Narrative of travels and discoveries in Northern and Central Africa, in the years 1822, 1823, and 1824Denham, Dixon
History
Narrative of travels and discoveries in Northern and Central Africa, in the years 1822, 1823, and 1824
Denham, Dixon
Africa, Central -- Description and travel; Africa, North -- Description and travel; Natural history -- Africa, North
We had now been five days without rain; the thermometer was as
high as 89° in the middle of the day in the shade, and we began
to think summer was again coming. It may appear incredible, that
with such a temperature we should wish for an increase of heat;
but the dampness of the atmosphere, and the millions of flies and
musquitoes, beyond all conception, that accompanied it, rendered it
almost impossible to enjoy any thing like repose, either by day or
night. The annoyance of these insects I had experienced at Lisbon,
Naples, and in the other parts of Italy and Sicily, but neither in
numbers, nor in peace-disturbing powers, were they to be compared
with these. Towards the evening, a fire in the hut, made of damp
straw and weeds, was sometimes the means of procuring a few hours’
tranquillity; but the remedy was in itself so disagreeable, that
it was only resorted to in despair: a fire of this kind, however,
seldom fails to expel the intruders, from the thick and suffocating
vapours which arise from it.
The horses also suffered dreadfully from the same annoyance; and
to keep them from injuring themselves, wherever they can reach with
their teeth, the negroes are obliged to keep a fire the greater part
of the day, particularly at the hours of feeding, close to their
heads; and notwithstanding the natural dislike those animals have
to flames and smoke, they will hang their heads over the fire, so
as to suffer themselves to be all but scorched, in order to obtain
a little rest from their persecutors. Of scorpions we had seen but
few, but the white and black ants were like the sands in number: the
white ones made their way into every trunk, of whatever sort of wood
they were made, as if it had been paper. And on the late expedition,
during a halt of three days, in a spot where they were more than
usually numerous, a mat and a carpet on which I slept were completely
destroyed by them. They tell a story of an Arab having lain down to
sleep near old Birnie, just over a nest of these destructive insects,
covered up in a barracan, and that in the morning he found himself
quite naked, his covering having been eaten to the last thread. The
wooden supports of a sort of shade which I had erected in the front of
my hut, in a little more than three months these destructive insects
had perforated with so many millions of holes, as to reduce it to
a powder, and a new one was obliged to be placed in its room. The
black ant was no less persevering in attacks upon our persons; her
bite was nearly as bad as a scorpion, and so sharp as to excite an
involuntary exclamation from the sufferer; indeed, for weeks together,
my skin had, from these insects alone, more resembled that of a person
afflicted with the measle than any thing else that I can compare it
to. Oil, unfortunately, we had none, which is both a preventive and
a cure; the only substitute I could obtain was a little fat rubbed
over the body, and this seldom failed of giving me relief.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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