XXXIX. EXPEDITION TO KÁNEM
Thursday, Sept. 11.—Having decided upon leaving the town in advance of the Arabs, in order to obtain leisure for travelling slowly the first few days, and to accustom my feeble frame once more to the fatigues of a continual march, after a rest of forty days in the town, I ordered my people to get my luggage ready in the morning. I had plenty of provisions, such as zummíta, dwéda or vermicelli, mohámsa, and nákia, a sort of sweetmeat made of rice with butter and honey; two skins of each quality. All was stowed away with the little luggage I intended taking with me on this adventurous journey, in two pairs of large leathern bags or kéwa, which my two camels were to carry. When all was ready, I went to the vizier, in order to take leave of him and arrange with my former servant, Mohammed ben Sʿad, to whom I owed thirty-five dollars. Háj Beshír, as usual, was very kind and amiable; but as for my former servant, having not a single dollar in cash, I was obliged to give him a bill upon Fezzán, for seventy-five dollars. There was also a long talk on the subject of an enormous debt due to the Fezzáni merchant Mohammed eʾ Sfáksi; and as it was not possible to settle it at once, I was obliged to leave its definite arrangement to Mr. Overweg.
All this disagreeable business, which is so killing to the best hours, and destroys half the energy of the traveller, had retarded my departure so long that the sun was just setting when I left the gate of the town. My little caravan was very incomplete; for my only companion on emerging from the gate into the high waving fields of Guinea-corn, which entirely concealed the little suburb, was an unfortunate young man whom I had not hired at all, my three hired servants having stayed behind on some pretext or other. This lad was Mohammed ben Áhmed, a native of Fezzán, whom I wanted to hire, or rather hired, in Gúmmel, in March last, for two Spanish dollars a month, but who, having been induced, by his companions in the caravan with which he had just arrived from the north, to forego the service of a Christian, had broken his word, and gone on with the caravan of the people from Sókna, leaving me with only one useful servant. But he had found sufficient leisure to repent of his dishonourable conduct, for, having been at the verge of the grave in Kanó, and being reduced to the utmost misery, he came to Kúkawa, begging my pardon, and entreating my compassion; and, after some expostulation, I allowed him to stay without hiring him, and it was only on seeing his attachment to me in the course of time, that I afterwards granted him a dollar a month, and he did not obtain two dollars till my leaving Zínder, in January 1853, on my way to Timbúktu, when I was obliged to augment the salary of all my people. This lad followed me with my two camels.
All was fertility and vegetation, though these fields near the capital are certainly not the best situated in Bórnu. I felt strengthened by the fresh air, and followed the eastern path, which did not offer any place for an encampment. Looking round, I saw at length two of my men coming towards us, and found to the left of the track, on a little sandy eminence, a convenient spot for pitching my tent. I felt happy in having left the monotony and closeness of the town behind me. Nothing in the world makes me feel happier than a wide, open country, a commodious tent, and a fine horse. But I was not quite comfortable; for, having forgotten to close my tent, I was greatly annoyed by the mosquitoes, which prevented my getting any sleep. The lake being very near, the dew was so heavy that next morning my tent was as wet as if it had been soaked with water.
Friday, Sept. 12.—Notwithstanding these inconveniences, I awoke in the morning with a grateful heart, and cared little about the flies, which soon began to attack me. I sat down outside the tent to enjoy my liberty: it was a fine morning, and I sat for hours tranquilly enjoying the most simple landscape (the lake not being visible, and scarcely a single tree in sight) which a man can fancy. But all was so quiet, and bespoke such serenity and content, that I felt quite happy and invigorated. I did not think about writing, but idled away the whole day. In the evening my other man came, and brought me a note from Mr. Overweg, addressed to me “in campo caragæ Æthiopiensis” (karága means wilderness).
Saturday, Sept. 13.—I decided late in the morning, when the dew had dried up a little, upon moving my encampment a short distance, but had to change my path for a more westerly one, on account of the large swampy ponds, formed at the end of the rainy season in the concavity at the foot of the sandhills of Dawerghú. The vegetation is rich during this season, even in this monotonous district. Having at length entered the corn, or rather millet-fields of Dawerghú, we soon ascended the sandhills, where the whole character of the landscape is altered; for, while the dum-bush almost ceases, the rétem, Spartium monospermum, is the most common botanical ornament of the ground where the cultivation of the fields has left a free spot, whilst fine specimens of the mimosa break the monotony of the fields. Having passed several clusters of cottages forming an extensive district, I saw to the right an open space descending towards a green sheet of water, filling a sort of valley or hollow where, a short time afterwards, when the summer harvest is over, the peculiar sort of sorghum called másakwá is sown. Being shaded by some fine acacias, the spot was very inviting, and, feeling already tired, sick and weak as I was, though after a journey of only two hours, I determined to remain there during the heat of the day. I had scarcely stretched myself on the ground, when a man brought me word that a messenger, sent by Ghét, the chief of the Welád Slimán, had passed by with the news that this wandering and marauding tribe had left Búrgu and returned to Kánem. This was very unpleasant news, as, from all that I had heard, it appeared to me that Búrgu must be an interesting country, at least as much so as Asben or Aír, being favoured by deep valleys and ravines, and living sources of fine water, and producing, besides great quantities of excellent dates, even grapes and figs, at least in some favoured spots.
The morning had been rather dull, but before noon the sun shone forth, and our situation on the sloping ground of the high country, overlooking a great extent of land in the rich dress of vegetable life, was very pleasant. There was scarcely a bare spot: all was green, except that the ears of the millet and sorghum were almost ripe, and began to assume a yellowish-brown tint; but how different is the height of the stalks, the very largest of which scarcely exceeds fifteen feet, from those I saw afterwards on my return from Timbúktu, in the rich valleys of Kébbi. Several Kánembú were passing by, and enlivened the scenery. When the heat of the sun began to abate, I set my little caravan once more in motion, and passed on through the level country, which in the simplicity of my mind I thought beautiful, and which I greatly enjoyed. After about an hour’s march, we passed a large pond or pool, situated to the left of the road, and formed by the rains, bordered by a set of trees of the acacia tribe, and enlivened by a large herd of fine cattle. Towards evening, after some trouble, we found a path leading through the fields into the interior of a little village, called Alairúk, almost hidden behind the high stalks of millet. Our reception was rather cold, such as a stranger may expect to find in all the villages situated near a capital, the inhabitants of which are continually pestered by calls upon their hospitality. But, carrying my little residence and all the comforts I wanted with me, I cared little about their treatment; and my tent was soon pitched in a separate courtyard. But all my enjoyment was destroyed by a quarrel which arose between my horseman and the master of the dwelling, who would not allow him to put his horse where he wished: my horseman had even the insolence to beat the man who had received us into his house. This is the way in which affairs are managed in these countries.
Sunday, Sept. 14.—After a refreshing night I started a little later than on the day previous, winding along a narrow path through the fields, where, besides sorghum, karás (Hibiscus esculentus) is cultivated, which is an essential thing for preparing the soups of the natives, in districts where the leaves of the kúka, or monkey-bread-tree, and of the hajilíj, or Balanites, are wanting; for though the town of Kúkawa has received its name from the circumstance that a young tree of this species was found on the spot where the Sheikh Mohammed el Kánemi, the father of the ruling sultan, laid the first foundation of the present town, nevertheless scarcely any kúka is seen for several miles round Kúkawa.
The sky was cloudy, and the country became less interesting than the day before. We met a small troop of native traders, with dried fish, which forms a great article of commerce throughout Bórnu; for, though the Kanúri people at present are almost deprived of the dominion, and even the use, of the fine sheet of water which spreads out in the midst of their territories, the fish, to which their forefathers have given the name of food (bú-ni, from bú, to eat), has remained a necessary article for making their soups. The fields in this part of the country were not so well looked after, and were in a more neglected state; but there was a tolerable variety of trees, though rather scanty. Besides prickly underwood of talhas, there were principally the hajilíj or bíto (Balanites Ægyptiaca), the selím, the kórna, the serrákh, and the gerredh or Mimosa Nilotica. Further on, a short time before we came to the village Kalíkágorí, I observed a woman collecting the seeds of an eatable Poa, called “kréb” or “kashá,” of which there are several species, by swinging a sort of basket through the rich meadow-ground. These species of grasses afford a great deal of food to the inhabitants of Bórnu, Bagírmi, and Wadáÿ, but more especially to the Arab settlers in these countries, or the Shúwa; in Bórnu, at least, I have never seen the black natives make use of this kind of food, while in Bagírmi it seems to constitute a sort of luxury even with the wealthier classes. The reader will see, in the course of my narrative, that in Máseñá I lived principally on this kind of Poa. It makes a light palatable dish, but requires a great deal of butter.
After having entered the forest and passed several small waterpools, we encamped near one of these, when the heat of the sun began to make itself felt. This district abounded in mimosas of the species called gerredh, úm-el-barka, or “kingar,” which affords a very excellent wood for saddles and other purposes, while the coals prepared from it are used for making powder. My old talkative, but not very energetic companion Bu-Zéd, was busy in making new pegs for my tent, the very hard black ground of Bórnu destroying pegs very soon, and in the meantime, assisted by Hosén ben Hár, gave me a first insight into the numerous tribes living in Kánem and round the Bahar el Ghazál. The fruits of the gerredh, which in their general appearance are very like those of the tamarind-tree, are a very important native medicine, especially in cases of dysentery; and it is, most probably, to them that I owed my recovery when attacked by that destructive disease during my second stay in Sókoto in September 1854. The same tree is essential for preparing the water-skins, that most necessary article for crossing the desert. The kajíji was plentiful in this neighbourhood. The root of this little plant, which is about the size of a nut, the natives use in the most extensive way for perfuming themselves with.
Late in the afternoon we continued our journey through the forest, which was often interrupted by open patches. After having pursued the path for some miles, we quitted it, and travelled in a more easterly direction through a pleasant hilly country, full of verdure, and affording pasturage to a great many cattle; for the Kánembú, like the Fúlbe, go with their herds to a great distance during certain seasons of the year, and all the cattle from the places about Ngórnu northwards is to be found in these quarters during the cold season. But not being able to find water here, we were obliged to try the opposite direction, in order to look for this element so essential for passing a comfortable night. At length, late in the evening, traversing a very rugged tract of country, we reached the temporary encampment, or berí, of a party of Kánembú with their herds, whilst a larger berí was moving eastward. Here also we were unable to find water, and even milk was to be got but sparingly.
Monday, Sept. 15.—Before we were ready to move, the whole nomadic encampment broke up, the cattle going in front, and the men, women, and children following with their little households on asses. The most essential or only apparatus of these wandering neatherds are the tall sticks for hanging up the milk to secure it; the “sákti” or skins for milk and water, the calabashes, and the kórió. The men are always armed with their long wooden shields, the “ngáwa fógobe,” and their spears, and some are most fantastically dressed, as I have described on a former occasion. After having loaded our camels, and proceeded some distance, we came to the temporary abode of another large herd, whose guardians at first behaved unfriendly, forbidding our tasting a drop of their delicious stuff; but they soon exchanged their haughty manners for the utmost cordiality when Mʿadi, an elder brother of Fúgo ʿAlí, our friend in Maduwári, recognized me. He even insisted on my encamping on the spot, and staying the day with him; and it was with difficulty that he allowed me to pursue my march, after having swallowed as much delicious milk as my stomach would bear. Further on we joined the main road, and found to the left of it a handsome pool of muddy water, and filled two skins with it. Certainly there is nothing worse for a European than this stagnant dirty water; but during the rainy season, and for a short time afterwards, he is rarely able to get any other.
Soon after, I had another specimen of the treatment to which the natives are continually exposed from the king’s servants in these countries; for, meeting a large herd of fine sheep, my horseguard managed to lay hold of the fattest specimen of the whole herd, notwithstanding the cries of the shepherd, whom I in vain endeavoured to console by offering him the price of the animal. During the heat of the day, when we were encamped under the scanty shade of a few gáwo, my people slaughtered the sheep; but, as in general, I only tasted a little of the liver. The shade was so scanty, and the sun so hot, that I felt very weak in the afternoon when we went on a little.
Tuesday, Sept. 16.—I felt tolerably strong. Soon after we had started, we met a great many horses which had been sent here for pasturage, and then encountered another fish kafla. My horseman wanted me all at once to proceed to the town of Yó, from whence he was to return; and he continued on without stopping, although I very soon felt tired, and wanted to make a halt. The country, at the distance of some miles south from the komádugu, is rather monotonous and barren, and the large tamarind-tree behind the town of Yó is seen from such a distance that the traveller, having the same conspicuous object before his eyes for such a length of time, becomes tired out before he reaches it. The dúm-palm is the principal tree in this flat region, forming detached clusters, while the ground in general is extremely barren.
Proceeding with my guardian in advance, we at length reached the town, in front of which there is a little suburb; and being uncertain whether we should take quarters inside or outside, we entered it. It consisted of closely packed streets, was extremely hot, and exhaled such an offensive smell of dried fish, that it appeared to me a very disagreeable and intolerable abode. Nevertheless we rode to the house of the shitíma, or rather, in the full form, Shitíma Yóma (which is the title the governor bears), a large building of clay. He was just about taking another wife; and large quantities of corn, intended as provision for his new household, were heaped up in front of it.[81] Having applied to his men for quarters, a small courtyard with a large hut was assigned to us in another part of the town, and we went there; but it was impossible for me to make myself in any way comfortable in this narrow space, where a small gáwo afforded very scanty shade. Being almost suffocated, and feeling very unwell, I mounted my horse again and hastened out of the gate, and was very glad to have regained the fresh air. We then encamped about six hundred yards from the town, near a shady tamarind tree; and I stretched my feeble limbs on the ground, and fell into a sort of lethargy for some hours, enjoying a luxurious tranquillity; I was so fatigued with my morning’s ride, that I thought with apprehension on what would become of me after my companions had joined me, when I should be obliged to bear fatigue of a quite different description.
As soon as I felt strong enough to rise from my couch, I walked a few paces in order to get a sight of the river or “komádugu.” It was at present a fine sheet of water, the bed entirely full, “tsimbúllena,” and the stream running towards the Tsád with a strong current; indeed, I then scarcely suspected that on another occasion I should encamp for several days in the dry bed of this river, which, notwithstanding the clear and undoubted statements of the members of the former expedition with regard to its real character, had been made by Captain W. Allen to carry the superfluous waters of the Tsád into the Kwára. The shores of the komádugu near this place are quite picturesque, being bordered by splendid tamarind-trees, and “kínzim,” or dúm-palms, besides fine specimens of the acacia tribe on the northern shore. At the foot of the tamarind-trees a very good kind of cotton is grown, while lower down, just at this season of the year, wheat is produced by irrigating regularly laid out grounds by way of the shadúf or “lámbuna.” Cotton and small quantities of wheat are the only produce of this region, besides fish and the fruit of the Cucifera or dúm-palm, which forms an essential condiment for the “kunú,” a kind of soup made of Negro millet; for the place is entirely destitute of any other Cerealia, and millet and sorghum are grown only to a small extent. Cattle also are very scarce in Yó; and very little milk is to be procured. Fish is the principal food of the inhabitants, of which there are several very palatable species in the river, especially one of considerable size, from eighteen to twenty inches long, with a very small mouth, resembling the mullet.
I saw also a specimen of the electric-fish, about ten inches long, and very fat, which was able to numb the arm of a man for several minutes. It was of an ashy colour on the back, while the belly was quite white; the tail and the hind fins were red. Mr. Overweg made a slight sketch of one.
During the night a heavy gale arose, and we had to fasten the ropes attached to the top of the pole; but the storm passed by, and there was not a drop of rain; indeed the rainy season, with regard to Bórnu, had fairly gone by.
Wednesday, Sept. 17.—Enjoyed in the morning the scenery and the fresh air of the river. Men were coming to bathe, women fetching water, and passengers and small parties were crossing the river, swimming across with their clothes upon their heads, or sitting on a yoke of calabashes with the water up to their middle. A kafla or “karábka” of Tébu people from Kánem had arrived the day before, and were encamped on the other side of the river, being eager to cross; but they were not allowed to do so till they had obtained permission; for, during several months, this river or valley forms annually a sort of quarantine line, whilst, during the other portion of the year, small caravans, at least, go to and fro at their pleasure.
The only boat upon the water was a mákara, formed by several yokes of calabashes, and of that frail character described by me in another part of this work, in which we ourselves were to cross the river. Unfortunately it was not possible to enjoy quietly and decently the beautiful shade of the splendid tamarind-trees, on account of the number of waterfowl and pelicans which reside in their branches.
On removing some of my luggage, I found that the white ants were busy destroying, as fast as possible, my leather bags and mats; and we were accordingly obliged to remove everything, and to place layers of branches underneath. There are great numbers of ants hereabouts; but only moderately sized ant-hills are seen; nothing like the grand structures which I afterwards saw in Bagírmi.
Thursday, Sept. 18.—About two hours after midnight Mr. Overweg arrived, accompanied by one of the most conspicuous of the Welád Slimán, of the name of Khálef-Allah, announcing the approach of our little troop; which did not, however, make its appearance until ten o’clock in the morning, when the most courageous and best mounted of them galloped up to my tent in pairs, brandishing their guns. There were twenty-five horsemen, about a dozen men mounted upon camels, and seven or eight on foot, besides children. They dismounted a little to the east of our tents, and formed quite an animated encampment; though of course quarrels were sure to break out soon.
Feeling a little stronger, I mounted with my fellow-traveller in the afternoon, in order to make a small excursion along the southern shore of the river, in a westerly direction. The river, in general, runs from west to east; but here, above the town, it makes considerable windings, and the shore is not so high as at the ford. The vegetation was beautiful; large tamarind-trees forming a dense shade above, whilst the ground was covered with a great variety of plants and herbs just in flower. On the low promontories of the shore were several small fishing villages, consisting of rather low and light huts made of mats, and surrounded by poles for drying the fish, a great many of which, principally of the mullet kind, were just suspended for that purpose. Having enjoyed the aspect of the quiet river-scenery for some time, we returned round the south side of the town. The ground here is hilly; but I think the hills, though at present covered with verdure, are nothing more than mounds of rubbish formed in the course of time round the town, which appears to have been formerly of greater extent.
Friday, Sept. 19.—Overweg and I, accompanied by Khálef-Allah and a guide, made an excursion down the river, in order, if possible, to reach its mouth; but the experiment proved that there is no path on the southern shore, the track following the northern bank: for on that side, not far from the mouth, lies a considerable Kánembú place called Bóso, though, in the present weak state of the Bórnu kingdom, much exposed to the incursions of the Tuarek. Having penetrated as far as a village, or rather a walled town, named Fátse, the walls of which are in a decayed state, and the population reduced to a dozen families, we were obliged to give up our intended survey of the river. As for myself, I was scarcely able to make any long excursion; for on attempting to mount my horse again, I fainted, and fell senseless to the ground, to the great consternation of my companions, who felt convinced my end was approaching. We therefore returned to our encampment. In the evening I had a severe attack of fever.
Saturday, Sept 20.—It had been determined the day before that we should cross the river to-day, and the governor’s permission had been obtained; but as the vizier’s messenger had not yet arrived, we decided upon waiting another day. Feeling a little better, I made a rough sketch of the town, with the dúm-palms around it, and prepared myself, as well as I was able, for the fatiguing march before me. We had a good specimen to-day of the set of robbers and freebooters we had associated with in order to carry out the objects of the mission. The small Tébu caravan, which I mentioned above as having arrived from Kánem, and which had brought the news that the people of Wadáÿ had made an alliance with all the tribes hostile to the Welád Slimán, in order to destroy the latter, had not been allowed to cross the river until to-day. They were harmless people, carrying very little luggage (chiefly dates) upon a small number of oxen; but as soon as they had crossed, our companions held a council, and, the opinion of the most violent having gained the upper hand, they fell upon the poor Tébu, or Kréda, as they call them, and took away all their dates by force. The skins were then divided: and the greater part of them had already been consumed or carried away, when an old Arab arrived, and, upbraiding his companions with their mean conduct, persuaded them to collect what remained, or that could be found, and restore it to the owners. In the evening the vizier’s messenger arrived, and the crossing of the river was definitely fixed for the next day.
Monday, Sept. 22.—Rose early, in order to get over in time, there being no other means of crossing than two mákara, each consisting of three yokes of calabashes. The camels, as is always the case, being the most difficult to manage, had to cross first; and after much trouble and many narrow escapes (owing principally to the unevenness of the bottom of the valley, the water channel having formed a deep hollow—at present from ten to eleven feet deep—near the southern shore, while in the middle the bottom rises considerably, leaving a depth of only six or seven feet) they all got safely over, and were left to indulge in the foliage of the beautiful mimosas which embellish the northern border of the river. The horses followed next, and lastly we ourselves with the luggage.
About nine o’clock in the morning I found myself upon the river on my three-yoked “mákara,” gliding through the stream in a rather irregular style of motion, according as the frail ferry-boat was drawn or pushed by the two black swimmers yoked to it. It was a beautiful day, and the scenery highly interesting; but, having been exposed to the sun all the morning, I was glad to find a little shade. When all the party had successively landed, and the heat of the day had abated, we loaded our camels and commenced our march. We were now left entirely to the security and protection which our own arms might afford us; for all the country to the north of the komádugu has become the domain of freebooters, and though nominally Sheikh ʿOmár’s dominion stretches as far as Berí, and even beyond that place, nevertheless his name is not respected here, except where supported by arms.
The country through which we were passing bore the same character as that for some miles round the capital; a very stiff, black soil, clothed with short grass and a few trees far between. Having encountered a flock of sheep, our friends gave chase; and after they had laid hold of three fat rams, we decided to encamp.
Tuesday, Sept. 23.—For the first four hours of our march the character of the surrounding country remained nearly the same; it then opened, and became better cultivated; and soon after we saw the clay walls of Báruwa, though scarcely to be distinguished, owing to the high mounds of rubbish imbedding them on all sides. Near the south-west gate of the town the road leads over the high mound (which destroys entirely the protection the wall might otherwise afford to the inhabitants), and lays its whole interior open to the eyes of the traveller. It consists of closely packed huts, generally without a courtyard, but shaded here and there by a mimosa or kúrna, and affords a handsome specimen of a Central African dwelling-place. The inhabitants, whose want of energy is clearly seen from the nature of the mounds, do not rely upon the strength of their walls; and to the disgrace of the sheikh of Bórnu, who receives tribute from them, and places a governor over them, they likewise pay tribute to the Tuarek. They belong in general to the Kánembú tribe; but many Yédiná, or Búdduma, also are settled in the town. Their principal food and only article of commerce is fish, which they catch in great quantities in the lake, whose nearest creeks are, according to the season, from two to three miles distant, and from which they are not excluded, like the inhabitants of Ngórnu and other places, on account of their friendly relations with the warlike pirates of the lake. As for corn, they have a very scanty supply, and seem not to employ the necessary labour to produce it, perhaps on account of the insecure state of the country, which does not guarantee them the harvest they have sown. Cotton they have none, and are obliged to barter their fish for cotton strips or articles of dress. Indeed, gábagá or cotton strips, and kúlgu or white cotton shirts, are the best articles which a traveller, who wants to procure fish for his desert journey by way of Bilma (where dry fish is the only article in request), can take with him.
