Chapter LXX (part 1 of 2)

Chapter LXX (part 1 of 2)

BEGINNING OF THE NEW YEAR. — ANOMALOUS RISING OF THE NIGER. — COMMERCIAL RELATIONS OF TIMBÚKTU.

I had long cherished the hope that the beginning of 1854 would have found me far advanced on my homeward journey; but greatly disappointed in this expectation, I began the year with a fervent prayer for a safe return home in the course of it.

El Médani, my friend from Swéra, or Mogadore, whom I used to call my political thermometer, or rather my politico-meter, on account of his exhibiting towards me friendly feelings only at times when he saw everything quiet, sent me his compliments in the morning of the first of January; nay, even the two leaders of the hostile factions,—Hammádi, the rival of my protector, and Táleb Mohammed, the wealthiest merchant in the town, and the leader of the intriguing merchants from Morocco,—gave me to understand that they wanted to enter into friendly relations with me. My health as yet was very precarious; but I felt so much recovered in mind and body that, preparatory to my longed for departure, I began arranging the remainder of my baggage, which, with the exception of my small library, had been very much reduced. To my great astonishment and delight, while searching through my lumber, I found another thermometer in good repair. From the remainder of my broken instruments I picked up a good deal of quicksilver, which I gave to the Sheikh, who himself, as well as his other unsophisticated friends, derived a great deal of amusement from observing the qualities of this metal. Meanwhile, my protector endeavoured to make me fully acquainted with the political relation in which he stood to his brothers, Sídi Mohammed and Zén el ʿAbidín, whom he expected soon to arrive, and of whose different views in politics he gave me some slight hints; and I lamented greatly that the power of this noble family, instead of being strengthened by the number of its conspicuous scions, was only rent and split by the divergency of their views.

The course of my material existence went on very uniformly, with only slight variations. My daily food, when I was in the town, consisted of some milk and bread in the morning, a little kuskus, which the Sheikh used to send, about two in the afternoon, and a dish of negro millet, containing a little meat, or seasoned with the sauce of the kobéwa, or Cucurbita Melopepo, after sunset. The meat of Timbúktu, at least during the cold season, agreed with me infinitely better than that of any other part of Negroland; but this was not the case with the Melopepo, although it is an excellent and palatable vegetable. In the beginning of my stay I had consumed a great many young pigeons, which form a favourite dainty in this city. They are sold at the almost incredibly cheap rate of ten shells each, or at the rate of three hundred for a dollar; but the poor little things were used for culinary purposes so soon after breaking the shell as to be almost tasteless. A very rare dainty was formed by an ostrich egg, which was one day brought to me. This article is more easily to be obtained in the desert than in the towns, and such strong food, moreover, is not well adapted to the stomach of a resident. The Sheikh used also to send me a dish late at night, sometimes long after midnight; but, on account of the late hour, I never touched it, and left it to my servants.

It had been arranged that we should make another excursion to Kábara, but our visit was put off from day to day, although I was extremely anxious to witness the features of the country, in the present high level of the river, at the place where I had first landed on my arrival. Thus I was reduced, for entertainment, to my intercourse with the Sheikh, his kinsfolk, and followers; and as religious topics were always brought forward more prominently by my enemies, but especially in the learned letters which the emír of Hamda-Alláhi sent in reply to the Sheikh[1], my conversation with the former now began to turn more and more upon religious subjects, such as the return of the Messiah, and on the meaning of the name “Paraclete” given in the New Testament to the Holy Spirit, who was to descend upon the apostles, but which by the Mohammedans in more recent times is applied to Mohammed, whose coming, they say, is predicted in this instance by the Holy Book of the Christians.

One day when I visited the Sheikh, the two brothers were engaged in an animated discussion respecting the relation of ʿAísa (Jesus Christ) to Mohammed, and a warm dispute arose on the sophistical question, whether it would be allowed, after the return of ʿAísa upon earth, to eat camel’s flesh. The Sheikh himself was anxious to prove how difficult it would be for themselves to change any part of their creed after the return of ʿAísa, owing to the difference which existed between the precepts of the two prophets, and thus intended to excuse the Christians for not embracing the creed of Mohammed, after having once adopted that of ʿAísa. The two learned men, in the heat of their dispute, had overlooked the fact that the camel was a prohibited animal to the Jews, but not to the Christians, and hence that the return of ʿAísa would not interfere with their favourite repast. It was by cheerfully entering into these discussions that I obtained for myself the esteem even of those who were most anxious to extort from me as much as possible of my remaining property.

The arrival of another small caravan of the Tawáti was very near causing me a serious embarrassment. Some of the merchants from Morocco, excited by commercial jealousy, had spread the report that the calico brought by that caravan was Christian property, belonging to the English agent in Ghadámes: and I had some difficulty in making the people understand, that, even if that article had originally belonged to the agent, it was now the property of the Tawáti merchants. The presence of those people, also, caused the road to the north, by way of Tawát, to be again brought under discussion, as the route most suitable for my home-journey. My departure was now discussed almost daily; the arrival of our lively and talkative, but indiscreet messenger, Áhmed el Wádáwi, who had at length returned from his errand to the Awelímmeden, holding out the hope that my departure was in reality not far distant; but the fact that none of the Tawárek had come with him, notwithstanding his assertion that they were soon to follow, convinced me that my prospect of departure was put off for an indefinite period.

Towards the end of January the waters of the river reached their highest level, exhibiting that marvellous anomaly, in comparison with the period of the rising of other African rivers north of the equator, which is calculated to awaken astonishment in any man acquainted with the subject. For when he knows that the rising of these rivers is due to the fall of the tropical rains, he will naturally expect that the Niger, like its eastern branch, the Tsádda or Bénuwé, or the Nile, should reach its highest level in August or September. The fact can only be partly explained with the means at our disposal, and in the present state of our knowledge of this part of Africa, although it is illustrated by similar cases, if we compare it with the anomalous rising of some South- African rivers; especially the grand discovery of Dr. Livingstone, the Liambézi, which, forming in its upper course an immense shallow sheet of water, collects here the greatest amount of water at a time (July and August) when its lower course, the Zambézi, separated from it and withdrawn from the immediate effects of the waters collected above by the marvellous narrowing of the river-bed from the Falls of Victoria[2] downwards, is in its lowest state, and, through the influence of the water by which it is joined in its lower course, reaches here its highest level at quite a different season, February and March. We have before us exactly the same phenomenon in the case of the Niger, the great West-African river, which, according to the most accurate information which I was able to gather on the spot, every year continues to rise till the end of December or the beginning of January, and does not begin to decrease before February; while its eastern branch, the Bénuwé, as well as the lower course of the Niger, where it is called Kwára, exactly as is the case with the Nile, reaches its highest level by the end of August and begins to decrease steadily in the course of October.

To explain the difference and anomaly of these phenomena we must attend to the different character of these rivers. For while the Bénuwé after having once assumed a westerly direction follows it up with but very little deviation, the great western branch describes three quarters of an immense circle, and having but very little fall in the greater part of its extraordinary winding course, the waters which flow towards it from the more distant quarters require a long time to reach its middle course, so that the rain which falls in the course of September and October in the country of the Wangaráwa, or the South-eastern Mandigoes, will certainly continue to swell the river at Timbúktu till the end of November or even December; for that rain falls in those quarters behind the coast of Sierra Leone and Cape Palmas till the end of September, and perhaps even in October, we may conclude with some degree of certainty from the fact that such is the case on the coast[3]; and this is confirmed as regards Kakóndi and Tímbo by Caillié’s observations.[4] In the mountainous southern provinces of Abessinia, too, whose latitude corresponds exactly with that of the regions from whence the feeders of the Niger take their rise, the most constant fall of rain has been observed in September. Now while the whole region between Jenne and Timbúktu is of a very flat and level character, so that the river, running along at a very slow rate and with a very meandering course, not only fills a very broad stream spreading out over the neighbouring low lands, but forms also a great many backwaters and basins or lakes of which the Débo is only one although perhaps the largest in size, the river lower down beyond Bamba, and especially in the district called Tin-sherífen which we shall visit on our return journey, is shut in and reduced to the width of a few hundred yards, so that the water, having expanded over such an immense tract and not exercising therefore the same pressure which such a volume of water would do under other circumstances if it were kept together in a narrower channel, preserves its level or even still increases in extent and depth, while the surplus produced by the fall of rain in the country higher up has already diminished.

This is my mode of accounting for a phenomenon which seems to contradict in so great a measure the whole of the phenomena which have come under our observation with regard to the effects of rain and the rising of the rivers north and south of the equator, and imparts to the upper course of the Niger the same character as the Gabún and other rivers of the equatorial line which reach their highest level in the course of February.

Of course this state of the upper river, although it does not reach always the same level, cannot fail to exercise an influence also upon the lower part, where it is called Kwára, and where it has been visited repeatedly by Englishmen. But although, on account of their being unaware of this character of the river, they have not paid much attention to its features at the beginning of the hot season, and have even rarely visited it at that period, nevertheless Mr. Laird, who spent several months in the Kwára, has not failed to observe a phenomenon which exactly corresponds to the state of the river which I have just described. For he records[5] the surprising fact, which formerly must have been quite unintelligible, but which now receives its full illustration, namely, that the river at Iddá began to rise on the 22nd of March. This, in my opinion, he erroneously attributes to the rains up the country, as there are no rains whatever during the whole of March, and only a few drops in April; but it is evidently the effect of the waters in the upper and wide part of the river at length beginning to decrease about the middle of February, if we take the current at from 2½ to 3 miles, as the windings of the river extend to not much less than 2000 miles between Kábara and Iddá. The elevation of Timbúktu above the level of the sea I assume to be about 900 feet.

It was on the 4th of January that the first boat from Kábara approached close to the walls of the town of Timbúktu; and, as the immediate result of such a greater facility of intercourse, the supply of corn became more plentiful, and, in consequence, much cheaper: the sʿaa of millet being sold for 40 shells, and the suníye, that is to say, more than two hundred pounds’ weight, for 3000, or one Spanish dollar, certainly a very low rate; while I myself, as a foreigner and a stranger, had to pay 3750. The high state of the waters was naturally of the greatest interest to me; and, in order to satisfy my curiosity, the Sheikh took me out on the 9th. Emerging from the town at about the middle of the western wall, where formerly the báb el gibleh[6] was situated, we went first to the nearest creek of the river, but found here no boats; and then crossing an extremely barren and stony level reached another branch of the creek, where eight or ten smaller boats, without a covering or cabin, were lying; the innermost corner of this creek not being more than four or five hundred yards distant from the Great Mosque, or Jíngeré-bér. All the people asserted that the river, at Kábara, had now reached its highest level, and even affirmed that it had begun to fall here on the 7th; but, nevertheless, it became evident that the waters were still rising during the whole of the month,—almost endangering the safety of the town. On this occasion I learned that a great inundation in 1640 had flooded a considerable part of the town, and converted into a lake the central and lowest quarter, which is called Bagíndi, a name derived, as is asserted, from the tank thus formed having been enlivened by hippopotami.[7]

Interesting as was that day’s excursion it cost me dear; for being obliged, not only to be armed myself, but also to have an armed servant with me, I greatly excited the hostile feelings of the merchants from Morocco, and especially of that proud nobleman, ʿAbd e’ Salám, who went about among the great men of the town, saying, that in Morocco we, the Europeans, or rather the English, were not allowed to wear arms. But to show the absurdity of this assertion, I stated that while travelling in Morocco we received armed horsemen for an escort, while here, where there was no settled form of government, we had to protect ourselves. He then spread the rumour that an armed English vessel had ascended the river as far as Gógó; and this curious report was backed with such strong assertions that my own servant, ʿAlí el Ágeren, felt convinced of its truth, and thought it strange when I attempted to prove its absurdity.

But notwithstanding this hostile feeling, ʿAbd e’ Salám deemed it prudent to send, next day, his friend, Múláy el Méhedí, in order to excuse himself for the expressions which he had used a few days before with regard to me. It was this man, Múláy el Méhedí, with whom I should have liked to be able to converse on friendly terms, as he was a person of intelligence, and even possessed some little knowledge of astronomy. Indeed, I was not a little astonished when, conversing with him one day about the situation of Timbúktu, he came out with the statement that the town was situated about 18° N. lat., without my having thrown out the slightest hint in this respect.

All this time the whole of the surrounding country was in a most disturbed state, owing to several expeditions, or forays, which were going on, especially by the restless tribe of the Welád ʿAlúsh. They had lately taken 600 camels from the Welád Mebárek, and had now turned their predatory incursions into another direction.

On the 12th of January we again went to the tents, which had now been pitched in another spot, called Ingómaren, at a distance of about six miles a little S. from E.; but this time our stay in the encampment was very unlucky for me in several respects. On the 13th I felt tolerably well, and had a cheerful conversation with my protector about my approaching departure, when he sent me several presents, such as a large cover for the top of the tent[8], called “sarámmu” by the Songhay, “e’ béni erréga” by the Moors hereabout, and several leather pillows; but on the 14th, a little after noon, I was seized with such a sudden and severe attack of fever as I had never experienced before, accompanied by violent shivering fits, which made my kind host fear that I had been poisoned. I had drunk, a short time before, some sour milk brought me by a Berbúshi, that is to say, a man who, although intimately attached to the family of the Sheikh, originally belonged to the tribe of the Berabísh, whose chief murdered Major Laing. Although I myself had no suspicion that the milk which I had drunk had in any way contributed to my sudden attack of illness, yet as that man had some private animosity against me, and did not seem content with a present which I had made him in return for his small gift, I became so irritated, that I ordered him away in a very unceremonious manner, which caused a most unpleasant scene; for, at this conjuncture, all the people, including my own servants and even my very best friends amongst the Sheikh’s people, without paying any regard to my feeble state, gave vent to their feelings against me as a Christian.

But the Sheikh himself did not for a moment change his kind disposition, sending me tea repeatedly, and calling frequently to see how I was getting on. Fortunately, a tranquil night’s repose restored me again to health, and the following morning my friends came to me, one after the other, in order to beg my pardon for their neglect. While we were conversing on the preparations for my journey, a messenger brought the news of the arrival of a very intimate friend of the Sheikh,—Mohammed ben ʿAbd-Alláhi el Fútáwi,—who had come, with a numerous suite, in order to stay some time with the Sheikh, and, if possible, to be cured by me of some serious disease: and the prospect of soon leaving this quarter was greatly darkened by this circumstance.

[Sidenote: January 15th.]

This was one of those rainy days which are said not to be unusual towards the end of January and the beginning of February in this quarter along the river, though, in the other parts of Negroland that I had visited, I had never beheld anything of the kind. But the quantity of rain that fell even here was very little, for the sky, which had been cloudy in the morning, cleared up about noon; and although in the afternoon it became again overcast, with thunder in the distance followed by lightning towards evening, yet there fell only a few drops of rain in the course of the night.

On the 16th, having made a good breakfast on a goat roasted whole before the fire, we returned again into the town, where I was desired to cure a man of a disease over which I had no power. The character and position of the person would have rendered it a circumstance of the highest importance to me if I had been able to do so. The chronic disease under which Mohammed ben ʿAbd-Alláhi, for this is the person of whom I speak, was labouring, cast a melancholy gloom over him. I admired his manners, and the fine expression of his features; but I was disappointed to find that, although well versed in his religious books, he did not possess any historical knowledge as to the former state of these countries, which formed an object of the highest interest to me. The arrival of this person made my protector forget all the thoughts of my immediate departure.

Besides this circumstance, nothing of interest happened for some days, all the people exhorting me to patience; and, my departure being again put off, fresh attempts were made to convert me, even by my friends, who from sheer friendship could not bear to see me adhere to a creed which they thought erroneous. But I withstood all their attacks, and at times even ventured to ridicule freely some of their superstitious notions. I was far from laughing at the chief principles of their doctrine; but, as they always recurred in their arguments to their belief in sorcery and demons, I declared one day that, as for us, we had made all the demons our “khóddemán.” This is an expression with which these people are wont to denote the degraded and servile tribes; and I represented the Europeans as having obtained a victory over the spirits, by ascending in balloons into the higher regions, and from thence firing at them with rifles. The idea that the Christians must have subjected to their will the demoniacal powers, occurs very easily to the mind of the Mohammedan, who does not understand how the former are able to manufacture all the nice things which issue from their hands.

Meanwhile I was glad to break off my relations with my former friend the Waláti, who had recently returned from a journey to Áribínda, and who came to ask me officially whether he was to accompany me on my home journey or not; but although I told him plainly, that after all that had happened he could no longer be my companion, I treated him with more generosity than he deserved.

At the same time, I thought it also prudent to cultivate the good will of my servant ʿAlí el Ágeren, although he had almost entirely separated himself from me, and left me to my fate, since he had become fully aware of the dangerous nature of my position. I demanded from him no sort of service, though his salary of nine dollars a month went on all the time. However, being rather short of cash, and not being able to procure a loan from the people to whom I had been recommended, I was glad to obtain from a friendly Ghadámsi merchant, of the name of Mohammed ben ʿAlí ben Táleb, about 50,000 shells, equal to 13⅓ mithkál, reckoned at 3800 shells each, and I afterwards was obliged to add another small sum, making the whole 25 mithkáls.

In this place I think it well to give a short sketch of the commercial relations of Timbúktu, though it cannot make the slightest pretension to completeness, as I did not enter into such free intercourse with the natives as would have enabled me to combine a sufficient number of facts into a graphic view of the commercial life of the city. The people with whom I had most intercourse could offer little or no information on the subject. My situation in Kanó had been very different.

The great feature which distinguishes the market of Timbúktu from that of Kanó is the fact, that Timbúktu is not at all a manufacturing town, while the emporium of Háusa fully deserves to be classed as such. Almost the whole life of the city is based upon foreign commerce, which, owing to the great northerly bend of the Niger, finds here the most favoured spot for intercourse, while at the same time that splendid river enables the inhabitants to supply all their wants from without; for native corn is not raised here in sufficient quantities to feed even a very small proportion of the population, and almost all the victuals are imported by water-carriage from Sansándi and the neighbourhood.

The only manufactures carried on in the city, as far as fell under my observation, are confined to the art of the blacksmith, and to a little leatherwork. Some of these articles, such as provision or luggage bags, cushions, small leather pouches for tobacco, and gun-cloths, especially the leather bags, are very neat, as shown in the accompanying wood-cuts; but even these are mostly manufactured by Tawárek, and especially females, so that the industry of the city is hardly of any account. It was formerly supposed that Timbúktu was distinguished on account of its weaving[9], and that the export of dyed shirts from hence was considerable; but I have already had an opportunity of showing that this was entirely a mistake, almost the whole clothing of the natives themselves, especially that of the wealthier classes, being imported either from Kanó[10] or from Sansándi, besides the calico imported from England. The export of the produce of Kanó, especially by way of Árawán, extends to the very border of the Atlantic, where it comes into contact with the considerable import of Malabar cloth by way of St. Louis, or Ndér, on the Senegal, while the dyed shirts from Sansándi, which, as far as I had an opportunity of observing, seem to be made of foreign or English calico, and not of native cotton, do not appear to be exported to a greater distance. These shirts are generally distinguished by their rich ornament of coloured silk, and look very pretty; and I am sorry that I was obliged to give away, as, a present a specimen which I intended to bring home with me. The people of Timbúktu are very experienced in the art of adorning their clothing with a fine stitching of silk, but this is done on a very small scale, and even these shirts are only used at home. There is, however, a very considerable degree of industry exercised by the natives of some of the neighbouring districts, especially Fermágha, who produce very excellent woollen blankets, and carpets of various colours, which form a most extensive article of consumption with the natives.

The foreign commerce has especially three great high-roads: that along the river from the south-west (for lower down the river there is at present scarcely any commerce at all), which comprises the trade proceeding from various points; and two roads from the north, that from Morocco on the one hand, and that from Ghadámes on the other. In all this commerce, gold forms the chief staple, although the whole amount of the precious metal exported from this city appears to be exceedingly small, if compared with a European standard. It probably does not exceed an average of 20,000_l._ sterling per year.[11] The gold is brought either from Bambúk or from Búre, but from the former place in a larger quantity. The gold from the country of the Wángaráwa does not reach this market, but, as it seems, at present is directly exported to that part of the southern coast which on this account is called the Gold Coast. The species of gold from Bambúk is of a more yellow colour; that from Búre is rather whitish; and that from Wángara has a greenish hue. Most of this gold, I think, is brought into the town in rings. I do not remember to have seen or heard of gold dust, or “tibber,” being brought to market in small leathern bags, such as Shabíni and other people describe, containing about one ounce, equal to twenty-five dollars in value. But, nevertheless, a considerable amount of this article must come into market, as most of the gold dust which comes to Ghadámes and Tripoli passes through Timbúktu, while another portion goes directly from Sansándi to Árawán.[12]

It was evidently in consequence of the influence of the Arabs, that the scale of the mithkál[13] was introduced in the trade in gold; but it is a very general term, which may signify very different quantities, and thus we find various kinds of mithkáls used in Negroland, especially those of Ágades, Timbúktu, and Mango, the Mandingo place between Yendí and the Niger, the former of which is the smallest, and equal, as I have stated in the proper place, to 1000 shells of Háusa standard, although in the present decayed state of the town of Ágades, where all the gold trade has ceased, it possesses rather an imaginary value. The mithkál of Timbúktu contains the weight of 24 grains of the kharúb tree, or 96 of wheat, and is worth from 3000 to 4000 shells.[14] The mithkál of Mango is equal to 1¼ of that of Timbúktu. Besides rings, very handsome ornaments are worked of gold; but, as far as I could learn, most of this workmanship comes from Waláta, which is still celebrated on this account.[15]

The next article that forms one of the chief staples in Timbúktu, and in some respects even more so than gold, is salt, which, together with gold, formed articles of exchange all along the Niger from the most ancient times.[16] It is brought from Taödénni, a place whose situation has been tolerably well established by M. Caillié’s journey[17], and the mines of which have been worked, as we know from Áhmed Bábá, since the year 1596, when the former mines of Tegháza, situated some seventy miles further to the north, were given up. These salt mines of Tegháza appear to have been worked from very remote times, or at least before the eleventh century; and there can be little doubt that the mines of Tátentál, described by the excellent geographer El Bekrí as situated twenty days’ journey from Sijilmésa, and two from the beginning of the desert, are identical with Tegháza. Even at that time both Sigilmésa and Ghánata were provided from here, while at least the eastern and original portion of Songhay was supplied at that early period from the mines of Taútek, six days from Tademékka.[18]

In Taödénni the salt, which covers a very extensive tract of ground in the district “El-Jóf,” is formed in five layers, or “úje,” the uppermost of which is called el-wára; the second, el-bentí; the third, el- hammamíye; the fourth, el-káhela, or the black one; and the lowest, which is embedded in the water, el-kámera, or el-bédha. The upper of these layers are of little value, and the most in request is the fourth layer, or el-káhela, the colour of which is a most beautiful intermixture of black and white, like a species of marble. The ground is let out by the “káíd,” who resides here, and whose name at the present time is Zén, in small portions, where the diggings are made, and he levies a tribute called the khomús from each hofra, or hole, the rest being sold by the workmen.

The largest pieces of salt which are dug out here measure 3 feet 5 inches in length, 13 inches in height, and 2⅓ inches in thickness, but they are of very unequal size, varying from 50 to 65 lb. in weight; this, however, is only half of one layer, each layer being sawn into two slabs. The price of these slabs of course varies greatly at different times, but, as far as I became aware, in general does not reach such an exorbitant price as has been mentioned by Leo Africanus, Mr. Jackson, General Daumas, and others. When lowest, the price of each middle-sized slab does not exceed 3000 shells; and the highest price which was paid during my residence in the town was 6000, the price always rising towards spring, when the salt caravans become scarce on account of the number of blood-flies which infest the town and the neighbourhood of the river. Of course, when this great highroad is shut up for a long period, in consequence of feuds between the various tribes, the price may for a time rise much higher, but such cases must be quite exceptional.

The trade in salt on a large scale, as far as regards Timbúktu, is entirely carried on by means of the túrkedí, or the cloth for female apparel, manufactured in Kanó; the merchants of Ghadámes bartering in the market of Árawán six túrkedí, or “mélhafa,” for nine slabs, or “hajra,” of salt, on condition that the Arabs bring the salt ready to market; or twelve, including the carriage to Taödénni. If they themselves then carry the salt to Timbúktu, they sell there eight slabs of salt for six mithkál of gold; but if they carry it to Sansándi, each slab of salt fetches two mithkál.

But the expense of this journey up the river is very great, on account of the boats being obliged to unship their merchandise at the islands of Jafarábe, whence it is taken to Sansándi on the backs of asses, and on account of the ʿashúr, which is levied by the Fúlbe, the expense is equal to about thirty-three per cent; so that, out of every six slabs of salt transported to Sansándi, two are required for covering the expense of transport. Thus, each túrkedí bought in Kanó for about 1800 shells fetches two mithkál of gold when sold in Sansándi, while in Timbúktu it fetches from one to one and one sixth. This certainly, when we take into account the price of gold in Ghadámes and Tripoli, is a considerable profit: but the road which this merchandise takes from Kanó to Ghát, thence to Tawát, and from that place to Timbúktu, is very circuitous and expensive, and requires the agency and cooperation of several persons, no single merchant undertaking the whole of the traffic.

I have already remarked, in the proper place, that Libtáko, or rather Dóre, forms the market-place for the salt for supplying the provinces to the south-east of Timbúktu. It is transported thither by a direct road by way of Tósaye or Gógó, without touching at Timbúktu; while, with regard to the region to the south-west, Sansándi is the great entrepôt for this commerce. The trade in this article, which, in countries where it is wanting entirely, becomes so precious, and the more so the greater its bulk, is, as I said before, of very ancient date in this western part of Negroland. But the salt was brought at that period, not from Taödénni, but from the neighbouring salt mines of Tegháza; and, in the former period, found its entrepôt in Ghánata and Waláta.

The gúro, or kóla nut, which constitutes one of the greatest luxuries of Negroland, is also a most important article of trade. Possessing this, the natives do not feel the want of coffee, which they might so easily cultivate to any extent, the coffee plant seeming to be indigenous in many parts of Negroland. The gúro which is brought to the market of Timbúktu is imported from the provinces of Tangréra, the town which was touched at by M. Caillié on his journey from Sierra Leone to Morocco, and of Teuté and Káni, to the south of Timé; while the gúro which is brought to the market of Kanó is imported from the northern province of Asanti; and the trees which furnish these different kinds of kóla nuts do not belong to the same species, being distinguished as Sterculia acuminata, or the red kóla nut, and Sterculia macrocarpa, or the white kóla nut; although the variety appears merely to apply to the seed, the fruit of the latter kind being generally of larger size, while both flower and leaf are quite identical.

But there is a good deal of variety in the character of the gúro nut of each of these two species; and in Kanó four different kinds are distinguished, according to the size of the fruit; namely, the guríye, the largest fruit, which often measures an inch and a half, and sometimes even nearly two inches in diameter, and is sold at a very high price; secondly, the marsakátu; in the third place, the sára-n-wága; and fourth, the ménu. But this is not all. There is a further distinction of three kinds, according to the season when the fruit is gathered: first, the já-n-karágu, the first gúro, which is collected about the end of February, but spoils easily, like the takdúf among the dates; secondly, the gammagári, collected at a later season, when the greater part of the fruit is ripe, and remaining from three to four months on the tree, being regarded by the Arabs as corresponding to those kind of dates called tásfirt; and lastly, there is the náta, the rest of the gúro, and of small size, which does not spoil.

As for the gúro sold in Timbúktu, I had no opportunity of observing so many different varieties, but only became aware of three distinctions being made, viz. the tinóro, or Tíno-úro, “úro” being the corresponding Songhay name for gúro, and Tíno, or Tína, the name of a district; then the kind called síga; and thirdly, that called fára-fára.

As regards Selga, the district to which the Háusa traders go for their supply of this article, three points are considered essential to the business of the kóla trade; first, that the people of Mósi bring their asses; secondly, that the Tonáwa, or natives of Asanti, bring the nut in sufficient quantities; and thirdly, that the state of the road is such as not to prevent the Háusa people from arriving. If one of these conditions is wanting, the trade is not flourishing. The price of the asses rises with the cheapness of the gúro. The average price of an ass in the market of Selga is 15,000 shells; while in Háusa the general price does not exceed 5000. But the fatáki, or native traders, take only as many asses with them from Háusa as are necessary for transporting their luggage, as the toll, or fitto, levied upon each ass by the petty chiefs on the road, is very considerable. From 5000 to 6000 gúro, or kóla nuts, constitute an ass load.

Selga, the market-place for this important article, being, it appears, a most miserable town, where even water is very scarce and can only be purchased at an exorbitant price, the merchants always manage to make their stay here as short as possible, awaiting the proper season in Yendi, a town said to be as large as Timbúktu, or in Kulféla, the great market-place of Mósi; and they are especially obliged to wait in case they arrive at the beginning of the rainy season, there being no kóla nuts before the latter part of the kharíf. The price of this nut in Timbúktu varies from 10 to 100 shells each, and always constitutes a luxury, so that, even on great festivals, alms consisting of this article are distributed by the rich people of the town.

So much for three of the most important articles of trade in Timbúktu,—gold, salt, and the kóla nut; the salt trade comprising also the dealings in the native cloth manufactured in Kanó, which forms the general medium of exchange for this article, and about which I have already spoken in detailing the commerce of the great entrepôt of Háusa. I will only add here, that, as Kanó is not a very old place, this want must have been supplied before from some other quarter. It is probable that, as long as Songhay was flourishing, such an import was not needed at all; and we find from several remarks made by El Bekrí, and other ancient geographers, that the art of weaving was very flourishing on the Upper Niger, but especially in the town of Silla, from very ancient times.[19] It is highly interesting to learn from these accounts that even in the eleventh century the cotton cloth was called in this region by the same name which it still bears at the present day, namely, “shigge.”

The price of the articles brought to this market from the region of the Upper Niger, especially from Sansándi, varies greatly, depending as it does upon the supply of the moment. Provisions, during my stay, were, generally speaking, very cheap, while Caillié complains of the high prices which prevailed in his time.[20] But it must also be taken into account that the French traveller proceeded from those very countries on the Upper Niger from which Timbúktu is supplied, and where, in consequence, provisions are infinitely cheaper, while I came from countries which, owing to the state of insecurity and warfare into which they have been plunged for a long series of years, were suffering from dearth and famine.

The chief produce brought to the market of Timbúktu consists of rice and negro corn; but I am quite unable to state the quantities imported. Besides these articles, one of the chief products is vegetable butter, or mai-kadéña, which, besides being employed for lighting the dwellings, is used most extensively in cookery as a substitute for animal butter, at least by the poorer class of the inhabitants. Smaller articles, such as pepper, ginger, which is consumed in very great quantities, and sundry other articles, are imported. A small quantity of cotton is also brought into the market, not from Sansándi, I think, but rather from Jimbálla and some of the neighbouring provinces, no cotton being cultivated in the neighbourhood of the town: but the natives do not seem to practise much weaving at home, even for their own private use.

At the time of my visit, the caravan trade with Morocco, which is by far the most important, was almost interrupted by the feuds raging among the tribes along that road, especially between the Érgebát and Tájakánt on the one side, and the various sections of the Tájakánt on the other. This is the reason why in that year there were no large caravans at all, which in general arrive about the beginning of November, and leave in December or January.

These caravans from the north are designated, by the Arabs in this region, by the curious name ʿakabár (in the plural, ʿakwabír); the origin of which I have not been able to make out, but it is evidently to be ranked among that class of hybrid words used by the people hereabouts, which belong neither to the Arabic nor to the Berber language. The same term is even used in Morocco to denote a very large caravan or an aggregate of many small caravans; but in Timbúktu the term kafla is quite unusual for small parties, the name in use being “réfega.”

In former times these caravans, at least those from Morocco by way of Téfilélet, and from the wádí Darʿa by way of the territory of the ʿAríb, seem to have been numerous, although they never amounted to the number mentioned in Mr. Jackson’s account of Morocco[21], and in various other works.

The small caravans of Tájakánt which arrived during my stay in the town, the largest of which did not number more than seventy or eighty camels, are rather an exception to the rule, and can therefore furnish no data with regard to the average, although I am quite sure that they very rarely exceed 1000 camels. The consequence of this state of things was, that, especially during the first part of my residence, the merchandise from the north fetched a very high price, and sugar was scarcely to be had at all.

With regard to European manufactures, the road from Morocco is still the most important for some articles, such as red cloth, coarse coverings, sashes, looking-glasses, cutlery, tobacco; while calico especially, bleached as well as unbleached, is also imported by way of Ghadámes, and in such quantities of late, that it has greatly excited the jealousy of the Morocco merchants. The inhabitants of Ghadámes are certainly the chief agents in spreading this manufacture over the whole north-western part of Africa, and, in consequence, several of the wealthier Ghadámsi merchants employ agents here. The most respectable among the foreign merchants in Timbúktu is Táleb Mohammed, who exercises at the same time a very considerable political influence; and the wealthiest merchants from Morocco besides him, during the time of my stay, were El Méhedi, the astronomer, Múlʿa ʿAbd e’ Salám, the nobleman, and my friend the Swéri: while among the Ghadámsi merchants, Mohammed ben Táleb, Snúsi ben Kyári, Mohammed Lebbe-Lebbe, Haj ʿAlí ben Sháwa, and Mohammed Weled el Kádhi, were those most worth mentioning.

But to apply even to these first-rate merchants a European standard of wealth would be quite erroneous, the actual property of none of them exceeding probably 10,000 dollars, and even that being rather an exceptional case. Scarcely any of them transact business on a large scale, the greater part of them being merely agents for other merchants residing in Ghadámes, Swéra (Mogador), Merákesh (Morocco), and Fás.

The greater part of the European merchandise comes by way of Swéra, where several European merchants reside, and from this quarter proceeds especially the common red cloth, which, together with calico, forms one of the chief articles of European trade brought into the market. All the calico which I saw bore the name of one and the same Manchester firm, printed upon it in Arabic letters. But I am quite unable, either with respect to this article or any other, to give an account of the quantity brought into market. All the cutlery in Timbúktu is of English workmanship. Tea forms a standard article of consumption with the Arabs settled in and around the town; for the natives it is rather too expensive a luxury.

A feature which greatly distinguishes the market of Timbúktu from that of Kanó, is the almost entire absence of that miserable kind of silk, or rather refuse, “twáni” and “kundra,” which forms the staple article in the market of Kanó. Other articles also of the delicate Nüremberg manufacture are entirely wanting in this market: such as the small round looking-glasses, called “lemmʿa,” which some time ago had almost a general currency in Kanó. The market of Timbúktu, therefore, though not so rich in quantity, surpasses the rival market of Kanó in the quality of the merchandise. Bernúses, or Arab cloaks, furnished with a hood, also seem to be disposed of here to a considerable extent, although they must form too costly a dress for most of the officers at the courts of the petty chiefs, in the reduced state of all the kingdoms hereabouts; and at all events they are much more rarely seen here than in the eastern part of Negroland. These bernúses of course are prepared by the Arabs and Moors in the north, but the cloth is of European manufacture. The calico imported constitutes a very important article. It is carried from here up the country as far as Sansándi, although in the latter place it comes into competition with the same article which is brought from the western and south-western coasts.

Among the Arab merchandise tobacco forms a considerable article of consumption, especially that produced in Wádí Nún, and called, par excellence, “el warga,” “the leaf,” as it is not only smoked by the Arabs and natives in the country, as far as they are not exposed to the censure of the ruling race of the Fúlbe, but is even exported to Sansándi. I have already observed that tobacco constitutes a contraband article in all the towns where the Fúlbe of Hamda-Alláhi exercise dominion, and in Timbúktu especially, where one can only indulge in this luxury in a clandestine manner.

Tobacco, together with dates, forms also the chief article of import from Tawát, the species from that place being called “el wargat,” the leaves indicating its inferior character to the first-rate article from Wadí Nún. Dates and tobacco form articles of trade among the people of Tawát, the poor tradesmen of that country possessing very little of themselves besides. But the quantity of these articles imported has also been greatly overrated by those who have spoken of the commercial relations of these regions from a distance. At least I am sure that the whole of the time I was staying in the town only about twenty camel- loads of these two articles together were imported.

With regard to exports, they consisted, at the time of my stay in the place, of very little besides gold and a moderate quantity of gum and wax, while ivory and slaves, as far as I was able to ascertain, seemed not to be exported to any considerable amount. However, a tolerable proportion of the entire export from these regions proceeds by way of Árawán, without touching at Timbúktu. At any rate, those gentlemen who estimate the annual export of slaves from Negroland to Morocco at about 4000[22] are certainly mistaken, although in this, as well as in other respects, the exceptional and anarchical state of the whole country at the time of my residence, and my own most critical situation, did not allow me to arrive at any positive results. Thus much is certain, that an immense field is here opened to European energy, to revive the trade which, under a stable government, formerly animated this quarter of the globe, and which might again flourish to great extent. For the situation of Timbúktu is of the highest commercial importance, lying as it does at the point where the great river of Western Africa, in a serpentlike winding, approaches most closely to that outlying and most extensive oasis of “the far West,”—Mághreb el Aksa, of the Mohammedan world,—I mean Tawát, which forms the natural medium between the commercial life of this fertile and populous region and the north; and whether it be Timbúktu, Waláta, or Ghánata, there will always be in this neighbourhood a great commercial entrepôt, as long as mankind retain their tendency to international intercourse and exchange of produce.

[Footnote 1: I possess two of these essays, the contents of which at the present moment are not quite devoid of interest, as they show in what light these Mohammedans regard the Christians.]

[Footnote 2: I assume here the identity of these two rivers, which, however, has not yet been fully demonstrated. Compare also the anomalous rising of the Chobé (Journ. Royal Geol. Soc., vol. xxii. p. 169.); although an isolated phenomenon, caused by an unusual and unequal fall of rain in the basin of the various branches of a great river-system, must not be confounded with a constant and regular course.]

[Footnote 3: See Isert in the Journal Hertha, vol. x. a. 1827, p. 374.; M‘Gill in Berghaus’s Journal (Zeitschrift), vol. viii. a. 1848, p. 59-61.; with regard to Cape Palmas, Fraissinet in Nouvelles Annales des Voyages, 1855, vol. ii. p. 291-293.]

[Footnote 4: See Tomaro from Caillié’s Observations in Berghaus’s Annal. 1829, p. 769.; but especially Caillié’s own account of his stay in Timé, vol. i. p. 328. (Eng. ed.): “The rains, to be sure, were not so incessant, but we regularly had rain every day, until October, when it became less frequent.” We know also from Caillié that the Milo, the South-eastern branch of the Niger, or Dhiúlibá, reaches its highest level in September. Park’s observations, even, show that the rains in the districts traversed by him extend till November; while we learn from him (Park’s First Journey, 3rd ed. 4to. p. 12.) that the Gambia, whose feeders partly issue from the same districts which feed the western branches of the Niger, reaches its highest level in the beginning of October; and when we learn, from the same eminent traveller, that by the beginning of November the Gambia had sunk already to its former level, we must take into account the very short course of that river in comparison with the Niger which has a course of two thousand miles. The sinking of the Niger at Sansándi by about four inches, on the 8th of October (Park, vol. ii. p. 274), was only a temporary fluctuation.]

[Footnote 5: See Laird and Oldfield, vol. ii. p. 275. “It was a source of satisfaction to find that, owing to the rains up the country, the river began to rise about Saturday, March 22nd, since which time it had increased about two inches. A few drops of rain that fell this morning was all that we had at Iddah.”]

[Footnote 6: Shabíni, in stating that the báb el gibleh was the east gate, certainly labours under a mistake, “gibleh” with these Western Arabs signifying the west. With regard to the creek, where we saw the boats, see the ground plan, Vol. IV. p. 478, n. 10.]

[Footnote 7: The hippopotamus being called “banga” in the Songhay language, the name, if really derived from that cause, ought to be spelt “Bangíndi;” but the g may be a nasal sound.]

[Footnote 8: I have handed over this specimen of Timbúktu manufacture, together with other specimens of leather-work, to the Foreign Office.]

[Footnote 9: It may have been so, nevertheless, in the time of Leo, who mentions the many “botteghe di tessitori di tele di bambagio.” B. vii. c. 5.]

[Footnote 10: I will here only observe that Lord Fitzclarence, owing to the inquiries which, on his passage along the Red Sea, he made of a clever pilgrim, obtained a hint of this interesting fact. Journey from India overland, p. 423.]

[Footnote 11: M. Gråberg de Hemsö estimates the export of Morocco manufactures to Negroland at one million dollars, and the import to Morocco from Nigritia, at from three to four millions. Specchio di Morocco, &c., p. 146.]

[Footnote 12: M. Testa, in his “Notice statistique et commerciale sur la Régence de Tripoli, 1856,” states the import of gold dust into Tripoli to be of the value of 240,000 francs.]

[Footnote 13: Whether it be true as some maintain (amongst others M. Prax, “Commerce de l’Algérie, 1849,” p. 13.), that the name mithkál is a corruption of “medical,” a term used to denote the small weight used for medical purposes, I am not able to decide. I always thought that it was derived from ثَقَلَ.]

[Footnote 14: M. Prax, p. 12. of the little pamphlet just mentioned in the preceding note, is totally wrong in supposing the mithkál of Timbúktu equal to half a duro, or Spanish dollar, or two fr. sixty cents. The very lowest price is just double.]

[Footnote 15: There are some interesting articles of gold represented by Lord Fitzclarence in the work above mentioned.]

[Footnote 16: See El Bekrí, ed. de Slane, p. 174:—

يبدل الملح فيها بالذهب

In another passage (p. 183.) he describes the commerce of Gógó in the words:—

وتجارة اهل بلد كوكوا بالملح وهو نقدهم

“The commerce of Gógó consists of salt, and salt is their standard currency.”]

[Footnote 17: See Caillié’s Travels to Timbuctoo, ii. p. 119; and about Tegháza, or, as he writes, Trasas, or Trarzas, p. 128.]

[Footnote 18: El Bekrí, p. 171. In the time of Ébn Haukál (a. H. 960) the salt was brought from Aúlíl to Aúdaghost.]

[Footnote 19: El Bekrí, p. 173:—

وتبايع اهل سلي بالذرة والملح وحلق النحاس وازر لطاف من قطن يسمونها الشكيات - الازر المسماة بالشكياتن]

[Footnote 20: Caillié, Journey to Timbúctoo, ii. p. 33.]

