THE BASIXS OF THE SAHARA. 95 



many a day's journey apart from each other, break the 

 monotony of the desert. They might be compared with the 

 charming islands that stud the vast solitudes of the South Sea ; 

 but they do not appear, like them, as elevations over surround- 

 ing plains of sea, but as depressions, where animals and plants 

 find a sufficient supply of water, and a protection, not less 

 necessary, against the terrific blasts of the desert. 



A wonderful luxuriance of vegetation characterises these 

 oases of the wilderness. Under and between the date-palms, 

 grow apricot and peach trees, pomegranates and oranges, the 

 henna, so indispensable to Oriental beauty; and even the 

 apple-tree, the pride of European orchards. The vine twines 

 from one date-palm to another, and every spot susceptible of 

 culture produces corn, particularly dourrah or barley, and also 

 clover and tobacco. With a prudent economy the villages are 

 built on the borders of the oases on the unfruitful soil, so that 

 not a foot of ground susceptible of culture may be lost. 



The vast tracts of sterile sand, where not even the smallest 

 plant takes root, and which might be called the ' desert of tlie 

 desert,' present the greatest conceivable contrast to its green 

 oases. With the vegetable world the animal kingdom likewise 

 disappears, and for days the traveller pursues his journey with- 

 out meeting with a single quadruped, bird, or insect. All is soli- 

 tude and death in this awful wilderness, where, in the Bedouins' 

 poetical language, ' nothing exists but Allah ! ' Nowhere are the 

 transitions of light and shade more abrupt than in the desert, 

 for nowhere is the atmosphere more thoroughly free from all 

 vapours. The sun pours a dazzling light on the ground, so 

 that every object stands forth with wonderful clearness, while 

 all that remains in the shade is sharply defined, and appears 

 like a dark spot in the surrounding glare. 



These harsh contrasts between light and shade deprive the 

 landscape of all grace and harmony ; but this want is amply 

 compensated by its singular grandeur. The boundless horizon 

 and the silence which reigns over the whole scene, appeal with 

 powerful effect to the imagination, and thus constantly amuse 

 the mind amid scenery that presents so few objects to occupy 

 it. But in such a country every slight modification of form or 

 colour rivets observation : the senses are sharpened, and per- 

 ceptive faculties prone to grow dull over a perpetual shifting 