At the well on the north side of the town, which does not furnish very good water, the horsemen belonging to our troop awaited the camels. Only a few scattered hajilíj (Balanites Ægyptiaca) and stunted talha-trees spread a scanty shade over the stubble-fields, which were far from exhibiting a specimen of diligent cultivation; and I was very glad when, having taken in a small supply of water, we were again in motion. We soon left the scanty vestiges of cultivation behind us, and some bushes of the siwák (Capparis sodata) began to enliven the country. At eleven o’clock, having mounted a low range of sand-hills, we obtained a first view of the Tsád, or rather of its inundations. The whole country now began to be clothed with siwák. Having kept for about half-an-hour along the elevated sandy level, we descended, and followed the lower road, almost hidden by the thickest vegetation. This lower road, as well as our whole track to Ngégimi, became entirely inundated at a later period (in 1854), and will perhaps never more be trodden: in consequence, when I came this way in 1855 we were obliged to make a circuit, keeping along the sandy level nearer to the site of the ancient town of Wúdi.
Shortly afterwards we encamped, where the underwood had left a small open space, at the eastern foot of a low hill. The prickly jungle was here so dense that I searched a long time in vain for a bare spot to lie down upon, when, to my great satisfaction, I found Bú-Zéd clearing me a place with his axe. The swampy shore of the lake was only about four hundred yards from our resting-place; but the spot was not well chosen for an encampment, and it was found necessary to place several watches during the night, notwithstanding which, a skin of mine, full of water, disappeared from the stick upon which it was suspended, and the Arabs tried to persuade me that a hungry hyæna had carried it off; but it was most probable that one of themselves had been in want of this necessary article of desert travelling.
Wednesday, Sept. 24.—We continued our march through the luxuriant prickly underwood, full of the dung and footsteps of the elephant. Here and there the capparis had been cut away, and large fireplaces were to be seen, where the roots had been burnt to ashes. The tripods, of which several were lying about, are used for filtering the water through these ashes, which takes from them the salt particles which they contain. This water is afterwards boiled, and thus the salt obtained. This salt is then taken to Kúkawa by the Kánembú whilst those who prepare it are Búdduma.
On our return from Kánem we met large numbers of this piratical set of islanders; and on my home journey in 1855, I saw them in the full activity of their labours. This salt, weak and insipid as it is, is at least of a better quality than that which the people in Kótoko prepare from neat-dung. In Míltu, on the Upper Shári, or Bá-busó, salt of a tolerable quality is obtained from a peculiar species of grass growing in the river. The Músgu, as we shall see, prepare this necessary article (or at least something like it) from the ashes of the stalks of millet and Indian corn.
After we had emerged from the underwood into the open country, we passed a considerable salt manufactory, consisting of at least twenty earthen pots. Large triangular lumps of salt were lying about, which are shaped in moulds made of clay. Several people were busy carrying mud from an inlet of the lake which was close at hand, in order to make new moulds. Keeping close along the border of the latter, and enjoying the fresh breeze which had before been kept from us by the forest, we halted early in the afternoon. A small Tébu caravan was also encamped here, no doubt with the intention of passing the night; but they did not like the neighbourhood of our friends, and, loading immediately, started off.
Our path now lay through fertile pasture-grounds, with a line of underwood to our left. It was a fine cool morning. We passed a large pool of fresh water, frequented by great numbers of waterfowl of various species. Overweg, on his fine and tall, but rather heavy and unwieldy charger, made an unsuccessful attempt to overtake a pair of kelára (Antilope Arabica? Aigocerus ellipsiprymnus?), who scampered playfully away through the fine grassy plain. At nine o’clock we reached the far-famed place Ngégimi, and were greatly disappointed at finding an open, poor-looking village, consisting of detached conical huts, without the least comfort, which, even in these light structures, may well be attained to a certain degree. The hungry inhabitants would not receive anything in exchange for a few fowls which we wanted to buy, except grain, of which we ourselves, in these desolate regions, stood too much in need to have given it away without an adequate substitute.
The situation of this place is very unfavourable, since the ruler of Bórnu has restricted his real dominion within the border of the komádugu, and the poor inhabitants are constantly in fear of being molested by a ghazzia of the Tuarek. Indeed, two years later, this village was plundered by these freebooting hordes; and some months afterwards, in the year 1854, the remainder of the population, who had not been carried away into captivity, were obliged, by the high floods of the lagoon, to leave their old dwelling-place altogether, and build a new village on the slope of the sand-hills, where I found it at the end of May 1855. As for Wúdi (a large place, once an occasional residence of the Bórnu kings) and Lári, both mentioned by Denham and Clapperton, they have long been deserted, Wúdi having been taken and ransacked by the Tuarek in the year 1838, and Lári a little later. At present only a few palm-trees (said to yield a kind of date far superior to the little black Kánem dates) in the sand-hills about eight miles south-west from Ngégimi, indicate the site of the once celebrated Wúdi. Ngégimi was then nominally under the control of Kashélla Hasen or Hassan.
Plunged into sad reflections on the fate of this once splendid empire of Kánem, and the continued progress of the Berber race into the heart of Sudán, I hung listlessly upon my horse, when, on leaving this uncomfortable dwelling-place, we took our course over the unbroken plain, once no doubt the bottom of the lake, and soon to become once more a part of it. Sometimes it was dry and barren, at others clothed with rich verdure, while on our left it was bordered by a range of sand-hills, the natural limit of the lagoon. At a little before noon we came to a deep inlet of the lake, spreading the freshest verdure all around in this now desolate country. Having watered our horses, and taken in a sufficient supply of this element for the night, we crossed the plain, here not more than a thousand yards wide, and ascended a broad promontory of the range of sand-hills, where we encamped.
It was a delightful spot, where the heart might have expanded in the enjoyment of freedom. In front of us to the south-east, the swampy lands of the lagoon, one immense ricefield (as it ought to be at least), spread out to the borders of the horizon; but no “white water,” or open sea, was to be seen, not even as much as connected channels, nothing but one immense swampy flat, stretching out as far as the eye could reach. To the south the green pasturages, along which we had come, extended far beyond Ngégimi. It was a picture of one of the most fertile spots of the earth doomed to desolation. But there was a feeble spark of hope in me that it would not always be so; and I flattered myself that my labours in these new regions might contribute to sow here the first germs of a new life, a new activity.
My companions and friends did not seem to share in my feelings: for, wholly intent upon mischief, they had been roving about, and having fallen in with some Kánembú cattle-breeders, they had plundered them not only of their milk, but also of the vessels which contained it; and in the afternoon some respectable old men applied to Mr. Overweg and myself, the only just people they were sure to find amongst this wild band of lawless robbers, for redress, and we were happy, not only to restore to them their vessels, but also to make them a few small presents.
Thursday, Sept. 25.—Descending from our lofty encampment, we continued our march in the narrow grassy plain, between the sand-hills to the north, and another blue inlet of the lake to the south, where the rich pasture-grounds extended further into the lake. It was about seven o’clock in the morning when we had the good fortune to enjoy one of the most interesting scenes which these regions can possibly afford. Far to our right was a whole herd of elephants, arranged in regular array, like an army of rational beings, slowly proceeding to the water. In front appeared the males, as was evident from their size, in regular order; at a little distance followed the young ones; in a third line were the females; and the whole were brought up by five males of immense size. The latter (though we were at some distance, and proceeding quietly along) took notice of us, and some were seen throwing dust into the air; but we did not disturb them. There were altogether ninety-six.
The fine fresh pasture-grounds some time afterwards gave way to a drier plain, covered with a species of heath, and the country presented rather a melancholy appearance. A little before ten o’clock we came to a large herd of cattle or “berí,” collected round a small hamlet or dawar, consisting of light, high-topped huts of corn-stalks, fastened together by three rings of straw, and lightly plastered with a little cowdung. But although we obtained some milk, some of our friends, not content with filling their stomachs, laid hold of a fine pony and carried it off, under the pretext that it belonged to the Búdduma, who, as they asserted, were the enemies of the sheikh; and when we had started again, and encountered a small caravan of oxen laden with dates, not only were all the skins containing the dates taken, but another ruffian laid hold of one of the beasts of burden and dragged it away with him, notwithstanding the lamentations of its owner. And yet the people who were thus treated were subjects of the king of Bórnu, and the Welád Slimán were his professed friends and hirelings.
Fine fresh pasture-grounds, and melancholy tracts clothed with nothing but heath, succeeded each other, whilst not a single tree broke the monotony of the level country. At length we encamped near a deserted village of cattle-breeders, consisting of about twenty small conical huts, built in the form of a large circle. We had scarcely begun to make ourselves comfortable, when a noisy quarrel arose about the dates so unjustly taken from their owners, and some of the Arabs concerned in the dispute came to my tent in order to have their claims settled, when the whole particulars of the shameless robberies committed in the course of the day, came under my notice, and especially that of the horse. But this was a delicate subject, and one that excited the angry passions of those concerned—so much so that one of them, named Ibrahím, came running with his loaded gun straight into my tent, threatening to blow out the brains of anybody who spoke of injustice or robbery. As for Bakhér, and ʿAbd eʾ Rahmán, who were the actual possessors of the horse, they were about to leave by themselves.
The violent proceedings of our protectors had spread such terror throughout these almost desolate regions, that in the evening, solely from fear, two oxen and a quantity of milk were sent from a neighbouring berí as presents. The night was fresh, but not cold, and a very heavy dew fell.
Friday, Sept. 26.—Reached about noon the first large cluster of huts of the village of Berí, after having followed a very numerous and fine herd of cattle (one of the finest I saw in the interior of the continent) for awhile, with the urgent desire of obtaining a drink of fresh milk, and then crossed a tolerably deep inlet of the lagoon. Here we encamped on a terribly hot sandy spot, without any shade, some two hundred yards from the village, which stretches in a long line from north to south.
Berí is a place of importance, at least since the date of the greatest splendour of the Bórnu kingdom, and is frequently mentioned in the history of the great king Edrís Alawóma, written during his lifetime by his chief Imám Ahmed. Its situation is such as to render it of great importance as a station; for here the army proceeding from Bórnu to the interior of Kánem leaves the shore of the lagoon, and has generally to make a long stay, in order to regain strength for the ensuing march, and to supply itself with fresh provisions. Till a few years previously, a Bórnu governor of the name of Shitíma Aba had been residing here; but he had given up the place, and preferred living in the capital.
But here I must add, that there are two places called Berí, distant from each other a few miles, the one where we were encamped being called Berí-kurá, the Great Berí, the other with the surname “futé” (the western), from its more westerly situation; but it is at present greatly reduced, and we had left it unobserved on one side. The greater part of the inhabitants of Berí are Kánembú, and belong to the clan of the Sugúrti, a large division of that tribe, which, however, in the last struggle of the old dynasty, suffered greatly. Besides these, a good many Búdduma are settled here.
I was very glad when, after another severe quarrel, the young horse was at length given up by the robbers, as likewise the beast of burden. One of the oxen sent yesterday as a present was slaughtered to-day, and divided amongst the whole band. As for myself, I made merry on a little fresh milk; for though the people are, and appear to have been from their birth (for “berí” means cattle-herd), in possession of numerous herds of cattle, nevertheless, in the village, as is often the case, there is very little milk—only just as much as is required for the use of the owners themselves—the cattle being at a great distance. Very little can be obtained here, and corn is scarcely cultivated, owing to the insecure and desperate state of the country. The inhabitants are in continual intercourse with the Yédiná, that section of the Kótoko who inhabit the islands in the lake, and who are generally called Búdduma. But of course the distance of their village from the lagoon varies considerably; and the nearest branch or inlet at present was that which we had crossed in the morning, and from which the inhabitants supplied themselves with water. The want of firewood is greatly felt; scarcely a single tree is to be met with in the neighbourhood.
Saturday, Sept. 27.—We now left the shores of the lake, ascending a little, but had a difficult march this morning in order to avoid the many small boggy inlets and natron-lagoons which are formed by the lake, and wind along through the sand-hills. With regard to these natron-lakes, which, after the report of Major Denham, have led to many erroneous conjectures respecting Lake Tsád, I have to observe that the natron or soda is not originally contained in the water, but in the ground, and that all the water of Lake Tsád is fresh; but when a small quantity of water, after the lake has retired from the highest point of its inundation, remains in a basin the soil of which is filled with soda, the water of course becomes impregnated with this quality. The consequence is, that there are many basins round Lake Tsád which, according to the season, are either fresh or brackish; for the soda contained in the ground has very little effect so long as the basin is deep, and does not begin to make itself felt till the water becomes shallow. Of this same character seems to be Lake Bóro in Kánem, which I shall mention hereafter. I here remind the reader of what I have stated above with regard to the importance of the natron-trade between Bórnu and Núpe or Nýffi.
Having no guide—for who would willingly trust himself in the hands of such lawless robbers as our companions?—we found it rather difficult work to get out of this labyrinth of lagoons; and after a few miles we came to a narrow but very boggy inlet, which it was thought necessary to cross.
Riding a lively horse, an excellent “sayár,” I was rather in advance, and had only three horsemen in front of me; on coming to the bog, the nature of which it was easy to perceive, we rode one after the other,—Khálef-Allah being in front of me. The first horseman went in, made a few steps, and then came down; but he got his horse upon his legs again, went on, and again sunk into the bog, but being near the firm ground, got over tolerably well. As soon as those who were before me saw this they stopped their horses short, and wanted to return, pressing my horse upon his side, who, being annoyed by the morass, made a vacillating movement forward, and fell upon his knees; upon being raised he made some wild exertions to get through, but after two or three ineffectual attempts, he again fell on his side, and I under him. The morass here was about four feet deep; and I received several smart blows from the forelegs of my horse, upon the head and shoulders, before I was fortunate enough to extricate myself from this interesting situation. Being clad in a white bernús over a Nýffi tobe, with a pair of pistols in my belt, my appearance may be easily conceived when, after a great deal of labour, I succeeded in reaching firm ground. I had still the difficult task of extricating my horse, which, after wild and desperate exertions, lay motionless in the bog. I had on this occasion a good specimen of the assistance we were likely to receive from our companions in cases of difficulty; for they were looking silently on without affording me any aid. Mr. Overweg was some distance behind, and, when he came up, was enabled to supply me with dry clothing.
The spot would have been quite interesting but for this accident, as there was here, favoured by the rich soil and this very morass, a beautiful plantation of red ngáberi or sorghum, of that peculiar kind called mósogá, or rather, másakwá, in the highest state of exuberance, and just beginning to ripen; it was the finest specimen I saw on my whole journey. Fortunately the sun was moderately warm, as I began to feel very chilly after my involuntary bath. We continued our march at first along another hollow containing fresh water, and then, ascending a little, came upon a sandy level well clothed with herbage and trees of the mimosa kind. Here we seemed to be entirely out of reach of the lake; and great was our astonishment when, a little after nine o’clock, we came close upon another fine sheet of fresh, blue water. It was a great satisfaction to me, in the state I was in, that we encamped at so early an hour on its northern border, where some serrákh afforded a tolerable shade. I was busy drying my clothes, arms, saddle-cloths, and journals, when there appeared certain indications of an approaching storm; and in order to avoid being wetted twice in the same day, I got my tent pitched. After a furious gale the rain poured down, and about a dozen of my companions took refuge in my small, frail dwelling; but all were not so fortunate as to escape a wetting, for the rain, being very heavy, came in at the door. The storm lasted more than an hour; and everything, including horses and camels, being thoroughly soaked, it was decided to remain here for the night.
Sunday, Sept. 28.—For some reason or another, but chiefly in order to slaughter the other ox, divide it, and cut it up into “gedíd,” we remained here the whole morning; and the sun had long passed into zawál (past noon) when we started through the sandy and slightly undulating country full of herbage, principally of the plant called “nesí,” besides bú rékkebah or Avena Forskalii, the bur-feathered prickle (Pennisetum distichum), and various kinds of mimosa, chiefly consisting of the talha, and úm-el-barka (Mimosa Nilotica.) Our companions found several ostrich-eggs, and met a large troop of gazelles. The country then became more thickly wooded, and, where we encamped for the night, presented a very interesting character; but the danger from wild beasts was considerable, and the roar of a lion was heard throughout the greater part of the night.
Monday, Sept. 29.—Started early: the character of the country continued the same as yesterday, and presented beautiful specimens of the mimosa, here breaking down from age, at another place interwoven with creepers, one species of which produces the red juicy fruit called “fito” by the Kanúri, and has been mentioned by me before. It was nearly eight o’clock when, proceeding in groups, two of our horsemen, on passing near a very large and thick gherret, suddenly halted, and with loud cries hastened back to us. We approached the spot, and saw a very large snake hanging in a threatening attitude from the branches of the tree; on seeing us it tried to hide itself; but after firing several balls, it fell down, and we cut off its head. It measured 18 ft. 7 in. in length, and at the thickest part 5 in. in diameter, and was of a beautifully variegated colour. Two natives, who had attached themselves to our troop the day before, cut it open and took out the fat, which they said was excellent.
The ride was truly interesting; but by degrees it became too much for me, and after seven hours’ march I was so utterly exhausted as to be obliged to halt, and lie down. Most of the Arabs remained with us; others, with ʿAli ben ʿAisa, went on to the well. When we pursued our march in the afternoon, the country for the first three hours was more level, but then became very hilly; and at five o’clock we ascended a considerable elevation to our left, the highest point in the whole country, but perhaps not more than six or seven hundred feet above the level of the Tsád. From here we crossed two very pretty valleys, or dells, especially the second one, where there were very curious hilly projections of a calcareous stone. But these valleys were very poor indeed, in comparison with the valley or hénderi Fóyo, situated at some distance from the well where we encamped for the night; for its bottom presented one uninterrupted mass of vegetation, impenetrable in many spots. Here the botanist might be sure to find some new species, although the principal trees were the kúrna (Cornus), serrákh, úm-el-barka or Mimosa Nilotica, hajilíj or Balanites, and the talha (M. ferruginea), but all interwoven with creepers, and offering the most delightful shade. These valleys, which afford the only watering-places, must of course be very dangerous during the night, on account of the wild beasts, principally lions, of which there are great numbers hereabouts. Here our companions received a messenger from Ghét, the young chief of the Welád Slimán.
Tuesday, Sept. 30.—We remained in the forenoon and during the heat of the day in our encampment. While stretched out in the shade of a fine mimosa, I obtained some valuable information regarding the various tribes dwelling in Kánem, and the districts of their settlements. But it will be better, instead of inserting it here, to collect all the information I received at different times into one general account, which shall be given in the Appendix.
In the afternoon the camels and the heavier portion of the troop were allowed to start in advance, and the horsemen followed about half-an-hour afterwards, after having watered the horses; but instead of taking care to follow the footsteps of the camels in a wild country where there was no regular path, they rode on negligently, and soon became aware that they had missed the track. There now began a very disorderly riding in all directions. This fatigued me greatly, for nothing is so vexing to a weak man as to ramble about without knowing when he is likely to reach the place of repose so much looked for. After sending scout after scout, we at length found the track, and reached our men in the dark.
Wednesday, Oct. 1.—Having set out early, after nearly two hours ride we were met by a single horseman coming towards us from the encampment of the Welád Slimán, and bidding us welcome to their wild country. They kept starting up from the thicket on our right and left, firing their muskets and saluting us with their usual war-cry, “Yá riyáb, yá riyáb.” Having thus advanced for about half-an-hour, we came to a halt, in order to receive in a more solemn form the warlike compliments of a larger troop of horsemen, led on by a person of some importance.
The dust raised by the horsemen having subsided a little, and the country being clearer of wood, we now saw before us the whole cavalry of the Welád Slimán drawn up in a line in their best attire, their chief Ghét the son of Séf el Nasr ben Ghét, and his uncle ʿOmár the son of Ghét and brother of ʿAbd el Jelíl, in the midst of them. This stately reception, not having been anticipated by Overweg and myself, made a great impression upon us; but we were not left to gaze long, but were desired by our Arab companions to ride in advance of the line in compliment to the chiefs. We accordingly put our steeds into a gallop, and riding straight up to our new friends, saluted them with our pistols. Having answered our compliments, and bidding us welcome to their wild abode, the young Ghét galloping along at the head of his squadrons, his sword drawn, and with the continuous cry “Yá riyáb, yá riyáb,” they led us to the encampment, and we had a place shown to us where we might pitch our tents.
XL. THE HORDE OF THE WELÁD SLIMÁN
We had now joined our fate with that of this band of robbers, who, in consequence of their restless habits, having been driven from their original dwelling places in the Syrtis, after a great variety of events have at length established themselves in this border region between the desert and the fertile regions of Negroland, under the guidance of Mohammed the son of ʿAbd el Jelíl, on the ruins of the old kingdom of Kánem, very much in the same way as in the west the Welád Ammer (Ludamar) have established themselves on the ruins of the empire of Mélle. At that time they mustered a considerable force, and being joined by a great many adventurers from all the Arab tribes from the Ríf as far as Fezzán, were able to bring into the field from nine hundred to one thousand horsemen. They then turned their attention towards our friends the Kél-owí, and began to seize upon their camels, which came to Bilma for the salt-trade; these, as the reader has seen from my previous account, are always proceeding in large caravans; but it is almost impossible to give implicit credit to the statement which was made to us by several individuals, that the Welád Slimán had taken from the Tuarek more than thirty thousand camels in the course of two or three years.
If they had continued in this way for a short time, they would have brought about an immense revolution in the whole of Central Africa; for the Kél-owí would of course not have been able to provide Háusa with salt, after having lost their camels, and thus, having no salt for bartering, would have remained without the most necessary articles of subsistence: they would accordingly have been obliged either to starve or to emigrate into, and take possession by force of, the more fertile districts of Sudán. But before they were driven to this extreme, they made one energetic effort against their enemies, and succeeded; for, having summoned the contingents of all the different tribes inhabiting Aír or Asben, they collected a host of at least seven thousand men, chiefly mounted on camels, but comprising also a considerable number of horsemen, and proceeded to attack the lion in his den, in the beginning of the year 1850.