[Footnote 21: P. 96. Here Jackson states the average size of such a caravan at 10,000 camels; and even the more cautious M. Gråberg de Hemsö repeats these statements in his “Specchio di Morocco,” p. 144. seq. “Ciononostante (le caravane) conducono talvolta seco da 16 fino a 20 mila cammelli.”]

[Footnote 22: Gråberg de Hemsö, Specchio di Morocco, p. 146. Besides slaves, he enumerates as articles of export from Timbúktu to Morocco, ivory, rhinoceros horns, incense, gold dust, cotton strips (? verghe), jewels, ostrich feathers of the first quality, gum copal, cotton, pepper, cardamom, asafœtida, and indigo.]

CHAP. LXXI.

DIARY CONTINUED.

Being enabled to collect a good deal of information, as far as my situation allowed, I did not choose to accompany the Sheikh when he again went to the tents on the 24th of January. He promised that he would only stay a day or two, but he did not return until the 29th. On this occasion I took the liberty of reminding him that he was not over- scrupulous in keeping his word; but, in his amiable way, he evasively replied, “that if a person had only one fault, or ‘ʿaíb,’ it was of no consequence.” Among my informants at this time, two Kanúri travellers, who had visited all the countries of the Wángaráwa, or Eastern Mandingoes, and one of whom had penetrated even as far as the Gold Coast, were most distinguished. Besides a good deal of information, especially with regard to the topography of the country of Mósi, they gave me an account of the petty struggle between the Swedish and the Tonáwa or Asanti; and they also informed me that the Mósi people had plundered the villages of Dúna, Kúbo, and Isáy, all of them belonging to the province of Dalla, which we had passed on our road hither, and where, they said, no inhabitants were now left. The sheikho Áhmedu, after having collected an expedition against the Íregenáten, had changed his plans, in order to march against the mountain stronghold of Konna; but, as we afterwards heard, he was repulsed by the natives, the Sáro, who, relying upon their strong position, defended themselves with great valour.

Meanwhile, the salt, the staple produce of Timbúktu, gradually became dearer, the large “rás” fetching now 3800 shells; for, as I have stated, the price constantly increases, caravans not being enabled to visit the place during the following months, till the end of April, on account of the large blood-flies infesting the river. A small caravan containing from forty to fifty camels, which arrived on the 28th, was one of the latest that came into the town.

Thus ended the month of January, with utter disappointment at the failure of my expected departure, and with nothing but empty promises. After a sleepless night, I awoke on the 1st of February full of anxiety. I felt really afraid lest my host, notwithstanding his friendly disposition towards me, might keep me here the whole summer. At length I eased my mind in a slight degree by writing a letter to the Sheikh, wherein I made him a witness against himself, in having so repeatedly given me his word, that I should certainly leave this city and proceed on my home journey. But matters, indeed, now looked more serious, another Púllo officer of well-known energy, viz. Átkar, the governor of Gúndam and Díre, having arrived with a considerable troop of armed men from Hamda-Állahi, and another man of still more importance, Áhmed el Férreji, was soon expected. The Fúlbe seemed fully resolved to vindicate their power and authority over the town; and, in order to show that they were masters of the place, they exacted this year a tribute of 2000 shells on each slave with great severity.

Uncertain as were my prospects, I contrived to pass my time usefully by applying myself to the study of the idiom of the Western Tawárek, with Mohammed ben Khottár, the Sheikh’s nephew, and a Tárki of the name of Músa, for my teachers. Thus endeavouring to master my impatience, I listened with composure to the several rumours which were repeatedly spread with regard to the arrival of the various brothers of the Sheikh, an event which, according to his statement, formed now the only reason for delaying my departure. But in a long private conversation which I had with him on the 4th, when I urged him more than usual, he began to appeal to my humane feelings, and, discarding all political motives, confessed that the chief reason which detained him was the pregnancy of his wife, and earnestly begged me to await the result of this event.

All this time, on account of the unusual height which the inundation had reached this year, a great deal of sickness prevailed in the town; and among the various people who fell a sacrifice to the disease was the son of Táleb Mohammed, the richest and most influential Arab merchant in the place, whose life I should have liked very much to save; but, seeing that the cure was very uncertain, I thought it more prudent (as I always did in such cases) not to give him any medicine at all.

Having staid several days in the town, we again went out to the tents in the afternoon of the 8th, in the company of Rummán and Mushtába, two Tawárek chiefs who had come to pay the Sheikh a visit. On emerging from the Áberaz, I had with the latter a horse-race to some distance. As the Fullán seemed to have some projects against the Tawárek, and had strengthened their military power in the town of Gúndam, these Berber tribes were very much irritated against the former; they had even made an attack on a boat, and killed one of the Fullán and wounded another, while those of their tribe who were settled nearest to Gúndam thought it more prudent to change their dwelling-place, and to migrate further eastward.

According to the profession of the two chiefs who accompanied us, they did not wish to be at peace with that warlike tribe which is daily spreading in every direction; but, notwithstanding their personal valour, the Tawárek are so wanting in unity that they can never follow any line of policy with very great results, while those who have a little property of their own are easily gained over by the other party. Thus, instead of sticking closely to the Sheikh, and enabling him to make a firm stand against the Fullán, they seriously affected his interest at this time, by plundering, disarming, and slaying four Tawáti, who belonged to a small caravan that arrived on the 11th, and who, like all their countrymen, enjoyed the special protection of the Sheikh.

My friend seemed at this moment to doubt the arrival of his brothers, not less than that of Alkúttabu, the great chief of the Awelímmiden, and endeavoured to console me for the long delay of my departure by saying that it was the custom with them to keep their guests at least a year in their company. He informed me, at the same time, that he wanted to make me a present of a horse, and that I might then, if I liked, give one of my own horses to Alkúttabu. He was this day more communicative than usual, and sat a long time with me and his pupils, delivering to us a lecture on the equal rank of the prophets, who, he said, had each of them one distinguishing quality, but that none of them ought to be preferred to the other. He dwelt particularly on the distinguished qualities of Moses, or Músa, who was a great favourite with him, although he was far from being friendly disposed towards the Jews, the spirit of Mohammed Ben ʿAbd el Kerím el Maghíli, who hated that nation from the bottom of his heart, and preached the Jihád against it, having communicated itself to the Mohammedan inhabitants of this part of Negroland.

At another time my friend entered, without any prejudice, into the subject of wine and pork, and he had not much to say against the argument with which I used to defend myself from attacks in this respect; viz. that while we believed religion to concern the soul and the dealings of men towards each other, we thought all that regarded food was left by the Creator to man himself; but, of course, he would have been greatly shocked if he had beheld the scenes exhibited every evening by gin palaces in the midst of the very acme of European civilisation.

At other times again, taking out of his small library the Arabic version of Hippocrates, which he valued extremely, he was very anxious for information as to the identity of the plants mentioned by the Arab authors. This volume of Hippocrates had been a present from Captain Clapperton to Sultan Bello of Sókoto, from whom my friend had received it among other articles as an acknowledgment of his learning. I may assert, with full confidence, that those few books taken by the gallant Scotch captain into Central Africa have had a greater effect in reconciling the men of authority in Africa to the character of Europeans, than the most costly present ever made to them; and I hope, therefore, that gifts like these may not be looked upon grudgingly by people who would otherwise object to do anything which might seem to favour Mohammedanism.

We staid at the tents till the 14th; the time, on this occasion, hanging less heavily upon my hands than formerly, in consequence of the more cheerful and communicative disposition of my host, and because I was able to gather some little information. The weather, too, was more genial. We had a really warm day on the 13th, and I employed the fine morning in taking a long walk over the several small sandy ridges which intersect this district. There were just at the time very few people about here who might cause me any danger, and I only fell in with the goatherds, who were feeding their flocks by cutting down those branches of the thorny trees which contained young offshoots and leaves. But the Sheikh, having received some private information, suspected that our enemies might make another attempt against my safety; and having requested me to send my servant, ʿAbd-Alláhi, into the town, in the course of the day, to inform my people that we were about to return, he mounted with me, after the moon had risen, and we again entered our old quarters.

[Sidenote: February 16th.]

This morning one of my men, the Zaberma half-caste, Sambo, whom I had taken into my service at the residence of Galaijo, came to request to be dismissed my service. In the afternoon I went to pay my respects to the Sheikh, and was rather astonished to hear him announce my departure more seriously and more firmly than usual: but the reason was, that he had authentic news that his elder brother, Sídi Mohammed, whose arrival he had been expecting so long, and whom he wanted to leave in his stead when obliged to escort me the first part of my journey, was close at hand. The big drum having really announced his arrival at the tents, we mounted on horseback, half an hour before midnight, and arrived at the encampment a little before two o’clock in the morning. Here everything, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, bore a festive character, and a large tent had been pitched for the noble visitor at the foot of the hilly slope, the top of which was occupied by the Sheikh’s own tents.

The eldest member of this princely family was a man a little above the middle height and strongly built, with a fine commanding expression of countenance, and manners more stern and warlike than those of El Bakáy, but not wanting in affability and natural cheerfulness. In the position in which I was placed, as a stranger, not only of a foreign country and nationality, but of an opposite creed, and as the cause of so many difficulties to these people in their political affairs, I could not expect that this man would receive me, at our first interview, with remarkable kindness and cordiality. It was therefore not to be wondered at that, in the beginning, he asked me a great many questions which it was not agreeable for me to answer in the presence of strangers.

Next day, Hammádi, the son of El Mukhtár, the near relative of El Bakáy, and the latter’s chief adversary, and therefore my enemy, arrived with several followers at the encampment. El Bakáy constrained himself, for his elder brother’s sake, to remain in the same tent with Hammádi; but Sídi Alawáte, the younger and more reckless brother, was not to be persuaded to enter the tent as long as his hated cousin was there. He spent the day in my tent till his enemy was gone. Sídi Mohammed did not seem to be at all unfavourably disposed towards Hammádi, and wanted even to enter the town in his company; but he was obliged to yield to the combined efforts of his two younger brothers, who refused the company of their cousin.

This was the first opportunity I had of seeing Hammádi, with whom I had wished from the beginning to be on friendly terms, but was forced by the policy of my host to avoid all intercourse with him, and thus to make him my adversary, as he was that of the Sheikh. I had received a favourable account of his learning from different quarters; but his personal appearance was certainly not very prepossessing. He was of a stout figure, with broad coarse features, strongly marked with the small-pox, and of a very dark complexion, his descent from a female slave being his chief disadvantage.

Sídi Mohammed was very anxious to get into the town, but El Bakáy, with his usual slowness, and perhaps this time longer detained by the interesting situation of his wife, made his appearance at a very late hour in the afternoon, and endeavoured to defer our departure till the next day; but his elder brother was too energetic to be thus put off, and having given sufficient vent to his dissatisfaction on account of the too great influence which Mrs. Bák (that was the name of El Bakáy’s wife) exercised over his brother, and asking me with an ingenious turn whether I knew who was more influential than sheikho Áhmedu ben Áhmedu and lorded it over his brother, he mounted his horse and sent his young nephew to tell his father that he was ready and was expecting him. Thus forced against his own inclination, the Sheikh at length disengaged himself from his family, and we went into the town in the company of a few horsemen who had come out to pay their respects to Sídi Mohammed, firing a few shots as we entered the place.

Of course, in a town where no strong government is established, and where every great man exercised all the influence and power of which he was capable, due homage and tribute were to be rendered to this potentate of the desert who came to honour it with a visit. A musical performance took place in front of the house of the Sheikh, where he took up his quarters; and each foreign merchant prepared a gift, according to his wealth, by which to obtain the protection of this man, or rather to forestall his intrigues. These gifts were by no means small; and I felt a great deal of compassion for my friend ʿAlí ben Táleb, whose present, although by no means trifling, was sent back by Sídi Mohammed as neither adequate to the dignity of the receiver nor to that of the giver. I myself also found it necessary to make to this dignitary a respectable present. I gave him the finest bernús or Arab mantle which I had still left, besides a black tobe, and sundry smaller articles.

In other respects the town at this time became rather quieter, and trade was more dull. The small caravan of the Tájakánt, some members of which had only spent a few days in the town, left on the 20th; and the only articles which they took with them were salt and a little calico. Even directly from the north, along the most frequented route, the trade became insignificant; and a party of merchants who arrived from Tawát on the following day was exceedingly small. Among them were two respectable Ghadámsíye merchants, but having resided three or four months in Tawát, they brought neither recent news nor letters for me. However, they came just in time, as on the 22nd a countryman of theirs, of some importance, died, and I learned on this occasion something about the property of merchants in this place. The deceased was a tolerably wealthy man; among the property which he left there being found about 2000 mithkál in gold, a considerable sum of money for this place, although it did not belong to himself, but to the Tíniyan, or the well-known Ghadámsi family of the Tíni, whose agent he was. The house where he lived was worth 200 mithkál.

Having, while in the town, much time at my disposal, and only little intercourse with the people, I had made ready another parcel containing the information which I had been able to collect for sending to Europe; and it was well that I had done so, as early on the 26th a small troop of poor Tawáti traders left for their native home. But, unfortunately, this parcel did not find Her Britannic Majesty’s agent to whom it was addressed at Ghadámes, as he had left his post for the Crimea; and thus my family was thrown into the deepest grief in consequence of the rumour of my death; all my effects were buried; and when I arrived at length in Háusa, where I had reckoned to find every thing that I wanted, I found even the supplies which I had left drawn away from me, as from a dead man.

Almost the whole of January and the beginning of February had been in general cold, with a thick and foggy atmosphere, well representing that season which the Tawárek call with the emphatic and expressive name “the black nights,” éhaden esáttafnén; and all this time the river was continually rising or preserving the highest level which it had reached. But on the 17th the river, after having puzzled us several times as to its actual state, had really begun to decrease, and almost immediately afterwards the weather became clearer and finer, thus testifying to the assertion of the Tawárek—who have exchanged their abodes in the desert for this border district along the river, as well as the Arabs, who give to this season the name of the forty nights—that the river never begins really to decrease before the end of this period. The greatest danger from the inundation is just at this time, when the waters recede, as the rising ground on which the hamlets along the shore are situated has been undermined and frequently gives way; and we received intelligence on the 22nd that the hamlet of Bétagungu, which is situated between Kábara and Gúndam, had been destroyed in this manner.

Although I had enjoyed a greater degree of security for some time, my situation, after a short respite, soon assumed again a serious character, and hostile elements were gathering from different quarters; for, while a very important mission was just approaching from Hamda- Alláhi, on the 25th we received the news that ʿAbidín, that member of the family of Mukhtár who followed a policy entirely opposite to that of El Bakáy, was reported to be near, and he was conducted into the town by Hammádi with considerable display.

In the morning of the following day, just as the atmosphere changed from bright to gloomy, a powerful Púllo officer, and a prince of the blood, Hámedu, a son of Mohammed Lebbo, entered the town with a numerous troop on horseback and on foot, among whom were ten musketeers. They marched past my house on purpose, although the direct road from Kábara did not lead that way, in order to frighten me, while I, with the intention of showing them that they had entirely failed in their object, opened the door of my house, displaying in the hall all my firearms, and my people close at hand ready to use them.

But my little band became more and more reduced, for when the chief of my followers, the Méjebrí, ʿAlí el Ágeren, saw a fresh storm gathering against me, he disclaimed any further obligation towards me, notwithstanding the salary which he continued to receive. But, as I had given him up long before, this further manifestation of his faithlessness did not make a great impression upon me. On the other hand, I had attached to myself, by the present which I had bestowed upon him, the eldest brother of the family upon whose good-will, under the present circumstances, a great deal depended.

Thus approached the 27th of February, when the real character of the mission from Hamda-Alláhi, of which Hámedu had only been the forerunner, was disclosed. Having been in a lazy and rather melancholy mood the whole day, I was reclining on my simple couch in the evening, when I was surprised by the Sheikh’s nephew entering abruptly, and, although betraying by his sad and serious countenance that something very grave oppressed his mind, yet squatting silently down without being able or feeling inclined to say a word. Scarcely had he left me, when my Tawáti friend, Mohammed el ʿAísh, who continued to show me a great deal of kindness and sympathy, called me into the Sheikh’s presence. I was ushered in with great precaution through the hall and up the narrow winding staircase, and found the three brothers in the terrace-room engaged in serious consultation.

After I had taken my seat, they informed me that the Fullán were making a last attempt against my safety, and that, together with Kaúri, the former emír, a distinguished nobleman of the name of Mohammed el Férreji, had arrived in Kábara accompanied by a troop of about one hundred men, and that the latter messenger had addressed to my host two letters of very different character and tenour, one being full of manifestations of friendship, and the other couched in most threatening terms, to the effect that something serious would happen if he did not send me off before he (Férreji) entered the town. But, no active course of proceedings was resolved upon, although Mohammed, who was the most energetic of the three, proposed that we should mount on horseback and pass the night on the road to Kábara, partly in order to prevent the inhabitants of the town from joining the Fullán in that place, in conformity with the order which they had received, partly in order to intercept anything that might come from the hostile camp. While proposing this energetic measure, the chief of Ázawád was playing with his four-barreled musket, which, even under these momentous circumstances, excited my curiosity almost more than anything else, as I had never seen anything like it in Europe. It was of excellent workmanship, but I could not say of what peculiar character, as it did not bear any distinct mark of nationality. Of course I suspected, when I first beheld it, that it had belonged to the late unfortunate Major Laing, but I was distinctly assured by all the people, though I would scarcely believe it, that this was not the case, and that it had been purchased from American traders at Portendik. At present it was rather short, the uppermost part having been taken off in consequence of an accident; but it was nevertheless a very useful weapon and not at all heavy. It was made for flints, there being only two cocks, but a cannon to each barrel.

Having discussed various proposals with regard to my safety, with characteristic slowness, and coupling serious observations with various amusing stories, Sídi Mohammed sat down and wrote a formal protest in my favour, and sent it to the emír Kaúri. However, I doubt whether, on a serious inquiry, this paper would have been regarded by Christians as very flattering to their position in the world; the principal argument brought forward by my noble friend and protector for not dealing with me in so cruel a manner being, that I was not “ákáfir” than the “ráís,” meaning that I was not a greater “káfir,” or unbeliever, than Major Laing; for, besides not being very complimentary, it left it open to our adversaries to reply, that they did not intend to treat me worse than the Major had been treated, who, as is well known, having been forced to leave the town, was barbarously murdered in the desert.

A messenger from the emír having arrived, the Sheikh himself made a long speech, telling him under what circumstances I had reached this place, and that now I had once placed myself under his protection, there was nothing but honourable peace, both for himself and his guest, or war. Upon this the messenger observed in an ironical manner, that, El Férreji (who had been sent to compromise with the Sheikh) being a learned man like himself, everything would end well; meaning, that they would know, if not able to succeed by force, how to vanquish him with arguments taken from their creed. Another protest having been sent to Táleb Mohammed, who, as I stated before, although nothing but a merchant, exercised a great political influence in this anarchical place, I went home to refresh myself with a cup of tea, and then made preparations for the eventual defence of my house, and for hiding the more valuable of my effects: after which I returned to the residence of El Bakáy, about midnight, and found the holy man himself, armed with a double-barreled gun, about to enter the great segífa, or parlour, which he had allotted to his faithful and discreet storekeeper, Táleb el Wáfi. Here we sat down; and soon about forty men gathered round us, armed partly with spears and partly with muskets, when, after a great deal of useless talk as to what was to be done, it was agreed upon to send one messenger to the Tawárek chiefs, Rummán and Mushtába, whose acquaintance I had made on a former occasion, and who at present were encamped in Mushérrek, a locality rich in pasture-grounds and well protected by three branches of the river, to the south-west of the town,—and another messenger to our friends the Kel-úlli, in order to summon these people to our assistance.

Meanwhile the Sheikh, seated on the raised platform of clay which occupied the left corner of the parlour, entertained the sleepy assembly with stories of the prophets, especially Músa and Mohammed, and the victories achieved by the latter, in the beginning of his career, over his numerous adversaries. The quiet of the listless assembly was only disturbed for a time by a shriek issuing from the northern part of the town, and everybody snatched his gun and ran out; but it was soon found that the alarm was caused by our own messengers, who, on leaving the place, had disturbed the repose of the inhabitants of the suburb, or “Áberaz,” the latter supposing them to belong to a foray of the predatory and enterprising Welád ʿAlúsh, who were then infesting Ázawád.

Having thus sat up the whole night, full of curious reflections on these tragi-comic scenes, I returned to my quarters about five o’clock in the morning, and endeavoured to raise my exhausted spirits by means of some coffee. However, our precautions, insufficient as they might seem to a European, had had their full effect, and the Púllo messenger did not dare to enter the town before noon, and even then, although joined by about sixty horsemen from the townspeople, was afraid to traverse our warlike quarter.

Meanwhile Sídi Mohammed and Álawáte had left the town with a troop of armed men, under the pretext of observing the movements of the enemy, but perhaps in order to show them that they themselves did not coincide with all the views of the Sheikh. Going then to the residence, I found nearly two hundred people assembled there, most of them armed, and including among their number even the Púllo, Mohammed ben ʿAbd-Alláhi, who did not conceal the greater friendship he felt for the Sheikh than for his own countrymen, the Fúlbe of Hamda-Alláhi. While I was there, Mohammed Sʿaíd, the officer who had been sent to capture me on a previous occasion, was despatched as a messenger by Férreji, the new officer; and, under the present circumstances, disguising all hostile intentions, he was desirous to know what was the reason of this show of arms; such not being in accordance with the Sheikh’s former character, and it being rather his duty to bestow hospitable treatment upon his old friend, El Férreji.

Although this was rather a curious distortion of facts, I was still more astonished at the answer of the Sheikh, who replied, that he had only followed the example of his two brothers. But the business was not settled in this manner. Late in the evening there was another serious consultation in the terrace-room of the Sheikh, and Sídi Álawáte was despatched to Férreji to elicit from him an indication of his real intentions. Sídi Mohammed, meanwhile, in order to pass away the time, opened a cheerful and jocose conversation, by questioning me respecting the social position and the various relations of the other sex in my own country,—a subject which always possesses a great deal of attraction, even amongst the most serious of the Mohammedans.

Having then been obliged to withdraw, as Álawáte had pretended that he could only communicate his message from the officer sent from Hamda- Alláhi to El Bakáy himself, I returned home; but, long after midnight, I received a visit from the latter, who came to inform me that Férreji had brought nothing but favourable letters from Hamda-Alláhi, having written, as he said, the threatening letter from Kábara merely at the instigation of the Sahelíye, or merchants from Morocco; and that he himself, on his part, had assured Férreji that, if Sheikho Áhmedu left me alone, I should be forwarded on my home journey after a short delay; but adding, that the Fúlbe ought to assist him from the public revenue, in order to hasten my departure.

The same day I witnessed an interesting episode in the private life of these people. The Sheikh’s mother-in-law having died, he went to pray for her soul at the “ródha,” or sepulchre, of Sídi Mukhtár, a sacred locality a few hundred yards on the east side of the town, which in my career in this place was to become of greater importance to me. Such is the reverence which these Arabs have for the female portion of their tribe. There are, moreover, several women famed for the holiness of their life, and even authoresses of well-digested religious tracts, among the tribe of the Kunta.

Political circumstances were not quite so favourable as my host wanted to represent them to me; as, like many other people, he was not very particular, when endeavouring to obtain a good object, about saying things that were not quite true: and the following day, when Férreji paid a visit to the Sheikh, he designated me as a war-chief and a “mehárebi,” or freebooter, who ought not to be allowed to remain any longer in the town. Altogether it was fortunate that El Bakáy had provided for the worst by sending for the Kel-úlli, who arrived in the course of the afternoon, about sixty strong, with great military demonstrations and beating of shields. It was on this occasion that I first made the acquaintance of this warlike tribe, who, notwithstanding their degraded position as Imghád, have made themselves conspicuous by totally annihilating the formerly powerful tribe of the Ígelád and Ímedídderen, who in former times ruled over Timbúktu and were hostile to the Kunta. The Kél-úlli are distinguished among all the tribes of the neighbourhood by three qualities which, to the European, would scarcely seem possible to be united in the same person, but which are not unfrequently found combined in the Arab tribes, viz. “réjela,” or valour; “sírge,” or thievishness; and “dhiyáfa,” or generous hospitality.

CHAP. LXXII.

GREAT CRISIS. — OBLIGED TO LEAVE THE TOWN. — MILITARY DEMONSTRATION.

There was now a fair opportunity offered me of leaving the town in an honourable way, under the protection of the friendly Kél-úlli, who for this very purpose had brought with them from the encampment my four camels; but the Sheikh missed this favourable occasion, by relying too much upon the promised arrival of the great Tawárek chief Alkúttabu. As for our friends the Tademékket, to whom Áhmed Wádáwi, the learned follower of the Sheikh, had been sent as a messenger, they did not come along with him, but sent word that they would follow him as soon as their presence was required; their chief Áwáb having gone to raise tribute from the degraded tribe of the Idélebó.

Uncertain as my situation was under these circumstances, I felt cheered by the not very improbable chance of my departure; for at length the last cause which had delayed me so long seemed to be removed, by El Bakáy’s wife giving birth to a child on the 4th of March. All political as well as domestic circumstances therefore seemed to conspire in rendering it possible for him to accompany me for the distance of some days; and he had really assured me the night before, when I was engaged in a consultation with him till near morning, that I should leave on the following Tuesday; but, having had too much insight into his dilatory character, I told him very plainly that I did not believe a word of it, as he had disappointed me so often. And I had reason to be satisfied with my scepticism, as the phantom of the “tábu,” or the great army of the Tawárek, with whose assistance he hoped to triumph over his enemies, did not allow him to adhere to any fixed plan. Now the “tábu” was really approaching; and it was merely some unforeseen circumstance, probably owing in part to the machinations of the party publicly or secretly opposed to the authority of the Sheikh, which prevented the great chief of all those westerly Tawárek from reaching Timbúktu, and crowning all the hopes and wishes of my protector.

It was in the afternoon of the 5th that we received undoubted news of the approach of the tábu, the shepherds seeking to secure their flocks by flight, and all those who had reason to fear the wrath or anger of their mighty liege lord endeavouring to reach the islands and creeks of the river as a place of safety. A messenger who arrived from Bamba, stated that the tábu had really reached the town of Égedesh, a few miles beyond Bamba; nay, even the state of the atmosphere seemed to confirm the news of the approach of a numerous host, as it was entirely enveloped in thick clouds of dust. But the Sheikh was a little too rash in sending, on the 6th, a message to El Férreji, giving him official information of the arrival of Alkúttabu. That officer answered, in a manly way, that he must not think of frightening him, and that he himself, if necessary, was fully able to summon an army from Fermágha and from Dár e’ Salám, the capital of the province of Jimbálla on the other side of the river; that he had come to drive me out of the town, and that he would at any cost achieve his purpose; and although the Sheikh’s rival, Hammádi, seemed to be frightened, and came to sue for peace, yet Sídi Mohammed was wearied with his brother’s continual procrastination, and from that day forward did all in his power to make me leave the town under any condition, and banish me to the tents.

There is no doubt that, in the event of the “tábu” not arriving, the Sheikh’s situation became more dangerous in consequence of the arrival of his brother ʿAbidín, who entered the town amidst a demonstration of firing and music on the afternoon of the 7th. All the three brothers went out on horseback to meet him; but this man, who was bent upon following a policy entirely opposed to that of El Bakáy, took up his quarters with Hammádi, the adversary of the latter. Even the eldest brother was so little satisfied with the Sheikh’s present policy, that, when I called upon him about midnight of that same day, a very serious conversation arose between the two brothers, Sídi Mohammed asking El Bakáy whether they were to fight the Fullán on account of a single individual, and one too of a foreign religion; and reproaching him at the same time with the fact, that his preparations did not advance, while on his part he did not think any preparations were necessary at all, as he was sure that not even the tribe of the Igwádaren, who are settled near Bamba, would do me any harm. But the Sheikh endeavoured to gain time, by telling his brother that he would send the following day for the horses from Kábara, and that he would write a letter to some chiefs on the road through whose territory I had to pass.

Having been a quiet spectator of this dispute I returned to my quarters, and in order to provide against any accident I packed up the remainder of my luggage, and made everything ready for starting. Meanwhile, Sídi Mohammed and Álawáte, in order to further their plans, had the same afternoon an appointment with ʿAbidín and Hammádi, where they probably determined as to the course to be pursued with regard to me: and El Bakáy, who went the same evening to pay a visit to ʿAbidín, seemed to have given a kind of half promise that I should leave in the afternoon of the 10th. But having obtained a short respite, in the course of the following day, he delayed my departure from day to day, expecting all the time the arrival of Alkúttabu.

Meanwhile, Sídi Mohammed had made a serious attack upon my religion, and called me always a káfir. But I told him that I was a real Moslim, the pure Islám, the true worship of the one God, dating from the time of Adam, and not from the time of Mohammed; and that thus, while adhering to the principle of the unity, and the most spiritual and sublime nature, of the Divine Being, I was a Moslim, professing the real Islám, although not adopting the worldly statutes of Mohammed, who, in everything that contained a general truth, only followed the principles established long before his time. I likewise added, that even they themselves regarded Plato and Aristotle as Moslemín, and that thus I myself was to be regarded as a Moslim, in a much stricter sense than these two pagan philosophers. I concluded by stating that the greater part of those who called themselves Moslemín did not deserve that name at all, but ought rather to be called Mohammedán, such as we named them, because they had raised their prophet above the Deity itself.

Being rather irritated and exasperated by the frequent attacks of Sídi Mohammed and Álawáte, I delivered my speech with great fervour and animation; and when I had concluded, Sídi Mohammed, who could not deny that the Kurán itself states that Islám dates from the creation of mankind, was not able to say a word in his defence. As for El Bakáy, he was greatly delighted at this clear exposition of my religious principles, but his younger brother, who certainly possessed a considerable degree of knowledge in religious matters, stated, in opposition to my argument, that the Caliphs, El Harún and Mʿamún, who had the books of Plato and Aristotle translated into Arabic, were Metʿazíla, that is to say, heretics, and not true Moslemín; but this assertion of course I did not admit, although much might be said in favour of my opponent. At all events, I had obtained some respite from the attacks of my friends; and having thus the support of them all, in the afternoon of the following day, the 10th of March, we went quietly to the tents in order to celebrate the “Sebúwa” (corresponding to the baptism of the Christians) of the new-born child. On this occasion I noticed that the water in the outlying creeks which we passed had only fallen about three feet since the 17th of February, which is less than two inches per day; but it is probable that the water of the principal branch decreases more rapidly than that of these winding backwaters.

The camp was full of animation, the Gwanín el Kohol, a section of the Bérabísh, having taken refuge in the encampment of the Sheikh from fear of the Kél-hekíkan, with whom they were on hostile terms. It was highly interesting for me to be thus brought into close contact with these people, who owe allegiance to the chief that had murdered Major Laing; and well aware that I could not fail to entertain a strong prejudice against them, they all thronged round me on my arrival, and hastened to assure me of their friendly disposition. They were armed with double- barreled guns, a weapon which, owing to the trade with the French, is now common through the whole of this part of the desert, the long single-barreled gun, the only favourite weapon with the Arabs to the north, being here regarded with contempt as befitting only the slave. In general, the people were of middle stature, although some of them were fine tall men and of a warlike and energetic appearance, having their shirts, mostly of a light blue colour, tied up over their shoulder and girt round the waist with a belt, the powderhorn hanging over the shoulder, quite in the same style as is the custom of their brethren nearer the shores of the Atlantic. Their head was uncovered, with the exception of their own rich black hair, or guffa, which, I am sorry to add, was full of vermin.

The same evening, although it was late, my host, who was certainly not wanting in hospitality, slaughtered five oxen, and in consequence we partook of supper about an hour after midnight. But that was not at all unusual here; and nothing during my stay in Timbúktu was more annoying to me, and more injurious to my health, than this unnatural mode of living, which surpasses in absurdity the late hours of London and Paris.

Early the next morning two more head of cattle were slaughtered, and enormous quantities of rice and meat were cooked for the great numbers of guests, who had flocked here together from the town and from all parts of the neighbouring district. Amidst such feasting the name of Mohammed was given to the new-born infant. The way in which the guests dealt with the enormous dishes, some of which were from four to five feet in diameter, and could only be carried by six persons, bore testimony to the voracity of their appetites; one of these immense dishes was upset, and the whole of the contents spilt in the sand.

But the people were not long left to enjoy their festivity, for just while they were glutting themselves a troop of Kél-hekíkan, the tribe who waged the bloody feud with the Gwanín, passed by, throwing the whole encampment into the utmost confusion. When at length it had again settled down, the festivities proceeded, and Mohammed el ʿAísh, with some of his countrymen from Tawát, rode a race up the slope of the downs towards the tents, firing their guns at the same time; but altogether the exhibition was rather shabby, and some of the men were very poor riders, having probably never been on horseback before, as they were natives of the desert where the camel prevails. The inhabitants of Timbúktu, who possess horses, are continually pestered with the request to lend them to strangers; and, with regard to these animals, a sort of communism prevails in the town; but they are of a very poor description, only the Sheikh himself possessing some good horses, brought from the Gibleh, or Western quarter of the desert.

The Kél-hekíkan formed also a subject of anxiety to us in the evening, and, after a long and tedious consultation, it was decided to send some people to watch the movements of those freebooters. Having been met with, they declared they should feel satisfied if the Sheikh would consent to deliver up to them the person who had first slain one of their companions, for this had been the beginning of the feud with the Gwanín, although the murderer belonged to the Túrmus, and not to that other tribe which had taken up the quarrel. In consequence of these feudal relations I had an interesting conversation with the Sheikh, and Fandaghúmme, one of the chiefs of the Tademékket who had likewise come to join this festival, about the “fedʿa,” or the price of blood, many of the Tawárek tribes refusing to accept any fedʿa, but peremptorily requiring bloodshed. I have already mentioned these freebooters, the Kél-hekíkan, on a former occasion; and it is remarkable, that this very tribe, which at present is most distinguished by its lawless and sanguinary habits, and which in consequence of the almost uninterrupted state of warfare in which they are engaged, was at the time reduced to about forty full-grown men, exhibits the finest specimens of manly vigour and stately appearance which are to be found in this whole region.

Notwithstanding the importance which the day possessed for my protector, the stay in the camp, deprived as I was of books or any other source of amusement, and of even the smallest European comfort, became more and more tedious to me. My material privations also were not few, especially as I had not even taken coffee with me this time, so that I had nothing to refresh myself with in the early part of the morning. However, I tried to pass my time as cheerfully as possible, and took some interest in the appearance of a man who had likewise come out to enjoy the hospitality of the Sheikh. This was the sheríf Múláy Isay, who, on account of his white skin, was almost suspected by the natives to be of European origin. In the course of the day the Sheikh showed me some rich gold trinkets belonging to his wife, manufactured in Waláta; and this was almost the only time that I had an opportunity of inspecting these gold ornaments. They formed a sort of diadem: and I understood my host to say that he wanted to have a similar one made for Queen Victoria, which, however poor in itself, I assured him would be valued by the English as a specimen of their native industry.

The stay in this place became the more disagreeable, as a high wind raised thick clouds of dust, and the leathern tent, in which Fandaghúmme was staying, was blown down, and I was therefore rather glad when, in the evening of the 13th, we returned into the town. Here, again, the news of the arrival of the “tábu” was a second time reported, and everybody again thrown into a state of excitement; the Ergágeda, a tribe of Arabs or Moors, moving to and fro, while all the poor degraded tribes in the neighbourhood, together with their herds of cattle and their flocks of sheep, fled again for refuge to the encampment of the Sheikh, such as the Kél e’ Sheríʿa, the Kél-antsár, the Ídenán, and the Kél- úlli. My protector himself was again to return to the tents on the morning of the 15th, when a serious business arose, the Fullán insisting with great pertinacity that I should leave the town this day, or else they would certainly kill me; for they would rather, they said, that the “tábu” should annihilate them all, than that I should remain a day longer in the town.

Next morning the Fullán and the merchants from the north assembled in the house of Mohammed el Férreji, and discussed with great energy what means they should adopt to drive me out, binding themselves by an oath that I should not see the sun set over the town. The officer Hámedu, the son of Mohammed Lebbo, even went so far as to rise in the assembly and swear that he himself would certainly slay me if I should stay any longer. The alarm which this affair caused in the town was very great, although matters of this kind in Negroland are never so serious as in Europe. Álawáte, therefore, being informed of what was going on, entered the assembly and made a formal protest that I should see both sunset and sunrise in the town, but he pledged his word that I should leave it before the sun reached that height called dáhhar (about nine o’clock in the morning) by the Arabs, and if I remained after that time they might do what they pleased with me.

[Sidenote: March 17th.]

I had lain down rather late, and was still asleep, when Sídi Mohammed, before sunrise, sent word to me to mount in order to follow him out of the town; and he behaved very unpolitely when objections were raised to the effect that it would be better to wait for El Bakáy. Soon after he came up himself on horseback before my door, sending one of his brother’s principal and confidential pupils, whom I could scarcely expect to do anything contrary to the wishes of his master, to bid me mount without further delay, and to follow him to the “ródha,” or the sepulchre of Sídi Mukhtár, where El Bakáy would join us. Seeing that I had nothing to say, while as a stranger I could neither expect nor desire these people to fight on my account, I mounted, fully armed, and with two servants on horseback followed Sídi Mohammed on his white mare.

All the people, in the streets through which we passed, cautiously opened their doors to have a peep at me. The ruling tribe also were not inactive; and they had mounted several horsemen, who followed close upon our heels, and would probably have made a demonstration if we had halted at the “ródha.” But my conductor, instead of staying there, as I had been made to believe, led on straight to the tents. Numbers of Tawárek families, carrying their little property on half-starved asses, met us on the road, flying westward, and confirming the fact that the approach of the tábu was not merely an idle rumour. The encampment also, which had been chosen at another spot, presented a very animated scene, a large hamlet, consisting of matting dwellings, or seníha, inhabited by the Kél-úlli and the Ígelád, protégés of the Sheikh, being closely attached to it. The consequence was, that although the whole locality, formed by a sandy ridge with a slight depression full of trees, presented a more cheerful aspect than the former encampment, by degrees it became rather narrow and confined. Having received the compliments of my new friends, I endeavoured to make myself as comfortable as possible; but not much repose was granted me, for, about three o’clock in the afternoon, Mohammed ben Khottár, the Sheikh’s nephew, arrived with a verbal and peremptory message from the former to his elder brother, Sídi Mohammed, to the effect that the Fullán were about to storm my house in the town, in order to seize my luggage which I had left there; and desiring him instantly, and without the slightest delay, to bring me back, as all these proceedings were the consequence of his (Sídi Mohammed’s) indiscretion.

Roused by this angry message, the noble son of the desert repented what he had done to the detriment of his brother’s interest, and calling together by strokes of the tobl, or great drum, which hung ready on the top of the sandy slope, all the people capable of carrying arms, he mounted his mare, with his four-barreled gun before him, while I, with my two servants, followed behind.

Thus it appeared as if I was destined once more to enter Timbúktu, and this time under very warlike circumstances. We went at the beginning at such a rate, that it seemed as if we were about to storm the place directly; but on reaching the first creek of the river we made a short halt, while my Mohammedan friends said their prayers, and at last came to a stand on an eminence, whence we sent a messenger in advance. Sídi Álawáte came out of the town to meet us. Meanwhile darkness set in, and we again halted on another eminence in sight of the town, and sent a second messenger to the Sheikh. We were joined after a while by the people from Tawát, who informed us that El Bakáy had left the town with a numerous host of followers, but that they themselves did not know whither he was gone. Messengers were therefore despatched to endeavour to find him.

In the meanwhile the Tawárek whom we had with us, beat their shields in their usual furious manner, and raised the war-cry; the night was very dark, and I at length fired a shot, which informed our friends of our whereabouts. We found the Sheikh close to the town south of the “ródha,” with a large host of people, Tawárek as well as Arabs, Songhay, and even Fullán. The Fútáwi, Ismʿaíl, who from his knowledge of colonial life in St. Louis or Ndér, afforded me a constant source of entertainment as well as vexation, welcomed us with a song, and all the people gathered around us in motley confusion. The spectacle formed by this multifarious host, thronging among the sand-hills in the pale moonlight, was highly interesting, and would have been more so to me, if I could have been a tranquil observer of the scene; but, as I was the chief cause of this disturbance, several of my friends, especially the Imám, Háj el Mukhtár, whom I had known in Bornú, made their way to me, and begged me to beware of treachery. The Sheikh himself despatched his most trustworthy servant to inform me that I had better keep in the midst of the Tawárek, whom he himself thought much more trustworthy than the Arabs. The Kél-úlli forthwith formed a square round me, but at the same time made a joke of it, trying an experiment as to the warlike disposition of my horse, by pushing against me with one side of the square, while beating their shields, till, being thrown back upon the other side, I spurred my horse and drove them to their former position. Excited by this animated scene, my noble charger, to the great amusement of this turbulent host, began to neigh from sheer delight.

Meanwhile the brothers had dismounted, together with their trusty councillors, and were wasting the time in useless consultation, while some Fullán horsemen were roving about and kept me on my guard; but one of them was dismounted against his inclination. His horse received a wound either from the stump of a tree or from a spear, and thus he remained the sole victim of this glorious and memorable night’s campaign.

At length, having moved to and fro for some time, we approached the outskirts of the Áberaz, and there took up our position. But the Fullán and Songhay, who had likewise assembled at the beating of the alarm drum, being arranged in front of us, notwithstanding their cowardly disposition, it did not seem likely that we should be allowed to get inside the town without bloodshed, and I protested repeatedly to the Sheikh, that nothing was more repugnant to my feelings, than that blood should be shed on my account, and perhaps his own life be endangered.

Meanwhile numerous messengers were sent backwards and forwards, till my protector and host, whose feelings had been deeply wounded, declared that he would allow me to remain outside the town, if the Fullán would withdraw their force so as to put every thing in his own hands, and would promise to leave my house untouched. And he strictly kept his word; for, while he himself entered the place with Álawáte, he allowed me to return to the tents in the company of his elder brother. We did not arrive at the encampment before three o’clock in the morning, for we lost our road in the pale moonlight, and became entangled among the numerous creeks of Bose-bángo, while we suffered at the same time greatly from hunger, and the coolness of the night. Such was the sole result of this night’s campaign.

