TUNISIA

The origin of Tozeur is lost in the grey mists of
antiquity, since a site like this must have been
cultivated from time immemorial; the first
classical writer to mention the town is Ptolemy,
who calls it Tisouros ; on Peutinger's Tables it is
marked " Thusuro." The modem settlement has
wandered away from this ancient one which now
slumbers—together, maybe, with its hoary Egyp-
tian prototype—under high-piled mounds whereon
have arisen, since those days, a few mediaeval
monuments and crumbling maraboutic shrines
and houses of more modernT date, patched to-
gether with antique building blocks and fragments
of marble cornices : an island of sand and oblivion,
lapped by soft-surging palms.

They call it Bled-el-Adher nowadays, and this
is the place to spend the evening. I was there
yesterday, perhaps for the last time.

It exhales a soporific, world-forgotten fragrance.
There is no market here, no commercial or social
life, save a few greybeards discussing memories on
some doorstep ; the only mirthful note is a swarm
of young boys playing hockey on the sandheaps,
amid furious yells and scrimmages.

True hockey being out of the question on
account of the deep sand, they have invented a
variant, a simple affair : they arrange themselves
roughly into two parties, and the ball is struck
into the air with a palm branch from the one to
the other ; there, where it alights, a general rush
ensues to get hold of it, clouds of sand arising out
of a maze of intertwining arms and legs. The lucky
possessor is entitled to have the next stroke, and
the precision and force of their hitting is remark-
able ; they evidently do little else all day long.
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