I am almost inclined to suspect that the people of Bórnu had a hand in this affair; at least, the existence of such a warlike and restless horde of men, and mustering considerable forces, as the Welád Slimán were then, under the guidance of Mohammed, and in such a neighbourhood, could not be wholly indifferent to any ruler of Bórnu possessed of prudence and foresight. Of course, since its power had decreased to such a degree that it could not of itself make the necessary resistance against the daily encroachments of the Tuarek, it was of great service to Bórnu to have such a strong and energetic auxiliary to keep them down. But, be this as it may, the Arabs left their very strong entrenchments at Késkawa (which, at the first news of the intended expedition, they had formed on the border of the Tsád, and which the Tuarek themselves confessed to me they would never have been able to conquer), and separated, not thinking that their enemies were able to carry out their intention; for all those tribes which had come to join them, as the Gedádefa, the Ferján, the Urfílla, the Ftáim, Swási, Temáma, and Dhóhob, after having enriched themselves with the spoils of the Tuarek, were anxious to carry away their booty in safety, and proceeded on their home-journey by way of Kúffara. They were just encamped in the Wady ʿAlála, where my readers will soon have to accompany me, when a scout brought the news that a very large host of the Tuarek was close at hand; but they say that his report did not find credit, and that on this account the Arabs had no time to make any preparations, but were all on a sudden surrounded on all sides by the numerous host of their enemy. It is moreover to be understood that the greater part of this band were merely armed with guns, which are very useful in a skirmish of horsemen, who can retreat after having fired them off, but of very little use in close combat; few of them were armed with pistols, and still fewer with swords. But the Kél-owí, in addition to their numbers, had also the advantage of superior arms, having spear, sword, and dagger, even if we do not take into account their muskets, which they rarely know how to use. The consequence was, that the Arabs, after having killed a small number of their enemies in the foremost lines, were soon overpowered and massacred, not half of them succeeding in making their escape. Their chief Mohammed himself made his way through the host very severely wounded, and was slain, according to report, shortly after by a Tébu woman who recognized him. Sʿaid, the most valiant of all the Welád Slimán, but also the most violent, was killed on the spot, together with the bravest champions of the little horde; and a very considerable booty was made by the Tuarek, not only in camels and slaves, but also in silver, the chiefs having amassed a great deal of property. Thus the flower of this troop was destroyed, and only the least brave and youngest were left.
The vizier of Bórnu then took the young man, to whom very little power and property were left, under his special protection, entering with him and the remaining part of the tribe into a contract, to the effect that he would furnish them with horses and muskets, as far as they should stand in need of them, on condition of their delivering to him a certain share of their booty in every expedition. Of course, such a troop of swift horsemen armed with muskets, if kept in strict subjection and subordination, might have proved exceedingly useful on the northern borders of Bórnu, on the one side as a check upon the Tuarek, on the other upon Wadáy. But the great difficulty, which the vizier appears not to have overcome, was to subject the predatory excursions of such a set of people to some sort of political rule.
With this view he sent the young chief, who was scarcely more than twenty years of age, to Kánem with all that were left of the Welád Slimán, keeping back in Kúkawa, as hostages for his proceedings, his mother and the wives and little children of some of the principal men. But from the beginning there was a strong party against the young chief, who had not yet achieved any exploit, and whose sole merit consisted in his being the nearest relation of ʿAbd el Jelíl. ʿOmár, his uncle, who from his youth had given himself up to a life of devotion, and was called a Merábet, had a considerable party; and there were, besides, several men who thought themselves of as much importance as their chief. In the absence of individual authority in a small band like this, which only numbered two hundred and fifty horsemen, no great results could be produced. All the tribes settled in Kánem and the adjacent districts were their natural enemies: the Nóreá or Nuwárma, and the Shendákóra and Médema, the Sákerda and Karda in the Bahar el Ghazál, the Búltu, the Woghda, the Welád Ráshid, the Díggana or Dághana, the Welád Hamíd, the Hommer and the Máhamíd in Khúrma, all were bent upon their destruction, while none but the Lasálʿa or el Asálʿa beyond Kárká, and the Kánembú tribe of the Fugábú, were attached to them. All the tribes around call them only by the name Mínnemínne, or Menémené (“the Eaters”), which name, although it seems to have arisen in the real gluttony of these Arabs, might be referred appropriately to their predatory habits.
In the course of these broils and petty intrigues the most respectable among them took to commerce, while others formed the design of returning; and when I left Bórnu in May 1855, the rest of the little band had separated into two distinct camps, and the dissolution or ruin of their community was fast approaching. This was the horde with which, in order to carry out the objects of our mission to the utmost of our power, Mr. Overweg and I were obliged to associate our fate; but, unfortunately, we were unprovided with that most essential article for exciting a more than common interest in ourselves personally, or the objects of our mission, namely, valuable presents.
While our people pitched our tents, Mr. Overweg and I went to pay our compliments to Sheikh Ghét and ʿOmár, and to have a friendly talk with them before we proceeded to more serious business. They seemed to expect this compliment, having lain down in the shade of a tree at a short distance from our place of encampment. Ghét, who was smoking a long pipe, was a tolerably handsome young man; but his pronunciation was, very defective, and he had nothing very commanding in his manner. Having exchanged a few compliments, and asked some general questions, we withdrew, and soon after received a present of dates and milk. A great many of the Arabs paid us a visit; and a renegade Tripolitan Jew, ʿAbdallah, with the surname “el Musulmáni,” who would not leave us for a moment, kept telling us of his adventures and his importance, and assuring us of his most disinterested affection for us. Though his former religion differed from ours, and he had again exchanged this for another from mere worldly motives, he nevertheless thought himself entitled to the claim of brotherhood, and was gracious enough to call us sometimes his cousins (welád ʿamí). There was another man who tried to make himself as agreeable as possible to us, and endeavoured to obtain our friendship; this was an Egyptian named Ibrahím, a fine tall man who evidently belonged originally to a good family; but he had run away from home, and was now leading, in company with this little horde, a restless, remorseful, and wearisome life.
When the heat of the day had a little abated, we prepared the small present we had to give to Sheikh Ghét, and which consisted of a red cloth bernús of good workmanship, a pound of cloves, a pound of jáwi or benzoin, and a razor. We were well aware that it was rather a trifling gift, considering the assistance we required from these people to carry out our object; but we knew also that it was rather a favour bestowed upon us by the vizier of Bórnu, who regarded these people as in his service. Referring therefore to the friendship which existed of old between their tribe, when still in their old settlements in the Syrtis, and the English consul in Tripoli, and delivering a letter from Mr. Frederick Warrington, who was personally well known to the chief men, we openly professed that the object of our coming was to try, with their assistance, to visit the eastern shore of the lake, and especially the Bahar el Ghazál, which had formed a remarkable object of curiosity in our country for some time. But Sheikh Ghét without hesitation declared it was impossible for them to take us to that place, the most dangerous locality in all these quarters, on account of the many predatory expeditions which were made to that spot from different quarters, and by tribes hostile to them. After some commonplace talk about the English, we left him, and went to his uncle with a present of precisely the same kind, and began here to urge the distinct object of our coming in a more positive way. I expressed the opinion that, as they would render acceptable service to the British Government, if they were to enable us to investigate the connection between the Bahar el Ghazál and the lake, so, on the other hand, a great portion of the blame, if we should not be able to carry out our design, would certainly fall upon them, inasmuch as they had always professed to be under great obligations towards the English. ʿOmár ben Ghét ben Séf eʾ Nasr acknowledged all this; but he doubted very much if the band, in its present reduced state, would be able to carry us to those quarters, which were entirely under the sway of Wadáy. The Bahar el Ghazál having given an opportunity of speaking about the river-system between the Tsád and the Nile, our friend came forward with a most confused statement, which it would not be worth while to explain. But with regard to that large wady itself we found that he, as well as the experienced men among these Arabs, asserted that it took its course not towards, but from the lake.
We then took our leave of ʿOmár, and returned to our tents. The place of the encampment was a fine, open, sandy, undulating level, commanding the vale, where are the wells Yongo or Bú-Halíma, covered with verdure, and richly adorned with scattered mimosas. The tents and sheds of the Arabs were spread over a great space; and no precaution was taken to obtain some degree of security by means of fences and stockades. The sun having set, I lay down outside my tent to enjoy the coolness and tranquillity of the evening after a hot and troublesome day. All seemed calm and tranquil, when suddenly a terrible screaming and crying arose from the women in the west part of the encampment. We hurried to our arms, thinking that an enemy had entered the place. The cry “ʿAlá eʾ dhahar! ʿalá eʾ dhahar” (“Mount! mount!”)—properly speaking, “In the saddle! in the saddle!”—sounded from all sides, and the horsemen hurried past us; but it was only a small party of freebooters, who, in the twilight of the evening, had made an attack upon the camels, and after having put to flight two or three men and killed a horseman, had driven off a part of the herd. Our friends pursued the robbers at full speed, and soon overtook them, when they retreated into the thicket, and gave up their booty. In this way we had a specimen of the character of our present expedition the very first day we had joined this little horde; and the lamentations of the females, on account of the man who had been slain, sounded wofully through the night, and brought before our minds the fate which, in a very short time, might befall ourselves. Late in the night, when the alarm had subsided, Sheikh Ghét sent us a heifer as a present.
Thursday, Oct. 2.—We remained quietly in our encampment, and obtained a great deal of valuable information respecting the south-eastern part of the lake and the districts adjacent. Thus the day passed by most pleasantly. Nothing remarkable happened to us on the following day, except the arrival of the important news that the Agíd of Wadáy, who had resided in Mʿawó, on the report of an attack intended to be made by the Arabs upon that town, had fled. This news, if it proved true, held out, of course, a feeble ray of hope that we might be able to penetrate to the eastern shore of the lake; and the Arabs formed schemes accordingly. As Háj ʿAbbás, who had come with us in order to raise from the Arabs Háj Beshír’s share in the spoil of their last predatory excursions, was to return to Kúkawa in a few days, I wrote a letter to the vizier concerning the prospect we had of probably not being able to accomplish the whole of our design. The rest of the day I enjoyed in comfort, stretched quietly in the shade of a tree; but my tranquillity was a little disturbed by disputes that arose amongst my men.
Saturday, Oct. 4.—Very early in the morning, when all was quiet, I was aroused from my sleep by the mournful song of an Arab, who, between the different stanzas of his dirge, seemed to give vent to his tears. The impression made by this song, which was full of deep feeling, among such a horde of lawless people, where generally only the meanest side of man was exhibited, was charming; but as the singer was at some distance from my tent, I could not distinctly make out what was the cause of his grief, neither was I able to learn it afterwards: the thoughts of the Arabs were taken up by another affair. The most handsome among the female slaves who composed part of the spoil that was to be taken to the vizier by his officer Háj ʿAbbás, had made her escape during the night; they were eagerly searching from dawn of day, but could not find her. At length they discovered her necklace and clothes, and the remains of her bones,—evident proofs that she had fallen a prey to the wild beasts. She belonged to the Yédiná or Búdduma, and was represented as having been possessed of considerable charms; and it was supposed that her loss would affect the vizier greatly, who, as I have before observed, was rather fond of an ethnological variety of female beauty. There was a great deal of unpleasant conversation about this affair, the girl not yet having been delivered up to Háj ʿAbbás when she made her escape.
But there were many other causes of discord among this little horde, and when the vizier’s officer set out, a great many more of the Arabs made use of this opportunity to go to Kúkawa than had been agreed upon. The most serious loss to us was certainly the departure of Sheikh ʿOmár, Ghét’s uncle, who, on account of his experience and knowledge of the English, which much exceeded that of his youthful nephew, might have been of considerable service to us. At any rate he ought to have informed us of his intention to leave, as by his accepting our present, it was understood that he undertook the obligation of assisting us in carrying out our project; and having nothing to spare, we felt rather disappointed. But although our prospects were not too flattering, at least we had hopes of moving a little onwards, as our departure from this place was fixed for the following day.
Sunday, Oct. 5.—When the camels, guarded by the men on foot, had left in the morning, we went first with the other horsemen to the well, in order to water our horses. We had not visited it before, as it was at some distance from our tents. The vale was of that general wild and luxuriant character which distinguishes the valleys of Kánem; but it was even more wild and picturesque than usual, and a chill draught of air met us proceeding from the richly wooded dale, where the sun’s rays never penetrated. There were several wells, which exhibited a busy and interesting scene, the horsemen in their picturesque attire (a mixed dress of their native abode and their present adopted home) thronging around these sources and centres of life, in order to water their poor-looking but persevering nags. When we returned to the place of our former encampment all was desolate, and loneliness and silence had succeeded to the animated dwelling-place of a quarrelsome multitude of people. We hurried on over undulating sandy ground, richly overgrown with trees, and soon overtook our camels: the place of our destination was not far off; and at noon we were already encamped on a fine sandy level, rising over another luxuriant hollow or vale especially rich in kúrna-trees, whence the well “Bír el Kúrna” has received its name. It was a spacious encampment, with Arabs and Tébu intermixed, and could not but be very salubrious, although we found afterwards, just in this elevated position, the difference between the cold of the night and the heat of the day extraordinary. Our appetite being rather keen, we indulged in the luxury of some turtle-soup: for turtles are by no means a rarity in these districts, although in general they seem to be of a rather small size. I do not remember to have seen or heard in this quarter of such large specimens as seem to be common in the country round Aír.
Monday, Oct. 6.—The day of the ʿAíd el kebír. I went in the morning, as soon as the sun began to shine forth, to a place in a cool shade a little south from our encampment, without knowing that this was the very spot which the Arabs had chosen for their holiday prayers. In general only a few of them were praying; but to-day the leading persons among them, who came here with Sheikh Ghét, offered up their prayer with solemnity and apparent fervour. This proved an unlucky day to us, and very unfavourable to our design to penetrate into those dangerous districts on the east side of the lake; for a considerable portion of the tribe (one hundred and fifty men with about seventy horses) left that day for Kúkawa, to our great surprise and mortification, and, as it would seem, also to the mortification of the young chief, a circumstance of which we became fully aware when we paid him a visit about noon. Of course, with our very small means, and the poor and insignificant character of our mission, we could not expect that this unsettled horde should have a scrupulous regard to our wishes and designs in arranging their affairs. It was quite evident that their proceeding was the mere effect of a stubborn sense of independence and jealousy; and it seemed to be done in open opposition to the wish of their young chief. About one o’clock in the afternoon they left; and we forwarded a short note with them expressive of our dissatisfaction at this state of things, which filled us with the saddest forebodings as to the success of our mission. But while thus disappointed in more important matters, we felt tolerably well off in material comforts; for in the morning a party of Fugábú arrived with a number of sheep for sale, selling two for a dollar, and thus enabled us to gratify the religious longing of our servants for an extra dish on this their holiday. In the course of the evening, a numerous caravan of oxen laden with grain, or rather Negro millet, arrived from Bórnu, which made provisions a little cheaper. The grain grown in the country, in its present wild and desolate state, is not sufficient for the population, though so greatly reduced; and the last season had been rather an unfavourable one. In consequence of the arrival of this caravan, we not only had the opportunity of buying corn at a cheaper rate, but we also got some from the chief as a present.
Everything in Kánem is bought with the common white Bórnu shirts, which form the general dress of the people, black tobes being worn only by richer persons. Even the general dress of the Arabs settled here in Kánem consists of these white tobes and a háík made of the same stuff, only the wealthier individuals being able to buy a woollen plaid. The dress of the females, too, is made of these very tobes, which are cut into the regular oblong pieces of which they consist, and sewn together lengthwise.
Tuesday, Oct. 7.—Being obliged to remain here without the certain prospect of doing anything worth while, we at least thought we had some right to the hospitality of our hosts; and we expressed our desire to obtain a little more milk, as we ourselves possessed neither cows nor she-camels. Our request was complied with. Thus we accustomed ourselves entirely to camel’s milk, and found it by degrees more palatable and wholesome than the milk of cows. I attribute the recovery of my strength principally to this sort of diet. There was always some milk brought into the encampment by the daughters of the Bení Hassan; but this was generally milk in an unpleasant intermediate state between sweet and sour, and the vessels (the kórió, made of the leaves of the palm-tree) in which it was carried had usually a bad smell, which they communicated to the milk. As the renegade Jew ʿAbdallah (el Musulmáni) was the medium through which all our business with the chief was transacted, I made him to-day a present of a red sash, and continued to keep him in good humour by occasional small presents. This man was a curious specimen of a Jewish adventurer. He was by birth a Tripolitan, but had been obliged to leave his native home on account of a murder which he had committed. He then betook himself to the tribe of the Welád Slimán, exchanging his Jewish creed for that of Mohammed, and obtained protection. When he had gained a good deal of property as a silversmith, his new companions stripped him of his treasures: he then for a time separated from them, and in company with two other renegade Jews, Músa and Ibrahím, made a journey to Negroland—a memorable event, as they were the first of their nation who trod this road. On his receiving news of the prosperity of the Welád Slimán in Kánem, he once more joined them, and became a freebooter. He was a very good horseman; but that was all, his horsemanship but badly supplying his want of courage. However he was useful to us in many respects, although we had to take care that the people did not confound us with these Jewish adventurers.
I began this day my little vocabulary of the Tébu language, or rather the “módi Tedá,” and provisionally that dialect of this language which is spoken by the inhabitants of Búrgu, and which varies considerably from the language as it is spoken by the inhabitants of Bilma, and in the south of Fezzán. Already at that early period I became aware that this language is nearly related to the Kanúri, while it has scarcely any link whatever which externally connects it with the Berber language.
Wednesday, Oct. 8.—The only thing which happened this day worth mentioning was the arrival of Hallúf, a warlike Tébu chieftain, with seventeen horsemen of the Fugábú Tébu, who rode up in a very spirited manner to the tent of Sheikh Ghét. Hallúf, a man of great bodily size and strength, and renowned in these quarters on account of his valour, had formerly been the enemy of Bórnu, but had now been won over to its interest. However, he was still too much afraid of the Bórnu people to join the Welád Slimán, as long as Háj ʿAbbás the vizier’s messenger was present; but he came as soon as he heard that he was gone. He was not a very scrupulous man, as I soon convinced myself, when he with the Fugábú called upon us, and as soon as he had introduced himself began begging for poison. We of course cut his demand short. He then sat quietly down with his companions, and took great delight in the performances of my musical box, which I really found, together with the watch, the most useful instrument for demonstrating to the people the great superiority of European genius and handicraft. These people were not without sympathy for those lively airs which the little instrument was capable of performing, and would sit down quietly for a great length of time enjoying this mysterious music. The rumour soon spread, and Sheikh Ghét likewise desired to be made acquainted with the mysterious little box. But the day did not end so harmlessly; for bad tidings arrived. Háj ʿAbbás, on his way to Bórnu, had seen a troop of Kindín near Ngégimi, and warned the Arabs to beware of a sudden attack. Thus uneasiness and anxiety spread through the encampment, and scouts were sent out to scour the country in every direction.
Friday, Oct. 10.—News having been brought in the morning that three Tuarek on horseback, and five on camels, had been seen at a neighbouring well, an alarm was raised immediately. All the Arabs mounted; and we followed their example, though I felt extremely weak, while my horse, having had rest and good food for several days, and seeing so many companions galloping and capering about, was almost unmanageable. The whole encampment presented a very warlike appearance; but it turned out to be a false alarm. We therefore returned into the encampment, and began to arrange our luggage, as we were to leave here the heaviest part of our things, and take only as little as possible with us in our progress further eastward; for the Arabs had conceived the hope of plunder, the news having been brought that the Khalífa of Wadáy had left his residence Mʿawó, and that nobody was there to defend that quarter against their inroads. At the same time, our friends cast a longing look towards Báteli, the celebrated pasture-grounds in the northern course of the Bahar el Ghazál, two days’ march beyond Egé, where numbers of camels were reported to be collected at the time. Of course they did not want it to become known where they intended to direct their foray, and therefore spoke now of this, then of that quarter, as likely to be the object of their expedition.
XLI. SHITÁTI.—THE EASTERN, MORE FAVOURED, VALLEYS OF KÁNEM
Saturday, Oct. 11.—With the rest of our people, and with the remaining two camels carrying the smaller part of our luggage, we accompanied the following day the more active part of the horde, while the older men were left behind for the defence of the encampment, with their families and property. The country through which our way led was entirely of the same character as that which I have already described, a sandy level adorned with trees of moderate size, almost all of the genus Mimosa, and in favourable seasons well adapted for the cultivation of Indian corn—now and then broken by deep hollows of larger or smaller extent, generally with a sufficient supply of water to produce fine plantations or cornfields, and overgrown with more luxuriant vegetation. We crossed a fine vale of this description about eight miles from our starting-point, and chose our camping-ground on the higher level commanding the “Bír el Ftáim.” The hollow, however, which contains this well is rather of a peculiar kind; for, unlike the other basins, which afford sufficient space for cultivation, it is extremely narrow, while the encompassing slopes, at least that on the north side, rise to a greater altitude than the general level of the country. I made a sketch of it.
On this commanding point there was a village of the Fugábú Kóbber; and Overweg and I, before we went to our encampment, which was chosen on the southern slope, paid these people a visit, dismounting under a tree at some distance from their light huts, and were well received. They brought us immediately a dish made of the meal of Indian corn and sour milk, and sat down cheerfully, questioning us as to the difference between their country and ours, and asking, with regard to the politics of England, whether we were the friends or enemies of Dár-Fúr and Wadáy (which countries, together with Bórnu, comprised their political horizon), and expressed great astonishment at our instruments. They brought us a lion’s skin, and soon after another very palatable dish of deshíshe made of wheat, with very good butter, which had nothing of that nasty taste peculiar to the butter of Bórnu and the surrounding countries: the dish was seasoned with dates.
It would have been far more instructive and agreeable to us to be in the constant company and under the protection of these people, the natives of the country, who would have made us acquainted with its characteristic features so much better than that band of lawless robbers who took no real interest in it, except as regarded the booty which it afforded them. But they had neither power nor authority; and we were satisfied that where the Arabs were not able to conduct us, these people never could. Notwithstanding their alliance with the Arabs, they are treated with contempt by the latter, and the Arabs never omit to add a sneer when they speak of the “damned” (“ám bú”) Keráda; for so they call the Fugábú. Of course the intercourse of these two different people can neither be sincere nor intimate, and the natives were only waiting for their day of revenge. A storm gathering and threatening to burst upon us, we hastened away from this spot; but there was only a little rain. In the evening there arrived two Shúwa from the villages of the Woghda, and were thrown into irons, in order not to betray the approach of the Arabs.