The following day we received the news from an Urághen, who arrived from the east, of the tábu having returned eastward, in consequence of a serious quarrel having broken out between the tribes of the Tarabanása and the Tin-ger-égedesh, who composed part of the army; and in consequence of the obstinacy of Ákhbi, the chief of the Igwádaren, who had refused to acknowledge the authority of his liege lord, and to come forth from his place of retreat, the island of Kúrkozáy, in order to do homage to Alkúttabu. The ruling tribe of the Awelímmeden gave vent to their anger by plundering the poor inhabitants of Bamba, or Kasbah, a place situated about half-way between here and Gógó. That dreaded host having retraced its steps, and thus disappointed the hopes of my protector, all the poor people who had put themselves under the protection of the Sheikh felt reassured, and again brought out their little property, which they had secreted in the various tents of the encampment. The Ígelád lagged a little longer behind, and in the evening assembled in considerable numbers before my tent in order to have a talk with me. On the whole they behaved very decently.

Seeing that I was now restricted to a stay in the encampment, I had sent my servant, the Gatróni, into the town in order to bring out my luggage. He returned in the evening without having accomplished his errand, but in the company of the Sheikh himself, who informed me that he did not wish the luggage to be brought out of the town before he was ready to accompany me himself on my journey, as he was afraid that his two brothers still wanted to get something more out of me than they had done. But as he had sworn in the first paroxysm of anger that he would at all hazards bring me back into the town, I told him, in order to console him, that I would once more re-enter the place in the dark, quite by myself, stay a short time in my house, and then return to the camp, in order that his oath might be fulfilled. But he would not allow me to expose myself to any danger on his account, as the rules of his creed made it easy for him to get rid of the obligation thus contracted against his conscience, by subjecting himself to the penance of a three days’ fast. He informed me now that the Fullán officer, Férreji, had accompanied him on leaving the town as far as the “ródha,” giving him every assurance of his friendship, and that thus everything would end well; and he hoped to obtain for me favourable conditions from the Fullán for any future European or Englishman visiting this place. Together with the Sheikh, Sídi Álawáte also had come out, and he behaved in a rather friendly manner to me, offering his services towards hastening my departure, which I gladly accepted, without however putting any confidence in him; for I was well aware that he liked my property better than myself.

Seeing that I was obliged to resign myself in patience, and had still to wait here some time, I sent one servant and two of my horses into the town. Since the waters had retired, the flies had become such a terrible plague, that they threatened the life of man and beast, and it was chiefly this nuisance that rendered my stay here so uncomfortable. It was likewise almost the ruin of the horse, which I was obliged to keep with me in case of any emergency. It is on account of this pest that none of the people of the desert, whose chief property consists in camels, are enabled to visit the town at this period of the year.

Not only flies, but other species of insects also, became now exceedingly abundant in this desert tract, after it had been inundated and fertilised by the waters of the river; and a countless number of caterpillars especially became very troublesome, creeping about the ground, and getting upon the carpets and mats and every other article. While thus the inconvenience of the open camp was manifold, my amusements were rather limited, and even my food was poorer than it had been before. The famous “rejíre” had been supplanted, from want of cheese, by the less tasteful “dakno,” seasoned, in the absence of honey, with the fruit of the baobab or monkey-bread tree. In the morning, however, it afforded me some amusement to observe the daughters of the Ígelád driving out to the pasture grounds their parents’ asses, and to witness the various incidents in the daily life of these people. But they were soon to leave, as well as the Kél-úlli, both tribes returning to their quarters further eastward.

All my friends, with whom I had had only so short an acquaintance, thus taking leave of me, I was extremely glad when a brother of Mohammed ben ʿAbd-Alláhi came out of the town and paid me a visit. It was from this man, whose name was Dáúd, that I obtained a great deal of important information with respect to the quarter north of the river, between Hamda-Alláhi and Bághena. I also met here another person, who gave me a curious piece of information with regard to the Rás el Má, the great north-westerly creek of the river, which I have already mentioned repeatedly, and of which I shall say more in the Appendix[23], although I was not enabled to understand its whole purport. In reference to that basin, he said, that, when the waters had decreased very considerably, a bubbling was observed at the bottom of the basin; but whether this referred to sources of living water, or to some other phenomenon, I could not make out distinctly, although I imagine the former to be the case.

[Sidenote: March 21st.]

This was a very important day in various respects. First, it was highly remarkable for its atmospheric character, as beginning the “nisán,” that is to say, the short rainy season of spring. This peculiar season I had not observed in the other more southerly parts of Negroland which I had visited, but it is also observed in other tropical regions, especially in Bengal, although that country is certainly placed under different conditions, and reaches farther northward. We had two regular falls of rain this day, although of no great abundance, this phenomenon being repeated for about seven days, though not in succession. Meanwhile the flies became quite insupportable, and almost drove me to despair.

But the day was also important in another respect, as the sons of Sídi Mohammed, El Bakáy, and his brothers, attempted to bring about a friendly understanding among themselves; and I was not a little surprised in the morning of this day, on being informed by Sídi Mohammed, who acted as my guard here, that I was to accompany him back to the “ródha,” the venerated cemetery a few hundred yards east of the town, where Sídi Mukhtár lies buried; for it thus seemed as if there was still some prospect of my again coming into collision with the townspeople. Galloping on the road with Dáúd, the brother of ʿAbd- Alláhi, who accompanied us, and beating him easily on my fine “Blast of the Desert,” as I styled my horse, which was still in tolerable condition, I followed my companion, and we took our post at the southern side of the tomb of the ancestor of the holy family. Although I had passed it repeatedly on former occasions, I never until now inspected it closely. I found it a spacious clay apartment, surrounded by several smaller tombs of people who were desirous of placing themselves under the protection of the spirit of this holy man, even in the other world.

Gradually we were joined by the relations and friends of the Sheikh, Álawáte appearing first and saluting me in his usual smiling manner; then the sickly Mohammed ben ʿAbd-Alláhi, who was regarded almost as a member of the family; next followed Hammádi, who greeted me and received my compliments in return; then the Sheikh el Bakáy; and, lastly, ʿAbidín, whom I had not seen before. He looked rather older than the Sheikh, with expressive sharply cut and manly features, besides a rather fair complexion, fairer than my host. He was clad in a bernús of violet colour, and it appeared remarkable to me that, although I had placed myself exclusively under the protection of his brother, to whom he as well as Hammádi was vehemently opposed, yet he behaved very friendly towards me.

All the parties having assembled, we were regaled with a luncheon, at which I was the first to be helped. The people then having said their prayers of “ʿaser,” while I retired behind the sepulchre, in order not to give any offence, we went to a greater distance from the town, in an easterly direction, in order to get out of the way of the people who had come from the town on this occasion, when the various members of the family of Mukhtár sat down upon the ground in a circle, and began a serious private consultation, in order to settle their political affairs; but, although it lasted for more than an hour, it did not seem to lead to the desired end, and broke up abruptly. The Sheikh had endeavoured to persuade me to pass this night in the Áberaz, or the suburb of the town; but this I had refused to do, being afraid of causing another disturbance, and, as he promised that he would come out of the town with my luggage on the Friday following, I returned with Sídi-Mohammed to the tents.

Honourably as I was treated on these different occasions in consequence of the great exertions of my protector, yet the Fullán had obtained, throughout the whole affair, a slight advantage in political superiority, and they followed it up without hesitation and delay, by levying a tax of 2000 shells upon each full-grown person, under the pretext that they did not say their Friday prayers in the great mosque as they were ordered to do. This is one of the means by which the conquering tribe was endeavouring to subdue the national spirit of the native population, by making them celebrate the great weekly prayer in the mosque which had originally been built by the Mandingo conqueror Mansa Músa, and which they themselves had made the centre of their establishment in the town. Even in previous times it had always been the centre of the Mohammedan quarter. They were supported in this endeavour by the precepts of Islám, according to which a Moslim, even if he says his ordinary prayers at home, is obliged, when staying in the town and not prevented by disease, to say his Friday prayers in the Jámʿa.

When the Fullán conquered the place, they purposely increased the ruin of the old native mosque of Sán-koré, which is situated in the northern quarter, and afterwards prevented its being repaired, till by the exertions of the Sheikh El Bakáy, especially on his visit to Hamda- Alláhi some years previously, the inhabitants of the town had been allowed to repair that mosque at their own expense. This had been accomplished at the cost of 600 blocks or rús of salt, equal to about 200_l._

Besides levying this tax upon the inhabitants in general, they also devised means to subject to a particular punishment the Arab part of the population who had especially countenanced the Sheikh in his opposition against their order to drive me out, by making a domiciliary search through their huts, and taking away some sixty or eighty bales or sunníye of tobacco, an article which, as I have stated on a former occasion, forms a religious and political contraband under the severe and austere rule of the Fúlbe in this quarter.

[Sidenote: March 24th.]

This was the day on which the Sheikh had promised to bring out my luggage, but, to my great disappointment, he came empty-handed; and again he had much to say about the expected arrival of Alkúttabu, the chief Somki, it was stated, having been called from Áribínda to meet his liege lord at Ghérgo (pronounced Rérgo) with fifteen boats. But, as the sequel showed, this was a mere stratagem of that crafty chief, who intended to make an unexpected foray upon his foes the Kél-hekíkan, in which enterprise he was perfectly successful, killing about a dozen of that already greatly reduced tribe. While the Sheikh boasted of the innumerable host which his friend the Tárki chief carried with him, I was greatly amused at learning from an Urághen, who had come to pay us a visit, that Alkúttabu had only 300 fighting men with him at the time. I also observed with a certain degree of satisfaction that my kindly host became aware of what I was subjected to day by day; for, while on a visit to my tent, one of the flies that tormented me stung him so severely as to draw blood; and I then showed him my poor horse which was suffering dreadfully, although at times we lighted a small fire in order to afford him some relief.

During my stay here, I had become better acquainted with Sídi Mohammed, and I had convinced myself that he was a straightforward man, although certainly not very friendly disposed towards Christians in general. Next morning, therefore, when he and the Sheikh were consulting together, I complained bitterly of their breaking their word so repeatedly, and putting off my departure so continually. They then endeavoured to soothe my disappointment, and, as they were going into the town, wanted me to go along with them, but I declined. In consequence of this remonstrance, they sent me from the town the Sheikh’s nephew, who had been ill for several days, to bear me company and to take care of me, and this was a great treat in my solitary situation, as I had nobody to speak to. However, new difficulties appeared to arise with regard to my departure, and, during the next few days, I received several curious messages, the real purport of which I was quite at a loss to understand. But El Bakáy at length promised that I should only have to wait two days longer, when he would go with me himself; but it was not till the very last day in March that he returned from the town to the camp, and, although he at length brought my luggage with him, my real departure was even then still far remote.

During this time I had especially to contend against the intrigues of my head man ʿAlí el Ágeren, who seemed to find the stay in Timbúktu at my expense (where he himself was quite safe and well off, and could do what he liked,) quite pleasant and comfortable. He was therefore in no hurry to leave, but rather tried every means in his power to counteract my endeavours for a speedy departure. An extraordinary degree of patience was therefore necessary on my part, and I was obliged to seek relief from the tediousness of my stay here in every little circumstance that broke the uniform tenor of my monotonous life.

A great source of entertainment to me were the young sons of my protector, Bábá Áhmed and Zén el ʿAbidín, who were continually wrangling about all sorts of articles, whether they belonged to the one or the other; my tent and my horse forming the chief objects of their childish dispute. And I was greatly amused, at times, at the younger boy placing himself at the entrance of my tent, and protesting that it was Zén el ʿAbidín’s tent, and preventing his elder brother from approaching it. The plate opposite gives a fair idea of the whole life of this desert camp, with its liberty, its cheerfulness, and its tediousness.

Our camp also afforded me at times some other amusement; for although the Tawárek had returned to their usual seats, the Gwanín were still kept back here by their fear of the Kél-hekíkan, and they occasionally got up a national play, which caused a little diversion. But I did not like these people nearly so well as the wild Ímóshagh; for, having become degraded by being subjected to the caprices of stronger tribes, they have almost entirely lost that independent spirit which is so prepossessing in the son of the desert, even though he be the greatest ruffian.

One afternoon they collected round my tent and began boasting of what they had done for me. They told me that the Fullán had written to their Sheikh, Weled ʿAbéda, accusing the Gwanín that, in the night when El Bakáy was bringing me back to Timbúktu, they had been fighting against them, and, among other mischief, had killed a horse belonging to them; and that their chief had answered, that his people had done well in defending me, and that nobody should hurt me after I had once succeeded in placing myself under the Sheikh’s protection. And this, be it remembered, was the self-same chief who had murdered Major Laing; and one or the other of these very Gwanín, with whom I had dealings every day, were perhaps implicated in that very murder. I was thus led to inquire of these people whether there were no papers remaining of that unfortunate traveller, and was told that they were all scattered or made away with; but I learned, to my great surprise, that there were letters for myself in Ázawád, which had arrived from the east; and although these people were not able, or did not feel inclined, to give me full information about this matter, which was of so much interest to myself, the fact proved afterwards to be quite true; but it was a long time before I got possession of those letters.

Nature now looked more cheerful; and, after the little rain that had fallen, spring seemed to have set in a second time, and the trees were putting forth young leaves. The river having now laid bare a considerable tract of grassy ground, the cattle again found their wonted pasture of rich nourishing “býrgu” on its banks, and were thus able to furnish their masters with a richer supply of milk. This was a great point towards hastening my departure, as the télamíd (or pupils of the Sheikh) had reason to expect that they would not be starved on the road. The fact that the tribes which we had to pass on our road eastward were entirely without milk, which forms their chief support, had exercised some influence upon them.

Meanwhile the turbulent state of the country grew worse and worse, since the Awelímmiden had shown such signs of weakness; and the Tin-ger- égedesh were said to have fallen upon the tribe of the Takétakayen settled in Áribínda, and to have killed six of their number. The chief, Somki, also made at the same time a sanguinary attack upon the Kél- hekíkan; and the state of feud and hostility among the Igwádaren had reached an extraordinary height, for besides the common animosity which this tribe had displayed against their former liege lord, Alkúttabu, two different factions were opposed to each other in the most bloody feud, one of them being led by Ákhbi and Wóghdugu, and the other by Téni, to whom were attached the greater part of the Tarabanása and the Kél- hekíkan.

This chief, Téni, rendered himself particularly odious to the Sheikh’s party by keeping back a considerable amount of property belonging to the Gwanín, among which were a dozen slaves, more than fifty asses, and three hundred and sixty sheep. A very noisy assembly was held, in the evening of the 1st of April, inside my “zeríba,” or fence of thorny bushes with which I had fortified my little encampment, in front of my tent. All the Gwanín assembled round my fire, and proposed various measures for arranging their affairs and for subduing the obstinate old Téni. One speaker was particularly distinguished by the cleverness of his address and his droll expressions, although I thought the latter rather too funny for a serious consultation. However, this man was not a Berbúshi, but an Ído ʿAlí, and therefore could not present a fair specimen of the capabilities of this tribe.

This same chief, Téni, was also the cause of some anxiety to myself, as it was he who, as I have stated on a former occasion, when a young man, was wounded in the leg by Mungo Park; and I was therefore rather afraid that he might take an opportunity of revenging himself upon me. There is no doubt that, in the murderous assault upon Major Laing in Wádi Ahénnet, the Tawárek were partly instigated by a feeling of revenge for the heavy loss inflicted upon them by Mungo Park in his voyage down the Niger. At this very moment the dreaded chief, with part of his people, was here in the neighbourhood, and caused great anxiety to Míni, a younger brother of Wóghdugu, one of the chiefs of the Tarabanása, who had come on a visit to the Sheikh. Our frightened friend, in consequence, was rambling about the whole day on the fine black horse which my host had made me a present of, in order to spy out the movements of his enemy. He even wanted me to exchange my horse for two camels, in order that he might make his escape.

This man, who was an amiable and intelligent sort of person, gave me a fair specimen of what trouble I should have in making my way through those numerous tribes of Tawárek along the river; for, when he begged a present from me, I thought a common blue shirt, or “rishába,” of which kind I had prepared about a dozen, quite sufficient for him, as I had had no dealings whatever with him, and was under no obligation to him; but he returned it to me with the greatest contempt, as unworthy of his dignity.

My supplies at this time were greatly reduced, and in order to obtain a small amount of shells I was obliged to sell a broken musket belonging to me.

Under all these circumstances I was extremely glad when, in the evening of the 3rd of April, the provision bags of the Sheikh, of which I was assured the half was destined for my own use, were brought out of the town. But, nevertheless, the final arrangements for my departure were by no means settled, and the following day everything seemed again more uncertain than ever, the kádhi, Weled Fʿaámme, having arrived with another body of sixty armed men, and with fresh orders to levy contributions of money upon the inhabitants, in order to make them feel the superiority of the ruler of Hamda-Alláhi. At the same time the people from Tawát set all sorts of intrigues afoot, in order to prevent the Sheikh from leaving the town, being afraid that in his absence they should be exposed to continual vexation on the part of the ruling tribe; for although the Sheikho Áhmedu, in sending presents to Timbúktu, had not neglected El Bakáy, yet he had shown his preference for Hammádi, the rival of the latter, in so decided a manner, that my friend could not expect that in leaving the town his interests would be respected[24]; and I had to employ the whole of my influence with the Sheikh in order to prevent him from changing his plan.

But, gradually, everything that my host was to take with him on such a journey, consisting of books and provisions, was brought from the town, so that it really looked as if El Bakáy was to go himself. His horses had been brought from Kábara on the 9th, and several people, who were to accompany us on our journey eastward, having joined us the following day, the Sheikh himself arrived on the 11th, and our encampment became full of bustle. My own little camping-ground also was now enlivened with all my people, who had come to join me; and my small store of books, which had been brought from the town, enabled me to give more variety to my entertainment.

A rather disagreeable incident now occurred. The Zoghorán officer, the companion of Férreji, had come out on some errand, while I was staying with the three brothers in the large tent, which had been erected for Sídi Mohammed. I wanted to leave, but Bakáy begged me to stay. I therefore remained a short time, but became so disgusted with the insulting language of the Zoghorán, that I soon left abruptly, although his remarks had more direct reference to the French, or, rather, the French and half-caste traders on the Senegal, than to the English or any other European nation. He spoke of the Christians in the most contemptuous manner, describing them as sitting like women in the bottom of their steamboats, and doing nothing but eating raw eggs: concluding with the paradoxical statement, which is not very flattering to Europeans, that the idolatrous Bámbara were far better people, and much farther advanced in civilisation than the Christians. It is singular how the idea that the Europeans are fond of raw eggs (a most disgusting article to a Mahommedan), as already proved by the experience of Mungo Park, has spread over the whole of Negroland, and it can only be partially explained by the great predilection which the French have for boiled eggs.

Altogether my situation required an extraordinary amount of forbearance, for Álawáte also troubled me again with his begging propensities. But when he came himself to take leave of me, I told him that the time for presents was now past; whereupon he said, that he was aware that if I wanted to give I gave, meaning that it was only the want of goodwill that made me not comply with his wish. I assured him that I had given him a great many presents against my own inclination. He owned that he had driven a rather hard bargain with me, but, when he wanted me to acknowledge at least that he had done me no personal harm, I told him that the reason was rather his want of power than his want of inclination, and that, although I had nothing to object to him in other respects, I should not like to trust myself in his hands alone in the wilderness.

The difficulties which a place like Timbúktu presents to a free commercial intercourse with Europeans are very great. For while the remarkable situation of the town, at the edge of the desert and on the border of various races, in the present degenerated condition of the native kingdoms makes a strong government very difficult, nay almost impossible, its distance from either the west coast or the mouth of the Niger is very considerable. But, on the other hand, the great importance of its situation at the northern curve or elbow of that majestic river, which, in an immense sweep encompasses the whole southern half of North- Central Africa, including countries densely populated and of the greatest productive capabilities, renders it most desirable to open it to European commerce, while the river itself affords immense facilities for such a purpose. For, although the town is nearer to the French settlements in Algeria on the one side, and those on the Senegal on the other, yet it is separated from the former by a tract of frightful desert, while between it and the Senegal lies an elevated tract of country, nay, along the nearest road, a mountain chain extends of tolerable height. Further, we have here a family which, long before the French commenced their conquest of Algeria, exhibited their friendly feelings toward the English in an unquestionable manner, and at the present moment the most distinguished member of this family is most anxious to open free intercourse with the English. Even in the event of the greatest success of the French policy in Africa, they will never effect the conquest of this region. On the other hand, if a liberal government were secured to Timbúktu, by establishing a ruler independent of the Fúlbe of Hamda-Alláhi, who are strongly opposed to all intercourse with Europeans, whether French or English, an immense field might be opened to European commerce, and thus the whole of this part of the world might again be subjected to a wholesome organization. The sequel of my narrative will show how, under the protection of the Sheikh El Bakáy, I endeavoured to open the track along the Niger.

[Footnote 23: Appendix I., which contains all that I know about the western half of the desert between Timbúktu and the Atlantic.]

[Footnote 24: The present sent by the Sheikho Áhmedu consisted of 800 measures of corn to El Bakáy, and as much to Hammádi, besides ten slaves to the latter.]

CHAP. LXXIII.

ABORTIVE ATTEMPT AT DEPARTURE FROM TIMBÚKTU.

I had been obliged to leave the town on the 17th of March, in consequence of the brothers of the Sheikh having deemed such a step essential for the security of the town, and advantageous to their own personal interest. Since that time my departure had been earnestly discussed almost daily, but nevertheless, amidst infinite delays and procrastinations, the 19th of April had arrived before we at length set out from our encampment, situated at the head of the remarkable and highly indented creek of Bóse-bángo.

Notwithstanding the importance of the day, my excellent friend the Sheikh El Bakáy could not even then overcome his habitual custom of taking matters easy. He slept till a late hour in the morning, while his pupils were disputing with the owners of the camels which had been hired for the journey, and who would not stir. At length my friend got up, and our sluggish caravan left the encampment. There were, besides our own camels, a good many asses belonging to the Gwanín, and laden with cotton strips. It was past eleven o’clock, and the sun had already become very troublesome, when we left the camp. The chief was so extremely fond of his wife and children, that it was an affair of some importance to take leave of them. I myself had become sincerely attached to his little boys, especially the youngest one, Zén el ʿAbidín, who, I am led to hope, will remember his friend ʿAbd el Kerím. But, notwithstanding my discontent at my protector’s want of energy, I could not be angry with him; and when he asked me whether he had now deceived me, or kept his word, I could not but praise his conduct, although I told him that I must first see the end of it. He smiled, and turning to his companion the old Haiballah (Habíb Allah), who had come from Ázawád to spend some time in his company, asked him whether I was not too mistrustful; but the event unluckily proved that I was not.

The vegetation in the neighbourhood of Bóse-bángo is extremely rich; but as we advanced gradually the trees ceased, with the exception of the kálgo, the bush so often mentioned by me in Háusa, and which here begins to be very common. I was greatly disappointed in my expectation of making a good day’s march, for, after proceeding a little more than three miles, I saw my tent, which had gone in advance, pitched in the neighbourhood of an encampment of Arabs belonging to the tribe of the Ergágeda. Here we stayed the remainder of the day, enjoying the hospitality of these people, who had to pay dearly for the honour of such a visit; for the pupils of my friend, who had capital appetites, required a great deal of substantial nourishment to satisfy their cravings; and besides a dozen dishes of rice, and a great quantity of milk, two oxen had to be slaughtered by our hosts. These Arabs, who formed here an encampment of about twenty-five spacious tents, made of sheepskins or fárrwel, have no camels, and possess only a few cows, their principal herds being sheep and goats, besides a large number of asses. They have been settled in this district, near the river, since the time when Sídi Mukhtár, the elder brother of El Bakáy, established himself in Timbúktu, that is to say, in the year 1832.

Although I should have liked much better to have made at once a fair start on our journey, I was glad that we had at least set out at all, and, lying down in the shade of a small kálgo tree, I indulged in the hope that in a period of from forty to fifty days I might reach Sókoto; but I had no idea of the unfavourable circumstances which were gathering to frustrate my hopes.

The whole of this district is richly clothed with siwák, or ʿirák (Capparis sodata), and is greatly infested with lions, for which reason we were obliged to surround our camping-ground with a thick fence, or zeríba; and the encampment of the Sheikh, for whom an immense leathern tent had been pitched, with his companions, horses, and camels, together with the large fires, presented a very imposing appearance. I was told that the lion hereabouts has no mane, or at least a very small one, like the lion of Ásben.

[Sidenote: Thursday, April 20th.]

The first part of this day’s march led through a flat country, which some time before had been entirely inundated. Even at present, not only on the south side of the path, towards the river, were extensive inundations to be seen, but on the left, or north side, a large open sheet spread out. Having passed numbers of Tawárek, who were shifting their tents, as well as two miserable-looking encampments of the Shémman-Ámmas, whose movements afforded some proofs of the disturbed state of the country, we ascended the higher sandy bank, where I first observed the poisonous euphorbia, called here “abári e’ sebúwa,” or “táboru,” which generally grows in the shade of the trees, especially in that of acacias, and is said frequently to cause the death of the lion, from which circumstance its name is derived. Pursuing our easterly course, and keeping along the sandy bank, with a deep marshy ground on our right, we then reached a group of two encampments, one belonging to the Ídenan, and the other to the Shémman-Ámmas, and here halted during the hot hours of the day. Both the above-mentioned tribes are of a degraded character; and the women were anything but decent and respectable in their behaviour.

Having here decided that it was better to go ourselves and fetch the rest of our party whom we had sent in advance from Bóse-bángo, instead of despatching a messenger for them, although the place lay entirely out of our route, we started late in the afternoon, leaving our camels and baggage behind. Returning for the first mile and a half, almost along the same road we had come, then passing the site of a former encampment of the two chiefs named Mushtába and Rummán, whom I have mentioned before, we entered the swampy ground to the south along a narrow neck of land thickly overgrown with dúm-palms and brushwood, and thus affording a secure retreat to the lion. In the clear light of the evening, encompassed as the scenery was on either side, by high sandy downs towards the south on the side of the river, and by a green grassy ground with a channel-like sheet of water on the other it exhibited a very interesting spectacle highly characteristic of this peculiar watery region.

Having kept along this neck of land, which is called Temáharót, for about two miles, and reached its terminating point, we had to cross a part of the swamp itself which separates this rising ground from the downs on the bank of the river, and which less than a month previously had been impassable, while at present the sheet of water was interrupted, and was only from three to three and a half feet in depth at the deepest part. We then reached the downs, and here again turned westward, having the low swampy ground on our right, and an open branch of the river on our left.

This whole tract of country is of a very peculiar character, and presents a very different spectacle at various seasons of the year. During the highest state of the inundation, only the loftiest downs rise above the surface of the water like separate islands, and are only accessible by boats during the summer; while the low swampy grounds, laid bare and fertilised by the retiring waters, afford excellent pastures to innumerable herds of cattle. Even at present, while the sun was setting, the whole tract through which we were proceeding along the downs was enveloped in dense clouds of dust, raised by the numerous herds of the Kél-n-Nokúnder, who were returning to their encampment. Here we were most joyfully received by the followers of the Sheikh, who had been waiting already several days for us, and I received especially a most cordial welcome from my young friend Mohammed ben Khottár, the Sheikh’s nephew, whom I esteemed greatly on account of his intelligent and chivalrous character. He informed me how anxious they had been on my account, owing to our continued delay. Having brought no tent with me, a large leathern one was pitched, and I was hospitably treated with milk and rice.

The Kél-n-Nokúnder are a division of the numerous tribe of the Ídenán, and although in a political respect they do not enjoy the privileges of full liberty and nobility, yet, protected by the Kunta, and the Sheikh El Bakáy in particular, they have succeeded in retaining possession of a considerable number of cattle. All of them are tolba, that is to say, students; and they are all able to read. Some of them can even write, although the Ídenán cannot now boast of men distinguished for great learning as they could in former times.

All these people who come under the category of tolba, are distinguished by their fair complexion, and do not possess the muscular frame common among the free Ímóshagh. Their fair complexion is the more conspicuous, as the men, with scarcely an exception, wear white shirts and white turbans. All of them took a great interest in me, and looked with extreme curiosity upon the few European articles which I had with me at the time. After some little delay the next morning we left the place, and at that time I little fancied that I was soon to visit this spot again. It is called Ernésse, or Núkkaba el kebíra, the great (sandy) down.

Having this time excellent guides with us who knew the difficult ground thoroughly, after leaving the sandy downs, we struck right across the swampy meadow grounds, so that we reached our encampment on the other side of Amalélle in a much shorter time than on our out journey, while by continual windings we almost entirely avoided the swamps; but, without a good guide, no one can enter these low lands, which constitute a very remarkable feature in the character of the river. One of the Kél- n-Nokúnder, of the name of Ayóba, whom I had occasionally seen in the town, and who was not less distinguished by his loquacity than by his activity, here received a small present from me, as well as some of the Ídenán, who, during my absence, had treated my people hospitably.

Starting in the afternoon, after a march of about eight miles, at first through a low swampy country, afterwards through a sandy wilderness with an undulating surface and with high sandy downs towards the river, we reached an encampment of Kél-úlli, the same people who had repeatedly protected me during my stay in the town, and, on firing a few shots, we were received by our friends with the warlike demonstration of a loud beating of their shields. The hospitable treatment which they exhibited towards us in the course of the evening really filled me with pity on their account, for, having no rice or milk, they slaughtered not less than three oxen and twenty goats, in order to feast our numerous and hungry party, and make a holiday for themselves. Thus, having arrived after sunset, great part of the night was spent in revelling, and the encampment with the many fires, the numbers of people, horses, and beasts of burden, in the midst of the trees, formed a highly interesting scene.

In the course of the evening I received a visit from my protector. I had promised him another handsome present as soon as he should have fairly entered with me upon my home journey, and he now wanted to know what it was. I informed him that it consisted of a pair of richly ornamented pistols, which I had kept expressly for the occasion: but instead of at once taking possession of them, he requested me to keep them for him till another time; for he himself was no doubt fully aware that our journey was not yet fairly begun; and its abortive character became fully apparent the following day, when, after a march of less than seven miles, we encamped near the tents of Téni, or E’ Téni, the first chief of the Tarabanása.

The locality, which is called Téns-aróri, was of so swampy a character that we looked for some time in vain for a tolerably dry spot to pitch our tents, and it had a most unfavourable effect upon my health. Here we remained this and the two following days: and it became evident that as this chief persisted in his disobedience to his liege lord Alkúttabu, the other more powerful chief, Ákhbi, whose mutinous behaviour had been the chief reason of the former not coming to Timbúktu, would certainly follow his example. The fact was, that, irritated against their superior chief, or more probably treating him with contempt on account of his youth and want of energy, after the death of his predecessor, E’ Nábegha, they had fallen upon his mercenaries, especially the Shémman- Ámmas, and deprived them of their whole stock of cattle.

This was the first time that I saw these more easterly Tawárek in their own territory; and I was greatly astonished at their superior bearing in comparison with the Tademékket and Íregenáten, both in their countenance and in their dress. They were also richly ornamented with small metal boxes, made very neatly, and consisting of tin and copper: but it was in vain that I endeavoured to obtain some of them as a curiosity. They wore also a rich profusion of white rings, which are made of the bones of that very remarkable animal the “ayú,” or Manatus, which seems to be not less frequent in the western than in the eastern branch of the Niger. As a token of their nobility and liberty, all of them carried iron spears and swords, the degraded tribes not being allowed to make use of these manly weapons.

The encampment consisted of about thirty leathern tents, of great size; and, besides the Tarabanása, a party of the Kél-hekíkan of Zíllikay were encamped. This was a less favourable circumstance; for, while as yet I had been always on the best footing with these Tawárek, the latter proved rather troublesome: and I got involved in a religious dispute with one of their chiefs named Ayúb, or Sínnefel, against my inclination, which might have done me some harm. On his asking me why we did not pray in the same manner as themselves, I replied that our God did not live in the east, but was everywhere, and that therefore we had no occasion to offer up our prayers in that direction. This answer appeared to satisfy him: but he affected to be horrified when he heard that we did not practise circumcision, and endeavoured to excite the fanatical zeal of the whole camp against me. I, however, succeeded in partly effacing the bad impression thus caused, by making use of a Biblical expression, and observing that we circumcised our hearts, and not any other part of our body, having expressly abolished that rite, as it appeared to us to be an emblem of the Jewish creed.

I also told them that if they thought that circumcision was a privilege and an emblem of Islám, they were greatly mistaken, as many of the pagan tribes around them, whom they treated with so much contempt, practised this rite. This latter observation especially made a great impression upon them; and they did not fail to remark that I always knew how to parry any attack made against my creed. But, in other respects, I was very cautious in avoiding any dispute, and I was extremely lucky in not having anything to do with an arrogant relative of the Sheikh, of the name of ʿAbd e’ Rahmán Weled Síd, who had lately come from Ázawád to stay some time with his uncle, and obtain from him some present.

With the small presents which I made to each of the Tarabanása, I got on very well with them; but as for their women, who, as was always the case at these encampments, came in the evening to have a look at me, and, if possible, to obtain a small present, I left them without the least acknowledgment. Among the whole tribe I did not observe one distinguished in any manner by her beauty or becoming manners.

The chief behaved so inhospitably that my companions were almost starved to death, and I had to treat several of them; but, in acknowledgment, I received some useful information.[25]

[Sidenote: Tuesday, April 25th.]

At length we left this uncomfortable and unhealthy camping-ground, and had some difficulty in turning round the swamp which is here formed, and further on in traversing a dense forest which almost precluded any progress. Having then passed along a rising sandy ground, we had again to cross a most difficult swampy tract, overgrown with dense forest, which at times obliged us to ascend the high sandy downs that bordered the great river on our right, and afforded a splendid view over the surrounding scenery.

Gradually we emerged from the dense forest upon the green border of a backwater which stretched out behind the sandy downs, which were enlivened by cattle. Marching along this low verdant ground, we reached a place called Taútilt at eleven o’clock. Here Wóghda, the father-in-law of Wóghdugu, had just pitched his tents, and part of his luggage was, at the moment of our arrival, being carried over from the island of Kóra, where the chief Sául had encamped, and the shores of which were enlivened by numerous herds of horned cattle.

Such is the remarkable mode of life adopted by these southern sections of the mysterious veiled rovers of the desert. Totally metamorphosed as they are by the character of the new region of which they have taken possession, they wander about and remove their encampments from one island to the other, and from one shore to the other, swimming their cattle across the river. They have almost renounced the use of the camel, that hardy animal, which afforded their only means of existence in those desert regions which had formerly been their home.

It was a highly interesting camping-ground. This branch of the river, which was about two hundred yards broad, and at present from six to eight feet deep, was enlivened by several boats, together with a good number of cattle, apparently rather averse to entering the water, which in summer usually dries up; the Tawárek busily arranging their little property and pitching their tents, or erecting their little boothlike huts of matting; then behind us the dense forest, closely enveloped by climbing plants. The principal branch of the river is from two to three miles distant.

We had scarcely arrived, when the cheerful little Wóghda started from his tent with a sudden bound, worthy of a public exhibition, in order to receive his friend the Sheikh El Bakáy. We encamped in the shade of the large trees, close to the border of the water, where we were soon visited by several Songhay people, who inhabit a small hamlet on the island of Kóra, where they cultivate tobacco. This article constituted in former times the chief branch of cultivation all along the river, but at present, since the conquest of the country by the Fúlbe, it has become a contraband article, so that the people from Timbúktu come stealthily hither, in order to buy from these people their produce with cotton strips or tári.

This chief, Wóghda, had been present, when quite a boy, at the attack which the Igwádaren at Égedesh made upon Mungo Park, whom all the old men along the river know very well, from his large strange-looking boat, with his white sail, his long coat, his straw hat, and large gloves. He had stopped at Bámba in order to buy fowls, of which he appears to have endeavoured to obtain a supply at every large place along the river. Wóghda further asserted that it was on this occasion that the Tawárek killed two of the Christians in the boat; but this seems to be a mistake, as it appears evident that two of the four valiant men, who, solitary and abandoned, in their boat, like a little fortress, navigated this river for so many hundred miles in the midst of these hostile tribes, were killed much lower down.

The people have plenty of asses, and a sword-blade of the commonest German or Solingen manufacture fetches every where two of these animals, which are sold for at least 6000 shells each in the town. But the more conscientious Arabs do not trade with the Tawárek, whose property they well know, for the greatest part, to be “harám,” or forbidden, because taken by violent means.

It had been announced that we were to start in the afternoon, but there was no reason for hurrying our departure, and we quietly encamped here for the night, when we were visited by a great number of the Welád Molúk, whose encampment was at no great distance from ours. They were short, thick-set men, with fair complexions, and expressive prepossessing features, but some of them were suffering dreadfully from a disgusting disease, which they attributed to the bad quality of the water. One or two of them, at least, had their nose and part of their face entirely eaten away by cancers, and formed altogether a horrible spectacle.

Much more agreeable was a visit which I received from the Tawárek chief, Sául, the leader of the Kél-Támuláit, a very stately personage, who remained the greater part of the night with us, engaged in animated conversation with the Sheikh. The following morning, while we were arranging our luggage, he, and another chief of the name of Khasíb, came to pay me their compliments, and sat for a long time near me, in order to observe my habits.

At length we were again on our march, following the windings of the river, which at times spread out to a fine sheet of water, but at others became hid behind sandy downs. On our left we had a well-wooded country, now and then changing into a low swampy ground, and enlivened by guinea- fowls. In this place we met a fine tall Tárki, mounted upon one of the highest “mehára” I had ever seen. It was Wóghdugu, the most valiant of all the southern Tawárek, Awelímmiden, Igwádaren, and Tademékket taken together, and a sincere and faithful friend of the Sheikh El Bakáy. He was a fine, tall, broad-shouldered man, of six feet four or five inches, and evidently possessing immense muscular strength, although he was by no means fat at the time, and even pretended not to be in the enjoyment of good health.

Numerous deeds of valour are related of this man, which remind one of the best age of European or Arab chivalry. He is said, at the time when the Tawárek conquered the town of Gúndam from the Fúlbe, to have jumped from his horse upon the wall of that place, and catching upon his shield the spears of all the enemy who were posted there, to have opened a way for his comrades. A few days before, he had been surprised, when quite alone, by a party of from ten to twelve of his private enemies, the followers of E’ Téni, but he succeeded in defending himself against them, and catching upon his shield all their iron spears, he reached the river, and made good his retreat in a boat.

Led on by this interesting man, and by a brother of his of the name of Mohammed, we soon reached a place named Izéberen, so called from two sandy downs rising from a flat shore, and at times entirely insulated. Inland, a large swampy backwater leaves only a narrow neck of land dry.

[Footnote 25: A complete list of all the tribes and sections of the Ímóshagh or Tawárek will be given in Appendix II. Here I will communicate the family relations of these chiefs of the Igwádaren, which are of importance for understanding clearly the political state of things in this part of the Niger, and which may be of some use to any future expedition. First, Ákhbi, the principal chief of this tribe, is a son of Sálem, son of Hemme, son of Akhéum. His rival is Sadáktu, the nephew of Simsim, who is a son of El Ámmer (the name of Sadáktu’s father I do not know), son of Walaswaríslar, son of Akhéum. Associated with Ákhbi is El Wóghdugu, a chief of a section of the Tarabanása, a very chivalrous man, and a great friend of the Sheikh El Bakáy, and son of Ég el Henne, son of Mansúr; El Wóghdugu’s brothers are Míni, Mohammed, Aníti, and Lubéd. Another chief of the Tarabanása, and a deadly enemy of El Wóghdugu, although allied with Ákhbi, is E’ Téni son of Agánte, son of Kháwi, son of Mansúr, son of Ag e’ Saʿade, son of Awédha. E’ Téni’s sons are: Umbúnge, Imbékke or Bába, Asátil, and Innósara; sons of a brother of E’ Téni are: Babaye and Bubákkeri. Another great man related to E’ Téni is Úgast, son of Shét, son of Kháwi.]

CHAP. LXXIV.

RETROGRADE MOVEMENT TOWARDS TIMBÚKTU.

The locality of Izéberen, where we had encamped, was not at all inviting, as it was but scantily provided with trees. Here we gave up our journey eastward, and again commenced our retrograde movement towards Timbúktu. I was now filled with the saddest forebodings; for after three or four days spent in vain dispute between the Sheikh and Ákhbi, the chief of the Igwádaren, who was encamped here, the latter persisted in his rebellious conduct against his liege lord Alkúttabu; and, instead of restoring what he had taken from the tribes placed under the protection of the latter, he made up his mind to follow the instigations of the Sheikh’s enemy and rival, Hammádi, and to throw himself into the arms of the Fúlbe and of the chief of Hamda-Alláhi. He thus caused an immense disturbance in this whole region; and in fact a bloody war broke out soon after my safe departure.

The encampment at Izéberen, to which this sad remembrance attaches, was tolerably enlivened with some interesting people, including as well some kinsmen of Ákhbi, as more especially the sons of Ég el Henne, Wóghdugu, and his brethren, Mohammed, Aníti, and Míni, all of whom are of a very cheerful disposition, and (as far as it is possible for a Tárki to be so) even amiable men. Among the former there was a boy named Kúngu, whose arrogance at first was a little troublesome, but eventually he became one of my best friends, and even now occupies a foremost place in my remembrance. He was a nephew of Ákhbi’s, and his father had been distinguished for his valour and warlike enterprise, but had been killed in battle at an early age, like most of the kinsfolk of this chief, so that the boy was brought up and educated by his mother, Tatináta, who was a daughter of Áwáb, the chief of the Tademékket whom I have repeatedly mentioned on former occasions.

Ákhbi himself was a man of about forty years of age, good-looking, but of an overbearing character. His father, Sálem, who had died a few months before at a very advanced age, had been distinguished by his intelligence, while Ákhbi, as soon as he acceded to power, had broken his allegiance to his liege lord, and entered into open hostilities with him. He had allowed his own small tribe, which scarcely numbered more than two hundred fighting men, to be divided into two hostile encampments, and in consequence of that feud had sustained a very heavy loss amongst his own followers. His quarrel with Alkúttabu was evidently a consequence of the intrigues of the Fúlbe and Hammádi, who, seeing that the political power of the Sheikh El Bakáy was based upon his friendship with the chief of the Awelímmiden, used all his endeavours to raise up an adversary to the latter; and the progress of this struggle, of which I did not see the end, may have been productive of great changes in the political relations of Timbúktu.

