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National Geographic : 1960 Jun
Contents
Algeria, France's Stepchild-Problem and Promise and giraffes and elephants roamed the pla teaus. Now, wherever you look in the Hoggar, you find the remains of a flourishing neo lithic culture: arrowheads, flint knives, pot tery, even fossils of fish. "The Tuareg are the poorest and the hap piest people in the world. I've been in their tents, and I envy them. If a chief passes by, they brew some tea; for a great chief they may even kill a camel and eat some meat. But day in and day out they're content with a cup of camel's milk and a handful of grain. Why? Because they have the only true liberty. They do as they please; they are the masters, not the slaves, of time." Camels Go Where Vehicles Can't I set out in a truck with Chief Sgt. Chris tian Couderc to get a taste of life in a Me hariste platoon. All day the truck pounded across the rocky Hoggar, winding between peaks twisted and distorted by some ancient volcanic agony. Once we passed a solitary Tuareg striding purposefully from nowhere to nowhere, a long wicked sword strapped at his side. Finally, at the gueltas of Issakaras sene, we rendezvoused with Sgt. Gaston Chev alier's 2d Platoon. This rocky basin, fed by infrequent rains, was typical of dozens scattered across the Hoggar. Issakarassene was a startling won derland of green bushes, nodding trees, and chirping birds. But the thing that enthralled me most was the discovery that here-in the middle of the Sahara-small fish were darting through cold, clear water. We formed a small caravan. Alternately riding and leading our camels, we threaded our way across the tortured terrain on the first leg of a wondrous odyssey (page 776). Twice daily we dined on the meat of freshly shot gazelles, together with macaroni spooned out of a common bowl. Evening brought tribal chants and dances by the platoon's Tuareg. It also brought tales of life-and near-death-in the Meharistes. "Every year," Chevalier said, "twenty or thirty nomads die of thirst in our district. In the hottest part of summer, a single day with out water can kill you. Last August we were in the Tassili-n-Ajjer when our water ran out. We spent a day searching for springs; finally, the troops began to collapse. As one of the Tuareg flopped down by a bush, he spotted jackal tracks. He followed them and there, not 20 yards away, was a tiny, hidden spring. Another hour and it would have been too late." Later, after the stories, we rolled into blankets and slept beneath the chill light of the Southern Cross, as a lone veiled sentry paced the perimeter of the camp. By day we visited other gueltas, and once stopped in the shade of a rock covered with carved giraffes, jackals, and lyre-horned cattle painstakingly chiseled by a Stone Age artist. Another time, crossing a dry stream bed, I picked up a chipped hand ax that had served some neolithic hunter. Finally, after days immersed in the lan guid rhythm of desert life, we left Sergeant Chevalier at Issakarassene. As our truck wheeled over a rise, he stood among his Me haristes-bronzed, barefoot, wearing a bur noose against the evening chill-to wave fare well. He would not see civilization for an other year or two. But, like the Tuareg, he had found freedom. Change, however, is overtaking even the changeless Sahara. Africa's first atomic weapon exploded this year above Algerian sands, and south of Reggan, French rockets scream the length of a secret range. Industry, too, is marching into the desert. Geologists have discovered a million tons of manganese ore in the Guettara Mountains, 100 miles south of Colomb Bechar. Southeast of Tindouf an immense vein of iron contains an estimated two billion metric tons of ore. Liquid Gas Destined for Europe Hassi R'mel's staggering 28 trillion cubic feet of natural gas will soon contribute to Algerian industrialization. In addition, a plant at Arzew will liquefy as much as 100 million cubic feet a day and ship it to Europe; Capt. Jacques-Yves Cousteau has surveyed the Mediterranean to determine the feasibility of a submarine gas pipeline. In September the 150 million tons of pe troleum reserves near Edjeleh will start to flow to the Gulf of Gabes in Tunisia. Already the mammoth 500 million tons found at Hassi Messaoud are pulsing 415 miles through a 24-inch pipeline to the port of Bougie. To the French Government, Hassi Mes saoud symbolizes the bright economic promise of the Sahara (page 782). There, more Lian 60 wells extract a crude oil so light that workers pour it directly into the tanks of their diesel trucks. Only four years ago, Hassi Messaoud-pro- 789
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