Sunday, Oct. 12.—We went on a short distance to another well situated in a considerable hollow or basin, which might afford, and has once afforded, a splendid place for cultivation, but which at present was entirely blocked up and made really impassable by rank and wild vegetation. With great trouble we penetrated with the first horsemen to the well. Nobody had made use of it for a long period. The water was very bad and unwholesome. The Arabs had not encamped at this place for at least seven years; hence there was a rich abundance of excellent food for the camels; but the danger from beasts of prey was also very great. The ground was full of elephants’ dung; and wild pigeons were hovering about in great numbers.
The place for our encampment was chosen on the level commanding the rich basin on the eastern side, and descending into it by a steep slope of from three hundred to four hundred feet. Here I laid myself down in the cool shade of a luxuriant serrákh not far from the slope, and surveyed the trains of the Fugábú, who in the course of the day arrived with their little movable household, having left their former residence near Bír el Ftáím. In the evening we paid a visit to the sheikh, and as usual were obliged to give him and his companions some account of European matters, though it would have been far more interesting for us to listen to their own stories, so full of incidents of a wild restless life.
Monday, Oct. 13.—The weather was cool, and a strong north wind made it rather chilly. Having been told that we were not to leave the next day, I purchased a ram, with a white tobe which I had bought for about forty rotl in Kúkawa, receiving, besides the ram, one sʿaa or zékka of Guinea-corn to complete the bargain. I afterwards got a fine fat goat, which we slaughtered to-day, and found its meat pretty good. Hallúf came while I was lying in the shade of my serrákh of the preceding day, which I had nicely cleaned, and sat down to a chat; he assured me that he was able to bring us to Kárká or Kargha, the swampy country in the south-east corner of the lake, which forms an archipelago of small islands, and would offer his services for that purpose, but that he was afraid of Sheikh Ghét’s jealousy. He then went with me over my little Tébu vocabulary, and corrected some slight mistakes. He was quite a sociable man; but Overweg, as well as I, doubted much whether he could be trusted.
Having consulted what course to take, we went to the sheikh and asked him whether he really thought Hallúf would be able to take us with any degree of safety to Kárká. He did not hesitate to declare that Hallúf was unable to accomplish what he had boasted of, and begged us to have patience till news should arrive from Bórnu, where he had sent to ask for advice with regard to our design of visiting the eastern side of the lake, and respecting his own proceedings. We rather imagined that the vizier had given him orders, at the same time that he sent us out to Kánem, to assist us in carrying out our project in every respect; and we could scarcely hope for any favourable result by their asking advice at such a distance. We therefore complained to ʿAbdallah of the sheikh’s lukewarmness; and presuming that he was not content to leave us under the protection of Hallúf because he expected that the latter would get some handsome present from us, we told him that even if we were to go with Hallúf, we should regard ourselves as still under the protection of the sheikh, to whom we were entirely indebted for Hallúf’s acquaintance, and would make him a valuable present if we should not fail in our enterprise. This seemed to take effect; and we received the satisfactory message in the evening, that we should be allowed to go with Hallúf, but that we must make a handsome present to the sheikh, besides the large tent which I had prepared for myself in Tripoli. Being willing to make any sacrifice in order to carry out the express wish of the Government who had sent us, and elated by the prospect that something might be done, we paid another visit to Sheikh Ghét in the evening, but could not arrive at any definite arrangement. There was a great deal of talk about a certain Keghámma, who alone had the power to take us to Kárká, while Hallúf at best was said to be able to conduct us to Mʿawó; but at that time we could not make out distinctly who this Keghámma was, except that we learnt that he resided in a place called Kárafu, in the direction of Mʿawó.
Tuesday, Oct. 14.—The strong wind making it rather uncomfortable outside, I remained in my tent studying the Tébu language, and conversing with the fáki ʿOthmán, a man who, by his mild conduct, formed a curious contrast to the lawless and quarrelsome character of this band of robbers, besides being possessed of less prejudice and superstition. In the afternoon several Fugábú paid us a visit; they all behaved well, and were not troublesome. It was at length decided that we should leave the second day following, with Hallúf, for the Bahar el Ghazál and Kárká; and although we were sorry at not having brought the affair to a more definite conclusion, we yet indulged in the hope that we should be able to attain our object, when suddenly in the evening we received information that Hallúf had receded from his engagement, and that therefore no further idea of our going with him could be entertained. What the reason was for this sudden change of proceeding I cannot say; but all our arguments, of course, were faulty, as we were unable to give them sufficient weight by good presents. That the tidings of the carrying off of three herds of cattle from a village at a few miles’ distance from Yó, by the Tuarek, which arrived this evening, could have had any influence upon this course of policy was rather improbable.
Wednesday, Oct. 15.—I was so happy as to collect a good deal of information about the country of Shitáti, which we had now entered, once densely inhabited in large and populous cities, and passed the day quietly and usefully. We heard, to our great joy, that we were to go on the next day with the whole expedition.
Thursday, Oct. 16.—We had scarcely left the place of our encampment when we fell in with an elephants’ track, apparently leading to the well, and followed it for a long distance; it was well trodden, and was an undoubted proof that these huge animals abounded in this wild deserted region, where man had left scarcely any trace of his presence. Having proceeded at a swift rate, we crossed, at the distance of about six miles, a very fine hollow or vale stretching south and north, and capable of producing everything, and even at that time exhibiting a few vestiges of human activity and industry in a small field of wheat, irrigated from those wells called “kháttatír” by the Arabs, which name is given by them also to the spot irrigated in this way. Its native name, if I am not mistaken, is “Yakállogo.”
We then came to another hollow, formed like an ancient circus, and having its soil richly impregnated with natron; it is called Bérendé. After a short halt here, we continued our march; and Overweg and I, while our men and camels followed the direct road, turned off towards the south, and visited another hollow, called “Bóro,” in whose deep bottom a lake is formed, which, according to the season and to the quantity of water it contains, like several other water-basins round the lake, may be termed a fresh or brackish-water lake.
During the last rainy season but very little rain had fallen in Kánem; and consequently this lake was of rather small extent, being about one mile and a half round, and limited to the more deeply depressed southern corner of the basin, while its northern corner, which is rarely inundated, was thickly wooded. There was formerly much cultivation here, and a small village stood on the border of the lake. Now all is desolate; and our Kánemma guide, Músa Bedé, unwilling to make a longer stay in such a spot, hurried on, ascending the steep eastern slope, which is at least three hundred feet high. Here we obtained a view over a great extent of country; but it was all one desolate wilderness, and nothing particular to be seen, excepting a party of five men watching our movements, and keeping parallel with us. We therefore returned to our troop and informed them of the circumstance; and a body of horsemen were sent in pursuit. We then, about half an hour before noon, crossed another hollow or vale, called Towáder, with the dry basin of a lake in its southernmost part, on whose border were several wells; the ground was thickly overgrown with underwood. Continuing our march, we reached, after noon, a more extensive and extremely beautiful vale, richly clothed with vegetation, but not in so wild a state, and not of the same impenetrable character, as many of those which we had seen; the reason seemed to be, that it was less deep, being only about one hundred and fifty feet under the higher level.
Here the troop halted during the heat of the day, the groups being scattered over the whole extent of the hollow; but it was not a fit spot for a night’s encampment, as well on account of the wild beasts, as of the danger of a sudden attack from hostile men. Sweet as repose was here in the cool shade of a luxuriant serrákh or a kúrna, the ground was full of scorpions; and my bodyguard, Bú-Zéd, was severely stung by one. Accordingly, when the dhohor had passed by, the order was given for decamping, and we kept along the vale and ascended the eastern slope, when, on an entirely open ground almost bare of trees, we chose a place for our night’s encampment. The Arabs here brought us a young ostrich which they had caught in the valley; and we had a long unprofitable conversation with them in endeavouring to obtain their goodwill.
Friday, Oct. 17.—We started very early, for a long day’s fatiguing ride; for, notwithstanding all the care I took of myself, I could not recover from my sickly state, and was extremely sensitive of fatigue. The country in the beginning of our march was less adorned with trees than usual; but it became more densely wooded after we had passed the vale called Asfúra. This hollow, of small extent, and enclosed all around by steep slopes, is provided with a great number of wells of excellent water; but its bottom, being in most parts stony, is almost bare of vegetation, with the exception of here and there a dúm-bush. While the men made a short halt for taking in a supply of water, I went a little in advance with Abdallah; but I soon found that he did not know the road at all, keeping far too much to the south, and I thought it wiser to return to our people, and march along with them.
The country here offers a great variety in its configuration; and, instead of an extensive level, as before, hill and dale succeed each other. Having passed several smaller concavities, we reached a more considerable valley, called Jená ú Shelúkko, which contained corn, or rather durra fields, but they were entirely destroyed by the elephants. Grain had also been cultivated at the foot of the slope; but it had failed entirely, on account of the scarcity of rain. There were no vestiges of human habitations.
Our people had begun to make themselves comfortable in this fine valley for passing the heat of the day, when suddenly orders were given for continuing our march. The country now became more hilly. Having passed en route a hollow provided with wells and called Aghó, once one of the most famous places of Kánem, we made, after noon, a short halt in the flat dell called Núndul, in which are several kháttatír, or draw-wells, and stubble-fields, in order to provide ourselves with water, and also to water our horses. There was a great bustle and confusion, everybody wanting to get first to the wells, and proceed with the principal troop, as we were now approaching a hostile territory. My she-camel, which was a very fine little animal, but rather too heavily laden for such an expedition, was among the last that arrived; and, starting after the others, was soon left behind the whole troop; and I endeavoured in vain to bring her up.
The country here was more level than it had been in the latter part of our route; and we left on our right only one vale, which is called Maínasa. Fortunately for me, the whole host made a longer halt at two o’clock in the afternoon, in one long line, in order to exhort the little band to valour, and to give them some instructions in case of a conflict with the enemy. No quarter was to be given, and any one of them who should lose his horse or camel was to be indemnified for the loss. But a great deal was proclaimed besides, which, as I was at the very end of the line, I could not make out. Two horsemen were galloping along the line and brandishing white banners, such as I had not observed before. There was a good deal of parade in the whole scene; and at the end of it several small troops of horsemen galloped out in advance of the line as “imán,” that is to say, as bound by an oath either to be victorious or to die.
At length we pursued our course, the line breaking up into small irregular detachments, as chance or attachment grouped the people together; but we soon came to another halt, and much conversation ensued, in consequence of which, three of the Fugábú horsemen were despatched to the south, to bring up an experienced guide. Having at length resumed our march through a fine undulating and well-wooded country, we chose about sunset an open place for our encampment, where we were told we should rest till the moon had risen. Strict orders were given not to light a fire, in order that the enemy might not become aware of our approach. But as soon as it became dark, very large fires were seen to the south-east, forming one magnificent line of flame; and as it was clear that these were not common fires for domestic use, but appeared rather to be beacons, it was conjectured that the enemy had tidings of our coming, and were calling together their people. An order was therefore immediately given to proceed; but scarcely were the loads put upon the camels, and everything ready for the march, when a counter-order was received, that we were to remain. We then began to make ourselves comfortable, when a third order was given to load immediately and to pursue the march.
This ordering and countermanding seemed to arise rather from the bad organization of a band subject to no strict authority, but where every man of any experience and a little valour had something to say, than with the intention of misleading a lurking spy; but, whatever the cause, it was rather trying, and my two men, Bú-Zéd and Ahmed, neither of whom was very energetic, could scarcely be persuaded to load a second time, while all the people were getting ready with great expedition, and marched off as soon as they were ready. We therefore remained behind from the beginning. Unfortunately the load was so badly adjusted that several things soon fell down and had to be replaced; and this happening more than once, the distance between us and the host became so great, that at last not even the slightest noise could be heard of the troop before us to direct our course; but having once noticed the direction by the stars, I was able to guide my servants. To make matters worse, the ground was covered with high grass, and it was not easy to proceed at a rapid rate. Trees were very scanty here.
At length the Arabs became aware of my having been left at a great distance behind, and about midnight made a halt, when I overtook them. After having lightened my camel, we proceeded with expedition through the dark night, illuminated only by the distant fires, which gave a painful idea of the resistance we were to meet with, till after two o’clock in the morning of the 18th, when we reached a rising ground, and, dismounting, lay down near our wearied horses to get an hour’s rest.
We then continued our march with great alacrity for an hour, when we came to a halt on undulating sandy ground thickly covered with bushes. The horsemen galloped on in advance, while Overweg and I remained with the train, consisting of from sixty to seventy camels mounted by young men, and boys not more than ten years old, who were looking forward with such avidity for prey that they could scarcely be kept back. At length we began to proceed slowly, but soon came to another halt, as till now we had not heard a single shot; but when the day dawned, the greedy multitude could not be kept back any longer, and on we went.
We here obtained a faint view of an irregular valley-formation ahead of us, adorned with a few palm-trees, which, in the dubious light of the dawn, gave to the country an interesting and entirely new appearance. Crossing this valley-plain, we gradually ascended higher ground, and reached a small deserted village, consisting of large spacious huts. But though we turned off from it to the north, in order to prevent our little troop from dispersing to make booty, the best-mounted and most daring of them started off on their light mehára to see if something might not have been left to suit them.
Some little cultivation was to be seen around the village; but in general the country continued to bear the most evident traces of desolation. At length its dreary aspect became relieved, and we descended into a regularly formed valley called Gésgi, about five hundred yards broad, and enclosed between high cliffs of sandstone. This was the first regular valley-formation which we saw on our journey to Kánem; for as yet all depressions in the ground presented rather the character of hollows without a regular shelving or sloping in any direction. This valley, on the contrary, extending from north to south, was apparently the occasional channel of a small torrent, and, on account of the moisture extending over the whole of it, was adorned with several groups of palm-trees, and in several places with cornfields.
But while this valley presented great attraction to the European traveller, it was not less attractive to the covetous Arab freebooter; and all order ceasing in our little troop, the young inexperienced lads who composed our cortége dispersed in all directions. Some small flocks of sheep had been observed in the valley; and they were now pursued by part of our companions, while others ransacked the huts of a small hamlet situated on the western brow of the vale. It was very fortunate for us that no natives were lurking hereabouts, as they might have done immense mischief to our troop, scattered as it was about the country. Overweg and I were almost left alone, when, after having looked about in vain for traces of the footsteps of the horsemen who had gone in advance, we ascended the eastern slope, which was extremely steep and very difficult for the camels. Gradually our companions, fearing to expose themselves by staying behind, collected around us, and we proceeded in a south-easterly direction, when we soon came to another and more favoured valley, called Hénderí Síggesí, its bottom adorned with a thicker grove of date-trees and with beautiful cornfields—that is to say, fields of wheat with their golden stalks waving in the wind—while the high ground, being elevated above the bottom of the valley about one hundred and twenty feet, was planted near the brow with fields of millet, which was just ripe, but not yet reaped. What with the rich vegetation, the steep cliffs, the yellowish crop, the burning hamlet, and the people endeavouring to make their escape, it formed a very interesting scene.
Keeping along the western brow, which in some places, where the rock lay bare, was extremely steep, we observed that several natives, including even two or three horsemen, had taken refuge in the thickest part of the date-grove, watching our motions. A small hamlet of straw huts of a peculiar shape, not unlike those of the Koyám described on a former occasion, and lying at the very brink of the steep rocky declivity, had been set on fire. Our wild, lawless companions now began to descend into the valley at a spot where the slope was more gradual, raising a war-cry in order to frighten those people who were hid in the grove. Five good horsemen would have sufficed to overthrow this whole troop of young unbearded lads, who were snapping their firelocks without being in general provided with balls. It was very lucky, indeed, that Overweg and I with our people kept well together in the foremost part of the train, for the natives, rushing suddenly out from their hiding place upon the stragglers, laid hold of two camels, with which they immediately made good their retreat, their young riders, who a moment before had shown such courage, having betimes jumped off their animals and run away. Our companions were now full of gesticulations and warlike threats; but nobody dared to attack the small body of men, and dispute with them their booty. We soon reached the level on the eastern side of the valley; but if we had hesitated before what course to pursue, we were now quite puzzled to find the whereabouts of the horsemen. Wandering thus up and down without any distinct direction, we of course, as it was not safe for us to dismount and take a moment’s rest, suffered great fatigue, after a whole day and night’s journey. Meanwhile the sun had almost reached the zenith, and I felt extremely weak and exhausted.
At length some of the horsemen were seen, at a great distance beyond a more shallow dell, driving before them a herd of cattle; and rescued at length from the dangerous position in which we had been, destitute as we were of any sufficient protection, we hastened to cross the valley, and to join our more warlike and experienced friends. Falling in with them, we went together to a place a little further down this wide flat valley, where there were a small hamlet and stubble-fields. Here at length I hoped to get a little rest, and lay down in the scanty shade of a talha; but unfortunately there was no well here, and after a very short halt and a consultation, the order was given to proceed. I was scarcely able to mount my horse again and to follow the troop. The Arabs called this valley, which was very flat and produced no date-trees, Wády el Ghazál, but what its real name is I did not learn; it has of course nothing to do with the celebrated and larger valley of this name. The well was not far off, in another fine valley, or rather hollow, deeper than Wády el Ghazál, but much flatter than either Síggesí or Gésgí, and called Msállat or Amsállat. It was adorned with a wild profusion of mimosa, and in its deepest part provided with “kháttatír” or draw-wells, irrigating a fine plantation of cotton, the first we had yet seen in Kánem.
The Arabs had not made a very considerable booty, the Woghda having received intelligence of their approach and saved what they could. The whole result of the expedition was fifteen camels, a little more than three hundred head of cattle, and about fifteen hundred sheep and goats. The Arabs were for some time in great anxiety about Ghét, and a party of horsemen who had gone with him to a greater distance; but he joined us here, driving before him a large flock of sheep. We were busy watering our horses, and providing ourselves with this necessary element. But there was not much leisure; for scarcely had we begun to draw water, when the alarm was given that the Woghda were attacking us, and three bodies of horsemen were formed in order to protect the train and the booty. The main body rushed out of the valley on the south-east side, and drove the enemy back to a considerable distance; but the intention of encamping on the slope near this well was given up as too dangerous, and it was decided to go to a greater distance, though the intention of penetrating to Mʿawó seemed not as yet entirely to be abandoned. It took us a considerable time to get out of this wooded valley, the Arabs being afraid of being attacked and losing their booty.
At length, the cattle and flocks having been driven in advance, we started, and, leaving the vale, ascended elevated rocky ground, from which, following a south-westerly direction, we descended, a little before two o’clock in the afternoon, into the narrower eastern part of a deep and beautiful valley, which here is adorned by a pretty grove of date-trees, while its western part expands into fine cultivated ground. Here we made a halt of about half an hour, in order to water the animals and replenish our skins; for not even here was it thought advisable to encamp, as it is regarded as a very inauspicious place, this being the spot where, in 1850, the Kél-owí fell upon the Welád Slimán and almost exterminated them. After so short a halt we again pursued our march. I was now so totally exhausted that I was obliged to dismount at short intervals and lie down for a moment; and once when left alone, it was only with the utmost exertion that I was able to mount my horse again; but nevertheless I managed to drag myself along. At length, about sunset, we chose a place for our encampment on the brow of the slope descending into a deep valley. Having now been thirty-four hours on horseback with only short and insufficient intervals, I fell senseless to the ground, and was considered by Mr. Overweg and our people as about to breathe my last. But after an hour’s repose I recovered a little, and, having had a good night’s rest, felt myself much stronger on the following morning, so that I could even undergo some exertion which was not exactly necessary.
Monday, Oct. 20.—Descended with our people into the valley when they went to fetch water. It is called Áláli Ádia, or Jerád, from a small hamlet lying on the highest ground, and called Áláli. The well was very rich and plentiful; but no traces of cultivation appeared at the foot of the date-trees. The slope was rather steep, and about one hundred and thirty feet high. The Arabs, who had contracted their encampment or “dowar” within the smallest possible compass, barricading it with their baggage, as all the empty bags which they had taken with them on the expedition were now full of corn from the magazines of the enemy, were not at all at their ease, and seemed not to know exactly what course to take, whether to penetrate further in advance or to return. Several Fugábú and people belonging to Hallúf came to pay their respects to Sheikh Ghét; and a person of considerable authority, called Keghámma, or rather Keghámma-futébe (Seraskier of the West), the very man of whom we before had heard so much talk, came also and paid me a visit in my tent; for, being in a weak state, I had been obliged, when the sun became oppressive, to pitch my tent, as there was no shade. There being no other tent in the encampment, I received visits from several parties who wished to breakfast a little at their ease, and among others from a man called Kédel Batrám, Hallúf’s brother. Keghámma stated that he was certainly able to bring us to Kárká; but this was a mere pretence, and he himself retracted his promise shortly afterwards before the sheikh. Our cherished object lay still before us, at a considerable distance; but our friend Ghét thought that he had brought us already far enough to deserve some more presents, and plainly intimated as much to us through ʿAbdallah. Fortunately I had a handsome yellow cloth caftan with me, embroidered with gold, and towards evening, when I had recovered from a severe fit of fever which had suddenly attacked me in the afternoon, we went to pay our compliments to the chief, and begged him to accept of it; at the same time we told him we should be satisfied if we were enabled to visit the district belonging to the Keghámma. But the situation of the Arabs soon became more dangerous, and nothing was thought of but to retrace our steps westward with the greatest possible expedition.
I was lying sleepless in my tent, in a rather weak state, having scarcely tasted any kind of food for the last few days on account of my feverish state, when, in the latter part of the night, a great alarm was raised in the camp, and I heard the Arabs mount their horses and ride about in several detachments, raising their usual war-cry, “Yá riyáb, yá riyáb;” but I remained quietly on my mat, and was not even roused from my lethargical state when I received the intelligence that a numerous hostile army, consisting of the Woghda, the Médelé, the Shíri, and the people of the Eastern Keghámma, was advancing against the camp. I received this news with that indifference with which a sick and exhausted man regards even the most important events. Neither did I stir when, with the first dawn of day on the 21st, the enemy having actually arrived within a short distance, our friends left the camp in order to offer battle. I heard about ten shots fired, but did not think that the Arabs would be beaten. Suddenly Overweg, who had saddled his horse at the very beginning of the alarm, called out anxiously to me that our friends were defeated, and, mounting his horse, started off at a gallop. My mounted servant, Bú Zéd, had long taken to his heels; and thus, while Mohammed was hastily saddling my horse, I flung my bernús over me, and grasping my pistols and gun, and throwing my double sack over the saddle, I mounted and started off towards the west, ordering Mohammed to cling fast to my horse’s tail. It was the very last moment, for at the same time the enemy began to attack the east side of the camp. All the people had fled, and I saw only the chief slave of Ghét, who, with great anxiety, entreated me to take his master’s state sword with me, that it might not fall into the hands of the enemy.