The endeavour to preserve the unity of the whole tribe of the Awelímmiden, which my protector had sincerely at heart, and thus to keep up the friendly relation of this tribe with that of the Igwádaren, induced him to postpone my interests, and to return once more westward, in order to exert his utmost to settle this serious affair. For the very tribe of the Igwádaren, from the first, when they were settled in Ázawád, had been the protectors of the Kunta, the tribe to which the family of Mukhtár belonged, and had especially defended them against the hostilities of the Ígelád, by whose subjection the former had founded their power. El Bakáy could not but see with the most heartfelt sorrow his former supporters likely to become the auxiliaries of his enemies; and his brother, Sídi Mohammed, whom he had left to fill his place in Timbúktu during his absence, had sent an express messenger from the town, requesting him to come, in order that he might consult with him upon the state of affairs.

As for myself, being anxious about my own interest, and fearing even for my life, which I was convinced was seriously threatened by another return towards Timbúktu, I employed every means in my power to persuade my friend to allow me to pursue my journey eastward, in the company of those pupils and followers of his whom he had promised to send along with me. But he would not consent to this, and I felt extremely dejected at the time, and could not but regard this retrograde journey to Timbúktu as a most unfortunate event.

Just at this time the news was brought, by way of Ghadámes, of the French having completely vanquished the Shaamba, and made an expedition to Wárgelá and Metlíli. In consequence of this report, the fear of the progress of these foreign and hated intruders into the interior of these regions became very general, and caused suspicion to attach to me, as these people could not but think that my journey to their country had some connection with the expedition of the French. But, taking all the circumstances into account, I found afterwards that my friend was altogether right in postponing for the time my journey eastward.

[Sidenote: Sunday, April 30th.]

This was the sad day when, with the most gloomy forebodings, I began my return journey towards the west. There had been the most evident signs of the approach of the rainy season, which in the zone further to the south had already set in, when, after so many reiterated delays, I was obliged once more to return towards that very place which I had felt so happy in having at length left behind me.

My protector was well aware of the state of my feelings, and while the people were loading the camels he came to me, and once more excused himself on account of this retrograde movement. There were, besides myself, some Arabs of the tribe of Gwanín, who wanted to go on to Ghérgo, in order to buy tobacco, and who now likewise were obliged to return once more to the westward, as they had no guarantee for their security in making the journey alone.

The splendid river along the banks of which lay our road, and which here was about half a mile across, afforded the only consolation in my cheerless mood. The junction of the two branches, as seen from this spot, presented a very fine spectacle. The gerredh trees also, which were in full blossom, attracted my attention.

Keeping a little nearer to the sandy downs, we soon reached the place of our former encampment in Taútilt. Having then passed along the small backwater of Barkánge, the volume of which had greatly decreased in these few days, we encamped about four miles beyond, in the open swampy ground which we had had such difficulty in crossing on our outward journey. It is called Erásar. In this low ground, between two swamps and about 800 yards from the bank of the river, without the shade of the smallest tree, the Igwádaren had encamped. It was owing to these swampy sites that I was afflicted with those severe rheumatic pains, from which I afterwards suffered so much in Bórnu, and which I occasionally feel even now.

The place was the more disagreeable, as we remained here the three following days, El Bakáy endeavouring all the time to persuade the chief Ákhbi to restore the property which he had taken from the subjects of his liege lord. I was in the mean time, anxious to keep up a friendly intercourse with the people with whom I was thus brought into contact, although most of the Igwádaren had already gone on in advance to their new retreat, and at that time were collected at Ernésse; while the straightforward and fearless chief Wóghdugu, and his friend Shamuwél, were still behind. I took a great interest in the name of the latter; for I thought that the names of Shamuwél, Sául, and Daniél—all being of frequent occurrence among this tribe, while, as far as I am aware, none of them is found among the Arabs,—tend to confirm the closer relation which these Berbers keep up with the Canaanitic tribes than with the Arabs. There was, in particular, a man of the name of Sáma, who was very friendly with me. On reading with him some writing in “Tefínaghen,” or the native Berber character, I became aware that this word signifies nothing more than tokens or alphabet. For as soon as the people beheld my books, and observed that they all consisted of letters, they exclaimed repeatedly, “Tefínaghen—ay—Tefínaghen!” and my little friend Kúngu, who had just learned the Arabic alphabet, was very anxious to know something about the value of the letters. I here also had proof of the great dislike which the Tawárek have to the name of their father being mentioned, for when the little Haibálla, the companion of the son of the Sheikh, mentioned the death of Kúngu’s father, the little fellow flew into a great rage, and was ready to kill him on the spot.

I received, besides, a great deal of information from a young man who had lately come from the north, in order to study under the Sheikh. He belonged to the Welád Yoʿaza, a section of the tribe of the Méshedúf, which originally appears to have been of pure Berber extraction, being identical with the celebrated tribe of the Masúfa, but who, at present, have become Arabicised. He was evidently a man of a good family; but being now rather scantily supplied with food, he took refuge with me, in order to enjoy my hospitality. On this occasion I learned from him a great deal with regard to some districts of the desert, with which I had been unacquainted.

In the same encampment, we received full confirmation of the news with regard to the progress of the French towards the south, and of their having taken possession of Wárgelá. The excitement produced in consequence was very great, and made my situation extremely difficult and dangerous. The Sheikh El Bakáy came twice in the same afternoon to me, expressing his intention of uniting the strength of the Tawátíye and the Awelímmiden in a common attack upon the French. But I endeavoured to show him the absurdity of such a proceeding, telling him that they themselves would gain nothing by such inconsiderate conduct, and would only furnish a fresh pretext to the French for penetrating farther into the interior. Moreover, I gave it as my opinion, that the latter, unless instigated, would not undertake such a thing as a military expedition to these distant regions, but would endeavour to open commercial intercourse with them in a peaceful manner. There the matter stopped for the moment.

[Sidenote: Thursday, May 4th.]

All the exertions of the Sheikh to persuade Ákhbi to return the property which he had taken by force from the tribes placed under the protection of the Awelímmiden being in vain, the latter broke up his encampment, in order to pursue his journey westward in search of new protectors and allies. To prevent the mischief which might result from this course, my friend followed, and I was obliged reluctantly to accompany him. The river had fallen considerably since I had last visited this district, and the scanty foliage of the lower part of the trees in the swampy tract which we traversed in the beginning of our march, bore evident testimony to the higher state of the water some time before.

Leaving then our former camping-ground in Tens-aróri on one side, we encamped after a march of a little more than six miles, on ground which was still so extremely damp that almost all my luggage was spoiled, while it likewise exercised a most unfavourable effect upon my health. We had previously had evident signs of the approach of the rainy season; but, to-day, we had the first regular shower accompanied by a thunderstorm, and rain fell round about us in a much more considerable quantity. The Tawárek were well aware that this was the real beginning of the rainy season, giving vent to their feelings in the words “ákase yúse”—“the rainy season has set in;” but my Arab companions, who repeatedly assured me that long before the setting in of the rainy season I should certainly reach Sókoto, would not acknowledge this as a regular rain, but qualified it as quite an exceptional phenomenon connected with the setting of the “Pleiads,” and calling it in sequence, “mághreb el thrayá.”

There was a great dread of lions in our encampment. I especially was warned to be on my guard, as my camping-ground, which I had surrounded with a fence, closely approached a jungle of rank grass; but we passed the night unmolested.

[Sidenote: Friday, May 5th.]

Although I had been promised that we should certainly not pass this place on our return westward, nevertheless, in the morning the order was suddenly given to decamp; and on we went, Ákhbi in the van and we in the rear, passing many small temporary encampments of the Igwádaren, who were exiling themselves from their own country. Having thus made a short march of about four miles, through a country now rising in sandy downs, covered with siwák and dúm-bush, at other times spreading out in low swampy meadow-grounds, and leaving Índikuway on our left, we encamped again in the midst of a swamp, at a short distance from the bank of the river. Fortunately, there was some rising ground, opening a fine view over the river, which here formed an arm of about 600 yards in breadth, while the opposite shore of Áribínda exhibited a very pleasant background. Cautiously I pitched my tent as high as possible, with the door looking towards the river, in order to console myself with the aspect of the stream. A beautiful jéja or caoutchouc tree, here called énderen, which I scarcely remember to have seen anywhere else in the whole of this district, gave life and animation to the encampment. A few miles towards the west, the high sandy downs of Úle Tehárge formed also an object of great interest.

It was extremely fortunate that the ground of this encampment did not present such a uniform level as in our last day’s ámazágh, for in the afternoon we were visited by a violent tempest, which threw back the fence that we had erected around our camping-ground, upon ourselves and our horses, and threatened to tear the tent to pieces: then, having made the round of the whole horizon, it returned once more from the north and discharged itself in a terrific shower, which lasted more than two hours, and changed the whole of the lower part of the plain into a large lake.

This thunderstorm afforded evident proofs of the full power of the rainy season; and as I had not yet even begun my long journey eastward, through districts so full of large rivers and of swampy valleys, my feelings may be more easily imagined than described. I felt very dissatisfied with the Sheikh El Bakáy, and he, on his part, was well aware of it. His own trustworthy and amiable character inspired me with the confidence that I should at length get safely out of all my trouble; but an immense amount of Job-like patience was required, for we staid in this encampment the five following days.

But we had a little intercourse with some remarkable persons which gave me some occupation. The most interesting of the passers by were three noble ladies of the tribe of the Kél-hekíkan, well mounted on camels in an open cage, or jakhfa, of rather simple structure, with the exception of the rich ornament on the head of the animal, as is represented in the accompanying woodcut. But the ladies themselves afforded an interesting sight, being well formed, of rather full proportions, though very plainly dressed. Then the whole of the Igwádaren, male and female, passed by close to my tent. There were, besides, the Kél-terárart and the Kél-tamuláit, or, as the Arabs call them, Áhel e’ Sául; and I had a long conversation with a troop of eight horsemen of the latter, who, in the evening, came to my tent in order to pay their respects to me. I reciprocated fully their protestations of friendship, and requested one of the two kinsmen of the chief Sául, who were among this troop, to accompany me on my journey eastward, promising to see him safe to Mekka. But, although he greatly valued my offer, he was afraid of the Aréwan or Kél-gerés, and of the inhabitants of Áír.

There was a great congregation of different chiefs with the Sheikh El Bakáy, and he flattered himself that he had made peace between inveterate enemies, such as E’ Téni and Wóghdugu; but the sequel showed that he was greatly mistaken, for these petty tribes cannot remain quiet for a moment. Great numbers of the Shémman-Ámmas were hovering round us, all of them begging for food. But my spirits were too much embittered to exercise great hospitality from the small stock of my provisions, which were fast dwindling away. Indeed, the stores which I had laid in, in the hope that they would last me until I reached Say, were almost consumed, and I was very glad to obtain a small supply of milk, which I usually bought with looking-glasses, or rather rewarded the gifts of the people by the acknowledgment of such a present. But these people were really very miserably off, and almost in a starving condition, all their property having been taken from them. They informed me that the Igwádaren had plundered twelve villages along the Eghírrëu, among others, those of Bámba, Égedesh, Aslíman, and Zómgoy.

The river was enlivened the whole day long with boats going up and down, and some of the people asserted that these boats belonged to the Fúlbe, who were looking out for an opportunity of striking a blow. The whole world seemed to be in a state of revolution. The news from the north of the advance of the French, the particulars of which, of course, could not but become greatly exaggerated, as the report was carried from tribe to tribe, excited my friend greatly, and the several letters, written by the people of Tawát, who were resident in Timbúktu, having reference to the same event, with which the messenger whom he had sent to that place returned, did not fail to increase his anxiety.

All these people seemed to be inspired with the same fear, that the French might without any further delay march from el Goléa, which they were said to have occupied, upon Timbúktu, or at least upon Tawát. On the whole it was very fortunate indeed that I was not in the town at this conjuncture, as in the first excitement these very people from Tawát, who previously had taken me under their especial protection, and defended me repeatedly, would have contributed to my ruin, as, from their general prejudice against a Christian, they lost all distinction between English and French, and represented me as a spy whose proceedings were connected with that expedition from the north.

They now urgently requested the Sheikh to write a letter to the whole community of Tawát, and to stimulate them to make an attack upon Wárgelá conjointly with the Hogár and Ázgar; but I did all in my power to prevent him from acceding to such a proposal, although he thought that I was greatly underrating the military strength of the people of Tawát. However, although I succeeded in preventing such a bold stroke of policy, I could not prevent his writing a letter to the French, in which he interdicted them from penetrating further into the interior, or entering the desert, under any pretext whatever, except as single travellers. He also wanted me to write immediately to Tripoli, to request that an Englishman should go as consul to Tawát; but I told him that this was not so easily done, and that he must first be able to offer full guarantee that the agent should be respected.

In my opinion it would be better if the French would leave the inhabitants of Tawát to themselves, merely obliging them to respect Europeans, and keep open the road to the interior; but although at that time I was not fully aware of the intimate alliance which had been entered into between the French and the English, I was persuaded that the latter neither could nor would protect the people of Tawát against any aggressive policy of the French, except by peaceable means, as Tawát is pre-eminently situated within the range of their own commerce. If both the English and French could agree on a certain line of policy with regard to the tribes of the interior, those extensive regions might, I think, be easily opened to peaceful intercourse. Be this as it may, under the pressure of circumstances, I found myself obliged to affix my name to the letter written by the Sheikh, as having been present at the time, and candour imposed upon me the duty of not signing a wrong name.

All this excitement, which was disagreeable enough, had, however, one great advantage for me, as I was now informed that letters had reached my address, and that I should have them; but I was astonished to hear that these letters had arrived in Ázawád some months previously. I expostulated very strongly with my friend upon this circumstance, telling him that if they wanted friendship and “imána,” or security of intercourse with us, they ought to be far more strict in observing the conditions consequent upon such a relation. I then received the promise that I should have the letters in a few days.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, May 10th.]

Our hosts the Kél-gógi removed their encampment, and we followed them, although my protector had repeatedly assured me that in our retrograde movement we should certainly not have to pass the fine caoutchouc-tree that adorned our encampment. Leaving the high sandy downs of Úle- Tehárge, on the banks of the river, we kept around the extensive swampy meadow-ground which spreads out behind them, several small encampments of the wandering Tawárek enlivening the green border of the swamp. Crossing, then, some rising ground beyond the reach of the wide expanse of shallow backwaters connected with the river, we came to the well- known creek of Amalélle, and followed its northerly shore till we reached its source or head, where our friend Ákhbi had taken up his encampment in the midst of a swampy meadow-ground, which afforded rich pasture to his numerous herds of cattle; for, as I have had occasion repeatedly to state, the Tawárek think nothing of encamping in the midst of a swamp.

As for ourselves, we were obliged to look out for some better-protected and drier spot, and therefore ascended the sandy downs, which rise to a considerable elevation, and are well adorned with talha-trees and siwák, or Capparis sodata. Having pitched my tent in the midst of an old fence, or zeríba, I stretched myself out in the cool shade, and forgetting for a moment the unpleasant character of my situation, enjoyed the interesting scenery of the landscape, which was highly characteristic of the labyrinth of backwaters and creeks which are connected with this large river of Western Central Africa.

At the foot of the downs was the encampment of our friends the Tawárek, with its larger and smaller leathern tents, some of them open and presenting the interior of these simple movable dwellings; beyond, the swampy creek, enlivened by a numerous herd of cattle half-immersed in the water; then a dense border of vegetation, and beyond in the distance, the white sandy downs of Ernésse, with a small strip of the river. I made a sketch of this pleasant and animated locality, which is represented in the plate opposite. The scenery was particularly beautiful in the moonlight when I ascended the ridge of the downs, which rise to about 150 feet in height. In the evening I received a little milk from the wife of one of the chiefs of the Kél-gógi of the name of Lámmege, who was a good-looking woman, and to whom I made a present of a looking-glass and a few needles in return. The Tawárek, while they are fond of their wives, and almost entirely abstain from polygamy, are not at all jealous; and the degree of liberty which the women enjoy is astonishing; but, according to all that I have heard, instances of faithlessness are very rare among the nobler tribes. Among the degraded sections, however, and especially among the Kél e’ Súk, female chastity appears to be less highly esteemed, as we find to be the case also among many Berber tribes at the time when El Bekrí wrote his interesting account of Africa.[26]

Meanwhile my good and benevolent protector was in a most unpleasant dilemma, between his regard for his own interest and his respect for myself. He severely rebuked the Tárki chief for having disturbed the friendly relation which had formerly existed between himself and me; for since our retrograde movement, in order to incite my friend to a greater degree of energy, I never went to his tent, although he repeatedly paid me a visit. At length, after mature consideration, the Sheikh had decided that I, together with the greater part of his followers, should go to Ernésse, there to await his return, while he himself intended to approach still nearer to Timbúktu, although he affirmed that he would not enter the town under any condition.

Thus we separated the next morning, and I took leave of the friends whom I had made among the tribe of the Igwádaren. These people were leaving their former homes and their former allies, in order to seek new dwelling-places and new friends. There was especially, the little Kúngu, who, early in the morning, came on his white horse to bid me farewell. We had become very good friends, and he used to call daily to talk with me about distant countries, and the different varieties of nations as far as he had any idea of such things. He was an intelligent and chivalrous lad, and with his long black hair, his large expressive eyes, and his melancholy turn of mind, I liked him much. When I told him that he would yet become one of the great chiefs of the Tawárek, and a celebrated warrior, he expressed his fear that it would be his destiny to die young like his brothers, who had all fallen in battle at an early age; but I consoled him, and promised that if any friend of mine should visit these regions after me, I would not fail to send him a present for himself. He regretted having left the neighbourhood of Bámba, which he extolled very highly on account of its fine trees and rich pasture- grounds; but he spoke enthusiastically of the Ráfar-n-áman, or, as the Arabs call it, the Rás el má, with the rich grassy backwaters and creeks which surround it, especially the valley called Tisórmaten, the reminiscences of which filled his boyish mind with the highest delight.

Thus I took leave of this young Tárki lad, after having given him such little presents as I could spare. Swinging himself upon his horse by means of his iron spear, he rode off with a martial air, probably never to hear of me again. I took the opposite direction, along the shore of the creek Amalélle, accompanied by a guide whom Áhmed el Wadáwi had brought from Ernésse, and followed by Mohammed ben Khottár the Sheikh’s nephew, Sídi-Mohammed the Sheikh’s son, and almost the whole of his followers. However, the company of all these people did not inspire me with so much confidence that my friend and protector would not tarry long behind, as the fact of the presence of his favourite female cook Díko who accompanied us, and whose services my friend could scarcely dispense with; and I thus agreed in the opinion of his confidential pupil Mohammed el Ámín, who, knowing well the character of his teacher, disputed with energy with those amongst my companions who thought that the Sheikh would send us word to join him in the town.

I therefore cheerfully enjoyed once more the very peculiar character of this river district, with its many creeks, small necks of land, and extensive swamps. Since we had last visited this place the waters had retired considerably, and the extensive swampy lowlands between Temáharót and Ernésse had become quite dry, so that we had to cross only a narrow channel-like strip of water. Following then the sandy downs, we soon reached the well known encampment of the Kél-n-nokúnder, where I was hospitably entertained with a bowl of ghussub water. I was disposed to enjoy in privacy the view over the river, while lying in the shade of a siwák, but the number of Tawárek who were passing by did not allow me much leisure, for the tents of Sául, as well as those of El Wóghdugu, were at a short distance. But these people, conscious of their having deserved punishment at the hand of their liege lord, were frightened away by the rising of a simúm, as it is popularly believed in the country that this wind is the sign of the approach of the great army, or tábu, of the Awelímmiden, and they all started off the next morning.

The river, which is here very broad, forms a large low island called Banga-gúngu, the “hippopotamus island,” while a smaller one, distinguished by a fine tamarind tree, is called Búre. I endeavoured in the afternoon to reach the bank of the river itself; but it is beset with a peculiar kind of grass of great height, armed with such offensive bristles that it is almost impossible to penetrate through it. In the latter part of the cold and during the hot season, a path leads along this low grassy shore, but, during some months of the year, the water reaches the very downs. It is a fine spot for an encampment, the air being good. But the whole site consists only of a narrow sandy ridge, backed towards the north by an extensive swamp, the border of which is girt with the richest profusion of vegetation, interwoven with creeping plants, and interspersed with dúm-bush. This place is called “úggada,” and forms a haunt for numbers of wild beasts, especially lions, and the inhabitants gave an animated description of a nocturnal combat which, two days previously, had raged between two lions on account of a lioness.

It had been decided that we should await here the return of the Sheikh; but, after we had passed the following day in this place, our friends the Kél-n-nokúnder, already satisfied with the honour of entertaining so many guests for one day, endeavoured to escape from our hands, and, without having given us the slightest warning, on the morning of Saturday suddenly removed their encampment. Fortunately they went eastward, in which direction I would have followed them to the end of the world. Thus my companions, the télamíd, rushed after them like hungry vultures after their prey. I had my things packed in a moment, and we followed them along the same narrow neck of downs on which our route had lain in coming from Amalélle; but, instead of traversing the swamp by the ford northward, we kept along it towards the east, where the downs gradually decrease in height, being overgrown with colocynths, and, further on, with túrsha, or Asclepias gigantea, and the blue Crucifera or daman-kádda. Further on they cease entirely, and give way to a low shore, which, during the highest state of the inundation, forms a connection between the river and the swampy background stretching out behind the downs.

Here, where the river takes a fine sweep to the south-east, and forms several islands, was situated in former times a town of the name of Belesáro, but, at present, nothing but groups of a beautiful species of wild fig-tree, called here duwé, mark this spot as the former scene of human industry.

Crossing then a low swampy ground, overgrown with rich býrgu and rank reed grass, we reached the high sandy downs of Úle-Tehárge, which had already attracted my attention from our encampment in Tehárge. On the highest part of these downs the Kél-n-nokúnder chose the place for their new encampment, and I fixed upon a former fence, wherein I pitched my tent, which from this elevated position was visible over a great part of the river. But my young friend, the Sheikh’s nephew, imbued with the superstitious prejudices of his mother, always greatly objected to my using the former dwelling-places of other people, as if they were haunted by spirits.

It was a beautiful camping-ground, elevated about 150 feet above the surface of the river, over which it afforded a magnificent prospect, the river here forming a very noble sheet of water. It is asserted, however, that in summer it is fordable at the place called Énsowéd. A little beyond the end of the downs, where it formed another reach towards the south, the river presented the appearance of an extensive lake. Nearer the opposite shore a low grassy island called Rábara stretched out, and another narrow strip of ground called Wáraka was separated from the shore, on our side, by a narrow channel, and overgrown with the finest býrgu. Towards the south, the steep sandy downs were bordered by a strip of rich vegetation, behind which a green swampy plain stretched out, intersected by an open channel, which separated us from the main, where another village of the Kél-n-nokúnder was lying, the barking of whose dogs was distinctly heard.

The small creek which separated the island of Wáraka from our shore was full of crocodiles, some of which measured as much as eighteen feet, the greatest length which I have ever seen this animal attain in Central Africa; and swimming just below the surface of the water, with the head occasionally peeping forth, they greatly threatened the security of the cattle, who were grazing on the fine rank grass growing on the border of the creek. In the course of the day these voracious and most dangerous animals succeeded in seizing two cows belonging to our hosts, and inflicted a very severe wound upon a man who was busy cutting grass for my horses.

This man had attached himself to my party in order to return to Háusa, which was originally his home. But there was a great difference of opinion as to whether he was at liberty to go, although he was a liberated slave, and I was given to understand that his company might involve me in disputes with his former masters; for, in general, even liberated slaves are supposed to observe some sort of duty to their former employers. Nevertheless, I had allowed him to stay, but was now obliged to send him back to Timbúktu, as almost the whole of his foot had been carried away by the monster, so that he was entirely unfit for the journey, and required immediate relief.

The view of the river was the more interesting, as a strong north-east wind, or, as the Tawárek say, “erífe,” ruffled its surface so considerably, that it crested the waves with white foam, and presented a very animated appearance, the magnificent sheet of water, the green island and shore, and the high ridge of the wide sandy downs, forming a most pleasing contrast.

There was, also, no lack of intercourse. Sometimes it was some fishermen of the Songhay who solicited my hospitality in the evening; at others, it was a troop of Tawárek horsemen, who came to see the Christian stranger of whom they had heard so much. The most remarkable among them were the horsemen of the Kél-tabórit, and the Kél-támuláit[27], with whom I had a long conversation, in the course of which I endeavoured to make them understand that the whole of this extensive region, of which they knew only a small part, was “nothing but a large island, or gúngu” (“gúngu ghás”), in the great salt sea, just as the island of Rábara, opposite to us, was with regard to the Niger, or the Eghírrëu, the only name by which this river is known to all the Berber tribes. They thus became aware that the dominion of the sea was of some importance, as it gave access to all these countries, whereas before they had only looked with a sort of contempt upon people living only, as they thought, in vessels on the sea; and they were not a little surprised when I told them that we were able to come up this river from the sea. They likewise had heard, and some of them perhaps had even seen, something of that adventurous Christian who, fifty years ago, had navigated this river, and who, even after this lapse of time, remains a mysterious and insoluble enigma to them, as to the place from whence he so suddenly appeared, and whither he was going.

The influence of conversation is great among these simple dwellers of the desert, and the more we talked the more friendly became the behaviour of my visitors, till at last they asked me why I did not marry one of their daughters and settle among them. On the other side of the river there were encampments of the Imedíddiren and Terféntik, and some of the latter paid our hosts a rather abrupt visit, taking away from them a head of cattle, so that the Sheikh’s nephew, Mohammed ben Khottár, was obliged to cross the river in order to obtain damages from them. The Kél-n-nokúnder, who in former times had been greatly ill-used by the free Imóshagh, have been imbued by their protectors the Kunta with such a feeling of independence, that they are now not inclined to bear even the slightest injustice, and they had certainly some right to demand that, at the very moment while they were treating so large a party belonging to their protector, they should not themselves suffer any violence. However, I heard to my great surprise, that they likewise pay zekʿa to the Fúlbe, or Fullán. My friend, who had some trouble in persuading the freebooters from beyond the river to restore the property, represented them to me as fine tall men, kinsfolk of the Tarabanása, but very poor. It is really surprising that a family of peaceable men should exercise such an influence over these wild hordes, who are continually waging war against each other, merely from their supposed sanctity and their purity of manners.

The interesting character of the locality did not suffice, however, for our material welfare, and my companions made serious complaints on account of the scanty supply of food which they received from our hosts; and for this reason they were almost as eager to hear some news of the Sheikh as I myself.

From our former encampment in Ernésse, I had sent my servant, Mohammed el Gatróni, into the town in order to procure me a supply of the most necessary provisions, as my former stock was entirely consumed; and it was fortunate, on this account, that I had saved 5000 shells, which I was able to give him for this purpose. He now joined us again in this place on the 14th, and, of course, every one hastened to learn what news he had brought from the town and from the camp of the Sheikh. He had arrived in Timbúktu a little before sunset, and, having finished, without delay, his purchases of the articles wanted by me, immediately hurried away to the camp of my protector; for, as soon as the news of the arrival of my servant had got abroad in the town in conjunction with the return of the Sheikh to his camp, the utmost excitement prevailed amongst the townspeople, who fancied that I myself was returning, and, in consequence, the alarm drum was beaten. My servant also informed me that the Tawátíye themselves were greatly excited against me, as if I had had anything to do with the proceedings of the French against Wárgelá; and he assured me, that, if I had still been in the town, they would have been the first to have threatened my life. He had only slept one night in the camp, and then left early the following morning, and therefore knew nothing about our protector’s coming, but he confirmed the fact that there were letters for me. Fortunately, on returning, he had been informed that we had changed our camping-ground, and finding a guide, he had been able to join us without delay. The suníye of negro- millet fetched at the time, in the market of Timbúktu, 4500; a large block of salt of about 60 lb. weight, 5000; and kóla nuts, from 80 to 100 shells each. With my limited supply of means, it was fortunate that I never became accustomed to the latter luxury.

[Footnote 26: El Bekrí, ed. de Slane, p. 182. والزنا عندهم مباح]

[Footnote 27: Two of the Kel-tabórit gave me the following list of places from hence along the river as far as Ánsongó, and, as it contains a few names with which I did not become acquainted in the right place, and moreover presents various forms, I will here insert it:—Ejíji, Yó Kaina, Karre, Gówa, Káma, Kokíshi, Bogánne, Serére, Aríbis, Anrabéra, Ajíma, Terárwist, Kórsejáy, Tédafó, Ajáta, Aútel-mákkoren, Tekánkant, Insámmen, Ém-n-tabórak, Asíya, Samgoy, Tághemart, Kóyaga, Taúsa, Burrum, Tén-ézede, Há, Gógó, Borno, Bára, Enejéti, Tufádafór, Ebélbelen, Ánsongó. At the same time I learned the localities along the road from Ánsongó, or probably from Búre to Dóre, the chief place of Libtáko, which is a track not unfrequently followed by the inhabitants of the districts on the left bank of the Niger:—Inbám, Ejérar, Támbelghú, Akhabélbel, Énkulbá, Wendu (Dóre). Akhabélbel, or Khalébleb, is the name of a large lake or backwater, which is also touched at in going from Gógó to Dóre, and which seems to deserve the full attention of European explorers.]

CHAP. LXXV.

FINAL AND REAL START. — CREEKS ON THE NORTHERN BANKS OF THE NIGER. — GHÉRGHO. — BAMBA.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, May 17th.]

About noon the whole encampment was thrown into a state of the greatest excitement, by the arrival of two of the Sheikh’s followers, who informed us that our friend had not only left the camp, but had even passed us, keeping along the northern border of the swamp which stretched behind our camping-ground. All was joy and excitement, and in an instant my tent was struck, and my luggage arranged on the backs of the camels. But we had to take a very roundabout way to get out of this place, surrounded and insulated as it was by deep swamps, for with our horses and camels, together with our heavy luggage, we could not think of crossing the creek which entirely cuts off the downs of Úle-Tehárge. We were thus obliged to return all the way to Belesáro, almost as far as our previous fording-place between Amalélle and Ernésse. Here, cutting through the swampy plain (which at present at this spot was for the greater part dry), along the localities called Tín-éggedád, and further on Oráken, we at length, having gained firm ground, were able to change our direction to the east along Elíggedúf and Ewábe. We had just marched three hours, when we found ourselves opposite our encampment on the downs, separated from them by the swampy ground of about half a mile in extent.

Uncertain as to the direction which our friend had taken, we now began to rove about, here and there, in search of him; but there was no inducement to tarry long, as, by the breaking up of a great number of encampments of the Tawárek, an innumerable host of small flies had been left in this district without occupation and sustenance, and thus left destitute of their usual food greedily attacked ourselves. Leaving then behind us the low downs, which were thickly covered with dúm-bush, the resort of a numerous host of guinea fowl, we entered again low swampy ground, and at length, after having traversed a thickly wooded district, ascertained the spot whither the Sheikh had betaken himself, which was at a place called Ákale, the eminence on the bank of the river being called Ém-aláwen. But, when we at length reached it, we found the holy man sleeping in the shade of a siwák, or Capparis, and the noise of our horses, as we came galloping along, was not sufficient to awaken him from his deep slumber. Such was the mild and inoffensive character of this man, in the midst of these warlike and lawless hordes.

Waiting till my protector should rise from his peaceful slumber, I sat down in the shade of a rich siwák, enjoying the faint prospect of my journey home, now opening before me.

At length my friend awoke, and I went to him. He received me with a gentle smile, telling me that he was now ready to conduct me on my journey without any further delay or obstruction, and handing me at the same time a parcel of letters and papers. There were copies of two letters from Lord John Russell, of the 19th February 1853; one from Lord Clarendon, of the 24th of the same month; a letter from Chevalier Bunsen; another from Colonel Hermann; and two from Her Majesty’s agent in Fezzán. There were no other letters, either from home or from any of my friends; but there were, besides, ten Galignanis, and a number of the Athenæum, of the 19th March 1853.

I can scarcely describe the intense delight I felt at hearing again from Europe, but still more satisfactory to me was the general letter of Lord John Russell, which expressed the warmest interest in my proceedings. The other letters chiefly concerned the sending out of Dr. Vogel and his companions, which opened to me the prospect of finding some European society in Bórnu, if I should succeed in reaching my African head- quarters in safety. But of the expedition to the Tsadda or Bénuwé, which had started for its destination some time previously to the date of my receiving these letters, I obtained no intimation by this opportunity; and, indeed, did not obtain the slightest hint of that undertaking, of which I myself was to form a part, till December, when it had already returned to England.

I thanked the Sheikh for having at length put me in possession of these despatches, but I repeated at the same time my previous remark, that if he and his friends wanted to have “imána,” or well established peaceable intercourse with us, security ought first of all to prevail as to our letters, and I was assured that this parcel had been lying in Ázawád for at least two months. But the Sheikh excused himself, stating that one of the chief men in that district, probably the chief of the Bérabísh, had kept them back under the impression that they might contain something prejudicial to his country; an opinion which, of course, could not fail to be confirmed by the proceedings of the French in the south-western districts bordering upon Algeria. But, altogether, the history of this parcel was marvellous. It had evidently come by way of Bórnu; yet there was not a single line from the vizier, who, if all had been right, I felt sure would have written to me; moreover, the outer cover had been taken off, although the seal of the inner parcel had not been injured. But the reason, of which I, however, did not become aware till a much later period, was this, that, before the parcel left Sókoto, the news of the execution of the vizier had already reached that place, when the letter addressed by that person to myself was taken away, and probably also something else which he had sent for me. But, it moreover happened that the man who was commissioned to convey the parcel to Timbúktu was slain by the Góberáwa, or Mariadáwa, on the road between Gando and Say, at a moment when the packet was by accident left in the hands of a companion of his, who, pursuing his route in safety, took it to Ázawád. But the death of the principal bearer of the letters addressed to me, in all probability, contributed not a little to confirm the rumour of myself having been slain near Marádi. However, at that time, and even much later, I had no idea that such rumours were current in the quarter which I had left.

[Sidenote: Thursday, May 18th.]

It was with a very pleasant feeling that I at length found myself in the company of my noble host, again pursuing my journey eastward; and I enjoyed the peculiar features of the country with tolerable ease and comfort. The varied composition of our troop, among whom there were several well disposed friends, afforded also much relief.

The country was the same that I had already traversed; but it presented some new features, as we followed another path. I was principally struck with the enormous size of the “retem,” or broom, which here assumed the proportions of considerable trees of more than twenty feet in height, while the siwák, or Capparis sodata, was in great abundance.

Having rested, after a march of about ten miles, in a dense part of the forest, which is said to be frequented by lions, we pursued our march in the afternoon; when, proceeding along the swampy creek of Barkánge, which was now almost dried up, and passing Tautilt, we pitched our tents a little beyond the former ámazágh of the chief Wóghda, near a camp of the Welád-Molúk. The branch of the river at this spot was at present so shallow, that a flock of sheep was seen fording it towards the island; waterfowl, also, and especially such birds as live upon fish, were in immense numbers. Crocodiles were seen in abundance, and caused us some anxiety for the horses, which were pasturing on the fine rank grass at the border of the river.

The Tawárek having now left the banks of the river, the black natives seemed to be more at their ease, and several boats belonging to the Songhay crossed over to us from the island of Kóra. I had seen the male portion of the Arab tribe of the Welád-Molúk on a former occasion, but I here, for the first time, saw their wives and daughters, who, attracted by curiosity, came in the evening to catch a glimpse of the Christian stranger, and were roving about my tent, but I did not observe a single attractive person among them, and, feeling rather sleepy, paid but little attention to them.

[Sidenote: Friday, May 19th.]

While the other members of our troop kept more inland, I followed the bank of the river, which here, with its fine open sheet of water, presents a highly interesting aspect, till I reached our old camping- ground at Izéberen, from whence I had some difficulty in rejoining my friends, for the whole of this part of the river is full of backwaters and creeks, which renders the communication rather difficult to people who are not well acquainted with the character of the country, but on this very account they afford rich pasture-grounds after the river has begun to decrease. Unfortunately, even now, when we had finally entered upon our journey, the dilatory character of my host remained unaltered, and, after a march of seven miles, we halted near a small encampment of the Kél-n-nokúnder, professedly as if we were to start again in the afternoon, but in reality in order to pass the night there. However, I was glad that we had at least gone beyond the place which we had reached on our former abortive start.

The locality was adorned with some luxuriant specimens of duwé, and the tagelálet, or agáto. Under one of these fine trees, the dense foliage of which almost reached the ground, I passed the heat of the day in friendly conversation with some of the peaceable Tolba, who came to have a chat with me on religious topics. When the cool of the evening set in, I pitched my tent near the bank of the open branch of the river, which was girt by a fine border of rank grass; but the river was here broken, and did not present that noble character which I was wont to admire in it.

[Sidenote: Saturday, May 20th.]

We were to start at a very early hour, but the difficulty of making out the right path among these numerous swamps and creeks, kept us back till all our companions were ready. We then had to turn round a very difficult swamp, which had now begun to dry up, and where we observed the first traces of the wild hog that I had hitherto seen along this part of the Niger. After we had left this swamp behind us, the river exhibited its truly magnificent character, and we proceeded close along the border of its limpid waters, on a beautiful sandy beach, our left being shut in by high sandy downs, richly clad with dúm-palms and tagelálet.

It was here, for the first time, that I observed the traces of the zangway. This animal appears to be quite distinct from the crocodile, and perhaps resembles the American igwana. It is much smaller than the crocodile; and its footprint indicated a much broader foot, the toes being apparently connected by a continuous membrane. Unfortunately I never obtained a sight of the animal itself, but only observed its footprints in the sand: it attains, as it seems, only to the length of from six to eight feet.

The well-defined character of the river, however, did not last long, and again there succeeded the low swampy shore, which occasionally obliged us to keep at a greater distance from the main trunk, while the vegetation in general was abundant. The predominant tree in this district, also, was the siwák, or Capparis, which, with its small berries, which were just ripening, afforded us occasionally a slight refreshment. They can, however, only be taken in small quantities, as they have a very strong taste, like pepper, and on this account are much pleasanter when they are dried, in which state they afford a not inconsiderable portion of the food of the nomadic inhabitants of these regions. Besides the siwák, or “tésak,” there was also a great quantity of “retem,” which is here called atárkit or ásabay; further on, dúm- palms became very prevalent.

Leaving, then, the locality called Tahónt on our left, we reached a very large grassy creek, which was enlivened by herds of cattle, and encamped on its border, in the shade of a dense belt of fine trees, woven together by an immense number of climbing plants. The whole bottom of the valley was at least seven hundred yards wide, and behind a smaller strip of water a larger open branch was observed, intersecting the rich grassy valley. It is very remarkable, that neither the Imóshagh, or Tawárek, nor the Arabs, have, as far as I am aware, a name sufficiently expressive for these shallow vales; the Arabs in general calling an open creek of water “rejl” or “krá,” and a less open one “bot-há;” while the Tawárek call them in general an arm, properly a leg, of the river, or “ádar-n-eghírrëu;” but the native Háusa name “fáddama” is far more significant. It was on this account that Caillié called the whole of these shallow creeks by the corrupted Jolof name, “marigot.”

Close behind our encampment the ground formed a slight slope, and presented the site or tazámbut of a former Songhay place called Hendi- kíri, a place which is perhaps identical with Kambakíri, mentioned in the history of Songhay as the spot where a dreadful battle was fought between two rival pretenders.[28] It is difficult to imagine the different aspect which this country must have presented in former times, when all the favourable sites formed the seats of flourishing dwelling- places, and animated intercourse was thronging along the track on the side of the river. It was a fine halting-place, characteristic of the whole nature of this region; but the ants were very numerous, and disturbed us greatly during our short halt.

After resting for about four hours, we pursued our march eastward, keeping for the first mile close along the bot-há, which soon changed its character to a considerable open sheet of water. Leaving then this water, and crossing several smaller grassy creeks, and traversing a low sandy ridge, we reached another large backwater; and winding along it in a south-easterly direction, through bushes and dúm-palms, we reached, after a march of about six miles, an interesting sandy headland called Ém-n-kúris, situated at the point where the creek joins the river, which here forms a fine sweep, changing its course from a west-easterly to a south-northerly direction.

On this open sandy promontory we chose the spot for our night’s quarters, opposite an encampment of the Kél-antsár which was situated on the other side of the creek, and enlivened by dúm-palms. The river itself formed a fine open sheet, broken only by a small island, and, being animated by several boats, exhibited a grand spectacle. There was a good deal of consultation in the evening between the eldermen, or ámaghár, of the Kél-antsár and my protector, with regard to the course to be pursued under the present political circumstances of the country, these poor people scarcely knowing which party to follow amidst the general confusion which prevailed. I learned on this occasion that the Ígelád, to whom the tribe of the Kél-antsár belongs, have three learned chiefs or judges, the most respected of whom, El Táher, lives at Rás el má. The night which we passed here on a rising ground just over the stream was beautifully fresh, while the elevation caused us to be exempt from the plague usual in these swampy lowlands.

[Sidenote: Sunday, May 21st.]

While we were breaking up our encampment and loading our animals, the opposite camp of our friends was enlivened by numerous herds of sheep and goats, and we should have made a very interesting day’s march, as we were now approaching a better-inhabited district, if it had not been for the hospitable treatment of our hosts, who, in order to satisfy their numerous visitors, had probably, the preceding night, mixed together all sorts of milk, so that almost all the people were seriously ill; and the first part of our march presented so distressing a spectacle that most of my companions thought the milk had been poisoned.

Thus we passed a remarkable locality on a rising sandy bank behind a considerable creek, which, by its name Tamizgída, evidently indicates the site of a former dwelling-place, and is probably identical with the Tírka (or rather Tírekka) of Arab geographers[29], if that identity does not apply to Ghérgo. Having passed this place, we followed the shallow water, which gradually widened, being intersected by fences and dykes for the purpose of cultivating rice and catching fish. Larger trees became gradually more scanty, indicating our approach to a still existing dwelling-place, as is generally the case in Negroland, the trees being consumed for firewood; but just as we came in sight of this place, which is Ghérgo (pronounced Rérgo), in order to avoid the heat during the midday hours, on an almost unprotected shore, we thought it better to halt in the shade of the last trees. I myself found shelter under the densely woven foliage of a fine group formed by the union of a géza with an aghelál, where I had nothing better to do than to treat all my people with tea and coffee, in order to restore their wasted spirits and strength, as they had suffered greatly from their last night’s diet.

Our road from this point to the town led along the border of the swampy lowlands, following a great many windings round the indented shore of the creek. Thus we reached, after a march of a little more than two miles, the bank opposite the village of Ghérgo, and began looking about for some time for a fit place to encamp, for the village itself, situated as it is behind a large backwater, could not be reached. The opposite shore is extremely bleak and unbroken, being destitute even of bush, while only three isolated trees dotted the ground for a great distance, and these were unfortunately too far off from the ford, where we chose our camping-ground, to be of any use to us during our stay.

