantle of rays upon the
land; yet there were no signs of life. The silence that reigned, I know
not why, introduced ideas of terror into our minds, and we began to gaze
anxiously to the right and to the left. We remembered that this region,
likewise, was inhabited by Tuaricks, though not of the Haghar tribe.
They might be inhospitable, perhaps hostile. All the caravan, by
degrees, seemed to join in our uneasiness; and when at length, just
before we pitched our tent, the cry arose of "The Tuaricks! the Tuaricks
are coming!" it rose as a cry of warning and alarm.
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