But I had not gone a great distance when I heard firing close behind me, and, turning round, saw the Arab horsemen rallying, and with the cry, “He keléb, keléb,” turn round against the enemy, who had dispersed in order to collect the spoil. I went on in order to inform Mr. Overweg, who, together with the Arabs who were mounted on camels, and even several horsemen, had fled to some distance and posted themselves on a hill. Assuring him that the danger was over, I returned with him to the camp, where we were rather surprised to find that not only all our luggage was gone, but that not even a vestige of my tent was left.
The enemy, attracted only by the English tent and Sheikh Ghét’s baggage, had scarcely touched the effects of the other people, but considered my tent as a fair prize and ran away with it. But the Arabs pursuing them, we got back most of our things. A leathern English bag of mine which contained some articles of value had been cut open, just, as it seemed, at the moment when our friends came up with the enemy. Our chief loss consisted in our cooking utensils and provisions; I also much regretted the loss of an English Prayer-Book, which had belonged to Mr. Richardson. Four of the Arabs had been killed, and thirty-four of the enemy. Mr. Overweg was busily employed in dressing some severe wounds inflicted on our friends. The Arabs were furious at the insolence, as they called it, of the enemy who had dared to attack them in their own encampment, and they swore they would now go and burn down all their hamlets and their corn. The horsemen actually left, but returned in the course of the afternoon rather silently, with a sullen face and unfavourable tidings; and before sunset they were once more obliged to defend their own encampment against another attack of the energetic natives; they, however, succeeded in beating them off. Hallúf distinguished himself greatly by his valour, killing three or four of the enemy with his own hand.
But notwithstanding this little victory, the forebodings for the night were very unfavourable, and our friends would certainly have decamped immediately if they had not been afraid that in the darkness of the night the greater part might take to their heels, and that a shameful flight would be followed by great loss of life and property. Accordingly they determined to remain till the next morning. But an anxious and restless night it was; for they had received authentic news that a body of from thirty to forty Wadáy horsemen were to join their enemies that night and to make a joint and last attack upon them; and they were well aware that the enemy had only been beaten from want of horses. All the horses remained saddled, and the whole night they sounded the watchcry; but the most restless was the renegade Jew ʿAbdallah, who felt convinced that this would be his last night, and was most anxious to get a razor in order to shave his head before the hour of death.
Wednesday, Oct. 22.—The night passed on without the enemy appearing, and with the dawn of day the sign for decamping was given, when everybody endeavoured to get in advance of his neighbour. The enemy, as was positively stated afterwards, arrived there about an hour later; but seeing that we were gone, did not choose to pursue us. Thus we left the most interesting part of Kánem behind us, the country once so thickly studded with large populous and celebrated towns, such as Njímiye, Agháfi, and all those places which I shall describe in the Appendix from the account of the expeditions of Edrís Alawóma, with many rich valleys full of date-trees.
Keeping first in a westerly, and afterwards in a more south-westerly direction, through a rather uninteresting country, we arrived about eight o’clock in the morning in a wide vale called Tákulum, full of rich succulent herbage and fine trees, where, it being supposed that we were out of danger, it was decided to give the horses and camels a feed after having watered them. I, for my part, was extremely thankful for getting a few hours’ rest in the shade of a venerable acacia, near the gentle slope surrounding the hollow. But just in the greatest heat of the day we left this pleasant resting-place, near which is the ordinary residence of the keghámma, in the valley Kárafu, and followed a more north-westerly direction, ascending gradually from the vale, and entering a well-wooded district, where all the grass had recently been burnt, or was still burning; and in one place it was even with some danger that we found our way through the flames. This burning of the grass, as I have stated above, seems to be a general practice all over Negroland. Towards evening the country became quite open, and ahead of us a small range was seen, at the western foot of which our resting-place was said to be; but it seemed very distant, and it was quite dark when we made halt in two separate encampments, not being able to reach the point of destination. Our supper was very simple indeed; for, having lost all our provisions at the taking of the camp at Áláli, we were obliged to content ourselves with a few bad dates, the only thing we were able to obtain from our friend Sheikh Ghét.
Thursday, Oct. 23.—While our camels and people kept along the direct road, together with the train and part of the horsemen, Overweg and I, following Sheikh Ghét and his troop, took a more northerly direction, and passed the heat of the day in a fine valley. It was certainly one of the finest vales we had seen in the country, except that it did not produce date-trees. But the district of Shitáti, which we again had entered here, seems not to be favourable for that tree, while Shíri and the neighbourhood of Mawó is very productive in date-trees. Part of the bottom was laid out in cornfields, irrigated from Kháttatír, near which some huts were standing, while a larger village, at present deserted, is situated on the brow of the slope dominating the valley. It is called Burka-drússo, or Burka-drústo. Here we enjoyed a few hours of tranquil repose; but with the exception of this our enjoyment was very scanty, having nothing to breakfast upon but a handful of dates and some water. But our material wants were inconsiderable in comparison with the disappointment which we felt, as we clearly saw that all hope of reaching the Bahar el Ghazál, or even Mʿawó, was to be given up, and the hope of attaining those districts had been the only reason which had induced us to join our fate with this band of freebooters. We had spent all the property that remained to us to enable us to undertake this expedition, and our reflections therefore were far from pleasant.
When the heat of the day had passed by, the Arabs pursued their march, and we followed them, re-ascending the higher level and marching over a pleasant country well adorned with trees and bushes, while we left a hollow called Núkko on our left, one of the three vales of Shitáti which bear this name, and further on crossing another one called Arnánko. When night approached, our companions began to put their horses into a gallop in order to arrive betimes, while we preferred going on more slowly.
The country here became more undulating, and afterwards even rugged, and we made our way as well as we could in the dark, stumbling along over a rugged ground in a north-westerly direction, and were not a little delighted when at length we saw the fires of the encampment, which this time had not been pitched on the highest level, but rather in a hollow not far from the well. Its name is Bír el Hamésh, or Yégil, or, as it is generally pronounced, Yíggeli. We were the more delighted to reach it, as we found here, not only all our people and luggage, but also provisions, and we were nearly famished. Of course, we were most cheerfully hailed by those of our servants whom, with the remainder of the Arabs, we had left at the Bír el Kúrna, and who had felt the greatest anxiety about our safety, on account of the many unfavourable rumours which had reached them with regard to the proceedings and sufferings of our party. They had transported the camp from Bír el Kúrna to this place several days previously, and were looking forward to our return most anxiously. We immediately attacked a bowl of camel’s milk, and, thus materially comforted, rested outside our tents enjoying the freshness of the evening. The camp or dowar was rather narrow, being encumbered by the booty which had been taken from the enemy; and the people, dreading lest the enemy might follow them, all huddled closely together, and kept strict watch. In such circumstances the wailings of the women over the dead, which sounded through the night, accompanied by loud, mournful strokes on the great drum, could not fail to make a deep impression. However, we passed here tranquilly the following day, and enjoyed rest and repose the more as the weather was very oppressive.
We received here the positive news that the body of Wadáy horsemen who had come to the assistance of the Woghda, and had caused the Arabs so much fear and anxiety the day before, had returned to Mʿawó; and a very curious story was told with regard to them, which at once shows how highly these horsemen of Wadáy are respected by the Arabs, and the esteem which they themselves entertain for the latter. Thirty Wadáy horsemen were said to have arrived with the Woghda in consequence of their entreaties, and to have followed with them the traces of our friends, the Woghda representing to them that many of the latter had been killed. Thus they arrived in the morning when we had just left the camp at Áláli, and the dust raised by our host was plainly visible in the distance; but when the Woghda instigated the Wadáy people to go and attack that host, they wanted to assure themselves how many of the Arabs had fallen in the last battle, in which thirty-four of the Woghda were said to have been slain, and when they found only two tombs, the latter told them that in each there were ten bodies; but the Wadáy people, being anxious to make sure of the valour of their friends, had the tombs dug up, and found only two buried in each. Whereupon they stigmatized the Woghda as liars, and felt little inclined to follow the valiant robbers who had killed so many of the enemy, while they had lost so few of their own. But this story may have been adorned by our friends the Welád Slimán, who could not even deny that, besides a great deal of other booty from their own camp, which the enemy had succeeded in carrying away, the chief of the Woghda could pride himself on the red bernús which we had given as a present to Sheikh Ghét; nay, he could even boast of four horses taken from the Arabs.
Sunday, Oct. 26.—This and the following day the Arabs were all busy in writing, or getting letters written, to Kúkawa, as a courier was to leave. I myself was almost the only person who did not get a note ready; for I could not muster sufficient energy to write a letter. Had I been strong enough, I should have had sufficient leisure to make up the whole journal of my excursion to the eastern parts of Kánem; but I was quite unable, and the consequence was, that this part of my diary always remained in a very rough state. Sheikh Ghét, who thought that we were greatly indebted to him for having seen so much of the country, sent for a variety of things; but we were only able to comply with very few of his wishes. On our telling him that we were not at all satisfied with what we had seen, and that, in order not to waste more time, we had the strongest wish to return to Kúkawa as soon as possible, he wanted to persuade us that he himself was to leave for the capital of Bórnu in five or six days. But we prudently chose to provide for ourselves, and not rely upon his promise.
Monday, Oct. 27.—The courier for Kúkawa left in the morning, and in the evening a party of freebooters made an attack upon the camels of the Arabs, but, being pursued by the horsemen, whose great merit it is to be ready for every emergency, they were obliged to leave their booty, and be contented to escape with their lives. The vale in which the well is situated is rather more exuberant than is the case generally, and there were several pools of stagnant water, from which the cattle were watered. There was even a real jungle, and here and there the den of a ferocious lion, who did not fail to levy his tribute on the various species of animal property of our friends, and evinced rather a fancy for giving some little variety to his meals; for a horse, a camel, and a bullock became his prey.
Tuesday, Oct. 28.—Seeing that there was a caravan of people forming to go to Kúkawa, while the Arabs intended once more to return to Burka-drússo, we at once went to the chief to inform him that we had made up our minds to go with the caravan. A chief of the Haddáda, or rather Búngo, arrived with offerings of peace on the part of the Shíri, and came to see us, together with the chief mentioned above, Kédel Batrám who was the father-in-law of the khalífa of Mʿawó; Kóbber, or rather the head man of the Kóbber, and other great men of the Fugábú; and I amused them with my musical box. Overweg and I, disappointed in our expectations of penetrating further eastward, prepared for our return journey, and I bought a small skin of tolerable dates for half a túrkedí; while to ʿAbdallah, who had been our mediator with the chief, I made a present of a jeríd, in order not to remain his debtor.
All this time I felt very unwell, which I attribute principally to the great changes of atmosphere, the nights being cool and the days very warm.
Friday, Oct. 31.—Though we were determined to return to Kúkawa, we had yet once more to go eastward. The Arabs removed their encampment to Arnánko, the hollow which we passed on our way from Burka-drússo to Yégil. There had been a great deal of uncertainty and dispute amongst them with reference to the place which they were to choose for their encampment; but though, on the following day, very unfavourable news was brought with regard to the security of the road to Bórnu, the departure of the caravan nevertheless remained fixed for the 2nd November; for in the morning one of the Welád Slimán arrived from Kúkawa, accompanied by two Bórnu horsemen, bringing letters from the vizier, requesting the Arabs, in the most urgent terms, to remove their encampment without delay to Késkawa, on the shore of the lake, whither he would not fail to send the whole remainder of their tribe who at that time were residing in Kúkawa; for he had positive news, he assured them, that the Tuarek were meditating another expedition against them on a large scale.
The report seemed not without foundation; for the three messengers had actually met, on their road between Bárrowa and Ngégimi, a party of ten Tuarek, three on foot, and the rest on horseback, and had only escaped by retreating into the swamps formed by the lake. This news, of course, spread considerable anxiety amongst the Arabs, who were still more harassed the same day by information received to the effect that a party of fifteen Wadáy horsemen were lying in ambush in a neighbouring valley; and a body of horsemen were accordingly sent out to scour the country, but returned without having seen anybody.
Sunday, Nov. 2.—The day of our departure from Kánem at length arrived. Sorry as we were to leave the eastern shore of the lake unexplored, we convinced ourselves that the character of our mission did not allow us to risk our fate any longer by accompanying these freebooters. The camels we had taken with us on this expedition were so worn out that they were unable to carry even the little luggage we had left, and Sheikh Ghét made us a present of two camels, which, however, only proved sufficient for the short journey to Kúkawa; for the one fell a few paces from the northern gate on reaching the town, and the other a short distance from the southern gate on leaving it again on our expedition to Músgu.
The caravan with which we were to proceed was numerous; but the whole of the people were Kánembú, who carried their little luggage on pack-oxen and a few camels, while, besides ourselves, there were only two horsemen. But there were some respectable people among them, and even some women richly adorned with beads, and, with their fine regular features and slender forms, forming a strong contrast to the ugly physiognomy and square forms of the Bórnu females. The difference between the Bórnu and Kánembú is remarkable, although it is difficult to account for by historical deduction.
We were so fortunate as to perform our home-journey without any serious accident, although we had some slight alarms. The first of these occurred when we approached the town of Berí, and found all the inhabitants drawn up in battle-array, at a narrow passage some distance from the town; and at the first moment there was considerable alarm on both sides: but we soon learned that they had taken us for Tuarek, of whom a numerous freebooting party, consisting of two hundred camels and about as many horses, had a short time previously carried away all the cattle belonging to the place. The state of the country was so insecure that the inhabitants would not allow Mr. Overweg to stay here, notwithstanding his earnest protestations, so that he was obliged to make up his mind to proceed with the caravan, although he was sensible of the danger connected with such an undertaking; and certainly, if we had met with a tolerably strong party of the Tuarek, our companions would have afforded us very little protection. We were so fortunate, however, as to pass through this infested track just at the time when an expedition, laden with booty, had returned homewards.
We, however, met more than forty Búdduma half a day’s journey beyond Ngégimi, armed with spears and shields, and clad in nothing but their leather apron. They had been occupied in preparing salt from the roots of the siwák or Capparis sodata; and when they saw the first part of our caravan coming through the thick forest, they commenced an attack, so that Overweg and I were obliged to fire a few random shots over their heads, when, seeing that we were stronger than they had supposed, and recognizing some friends among the Kánembú, they allowed us to pass unmolested. But our whole march from Ngégimi to Bárrowa, through the thick underwood with which the shores of the lake are here overgrown, resembled rather a flight than anything else.
On the 10th we reached the komádugu; and after some lively negotiation with the governor or shitíma, who resides in the town of Yó, I and my companion were allowed to cross the river the same afternoon; for it has become the custom with the rulers of Bórnu to use the river as a sort of political quarantine, a proceeding which of course they can only adopt as long as the river is full. During the greater part of the year everybody can pass at pleasure. Even after we had crossed, we were not allowed to continue our journey to the capital, before the messenger, who had been sent there to announce our arrival, had returned with the express permission that we might go on. The shores round the komádugu were greatly changed, the river being now at its highest. Extensive patches were cultivated with wheat, being regularly laid out in small quadrangular beds of from four to five feet in diameter, which were watered morning and evening from the river by means of buckets and channels.
We reached Kúkawa on the 14th, having met on the road a party of about fifty Welád Slimán, who were proceeding to join their companions in Kánem. We were well received by our host, the vizier of Bórnu. We had already heard from the governor of Yó, that the sheikh and his vizier were about to leave in a few days on an expedition; and, being desirous of employing every means of becoming acquainted with new regions of this continent, we could not but avail ourselves of this opportunity, however difficult it was for us, owing to our entire want of means, to make the necessary preparations for another campaign, and although the destination of the expedition was not quite certain.
XLII. WARLIKE PREPARATIONS AGAINST MÁNDARÁ
Tuesday, Nov. 25.—Ten days after having returned to our headquarters, from the wearisome journey to Kánem, I left Kúkawa again, in order to join a new warlike expedition. The sheikh and his vizier, with the chief part of the army, had set out already, the previous Saturday. The route had not yet been determined upon—it was, at least, not generally known; but Wándalá, or, as the Kanúri call it, Mándará was mentioned as the direct object of the march, in order to enforce obedience from the prince of that small country, who, protected by its mountains, had behaved in a refractory manner. The chief motive of the enterprise, however, consisted in the circumstance of the coffers and slave-rooms of the great men being empty; and, a new supply being wanted, from whence to obtain it was a question of minor importance. There was just then much talk about a final rupture between ʿAbd eʾ Rahmán and the vizier, the former having intimate relations with the prince of Mándará; and it was for that reason that Mr. Overweg had at first thought it better to remain behind.
My means were scanty in the extreme, and did not allow me to have a mounted servant, my camp-followers consisting merely of the same naga or “jíge,” as the Kanúri call the female camel, which had proved of the highest value to me on the journey to Kánem, and of two very indifferent Fezzáni lads, weak in mind and body,—Mohammed ben Habíb and Mohammed ben Ahmed. The weather being temperate, and my spirits excellent, I followed cheerfully the Ngórnu road, with which I was well acquainted. The country looked much more interesting now than three months before, on my return from Ádamáwa. Then all was dry and barren, scarcely a single fresh blade had started from the ground, and I was obliged to draw with immense exertion my supply of water from a deep well near Kaine; now the ground was covered with young herbs, the trees were in foliage, and, near the very place of Kaine where the sheikh with his camp-followers had rested the first night, a large lake had been formed by the rains. This lake, which is surrounded by shady trees, retains its water until two or three months after the rainy season, when it begins gradually to dry up. I was therefore enabled to water my horse without any further trouble, after which I followed my people, who were in advance. Here I met with my friend Háj Edrís and Shitíma Makarémma, who were just returning from the camp. They told me that the sheikh had encamped that day at Kúkia, beyond Ngórnu. I therefore made a short halt at noon on this side of that town, in order to reach the camp during the evening without staying in the place; for the city, on all sides, at about an hour’s distance, is almost entirely surrounded by fields devoid of trees. After I had enjoyed about an hour’s rest, Overweg arrived with the disagreeable tidings that his camel, soon after leaving the gate, had fallen, and was unable to get up again even after the luggage had been removed. He therefore sent his servant Ibrahím in advance, in order to procure another camel from the vizier, while he remained with me. When we set out again we took the direct route to the camp, the road being enlivened by horsemen, camels, and pedestrians. The country on this side was only cultivated in some places; we perceived, however, two miles behind Ngórnu a carefully kept cotton-plantation, and the fields near the village of Kúkia were well cultivated. The whole of this fertile plain became a prey to the inundations of the Tsád in the year 1854, caused by a sinking of the ground, when the whole country was changed in the most marvellous way. Here we obtained a first view of the camp with its tents; but it made no remarkable impression upon me, being still in an unfinished state, including only those people who were in the most intimate connection with the court.
The “ngáufate” having its fixed arrangements, our place was assigned near the tents of Lamíno, at some distance east from those of Háj Beshír. As the greater part of the courtiers were taking at least a portion of their harím with them to the “kerígu,” a simple tent was not sufficient for them; but by means of curtains made of striped cotton-stuff, a certain space is encompassed in order to insure greater privacy. For the sheikh and the vizier, as long as we remained in the Bórnu territories, at every new encampment an enclosure of matting was erected; for it is not the custom, as has been asserted, to separate the royal camp from that of the rest, at least not on expeditions into a hostile country, nor has it been so in former times. The common soldiers had no further protection, except some light and small huts with high gables, which some of them had built with the tall stalks of the Indian corn, which lay in great abundance on the stubble-fields.
But I shall first say a few words about our friend Lamíno, whom I have already occasionally mentioned, and with whom on this expedition we came into closer contact. This man furnishes an example how in this country, notwithstanding the immense difference of civilization, in reality matters take the same course as in Europe, where notorious rogues and sharpers often become the best police functionaries. Lamíno, originally “el Amín,” had formerly been a much-dreaded highway-robber, but had now become chef de police, or, as the Háusa people would say, “serkí-n-karfi,” being, in consequence of his hard-heartedness and total want of the gentler feelings, of the greatest importance to the vizier, whose mild character did not allow him personally to adopt severe measures. Imprisoning people and ordering them to be whipped constituted one of Lamíno’s chief pleasures. He could, however, at times be very gentle and amiable; and there was nothing which afforded greater amusement to my companion and me than to hear him talk in the most sentimental manner of the favourite object of his affections, a woman whom he carried with him on this expedition. It caused us also great delight to witness the terror he felt at our comparing the shape of the earth to an ostrich’s egg; for he seemed to be quite at a loss to understand how he should be able to preserve his balance on such a globe, with his great heaviness and clumsiness.
Wednesday, Nov. 26.—Early in the morning the signal for the decampment of the army was given in front of the tent of the sheikh, by the sound of the great drum; and in broad battle-array (“báta”) the army with its host of cavalry moved onwards over the plain, which was covered with tall reeds, and showed only here and there a few signs of cultivation. This time I still remained with the camels and the train-oxen, which, mixed with pedestrians and some single horsemen in long unbounded lines, kept along the road, while single troops of Kánembú spearmen, in their light fanciful garments, mostly consisting of a small apron of rags, or a hide tied round the loins, and armed with their light wooden shields, passed the luggage-train, shouting out in their wild native manner. Thus, after a march of about eleven miles, we reached the cotton-fields of Yédi, a town of considerable magnitude, surrounded by a clay wall in a state of good repair. We passed it on a rising ground to our left, while the country on the north-western side spread out in one continuous sandy plain, dotted here and there by a few dúm-bushes (ngílle) and by a few single dúm-palms. On this side of the town, at about a quarter of an hour’s distance, after the autumnal rains, a large pond is formed, on the borders of which gardens of onions are planted by the inhabitants of Yédi, and irrigated with the aid of khattatír.
The sun was intensely hot; and the heat at noon was very great. Strange to say, during all this time I neglected to make thermometrical observations; and as far as I am aware Overweg did not pay more attention to this subject than myself: but the reason of this neglect was, that we usually started early in the morning, and seldom had shade in the neighbourhood of our tents at noon; for these, which by this time were so much worn that every object inside cast a shadow as well as outside, could give us, of course, no measure for the temperature of the air. Our protector Lamíno afterwards sent us an excellent dish of rice boiled in milk and covered with bread and honey. The rice was of a whiteness unusual in this country. Having received likewise a dish of bread and honey from the vizier, we thought it our duty to pay him a visit, and through his mediation to the sheikh also. The sheikh had alighted at his spacious clay mansion outside the walls of the city; and he was just occupied with granting a grand reception to the townspeople.