Ghérgo is a place not without interest, and seems to be of considerable antiquity. According to tradition, it is stated to be seven years older than Túmbutu, or Timbúktu, and seems therefore well deserving of a right to be identified with one of the celebrated centres of life in these regions in the first dawn of historical record. It was originally situated on the main, occupying an eminence a little to the east of our encampment, till, in more recent times, the weakened and unprotected inhabitants were obliged to retire behind the backwater from fear of the Tawárek. Certainly, the insular nature of their dwelling-place is of a rather indistinct character; for in general, with the exception of those years when the inundations of the river reach an extraordinary height, as had been the case this year, the smaller branch dries up to such an extent, that a person may enter the place without wetting his feet; but this happens at a season when their tormentors the Tawárek leave the banks of the river and retire inland, so that they suffer but little from them. This year the high state of the inundation had inspired them with so much confidence, that they had refused their boats to the tábu, or the army of their great liege lord himself. The river had risen to such an elevation, that it had reached their very huts, which, separated into three distinct groups, are situated on a slightly rising ground.

The inhabitants, even in the present reduced state of the country, raise a good deal of rice and tobacco, though the cultivation ought to be much more extensive, if we consider the wide expanse of the low swampy ground which is reached by the inundation. The river, indeed, is at such a distance, that it is not seen at all, being hidden behind the sandy downs which form its inner bank. But it is remarkable that the nutritious grass, the býrgu, which I have so repeatedly mentioned, was almost wanting here, and the cattle of the village were obliged to be driven to a great distance, so that, notwithstanding the richness of the pasture-grounds in general, I was in want of milk.

We remained here the following day, and after a very cold morning, which seemed rather remarkable in the month of May, I took a walk up the gradually rising downs, which partly consisted of sand and gravel, partly exhibited a more stony character, and, contrasted with the wide green valley of the river, presented a bleak desert scenery with undulating ground towards the north, clad with nothing but isolated tufts of dry herbage. From the higher ground I had an interesting view over the whole village, situated in the midst of swampy creeks and bordered on each side by a solitary tree. I counted from this point about 350 huts.

On returning from my walk to our encampment, I found a great number of the inhabitants of the place assembled, and, after they had paid their compliments to the Sheikh, anxiously looking out for the stranger in order to obtain his blessing also. But I did not find them sufficiently interesting to have much intercourse with them, for they have very little of that noble independent carriage which distinguishes, in such an eminent degree, their south-eastern countrymen; and their stature, as well as their features, seemed to indicate plainly a very strong intermixture with Mósi slaves. It is not improbable, that the whole indigenous population of this northern bank of the Niger originally belonged to the race of the Tombo. Most of these people wore closely fitting white shirts and trowsers, both made of a broad kind of cotton strip, or tári, of very coarse texture, while their head is generally encircled with a very rugged and poor turban, if we may so call it, of the same material; only a few of them being dressed in a more decent style. They had a good deal of butter, but dared not sell it, through fear of the Tawárek. I was not a little surprised at the large species of geese which they were breeding.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, May 23rd.]

We started in the cool of the morning, keeping close to the border of the swampy creek, which gradually becomes narrower, while the principal trunk of the river approaches. After a march of about a mile and a half, we receded a little into the desert, which exhibited an immense number of footprints of the giraffe, generally three or four together. Here the vegetation was rather scanty, the ground in general being covered with nothing but low bushes; but, after we had approached a small ridge of sandy downs, we crossed a hollow, which, being the dried up ground of a pond, or dhaye, was surrounded with dúm-bush and tobacco-grounds.

We had been joined some time previously by a chief of the Kél-antsár, who invited us to spend the hot hours of the day with him. We therefore halted at an early hour by the side of his encampment, which was situated on a promontory close beyond the rich vale whence the district was called “eráshar;” Kírtebe and Tárashít we had left on one side. The people slaughtered a whole ox, and sent us a great many dishes of rice and sour milk. The whole tribe of the Kél-antsár is rather numerous, numbering upwards of 1000 full-grown men, but they are scattered over a wide extent of country, reaching from Gógó to Rás el má, and even into the interior of Tagánet, the district between Timbúktu and Ázawád. We had intended to pitch our tent here, but we found the ground so extremely dry and hard that it would not hold the pegs.

Soon after starting in the afternoon, on descending from the eminence we had a fine view of the river, two branches of which united behind an island. But the scenery soon changed, and, leaving the river at some distance, proceeding first over sandy ground, and then crossing a large backwater which was at present tolerably dry, and following a large herd of cattle that were returning from their pasture grounds, we reached another considerable ámazágh of the Kél-antsár, and encamped between them and the green swampy shore of the river. The place is called Zár- ho; but in the river lies the island of Kúrkozáy, which has obtained a kind of celebrity on account of a sanguinary battle which was fought there thirty-five years previous to the time of my visit, between the Tawárek on the one side, and the Songhay and Ermá or Rumá on the other. The people here seemed to be very rich in cattle, and supplied us with an enormous quantity of fresh milk.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, May 24th.]

While we were loading our camels, the sky was overcast with thick clouds, and heavy rain evidently fell in Áribínda, while with us the strong wind prevented the clouds from discharging their contents. I have repeatedly remarked upon the quantity of rain that falls on the southern side of the river compared with the northern. Dry as the country here appeared to be, we this day became more than ever entangled among the numerous backwaters which make the passage along the river so difficult, although they afford the richest pasturage to the cattle. The fault was that of our guide, who directed our course too far south from east, till, on becoming aware of our error, we had to cross two very considerable grassy creeks, the first having three and a half feet of water, and the last being still deeper. The tall rank grass of the býrgu entangled the feet of the horses, and caused them to fall, to the great discomfiture of their riders.

Having at length succeeded in crossing this double creek, we had still to traverse another grassy inlet, joining it from the north side, after which, all these swampy low lands uniting together, formed a very extensive fáddama, at the broadest part about two or three miles wide, the whole surface of the water being covered with water-lilies (Nymphæa Lotus). Beyond this extensive backwater, on a grassy island of the river, lies the hamlet Tabálit, and at a short distance from it another ádabay, of the name of Ábaten. Here the extensive backwaters after a little while cease, and allow the river itself to approach the sandy downs, which in this spot rise to a considerable height. They thus afforded myself and the Sheikh’s nephew a fine view over the river, which here forms a “large island,” designated by this very name, “autel- makkóren,” or “imakkóren;” it often forms the camping-ground for Tawárek tribes. The sandy downs, however, soon gave way to swampy backwaters, the indented outline of which gave to our march a very indistinct direction, and formed a remarkable contrast to the dreary rising-ground on our left. The difficulties, however, after a while became more serious than ever, for we suddenly found ourselves on a narrow dyke, destined to keep back the water for the cultivation of rice, situated in the midst of a swamp. For the people of Timbúktu, who were brought up in the swampy grounds, were not aware of any difficulty until we approached the opposite shore, when we found that the dyke was intersected by a narrow channel, over which it was dangerous to leap our horses; and although my own horse accomplished the feat with success, many of the others refused to do so, so that most of the people preferred making their way through the swamp. As for myself, it was highly interesting to me, thus to become aware of all the various features of this whole formation, although for the sake of comfort we ought to have kept further inland.

When we at length left this swampy ground behind us, everything bore testimony to the fact, that we were approaching another little centre of life in this neglected tract, which, from a certain degree of civilisation, has almost relapsed into a state of total barbarism. Dykes made for the cultivation of rice, and places where the býrgu, the rank grass of the river, was passed through a slight fire in order to obtain honey from the stalks thus deprived of the small leaves, were succeeded by small fields of tobacco and wheat. Nay, even barley was seen, an almost unheard of article in the whole of these regions. Meanwhile, the deep channels made for irrigating these grounds showed a degree of industry which I had not seen for a long time. At present, of course, they were dry, the stubble of the wheat and barley alone remaining in the fields, irrigation being employed only during the highest state of the river, when the water closely approaches these grounds.

Here, where an open branch of the river was seen dividing into two smaller arms, we obtained a view of the town of Bamba, or rather of its date-palms, which waved their feathery foliage over a sandy promontory. However, the sky was by no means clear. Soon we reached this spot, and I was highly delighted at seeing again some fine specimens of the date- palm, having scarcely beheld a single one since leaving Kanó. The trees on the western side of the village are formed into groups, and in their neglected state, with the old dry leaves hanging down from under the fresh ones, formed a very picturesque spectacle. On the east side, also, where we were encamped, close to a magnificent tamarind, were two tall slender specimens of this majestic tree; but altogether there were scarcely more than forty full-grown date-palms. They are said to furnish a good kind of fruit, but, not having tasted them myself, I cannot give an opinion as to their quality.

The village, at present, consists of about two hundred huts, built of mattings, and oval-shaped; for, besides a small mosque, there are only two or three clay buildings, or rather magazines, one of which belongs to Bábá Áhmed, a younger brother of the Sheikh El Bakáy, who generally resides here; at present, however, he was absent.

Such is the condition of this place at present; but there cannot be any doubt that it was of much more importance three centuries ago, as it is repeatedly mentioned in the history of Songhay; and its situation—at a point where the river, from having been spread at least during a great part of the year over a surface of several miles, is shut in by steep banks and compressed at the narrowest point to from 600 to 700 yards—must have been of the highest importance, at a time when the whole of the region along this large navigable river was comprised under the rule of a mighty kingdom of great extent, and even afterwards, when it had become a province of Morocco.

This was evidently the reason why the place was fortified at that time, and probably it had formerly a strong fortress, constantly occupied by a garrison, which accounts for the Tawárek, even at the present day, calling the whole place by the name of Kásba. It also serves to explain the fact, that the whole population of the village, even at the present time, consists of Rumá, the progeny of the musketeers who conquered this province for the Emperor of Morocco. But, while in former times they were the ruling race, at present they drag on a rather miserable existence, the protection of the Kunta being scarcely sufficient to defend them against the daily contributions levied upon them by the overbearing rulers of the desert. A short time previously the chief Sadáktu had driven away almost all their cattle.

While awaiting the camels, I sat down on a cliff overhanging the steep bank, which here was about twenty-five feet in height, and enjoyed the splendid view over that great watery highroad of West-Central Africa. The waves of the river were raised by a strong wind, and offered considerable resistance to some light boats endeavouring to reach the opposite shore. My companions soon observed the interest which I took in the scene, and my amiable friend, the Sheikh’s nephew, joined me here to enjoy the pleasant prospect. He was glad to find that, since we were fairly proceeding on our journey, my mind had become far easier and more cheerful. He often spoke with me about my happy return to my native country; and I expressed to him the wish that he might accompany me, and witness for himself some of the achievements of Europeans. He had been to this place several times before, and had always taken great interest in the difference in the nature of the river, which, from spreading out over flat swampy shores with numerous backwaters, with a few exceptions, here becomes compressed between high banks; and he again repeated to me his account of the great narrowing of the river at Tósaye, where a stone might easily be thrown from one bank to the other, while at the same time the river was so deep, that a line made from the narrow strips of a whole bullock’s skin was not sufficient to reach the bottom.

While thus cheerfully enjoying the interesting scenery, we were joined by several Rumá inhabitants of the village, who rather disturbed our silent contemplation. But their own character was not wholly uninteresting; for several of them were distinguished from the common Songhay people by the glossy lustre and the lighter hue of their skin; their features also were more regular, and their eyes more expressive. All of them wore, as an outward token of their descent, a red bandage about two inches wide over the shawl which covered the upper part of their face, and a leathern belt hanging loose over the right shoulder, ready to be fastened round the waist at the first signal of danger. Several of them were also distinguished by their better style of dress, which betokened a greater degree of cleanliness and comfort. As for smoking, all the inhabitants along the shores of this great river seemed to be equally fond of it. The pipe is scarcely ever out of their mouth. While smoking, they keep their mouth covered, after the fashion which they have learnt from the Tawárek. The head of the pipe sticks out from below the shawl.

At length the camels arrived. They had been called back by mistake from the upper road which they were pursuing, into the difficult swampy ground which we ourselves had traversed. A large comfortable dwelling of matting, or “búge,” as it is called, was erected on the sandhills, for the Sheikh and his companions; but I had my tent pitched near the fine group of date palms, and from this point I made the subjoined sketch, which will impart to the reader a tolerably correct idea of the place.

Here we remained the following day, when I was roused at a very early hour by the crowing of the cocks in Bamba, which could not but recall to my mind the fate of the enterprising but unfortunate Mungo Park, who is said by the natives to have stayed here a couple of hours in order to provide himself with fowls, and thus to have given leisure to the Tawárek, lower down the river, to collect together and impede his passage; a story which is also related with regard to Gógó and some other places along the river; though it is more probable that his chief reason for making a halt near the principal places along the river, was to open communication with the natives, and more particularly in order to make astronomical observations.

Rising at an early hour, while the sky was beautifully clear, I enjoyed an hour’s pleasing reverie on my favourite rock of the previous day, overhanging the river. Although in full agitation the day before, this morning its surface was unruffled, and several boats were crossing over towards the island.

I afterwards called upon my protector. One of his younger brothers, Sídi Ílemín, had the preceding day come to pay him a visit as he was passing through this country, and when I was ascending the sandy hill, on the slope of which their matting dwelling had been erected, he came out to meet me, and complimented me in a very cheerful manner. He was a respectable man, with a very pleasing countenance, and had with him his son, a most beautiful boy of seven years.

I could not help thinking what a noble family this was. They were all sons of Sídi Mohammed el Kunti, the chief who received Major Laing in Ázawád. First, Mukhtár, Bakáy’s elder brother, who succeeded to his father when that chief had succumbed to an epidemic fever which raged in Ázawád, just at the time of Major Laing’s arrival, and who died in 1847; then Sídi Mohammed, a man with a truly princely demeanour; then El Bakáy himself; next, ʿAbidín, likewise well deserving the distinguished position of a chief, although he differed in politics from El Bakáy; then Hámma, a man with whom I did not become personally acquainted, but who was represented by all as a noble man; Sídi Ílemín; Bábá Áhmed; and Sídi Ámmer. This latter is the youngest, but certainly not the least noble of the family. While on a visit to Sókoto, together with his brother El Bakáy, he made a deeper impression upon the people, and obtained their favour more generally, than his elder brother. Álawáte is the only member of this family, who, with the exception of his learning, does not seem to contribute much to its honour; but, even in his case, we must take into account the customs of the country, and not judge of him according to our views of nobility.

The light dwelling which had been erected for my protector, simple as it was, was spacious and elegant, affording a very cool resting-place during the heat of the day. It was of an oblong shape, measuring about 20 feet by 9, with two doors opposite each other, a large angáreb forming a comfortable resting-place. The mats of which these huts are constructed are very large and excellently woven, the huts being supported by a framework of slender bushes. But the hut, although very pleasant, was too crowded, and, during the hot hours of noon, I retired to a group of magnificent gerredh trees, which overshaded the cemetery, lying at the southern side of the village, and, interwoven by a dense growth of creepers, afforded a most agreeable shade, such as I had never before observed in the case of this tree.

Together with the adjoining tobacco fields, which were just exhibiting their freshest green, this cemetery formed a striking contrast to the barren country further north, which, although broken by a dhaye, or pond, of considerable size, and excellently adapted for the cultivation of rice, has neither trees nor bushes, with the exception of two or three isolated date-palms surrounding the border of the pond.

We had considerable difficulty in obtaining from the inhabitants a small supply of rice and butter, as they asserted that their means were so reduced that they were sustaining themselves entirely on býrgu, or native grass; but I had reason to suspect that they made this statement through fear of the Tawárek. At all events, tobacco was the only article they offered for sale, the tobacco of Bamba, called “sherikíye,” being far-famed along the Niger, and much sought after, although it is not so good as the “tábowé,” the tobacco of Égedesh. Of býrgu, they have an unlimited supply; and I tasted here the honey water which they prepare from it, but found it insipid, besides being slightly purgative, not unlike the maddi, or góreba water, in Háusa.

[Footnote 28: Áhmed Bábá, in Journal of Leipsic Oriental Society, vol. ix. p. 547.]

[Footnote 29: See the highly interesting account of this place, the great commercial entrepôt between Ghána in the west and Tademékka in the east, in El Bekrí, “Déscription de l’Afrique,” p. 180. The express mention of the ants which he here makes is very important, as, in coming from Timbúktu, the first ants were observed by us near Hendi-kíri.]

CHAP. LXXVI.

THE DESERT. — COUNTRY ALONG THE BORDER OF THE RIVER. — GREATEST NARROWING. — SOUTH-EASTERLY BEND.

A slight fall of rain, and then a thunder-storm, which, however, passed over our heads without discharging itself, delayed our departure in the afternoon; and the camels having been sent to a great distance for a little pasture, it was past five o’clock when we left our camping- ground. A numerous crowd of Rumá, Songhay, and Ímóshagh having assembled to witness my departure, I distributed a good many small presents among them, reserving the few articles of value which I still possessed for mightier chiefs.

Having crossed, after a march of two miles, a backwater much overgrown with grass, and at present almost dry, we had the fáddama or bot-há of the river close on our right, while the open water was at about an hour’s march distance. Here a considerable amount of cultivation was seen, a good many grounds for corn and tobacco being laid out and connected with the river by channels, through which the water during the highest state of the inundation approached closely, and rendered irrigation very easy; but unfortunately a heavy thunder-storm, rising in a tremendous battery of clouds, and enveloping the whole country in a dense mass of sand, did not allow of any exact observations being made. The many channels which here intersected our road, proved a disagreeable hindrance in our hurried march, and although the clouds passed by without bringing any rain, yet darkness set in before we had reached our destination, and to my great disappointment prevented my noticing the whole character of the district.

But the inconvenience soon increased when we entered upon the swampy, grassy border of the river; for although a small fire, on the dry shore to our left, held out to my companions, who were travelling almost without supplies, the prospect of a rather poor supper, a long line of fires in the midst of the river promised them better fare. Without regarding, therefore, the difficulties of the ground and the darkness of the night, we made straight for them. My friends were not even deterred, when we reached a narrow dyke scarcely fit for one horse, and in great decay, and which the guide declared to be the only path leading through a sheet of water separating us from the encampment. Thus, we boldly entered upon this dyke, but we had only proceeded a few hundred yards, when it was pronounced, even by these people, so well accustomed to an amphibious life, to be totally impracticable, so that we were obliged to retrace our steps. While engaged in this most dangerous proceeding, my servant, the Gatróni, met with a serious accident, falling, with his horse, down the dyke into the water; and although, with his native agility, he succeeded in extricating himself, with a few contusions, from his unpleasant situation, we had great difficulty in getting the horse out from the hollow into which it had fallen, my companions asserting that it was dead, and wanting to leave it behind. At length we got away from the dyke, and finding a ford through the water, we reached the encampment, which was pitched on a narrow neck of grassy land, and completely dazzled us with the glare of its many fires, coming, as we did, out of the darkness. From the opposite side of the river, two hamlets of Songhay, called Inzámmen and Takankámte, were visible likewise by their fires.

The encampment belonged to some Kél e’ Súk, who manifested a rather thievish disposition; and, although not altogether inhospitable, they were unable to treat my companions well, as in the swampy lowland there was an entire want of firewood. It was one of those encampments which contributed in a great measure to ruin my health, partly in consequence of the heavy dew which fell during the night. Meanwhile my servant, who was a most faithful person, was searching the greater part of the night for his pistols, which in his fall he had lost in the swamp.

[Sidenote: Friday, May 26th.]

While my companions still lagged behind in order to indemnify themselves for their lost supper by a good breakfast, I set off at a tolerably early hour, in order to get out of the swampy ground; and fearing lest we might again be entangled in these interminable low grounds, we kept at a considerable distance from the river over the gentle sandy downs, bare at first, but afterwards clad with a considerable quantity of dry grass. But some of our companions, who overtook us, would not allow us to pursue our north-easterly direction, and led us back again to the border of a broad swampy sheet of water, which is called Terárart, and at this spot formed a shallow water full of water-plants and geese, but gradually widening to a very extensive swamp, which again increased to a large open branch. The river, however, which was now almost at its lowest level, must present a very different aspect during the highest state of the inundation, when the downs of snow-white sand, which at present separated the principal trunk from the swamp, must appear like a narrow sandbank in the midst of the water.

Behind these downs, but separated from the main branch by a smaller creek, called “the false river,” Eghírrëu-n-báho, lies the hamlet Égedesh, which at the present season was deserted, the inhabitants being scattered over the islands in the river. The three villages Garbáme, Ém- n-Tabórak, and Nshérifen, are situated on its opposite southern bank.

Exchanging at this remarkable spot our east north-easterly direction for an east south-easterly one, we encamped after a march of three miles and a half, in the shade of a dense belt of underwood which girded its shores, and after a short time, we were here joined by El Bakáy. A little more than a mile beyond this place, at the downs called Ghadír, this large backwater joins the river, and here, when we pursued our march in the afternoon, we ascended for a while a higher level, consisting of sandstone rock in a state of great decomposition; but after a march of three miles, again descended to its shores, the river being here full of green islands, with plenty of fine cattle. Two miles further on, we encamped in a place called Tewílaten, or Stewílaten, at the side of a rather poor encampment of the Kél-Tebankórit. Notwithstanding their poor condition, the people slaughtered two oxen on our behalf.

I had this day still further cause to feel satisfied that we were travelling along the north, and not along the south side of the river, for while we ourselves had but a slight shower, besides summer lightning the whole of the evening, in the course of the afternoon a considerable fall of rain took place beyond the river in Áribínda.

Before we started I began conversing with the people of the encampment (the chief of whom, a man of renowned valour, is called Hammaláti) in a cheerful manner. Whereupon they praised me as an excellent man, but made at the same time the candid avowal that the preceding night, when I did not speak a word, they felt a great antipathy towards me.

Having proceeded at a tolerable rate as far as this place, we here once more relapsed into our usual slow mode of progress; and after a short march of scarcely three miles over a ground strewn with pebbles and small stones, and clad only with scanty vegetation, we encamped close to the steep bank which descended towards the river opposite the island of Zamgoy, for here we were told was the residence of Sadáktu, the chief who had levied such heavy contributions upon the inhabitants of Bamba. As the country itself did not present any features of interest, it was some recompense to me for the delay we met with in this place, that the character of the river was remarkable; and in order to enjoy it as much as possible, I prepared myself a resting place on the slope of the bank, which was thickly overgrown with small trees.

It is here that the beginning of the rocky district through which the river takes its course is first perceptible. The western end of a small island is entirely surrounded by large granite blocks, which have given to the island the remarkable name of Tahónt-n-éggish, clearly indicating that even the natives themselves regard this place, for him who comes down the river, as the “entrance-rock,” or the beginning of the rocky district.

The island of Zamgoy lies nearer to the southern shore, and seems to be of considerable extent, densely clothed with trees, and containing a small hamlet, or ádabay. Besides the view of the river, and a walk now and then over the desert ground in our neighbourhood, where I observed the ruins of some stone dwellings, I had plenty of occupation during this and the three following days which we remained here, in conversing with the natives.

Sadáktu himself was very unwell, and greatly wanted my medical assistance; but after I had made him feel the efficacy of my medicines so strongly that he declared every evil to be removed from his body, he did not reward my zeal with so much as a drop of milk. I therefore could not help observing, to the great delight of his subjects, that he was the most niggardly chief I had ever met with. There were, however, others who were more social and communicative, if not more liberal, than this chief. There was, first, a wealthy and good-looking man of the name of Jemíl, of the Kél-Burrum or the people of Burrum, who evidently originate in a mixture of free Songhay people and Ímóshagh, and he himself, seemed to unite in a certain degree, the qualities of these different nations, while his rich dress and his embonpoint proved that he was not an austere inhabitant of the desert. A great deal of trouble was caused me by another man of the name of Simsim, the son of Sídi Ámmer, and the eldest of seven brothers, a very rich Ámóshagh, who was totally blind, but who, nevertheless, expected me to restore his sight; and it really seemed as if my friend El Bakáy confirmed him in this belief, in order to obtain from him some handsome presents for himself.

This person also had the stately appearance peculiar to all these easterly Tawárek, who seem to have enriched themselves with the spoil of the native Songhay population, the latter having in a great measure been reduced by them to the condition of serfs. Almost all of them had a very proud bearing, but nevertheless, upon nearer acquaintance, they proved to be of a very cheerful disposition; and although of a wild character and of warlike propensities, they have an easy temper, and are not difficult to manage.

The poor inhabitants of Bamba, from whom Sadáktu had taken seventy cows and ten slaves, joined us here, in the endeavour to recover their property. They earnestly begged me to be the mediator between them and that hostile chief; and I was very glad when, after a good deal of dispute, the chief returned half of the spoil. It was here also that I learnt that the whole population of Áír, under the command of Háj ʿAbdúwa, had gained a great victory over the Dínnik, or Awelímmiden-wén- Bodhál, and the Aréwan, or Kél-gerés. The tribe of the Kél-fadáye enjoy a great name in this region; and it is evident that, in former times, they occupied a much more conspicuous position than they do at present. Even El Bakáy himself had taken a wife from that tribe; and I was also informed here that they lay claim to a descent from sherífs.

We had a storm almost every day during our stay in this place; but although we ourselves had very little else than a disagreeable sand- wind, there seemed to be a very heavy fall of rain in Áribínda. In one of these thunderstorms we nearly lost our camels, which, headed by one of their companions that had lately come from Ázawád, were making straight for that district, their beloved home, and had proceeded a distance of some miles, before they were overtaken.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, May 31st.]

At length we pursued our journey, but only for a short march of two hours; and I was so disgusted at the repeated delays and sham travelling, that I prayed earnestly that the Almighty would speedily deliver me from this sort of bondage. Throughout our march, the bare desert, here consisting of stony ground, torn by many small channels, closely crept up to the fertile bed of the river, where a green swampy lowland girded the present reduced sheet of water. Amongst the stones with which the ground was covered, fine white and red striped rock was discernible; and I observed another island, with a rocky point, towards the west.

The ground where we encamped was bleak in the extreme, without any shade, although a few hundred yards in front of us there was a fine grove of gerredh; but as these trees adorned a cemetery, my companions, from superstitious motives, were too much afraid to choose that place for their encampment. Although our camping-ground was excessively hot, I was agreeably surprised to find the water of the river so pleasantly cool at a time when the sun was high, and could only attribute this phenomenon to the rocky character of the channel and to its considerable depth. Nevertheless, crocodiles, as well as river-horses, were numerous.

In this unprotected ground we remained not only this but the following day, although the place was as uncomfortable for the people, who were almost scorched by the heat of the sun, as it was detrimental to the animals, who found nothing to eat here. The Sheikh had gone in the morning to visit Sadáktu, in the island of Zamgoy, and from thence did not join us until late in the evening. It was one of the hottest days we had had; and it was here that, about noon, we discovered in my tent a large, black, poisonous arachnæa, or spider, the body of which measured almost two inches in diameter, and whose like my companions from Timbúktu had never seen. The Tawárek were so disgusted at the sight, that while I was looking attentively at it, after we had killed it, they threw it hastily away with their swords, so that I did not see it again; but they told me that it was the most dangerous and abominable creature to be found in these regions.

The excessive heat rendered a thunderstorm which we had in the afternoon of the second day highly acceptable, especially as the heavy gale was followed by a light rain, which greatly relieved the burning heat of the sandy soil. It was highly amusing to me to observe also, this time, that although a large leathern tent had been pitched for the Sheikh, nevertheless, as was always the case when a thunderstorm arose, everybody hastened to carry his treasures, especially the saddles and books, under cover of my small European tent, which had now withstood more than four years’ exposure to the weather, and was mended and patched in such a manner that the original material was scarcely discernible.

[Sidenote: Friday, June 2nd.]

We at length left this place, but only to move on a distance of seven or eight miles, to an encampment of a wealthy man of the name of Sídi Ílemín, who, although belonging to the tribe of the Fúlbe, was living amongst the Tawárek, and had been settled in the place for a great many years. The contrast between the open river, bordered by the green grassy lowlands, which at present had been laid bare by the retiring waters, and the bleak desert which closely approached it, was very remarkable, especially a short distance before we reached the encampment, where an extensive sandy eminence excluded for a while the view of the river, and with a few scattered bushes of the poisonous fernán, and the short herbage called “ellob,” made one fancy oneself transported into the heart of the desert.

Along the former part of our road the low shore of the river had been clothed with a profusion of excellent býrgu, but here there was none, and the poor camels again fared very badly. In the whole of this district along the river, where trees are very scanty, the camel is reduced to the diet of býrgu, although it by no means agrees with animals accustomed to the food of the young acacia trees and the dry herbage of the desert. All circumstances considered, my camels were in a very bad condition, and there was good reason for my kind friend and protector looking about for some fresh animals to enable me to reach more favoured regions. He therefore determined to set out from this point to the nearest of his “kissib,” or herds of camels, while we were to wait for him at a place called Tin-sherífen.

The river, which, in its present state, was about 900 yards from our camp, had here a very shallow, and not at all an imposing appearance, although a few miles below it enters a very rocky district, where it is enclosed by steep banks and broken by islets and cliffs. Four boats were lying on the shore. The place was called Igómaren.

The encampment of Sídi Ílemín was large, consisting of very spacious leathern tents, where Tawárek and Fúlbe, and some Arabs also, were living together in peaceful community. Although they are tolerably wealthy, they have only asses, and no horses. A good many Tawárek joined us here the day of our arrival, and, while I rewarded the most respectable amongst them with a small present of some kind or other, I had some difficulty in satisfying a more powerful lord of the name of Míki, the son of Elésa; and found it still more difficult to satisfy his companion, or “énhad,” who, as is very often the case in Europe, raised his pretensions much higher than his master.

The blind Simsim also accompanied us to this place, and troubled me not a little with begging a remedy for his blindness. Among other chiefs, there was one whose name seemed to me rather remarkable, as he called himself El Ísfaháni; but what he or his ancestors had to do with the famous town of Ísfahán, I could not make out. Sídi Ílemín treated us well with a number of large dishes of rice, but the food being prepared without any salt, I was not able to enjoy it, and was the more grateful at being furnished in the evening with a rich supply of milk.

[Sidenote: Saturday, June 3rd.]

While my protector directed his steps towards the desert, I, with the greater part of his followers, continued my journey along the banks of the river, which had now almost become a second home to me, and with its many backwaters, islands, and cliffs, afforded me a never failing source of interest. About half a mile beyond our encampment we passed the site of a former settlement or dwelling place, after which the sandy downs receded a little from the bank, affording comfortable ground for a good number of Tawárek encampments. Having then left on our right an extensive swampy lowland, which, during the highest state of the river, becomes inundated, we reached the beginning of the rocky district, through which the river has to pass. After a very short march, we encamped in a place called Himberímme, on account of the indisposition of my friend Mohammed ben Khottár.

The slope where we halted was very handsomely adorned with fine shady tabórak, and the river was here free from rocks, being divided into two branches by a low sand bank, while a mile higher up a mighty ledge of granite rocks projected into the water. But about 1000 yards below our halting place, the river presented a very wild aspect, a considerable rocky island, consisting of immense granite blocks, together with a rocky ledge projecting from the high bank, shutting in half the breadth of the river, and forcing it, with a direction from S. 30° E. to N. 30° W., into a channel of probably not more than 350 yards broad. This remarkable place, where the river, when it is full, must form a very powerful current, is called Tin-álshiden.

The heat of the day having passed by, we continued our march, cutting off the bend of the river over a ground which was at first bare and destitute of vegetation, but after a while became overgrown with stunted talha trees, a few siwák, and a great profusion of retem; till, after a march of two miles, the river again approached on our right, being here free from rocks and bordered by a grassy lowland richly clad with the famous býrgu. On our left, a few tobacco plantations gave proof of a certain degree of industry on the part of the natives, although on this side only a nomadic encampment was to be seen, but on the opposite bank a hamlet appeared. The whole of this district belongs to Tin-sherífen.

As the river takes here a very winding course, meandering along between steep banks, we again left it at some distance on our right, ascending from a low swampy inlet upon higher ground, where we passed another Tawárek encampment, and then, as darkness was setting in, we again descended to the green shore, where the river seemed to be obstructed by islands. Parallel with the bank, a shallow grassy swamp stretched along, and from beyond the southern bank, a little higher up, a village was seen. On the largest of the islands, which was at the same time the nearest to our side, was the residence of Kára, the father of a young man named Sála, one of the pupils of El Bakáy. This was the reason why my companions, notwithstanding the darkness of the evening, and although the island was at present separated from the mainland by a deep channel, entertained the absurd idea of crossing over to the latter. It was only after much uncertainty, and a great deal of dispute, that we decided upon encamping on the narrow neck between the swamp and the river.

In this place we remained the four following days, my protector not returning until the third day, and my patience was again put to a severe trial. But, altogether, the stay here was not so uninteresting, as we received a great many visits from the inhabitants of this and the neighbouring districts. First, there came Kára, the governor of the island, a stately-looking old man, dressed in a fine white tobe, with a white shawl round his head. Having entered into conversation with me, he stated, without the subject being brought forward by myself, that about fifty years ago, a Christian had come down the river in a large boat with a white tent, and the river being then full, had passed without any accident the rocky passage ahead of us. But he added that the Kél- terárart had attacked him at Zamgoy. Park had passed this place in the morning, while he (Kára) was encamped with his people on the sandy downs of Áribínda. This chief himself, although he was not at all hospitable, had really something in his demeanour which might indicate a descent from a nobler stock, but the rest of the inhabitants of the island had much the same appearance as the less noble tribes of the Tawárek in general. However, there is no doubt that the name of the whole district, Tin-sherífen, is taken from the supposed origin of these people—from sherífs. And here in this district, as well as in the neighbouring one of Burrum, where the great river, after having made this remarkable bend into the heart of the desert, changes its easterly course into a south- easterly one, we must evidently look for the earliest Mohammedan settlers along the Niger.

I here also first came into more intimate relation with that remarkable tribe the Kél e’ Súk, who seem to deserve a great deal of attention among these nomadic tribes, although I am not yet able to elucidate all the points connected with their history, for they themselves take very little interest in historical facts, and if there exist written records they are not generally known. But this much is certain, that these Kél e’ Súk have been so called from a place, Súk, or at least generally called Súk[30], situated at the distance of five days’ journey from this point, and six from Gógó, which seems to have been a very considerable place in former times, but was destroyed in the latter half of the fifteenth century, by Sonni ʿAlí, the great predecessor of the still greater conqueror Háj Mohammed Áskíá. The original name of this place I did not succeed in making out, but it is no doubt that very place which, by El Bekrí[31] and other Arab geographers, after the name of the tribe, has been called Tademékket, and which, till the middle of the seventeenth century, ruled over this region.

This large and well-built town appears to have been the centre of various tribes, although I can scarcely conceive that my informants were right, when they asserted that their ancestors had been living there, together with the Hogár and the Kél-owí, as from this statement, if it were true, we should have in this place a much more remarkable example of a community founded by several Berber tribes together, than is afforded by the history of Ágades. Be this as it may, the name of Súk has settled upon this tribe, who still form quite a separate body, being distinguished from the neighbouring tribes for their learning and peaceable pursuits.

Besides several respectable men of this tribe, I received a visit also from Nássaru, a daughter of one of their chiefs named Khozématen. She was one of the finest women that I saw in this country. Her decent apparel contributed not a little to increase her beauty, for over her under-gown she wore an upper-garment of red and black silk, in alternate stripes, which she occasionally drew over her head. Her features were remarkable for their soft expression and regularity, but her person rather inclined to corpulency, which is highly esteemed by the Tawárek. Seeing that I took an interest in her, she, half-jokingly, proposed that I should marry her; and I declared myself ready to take her with me if one of my rather weak camels should be found able to support her weight. As a mark of distinction I presented her with a looking-glass, which I was always accustomed to give to the most handsome woman in an encampment, the rest receiving nothing but needles. She returned the next day with some of her relations, who were equally distinguished by their comeliness, and who were anxious to obtain a glimpse of me, not less than of the Sheikh El Bakáy. These noble Tawárek ladies furnished a remarkable example of the extreme liberty which the females belonging to this tribe enjoy; and I was greatly astonished to see the pipe pass continually from their mouths to those of the men, and from the latter back again into the mouths of the women. In other respects, I can only hope that they surpass the female portion of the population of Tademékka, of whose virtue El Bekrí speaks in rather doubtful terms.

Less agreeable than the company of these people was the arrival of the blind Simsim, who, it seems, had been rather disappointed in his expectation of having his sight restored, although my friend had contrived to get from him a present of a camel and a female slave. We were here also at length joined by Áhmed Wadáwi, the principal pupil of the Sheikh, whom I scarcely expected to see again; but being fully aware of the slow and deliberate character of his master, he felt convinced that he could never come too late. Altogether I was glad that he had arrived, for although apt to make great pretensions, and being inspired with too great zeal for his creed, he was nevertheless a cheerful and good-natured man, and, on account of his considerable learning and his knowledge of the Tawárek chiefs, might be of great service to me after having separated from the Sheikh. He had, besides, acquired some useful experience with regard to the difference between the straightforward and trustworthy character of a Christian, and the treachery and cunning of an Arab; for having in the beginning constantly taken the part of my former guide, Weled Ámmer Waláti, against myself, he had been cheated in return for his friendship by that rascal, and in order to get from him what was due to him, had been obliged to pursue him to Áribínda. He brought the news from Timbúktu that the rebel chief Ákhbi, whom we had been unable to persuade to return to his former allegiance, was collecting an army against Alkúttabu.

The whole time of our stay at Tin-sherífen the weather was excessively hot, the heat being felt the more severely, as there was not the slightest shade near our encampment; and as my tent was almost insupportably hot, in order to obtain a little shade, I wandered to a considerable distance up the slope which rose behind our encampment, and here lay down under a small hájilíj, or tabórak. From this spot I had an interesting view over the river, which, on account of its peculiar features, here deserved my full attention, and even more than I was able at the time to bestow upon it, as, in the absence of my protector, my companions were rather anxious about my safety. My young and cheerful friend, Mohammed ben Khottár, was suffering all this time from severe indisposition, so that I had no one to rove about with me. A little lower down, the road recedes from the bank of the river for a short distance; and hence I am not able to lay down the river, between this place and Tósaye, with that minuteness of detail which it deserves, in order to facilitate navigation. Under other circumstances, I should have made a special drawing of this remarkable locality on a larger scale; but the assertion of the natives, that Park in his large boat (His Majesty’s schooner Joliba) had passed through in December or January without accident, reassured me perfectly. Besides, as I myself had to travel all along the bank of the river by land, I had to take care not to excite too much the suspicions of the natives.

From this spot I had a clear prospect over the point where the river issuing forth from between the islands is shut in by two masses of rock, called, I think, Shabór[32] and Barrór, which obstructed it like a sort of iron gate, although the passage between them, especially at high water, appeared to be open and clear. In summer, however, during the lowest state of the river, the difficulty of the navigation is greatly increased by the sandbank which is formed a little above this strait between the islands and the bank. On the island where the chief Kála resided, also, a mass of rock, which at times in the sun light of the afternoon appeared like a snow-white boulder of quartz rock, started forth like an artificial terrace. Higher up, the river was encompassed in its winding course by steep banks; but, in one spot on the opposite shore, where the sandy downs formed a recess, a low grassy headland or island was formed, which at the time was enlivened by numbers of horses, cattle, and sheep, and was adorned by stately trees, especially a fine group of dúm-palms; for dúm-palms apparently begin to prevail here, and lower down the river are found occasionally in great numbers. The slope itself, from whence I overlooked this scenery, consisted entirely of rock. Quartz and micaslate were visible everywhere, and an uninterrupted ledge of the latter mineral set right across with an inclination towards east. The evenings were beautiful, and nothing afforded me greater delight than to walk along the fine sandy beach far into the river. During the lowest state of the water, this beach forms a junction between the main land and the island where Kála resided.

Our attention was also attracted to some young zangway, the small species of alligator, which every evening raised their cry from the swamp where they were left by their dams. It sounds like the barking of a dog, and it appeared to us as if they were bred purposely in this backwater, in order that they might not fall a prey to some larger animal in the river.

[Footnote 30: The reader need not be under the impression that the name “súk” indicates Arabic influence, for the word is of the most extensive Semitic range.]

[Footnote 31: El Bekrí, who is the only reliable authority, in the edition of de Slane, p. 181, et seq. The distance of nine days from Gógó, according to El Bekrí, is to be regarded as the rate for heavily laden caravans, corresponding well to six days of light camels or mehára. See the itinerary from Tawát to this place, in the Appendix. Of the (erroneous) derivation of the name of the town, I have spoken on a former occasion. See Vol. IV. p. 498.]

[Footnote 32: I am not quite certain whether Shabór may not be the name of the island and not of the rock.]

CHAP. LXXVII.

TÓSAYE, OR THE NARROWING OF THE RIVER. — BURRUM; ANCIENT RELATION TO EGYPT. — GREAT SOUTH-SOUTH-EASTERLY REACH.

At length, in the course of the 8th, my protector returned from his herd of camels, or, as the Arabs call it, “kissib,” bringing with him seven fresh camels. He was accompanied by a nobleman of the country, and a near relative of his, of the name of Sídi ʿAlí. Soon after his arrival, he came expressly to ask me, whether one of our steamboats would be able to cross this rocky passage, and I told him that, as far as I had been able to investigate the character of the locality from this point, I thought there was not much difficulty for a small boat or launch, at least during the highest state of the river. In the evening, he sent me a small bullock to cut up for our journey, and a short time afterwards a camel, in order to supply the place of the most exhausted of my animals, and it now appeared as if we were fully prepared to pursue our journey at a more accelerated rate.

[Sidenote: Friday, June 9th.]

Having taken leave of all the new friends whose acquaintance I had made here, I started at a rather late hour, first keeping along the shore, but after having proceeded about 1400 yards, turning away and with a north-easterly direction entering the stony slope of the desert plateau, which here consisted of black sandstone in a state of decomposition. At this spot, where I was obliged to keep away from the bank, the great rocky ledge, to which Barrór belongs, crosses the river. This rock not being illumined to-day by the sun, exhibited the same black character which is peculiar to the whole locality, and there is no doubt that it intercepts the navigation for larger boats during a great part of the year.

The bare rocky slope was succeeded by sandy downs, which surrounded and enclosed small irregular vales, the bottom of which was formed of small black stones. A little further on we passed the locality called Tin- rássen, where Sadáktu had once vanquished a superior force led by Ákhbi, who, notwithstanding the close relation which subsisted between them, had come to attack him. The women, hurrying forth from the encampment, had met their kinsfolk with bare breasts, which they held forth to them as having suckled their kindred, and implored them, for the sake of their near relationship, not to shed the blood of their own kinsmen. But this appeal for mercy being without effect, Sadáktu and his handful of men, inspired with fear for the lives of their wives and children, and fighting with the courage of despair, had beaten the superior force of his arrogant relation, and killed nine free men of his tribe.

A little more than half a mile beyond Tin-rássen we again reached the river, at that remarkable place called Tósaye, or Tósé, where the noble Niger is compressed between steep banks to a breadth perhaps of not more than 150 yards, but of such a depth that, as I have before observed, the bottom has not been found by the natives. Here the Sheikh, who, as in general, had slept till late in the morning, overtook us, and seemed much interested when I told him that I thought a small strong built steamer might safely cross this obstructed passage, as in the case of the current being too strong, it might be assisted by chains fastened to the rocks. The locality is of the greatest importance, on account of the intercourse between the desert and the province of Libtáko, as the Arabs of Ázawád in general prefer crossing the river at this point, which, although very deep, is easily passed by the camels and cattle, while in other places they have to swim for miles.

Immediately beyond this narrowing of the river the sandy downs cease, and a low stony level, of black, dismal colour, stretched out before us. The river, winding along this tract in a north-easterly bend, and illumined by the dazzling light of the sun, scarcely appeared to be the same large and noble stream which I had admired higher up. The black stony ground was torn by several small channels, and being only sparingly clad with the sad-looking poisonous bush the “fernán,” exhibited a very melancholy appearance. But gradually as we descended from this rough ground upon the green shore, clothed with the rank grass of the býrgu, the river again began to widen, and to assume its former noble character, while a little further on a large island, called “Ádar- n-háut,” was formed, separated from the main land by a narrow channel. We encamped opposite the place where the latter again joins the principal branch, and where, in the present low state of the river, a ledge of rock was seen projecting a considerable distance into the water, and numerous isolated cliffs starting forth from its middle course. I chose my camping-ground a few hundred yards from the shore, among the trees, where we found some shelter during the hot hours of the day; and I even remained here during the following night, although all the people tried to frighten me with the assurance, that the lions which infest the neighbourhood would not leave a bone of my horses and camels.

We were visited in this encampment by the inhabitants of the opposite island, who, although belonging to the mixed tribe of the Rumá, have a much better appearance than their brethren in Bamba. Their chief, of the name of Mohammed, was greatly distinguished by his fine glossy skin, his beautiful black and lively eyes, and his regular Circassian features. The dress of these people, however, is everywhere the same,—white shirts of the commonest and coarsest make, sewed together of narrow strips (only persons of higher rank adorn them with a little silk embroidery), and long white trowsers, besides a miserable bandage of native cotton tied round the head, over which some of them wore another bandage of red cloth. All of them had slung over their shoulders the open leathern belt with which they gird their waists in case of emergency. The intelligence of these people seemed very limited, and it was impossible for me to enter into any serious conversation with them. I was, however, fortunately enabled to buy some rice with cotton strips.

[Sidenote: Saturday, June 10th.]

As if I was destined to spend my whole life in this region, we this day only moved on three miles, keeping close along the shore of the river, which here formed several islands, and gradually took a more southerly direction. The whole of this part of the river, the valley of which, including the islands, measures certainly more than three miles in breadth, is called Burrum, and was formerly one of the chief seats of the Songhay. There is a remarkable tradition that a Pharaoh once came from Egypt to this spot, and again returned. This story would at least imply an early intercourse with Egypt, and should not, I think, be viewed incredulously; for, if it had no foundation whatever, it would certainly attach to the capital of the nation itself, and not to a place which possesses no great historical importance. But on the other hand it is highly interesting to observe, that this is the spot where the great river, which here makes a bend from a west-easterly into a southerly direction, is nearest to Egypt. Let it be further taken into account, that the inhabitants of the oasis of Aújila, which lies on the great commercial road from Egypt to these regions, were the first who opened this western part of Negroland to the intercourse of the Arabs. The whole history of Songhay points to Egypt; the itinerary of the route of the Nasamones, if rightly constructed, inclines to this quarter; and it is easily to be understood how Herodotus[33], on receiving the news that so large a river was running eastward, in such a northerly latitude as nearly 18°, could conceive the opinion that this was the Upper Nile. Even in more modern times, we find Egyptian merchants established from the eleventh century in the town of Bíru, or Waláta, side by side with those of Ghadámes and Tafilélet; the principal commerce of Gágho and Kúkia was directed towards Egypt, and the large commercial entrepôt—Súk—of the tribe of the Tademékka, about one hundred miles from Burrum, on that great highroad, was evidently founded for that purpose.

Formerly there were three villages, containing a considerable population, till about eleven years ago[34] the Fúlbe, under the command of ʿAbd Alláhi, the uncle of the present ruler of Másina, who at that time was a very energetic and warlike chieftain, made an expedition to this place with about 6000 horse, and 20,000 foot, while the whole of the Tawárek, the Awelímmiden, Igwádaren, and Tademékket, collected together near Tóndibi, did not dare to offer them open battle. Destroying, then, those villages of Burrum, the Fúlbe transferred the whole population, consisting of nearly 4000 people, into the neighbourhood of Gúndam.

A good deal of rice is here cultivated; the cultivation of that article in this region being said to have proceeded from this very locality, a fact which is of the greatest interest as regards the ancient intercourse with Egypt. Even now, those among the rest of the inhabitants of Burrum who belong to the Tawárek tribe of the Tademékket, are distinguished for their wealth and their more refined manners; and I here made the acquaintance of two eminent men among them, named Énnas and Gedéma, the latter particularly remarkable for his corpulency.

At the place where we chose our encampment, the low grassy shore was greatly compressed, a steep bank of black sandstone rising to about thirty feet elevation close behind us, and forming at the top a flat level, strewn with black pebbles, which, if a person turned his back to the river, offered almost the same view as the most dreary part of the waste; but as soon as one directed one’s eyes southward, the picture was entirely reversed;—a magnificent stream, studded with rich grassy islands, and affording the most refreshing breeze, appeared in sight.

The Sheikh had so many dealings with the inhabitants of the islands opposite our encampment, that he was obliged to stay here several days; but in order to satisfy me, he made us move on a little. However, we only proceeded for about the distance of a mile, leaving this steep rocky bank behind us, the ground remaining stony, clad with nothing but small stunted trees. Here we encamped again near the border of the green shore, where alone the soil was soft enough to admit the pegs, opposite a long sandbank, which was the resort of numerous flocks of white waterfowl. Of course this sort of progress did not exactly suit my wishes, and in order to soothe my discontent, El Bakáy, soon after we had encamped, paid me a long visit, in order to cheer me up, telling me that he had heard that there really had been, as I conjectured myself, a letter from Háj Beshír, with my parcel, and enumerating those of his pupils, or télamíd, whom he wanted to send along with me.

There being no stated market-place all along this river, the buying of provisions is sometimes accompanied with a great deal of trouble; and although the only produce of this district is rice, that article is never to be obtained in a prepared state. Nothing but kókesh, that is to say, rice in the husk, is procurable; and this is a circumstance not to be overlooked by Europeans who attempt the navigation of this river, as they must always be prepared to lose some time in getting ready and cleaning their rice. I here bought the néffeka of this kind of rice for two drʿa of tári, equal to forty shells. Butter fetched twenty drʿa per néffeka.

During our two days’ stay in this place, I received some valuable information from some Arabs of the tribe of the Welád Molúk, who were settled in Áribínda, that is to say, on the southern bank of the river, and kept up a small trade with Libtáko, which is distant from here about ten days’ march. The river being here so broad, it did not at all surprise me to hear from these people that in average years, during the lowest state of the river, it is fordable in several places.

Far more interesting than the visit of these mixed Berbers was that of a man called Mohammed, who, with eight companions was on his way from Gógó, his native place, to Bamba by water, in a middle-sized boat; thus proving that the water communication between those places was still kept up, notwithstanding the total political ruin of the country, and that, too, at the present season of the year, when the water was at its very lowest. He was a wealthy man, belonging to the mulatto stock of the Rumá, and spoke only Songhay. He also brought me the latest news from the districts farther eastward, and I was glad to hear that, owing to the rebel army of Zabérma having been beaten by the governor of Támkala, the road by Say was open.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, June 13th.]

Having had a thunder-storm during the latter part of the night, with a heavy squall of wind, but without rain, we started at a rather late hour along the grassy shore, which gradually becomes lower and is filled with numerous small ponds; till, after proceeding a little more than a mile, rocky ground began to rise to the surface on our left. It soon assumed the form of steep cliffs, rising to the height of about 120 feet; but although during the inundation it is closely approached by the river, at present a narrow passage was left along the green shore. A heavy gale raised the waves of the river to a considerable height; but the sky was so overcast and enveloped in fog that nothing of the opposite shore was to be discovered.

Numerous small torrents had intersected the cliffs, while a thick bush of an unknown species lined the foot of them. A little further on, while slightly decreasing in height, the rocks became more regularly stratified, presenting numerous crevices and caverns.

Having then passed a place where the cliffs formed a deep recess, the low grassy shore extending far into the river, we were obliged to ascend the higher level for a while, an open branch coming close up to the foot of the rocks. We however descended again after a little more than half a mile, near two magnificent sycamores, and encamped at 11 o’clock in the midst of a dense growth of dúm-bushes, while the Sheikh himself pitched his tent on the top of the downs, near an encampment of Kél-tenákse, a division of the Kél e’ Súk, to whom belonged also another encampment upon an island in the river.

The sandy shore, thickly covered with dúm-bush, was represented to us as the retreat of numerous lions, and we were warned not to encamp here; but we preferred exposing ourselves to this slight danger, as the strong wind did not allow us to pitch our tents on the top of the downs. We had scarcely made ourselves comfortable, when a great multitude of people belonging to the different tribes settled in the neighbourhood,—Tawárek, Kél e’ Súk, Rumá, and Songhay gathered round us. Many of them had fine features, while others bore distinctly the African character. The Kél e’ Súk, who seemed to presume upon their learning, scanty as it was, brought forward their religious prejudices, and I had a sharp disputation with them.

The whole of this district still belongs to Burrum. The Rumá seemed to have also a hamlet of their own in this tract on an island in the river, and appeared to be tolerably well off. A great deal of rice is cultivated hereabouts. I bought some, and had it pounded by two females, one of whom, during her work laughed and made merry almost without interruption, while her companion, who was of a more sullen temper, rendered herself guilty of theft, but was caught in the fact.

Almost all the slaves of these Tawárek wear nothing but a leathern dress, that of the females consisting only of a long apron, while the males very often provide themselves with a tight shirt or kilt of the same material.

From all that I observed, I must conclude that the state of the morals of these Tawárek slaves is very low, particularly those of the Kél e’ Súk. The latter were formerly the inhabitants of fixed settlements on the borders of the desert, where a great deal of foreign commerce centred, and have thence contracted manners which were strange to their origin. But we must remember that from the most ancient times prostitution, as a proof of hospitality, has been in practice among various Berber tribes of North Africa.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, June 14th.]

Having staid here during the forenoon, we started late in the day. My protector remained behind in order to settle some business, while I proceeded in advance with the most trustworthy of his pupils, first keeping close along the river, which here seemed to be of considerable depth quite near the shore, but further on turning away to some distance from it, through the plain, which was here well clad with small talha trees. Thus, after a march of about four miles from our former encampment, we ascended sandy downs, behind which a broad belt of swampy meadow ground stretched along at a distance of more than two miles from the river itself. The higher level soon became more rocky, being strewn with black pebbles, between which numerous footprints of the giraffe were visible. It was pleasantly undulating, a ledge of sandstone and calcareous rock intersecting it like a wall. Having here heard from a shepherd who was watering his flock at a small pond formed by the recent fall of rain, that there was an encampment at some distance, we gave to our course a more southerly direction, and soon reached a village lying at the very brink of the steep bank of the river, consisting of huts, and inhabited conjointly by some Arabs of the tribe of the Bú-ʿAlí, and some poorer members of the tribe of the Kél e’ Súk. The huts consisted of matting, and were very clean and well ventilated, each of them having two doors, one on the north and another on the south side, both of moderate dimensions.

It was late in the evening when we arrived here, and there being an entire want of trees, we had great difficulty in obtaining a little firewood; nor was there any good býrgu for the horses, the river, which here divided into two branches, being too deep to allow this rank grass, which prefers the swampy lowlands, to grow to any extent. The poverty of the inhabitants, also, could not at all satisfy the wants of my companions, who were very fond of a good supper; hence El Bakáy himself, who was well aware of this circumstance, had passed this locality, and, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, directed his steps to another encampment further on. This was also the reason of our following day’s march being limited to a few hundred yards. We thus exchanged our encampment at Isábegen for that of El Bakáy’s at Asákan Imbégge; but the change was by no means advantageous to us, as the high level presented here a most dreary aspect, being almost totally destitute of trees or shrubs. The border of the river, however, bore a very different character, and the swampy lowland extended to a great distance, intersected by a dead water which at present had no connection with the river. The profusion of herbage which grew in this locality enabled me to buy here a good supply of butter, although the country in general appeared to be very bleak. A large island, also, is formed in the river, which is inhabited by Songhay, and called Éha. The previous afternoon, we had observed ahead of us, to the east, a mountain chain called Áseghárbu, and we now saw it more distinctly, stretching from east to west 15° south.

We had scarcely pitched our tents, when we were visited by a great number of Tawárek of the tribe of the Tin-ger-égedesh, who were encamped at a short distance with their chiefs Amáre and Sadáktu. They were distinguished by their noble countenance and superior style of dress, and in both respects resembled the Tarabanása, whose enemies they are. Most of them wore black tobes, the black alternately interchanging with a white band; and I counted not less than fifty of them, all decent- looking men. After a while I became very good friends with them, although the commencement of our intercourse was rather awkward. They had had some dealings with Mungo Park, whose policy it was to fire at any one who approached him in a threatening attitude[35]; and having lost some of their tribe by his well-directed balls, they kept at first at some distance from me, viewing me with a rather suspicious and malevolent eye. But when they observed that I had entered into cheerful conversation with some of their party, they convinced themselves that I did not belong to the class of wild beasts, or “táwakast;” for such, from the reception they had met with from Park, they had supposed all Europeans to be. I even, to my great astonishment, found here, with one of the Kél e’ Súk, the life of Bruce, published by Murray in 1835, and which most probably had been the property of Davidson, the Kél e’ Súk having brought it from Ázawád, where it had been taken by Hámma, a younger brother of El Bakáy, who, about the time of Davidson’s journey, had paid a visit to Tawát and the country of the ʿAríb. It was almost complete, only ten leaves being wanting, and I bought it for three benáíg, or strips of indigo-died cotton. It had been used as a talisman, an Arabic charm having been added to it.

Here, as in general, I allayed the suspicions of the people and made them more familiar by showing them some pictures of men of various tribes. Notwithstanding the great distance which separated my tent from the encampment, none of the women remained behind, all being anxious to have a look at this curious and novel exhibition; and having been sent about their business when they came in the daytime, they again returned towards night in such numbers that my people, being anxious for the safety of my small tent, which became endangered by these unwieldy creatures, endeavoured to frighten them away with powder. But all was in vain; they would not stir till they had seen the pictures, which, in accordance with the disposition of each, excited their great delight or amazement. My custom, which I have mentioned before, of honouring the handsomest woman in every encampment with a looking-glass, created here a great struggle for the honour; but I was so unfortunate as to hurt the feelings of a mother by giving the prize of beauty to her daughter, who was rather a handsome person.

We remained here the following day, when we had, in the morning, a considerable fall of rain, which lasted several hours, and drenched the Sheikh and his followers in their leathern tent, while my old and worn white bell tent, pitched in this open hammáda, withstood the rain beautifully, to the great astonishment of the Tawárek, who all came, soon after the rain was over, to see if I had not been swamped in my frail dwelling, which, before, they had looked upon with contempt.

I had afterwards a very important controversy with the Sheikh’s people, in which I had to make use of all my energy in order to carry out my intention of following up the shores of the river; for the Kél e’ Súk wanted to persuade the Sheikh to enter here the open desert, and to make straight for the encampment of their chief, Khozématen, who, they said, would provide me with everything necessary for my further journey. They were seconded in their endeavour by all the eloquence of Áhmed Wadáwi, El Bakáy’s favourite pupil, who asserted that, after the heavy rains that had fallen, the desert afforded plenty of herbage for the horses. But I opposed these arguments in the most determined manner, assuring the Sheikh that, even if he should go, I would not, but that I should pursue my route straight along the river; and, in order to make an impression on his mind, I reminded him of the distinct promise which he had given me of conducting me to Gógó. The Sheikh, then seeing that I was firm, adhered to his word, and it was therefore decided that a message should be sent to the chiefs of the Kél e’ Súk, to the effect that they were to meet us in Gógó, while we continued our march along the river.

Thus we left this cheerless camping-ground in the afternoon, and soon descended by a gradual inclination from the higher desert tract, which, however, after the heavy rain that had fallen in the morning, was full of pools of stagnant water. We then passed several encampments, till we reached the low grassy shore of the river, when the high ground on our left was intersected by several dry watercourses, and obliged us, although only for a short time, to exchange the green bottom for the rocky slope at a place where a branch of the river, which approached closely, was full of crocodiles.

Entering then an open grassy plain intersected by several channels, and making our way with difficulty through this swampy ground, called Erárar, we reached about dark an encampment of Kél e’ Súk, at the border of an open branch of the river, which was here about 400 yards broad. The locality was called Tabórak, though not a single tree was to be seen hereabouts; the whole district is here still called Éha. The open river afforded a very pleasant sight, as, during the last few days, I had seen nothing but swampy creeks. Towards the south-east, the watery plain was bounded by Mount Tóndibi, which juts out into the river in the shape of a promontory of considerable elevation. The locality, however, was so very unhealthy, that I could not long enjoy the fresh air outside, but was obliged to retire into my tent at an early hour.

[Sidenote: Saturday, June 17th.]

On leaving our camping-ground in the morning, we had to cross two small creeks, and then keeping along the swampy plain, soon got entangled in a larger sheet of water, which stretched along the foot of Mount Tóndibi, and appeared to intercept our passage. We therefore thought it better to get out of the swampy ground, which here was full of water covered with water lilies, and to ascend the sandy downs, where we passed another ámazagh of the Tin-ger-égedesh. There is no doubt that this swampy plain, for several months of the year, presents one uninterrupted sheet of water. Thus we ascended the northerly offshoots of Mount Tóndibi, which formed undulating sandy downs, stretching forth from the foot of the rocky mount, and richly clad with dúm-bush; but we soon passed them, and descended again on the other side into the grassy swampy plain, at present dry, but intersected by a creek every now and then. The river was at a considerable distance.

A mile beyond, we reached an encampment of the Kél e’ Súk, consisting of reed huts, and at the instigation of the Wadáwi, in the absence of the Sheikh, made a halt and unloaded our camels, when we suddenly received counter-orders, and reloading our camels with great alacrity, proceeded on our march. The plain was here intersected by several winding channels, where we observed numerous herds of cattle and flocks of sheep belonging to the slaves of Khozématen, who, like all the Tawárek, were about to leave the river, and to enter the region of the desert, and the mountainous tract of Áderár, where, in consequence of the rains, fresh herbage was springing up.[36]

Here we ascended the sandy downs, keeping close along the green border of the bot-há, and passing two small encampments, till we descended again from the rising ground into the green bed of the valley, which was here about three miles broad, and richly overgrown with daman-kádda interspersed between the dúm-bush, with which the small isolated sandy downs were adorned, besides a little “ʿashur,” tursha, or Asclepias. But we soon received another serious warning not to trust to this low swampy ground, for we suddenly observed a considerable sheet of water, which seemed to be connected with the principal river extending in front of us, so that we were obliged to regain the higher ground.

While riding a while by myself, I was much amused in observing our motley troop, consisting of about thirty individuals, some mounted on horses, riding singly or in pairs, others on camels, others again toiling along on foot, some armed with guns, and some with spears, and all in different attire, moving along this low swampy ground, where it rose a few feet above the deepest bottom, and was well lined with bush. It being then noon, the sun was very powerful, and when we reached the drier ground, the heat became very troublesome. My companions therefore were well pleased when we reached a village of the Songhay, or rather of that division of them which is called Ibawájiten or Ibáujiten, hoping that they should be able to get some refreshment; but the Songhay, now that they have lost almost all their national independence, and are constantly exposed to all sorts of contributions, are inhospitable in the extreme; and they pointed out to us the encampment of their chief at a considerable distance along the river, where we were to look for quarters. The whole district is called Abúba.

Following the example of my companions, who were lightly laden and not very cautious, I was induced once more to enter the swampy grounds; and, being obliged to cross two boggy channels, we regained with difficulty the sandy downs, which were enlivened with three separate groups of dúm- palms, which adorned a cemetery. Here we encamped in a small field, enclosed with fernán, but at present empty, the locality being called Fágoná.

The situation on these high downs was so conspicuous, that my tent, being visible at a great distance over the valley, attracted a great proportion of the neighbouring population, among whom there were also some Rumá. A few of them were even mounted on horses, although of a very unseemly breed. They were seated upon a very awkward kind of saddle, which was merely thrown over the horse’s back without a belly-band, and quite low behind. Their dress was also poor, and of the same character as that of the inhabitants of Bamba and Ghérgo. All these people belong to the tribe of the Ibawájiten, and were remarkable for more than ordinary ignorance. Many of them came to solicit medicine from me; and one cannot wonder that, in such a locality, a great deal of sickness prevails, for the whole river is almost entirely lost in a broad shallow valley of about three miles in width, which, in its present low condition, bordered by steep banks, was nothing but a labyrinth of small creeks, intercepting swampy meadow grounds, although, during the higher state of the inundation, it must be filled up by the river, and form one large stream. Seeing so few trees hereabout, I was astonished to hear all the people speak of the number of lions which infested this district; they even begged us urgently to be upon our guard against them during the night.

[Sidenote: Sunday, June 18th.]

Having heard nothing of lions or wild beasts during the night, we prepared early for our departure, but were detained some time, as the Sheikh had again business to transact as a general pacificator; these Ibawájiten having purchased two of the slaves whom Sadáktu had taken from the people of Bamba, and not feeling inclined to return them. At length we started, but found it extremely difficult to avoid a wide swampy creek which deeply indented the country, while it afforded a beautiful field for the cultivation of rice, and even in the present decayed state of the country, was not left wholly unprofitable. At length having passed several small channels, we regained the border of the sandy downs, which were richly clothed with vegetation, although the melancholy looking fernán bush here also vindicates its right, beside the retem and the talha tree.

We at length resumed our southerly direction, but were not allowed for any length of time to follow a straight course across this swampy ground, being recalled by some of our companions, who conducted us to a sandy promontory, with projecting granite blocks and dúm bushes, where the Sheikh had made a halt, opposite an encampment of the Songhay, in the “Ammas,” as the Imóshagh call the bottom of the valley. Although I was sorry to break off our march so soon, the view from this place was highly interesting, as it afforded a distant prospect over the river, if I may so call a broad swampy valley, hemmed in by steep banks, enclosing in the midst an abundance of rank grass, and scarcely affording at the present time the aspect of an open sheet of water, smaller and larger creeks, and more extensive ponds being formed in every direction. But the most curious sight was that presented by the river a little higher up, where corresponding to the deep gulf which we had turned round in the morning, there appeared on the opposite side another swampy gulf, the whole width of the valley at that place being scarcely less than eight miles. It is evident, from all that I saw here, that the navigable branch of the river runs on the side of Áribínda, that is to say, the southern bank.

As it had been decided that we should remain here during the night, we had already pitched our tents, and made ourselves comfortable, when our companions having been informed that in a neighbouring encampment there was a better prospect of a good supper, suddenly started off, although a thunderstorm gathered with threatening appearance over our heads; but fortunately the encampment was not far distant, and the storm passed by without rain. This encampment belonged to the Kél e’ Súk, and was very considerable. The next morning several very decent-looking men were introduced to me, by my officious friend, Áhmed el Wadáwi, when they assured me that the whole road to Say was safe. All these people, who possess a small degree of learning, and pride themselves in writing a few phrases from the Kurán, were extremely anxious to obtain some scraps of paper, and I was glad to be still enabled, besides small strips of black cotton cloth and needles, to give away some trifling presents of this kind.

When we left the encampment, which was at about 800 yards from the outer bank of the river, the country assumed quite a different aspect, and we had soon to descend a rough rocky passage of blackened sandstone, interspersed with granite blocks, in a great state of decomposition, and passing several encampments of Tawárek, of the tribe of the Ímedídderen, we entered a plain richly wooded with talha, hájilíj, retem, fernán, and the poisonous euphorbia, which, as is generally the case, grew in the shade of the talha trees.

We very nearly became embroiled in a serious quarrel with the inhabitants of one of these camps, who seized a small box which I had given to the Sheikh, and which one of his young slaves was carrying. I was riding in advance, and the people allowed me to pass unmolested, contenting themselves with putting some questions to me. The whole country was in a state of great agitation, a rumour having got abroad that I, in conjunction with the Sheikh, was to establish here a new kingdom. But a few considerate admonitions from the more respectable members of the troop brought the Tawárek to reason; and it was very curious to witness the theatrical attitudes which one of these simple- minded but energetic original inhabitants of North Africa made use of, in order to demonstrate to the author of the riot the absurdity of his proceedings.

After some slight delay caused by this theatrical intermezzo, we put our little troop once more in motion, following our former southerly direction, till we were overtaken by a messenger from the Sheikh, with the order that we were to approach nearer the river. Proceeding therefore in a south-westerly direction, we soon came to the exterior embankment of the river reached by its waters during the highest state of the inundation, and girt by a dense grove of dúm-bush and talha trees, but destitute of the nutritious býrgu.

In this locality, which is called Kókoro, we made a halt in order to wait for El Bakáy; but, as he did not come, and as we were unable to stay in this wilderness where no encampment was near, we moved on in the afternoon, with an almost exact southerly direction, towards Gógó, Gʿawó, or Ghágo, the celebrated capital of the Songhay empire. We first kept along the border of the green swampy creek, which further on presented an open sheet of water, while on our left, between the dense dúm-bush, dúm-palms also began to appear. But about two miles further on, leaving the creek for awhile, we ascended sandy downs, where from the deserted site of a former ámazagh, bearing evident traces of having been the resting-place of a numerous herd of cattle, my companions descried in the distance the tops of the palm trees of Gógó, while I strained my eyes in vain, filled as I was with the most ardent desire of at length reaching that place.

Descending then into a slight depression, we reached a larger fáddama, which soon after was joined by a considerable branch from the north- west, gradually filling with water as we advanced, and forming an arm of the river. From beyond the other side, a very comfortable looking encampment became visible, and almost induced my companions to give up the plan of reaching the desolate site of the former capital of this Nigritian empire; but the fine tamarind trees, and the beautiful date palms burst now too distinctly upon our view to allow me to relinquish the pleasure of reaching them, without further delay. It was a most interesting and cheering sight to behold a large expanse of fields of native corn take the place of the desert. The whole country became one open cultivable level, uninterrupted by any downs; and I thought at that moment that we had bid farewell to the desert for ever, and entered the fertile region of Central Negroland, an expectation which, however, was not fully realized by what I observed further on. But here, at least, even in the present decayed state of the country, there were some remains of industry, and the stubble-fields of sába, or sorghum, were succeeded by tobacco plantations, and, after a slight interruption, by ricegrounds under water. However, darkness set in before we reached the miserable hovels of Gógó, and we encamped on a large open area, bordered round about by detached huts of matting, from which the ruins of a large tower-like building of clay rose to a considerable height, and by a fine grove of rich trees, running on into a dense underwood of siwák. The river was not visible from this point.

[Footnote 33: Book ii. chap. xxxii. τὴν ὁδὸν ποιευμένους πρὸς ζέφυρον ἄνεμον.]

[Footnote 34: This passage was written in 1854.]

[Footnote 35: It was this policy of Mungo Park, which he no doubt adopted much against his own inclination, that inspired Major Laing, when he heard of it in Tawát, with such ominous dread of the fate which might await himself. In one of his letters which I had the opportunity of inspecting through the kindness of General Sabine, he exclaims, after having mentioned that he met a Tárki who had been wounded by Mungo Park:—“How imprudent, how unthinking! I may even say how selfish was it in Park, to attempt to make discoveries in this country at the expense of the blood of the inhabitants, and to the exclusion of all after communication; how unjustifiable was such conduct!” It was on this account that Major Laing sent back the sailors whom he had with him, and almost gave up his design of navigating the river below Timbúktu.]

[Footnote 36: I here subjoin a list of the names of the most celebrated wells and pasture grounds of Áderár, some of which were at a former period, the sites of wealthy towns:—Amásin, Áraba, Tin-darán, Yúnhan or Gúnhan, Súk or e’ Súk, Ijenshíshen, Ázel-adár, Kídal, a very fine district; Én-déshedáit, Taghelíb, Marret, Talábit, Tadakkét, Ásway, An- emellen, An-sáttefen, Asheróbbak, Tin-záwaten, Tájemart, Eléwi, Dohendal, Tin-ajóla, Én-rar, Ejárak, Áshu, Álkit, Takelhút, Dafelliána, Én-áfara.]

CHAP. LXXVIII.

THE ANCIENT CAPITAL OF SONGHAY AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, June 20th.]

As soon as I had made out that Gógó was the place which for several centuries had been the capital of a strong and mighty empire in this region, I felt a more ardent desire to visit it than I had to reach Timbúktu. The latter, no doubt, had become celebrated throughout the whole of Europe, on account of the commerce which centred in it; nevertheless I was fully aware that Timbúktu had never been more than a provincial town, although it exercised considerable influence upon the neighbouring regions from its being the seat of Mohammedan learning. But Gʿawó, or Gógó, had been the centre of a great national movement, from whence powerful and successful princes, such as the great Mohammed el Háj Áskia, spread their conquests from Kebbi, or rather Háusa, in the east, as far as Fúta in the west; and from Tawát in the north, as far as Wángara and Mósi towards the south.

Cheered at having reached this spot, I passed a tranquil night, and rising early in the morning, lay down outside my tent, quietly enjoying the prospect over this once busy locality, which, according to the unanimous statements of former writers, was the most splendid city of Negroland, though it is now the desolate abode of a small and miserable population. Just opposite to my tent, towards the south, lay the ruined massive tower, the last remains of the principal mosque, or jíngeré-bér, of the capital, the sepulchre of the great conqueror Mohammed. All around the wide open area where we were encamped, was woven a rich corona of vegetation, among which, in the clear light of the morning, I discovered different species of trees that I had long ago lost sight of; such as date palms, tamarind trees, ngáboré or sycamores, and even the silk-cotton tree, although the specimens of the latter plant were rather poor and of small growth.

Having enjoyed the scenery for some time, I went with my young Shúwa lad, in order to obtain a sight of the river, of which as yet I had seen nothing here. Emerging from the fine group of trees, I found that only a very small creek without an outlet at the present season, closely approached the town, while an extensive swampy lowland extended far into the river. But for several months in the year this lowland is inundated, with the exception, perhaps, of a few spots which rise to a greater height, and are adorned with talha trees.

At present the name of Gʿawó is given not only to the site of the former capital, but also to the island, and even to the opposite shore of Áribínda; and I once supposed, that the chief part of the town was situated on the island, but this does not appear to have been the case; neither does it appear to have stood on the western bank. The fact is that in former times there were two distinct quarters of Gógó, the quarter of the idolaters on the western bank towards Gúrma, and the royal and Mohammedan quarter on the eastern bank towards Egypt, whence Islám, with its accompanying civilization, had been introduced. In the course of time the latter quarter would gain over the former, which from the beginning, when pagan worship was prevalent, was no doubt the more considerable.

Even at present, when all this ground was left dry by the retiring waters and formed a rich grassy island, only a few huts were seen on the island, as well as on the shore of Áribínda. But the present inhabitants appear scarcely to be in want of the river, for only a single seaworthy boat was to be seen, and four others out of repair were lying on the shore. The natives, when I expressed my astonishment at the miserable state of their craft, complained that they had no wood for building boats. Between the huts and the little creek, which by means of a northerly branch serves to irrigate the rice-fields, there is a tobacco plantation. It is here that the finest trees are grouped together, and I now observed, that besides from twenty to twenty-five date palms, which were just full of fruit, bordering upon ripeness, there were two or three dúm-palms.

Having thus surveyed the river, I took a turn round the hamlet, which altogether consists of about 300 huts, grouped in separate clusters, and surrounded by heaps of rubbish, which seemed to indicate the site of some larger buildings of the former city. While walking round the huts, the women came out from their “búge,” or matting huts, and gathered cheerfully round us, exclaiming one above the other, “Nasára, nasára, Allah aákbar!” “A Christian, a Christian: God is great!” but they seemed to take a greater interest in my younger Shúwa lad than in myself, dancing round him in a very cheerful and fascinating manner. Some of them had tolerably regular features, and were tall and of good proportions. They were all dressed in the same style, very different from the dress of the women in Timbúktu, having a broad wrapper of thick woollen cloth of different coloured stripes fastened below the breast, so that it came down almost to their ankles, and many of them had even fastened this dress over their shoulders by a pair of short braces, in the same way as men wear their trowsers in Europe, and others had simply fastened it from behind.

While I was thus walking round the village, I met an old man who greeted me in the most cheerful manner, and attached himself to me. From what he intimated, I could not but conclude, that he had come into close contact with the Christian who so many years ago navigated this river in such a mysterious manner; but, unfortunately, he was of weak understanding, and I could not make out half of what he said to me. I regretted this the more as he conducted me through the heaps of rubbish to a long narrow clay building at a short distance west from the mosque, where he wanted to show me something of interest, but the owner of the house refused me admittance.

Leaving then the furthermost huts on my right, I turned my steps towards the jíngeré-bér, and endeavoured to make out as well as I could the plan of this building.

According to all appearance, the mosque consisted originally of a low building, flanked on the east and west side by a large tower, the whole courtyard being surrounded by a wall about eight feet in height. The eastern tower is in ruins, but the western one is still tolerably well preserved, though its proportions are extremely heavy. It rises in seven terraces, which gradually decrease in diameter, so that while the lowest measures from forty to fifty feet on each side, the highest does not appear to exceed fifteen. The inhabitants still offer their prayers in this sacred place, where their great conqueror, Háj Mohammed, is interred, although they have not sufficient energy to repair the whole. The east quarter of the mosque evidently was formerly the most frequented and best inhabited part of the town, and is entirely girded with a thick grove of siwák bushes, which covers all the uninhabited part of the former city. The town, in its most flourishing period, seems to have had a circumference of about six miles. According to the statement of Leo[37], it appears never to have been surrounded by a wall. The dwellings in general do not seem to have been distinguished by their style of architecture, with the exception of the residence of the king, although even that was of such a description that the Bashá Jódar, on conquering the town, wrote to inform his master, Múláy e’ Dhéhebi, that the house of the Sheikh el Harám, in Morocco, was much better than the palace of the Áskia.[38]

When I returned to my tent from this my first excursion, I found a great crowd of men assembled there, but was unable to make the acquaintance of any one who might give me some information about the place, and, on the whole, I did not succeed in entering into any amicable relations with the inhabitants of Gógó. Their sullen behaviour seems to be accounted for by the fact, as I shall mention further on, that they had behaved rather treacherously towards the Christian who had visited this place some fifty years before.

I endeavoured also, although in vain, to buy Indian corn, from the inhabitants, although it was perhaps the fear of the Tawárek which made them deny that they had any. Thus I found myself reduced to the necessity of providing myself with a supply of úzak, or eníti, that is to say, the seeds of the Pennisetum distichum, which is generally used as an article of food by the Tawárek, my horses having fared very badly for some time.

It was not until the second day of our arrival, that my protector, accompanied by Hanna, Khozématen, Hammalába, and the other chief men of the Kél e’ Súk, who had come to have an interview with him, joined us. These people were mounted partly on camels, partly on horseback, and the large open area which spread out between the mosque and our tents thus became greatly enlivened; and it was not long before the messengers who had been sent to Alkúttabu returned with the answer, that he would meet the Sheikh in this place in three days. It almost appeared as if Gógó was again to acquire some slight historical importance, as the place of meeting between the native chiefs of these disturbed regions and a European, anxious to inspire the natives of these countries with fresh energy, and to establish a regular intercourse along the high-road which nature herself has prepared.

When all these people arrived, I was just busy laying down, as well as circumstances allowed, my route from Timbúktu to Gógó, which I was very anxious to finish, and to send off from here, and thus to secure the results of my exploration, in case of any mischance befalling myself. At that time, the legs of my table being broken, I was obliged to finish this map on a board placed upon my knees, and sitting on my mat, as I had at that period neither chair nor box. Having finished this business, I went with the Sheikh, in order to pay my compliments to the Kél e’ Súk, who had just concluded their prayers. The two chiefs, Khozématen and Hanna, principally claimed my attention. But, although they were very respectable men, it was a rather curious circumstance that both were blind, or nearly so; Hanna, who was the elder by two years, had only one eye, and Khozématen was totally blind; notwithstanding which, he felt confident that I was able to cure him.

Besides the transactions with these people, the preparations for my home journey were going on, although slowly; and the Sheikh addressed a letter in my favour to the chiefs on the road along which I had to pass. It was couched in flattering terms, and could not fail to be of the greatest service to me after my separation from him.[39] Notwithstanding that a tolerable variety of business was on hand, the locality soon became loathsome to me on account of the great heat which prevailed. The shade which was afforded by the fine sycamores near the river, was at too great a distance from my tent, and too much frequented by birds, to be of any avail. I was therefore glad that the visit of some other people induced my host to interrupt our stay here by a small excursion.

These people were the Gá-béro, as they are generally called, or, according to their original nomenclature, Súdu-kámil, a numerous tribe of Fúlbe, who have been settled in these regions for several hundred years, and from fear of the persecution of the Áskíá, or Síkkíá, have exchanged their own native language for that of the inhabitants of the country. They had formerly enjoyed almost undisturbed liberty, in a state of nominal dependence on the governor of Say; but some time previously they had been forced to acknowledge the supremacy of Hómbori, the governor of which place had made an expedition against them, and killed some thirty of their number. They therefore desired the Sheikh to come and extend his protection over them and to impart blessing to them. However, we did not leave this place till the afternoon of the 25th.

Having left behind us the area of the ancient town, and then traversed a plain clad with small talha-trees and dúm-bush, we reached, after a march of about four miles, the grassy border of the river, and boldly entered the swampy grounds; for in the midst of these lowlands, from whence the river had retired, there were several clusters of matting- huts, inhabited by Gá-béro and Rumá. Not having taken any tents with us, sheds were erected both for El Bakáy and myself, but they were in a miserable condition, and it was fortunate that a thunder-storm, which had hovered over our heads almost the whole of the afternoon, was moving northwards, where a great deal of rain fell, and left us tolerably free from wet and wind.

[Sidenote: Monday, June 26th.]

The inhabitants of the hamlet treated us rather inhospitably; and we set out at an early hour to pursue our march in the swampy vale. After proceeding for about a mile, we passed a small hamlet, situated on a rising ground, adorned with dúm-palms. Crossing several small channels, where the people were busy renewing the dykes encompassing the rice- fields, we reached the firm shore, which was adorned with dúm-bush, fernán, kalgo, tursha, and damankádda. The river, which forms here a tolerably open sheet, is bordered on the side of Áribínda by a steep bank, which, a little further on, is succeeded by sandy downs. However, after a short time, we were again obliged to enter the low swampy ground, which at present formed a wide grassy gulf enclosed by hills.

The plain was cultivated with a good deal of sorghum, the blades of which were just starting forth, but the grain does not ripen before the period when the inundation covers this spot, and transforms it into a lake-like widening of the river. Winding along between several channels which had not yet dried up, we were glad when we again reached the firm shore, where the rocky slope, from 80 to 100 feet elevation, closely approaches the open river. A party of Kél e’ Súk were just pitching their tents here.

Keeping along the narrow slip of level shore, which gradually became more and more compressed, from which circumstance the locality is called Tin-shéran, we found ourselves, after a march of about a mile, opposite an encampment of the Gá-béro, spreading out on a flat sandy beach, which at present formed the border of a very extensive grassy plain, but which, when the river rises to a greater height, forms a sort of sandbank, till it is overwhelmed, in its turn, by the rising waters of the Niger. These being the people who had invited us to come and pay them a visit, we chose our camping-ground on the high sandhills forming the offshoots of the rocky slope, which here rose to the height of 200 or 300 feet. It was a beautiful open place, and the Gá-béro[40], as soon as they observed us, began to beat their drum, or tobl, and prepared to cross over to us. To accomplish this, however, it was first necessary for them to borrow some boats, as they themselves did not possess any, from fear of the Tawárek, who might easily cross over to them, and annoy them.

Having sent three oxen swimming across the river as a first token of hospitality, they began to raise a very neat matting-dwelling for the Sheikh; but my noble friend, with great courtesy, gave it up to me, and ordered another for himself. These people exhibited great superiority both in carriage and intelligence over the Songhay inhabitants, although their dress is not very different from that of the Fúlbe, being only a little fuller and less shabby. A few, such as their chief, Hanna, and his people, wear black tobes, with pockets of red cloth, like the Tawárek. Their wives dress like the Songhay women, wrapping a woollen shawl round the lower part of the body, below the breast, and fastening it over the shoulder.

They derive their descent partly from Fúta, and partly from the tribe of the Úrube settled in Másina. Some sherífs are also stated to have intermarried with them: and it was with considerable interest that I beheld among them several individuals with real Púllo features. They are greatly afraid, not less of the Fúlbe of Hómbori (the place mentioned in my outward journey, which is only four good days’ march distant from here), than of the Kortíta, a division of the Songhay settled further down the river. They were therefore most anxious to possess a double talisman against this twofold danger which threatened them, and received a blessing from me as well as from the Sheikh; for although I told them repeatedly that the blessing of the Sheikh was quite sufficient for them, they insisted upon receiving my own benediction likewise. I now learned that several of them had made my personal acquaintance on a former occasion, having been among the troop of natives who assisted me in crossing the dangerous swamp a few miles from Áribínda.