After the usual exchange of compliments, our discourse turned upon Captain Denham (Ráís Khalíl), who had once taken the same road in conjunction with Kashélla Bárka Ghaná, and with Bú-Khalúm. On this occasion also the manner in which old Mʿallem Shádeli or Chádeli, then a simple fáki, who was present, behaved towards that Christian was mentioned. We related to them what a faithful description Major Denham had given, in the narrative of his adventures, of the hostile disposition of the fáki, when the old mʿallem, who was now one of the grandees of the empire, in order to revenge himself upon Major Denham and ourselves, described to the assembly, with sundry sarcastic hints, how he had seen the Major, after his shameful defeat at Musfáya, half dead and stripped of his clothes, and exhibiting to uninitiated eyes all the insignia which mark the difference between the faithful and unfaithful. The whole spirit in which the story was told bore evidence of the enlightened character and the tolerance of these gentlemen.
All the people behaved very friendly; and the sheikh sent us in the evening two sheep, a load of “ngáberí” or sorghum, besides two dishes of prepared food. We were also entertained by a young musician, who had accompanied Mr. Overweg during his voyage on the Tsád; and in this way there was no end of feasting. Nor was there any want of intellectual food, the inquisitive and restless vizier being desirous of learning from us as much as possible on this expedition, where he enjoyed plenty of leisure. Here we remained also the following day, as some more detachments were to join the army.[82]
Friday, Nov. 28.—The ngáufate advanced as far as the town of Márte. Not far from Yédi there extends in a southerly direction, a very expansive plain devoid of any sort of vegetation except some mimosas. This is the beginning of the “fírki” ground, which comprises so large a space in the southern regions of Bórnu, and of which I have repeatedly spoken on former occasions; but the plantation of the Holcus cernuus, called “másakwá” or “mósogá” (which is limited to this peculiar territory), had not turned out well this year, in consequence of the scarcity of rain. I had marched in advance with my camel, when the vizier got sight of me, and begged me to come to the sheikh. After having saluted me in the most friendly way, he asked me why I always wore my pistols in my belt round the waist, instead of fixing them at the saddle-bow; but he praised my foresight when I appealed to the example of Ráís Khalíl, who, when thrown from his horse, on his unlucky expedition to Mándará, remained without a weapon in his hand. However, he was of opinion that at present, with such a large army, no danger of this kind was to be feared. He showed me also, in the most flattering manner, that he had imitated my example of having my chronometer continually girded around my waist; and he assured me that he found it very convenient.
The troop was here proceeding in stately order, and a broad line of battle deployed, one officer, with the title of jérma, riding in advance, and being followed by the four fan-bearers of the sheikh, in full array; but a little further on, a small tract of underwood compelled them to change their order of march, and proceed in one long line. The vizier was kind enough to send me a message to the effect that I had better get in front, so as not to be in the midst of the confusion. The place of encampment was chosen on the north-west side of the town of Márte; and when the sheikh had dismounted, in order to take possession of the mat house which had been prepared for him, the whole host of cavalry galloped up in the fiercest manner, before I was able to get out of their way, so that I received a very severe shock from a horseman, who struck against me with great violence.
In the afternoon my friend and companion on my journey to Ádamáwa, Kashélla Bíllama, called on me; and we mounted on horseback, in order to pay a visit to the market, which is held every Friday outside the western gate of the town, where an open area surrounded by several wells spreads out. But the market, at least that day, was very insignificant: it was not furnished with a single shed or stall, and not a single article of manufacture was exposed, Negro millet, butter, and wooden bowls being almost the only articles offered for sale; and sellers, as well as buyers, were very few in number. The town contains about four thousand inhabitants, and, taking into account the strategical art of this country, possesses proper defences, the clay wall being in a good state of repair, and having a gate on each side excepting the side of the market, where there are two. Towards the east there is a little cultivated ground, and on the north a small suburb, consisting of large, conical, thatched huts, where, besides Kanúri, several Fúlbe or Felláta families are living. The interior of the town consists of narrow lanes; and most of the houses are clay buildings. There was nothing interesting to be seen; but I was agreeably surprised when my companion, who was a native of this place, took me to pay my compliments to his mother, who kept a small shed, or rather, as we should say, a shop, in the little market-place inside the town. It was certainly a trait of a good-natured and friendly disposition.
We remained here the following day; but our stay was not at all pleasant, there being very little shade near the encampment, while our tents were so worn that they scarcely afforded any protection against the sun. Owing to the smallness of my means, I had been obliged to leave my large tent in Kúkawa.
Sunday, Nov. 30.—The following morning I was obliged to remain behind the army a considerable time, in order to allow the air to acquire a more genial temperature. I enjoyed the more the beautiful morning, although the country did not possess many attractions. Here, also, it exhibited that black boggy soil, called “fírki,” which is peculiar to the southern parts of Bórnu, though near the village of Little Márte, or “Márte ghaná,” some slight variation was seen, in a crop of Indian corn or “holcus” still standing in the fields; the ears, however, were quickly plucked off by the undisciplined army. Further on I reached a group of villages ornamented by a cluster of beautiful tamarind-trees, and here lay down awhile to enjoy the delicious shade. Numbers of people were resting here and there, in order to partake of the hospitality of the villagers; for, to the ruin of the country there is no commissariat in these armies to provide for the wants of the private individual, and every one must supply himself with food in the best manner he can.
Our march, however, was very short, the encampment having been chosen on the west side of the town of Alá. This town also is of some importance, and surrounded by a wall in good repair, with two gates on the north and west sides and only one on the south and east. The interior is enlivened by large trees, consisting of chédia (elastic gum), and kúrna-trees, while the huts are remarkable for their high conical roof, the thatch of which, in a great many instances, is interlaced by the clasps of the Cucurbita lagenaria, the whole looking very cheerful. The sheikh having requested me repeatedly to give my compass up to him, as he imagined it would be sufficient for one of us to possess such an instrument, I thought it prudent to offer him my musical box as a present, remarking that I would willingly give away such articles, but not scientific instruments. Several hares had been caught in the course of the day; and in the evening we had some of them very palatably dressed by the experienced female slave of Lamíno.
Monday, Dec. 1.—Soon after starting, early in the morning we had to traverse some underwood, which caused a great rush and much confusion among the undisciplined army, so that two or three horsemen were seriously injured. On such occasions, as well as in the thick covert of the forest, I had a full opportunity of testing the valuable properties of the Arab stirrups, which protect the whole leg, and, if skilfully managed, keep every obtruder at a respectful distance; indeed I am almost sure that if, on these my African wanderings, I had made use of English stirrups I should have lost both my legs. Our way afterwards led over monotonous fírki ground, where we were cheered by the sight of some fine crops of sorghum. Detached hamlets were seen in every direction, even where the country did not present any traces of cultivation; but with the exception of the Shúwa villages, this province does not contain many small hamlets, the population being concentrated in larger places. Underwood succeeded to the fírki ground, and extended to the very walls of the large town of Díkowa.
The sight of this town, with its walls over-towered by the regularly shaped crowns of magnificent fig-trees, was very imposing. The western wall, along which our road lay, was covered with women and children, and we met a numerous procession of females in their best attire, who were going to salute their sovereign upon his arrival at the encampment; and coming from the capital, which is distinguished by the ugliness of its female inhabitants, I was agreeably surprised at their superior countenance and figure. But though the observer might be gratified with the personal appearance of the natives, their industry was questionable; for only a small tract of cultivated ground was to be seen on this side of the town, girt by a forest of mighty trees.
The encampment, or “ngáufate,” began to form close to the southern wall of the town, amidst sandy ground free from trees, and completely surrounded by a thick covert. Although it was December, the sun was very powerful; and, until the camels arrived, I sat down in the shade of a “bíto,” or Balanites, while the encampment was spreading out in all directions, and approached the edge of the covert. I then gave up my shady place to Kashélla Játo, an officer of the musketeers, who, in acknowledgment, offered me a clear piece of delicious gum, just taken from the tree and full of sweet fluid; in which state it is certainly a delicacy, and is so esteemed here as well as in Western Negroland. The encampment springing up gradually from the ground, with its variety of light dwellings built only for the moment—the multifarious appearance of armed people—the number of horses of all colours, some of the most exquisite beauty—the uninterrupted train of beasts of burden, camels, and pack-oxen, laden with the tents, furniture, and provisions, and mounted by the wives and concubines of the different chiefs, well dressed and veiled,—altogether presented a most interesting picture; for now almost the whole host or “kebú,” had collected, and twenty thousand men, with ten thousand horses, and at least as many beasts of burden, were no doubt assembled on this spot. At length our two tents also were pitched, and we could make ourselves as comfortable as the scanty shade which they afforded allowed us.
In the evening, our conversation with the vizier turning upon the means which remained for Bórnu to attain once more to her former greatness, these devastating expeditions and slave-hunts fell under discussion; and I took the liberty to indicate, in opposition to such a system, the necessity of a well-established government, with a strong military force capable of extending their dominion. I also called the attention of the vizier to the point, that, as they could never rely upon the Turks, who might easily cut off all supplies of foreign merchandize, it was greatly to their interest to keep open to themselves that large river which passed a short distance to the south of their dominions, and which would enable them to supply themselves with every kind of European manufacture at a much cheaper rate than they were able to obtain them by the northern route. He did not hesitate to throw the whole blame upon the former sultans; but those poor men, when they possessed the dominion of the Kwána tribe, probably had no idea that the river which ran through their territory joined the sea; and even if they had, the relation between Islam and Christianity at that period was of so hostile a character, that, for the very reason that this stream might open to the Christians a more easy access to their country, they shunned any nearer connection with it as dangerous. However, under the present entirely altered state of affairs, there is no question that an energetic native chief, basing his power on a supply of European merchandize, as facilitated by the river Bénuwé, might easily dominate a great part of Central Africa; but energy is just the very thing these people are wanting in.
From this point of our discourse there was an easy transition to that of the abolition of slavery; and here my late lamented friend Mr. Overweg made a most eloquent speech on this important question. The vizier could not bring forward any other argument in his defence, than that the slave-trade furnished them with the means of buying muskets; and, lamentable as it is, this is certainly the correct view of the subject, for even on the west coast the slave-trade originated in the cupidity of the natives in purchasing the arms of Europeans. Such is the history of civilization! If the poor natives of Africa had never become acquainted with this destructive implement of European ingenuity, the slave-trade would never have reached those gigantic proportions which it has attained. For at first the natives of Africa wanted firearms as the surest means of securing their independence of, and superiority over, their neighbours; but in the further course of affairs, these instruments of destruction became necessary, because they enabled them to hunt down less favoured tribes, and, with a supply of slaves so obtained, to procure for themselves those luxuries of European civilization with which they had likewise become acquainted. This is the great debt which the European owes to the poor African, that, after having caused, or at least increased, this nefarious system on his first bringing the natives of those regions into contact with his state of civilization, which has had scarcely any but a demoralizing effect, he ought now also to make them acquainted with the beneficial effects of that state of society. Entering, therefore, into the views of our hosts, I told them that their country produced many other things which they might exchange for firearms, without being forced to lay waste the whole of the neighbouring countries, and to bring misery and distress upon so many thousands.
I informed them of the last negotiations of Her Britannic Majesty’s messengers with the King of Dahomé, when our friend, listening with the greatest interest to the account of these noble endeavours of Her Majesty’s Government, which he could not but admire, declared, in the most distinct manner, that, if the British Government were able to furnish them with a thousand muskets and four cannons, they would be willing to subscribe any obligatory article for abolishing the slave-trade in their country—of course not including, all at once, domestic slavery; for such a measure would scarcely be feasible in a country where all the relations of domestic life are based upon this system. But the abolition of the foreign slave-trade would be the beginning of a better system. However, I told them that, supposing Government were to entertain such a proposal, the first thing for them to do was to open themselves a road to the river Bénuwé, as it would be difficult, not only with respect to the state of the country to be traversed, but also on account of the suspicions of the Turks, to provide them with such a military store by way of the desert. But at present this whole question has been superseded; the vizier himself has succumbed, and his master, the Sheikh ʿOmár, although he has been fortunate enough once more to usurp the sovereign authority, seems scarcely sufficient to hold out any guarantee of the stability of his dynasty. Moreover, the slave-trade at present is, in fact, abolished on the north coast; and this circumstance must eventually exercise a great influence over the destinies of Bórnu, on account of its central situation, especially if at length a regular intercourse be established on the river Bénuwé.
It was our lot to remain here several days; for while the Kanúri people, who were expected to join the expedition, had already assembled in sufficient numbers, only a very small portion of the indigenous Arab or Shúwa population had as yet come up; for almost all of them live in the south-eastern parts of the country, where they have taken possession of the deserted seats of former tribes, which were annihilated or weakened in the relentless wars between Islamism and Paganism. On the first day of our arrival, our encampment was very comfortable; but every day that we stayed here it became more confined, owing principally to the numerous cavalry of these Arab tribes, almost all of whom are mounted; and many a newcomer was seen hurrying about without being able to find a spot to lie down, or to meet with friends to treat him. I myself had to entertain a respectable man among these Shúwa, of the name of Háj Hamadán, belonging to the tribe of the Hasúnna.
This man, who generally had his settlement far to the east, in the Wady Guskáb, had come some time previously to Logón in order to pay a visit to some relations of his, and had now joined this expedition. But one must be very careful with these Shúwa; for, to use a common expression, if you give them an inch, they are wont to take an ell. But for their Jewish character, I should have liked to enter into more intimate relations with them than I actually did.
Their emigration into these regions, at least several centuries ago, is certainly not without interest; and, as I have already had occasion to observe in another place, they preserve the characteristic type of their race very distinctly—a middle-sized, slender figure (which, however, is apt to become fuller as they advance in years), small pleasing features, and a dark olive complexion. Their dialect is very peculiar; and while it lays claim to a far greater purity than belongs to the dialects of the coast, by the profusion of vowels which it has preserved, its character is deteriorated, and becomes nearly ridiculous, by the continued repetition and insertion of certain words. A Shúwa is not able to say three words without inserting his favourite term “kúch, kúch,” which corresponds to the English word “thorough,” but which is not Arabic at all. When they omit the word “kúch,” they make use of another term, “bérketek,” “your worship,” which at once bears testimony to the servile and degraded position which they occupy in Negroland, although in Bórnu they are still treated with some indulgence and lenity, especially since the time when Mohammed Tiráb, the father of the present vizier, who belonged to the tribe of the Sálamát, attained the highest degree of power and influence in the country. In Wádáy again, even at the present time, they are treated very badly.
Of Kanúri people, besides a few smaller bodies of troops, only two officers, or kashéllas, ʿAlí Marghí and Jérma, were wanting. All the officers and bodies of troops on this side of the komádugu of Bórnu, the so-called Yeou, were collected together, the only exception being Kashélla Mánzo, my hospitable host in Zurríkulo, whose presence at his post was required on account of the Tuarek; for, as regards the officers and chiefs of the provinces on the other side of the komádugu, nobody is required to take part in these expeditions of the sheikh, every officer remaining at his post, except when his master enters upon a war in his own quarters.
While the encampment itself presented considerable interest, as being the temporary abode of so many people, the town of Díkowa, near which we were encamped, seemed well deserving some attention, as having been repeatedly the residence of the rulers of the country, and being still one of the largest towns in the kingdom. I therefore paid a visit to it in the afternoon of the second day of our stay, being accompanied by my friend Bíllama. We entered the town by the western gate; and I saw that the walls were about thirty feet high, and terraced on the inside like those of the capital, and of considerable breadth at the base: they were in a state of good repair. I was struck by the height and round shape of the huts, which entirely wanted the characteristic top, or, as the Kanúri people call it, kógi ngímbe, and were of the same kind as I had observed in the other towns of this southern province. Every hut had its little courtyard, in some of which vegetation was seen, mostly karás.
The further we proceeded, the more I was pleased with the general appearance of the town, the exterior of which had made a favourable impression upon me on our first arrival. Large, beautiful, wide-spreading fig-trees, ngábore, chédia or elastic gum-trees, and kórna-trees, spread their shade all around, and two or three isolated papaw-trees, or as the Kanúri call them, bambús-másarbe, with their remarkable feathery crowns and their smooth virgin-like stems, formed a lively contrast to the broad-leafed canopy of the other trees, while the hedges and fences of the courtyards were partly enlivened by a luxurious creeper called “dagdágel” by the natives. The real nucleus of the town seemed to consist entirely of clay houses.
After a very pleasant ride, we reached the house of the “maínta,” or governor, who still enjoys a certain degree of independence. The chief ornament of the place in front of his house was the most splendid caoutchouc-tree I have ever seen; indeed I can scarcely imagine that the diameter of its crown, which was so regularly and symmetrically shaped that it appeared as if effected by art, measured less than from seventy to eighty feet. It really formed a beautiful fáge, or, as the Háusa people call it, íchenbatú, or open council-hall, such as are common in these places; but at present no political business of any importance was transacted here, and it formed a favourite lounge for idle people, amongst whom there was a troop of musicians, playing lustily upon their instruments to console the petty chief for the loss of his former power, which had dwindled away to a mere shadow. I would gladly have paid him a visit; but, poor as I was at the time, and without a single article worthy of acceptance, I was rather glad that I was under no obligation to him. The interruption in the daily course of life of the inhabitants, by the presence of the army, was the more to be lamented, as it prevented me from becoming an eyewitness to the chief industry of the natives, which consists in weaving, and manufacturing into shirts, the cotton which they grow; for they are almost exclusively cotton-growers, and have very little corn. But, although they are able to produce a fine sort of texture, they are very badly off for dyeing, and in this respect are far outstripped by the inhabitants of Ujé and Mákari. Instead of the beating of shirts, which forms so pleasant a sound in many other industrial towns of Negroland, there was nothing to be heard but the sound which proceeded from the powder-mill, if I may be allowed to give this grand name to a yard in which eight slaves were employed in pounding powder in large wooden mortars; for this is the way in which powder is prepared in Negroland, and during my stay in Bagírmi every time I had my coffee pounded (as I did not possess a coffee-mill), I excited the suspicion that I was preparing powder. Of course the presence of the army was the reason why so little activity was to be seen at present, and the little market, or durríya, which is held in the afternoon, was very badly attended; but the size and populousness of the town made such an impression upon me, that I thought myself justified in rating the number of inhabitants at about twenty-five thousand.
Altogether I was so much pleased with the character of the place, that on expressing my satisfaction to one of the inhabitants who came to salute my companion, with the words, “Átema bílla ngílla” (“This is a fine town”), he replied, with conscious pride, “Áte bílla déka gení; áte bílla maíwa” (“This is not a country town; this is a royal residence”). We reached the gate on the north-west side of the town, just at the moment when ʿAbd eʾ Rahmán, the eldest brother of the Sheikh ʿOmár, arrived with a party of horsemen. What his business was I do not know; but before the expedition left the town, there had been a great many unfavourable rumours concerning his ambitious designs, and the malcontents expected that he would avail himself of this opportunity for striking a blow at the vizier, in order to prevent the expedition from proceeding against Mándará, as he himself was supposed to be on friendly terms with the chief of that country. But whatever may have been his intentions, he found his rival still too strong; and, after a friendly parting from his brother, he retraced his steps.
The view over the encampment, which presented itself when from the north I turned to the south-west side of the town, was extremely interesting; and I kept along the higher ground formed by the rubbish which had accumulated at the foot of the wall. Tents of every description and size—light sheds constructed with the long stalks of Indian corn, supported by four poles, and connected lightly at the top and forming high-topped gables—horses and men, all in the greatest confusion, presented a busy scene of animated life; but the place where our tents were pitched had become so confined, that I was glad to avail myself of any opportunity which presented itself of roving about in the neighbourhood.
The most attractive place was the komádugu, or watercourse, which passes at some distance to the south of the town, and is distinguished by the special name of Yálowe. It was a very charming spot, winding along through a rich and varied forest, bordered by an uninterrupted line of the finest fig-trees, principally of the kind called “ngábore.” The channel itself was only about forty yards wide, encompassed by banks of from twelve to fifteen feet in height, and at present it was not enlivened by a continuous stream, but contained several detached pools of stagnant water. Although the water was cool, and not disagreeable to the taste, still it was not very pure, and could not but contain the germs of much disease. This is the same komádugu with which, in its upper course in the territory of Ujé, I had become acquainted on my journey to Ádamáwa. The banks all around were enlivened by horses and pack-oxen, who were enjoying the rich verdure; and there was not a shady tree but had been taken possession of by a troop of Kánembú or Kanúri, in order to find that comfortable repose which the noisy encampment could not afford.
Having heard that the wealth of the inhabitants of Díkowa consisted of cotton, I expected to find extensive well-kept cotton-plantations; but, although the article was cultivated to a great extent, I was astonished at the neglected appearance which it exhibited, the cotton-fields being almost buried beneath the thicket, and overgrown not only with rank grass, but even with trees and bushes, so that scarcely any space was left for the plants to spread out; nevertheless their luxuriant growth bore ample testimony to the rich nature of the soil, and gave an idea of the wealth that lies buried in these regions. I have already observed, on another occasion, that the natives of Negroland take very little care of their cotton-plantations; and there is no doubt that, if sufficient care was bestowed, quite a different quality might be produced.
I roved about in this wild and fertile region till I was entirely hemmed in by an impenetrable thicket. While returning hence to our encampment by a more westerly path, I was ruminating in my mind how the former rulers of this country had evinced so much more feeling for the bounty and beauty of nature than its present possessors; for, while these have chosen for their residence the most monotonous district of the empire, the former selected those parts which nature itself had embellished—the shores of the so-called Yeou, or the komádugu Wáube, and this fine watercourse of Díkowa; and they not only chose the most interesting spots, but they even embellished them by art, as the large artificial basins in the neighbourhood of Ghasréggomo, Ghámbarú, and Dámasak amply testify. In this respect it is not uninteresting that we are informed by the Imám Áhmed, the historian of the King Edrís Alawóma, that his master, when he visited the town of Fíka, could not forego the pleasure of paying a visit to the famous little alpine lake which lies at some distance from that town. Although the country of Bórnu is far from being the most favoured part of Negroland, yet the shores of these watercourses are very rich indeed, and capable of maintaining a numerous population.
In returning to our encampment, I passed the market, or durríya, which was held every afternoon on the west side of the encampment. It was really a busy scene, not yielding in importance to the little daily market of the capital; and this was not at all marvellous, as a greater crowd of people, and a far greater number of horses, were gathered here than the average population of Kúkawa. Not only were provisions, such as meat, grain, beans, ground-nuts, and other articles of a like description, offered for sale, but even small luxuries; and there was a good deal of bartering, as the buyers were destitute of currency—kúngona, or cowries, as well as gábagá, or cotton strips. I also observed that the encampment, especially on this side, where it was skirted by a thick covert of trees, was encircled by a living wall of light Kánembú spearmen, who were keeping watch; for although the army was still in its own territory, yet, in the weak state of the government, a certain degree of insecurity already commences here; and the very first evening of our being encamped on this spot, the ngáufate was roused by the gangéma, or announcement by beat of drum, to the effect that everybody should be on his guard against horse-stealers.