In this place, which is called Borno, or Barno, we remained the four following days; and I might have enjoyed the fine air and the charming view over the river, notwithstanding my eager desire to continue my journey without any longer delay, if it had not been that I was badly off for food, the rice with which we were supplied not being seasoned with salt, and there being an entire lack of milk. The communication with the opposite shore was rendered rather difficult by the great breadth of the open river, which, moreover, became repeatedly agitated by a thunder-storm, and was infested by several hippopotami, which at times were furiously snorting about in the river, as if in anger at our having disturbed their quiet retreat. The day of our arrival they had thrown the whole of our horses into disorder, and put them to flight while they were pasturing near the shore. They even at times interrupted the intercourse between the two banks, and altogether exhibited a very noisy character, especially during the evening and in the course of the night, when they wanted to come out for their usual food. Two white “ar,” a rather rare species of antelope in these quarters, were seen by some of my companions on the rocky heights above.

At times I was roaming about in the recesses of the rocky slope, which offered very charming views, one of which is represented in the plate opposite, or I had some conversation with people who were passing by. Among the latter were especially a troop of Sherífen, a section of the Kél e’ Súk, but very different from the general character of that tribe, whose distinguishing features are humility and harmlessness. All of them came in full armour, and many were well dressed, and their general bearing bore testimony to an independent mind. It was curious, however, that the chief of these people mistook me for El Bakáy, and therefore paid his compliments to me first, probably in consequence of my beard being longer.

[Sidenote: Saturday, July 1st.]

The herd of cattle, which the Gá-béro were to make a present of to the Sheikh, having at length successfully regained their native shore, we set out on our return march to Gógó late in the afternoon, and keeping along the rocky slope, where it recedes inland, behind Tin-shéran, we halted for the night in an encampment of the Kél-gúnhan, which was very considerable, consisting of more than 100 leathern tents. The encampment was full of young slaves, such as I had rarely seen with any of these Tawárek; but as I have observed on a former occasion, the Kél e’ Súk do not seem as yet to have entirely forgotten their former residence in a large, luxurious place, and even at the present time indulge greatly in the traffic of slaves. Here, also, the slaves, male and female, were entirely clad in leather, but on the whole, they were good-looking, and appeared cheerful.

[Sidenote: Sunday, July 2nd.]

I again reached Gógó, while the Sheikh remained behind in the encampment of another body of Kél e’ Súk, situated on a sort of promontory, projecting into the swampy plain, which we reached about five miles after setting out from the place where we had passed the night. Our march lay along the foot of the rocky slope full of caverns and ravines, and enlivened with trees and bush, the swampy ground on our left being laid out in rice-fields, which the people were busy cultivating, and interrupted here and there by insulated rising ground clad with dúm- bush.

On my arrival in my tent I was glad, after my long abstinence from palatable food, to indulge in an excellent rejíre, the favourite drink made with cheese and dates, which is very acceptable in the desert country, but rather difficult to digest in the feverish regions of Negroland. Thus I began to prepare myself for my home journey, which from henceforward I might confidently expect to pursue with more steadiness. I then went to pay a visit to my friends the Kél e’ Súk, who, during our long absence, had grown very impatient, and, as it would seem, not without good reason. They received me very cheerfully, and in their excess of friendly feeling, made an endeavour to convert me to their creed; but having received a direct refusal, they entreated me very earnestly to return to them as soon as possible, but this time by way of Tawát. However, I was obliged to tell them, that it was very unlikely I should ever return, and more improbable still by way of Tawát, that road being extremely dangerous for us; but I informed them, that I entertained no doubt, that if it were possible to get over the rapids which obstructed the lower course of the river, the English would not be long in paying them a visit.

All my friends who now saw my departure near at hand, began to evince their attachment to me more strongly than ever, and in the evening, after I had dismissed El Munír and Inésa, the sons of Khozématen, both of them worthy young men, I had a very animated conversation with my friend Mohammed el Khottár over our tea, and I promised him a considerable number of Arabic books, in the event of his paying a visit to England.[41]

The following morning, when I was lying outside my tent, as was my custom, enjoying the fresh air, all my friends gathered round me, and I had to read to them passages from various European books, including the Greek text of the Evangelists. The German principally attracted the attention of these people, the full heavy words of that language appearing to them somewhat like their own idiom, and they became highly elated, when I recited to them from memory some verses of a favourite German poem.

All my people were so full of enthusiasm, on account of a fair prospect of a speedy departure on our home-journey being held out to them, that they gave the Sheikh El Bakáy, when he joined us, in the course of the morning, in Gógó, a most hearty reception, and fired away a good deal of powder in honour of him. I afterwards went with him to distribute some presents amongst the chiefs of the Kél e’ Súk and some great men of the Awelímmiden, who had arrived in the company of the Sheikh. Khozématen received a fine black Núpe tobe and a black lithám; Hanna, a túrkedí and a lithám; the four Awelímmiden, viz., Bodhál, Ríwa, Alíso, and Sábet, each a lithám, besides some smaller articles; and each of the sons of Khozématen and Hanna, the half of a lithám. Every one was content, although some of them would have liked to receive articles of greater value.

There being no prospect that Alkúttabu would join us here, as we were told that he had gone to drive back a predatory expedition of the Kél- fadáye, I returned the fine black horse which the Sheikh had made me a present of, and which I had destined for the chief of the Awelímmiden, to the former, who was going to visit that chief, in order that he might present it to him in my name. I also made ready the present which I intended to make to Thákkefi, the son of the former chief, and El Ágwi, a near relation of his.

The Sheikh himself showed his consciousness of our approaching separation by assuming a lively air. In the evening I had a very animated conversation with him and Sídi Áhmed el Wádáwi, the most learned of his pupils, with regard to the shape of the earth, and succeeded, at length, in clearly demonstrating to him its globular shape and the circular motion of the whole system of the planets. He was not a little struck when, speaking of what was above the earth and under it, I told him that, with regard to the Omnipresent Being, such as we and they recognise the Almighty Creator of the universe to be, the idea of an above and below was not to be entertained; but that such expressions had only reference to human speculation. But, although as a Mohammedan he could not entirely concur in such a doctrine, being overawed by the authority of the Kurán, yet, having before his eyes the beautiful panorama of the hemisphere, he became quite convinced that on the whole I was right; although, shut up within the narrow walls of his room in the town, he had always thought it both absurd and profane to assert such a thing.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, July 5th.]

All was ready for our departure, when Thákkefi, the cousin of the present ruler of the Awelímmiden, and son of the late powerful chief E’ Nábegha, joined us with a few of his companions, among whom Sohéb was the most conspicuous. The arrival of this important personage caused us fresh delay, which, however, on the whole, was agreeable to me, as he was authorized by Alkúttabu to grant me full franchise and perfect security for all Englishmen travelling or trading in their territory; and in the course of conversation he even made the remarkable proposal to me, that the English should endeavour, by means of a strong expedition up the river, to establish regular intercourse with them.

Meanwhile, the chiefs of the Kél e’ Súk departed for their respective homes, holding forth the prospect that I myself might soon follow. Thákkefi stayed with me almost the whole of the day, inspecting my effects with the greatest curiosity and attention. He was a fine tall man, possessed of great strength and remarkable intelligence, and had the most ardent wish to see more of our ingenious manufactures. I was very sorry that I was able to show him so little, as almost the whole of my supplies were exhausted. A spear had been thrust through his neck from behind, in the sudden attack by the Kél-gerés at Tin-taláit, where his father was slain, and he was very anxious to obtain some efficacious plaister for his wound. Everything went on so well in my intercourse with this chief, that in the afternoon of the day following his arrival the letter of franchise was written by Daniél, the secretary of Alkúttabu, and the day after Thákkefi himself called upon me in my tent. He appeared to have some particular object in view, and, having carefully secured the entrance of the tent, in order to prevent other people from overhearing our conversation, he expressed his desire and that of his uncle, that the English might send three well-armed boats up the river, in order to establish intercourse with them. I took care to point out to him, that however anxious the English were to establish commerce and an exchange of produce with this region, yet the success of their endeavours was dependent on the circumstance whether they would be able to cross the rapids and the rocky passage which obstructed the river lower down, between Búsa and Rába, and that therefore I was unable to promise him anything with certainty. I gave to this chief, who, besides being possessed of great vigour, had a good deal of good-nature about him, one tobe shaharíye, two black tobes, two black shawls, three túrkedís, a silk cord of Fás manufacture for suspending the sword, and several other smaller articles.

During our stay in this place I had laid down the course of the river between Timbúktu and Gógó on a tolerably large scale, as far as it was possible to do so, written a despatch to government, and several letters to members of the Royal Geographical Society and other private friends, and having sealed the parcel, I delivered it to the Sheikh in order that he might forward it without delay upon his return to Timbúktu. I am sorry to say, however, that this parcel only arrived a few months ago, having been laid up in Ghadámes for more than two years.

Before leaving Gógó, I was anxious to ascertain exactly the nature of the river along this shore, as on our march both to and from the Gá- béro, we had kept at some distance from its bank, and I arranged with the Sheikh’s nephew to survey the shores of the river for some distance downwards. When I was about to mount on horseback, Thákkefi requested that I would put on my European dress, as he was anxious to see how it looked; but, unfortunately, instead of an officer’s dress, which would certainly have pleased them very much, I had no European clothes with me except a black dress suit, which could only impress them with a rather unfavourable idea of our style of clothing, and although they approved of the trowsers, they could scarcely fail to think the shape of the coat highly absurd. But having never before seen fine black cloth, they were surprised at its appearance, and, at a distance, all the people mistook it for a coat of mail, as most of them had been accustomed to see only red cloth.

Pursuing then, my proposed excursion, I observed also, below the village, some fine groups of date-palms. I also assured myself that the creek of Gógó, at least at this season of the year, is quite unnavigable, although I could not understand why the modern capital of the Songhay empire was not built on the open river, the only advantage derived from its actual situation being that the small creek forms a kind of close harbour, which affords protection to the boats, and may easily be defended in case of need. As for the site of the former capital Kúkiya, or Kúgha, I am sorry I did not arrive at a distinct conclusion respecting it.

Having followed the bank, as far as the point where the creek joins the principal branch of the river, I felt myself induced, by the precarious state of my companion’s health to retrace my steps. This indisposition of the Sheikh’s nephew influenced the choice of my companions on my return journey; as it had been originally the Sheikh’s intention to send his nephew along with me as far as Sókoto. In his place another, but more distant relation of the Sheikh, Mohammed ben Mukhtár, an energetic, and intelligent young man, but of a less noble turn of mind, was appointed; and besides him, there was the Hartáni Málek, son of a freed slave, who was to return with the lastnamed messenger from Támkala; then Mústafa, and Mohammed Dáddeb, the latter a native of Timbúktu, who were to return from Sókoto, and Áhmed el Wádáwi, and Háj Áhmed, who were to return from Bórnu.

In the evening preceding our departure, our camp exhibited a busy scene, as we were engaged in finishing our preparations for the journey, the Sheikh undertaking the outfit of one half the messengers and I the other; but the presents, also, which the latter destined for the chiefs of Negroland, were delivered to me, in order that I might take them under my care. He had, besides, the goodness to supply me with some native cotton and tobacco, to distribute as presents to the Tawárek and Songhay on our road: he also gave a dress to each of my companions, I doing the same to those among his pupils who had been most attached to me. I even felt induced to make a present of a very handsome tobe from Sansándi, richly ornamented with silk, which I had intended to take with me as a specimen of that very interesting manufacture, to Sídi Mohammed, a son of the Sheikh, who had accompanied us, and who, on account of our long absence from the town, was rather shabbily dressed at the time.

[Footnote 37: L. vii. c. 3.]

[Footnote 38: Journal Leipsic Oriental Society, vol. ix. p. 549.]

[Footnote 39: A translation of this letter will be given in Appendix IV.]

[Footnote 40: The Gá-béro are divided into the following tribes: the Shédibé, the Bwájil, the Sillánche (the latter probably so called from the well known town Silla), the Ágades, and the Gorrong.]

[Footnote 41: This young man actually came to Tripoli in the course of last summer, but the unfortunate state of Indian affairs, and other circumstances, together with an illness common with people coming from the interior, which attacked both him and his companions, prevented his coming to this country.]

CHAP. LXXIX.

SEPARATION FROM THE SHEIKH. — CROSS THE RIVER TO THE SOUTH-WESTERN SIDE. — VARIOUS ENCAMPMENTS. — RIVER STUDDED WITH ISLANDS. — ANSÓNGHO.

[Sidenote: Saturday, July 8th.]

At length the day dawned when I was, in reality, to begin my home- journey, for all our former movements along the river had rather resembled the wanderings of the natives themselves than the direct march of a European traveller, and, although I felt sincerely attached to my protector, and under other circumstances might still have found a great many objects worthy of my investigation and research in this region, I could not but feel greatly satisfied at being at length enabled to retrace my steps homeward, with a tolerable guarantee as to my safety. It was highly gratifying to me that when I left this place a great many people wished me a hearty farewell and a prosperous journey; nay, Thákkefi even commissioned me to offer his special regards to Queen Victoria, with whose name I had made him acquainted.

Having then pursued our march through the level tract along the river, which here forms a great north-southerly reach, and which, from having been full of life, is now empty and desolate, we reached the site of the encampment of the Kél e’ Súk on the sandy eminence which we had passed a few days before, but which was now deserted. From thence we descended into the swampy ground towards the river, and here passed by a Songhay hamlet, the inhabitants of which received us with their usual inhospitality, and even refused us a little water,—an unkind feeling which displeased me most from a young newly married lady, who, standing in front of her neat hut of matting, with her fine figure and varied ornaments of all sorts of beads, presented quite an attractive appearance. Turning then round a creek filled with water, we reached an encampment of Kél e’ Súk, and pitched our tent. For, although it was our intention to cross the river as soon as possible, yet no boats having as yet arrived, we were so long delayed that evening came on before we could carry out our design; and obstinately refusing to be separated from my luggage, I preferred crossing the river together with my people and effects the next morning. Our hosts possessing a great number of cattle, we were well treated, and I was able to indulge in plenty of milk. The Tawárek have a common name for the whole north-easterly bank of the river. They call the whole of it to the north-west of Gógó, Táramt, and to the south-east, Ághelé.

[Sidenote: Sunday, July 9th.]

This was the day when I had to separate from the person who, among all the people with whom I had come in contact in the course of my long journey, I esteemed the most highly, and whom, in all but his dilatory habits and phlegmatic indifference, I had found a most excellent and trustworthy man. I had lived with him for so long a time in daily intercourse, and in the most turbulent circumstances, sharing all his perplexities and anxieties, that I could not but feel the parting very severely. Having exhorted the messengers whom he was to send along with me, never to quarrel, and to follow my advice implicitly in all cases, but especially with regard to the rate of progress in the journey, as he knew that I was impatiently looking forward to my home journey, he gave me his blessing, and assured me that I should certainly reach home in safety. Mohammed ben Khottár, who in consequence of his serious indisposition was prevented from accompanying me any further, and the Sheikh’s eldest son, Sídi Mohammed, did not take leave of me until I was in the boat. When I had safely landed on the opposite shore, I fired twice a farewell, in conformity with the request of the Sheikh.

The river here, at present, was studded with sandbanks, which greatly facilitated the crossing of my camels and horses, although between the sandbanks and the south-westerly shore there was a deep channel of considerable breadth. The locality where I touched the south-western bank of the river is called Góna, a name identical with that of a place of great celebrity for its learning and its schools, in the countries of the Mohammedan Mandingoes to the south. The sandy downs were lined with a fine belt of trees. Three different paths lead over these downs into the interior, the most important being the track leading straight to Dóre, the chief place of the province of Libtáko, and joining, at a very extensive lake or backwater, called Khalébleb, the road leading to the same place from Burre to the south of the island Ansóngho, lower down the river. At present, a broad swampy lowland spread out between the downs and the brink of the river.

The chief of my companions, Áhmed el Wádáwi, being once more called beyond the river into the presence of the Sheikh, we did not leave this place till a late hour in the afternoon, keeping along the low swampy shore. After a while, an open branch approached us from the river on our left, forming an island of the name of Berta. Here an animated scene presented itself to our eyes. An immense female hippopotamus was driving her calf before her, and protecting it from behind, her body half out of the water, while a great number of “agamba” and “zangway,” crocodiles and alligators, were basking in the sun on the low sandbanks, and glided into the water with great celerity at the noise of our approach.

Here the swampy shore presented some cultivation of rice, while, on the opposite side, the river was bounded by the rocky cliffs of Tin-shéran, but the sandy beach, which a week previously had been animated by the numerous encampments of the Gá-béro, was now desolate and deserted, and we continued our march in order to find out their new camping-ground.

While ascending a spur of rising ground called Gúndam, a fierce poisonous snake made a spring at my mounted servant, who was close behind me, but was killed by the men, who fortunately followed him at a short distance. It was about four feet and a half long; and its body did not exceed an inch and a half in diameter.

Having then kept along the slope for a little more than a mile, we again descended into the grassy plain, and reached a considerable creek, forming a series of rapids gushing over a low ledge of rocks, and encompassing the island of Bornu-Gungu, where the Gá-béro were at present encamped. The creek being too considerable to allow of our crossing it with all our effects, we encamped between it and the swamp, in a locality called Júna-bária; and I here distributed amongst my companions the articles which I had promised them.

The river, at this point, was frequented by several hippopotami, one of which, in its pursuit of good pasturage in the dusk of the evening, left the shore far behind it, and was pursued by my companions, who fired at it, without however hurting it or preventing its reaching the water.

[Sidenote: Monday, July 10th.]

It was a beautiful morning; and while the Wádáwi crossed over to the island in order to fetch a supply of rice, I had sufficient leisure to look around me. The shore on this side presented little of interest, and was only scantily adorned with trees, but the island was richly clothed with vegetation. The only interesting feature in the scenery was the opposite shore, with the imposing cliffs of Bornu, where we had been encamped some time before. When at length we started, we were soon obliged to leave the shore in order to avoid an extensive swamp, and approached the hills, at the foot of which we had to cross a small creek, which during a great part of the year forms the border of the river itself, and then continued along the downs. Numbers of people, who had their temporary abode in the swampy plain, came to pay me their compliments.

These people are called Gá-bíbi, a name which is said to have reference to their black tents, which distinguish them from the matting dwellings of the Gá-béro. I was here not a little surprised at the swarms of locusts which the wind drove into our faces, and which certainly indicated our approach to more fertile regions. Proceeding in this manner, we reached a fine camping-ground in an opening of the slope of the downs, through which a path led to the interior, thus giving to the herds of cattle access to the river, and therefore called Dúniyáme, “the watering-place of the cattle.” A fine hájilíj afforded a cool shade, the vegetation in general consisting only of fernán, retem, and bú-rékkeba, and we at once decided to halt here, in order to await our guide, Hamma- Hamma, one of the Gá-béro, who had gone to visit his family, but had promised to rejoin us at this spot. The situation of our camping-ground afforded us an interesting prospect over the valley; and numbers of the inhabitants of the neighbouring hamlets and camps visited us in the course of the evening, and even supplied us with a tolerable provision of milk late at night.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, July 11th.]

The guide who was to accompany us as far as Say not having arrived, I had great difficulty in inducing my companions to set off without him: and we started at an early hour, keeping along the sandy downs, which a little further on became adorned with the rich bush called “indérren,” or “kólkoli,” while ledges of rock obstructed the river. Gradually the downs decreased in height, and the melancholy-looking fernán succeeded to the fresh indérren, but its place was supplied for a while by the richer tabórak. The locality was called Alákke, and further on, Dérgimi; but fixed settlements of any kind are, at present, looked for in vain in these districts. In Áussa, however, on the north-eastern side of the river, we left, first a hamlet called Dergónne, and, further on, a place called Ághadór, which, as the name indicates, must have been formerly a walled place. West from Dergónne is probably the halting place Shínjeri, and Ághadór is most likely identical with a place called Eben-efó-ghan, said to be hereabouts. The opposite bank, gradually sloping down and being clad with large trees, bore the appearance of a pleasant, cultivable country, while the shore on this side the river likewise improved; altogether it seemed as if we had left the desert far behind us. I am not sure how the country here is called; but I think that the district called Ázawágh may reach down to the eastern border of the river. The Niger was for a moment entirely free from rocks, forming a magnificent open sheet of water; but further on it again became obstructed by isolated cliffs.

Meanwhile, as we pursued our march steadily onwards, at a short distance from the bank, in a S.S.E. direction, the Kél e’ Súki, Mohammed e’ Telmúdi, entertained me, from the back of his tall méhari, with a description of the power of the Tárki chief, El Khadír, the southern verge of whose territory we had passed on our outward journey, and now again turned round the northern side of it. The chief, at this time, was encamped about three days from here, towards the west, collecting, as we were told, an expedition against the principality of Hómbori, the governor of which claims dominion over the whole district. There are even here several settlements of Fúlbe, a troop of whom we fell in with, and recognized in them young noble people, who in their countenances bore evident traces of a pure descent. Their idiom was closely related to the dialect of Másina. During the spring, however, the Tárki chief generally frequents the banks of the river, which then afford the richest pasturage.

Gradually the green shore widened, and formed a swampy ground of more than half a mile in breadth, adorned by a line of trees which, during the inundation, likewise becomes annually submerged by the water. The valley is bordered on this side by steep banks of considerable elevation. As soon as I became aware of the swampy character of the plain, which greatly retarded the progress of my camels, I endeavoured to strike across the swampy ground, and to reach the firm bank again; but had considerable difficulty in doing so.

The bank was adorned by a growth of the finest trees, which gave to the river scenery a peculiar character, and invited us to halt during the hot hours of the day. We therefore encamped opposite Tongi, a hamlet lying on a low swampy island, separated from us by a considerable open creek, and ruled over by a man of the name of Sálah, who was a brother of Hamma-Hamma, the very man who was to serve us as a guide, but who had broken his word. The people, who seemed to be called Dekíten, behaved very hospitably, sending us immediately upon our arrival cows’ and goats’ milk as a refreshment, and giving us in the course of the afternoon a bullock for our further entertainment. I have already mentioned, I think, on a former occasion, how cruelly the inhabitants of these regions treat oxen which have been destined for slaughter, although in general they are rather mildly disposed towards animals. In conformity with their barbarous custom, my companions broke the hind legs of the animal which had been given us as a present, and allowed it to drag itself about in this state until they found it convenient to slaughter it.

While detained here the remainder of the day, I had the pleasure of meeting, among the people who crossed over to us from the island, an old man who had a very lively remembrance of Mungo Park, and who gave me an accurate description of his tall commanding figure, and his large boat. He related, besides, the manner in which the Tawárek of the tribe of the Íde-Músa, the name of whose present chief is El Getéga, attacked that mysterious voyager near Ansóngho, where the river is hemmed in by rapids, but without being able to inflict any harm upon him, while the intrepid Scotchman shot one of his pursuers, and caused two to be drowned in the river.

It was altogether a fine camping-ground, the talha and siwák being thickly interwoven with creeping plants; but a heavy thunder-storm, accompanied with rain, which lasted almost the whole of the night, rendered us rather uncomfortable. Besides this circumstance, the fact that the people of the Sheikh could only with difficulty be induced to forego the companionship of our guide, lost us here the best half of the day. But I collected a good deal of valuable information, especially with regard to the chief settlements of the independent Songhay, as, the famous towns of Dárgol, Téra, and Kúlman, situated between the river and our former route through Yágha and Libtáko, which I shall give in the Appendix.[42]

At length I succeeded, at a rather late hour in the afternoon, in stirring up my companions; and, leading the way, we crossed from this advanced headland a swampy creek which separated us from the main, and then kept along the rising ground, which was richly clad with vegetation, and from time to time formed recesses, as the one called Tennel, the river being now more open. But further on it became obstructed by cliffs and rocks, till at length, after a march of about seven miles, the river, which here formed a fine bend, assuming a south- easterly direction, exhibited an open undivided sheet of water, and on this account forms the general place of embarkation, called Ádar- andúrren, properly “the small branch,” meaning evidently here a narrowing of the river; for people going from Kúlman to this part of Áussa generally cross here. A little higher up there is a hamlet called Tabáliat, inhabited by sherífs, with a chief named Mohammed. Just at that moment some people were crossing over, but, when we horsemen hurried in advance, they immediately took to flight with their boats, leaving behind them some slaves and four or five pack-oxen, and all our shouting was not able to convince these native travellers of our peaceable intentions. Here, owing to a small creek which runs closely at the foot of the hills, we were obliged to ascend the rising ground, and, rather against the advice of our more prudent Kél e’ Súki guide, encamped on the heights, which were clad with rich herbage, but covered with great quantities of the feathery bristle. This spot afforded a commanding view over the surrounding country, but on this very account appeared less secure for a small party; and notwithstanding the elevation, the camping-ground was greatly infested by mosquitoes, which almost drove our camels to distraction, and troubled our own night’s rest not a little.

But the view which I here enjoyed over the northern end of the island, round which the river divided into four branches, was highly interesting to me, as being one of the places along the river best known to the natives as scenes where that heroic voyager from the north had to struggle with nature as well as with hostile men. Our fires having given to those poor lads who had been left behind by their frightened masters an opportunity of discovering what kind of people we were, they took courage and came to us, when we learned that they were Kél e’ Súk, who had paid a visit to Kúlman, and were now returning home. They also informed us, that the crocodiles had devoured one of the pack-oxen, upon their attempting to swim them across the river.

[Sidenote: Thursday, July 13th.]

Breaking up our encampment at an early hour, we descended, when the branch nearest to us again assumed an open character tolerably free from rocks; but after a short time we were again forced by a ridge of sandstone about twenty feet high, which here formed the bank of the river, to ascend the higher ground. We thus obtained a clearer prospect over the whole valley, which at this spot attains a breadth of from four to six miles, the ground being open, and the view only for a short time shut in by a dense grove of gerredh and talha trees.

Further on the river afforded a very wild spectacle, a sketch of which is represented in the plate opposite. In the distance before us, the iron gates of Akarámbay became visible, bordered by the high sandy downs of Tidejitíten; a grand mass of rock, like an immense artificial wall, with a strong northerly dip, started up from the creek; and from the extensive grassy island of Ansóngho similar masses appeared, which rose to an elevation of from seventy to eighty feet. Gradually the shore became more stony and barren, forming a plain called Erárar-n-tésawel, by the Tawárek, and Farri, by the Songhay. We passed a deserted hamlet which had formerly been inhabited by the Íde-Músa, and here the river again approached nearer on our left, but after a short time it again receded and became obstructed by ledges of rocks, especially at the place called Tazóri, where an uninterrupted ridge of cliffs breaks through the surface of the water. Even at this season of the year, it leaves a small channel beyond the grassy shore, which evidently connects the open water above and below the rapids.

About 1500 yards below this ledge, in a south-easterly direction, we reached the iron gates of Akarámbay, where the river, or at least this westerly branch of it, is forced through between two considerable masses of rock, at present from thirty-five to forty feet high, and about as many yards distant from each other. On the right, the sandy downs rise to a considerable elevation opposite a large hamlet, situated on the island Ansóngho, and adorned with dúm-palms.

Following a south-easterly direction, in a short time we reached the place where the several branches into which the river had divided at Ádar-andúrren again join; but being full of ledges and rocks, at least in the present low state of the water, they exhibited a wild and sombre aspect. The river, however, does not long retain this character, and a little more than half a mile below, it widens to a broad and tolerably open sheet of water, the shore, which hitherto had been clothed only with the gloomy fernán, being now beautifully adorned with an isolated tamarind tree, which (together with the dúm-palms on the island of Ansóngho), might well serve as a landmark to people who would attempt to ascend this river. But the hills, which ascended to a height of 300 feet, approached so closely the bank of the river, that we were obliged to ascend the steep slope, which was thickly clothed with fernán, and being torn by many small watercourses, scarcely afforded a passage for the camels.

Descending from the slope, we reached the Teauwent, or place of embarkation of Burre, a hamlet lying on the opposite shore, but at present deserted, where the river forms only a single branch, from 800 to 900 yards wide, and a little further on about 1000, and on the whole unobstructed, with the exception of a few rocks near the shore. Having here passed a rocky cone, projecting into the river, we encamped near a cluster of anthills, formed by and adorned with the bushes of the Capparis sodata; but it was a very inauspicious place, as the camels, not finding food enough in the neighbourhood, were, through the negligence of Ábbega, lost in the evening, and it cost us the whole forenoon of the following day to find them again. When we at length started, I was obliged to yield to the wishes of my companions, who, in order to obtain some supplies for their journey, were most anxious to halt near a small farming village of a Púllo settler, Mohammed-Sídi, a distant relation of Mohammed-Jebbo, who had settled here several years before amongst Tawárek and Songhay; and my friends, having been informed that this person was a pious and liberal man, felt little inclination to forego such an opportunity of receiving a few alms.

Having encamped on a high ground rising to considerable elevation, we had an extensive view over the river, which was here again broken by rocky islets and intersected by ledges, so that, seen from this distance, in several places it appeared almost lost. Beyond, on the other shore, across this labyrinth of rapids and divided creeks, filling a breadth of two to three miles, were seen the two mountains of Ayóla and Tikanáziten, where, in the time of the chief Káwa, a bloody and decisive battle was fought between the Dinnik and the Awelímmiden. Towards the south, on the contrary, a fertile and well cultivated plain, bordered by low hills, where the crops of native millet were just shooting forth, stretched out, nothing but retem and fernán, breaking the monotonous level.

The hamlet of our host consisted of only six huts; but the district did not seem to be uninhabited, and in the course of the day a considerable number of Fúlbe and Songhay collected around us, and troubled me greatly, begging me to impart my blessing to them by laying my hand upon their head, or spitting into a handful of sand, and thus imbuing it with full efficacy for curing sickness, or for other purposes. Even the river did not seem quite destitute of life and animation, and the previous evening, while I was enjoying the scenery, seated on the cliffs at some distance from our camping-ground, two boats filled with natives passed by, and procured me an interesting intermezzo.

[Sidenote: Saturday, July 15th.]

The good treatment that we received here seemed to please my companions so much, that they tried to detain me another day by hiding one of their camels behind a bush and pretending it was lost. When at length I had found it, and was on the point of setting out to pursue my journey, a very heavy thunderstorm broke out; and, although I persisted in proceeding, the rain became so violent that I was obliged to halt for fully an hour, near some bushes that protected us a little from the heavy gale which accompanied the torrents of rain. Here, also, the river was obstructed by a great number of rocks, while the adjacent grounds were partly cultivated, but only sparingly clad with trees, till, after a march of a couple of miles, rich talha trees and gerredh began to appear; but even here groups of rocks cropped out from the surface. Thus keeping along at some little distance from the river, we encamped shortly after noon at the foot of a sandy eminence, and were very glad when we were enabled to dry our wet clothes and recruit our strength with a dish of mohamsa.

Having ascended the rising ground in order to obtain a view of the mountains on the opposite shore, I went down to the river and enjoyed the wild scenery of the rapids, which here also obstructed its course, forcing this westerly branch to a velocity of perhaps six miles an hour, intersected by flat cliffs, which at present were only a few feet out of the water. A fine belt of trees lined the bank at a short distance from the edge of the river, the islands also being clad with rich vegetation, and, altogether, the locality seemed to me worthy of a slight sketch, which has been represented in the plate opposite. I had hitherto looked in vain all along the shore for traces of the elephant, but I discovered that this part is visited by them in great numbers. The place is called Tiboráwen. Having indulged in quiet repose for several hours, we were joined by our companions, who, seeing that I was not to be detained by their tergiversations, were anxious to come up with us.

[Sidenote: Sunday, July 16th.]

Keeping a short distance from the river, first in a more winding and then in a south-westerly direction, we entered, after a march of three miles, more undulating and fresher pasture-grounds; but stony ground soon began to prevail, although without entirely excluding vegetation. Here, before we reached the cape called Immánan, meaning the fish-cape, the several branches of the river united, while a grassy lowland was attached to the higher bank which bounds the river during the period of its inundation. This fresh grassy tract, full of herbage and trees, was awhile interrupted by the high ground attached to the cape; but as soon as we had left the naked hills behind us, we descended into a lovely little valley or ravine, which in a winding course led us to the beach of the river, which here formed a magnificent reach; but a little further on, at a place called Ekeziríden, it was broken by a ledge of rocks, which stretched almost across its whole breadth, and, at this season at least, made it totally unnavigable. A short distance beyond, a second ledge set across the river, while a little further on a rocky islet, overgrown with rich vegetation, caused the stream to divide. The bank itself now became stony, micaslate protruding everywhere, and we ascended a small ridge, which formed a higher cone at some distance on our right, while on our left it formed a promontory jutting out into the river. The whole district is called Béting.

Having descended from this small ridge, we approached nearer the river, which was here tolerably free from rocks, and then entered a dense but short tract of forest, full of the dung of the elephant, and traces of the footsteps of the banga or hippopotamus. Here we had to cross several watercourses, at present dry, one of which is called Galíndu, and is said to be identical with the Búggoma, which we had crossed with so much difficulty before reaching the town of Áribínda. But rocky ground soon prevailed again; and another promontory jutted out into the water, the river, which on the whole has here a south-south-westerly direction, being once more broken by cliffs.

A little further on we encamped opposite a hamlet called Waigun, which was just building, while another one of the same name was lying a little higher up the river. However we derived no advantage from the neighbourhood of this little centre of life, for having no boat at our disposal we were not able to communicate with those people ourselves, and they, on their part, felt little inclination to make our acquaintance, as they could not expect that we should be of much use to them, except in lightening their stores. My companion, the Kél e’ Súki, with shouts endeavoured to intimate to the people that their sovereign lord Bozéri was himself present; but this artifice did not succeed. The Ímelíggizen, or their slaves, who dominate both shores, are ill-famed on account of their thievish propensities; and we protected ourselves by firing a good many shots in the course of the night.

[Sidenote: Monday, July 17th.]

Pursuing our course at an early hour, generally in a south-westerly direction, we reached, after a march of about four miles, a fine running stream, about twenty-five feet broad and fifteen inches deep, traversing a beautifully fresh vale, the slopes of which exhibited traces of several former encampments of the Tawárek. It joins the river at a spot where it forms an open and unbroken sheet of water, and greatly contributes to enhance the whole character of the scenery, although, about 1200 yards below, it was again broken by a ledge of rocks crossing almost the whole breadth of the river, but mostly covered by the water, even at the present season. About 500 yards below this ledge a small island lies in the midst of the river, occupied almost entirely by a village called Kátubu, consisting of about 200 snug-looking huts, which were most pleasantly adorned by two beautiful tamarind trees. But the peace of the inhabitants appeared to have been disturbed, as they had probably heard our firing during the night, and were therefore on their guard. Five or six boats, filled with men, lay around the island at various distances, most probably spying out our proceedings, although some of our party thought that they were fishing.

We here left the beach for awhile, and ascended the higher ground, which rose to a greater height, cutting off a curve of the shore. The river, further on, was again broken by a ledge of rocks, but so that a passage remained open on the side of Áussa: and shortly afterwards the various branches joined, and formed a fine noble reach. The country now became more hilly and better wooded, being clad with retem, besides kórna and hájilíj. Numerous ponds of water were formed in the hollows, and antelopes of various species, including that called “dádarít,” were observed. Leaving then a path leading to a place called Tákala, situated at a distance of about fifty miles inland, in a south-easterly direction, we reached, about a quarter past ten o’clock, the highest point of this undulating ground, from whence we obtained a view over a wild and gloomy-looking forest-region, behind which the river disappeared, after having enclosed a well-wooded island called Sakkenéwen.

From this higher ground we descended into a fine rich vale, the vegetation of which was distinguished by a few busúsu, ághanát, or tamarind trees. Emerging from this richly-clad valley, we again obtained a sight of the river—if river it can be called—for seen from hence it looks almost like an archipelago or network of islands and rocky cliffs in the wildest confusion, the river foaming along through these obstructed passages. For just as it turns round a cape, which juts far out to the N.N.W., and is continued under water towards the opposite shore in a long reef of rocks, forming a sort of semicircle, it is broken into several branches by a number of islands, through which it makes its way, as well as it is able, over cliffs and rocks, in such a manner, that along this south-westerly shore there is no idea of navigation even during the highest state of the river, but on the Áussa side it is more open, and renders navigation possible, although even there caution is evidently necessary. I have no doubt that this is one of the most difficult passages of the river. The name of the cape is Ém- n-íshib, or rather Ém-n-áshid, “the cape of the ass.”

Having passed a place where the most westerly branch forms a small waterfall of about eighteen inches elevation, foaming along with great violence, we encamped on the slope of the green bank, adorned with fine herbage and luxuriant hájilíj, in full view of this wild scenery. I made a sketch of it from the highest ground near our halting-place, which is occupied by a small cemetery, the locality having been formerly enlivened by a hamlet of the Ímelíggizen, of the name of Lebbezéya. This encampment was also important to me, as I here had to take leave of our guide, Mohammed Kél e’ Súki, whom I had vainly endeavoured to persuade to accompany me as far as Say, although he would have had no objection to have fulfilled his promise, if our other guide, Hamma-hamma, had not broken his word, and stayed behind, for, alone, he was afraid to trust himself to the Fúlbe. It was, moreover, his intention to proceed from here on a visit to his friends, the Událen. Convinced, therefore, of the justice of his arguments, I gave him his present, although I missed him very much, as he was an intelligent man, and had given me some valuable information.

[Footnote 42: See Appendix V.]

CHAP. LXXX.

DENSER POPULATION BEGINS.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, July 18th.]

The beginning of our journey without a guide was not very fortunate; for, having set out first from our encampment, endeavouring to cut off the great windings of the river, with my camels and my three freed blacks, my companions, in the dawn of the morning, lost the traces of my footsteps upon the grassy undulating ground, and it was some time before they joined me. The ground became at times stony, talha, gerredh, and other species of mimosas, being the predominant trees; and after a march of eight miles, we had to ascend another ridge, clothed with thick forest, where the kúka, or tédumt, the monkey bread-tree, which I had not seen for so long a time, was very common. This was an almost certain sign of the locality having once been a centre of human life, but at present only the traces of a former ksar, or hamlet, were to be seen. Having then crossed a small “rek,” or “faire,” that is to say, a barren, naked plain, we descended again, while the desolate character of the country continued, and the only signs of human life which we observed were the traces of two men, with three head of cattle, probably robbers from the other side of the river, who were returning to their haunts with their booty. But gradually the country assumed a more cheerful aspect, being clad with large trees, and exhibiting evident signs of former cultivation, while isolated masses of rock were projecting here and there. The country altogether was so pleasant, that having met with a shallow pond of water, in a trough-like cavity of the grassy ground, we decided on encamping, for it was with great difficulty that I was able to drag on my companions more than fifteen miles a day at the utmost.

However, we had scarcely pitched our tents, when we became aware that our camping-ground close beyond the belt of trees with which it was girt, was skirted by a small rivulet, which although full of rocks was yet so deep, that it afforded sufficient room for crocodiles or alligators, and was not fordable here. It was a pity that we had not a guide with us who might have given us some clear information respecting the features of the country, for the conjecture of my companions[43], who fancied that this rivulet took its rise to the south of Hómbori, where it was called Ágelé was quite absurd if it be correct that the Galíndu which we had crossed the preceding day was really the lower course of the river near Áribínda; but it is very difficult to say how these courses correspond, and nothing is more likely than that the same watercourse may join the Niger by several openings. As it was, we had a long dispute as to the manner in which we should cross this water, and the following morning we had to take a tedious roundabout way to get over it.

After a march of two miles from our starting point we reached a crossway. We followed the advice of the Wádáwi, who, having taken the lead at the moment, chose the path to our left, though that on the right crosses the rivulet at this spot; but in the end it was perhaps as well that we did so, as otherwise we should scarcely have been able to ford it. We therefore continued our march after my companions had finished their prayers, which, as we always set out at an early hour, they used to say on the road. The open pasture grounds were here broken by large boulders of granite, while the rivulet, girt by fine large trees, approached on our right, or at least one branch of it, the river dividing near its mouth into a delta of a great many smaller branches. We here changed our direction, keeping parallel along the shore of the great river, where on a rocky island was situated the village of Ayóru or Airu, from whence a troop of about twenty people were just proceeding towards their field labours. Most of them were tall, well made men, almost naked, with the exception of a white cap and a clean white cotton wrapper. Two or three of them wore blue tobes. Their weapons consisted of a bow and arrows, or a spear, and their agricultural implements were limited to a long handled hoe of a peculiar shape, such as is called jerrán by the Arabs, and kámbul by the Songhay. But besides a weapon and implement, each of them bore a small bowl, containing a large round clod of pounded millet, and a little curdled milk, which they hospitably offered to us, although it constituted their whole supply of food for the day. We rewarded them with a few needles and by repeating the fat-há or opening prayer of the Kurán.[44] It was, moreover, very fortunate that we had met them just here, as, if not directed by their information, we should scarcely have been able to cross without accident these numerous creeks, some of which were of an extremely boggy nature, and others obstructed by rocks, which caused us considerable delay; for the principal branch or góru of the rivulet was not less than about thirty-five yards broad, and about two and a half feet in depth, with a rocky bottom. Fine busúsu, or tamarind trees, and wide-spreading duwé, or fig trees, adorned the delta, while a good deal of a kind of grain called “adelénka,” or “donhére,” was cultivated in the fields.

Having at length left this difficult delta of small rivulets behind us, which may occasionally cause great trouble to a traveller, we ascended sandy downs, and obtained from thence a view over the whole valley, which here rather resembles a large well-timbered fáddama than a river, only a small open branch becoming visible, not obstructed by rocks. The district exhibited a good deal of cultivation, the fields of Ayóru extending for more than two miles, and the low shore of the creek was adorned further on by a rich profusion of kenya or tedúmunt. The richly- wooded islands afforded a very pleasant sight, one of them being enlivened by a great number of horses, which were left here to pasture, and the shore formed one uninterrupted line of tamarind trees. But the navigation may be very difficult here, as from time to time, the river, or at least as much as we saw of it, became greatly obstructed by rocks. It was pleasing to observe that we had at length entered more hospitable regions, for a short time after we left behind us the fields of Ayóru, cultivated ground again succeeded, and apparently very well kept.

Having then turned round a swampy gulf, we ascended higher ground, and now obtained a view of the remarkably wild scenery of the river which attaches to the island of Kendáji and the rocky cone Wárba, which had been in sight all the morning, and encamped, at half-past eleven o’clock, on a rising ground at some distance from the island. The river here presented a very wild character, so that it almost seemed as if the navigation was interrupted entirely. Between the island of Kendáji and the rocky cone there really does not appear to be any passage open; but beyond the island there are evidently two more branches, and, as far as it can be seen from here, they are not nearly so much obstructed by rocks. The village seemed to be of considerable size, the huts covering the whole surface of the island; but, at the time of our arrival, not a living soul was to be seen, with the exception of an unfortunate man who was lamed by Guinea-worm, all the healthy people having gone to the labours of the field. But in the course of the afternoon the scenery became pleasantly enlivened by the arrival of a numerous herd of cattle and a flock of sheep, belonging to Fúlbe settlers in the neighbourhood, that were brought here to be watered.