While the country around presented interesting features, and the encampment itself exhibited a scene of great variety, the time we spent here passed away comfortably and agreeably, with the sole exception that the space allotted to us was too confined to be comfortable. We were on the most friendly terms with the sheikh as well as with his vizier; and all court etiquette was dispensed with. This went so far that I and my companion accommodated our noble and princely friends with our woollen jackets and drawers; for they began to feel the cold at night very severely, and on these occasions the very respectable Háj Edrís had to play the part of a royal laundress.
Already, during our hibernal stay in the country of Aír, we had been obliged to accommodate our old and austere friend Ánnur and his numerous relatives with our Turkish waistcoats: but we had not yet condescended to give away our under-clothing; and being ourselves extremely poor and destitute in every respect, it was certainly not a little privation we imposed upon ourselves. The clothes of the sheikh and his vizier were all very wide, and not fit for keeping out the cold. I have repeatedly had occasion to mention how sensitive the Africans are to cold; and I am persuaded that, in the burning regions of Central Africa, a good cargo of warm under-clothing would find a ready sale, especially if it should arrive in the months of December and January. But neither did our noble hosts, on their part, fail to do everything in their power to render our situation as comfortable as possible; and it was very satisfactory to see how anxious the vizier was to supply us with all desirable information.
One evening, at a late hour, when I was reposing in my tent and about to go to bed, he sent for me in the greatest hurry, as if my life or death were at stake; and upon hastening thither, anxious to hear what was the matter, I was told that the vizier had been informed of a person being in the encampment who, like my old friend the mʿallem Katúri, had accompanied the memorable expedition of Ámba Sámbo, the warlike chief of Chámba, towards the country of Ígbo on the sea-coast. But while the latter had gone to Mbáfu with the main body of the army, the adventurous proceedings of that person had not even been limited by the boundaries of the sea; and he informed me, in the most positive and conclusive manner, that the body of troops which he accompanied had sailed along a rocky coast for fifteen days, when they unexpectedly met with an island, where they took possession of a number of muskets; their owners, who were all dressed in jackets, having taken refuge in their large vessel.
He did not doubt that these people were Christians, and according to the description which he gave me of the vessel, there can scarcely be any doubt that it was a European one; but I did not feel quite certain as to the point whether he had navigated a large river, or the open sea, though I think it probable they went down the Niger, and surprised one of the European traders at the mouth of the river. At any rate, however, this is an extremely interesting circumstance. I apprehend that the chiefs of Ádamáwa will hesitate in future to extend their expeditions so far, after an English steamer has gone up the river to the very heart of their own country. It was this same Bórnu horseman who informed me that, on that expedition, all the horses had died from a disease proceeding from worms.
While chatting together upon these subjects till after midnight, I had an opportunity of giving the vizier some little information regarding the peculiar character of the maritime power of the Imám of Maskat, of which he had never heard before, and which interested him exceedingly. With the Arabs of Timbúktu, also, this subject formed a topic of the highest interest, as they had no idea that there were people of the same faith living on the eastern shores of this continent; and they delighted in the thought, that even in those regions there were Moslems, who were not quite destitute of political power. For, although the famous traveller Ebn Batúta has given to his countrymen an account of these regions, it was only in Sókoto that I met with a man, the learned Káderi dan Táffa, who knew Sofála by name.
My friend Bíllama also frequently called on me, and furnished me with a variety of information, while I applied myself strenuously to the study of the Kanúri language, which had discouraged me at first, owing to the difficulties of its grammatical structure: and I could scarcely have had a better teacher than our friend Háj Edrís; for, being of Kanúri origin, he had lived a great many years in the east, especially in Medína, and had become almost an Arab. He was certainly an intelligent and honest man; and in the course of our stay we became indebted to him in many respects. Of course we could not expect him to render his service gratuitously, as he himself was not in affluent circumstances, though as a courtier he had to keep up a good appearance; but being myself very poor at the time, I could do nothing but place him upon a needle-pension, the needles being very useful in the encampment for buying provisions.
XLIII. THE BORDER-REGION OF THE SHÚWA
Saturday, Dec. 6.—At length, after a protracted stay, we left our encampment at Díkowa, though still in complete uncertainty whether the expedition was directed against Mándará or not; for as yet the chief of that little country (which, through the adventures of Major Denham, has obtained in Europe a greater share of attention than it really deserves), relying upon the natural strength of his mountains, had not yet made his submission. The rumours which we heard from thence were of the most contradictory nature; and it seemed as if Abú Bakr, which is the name of the present chief, had made up his mind to a determined resistance, having retired into his mountain fastnesses, to the great disappointment of the vizier, who repeatedly asked me and my companion, with great anxiety, what was to be done, and how it was possible for the cavalry to attack the enemy in his mountainous retreat: for, whatever military strength the Kanúri may still possess, it is almost solely to be looked for in their cavalry. The former excellence of the Kánembú spearmen, resulting from their enthusiastic devotion to their leader, has disappeared long ago, at least since the overthrow of the old dynasty; and the vizier had to expect very little sympathy from this body, as most of them were decidedly favourable to the interest of his adversary, ʿAbd eʾ Rahmán. As far as I had been able to learn the nature of those rocky mountains on my journey to Yóla, I could not but think that not only the cavalry of Bórnu, but even the Kánembú spearmen, accustomed as they were to the level plains of their country, would be incapable of climbing those rocky cliffs.
The whole country was enveloped in a thick fog when we started in the morning; so that the passage of the komádugu, with its steep banks, caused a considerable crowding and pushing, which was far from agreeable. When we had got safely over, we had to pass a thick forest, consisting of “bíto” and “kindín,” or talha-trees; and on our left appeared the large walled place of Áfagé, a considerable town, but not so large as Díkowa. After only a short interval, we saw another town on our right, called Kodége, the walls of which were in an advanced state of decay, but were at present adorned with living battlements of male and female spectators.
Proceeding a short distance onward, we encamped at an early hour to the westward of another walled town, called Zógoma. The whole of this district, favoured as it is by nature, seems to have been once in a very flourishing condition. It was, however, rather odd that we should have encamped here, as the horses had to be led back to Áfagé for water.
I had scarcely pitched my tent, when that cruel minister of police, Lamíno, a man whose character my friend Háj Edrís used significantly to describe in the few words, “Kárgo díbbi, kíndi díbbi” (“Bad in heart, and bad in deed”), brought into my presence a famous cut-throat of the name of Barka-ngólo, whose neck was secured in a large machine called “bégo,” consisting of two pieces of wood from four to five feet in length, and very heavy, so that every movement was accompanied with the greatest pain. Nevertheless my mischievous friend persuaded himself that it would gratify me to see this miserable wretch fight with another culprit secured in the same manner, by giving to each of them a long whip of hippopotamus-hide, and forcing them by threats to flog each other. It was a horrible sight; and I had great difficulty in convincing my cruel friend that such a scene was far from being agreeable to me. In order to get rid of him, I presented him with a quantity of cloves to give to his beloved ʿAáisha, of whose culinary powers we had already had several proofs. He was greatly pleased with my present; and with an amorous smile he described to me how deeply he was in love with his darling, saying that he loved her, and she loved him also: “and,” added he, in a very sentimental way, “such a mutual love is the greatest bliss on earth.” Europeans must not fancy that there is no such feeling among these Africans as love, although it is not quite so ethereal as it sometimes seems to be with us. Notwithstanding these amorous declarations, which sounded very ridiculous coming from such a mass of flesh as he was, I was glad when he was gone.
We were now approaching hostile territory, and in the evening a “gangéma,” or proclamation accompanied by beat of drum, was made throughout the whole encampment, to the effect that the train of camels and pack-oxen, which previously had greatly hemmed in the cavalry, should not start until after the former had moved on. Zógoma is the farthest town of the Bórnu territory in this direction; and the following day we encamped in a district of the name of Mása, close to a swamp, thickly covered with water-plants, principally the Pistia stratiotes. Several Shúwa villages were lying about at short distances from each other.
On the road we passed some cotton-plantations and stubble-fields. The chief agricultural produce of Mása consisted of “sábade,” the sweet sorghum or Sorghum saccharatum. This sort of grain I had not yet seen in the course of my journey; but in Díkowa my friend Malá Ibrám had sent me a large quantity of it, in order that I might indulge in this African luxury. At that period I was surprised at the great length of these stalks, some of which measured fourteen feet; but how astonished was I afterwards, when, in the course of my travels in the luxuriant valleys of Kebbi, I found specimens of twice that length! This evening the vizier treated us with the marrow of the “sábade,” which, in snow-white pieces of about eight inches in length, were neatly placed upon a straw cover or “féfe,” such as are used in the country. While indulging in this simple African dainty, our conversation, very naturally, turned upon the cultivation as well as the preparation of sugar, which is one of those articles of European industry that most excites the admiration of the natives of this country. But when they learn in what a filthy manner it is refined, they become horrified, and hesitate whether they shall say farewell to this indulgence, or overcome the scruples and prejudices of their creed.
There is no doubt that the “sábade” would yield a rich produce of sugar; but it is not necessary to have recourse to this expedient, as the sugar-cane itself grows wild in several regions of Negroland, and we shall actually find a small plantation of it, and boiling-houses, on a small scale, carried on by a native in the neighbourhood of Sókoto. Our conversation at these African soirées with the vizier became sometimes so learned, that even Ptolemy with his “Mandros oros” was quoted. But, sad as it must seem to all who, like myself, delight in going back into remote antiquity, this famous mountain, which at the first sight seems to be an ancient memorial of the Mándará mountains of some seventeen hundred years standing, appears to belong entirely to Western Africa. Our kind host always found great delight in every kind of information; it was only a pity he was wanting in manly energy to carry out his good projects.
Monday, Dec. 8.—Woe to those regions through which an army takes its march in these parts of the world, were it even their own country. We passed this morning some very extensive cornfields, the crops of which were of the most luxuriant growth; but notwithstanding the piteous clamours, and even the threats of the slaves who were watching on the highly raised platforms in order to keep away the birds from the corn, the rich ears fell a prey to the hungry horsemen, for their own sustenance and that of their animals. These raised platforms are here called “górgo”; and the ropes which were fastened between them and the trees were provided with small hollow gourds, “káre,” filled with stones, which, when set in motion, were intended to frighten away the birds. After a tolerable march, we took up our encampment near the straggling hamlet Delhé, a locality touched at by Major Denham, on his unfortunate expedition to Mándará, but placed by him much too far southward.
All the cottages in these Shúwa villages have a conical roof rising to a great elevation, and tapering like a sugar-loaf,—the thatch being put on in a very irregular way, and fastened with ropes, though it is pleasantly and cheerfully adorned by the climbers of the “ságade” or “kubéwa,” a species of the Cucurbita melopepo (squash gourd), if not identical with it, the fruit of which, when boiled, has a very pleasant taste, and in some regions of Negroland, as far as Timbúktu, forms the principal vegetable for seasoning food.
The long duration of the rainy season here, as well as in Ádamáwa, renders sheds for the cattle necessary; and these consist of huts constructed similarly to the dwellings of man, but more spacious, with the exception that the walls consist merely of trunks of trees. The Shúwa of this village, as well as those of a neighbouring one, which after the name of a chief is called Háj Amaka, belong to the tribe of the Bulgówa, or ʿAwisíya. The place where we encamped was full of brushwood; and it took us a long time to pitch our tents. The variation of the temperature was so great, that I caught a severe cold; it was therefore agreeable to me that we remained here the following day: for while, during the greatest heat, at two o’clock P.M., the thermometer in the ventilated tent showed often from 93° to 96° Fahr., during the night it generally fell to between 50° and 53°. The vizier was kind enough, when I did not come to his soirée, to send one of his young slaves with a censer; but I was so unfortunate as to excite the anger of the little tyrannical messenger, who wanted me to imitate their own custom, which is, to place the censer under their wide shirt, and, by drawing the opening close over the head, to concentrate the fumes arising from the incense under their shirt, and receive it into the face, while I, thinking this rather too much, was satisfied with holding my face over it.
Wednesday, Dec. 10.—We made a short march in advance, and transferred our encampment to Díggera, through a country where wilderness and cultivated ground alternated. Here we remained the five following days; and I had sufficient leisure to regret that I was not better provided with books. Anxious to employ my time usefully, I began, with the assistance of two Mándará, or rather Wándalá slaves, to write down a vocabulary of the language of that country, which by the natives themselves is called “Ára-Wándalá,” as they call their country “Khakh-Wándalá,” or “Khákh-Úndalá.”
The cold which we experienced during our stay here we considered very severe—at least from an African point of view and feeling; for in Europe it would have been thought very moderate. Fortunately our encampment was more comfortable than it had been at Delhé, and presented features of considerable interest; for here we saw the first complete example of those shallow stagnant watercourses which are so highly characteristic of the equatorial regions of this continent, and explain at the same time the conflicting statements with regard to the direction of so many watercourses in these regions. However, there are two different kinds of these shallow waters: first, such as are in immediate connection with larger rivers, and often run parallel to them, and which most appropriately deserve to be called backwaters; and, secondly, those which are quite independent, and form a small water-system by themselves. To the latter kind seems to belong this swampy sheet of water, or “ngáljam,” of Díggera, although I heard some Shúwa affirm that it extended to the Tsád.
I first turned my steps eastward, where the encampment extended to the very foot of the beautiful trees, which, forming a rich border of the finest embroidery from the hand of nature, girt the water. Most of them were either fig (sycamore) or tamarind-trees. The aspect of the scenery was most interesting, and under almost every tamarind-tree a group of people was encamped. The cavity where this sheet of water had collected formed a very slight depression in the meadow-ground, it being almost flat; the water, to all appearance, had already decreased considerably, and only in a few places presented an open sheet, being in general closely overgrown with rank grass and tall reeds. I followed it to a considerable distance towards the north-north-west, till I was obliged by the thick covert to retrace my steps, and then turned westward. The far larger extension of the water during the rainy season was sufficiently indicated by the luxuriant growth of trees. I crossed it at a spot where it was not so extensive, and found the bottom of it extremely muddy, which made the passage rather difficult, though the water was only two and a half feet deep. The indented outlines of its shores greatly distinguished it from those more complete and regular-shaped ngáljams, which, in the course of time, I had an opportunity of visiting, not only in those extensive plains between the river Bénuwé and Shári, but also in the regions of the middle course of the so-called Niger; for, in the quarters just mentioned, these shallow waters, or meadow-waters, often stretch out, in a straight or regularly sweeping line, like artificial canals, to an immense distance,—especially that most interesting sheet of water three days west of Timbúktu, the “Áraf-n-áman,” or Rás el má.
Of quite a different nature is the character of the famous Bahar el Ghazál, which joins the Tsád on the north-eastern side, being a broad sandy valley girt by a rich border of vegetation. This peculiar valley, which it was not our destiny to become acquainted with by ocular inspection, formed the subject of conversation with the vizier on Sunday evening; and a disputation arose, of so scientific a character that it might have silenced all those who scoff at the uncivilized state of the population of these regions. To be sure, the two principal persons in this conversation were Arabs; but their forefathers had been settled in these regions for at least ten generations.
Here in Díggera, where we were only one good day’s march distant from the capital of Mándará, our friends were obliged to come to a decision upon the future destination of the expedition. After the news which had arrived some days previously, that the petty chief of Mándará, whose ancestor once completely defeated a countless host of the Bórnu people, had decided upon making resistance, they had been very silent and dejected, and were therefore extremely delighted when at length, to-day, a servant of the obstinate vassal made his appearance with a present of ten beautiful female slaves, and the offer of complete submission. So at least we were told; but the affair seemed very doubtful, and a native of Mándará, or, as they say, Ár-Wándalá, afterwards assured me that his master, the powerful “Tuksé” of Khákh-Úndala, had been so far from making his submission to the insolent “Móthaké” (by this name they call the Bórnu people), that, on the contrary, he had treated them with contempt. Which of the two assertions was correct I do not know; but it is probable that the chief of Mándará thought it prudent to consent to some sort of compromise—perhaps through the intermediation of ʿAbd eʾ Rahmán, the sheikh’s brother.
Whatever may have been the case, the vizier informed us in the evening, in a very cheerful manner, that the affair with Mándará had taken the most favourable turn, and that in consequence the sheikh, with a small part of the army, was to retrace his steps, while he himself, with the far larger portion, was to undertake an expedition into the Músgu country, and that we, of course, were to accompany him. Now we were well aware that the object of this expedition was partly to make slaves, and that, in our character as messengers of the British Government, we ought to endeavour to keep aloof from anything connected with the infamous subject of slavery; but as we could not hinder it if we kept back, and as by accompanying the expedition we might prevent a deal of mischief, and might likewise have a fair opportunity of convincing ourselves whether what was related of the cruelty of the Mohammedans in these expeditions was true or exaggerated, we decided upon accompanying the vizier. At the same time it was of the utmost importance to visit that very region which was the object of the expedition, as it was the only way to decide upon the relation between the central basin of the Tsád and the great western river, with its eastern branch, while there was no possibility of visiting it by ourselves. We had already convinced ourselves that the country of the Músgu is not, as Major Denham has represented it, a mountainous, inaccessible tract; but we were puzzled at the number of watercourses of which our informants had spoken, and we could not have the least idea how fertile a country it was, and how far remote its inhabitants were from that state of barbarism which had been imputed to them. We therefore, although reluctantly, and not without scruple, at length determined upon accompanying the expedition; and I hope that every considerate person who takes into account all the circumstances in which we were placed, will approve of our resolution.
Wednesday, Dec. 17.—At length we proceeded onwards, entering new regions never trodden by European foot. Our departure having been delayed in the morning, owing to the separating of the army, we started rather late, leaving the sheikh, with the rest of the “kebú,” behind. The country at once presented a new and interesting feature. Already in Bórnu a considerable proportion of our diet had consisted of native rice, and we had been rather astonished at its black colour and bad quality. We had heard that it grew wild in the southern provinces of the country; but we had never yet seen it, and it was only this morning, after we had left Díggera and had traversed extensive stubble-fields of millet intermixed with beans, that we obtained a first view of a “shinkáfaram,” or wild rice-field, in the midst of the forest. We were then no longer surprised at the quality of the rice brought to the market in Kúkawa being so bad, as we felt justified in presuming that the elephant would have sense enough to take the best for himself, and leave the rest for the people. As we proceeded we found the whole wilderness, although not thickly wooded, full of pools of water and dense rice-fields.
The country to-day presented a truly tropical aspect; and our encampment, lying near an extensive pond, or small lagoon, surrounded with a luxuriant growth of rice and a dense border of spreading trees, was so full of the footprints of the elephant, that scarcely a level spot of two or three feet in diameter could be found. This was by no means pleasant, in our present mode of living, as we were without a camp-stool, or anything to sit or lie upon; for the argillaceous soil is so excessively hard, that the borders of these holes produced by the unwieldy foot of the elephant cause a great deal of pain to a person lying on the ground with nothing but a mat or carpet. The most essential instrument on this whole journey was the “láteram,” the digging-instrument (from “langin,” “I dig”), consisting of a large piece of wood about three feet long, with a heavy iron point; for without the láteram it would have been impossible to fix the dáteram (from “dangin,” “I fasten, stop”), or the pole to which the horses are fastened during the night. In general, every horseman digs the hole in which the pole is fastened with his own spear; but this soil was so hard that it was scarcely possible to make the smallest hole in it. Of course, during the rainy season, it is just as soft and muddy as it is hard in the dry season, and scarcely passable in consequence.
A giraffe was caught to-day. I had been of opinion that this timorous animal was not found in the thickly inhabited regions near the equator; but I soon learned from experience that it is not at all rare in the wildernesses which alternate with the densely populated regions of these districts. The elephant, however, is the predominant animal of these quarters; and the large market-place, Fátawel, which I have mentioned on my journey to Ádamáwa, and the Logón town Jéna, or rather Jínna, seem to be of considerable importance for their ivory-trade.
In the evening I had the misfortune to be stung by a scorpion, which had got into my bernús. As I had not noticed the animal in the dark, and thinking that it was nothing but one of the formidable black ants, the bite of which is very painful, I neglected the wound at first, so that the poison penetrated to the shoulder, and rendered my right arm useless for two days.
Thursday, Dec. 18.—Seeing that we were now entirely in the hands of the vizier, my companion and I used to present ourselves at his tent every morning, and to ride for some time near him. I, however, soon found it pleasanter to keep more in the rear of the army, a little in advance of his female slaves; and in the narrow paths in the midst of the forest, where the crowding became very disagreeable, I used to keep behind his led-horses. Of female slaves on horseback and led-horses the vizier had with him the moderate number of eight of each kind, while the sheikh had twelve; but this appeared to me a small number when I afterwards saw the king of Bagírmi returning from the expedition with a string of forty-five mounted female partners. These black damsels were all clothed in white woollen bernúses, with their faces completely veiled, and were closely watched. To-day we had a more complete specimen of that peculiar kind of shallow water which I have mentioned above; and the army, while they were winding around it on the fresh green meadow-lands, closely hemmed in on their left by a grove of fine trees, presented a highly interesting scene. From thence, passing through a thick covert, we entered the beautiful open district of Wolóje, which comprises several hamlets. Here I was amused at seeing the head man of a village successfully putting to flight, with a large branch of a tree, a troop of pilfering horsemen. A little beyond these hamlets the encampment was chosen, at some little distance from a very extensive “ngáljam.”
Our conversation with the vizier in the evening again took a geographical turn, owing to the presence of his spy or scout, who had just returned from delivering his message to the Músgu prince Ádishén. The vizier was as yet undecided in which direction to turn his steps; and we heard a native chief, of the name of Puss, or Fuss, mentioned in a manner that assured us our friends were afraid to attack him. Ádishén, the chief just mentioned, was in a certain degree subject to the rulers of Bórnu; but it seemed rather an ironical assertion that this prince would be pleased with the arrival of the expedition. While describing his reception at the court of the chief, the scout indulged in a lively description of the customs prevalent among these people, whose chief had only outwardly adopted Islám. His Majesty, he said, used to indulge in amorous intercourse with his female slaves, of whom he had two hundred, before the eyes of his people; an account which was rather confirmed by Kashélla Belál, who had been his host several times. Belál, who was a very jovial old fellow, also stated that this little prince was not jealous of the favours bestowed by his female partners upon his guests; but, on the contrary, that he himself voluntarily gave them up to them. Such a degrading custom may indeed be followed by this petty chief, who has betrayed his country in order that, by the influence of his more powerful neighbours, he might rule over his countrymen; but we need not draw a conclusion from him as to the customs of the whole tribe, although, of course, they regard the relation of the sexes in a simpler point of view than we do.
Friday, Dec. 19.—The country through which we passed, on leaving our encampment in the morning, was most charming, and of a most expansive bound, and exactly suited for pastoral tribes like the Shúwa and Fúlbe; but traces of cultivation also, and even of cotton-fields, were not wanting: while further on, the dúm-bush appeared, and was after a while succeeded by the tall fan-shaped dúm-palm itself. The country being open, and without any obstruction whatever, the “kibú,” or army, marched in an extended line of battle, “báta,” separated into groups of the most varied description in attire and appearance: the heavy cavalry, clad in thick wadded clothing, others in their coats of mail, with their tin helmets glittering in the sun, and mounted on large heavy chargers, which appeared almost oppressed by the weight of their riders and their own warlike accoutrements; the light Shúwa horsemen, clad only in a loose shirt, and mounted upon their weak unseemly nags; the self-conceited slaves, decked out gaudily in red bernúses or silken dresses of various colours; the Kánembú spearmen, almost naked, with their large wooden shields, their half-torn aprons round their loins, their barbarous head-dresses, and their bundles of spears; then, in the distance behind, the continuous train of camels and pack-oxen: all the people full of spirits, and in the expectation of rich booty, pressing onward to the unknown regions towards the south-east.
It was an exalted feeling of unrestrained liberty which animated me while, mounted on my noble charger, I rode silently along at the side of this motley host, contemplating now the fine, beautiful country, now the rich scenes of human life, which were illumined by a bright morning sun. As yet no blood had been shed by this army, and neither misery, devastation, nor the horrors of people torn from their homes, cried out against it. Every one seemed to think only of sport and amusement. Now and then a stir would be raised in the whole army when a gazelle started forth from the thicket, endeavouring to escape from her pursuers, but soon found herself hemmed in on every side, while Shúwa horsemen and Kánembú spearmen, each endeavouring to possess himself of the prize, cried out to his rivals in the pursuit, “Kólle, kólle!” (“Leave off, leave off!”) as if the prey was already his own, while others animated their companions by shouting out, “Góne, góne!” (“Chase, chase!”) the sounds re-echoing from one troop to another; or when a fat Guinea-fowl, “káji,” or a partridge, “kwíye,” roused from its secure covert, took to its wings, but, trying to fly over those widely scattered troops of hostile men, and frightened by their cries, was soon obliged to look for a moment’s respite, and, after a vain struggle, fell a prey to its pursuers, who often, while they laid hold of it, tore it actually into pieces.
The wide open country seemed to invite the traveller into the far distance; but to-day our march was only of short duration, and before eight o’clock in the morning a new encampment, upon a fresh spot, was again springing up. This whole country is still included in the extensive district of Wolóje; but the water, which was close to the side of the encampment, has the peculiar name of Kodásalé. The whole of the inhabitants of the district belong to the Shúwa tribe of the Bénesé. To the east of Kodásalé lies the place Lawári, towards the west Súggemé, beyond Úlba, and south-west of the latter Memé, and north-west Momó. All these villages are inhabited by Shúwa and Kanúri in common; beyond is the wilderness or karága.
I, too, had my little daily “nógona,” or divan, in which Kashélla Bíllama, my friend from Ádamáwa, and Háj Edrís, formed my principal courtiers, or “kokanáwa,” though occasionally other people attended. All these people I kept attached to me by presents of a few needles, with which they supplied their wants in the neighbouring villages. Bíllama informed me to-day that for three needles he had bought sufficient provision for his horse for one day; for two he had bought a wooden bowl, or “búkuru”; and for six more a good supply of meat. Thus this insignificant production of European industry became of the highest value to me; and it obtained still more value and importance, in the course of my journey to Bagírmi, when it constituted my only wealth, and in consequence procured me the noble title of “needle-prince,” (“malaríbra”). We remained here the following day, as the army had to provide itself with corn, or rather Negro grain, as we were told that we should enter upon a wild uncultivated tract, the border-region between the seats of the Mohammedans and those of the pagan tribes, which, as is generally the case in these parts of the world, has been reduced to desolation.
Each of the surrounding villages had to send two ox-loads of grain, which, however, did not benefit the army in general, but fell entirely to the share of the friends and followers of Lamíno, the remainder of this immense host being thrown upon their own resources. All the grain was carried on asses. It was in this encampment that the vizier made a present to Mr. Overweg of a small lion. He had given him, on a former occasion, a “súmmoli.” This is a very ferocious cat, of rather rare occurrence, which is said not only to attack gazelles, but young cattle or calves. It was of a light brown colour, the hind part, however, being black, and had very pointed, upright ears, “súmmo,” a circumstance from which the name has been derived. The ears, moreover, are ornamented with a black stripe. A great many curious stories are related by the people with regard to the ferocity of this animal, and from what we ourselves had an opportunity of observing, it seems to be a marvellous little creature: for, though still very young and small, it was nevertheless extremely fierce, and was quite master of the young lion. Both animals were fed with boiled milk, of which they were very fond; but the continual swinging motion which they had to endure on the back of the camels in the heat of the day, caused their death very soon.
Sunday, Dec. 21.—The crowding and thronging was excessive when we started in order to pursue our march. The wilderness at first was tolerably clear, being at times evidently a place of resort for numerous herds of elephants, as the quantity of dung, and the uninterrupted tracks of deep footprints, which gave to the soil the appearance of a colossal chessboard, amply testified. After a march of about six miles the wilderness became more thickly overgrown, and presented a fine forest scenery; but, as is generally the case on such warlike expeditions, there is no leisure to pay attention to special phenomena, especially as the Bórnu horses are in general very wild and vicious, and in the throng everybody was continually liable to come into collision with his neighbour’s horse, which, perchance, might be a furious kicker.
The general character of this jungle was this. The ground was covered with dúm-bush, which formed a thick brushwood, and here and there with rank grass, while the forest in general consisted of middle-sized trees, chiefly mimosas and kálgos, though there were other specimens, especially the kókia-tree, which I had first seen on my journey from Gezáwa to Kátsena, the trees of smaller size being separated into groups by large spreading specimens of the vegetable kingdom, mostly of the ficus kind; for monkey-bread-trees seemed to be wanting entirely, and altogether I saw few specimens of this tree in the Músgu country. Very remarkable nests of birds, suspended from the branches, were observed, not unlike a purse, with a long narrow neck hanging down and forming the entrance; or rather like a chemist’s retort suspended from the head, the shank being several inches long, and the whole beautifully fabricated with the most surprising skill. Of the skilful manufacturers of these fine dwellings we did not obtain a sight; but probably it is a species of loxia. In this thick covert, several young elephants were hunted down, and even the giraffe seemed frequent.
The place which we chose for our encampment was adorned by numerous fan-palms, which, although in general identical with the species called Chamærops humilis, nevertheless by their height appeared to be a distinct variety, and gave to the encampment a very picturesque appearance. This forest was here so dense, that only the spot where the vizier himself encamped together with his own followers was free from brushwood, while all the other people were first obliged to clear the ground with much trouble. This was the first day, since our setting out, that we made a tolerable march. The whole manner in which the expedition was conducted was an unmistakable proof of an effeminate court, especially if we take into account the principle of carrying on war in these countries, where only sudden inroads can insure any great success. In the evening there arrived a small complimentary present from Ádishén, the tributary Músgu chief, consisting of five horses and twenty oxen. But while in this manner the more influential men in the army were well supplied with food, the greater part were very badly off, and most of them were reduced to the core of the dúm-bush or ngílle, which by the Bórnu people is facetiously called “kúmbu bíllabe” (“the food of the country town”). But a good sportsman might have obtained better food for himself, and we even got a small ostrich egg from the vizier.
It was a great pity that we had purposely avoided the more frequented and general road, which passes by several settlements of the Fúlbe or Felláta, in order not to give any trouble to the latter; for no doubt that tract would have been far more interesting, as well from a natural point of view, as with regard to the political state of the country, as it would have given us the clearest insight into the way in which that enterprising and restless people is pushing on every day more and more, and strangling, as it were, the little kingdom of Mándará.
Monday, Dec. 22.—Dense forest continued to prevail during the first five miles of our march. It then cleared, and was succeeded by considerable fields of wild rice, most of which was burnt down; for, as I have repeatedly had occasion to mention, all these wildernesses of Central Africa are set on fire after the rainy season. The whole ground in this district was one uninterrupted succession of holes made by the foot of the elephant, which obstructed the march of the army very considerably, and was the reason of several horses being lamed. Sálah, a younger brother of the vizier, a very intelligent man, broke his arm. A herd of six elephants was in the neighbourhood, and after a great deal of confusion, one animal, which got between the horsemen, was killed. It is no wonder that these regions are so frequented by them, as they find here plenty of the choicest food. The jungles of wild rice were only interrupted for a short time by a tract covered with dúm-bush. Water was plentiful, every now and then a considerable pond appearing, girt by beautiful trees, and at present enlivened by groups of horsemen, who were watering their animals.
After a march of about fifteen miles we encamped close to a larger sheet of water, which was full of fish of the species called “bégeli,” and enabled us to give to our food that day more variety, the forest, as well as the water, contributing its share; for, besides the fish, we had roast hare and elephant’s flesh, which was very palatable, and much like pork.
Tuesday, Dec. 23.—Three heavy strokes upon the drum, at the dawn of day, set our motley host once more in motion. It was an important day, and many of the principal people had exchanged their common dress for a more splendid attire. We entered the Músgu country, and at the same time came into contact with fragments of that nation, who, having spread from the far west over the one-half of Africa, are restlessly pushing forward and overwhelming the pagan tribes in the interior. These are the Fúlbe or Felláta, the most interesting of all African tribes, who, having been driven from Bórnu, have here laid the foundation of a new empire.
Twice on our march we were obliged to make a halt: the first time owing to the arrival of Ádishén, the Músgu chief, with a troop of naked horsemen mounted on a breed of small, unseemly, but strong ponies, without saddles and bridles, and presenting altogether a most barbarous and savage spectacle. The second halt was caused by the appearance of a Púllo or Felláta chief, with two hundred horsemen of his nation, who, by their shirts and shawls, their saddles and bridles, certainly claimed a higher degree of civilization, but who, nevertheless, were far from exhibiting a grand appearance. This chief was an officer of Khúrsu, the ruler of the town or principality of Fétte or Pétte, which we had left at a short distance to the west. He came to join this expedition, the object of which was to weaken the Músgu tribes, who, behind their natural defences of rivers and swamps, had hitherto been able to maintain their independence. Of course, on this occasion the policy of these Fúlbe chiefs went hand in hand with that of the Bórnu people, although it is not a little remarkable, and serves to show the slight political unity existing between the integral parts of these empires, that while the governor of Ádamáwa was at present on a hostile footing with the ruler of Bórnu, one of his vassals was allowed to enter into an alliance with the latter.
After these interruptions we pursued our march, and reached, about half an hour before noon, the northernmost of the Músgu villages, which is called Gábari, surrounded by rich fields of native grain; but everything presented a sad appearance of pillage and desolation. None of the inhabitants were to be seen; for, although subjects of Ádishén, who enjoyed the friendship and protection of the rulers of Bórnu, they had thought it more prudent to take care of their own safety by flight than to trust themselves to the discretion of the undisciplined army of their friends and protectors. The preceding evening the order had been issued through the encampment that all the property in the villages of Ádishén should be respected, and nothing touched, from a cow to a fowl, grain only excepted, which was declared to be at the disposal of everybody.
It was rather remarkable that the greatest part of the crops were still standing, although we had been lingering so long on our road, and had given sufficient time for the people to secure them for themselves. All the grain consisted of the red species of holcus, called by the Bórnu people “ngáberi kemé,” which grows here to the exclusion of the white species and that of millet. All the people of the army were busy in threshing the grain which they had just gathered at the expense of their friends, and loading their horses with it. Even the fine nutritive grass from the borders of the swamp, which, woven into long festoons, the natives had stored up in the trees as a provision against the dry season, was carried off, and, notwithstanding the express order to the contrary, many a goat, fowl, and even articles of furniture which had been left behind by the natives, fell a prey to the greedy host.
The spectacle of this pillage was the more saddening, as the village not only presented an appearance of comfort, but exhibited in a certain degree the industry of its inhabitants. In general each courtyard contained a group of from three to six huts, according to the number of wives of the owner. The walls of the dwellings, without a single exception, were built of clay, which in the courtyards of the richer people even formed the building material of the fences. The roofs of the cottages were thatched with great care, and at least as well as in any house or village in Bórnu, and far superior to the thatching of the Shúwa. The roofs even exhibited traces of various styles, and perhaps a certain gradation in the scale of society. Almost every courtyard enclosed a shed, besides the huts, and one granary built of clay, and from twelve to fifteen feet high, with an arched roof, likewise of clay, there being an opening at the top which was protected by a small cover of thatching, as the accompanying woodcut shows. The way in which the natives had stored up their supply of hay for the dry season was very remarkable, the rank grass being woven into festoons of about fifteen feet in length, and hung up in the kórna-trees which adorned the fields.
Having roved about at my leisure, I pursued my march, and, emerging from the cornfields, entered upon open meadow-grounds, partly under water, which spread out to a considerable extent, and which, with their fresh green turf, formed a beautiful contrast to the tall yellow crops which I had just left behind. Ascending a little, we kept straight towards a group of splendid trees which adorned the fields in front of another village. The village was called Kórom, and belonged to a chief under the authority of Ádishén, while Kadé, the residence of the latter, was only at a short distance. In these fields the vizier had dismounted and chosen the place for the encampment; and it was with a sad, sympathetic feeling that I witnessed the lopping of the rich branches of the fine trees, which were without doubt, the most splendid specimens of the karáge-tree which I had seen in Negroland, not excepting those in the Marghí country. The largest among them measured not less than eighty feet in height, and the diameter of their crown could scarcely be less; but the foliage of this tree is by no means so dense and so regularly shaped as that of the fig or tamarind-tree. None of these fine trees, which had adorned the landscape, escaped destruction, in order to provide fences for the larger tents; but the few monkey-bread-trees which here appeared, owing to the scanty foliage with which their gigantic branches were decked out, escaped unhurt. Here we remained the two following days, and the encampment became very confined, the more so as the ground was rather uneven. The delay could scarcely be defended in a strategical point of view, as it could not but serve to put all the neighbouring chiefs, who were hostile to Ádishén, on their guard against any sudden inroad. But it was well that they did so, as by a sudden inroad the poor persecuted natives might have been totally annihilated.
In order to employ my leisure hours, I looked about for information respecting the country we had just entered, and was fortunate enough to collect some valuable data.
The Músgu, or Músekú, are a division of the great nation of the Mása, which comprises the Kótoko, or Mákari, the people of Logón, or Lógone, the Mándará, or Úr Wándalá, with the Gámerghú, and the large tribe of the Bátta, and probably even that of the Mbána. Of these tribes the most intimately related to the Músgu are the people of Logón, who, as we shall soon have occasion to show, are nothing but a section which has quite recently separated from the parent stock, and constituted itself as a distinct community, owing to its higher state of civilization. Amongst the various divisions of the Kótoko, Ngála and Klésem seem to be most nearly related to the Músgu.
However insignificant the tribe of the Músgu may appear in the eyes of the European, the dialects of the various communities into which it is split, owing to the hostile manner in which they are opposed to one another, and their entire want of friendly intercourse, differ so much that, as I was assured the people of Lúggoy have great difficulty in understanding those of Wúliya and Démmo. Unfortunately I had no opportunity of collecting specimens of the other dialects besides that spoken by the people of Lúggoy. Their principal “sáfi,” or fetish, consists in a long spear-like pole, similar to that of the Marghí; but nevertheless there seems to be a considerable difference in their superstitious worship, for, while with the Marghí the pole appears to be rather a symbol than an image of the deity, and the real worship is attached to the sacred locality, with the Músgu tribes I did not see a single specimen of a sacred grove. The Músgu call their fetish “kefé.”
In the afternoon I attended some time at the vizier’s, and here made the acquaintance of an interesting and adventurous old man of the name of Mʿallem Jémme, or Jýmma, who took the principal part in the conversation. The history of this man is highly characteristic, as showing what a large field is open to the ambition of enterprising Mohammedans in the pagan states to the south. Threatened with capital punishment by the old sheikh, that is to say, Mohammed el Amín el Kánemi, on account of his disobedience, this Shúwa chieftain had fled to the pagans, and had there succeeded in establishing gradually, by his own energy and mental superiority, a small principality; but at present, for some reason or other, he had been expelled and had recourse to the vizier of Bórnu for assistance to recover his former power. His great knowledge of the country and the different tribes which inhabited it, made him a welcome guest; but as for himself, he did not succeed in his ambitious projects. In reference to my expedition to Ádamáwa, I have already made use of the authority of this man, in giving an account of the route which connects the southernmost point on our expedition to Músgu with the places fixed by me along the river Bénuwé.
The mʿallem was not very communicative; and unfortunately I had no handsome present to make him, or else I might have learned from him an immense deal with regard to the geography and character of these countries, which I have no doubt, not long hence, will become of considerable importance to Europeans. For while these regions, situated between the rivers Bénuwé and Shári, seem to be extremely rich and fertile, and capable—on account of the uniform level of their unbroken plains—of the highest state of cultivation, they are the most accessible on account of the extensive water-communication, which, rendered available by the application of a very small degree of art and industry, will open an easy access into the heart of Central Africa. Of course, after the rainy season, when all these countless watercourses, which intersect the country in every direction, and, without any apparent inclination, inundate the country, the climate in the plains cannot be very healthy; but isolated mountains and hills are scattered by the hand of nature through these luxuriant plains, capable of affording more healthy localities for settlements.
Owing to the presence of the adventurer just mentioned, the conversation that evening was very animated, till at length the courtiers, or “kokanáwa,” withdrew behind the curtains of the vizier’s tent, in order to take a little refreshment. I then took my leave; but I had only gone a short distance when I was called back, being informed that it would no doubt be interesting to me to witness an audience of Ádishén, the Músgu chief, who was just about to pay his respects to the commander-in-chief. I therefore returned to the vizier’s tent, where the courtiers had again taken their post, according to their rank and station, on each side of their leader.
After a short time the Músgu chief arrived, accompanied by his three brothers, mounted, as is their custom, upon horses without saddle or bridle. Great numbers of people had collected in front of the tent, and saluted him with scoffs and importunities; but the pagan chief did not allow himself to be put out of countenance by the insolence of the slaves, but preserved his princely dignity. At length the curtains of the spacious tent were drawn back, and in came the native prince. He was of a short stout figure, and rather mild, but not very prepossessing features, and apparently between fifty and sixty years of age. He wore a black tobe, but no trousers, and was bare-headed. Kneeling on the ground, and clapping his hands, while he repeated the complimentary words, “Alla ngúbberu degá!” (“God give you long life”), according to the custom of the “katí gótsin,” he took up sand and sprinkled it upon his head; but as soon as he had gone through this form of abject submission, he assumed his character as a native chief. Thus, at once he complained of his western neighbours, the Fúlbe or Felláta, or, as the Músgu people call them, Chógchogo; for they, he said, had anticipated the vizier of Bórnu, carrying off cattle and other things from his territory. The Bórnu chief assured him that for the future he should not be exposed to such injustice, but that he was entirely under the protection of Bórnu. He then made a sign, and some parcels were opened, and Ádishén was officially installed as a vassal and officer of Bórnu. First, he was dressed in an elephant-shirt—the large black shirt from Núfe,—over which a rich silk tobe was thrown, and over all an Egyptian shawl, while the self-conceited courtiers, in their proud consciousness of a higher state of civilization, treated him with contempt and scorn. My cheerful old friend Kashélla Belál, who had decked him out in this finery, paid him the usual compliments, exclaiming “Ngúbberu degá maína, ngúbberu degá maína,” maína being the title of the governor of a province.
Thus this petty pagan chief had become, in an official style, a kind of officer of Bórnu, and in this manner was alone capable of preserving his unenviable existence, at what sacrifices we shall soon see. The Músgu nation is situated so unfavourably, surrounded by enemies on all sides, that, even if they were linked together by the strictest unity, they would scarcely be able to preserve their independence. How, then, should they be able to withstand their enemies, separated as they are into numerous petty dominions, and having no further object than to enslave and pillage their neighbours and kinsmen? Nothing but the number of swampy watercourses which intersect the country in all directions, and during the greater part of the year render it impassable for hostile armies, while even during the remaining part the principal rivers afford natural lines of defence, behind which the inhabitants may seek refuge, can explain how the country is so well peopled as it is, although the intervening tracts have been already laid waste.
Towards the north there are the Kanúri, powerful by their numerous cavalry and the advantage of firearms; towards the west and south-west the restless Fúlbe continually advancing; towards the north-east the people of Logón, originally their near kinsmen, but at present opposed to them by difference of religion; towards the east, the wild Bágrimma people, proud of their supposed pre-eminence in religion, and eager for the profits of the slave-trade. All these people hunting them down from every quarter, and carrying away yearly hundreds, nay even thousands of slaves, must in the course of time exterminate this unfortunate tribe.
To-day was Christmas-day; and my companion and I, in conformity with a custom of our native town, tried in vain to procure some fish for a more luxurious entertainment in the evening. The meat of giraffes, which formed the greatest of our African luxuries, was not to be obtained; and as for elephant’s flesh, which we were able to get, although we both liked it, we had too sadly experienced its bad effect upon the weak state of our bowels to try it again. Hence, in order to celebrate the evening, we were reduced to coffee and milk, with which we regaled ourselves. We remained here the following day, under the pretext that the Fúlbe, who had joined us, had not yet had an audience; but although the effeminate courtiers were averse to any great exertion, the bulk of the army, who had neither pay, nor were allowed to plunder in order to obtain their necessary supplies, were not very well pleased with this delay, and caused a great uproar while marching in battle-order before the tents of their chiefs, and giving vent to their feelings by shaking and beating their shields. On former expeditions the light troops of the Shúwa and Kánembú had always been allowed to march some distance in advance of the army in order to supply their wants; but on this occasion a strict order had been issued that no one should go in advance.
In the afternoon Mr. Overweg went to pay a visit to Ádishén at his residence in Kadé, which was about half-an-hour’s march distant towards the south. He returned in the evening with a present of a goat, but did not seem to be greatly pleased with his excursion; and it could scarcely be otherwise, for while these pagans, who were obliged to disown all national feeling, could scarcely show themselves in their true character, and unreserved in their national manners, in the presence of such an army, it could not but lower us in the eyes of our companions to have too many dealings with these pagans, as they were apt to confound us with them. To be regarded as a “kerdi” my companion cared little about: but I was not much inclined to be identified as such, and it could certainly reflect no honour on the character of our mission.