Gradually, also, the inhabitants of the village returned from their labours, and began to give life to the scenery, crossing over to their insulated domicile in small canoes. Others, in the company of their chief, came to pay us a visit. The latter was a man of tall, stout figure, but of not very intelligent expression of countenance, and, as it appeared, not of a very liberal and hospitable disposition, for he received the eloquent address of my noble friend the Wádáwi, who adduced all the claims which he and his party had upon the chief’s hospitality, very coldly, answering through the medium of a Púllo fáki who had been staying here for some time, and rather laying claim himself to a handsome present than acknowledging the demands made upon him by my companions for hospitable treatment. The most interesting feature about this petty chief was his name, which reminded one of the more glorious times of the Songhay empire, for he called himself “Farma-Érkezu-izze;” “farma” being, as I have said on a former occasion, the princely title of a governor; “izze” means son, Érkezu being the name of his father. It was also highly interesting to me to observe that these Songhay, the inhabitants of Kendáji as well as those of Ayóru, call themselves, in their native language, Kádo (in the singular) and Hábe (in the plural form); a name which the Fúlbe have made use of to indicate, in general, the Kóhelán, or the native black population of all the regions conquered by themselves; and it seems almost as if the latter had taken the name from this tribe.

Besides these Songhay, we also received a visit from a Tárki gentleman of the name of Mísakh, son of Ellékken, and nephew of Sínnefel, the chief of the Ímelíggizen of Áribínda. These people are on hostile terms with their brethren in Áussa, where the populous district Amára is situated, and thus, fortunately, undermine their own strength, which is only employed in the way of mischief, although they are still strong enough to lay heavy contributions upon the poor Songhay inhabitants of these distracted shores. They had levied, the preceding year, a tribute of four horses on the people of Kendáji, and a camel, together with a quantity of corn, upon those of Ayóru. But although our guest, who was accompanied by two or three followers, was a rather decent young man, nevertheless, the neighbourhood of these Tawárek inspired us with just as little confidence as the behaviour of our friends the Songhay on the island; and we kept a good watch, firing the whole night. Nothing is more probable than that Park had a serious quarrel with these islanders.

Fortunately we were not disturbed; and we set out from our camping- ground at a very early hour, in order to make a good day’s journey, but we were first obliged to search about in the two hamlets which lie opposite the island, and one at the very foot of the rocky cone of Wárba, for the guide that had been promised to us the preceding day. We had scarcely set out fairly on our march, when a heavy thunderstorm rising in the south-east, threatened us with a serious deluge, and obliged us to seek shelter under some trees to the right of our path. We then unloaded the camels, and endeavoured to protect ourselves and the luggage, as well as possible, with the skins and mattings; but the storm was confined to a very violent gale, which scattered the clouds, so that only very little rain fell. Having thus lost almost two hours of the best part of the day, we proceeded on our march, not now digressing to the right and left, but following a broad, well trodden path, which led us through carefully cultivated cornfields, shaded with fine hájilíj. But soon the ground became more undulating, and we followed a sort of backwater, at some distance from the principal branch of the river, and then crossed a cavity or hollow, where calcareous rock interrupted the granite. The river also, in its present low state, laid bare a good many rocky islets, and further on divided into five branches, over which, from the rising bank, we obtained an interesting view, with a cone, on the Áussa shore, towards the north. One of the islands was handsomely adorned with dúm-palms, while the shore was clothed with a plant called “hekík.”

This district appeared to be extremely fertile, and its populous state, after the desolate region which we had traversed, seemed the more remarkable; for soon after, having passed a small hamlet, we had on the opposite shore the considerable place Tornáre, and just beyond, on an island, another village called Fíchile, densely inhabited and full of life and bustle. Scarcely had we passed this busy place on our left, when another hamlet appeared called Kochómere, and it was most gratifying to behold the river, which, during the greater part of our journey, had seemed to roll its mighty stream along without the least use being made of it, covered with small canoes, which carried over to our shore numbers of people who were going to the labours of the field. The bank itself also became here beautified by a variety of luxuriant trees, such as the kéwa, the dingi, the baúre, the hájilíj, and others of various species, the hájilíj, especially, exhibiting here a very luxuriant and rich growth. A sort of shallow grassy creek separated from the bank a low island, which, during the highest state of the inundation, is under water.

Two miles beyond Tornáre the character of the country changed and deep sandy soil, clothed with the herbage called rodám, and destitute of trees, succeeded to the fine arable soil; but after a march of about a mile, cultivation again appeared, and even extended over the hilly chain which we ascended. We then passed a slave village called Gandútan, belonging to the Tárki chief, Mohammed el Amín, where numerous horses were seen grazing in the fields, distinguished by the kind of herbage called by the Arabs el debédi, in which my companions were delighted to recognize an old friend of theirs, as growing also plentifully in the Áberas of Timbúktu. Crossing the plain, where we met several travellers, we began to ascend the slope of a promontory called Ém-Aláwen, and soon reached the residence of the chief just mentioned, who is the head of one of the two divisions of the Erátafáni. The village consisted of 150 to 200 huts of matting, with a larger and a smaller leathern tent in the centre; but as it did not offer any cool shade, being perched on the bare hot gravel overlying the rock, we thought it very uninviting, and preferred descending the steep eastern slope, upon the narrow slip of the low shore which stretched along the river, and which, being richly clothed with hájilíj, baúre, and other trees, offered a very pleasant resting-place. We were, however, not allowed to enjoy much repose, but were soon visited by the whole male population of the village, Tawárek and Songhay, full-grown men and children, who gathered round us with great curiosity, but without entering into close conversation, as they did not know what to make of me, and scrutinized suspiciously what my real character might be, my companions passing me for a sheríf.

Later in the afternoon the chief himself, who had not been present on our arrival, paid us a visit, and behaved in a very becoming manner, so that I made him a present of half a lithám, while I distributed a quantity of needles amongst his people. The place was tolerably well supplied with provisions, and I bought a good supply of butter and rice; but milk was scarce, although I succeeded in bartering a small quantity for some dates, of which these people were extremely fond. A little below our encampment, on the low shore, there was a farm, and on the island nearest the shore, two small hamlets; for the branch of the river, which in general appears to be of considerable depth, was studded with green islands, which stretched out lengthwise in two parallel rows, being of the same height as the bank on which we were encamped, and which at present formed a steep descent to the shores of the river of about ten feet, rendering the watering of the horses very difficult. It was only with the utmost exertion that we rescued one of them which fell into the stream.

The whole district is said to be greatly infested by lions, and we saw the remains of four horses, which a single individual of that species had torn to pieces the preceding day; but, notwithstanding the strength and ferocity of this animal, I was assured by all the inhabitants that the lion of this region, like that of Áír, has no mane, and that its outward appearance was altogether very unlike that beautiful skin upon which I used to lie down, being the exuviæ of an animal from Lógone.

[Sidenote: Friday, July 21st.]

On our way hither the preceding day, we had been overtaken, near the village of Gandútan, by a band of some three or four Songhay people, who had rather a warlike and enterprising appearance, and were very well mounted. Having kept close to us for some time, and spoken a great deal about my arms, they had disappeared, but at a very early hour this morning, while it was yet dark, and we were getting our luggage ready for the day’s march, they again appeared and inspired my companions with some little fear, as to their ulterior intentions. They therefore, induced the chief of the Erátafáni to accompany us for a while, with some of his people on horseback; as they were well aware that the Songhay who at present have almost entirely lost their independence, cannot undertake any enterprise without the connivance of the Tawárek. But as for myself I was not quite sure who were most to be feared, our protectors, or those vagabonds of whom my companions were so much afraid; for although the chief himself seemed to be a respectable man, these people, who are of a mixed race of Tawárek and Songhay, do not appear to be very trustworthy, and I should advise any traveller in this region to be more on his guard against them than against the true Tawárek. But under the present circumstances when they accompanied us on the road, I thought it better to tell them plainly who I was, although my companions had endeavoured to keep them in the dark respecting my real character. They had taken me for a Ghadámsi merchant, who wanted to pass through their territory without making them a suitable present. After I had made this confession they became much more cheerful and openhearted, and we parted the best of friends. The cunning Wádáwi also contributed towards establishing with them a more intimate relation, by bartering his little pony for one of their mares. Nothing renders people in these countries so communicative, and at the same time allays their suspicions so much, as a little trading.

Having separated from our friends, and made our way with some difficulty through a tract of country partly inundated, we at length fell in with a well-trodden path, where on our right a low hilly chain approached. Here a little dúm-bush began to appear, and, further on, monkey-bread trees adorned the landscape; but the river, after having approached for a short time with its wide valley, retired to such a distance, that not having provided a supply of water, we began to suffer from thirst. I therefore rode in advance and chose a place for a short halt during the midday heat, where a sort of fáddama, which during the highest state of the inundation forms a considerable open sheet of water round an island thickly clad with dúm-palms, indents the rising bank of the river, offering, even at the present time, a handsome tank of clear water. The surrounding slope was adorned with a fine grove of dúm-palms, and, protected by the shade of some rich hájilíj, produced a great profusion of succulent herbage.

Having rested in this pleasant spot for a couple of hours, we pursued our march along this green hollow at present half dried up, and feeding also a good many tamarind trees, and after a march of about half a mile, reached the spot where this shallow branch joins a considerable open arm of the river, which here is tolerably free from rocks. A little below, it is compressed between rocky masses projecting from either bank, intersecting the whole branch, so that only a narrow passage is left, enclosed as it were by a pair of iron gates formed by nature. Yet the navigation was not obstructed even at the present season, as a boat about thirty-five feet long and rowed by six men, which went quickly past us, evidently proved. The path was lined with mushrooms, called by my companions tobl e ndéri.

This branch of the river presented a very different aspect when, after having ascended a rising ground, we had cut off a bend or elbow of the river, for here it formed a kind of rapid, over which the water foamed along, and from the circumstance of the boat having followed another branch, this locality did not seem to be passable at present. The low shores, which are annually inundated, and even now left swampy ground between us and the river, were cultivated with rice; the higher ground, rising above the reach of the inundation, bordered by a belt of damankádda and thorny bushes, was reserved for millet; and beyond, the whole valley, which is here very broad, is bordered by a mountainous chain. The rocky nature of the river was further demonstrated by a remarkable group of rocks rising from an island a little further on, and affording a very conspicuous landmark; but, in general, this part of its course seems to be free from cliffs.

We had long strained our eyes in vain in order to obtain a sight of the large town of Sínder, which we knew to be situated on an island, till at length, from a hilly chain which here borders the river, we obtained a fair sight of the whole breadth of the valley, and were able to distinguish an extensive range of huts spreading over one or two islands in the river. Here, therefore, we encamped at the side of a few huts, although it would have been more prudent, as we afterwards found, to have chosen our encampment a little lower down the river, where a channel leads straight to the island of Sínder, with which we wanted to open communication; while, from the spot where we actually encamped, another considerable island-town called Garú lies in front of it.

The whole valley, which is probably not less than from six to eight miles broad, and is studded with extensive islands, is very fertile, and tolerably well inhabited. The two towns together, Garú and Sínder, according to the little I saw of them, did not seem to contain less than from 16,000 to 18,000 inhabitants, and are of the utmost importance to Europeans in any attempt to navigate the upper part of the river, as they must here prepare to encounter great difficulties with the natives, and at the same time ought here to provide themselves with corn sufficient to carry them almost to Timbúktu. For Sínder, which in some respects still acknowledges the authority of the governor of Say, is also the market for all the corn used in this district. A large quantity of millet can at any time be readily obtained here, and during my journey was even exported in large quantities to supply the wants of the whole of the provinces of Zabérma and Déndina. Notwithstanding this great demand, the price was very low, and I bartered half a suníye of dukhn, equal to about two hundred pounds’ weight, for a piece of black cloth, feruwál, or zenne, which I had purchased in Gando for 1050 shells, a very low price indeed, not only when we take into account the state of things in Europe, but even when we consider the condition of the other countries of Negroland. I was also fortunate enough to barter the eighth part of a lump of rock salt from Taödénni, for eight drʿa of shásh or muslin; but as for rice, it is difficult to be got here, at least in a prepared state, although rice in the husk, or kókesh, is in abundance.

A great many people visited me, and altogether behaved very friendly. In this little suburb, where we had encamped, there was staying a very clever fáki, belonging originally to the Gá-béro, and called Mohammed Sáleh. To my great astonishment I became aware that this man was acquainted with my whole story; and, upon inquiring how he had obtained his information, I learned that a pilgrim, named Mohammed Fádhl, a native of the distant country of Fúta, who, being engaged in a pilgrimage, had undertaken the journey from Timbúktu along the river in a boat, had acquainted the people with all my proceedings in that place. This fáki also informed us of the present state of Háusa. He told us that Dáúd, the rebellious prince of Zerma, or Zabérma, after his whole army had been cut to pieces by Ábú el Hassan, had made his escape to Yélu, the capital of Déndina, where the rebels were still keeping their ground. Meanwhile ʿAlíyu, the Emír el Múmenín, had arrived before Argúngo, but in consequence of his own unwarlike character, and a dispute with Khalílu, to whom that part of Kebbi belongs, had retraced his steps, without achieving anything worthy of notice. But I learned that, owing to the revolt continuing, the Dendi were still in open rebellion, and that, in consequence, the road from Támkala to Fógha was as unsafe as ever, although part of the Máuri had again returned to their allegiance.

I should have liked very much to visit the town of Sínder, but not feeling well, and for other reasons, I thought it more prudent to remain where I was; for, besides the fact that the governor himself is only in a certain degree dependent on the ruler of Say, there were here a good many Tawárek roving about, which rendered it not advisable for me to separate from my luggage; I therefore gave a small present to my companions, which they were to offer to the governor in my name. In consequence of this they were well received; and the governor himself came to meet them half-way between the towns of Sínder and Garú, and behaved very friendly to them.

[Sidenote: Sunday, July 23rd.]

After a rainy night, we left this rich and populous district, in order to pursue our journey to Say. Keeping close along the bank of the river, our attention was soon attracted by some young palm bushes covered with fruit, which caused a long dispute between my people and the followers of the Sheikh, part of them asserting that it was the oil-palm, while others affirmed it to be the date-palm. This latter opinion appeared the correct one, considering that the oil-palm does not grow at any distance from salt water; for on our whole journey through the interior, we had only met with it in the valley of Fógha, which contains a great quantity of salt. This opinion was confirmed by further observation, when we discovered the male and female seeds, which wanted nothing but the civilising influence of man in order to produce good fruit. Without an artificial alliance of the male and female, the fruit remains in a wild and embryo-like state. Thus keeping along the shore, we passed several islands in the river, first Juntu, and at a short distance from it Bisse-gúngu; further on Kóma and Bossa, adorned with a fine growth of trees; and about five miles from our halting-place, after we had passed a small hilly chain called Mári, the island of Néni, which is likewise richly timbered. This island is remarkable on account of its being the birthplace of the great Songhay conqueror, Háj Mohammed Áskíá, or Síkkíá.

Our march was the more interesting, as we were so fortunate as to be accompanied by the fáki Mohammed Sáleh, whose acquaintance I had made during my stay near Garú. He was very communicative and social, and I regretted that I was not allowed to traverse in his company the whole territory of the independent Songhay in various directions. He dwelt particularly on the distinguishing character of Dargol, the principal seat of the free Songhay, especially the Koi-zé, with the remains of the royal family of the Síkkíá, of which several princes were still living.

My companion also informed me of the attack which the natives of Gurma under the command of their chief Wentínne, in conjunction with the Songhay, had made a short time previously upon the emír of the Toróde, or Tórobe. He likewise gave me an account of the extensive dominion of Dáúd, the grandfather of ʿOmár, the present chief of the Erátafán, who succeeded in founding a large kingdom, when he was murdered by a rival nephew, and all his power was annihilated.

Our sociable and well-informed companion now left us. A little lower down the river on the opposite bank are the villages of Tilla-béra and Tilla-kaina, which are governed by ʿOthmán, a relation of Mohammed Tondo. The whole country is undulating, covered with rank grass, and adorned with hájilíj, and altogether left a pleasing impression; while here and there, cultivated ground, with crops shooting up to the height of from two to four feet, gave some variety to the landscape. A little further on, large monkey-bread trees appeared; and beyond that, besides talha, of a rather luxuriant growth, kalgo also became plentiful. The river was at some distance from the path, so that we encamped a little after noon in the midst of the forest, near a swampy pond full of herbage and musquitoes, and surrounded with large luxuriant monkey-bread trees and fine sycamores. I felt here extremely feverish, and was obliged to take a good dose of medicine.

[Sidenote: Monday, July 24th.]

Having been detained by a heavy thunder-storm, we at length started, traversing a dense forest full of monkey-bread trees, and extending about two miles. We then turned round a large swampy inlet, when a hilly chain approached on our right, and the shore of the river was clad with a rich bush called yéu by my companions.

About two miles beyond, we reached a hamlet called Ázemay spreading out on a hill, and encamped a short distance beyond towards the south-east. The village is inhabited by Tawárek of the tribe of the Erátafán, who have exchanged their nomadic habits for those of settlers, but without giving up their character or language. A few Kél e’ Súk live amongst them; but nearly half the population of the village consists of Fúlbe, of the tribe of the Zoghorán, this settlement presenting the remarkable instance of a peaceful amalgamation of these two tribes. But the Erátafán, as I have stated above, have lost their former power, although under the dominion of Dáúd, they held all the towns as far as Say under their sway. Notwithstanding their diminished power, they appeared to be well off, for not only were they dressed decently, but they also treated us hospitably with excellent furá, the favourite Háusa dish of sour milk with pounded millet; and in the evening they sent a great quantity of pudding and milk, and a young heifer.

I here provided myself with a supply of corn, as I had been given to understand that it fetches a high price in the market of Say. I found that the price already far exceeded that of Sínder, one feruwál of Gando buying only twenty-three kél of millet; but my camels were extremely weak, and one had died the preceding night, so that I was not able to carry with me a greater supply. As for rice, none was to be had, and no cultivation of this grain was to be seen, although it might be supposed to succeed here, the river being wide and forming a large island called Délluwé.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, July 25th.]

The good treatment of the people of Ázemay made my companions rather unwilling to leave this place so soon, and a further delay was caused by their bartering. When at length we set out on our march, we had to make a considerable detour, in order to avoid the lower course of a rivulet, which is here not passable. Our path lay through corn-fields till we reached the village of Kasánni, consisting of two groups, one of which was surrounded by a keffi, or stockade, and inhabited by Fúlbe; the other was merely a slave hamlet. Rich corn-fields, shaded by fine trees and broken by projecting rocks, extended on all sides. Close beyond this hamlet, we crossed a little rivulet called Téderimt by the Tawárek, which in this spot, although only twenty-one feet wide and a foot in depth, caused us a short delay, owing to its banks rising to the height of about ten feet. But inconsiderable as was the size of the river, it became important to me, as in crossing it my ear was greeted for the first time by the usual Háusa salute, which I had not heard for so long a time, and which transported me once more into a region for which I had contracted a great predilection, and which among all the tracts that I had visited in Negroland, I had found the most agreeable for a foreigner to reside in.

We then continued our march through the district of Góte, which is chiefly adorned with the monkey-bread tree, till we reached a small village called Bóse, which is inhabited by the tribe of the Koi-zé or Koizáten (who came originally from Damgót). It consisted entirely of the kind of huts which are usual in Háusa, and manifested that we had left the Songhay architecture behind us. But although it possesses a small mosque, most of the inhabitants, together with the head man himself, are idolaters. Here we were hospitably treated with a bowl of ghussub-water, while I had to give the people my blessing in return. Two miles and a half beyond Bóse lies the village of Hendóbo, on a small branch of the river. We encamped a short distance from it, in the shade of a luxuriant duwé, on a ground rising slightly from the swampy plain opposite the island Barma-gúngu, which is situated a little further in the midst of the river, which here, from N. 20° W. to S. 20° E., changes its course to a direction from N. 20° E. to S. 20° W.

The island is adorned with dúm-palms, and is the residence of the chief of the Kortíta, or Kortébe, whose real name is Slímán or Solímán Géro Kúse-izze, the son of Kúse, but who is generally known in the district under the name of Solímán Sildi. My companions, who were very anxious not to neglect any great men of the country, had determined to pay this chief a visit, in order to try to obtain a present from him. But the eloquent Wádáwi and his companions did not appear to have succeeded with these islanders; for they returned with rather dejected spirits from their visit to the chief, who showed us not the slightest mark of hospitality. But, from another quarter, I myself, at least, was well treated; for the inhabitants of a small island in the river brought me a plentiful supper in the evening, consisting of prepared millet, a couple of fowls, and some milk.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, July 26th.]

Traversing the swampy ground, after a march of half a mile we reached again the direct path, keeping at some distance from the bank of the river, which, although divided into several branches, exhibited a charming spectacle in the rising sun. Cultivated ground and wilderness alternated, and the monkey-bread tree appeared in great abundance; but further on the duwé and kenya began to prevail; the islands in the river also, as Nasíle and Ler, being richly clad with vegetation.

However, the district did not seem to be very populous, and the only village which we passed on the main was Shére, surrounded by a stockade, where we endeavoured, in vain, to obtain a little milk. We left, at a distance of several miles to the west, the town of Larba, which, as I have mentioned on my outward journey, is inhabited by a warlike set of people greatly feared by their neighbours; but at present we heard that the ruler of that town, of the name of Bíto, had lately returned from Say, to whose governor, Ábú Bakr, he was said to have made his submission; although it is probable that his only intention had been to keep free that side, in order to be undisturbed in his proceedings against the chief of the Toróde, or Tórobe.

Altogether the region presented a very interesting feature when, close behind the village of Gárbegurú, we reached the river Sírba, with which, in its upper course, we had first made acquaintance at Bóse-bángo, but which here had a very different character, rushing along, in a knee-like bend, from south-west to north-east, over a bed of rocks from sixty to seventy yards across, and leaving the impression that at the time when it is full of water it is scarcely passable. But at present we found no difficulty in crossing it, the water being only a foot deep. Nevertheless, the Sírba is of great importance in these regions, and we can well understand how Bello could call it the ʿAlí Bábá of the small rivers. Ascending then the opposite bank of this stream, we obtained a view of a hilly chain ahead of us, but the country which we had to traverse was at present desolate, although in former times the cornfields of the important island-town Koirwa spread out here. However, we had a long delay, caused by another of our camels being knocked up, so that we were obliged to leave it behind; an unfortunate circumstance, which afforded a fresh proof of the uselessness of the camels of the desert tract of Ázawád for a journey along the banks of the river.

The country improved greatly after we had crossed a small hilly chain which approached on the right, but it did not exhibit any traces of cultivation, the inhabitants having taken refuge on the other side of the river. We also passed here a pretty little rivulet of middle size, girt by fine trees, and encamped close beyond the ruins of a village called Namáro, opposite the village of Kuttukóle, situated on an island in the river. The place was extremely rich in herbage, but greatly infested by ants, and, in consequence, full of ant-hills; but we only passed here the hot hours of the day, in order to give our animals some rest, and then set out again just as a thunderstorm was gathering in Áussa on the opposite side of the river.

The sheet of water is here broad and open, forming an island, and does not exhibit the least traces of rocks. The shore was richly clad with vegetation, and a little further on seemed even to be frequented by a good many people; but they did not inspire us with much confidence. Meanwhile, the thunderstorm threatening to cross over from the other side of the river and reach us, we hastened onward, and encamped on the low and grassy shore, opposite a small village called Wántila, situated on an island full of tall dúm-palms, which however, at present, was only separated from the main by a narrow swampy creek. However, we had a sleepless night, the district being greatly infested by the people of Larba. The governor of this place, as we now learned, was then staying in the town of Karma, which we had just passed, and from whence proceeded a noise of warlike din and drumming which continued the whole night.

At an early hour, therefore, the next morning we set out, keeping at a short distance along the river, the ground presenting no signs of cultivation, while the steep slope on the opposite bank almost assumed the character of a mountain chain; the highest group being from 800 to 1000 feet in height, and called Bingáwi by our guide, while he gave to the succeeding one the name of Wágata; the most distant part of the chain he called Búbo. At the foot of this ridge lies the village of Tagabáta, which we passed a little further on.

Enjoying the varied character of the scenery, we continued our march rather slowly, an ass which my companions had bartered on the road lagging behind, and causing us some delay, when we entered a dense underwood of thorny trees which entirely hemmed in our view, while on our right a hilly chain approached, called from a neighbouring village Senudébu, exactly like the French settlement on the Falémé in the far west.

Proceeding thus onward, we suddenly observed that the covert in front of us was full of armed men. As soon as they became aware that we had observed them, they advanced towards us with the most hostile gesticulations, swinging their spears and fitting their arrows to their bows, and we were just going to fire upon them, when we observed amongst them my servant the Gatróni, whom a short time before I had sent to fetch some water from the river. This fortunate circumstance, suddenly arrested our hostile intentions and led to a peaceable understanding. We were then informed, that obtaining a sight of us from a hill while we were still at a distance, and seeing six armed horsemen, they had taken us for a hostile host, and had armed themselves; and it was very fortunate for my servant with whom they first met, as well as for ourselves, that one of them understood a little Háusa, and was able to make out from his description the nature of our undertaking. But for this, we should perhaps have been overwhelmed by numbers. The first troop consisted of upwards of 100 men, all armed with bow and spear, and round black shields, many of them wearing a battle-axe besides; and smaller detachments were posted at short intervals up to the very outskirts of their village. They consisted of both Songhay and Fúlbe, and the greater part wore nothing but leather aprons. They wanted us to accompany them to their village, but we did not feel sufficient confidence in them to do so, and were glad when we got rid of them. On this occasion I had another proof of the warlike character of my Arab companion ʿAlí el Ágeren, who, as long as there was any danger, kept at a respectful distance behind the camels, but, as soon as he saw that all was over, he rushed out on his little pony in the most furious manner, and threatened to put to death the whole body of men, so that I had great difficulty in appeasing him. Probably, if we had had a serious encounter, he would have turned his horse’s head, and I should never have seen him again.

When we continued our march, we were gratified to see a wide extent of ground covered with fine cotton plantations; on our left, where the river again approached, much kharrwa, or berkínde, appeared. Further on, fields of millet succeeded to the cotton plantations, and the cultivation now continued without interruption, extending to the slope of the hills, while, on the other side of the river, five villages appeared at short intervals. We then entered upon hilly sandy ground, but even this less favoured tract was covered with fine crops. I had made it a rule, owing to the weakness of my camels, which required a good feed, always to encamp at some distance from a larger place, and we therefore chose our camping-ground about two miles on this side of the town of Bírni, amongst monkey-bread trees and hájilíj, at a short distance from a swampy creek of the river. Our encampment, however, became unpleasant in the extreme, as we had to sustain here a very heavy thunderstorm, accompanied by violent rain.

All the inhabitants of this district are Fúlbe, or Songhay speaking the language of the Fúlbe, the conquering tribe of the latter beginning to prevail here almost exclusively. All of them wear indigo-dyed shirts. We also met here an old man, originally belonging to the tribe of the Událen, a section of Imghád, or degraded Tawárek, but at present in the service of a Púllo, who, assisted by his slaves, was just getting his harvest into the town of Bírni, where he invited us to follow him on the approach of night.

[Sidenote: Friday, July 28th.]

Having lost the greater part of the morning in order to dry ourselves and our animals, we continued our march straight upon a kind of defile, which seemed almost to hem in the passage along the river. The bank here exhibits a peculiar feature, and the locality would be of the highest importance, if the state of the country was in any way settled, for the hilly chain on the right closely joins a group of rocky eminences which nearly approaches the river, and opening towards it in the shape of a horse-shoe, leaves only a very narrow passage between the south-easterly corner of this semicircle of the hills, and a detached cone rising close over the brink of the river, the latter being likewise full of rocks. On the slope of the amphitheatre, called Sáre-góru, about half-way up the height, lies the village or town of Bírni[45], presenting a very picturesque spectacle, notwithstanding the frail character of the dwellings.

Even beyond this passage, only a small border is left between the slope of the hills and the river, especially behind the little village of Kollónte, which is separated by a small ravine into two distinct groups, and very pleasantly situated in a fine recess of the hills; at the same time, busy scenes of domestic life attracted our attention. Here the shore formed a bend, and the river glided along in a slow, majestic, and undivided stream, but a little further on formed two islands, and, on the main, we observed again that cotton was cultivated. Traversing then a swampy plain, covered with several large farms belonging to people of the Kortére, we reached a small detached chain on our right, called Kirogáji, distinguished by three separate cones. Cultivation here is carried on to a great extent, and the number of horses scattered over the plain, afforded a tolerable proof of the wealth of the inhabitants, and we passed the residence of a rich farmer, called Úro-Módibo, “úro” being the Púllo term for a farm, and “módibo” the title of a learned gentleman. At the village of Sága also, which, a little more than two miles further on, we left on our right, beyond swampy meadow-grounds, numbers of horses, and extensive cotton plantations attracted our attention.

Three miles beyond Sága, we encamped near a small rivulet lined with luxuriant trees, of the species called gamji, or ganki, at the foot of the hills, the slope of which was covered with the richest crop of millet, and crowned with two villages inhabited by Fúlbe of the tribe of the Bitinkóbe, the river forming a rich and populous island called Bé- gúngu. This place is the residence of a sort of emír of the name of Báte, to whom my companions paid a visit, and obtained from him a supper and a small viaticum.

[Sidenote: Saturday, July 29th.]

We made a very interesting day’s march. The hills, which are here crowned with the various hamlets, form a bend closely approaching the river, and the path wound along the slope, which was intersected by several ravines full of rocks and trees, and afforded a beautiful view over the stream. Descending from this slope we kept along the bank, richly adorned with kenya or nelbi trees, the river spreading out in one unbroken sheet, interrupted only by a few isolated masses of rock. We here crossed a broad channel or dry watercourse starting forth from the hilly chain, and called Górul-tilkólil, or Góru-kére. This watercourse my guide, probably erroneously, indicated as a branch of the river Sírba. It was succeeded by several others, one of which, distinguished by its breadth, was called Górul-luggul. The bank of the river, at this spot, was cultivated with great care, and we passed several farming villages, one of which, called Lellóli, was the residence of a young Púllo woman who had attached herself to our party the preceding day. She was neatly dressed, and adorned with numerous strings of beads, and mounted on a donkey.

Here cultivation, including a good deal of cotton, was carried on with great care, and all the fields were neatly fenced. But this well- cultivated ground was succeeded by a dense and luxuriant underwood, and, in the river, an island of the name of ʿOitílli, or ʿOtílli, stretched out to a great length. This probably is the ford originally called Ghútil or Ghúdil. A little beyond, at the distance of about five miles, the soft slope gave way to a small rocky ridge, through which a little rivulet or brook had forced itself a passage, forming a very picturesque kind of rocky gate, which, when the stream is full, must present an interesting spectacle. But the water contained at the time a quantity of ferruginous substances, and after taking a slight draught I remained in a nauseous state all the day long. It affected one of my companions still more unpleasantly. Here the steep rocky cliffs, consisting of gneiss and mica slate, and interwoven with fine green bushes, closely approached the river, which, in a fine open sheet, was gliding gently along at the rate of about three miles an hour, and we kept close to the margin of the stream, which, during the highest state of the inundation, is scarcely broad enough to afford any passage. The cliffs, with their beautifully stratified front, were so close that even at present only a border a few feet in width was left, and this narrow strip was beautifully adorned with dunku trees, the dark green foliage of which formed a beautiful contrast with the steep white cliffs behind them. The leaves are used by the natives for making a kind of sauce and for seasoning their food, like those of the monkey-bread tree. Further on, underwood of arbutus succeeded. The rocky ledge was interrupted, for a short time exhibiting the aspect of a crumbled wall, but further on again assumed the shape of precipitous cliffs, although less regularly stratified than in its north-westerly part.

This steep range of cliffs is called by the natives, “Yúri.” Just where it began to fall off and to become smoother, we were obliged to leave the margin of the beautiful stream, which, near the bank, apparently descended to a great depth, in order to ascend the higher ground; for here the land juts out into the river in the form of a broad promontory, the whole slope being covered with fine crops, which were just approaching to ripeness. Thus we reached the farming village, or rúmde, belonging to Fíttia Imám, or, as the name is generally pronounced, Mam Fítti, a wealthy Púllo, who possesses also a farm in the plain at the foot of the promontory close to the river. Here we encamped on the south-east side of the village, where the ground afforded good pasture for the camels.

I had been reposing awhile in the shade of a small kórna, when my people informed me that they had discovered, on the slope of the hills, a spring of living water, and I was easily induced, by the novelty of the phenomenon in this region, to accompany them to the spot.

The whole slope is about 500 feet high, and the view from this point across the river is extensive, but towards the south-east it is obstructed by the hills rising in that direction to a greater elevation. This culminating point of the ridge we ascended the next morning, when we found that the highest level expanded to an open plain, well clad with bush and grass and a rich supply of corn, although the crops did not exhibit here the same luxuriant growth as on the slope of the hills. Proceeding then for a mile along this level, we reached a small village, in the courtyards of which, besides sesamum, a little mekka, as it is here called, or ghafúli-másr, was cultivated. Here I, together with my horsemen, started in advance of my train, in order to prepare our quarters in the town of Say, as we had a good day’s march before us. The country here became adorned with gonda bush, of which we had entirely lost sight during our whole journey along the upper course of the Niger. Having passed the larger village Dógo, where with some difficulty we obtained a drop of milk, and having traversed a richly cultivated district, we descended into the valley of Say, along the rugged cliffs which bounded it on the west. But the greater part of the valley was covered with water to such a degree that we became entangled every moment in a swamp, and therefore preferred again ascending the cliffs and keeping along the higher border. In this northerly part the rocky slope attained in general a height of 150 feet, but gradually began to decrease in elevation. About half an hour before noon we changed our direction, and made across the swampy bottom of the valley, traversing two more considerable sheets of water, the first of three, and the second of two and a half feet in depth.

Thus we approached the town of Say, which was scarcely visible owing to the exuberant vegetation which surrounded its wall on every side, and which exhibited a most remarkable contrast to that dryness and monotony, which characterized the place on my former visit. The town itself was at present intersected by a broad sheet of water, which seemed almost to separate it into two distinct quarters. I at length reached the house of the governor, where I, as well as my horse, were cheerfully recognized as old acquaintances. I was quartered in the same little hut in which I had resided more than a year previously; but a considerable change had been made in its arrangement. The comfortable little sleeping place of matting had been restored, and was very acceptable in the rainy season, more especially as it did not entirely preclude a current of air, while it enabled me to put away all my small treasures in security.

[Footnote 43: Among my companions, the Hartáni Máleki, who had visited the countries of Mósi and Bámbara, possessed some interesting information concerning unknown, or little known, districts of these regions; but unfortunately he had something very uncouth in his manner, which prevented my learning from him all that would have been possible under other circumstances. This day I wrote down, from his information, the name of the pagan tribe of the Nenmer, who are settled between the Tombo and Bámbara; besides that of the Norma, who are chiefly settled in two places, one of which is called Púra.]

[Footnote 44: They informed us, that Kúlman was six hours’ distance from here.]

[Footnote 45: There is no doubt that this was formerly a place of considerable importance, and commanded the whole of the surrounding district, as the masters of this defile had at the same time in their hands the whole intercourse along the shore. In this respect the name Bírni is not less remarkable than that of Sáre-góru, both “bírni,” as well as “sáre,” being the names given to cities, or large walled places, in various Negro languages. Sáre-góru means the rivulet or channel (góru) of the city (sáre).]

CHAP. LXXXI.

SECOND RESIDENCE IN SAY. — JOURNEY THROUGH DÉNDINA AND KEBBI.

Having rested awhile in my hut, I, with my companions, obeyed the summons of the governor, and found our poor old friend, Ábú-Bakr, in the very same room where we had left him more than a year previously. He was now quite lame in consequence of his disease of señi, but looked a little better than on the former occasion, and I soon had an opportunity of admiring his accurate knowledge of the country; for, when Áhmed el Wádáwi, had read to him the kasáíd or poems addressed by my friend El Bakáy to the emír Áhmedu, and began to relate some of the more remarkable incidents of our journey, he was corrected every moment in the nomenclature of the places by the governor, who appeared to possess the most accurate philological knowledge of all the spots along the river as far as Tóndibi, where he had been obliged to turn his back on his voyage up the Niger. He apparently took great interest in the endeavour of the Sheikh to open a communication with the Fúlbe of Gando and Sókoto, and expressed his deep sorrow that on his former voyage, he was prevented by the hostile behaviour of the chief El Khadír from reaching Timbúktu, when my companions assured him, that the Sheikh, on the first news of his approach, had sent a messenger in order to insure his safety from the Tawárek.

Even if we do not take into account this attempt of his, there is no doubt that the governor of Say is of the utmost importance in the endeavour to ascend this river, and it is only to be lamented that he has not greater means, pecuniary and military, at his disposal, in order to draw from the favourable position of his province all the results possible. Altogether his circumstances at this moment, especially in consequence of the rebellion of the province of Déndina, were rather poor. At the same time his own debilitated condition prevents him from exerting his power, and can only tend to increase his political weakness. The rather inhospitable treatment which we received may thus be explained. Nevertheless, I made him this time a considerable present, including a red bernús of inferior quality, which I had kept back for the occasion. However I was so fortunate, in acknowledgment for some medicines with which I endeavoured to alleviate his complaint, as to receive from him a small piece of sugar, which was a great treat to me, as I had long been deprived of this luxury, there being none in the market; and when we left the place, after a stay of three days, he was generous enough to make my companions a present of a camel, of which they stood much in need.

The market was, in many respects, better provided than on our outward journey; but with this advantage was coupled the great disadvantage to me personally that a large troop of Háusa traders having recently arrived and richly supplied the market with the manufactures of that region, the prices at present ranged much lower, and for the very best indigo-dyed shirt, I obtained only 6000 shells, while two others did not fetch more than 2000 each. Millet was plentiful, although by no means cheap, the third part of a suníye, or twenty-four measures of Timbúktu, being sold for 4000 shells, consequently twice or thrice as dear as in the latter place; but there was hardly any rice. There was not a single sheep in the market, nor any horned cattle, either for slaughtering or for carrying burdens; nor were there any dodówa cakes or tamarinds; nay, even the fruit of the monkey-bread tree, or kúka, was wanting; the only small luxury which was to be found in the market, besides the fruit of the dúm-palm, consisting of fresh onions, certainly a great comfort in these regions.

Such is the miserable character of this market, which, in such a position, situated on the shore of this magnificent river, and on the principal highroad between Eastern and Western Negroland, ought to be of primary importance. It was with great delight that the feeble but well- meaning governor listened to my discourse, when, on taking leave, I led him to hope that an English steamer would, please God, soon come to ascend the river, and supplying his place of residence with all kinds of European articles, would raise it to a market-place of great importance; and he was the more agreeably affected by such prospects, as my friendly relation with the Sheikh El Bakáy had convinced him of the peaceable intentions of the Europeans.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, August 2nd.]

It was in the afternoon that we left our narrow quarters in the town of Say, which had appeared to us the more inconvenient, as we had experienced several thunder-storms, which had obliged us to take refuge in the interior of our narrow huts. Before reaching the bank of the river, we had to cross a large sheet of water, which here likewise intersected the town, filling out the whole hollow bordered by the dúm- palms, and causing a serious interruption in the communication of the different quarters of the town. Nevertheless, the level of the river at present seemed only about five feet higher than it had been the previous year, a little earlier in the season, and the inconvenience must be greatly increased when the water reaches a higher level. It is a wonder that the town is not sometimes entirely swamped, although we must not forget that the river, the preceding year, had attained an unusual height, so that the water this year could scarcely have sunk to its average level before it had again commenced rising. The rocky cliff which obstructs the river about the middle of its course, at present only emerged from the water about a foot and a half. According to all appearances it must sometimes be entirely submerged, so that vessels must be upon their guard in navigating this part of the river, especially as it is not improbable that there are more sunken rocks hereabouts.

It was with a deep feeling of satisfaction that I again crossed this magnificent river, on whose banks I had lived for so long a time, and the course of which I had followed for so many hundred miles. It would have been of no small importance, if I had been able to follow its banks as far as Yaúri, and thus to connect by my own inspection the middle course of this noble river with the lower part, as far as it has been visited by the Landers, and partly, at least, by various distinguished English officers. But such an undertaking was entirely out of the question, on account of the exhausted state of my means, the weak condition of my health, and the advanced stage of the rainy season, which made it absolutely necessary for me to reach Sókoto as soon as possible; and, what was still more, in consequence of the rebellious state of the province of Déndina, which at the time made any intercourse along the river impossible for so small a troop as I had then under my command. At this season of the year, moreover, it would be impracticable, even if the country were in a tranquil state, to keep close along the banks of the river.

This time also I had succeeded in crossing the river without any accident, with the single exception, that a camel which belonged to one of my companions was so obstinate, that it was found impossible to induce it to enter the boats, which were not of the same size as those of the preceding year. It was thus forced to cross the river by swimming alongside, and arrived in the most exhausted state, the river being about 900 yards across. The nearest village being too far off, we were obliged to encamp for the night on the gentle grassy slope of the bank, which, a little above and below the place of embarkation, forms steep cliffs of about 80 feet elevation. The evening was beautiful, and the scenery of the river, with the feathery dúm-palms on the opposite shore, was lovely in the extreme, and well adapted to leave on my mind a lasting impression of the magnificent watery highroad which Nature has opened into the heart of this continent. Thus I took leave of the Niger.

[Sidenote: Thursday, 3rd August.]

We now commenced our journey along our former well-known path, which, however, in the richer garment of vegetable life in which Nature had decked herself out, presented now a very different aspect, and after a march of six miles, we reached the village of Tóndifú, surrounded by fine crops of millet, which were almost ripe, and of the very remarkable height of fifteen to twenty feet. In order to protect their property from the attacks of the numberless swarms of birds, almost the whole population was scattered through this forest-like plantation, and kept up such a continual noise and clamour, that it had quite an alarming effect, more especially as the people were concealed from view.

Having then kept along the fáddama as far as the village of Tanna, we left our former route, for a more northerly direction, and after a march of five miles reached the miserable remains of a hamlet called Jídder, which the preceding year had been ransacked and entirely destroyed by the Jermábe, as the inhabitants of Zerma, or Zabérma, are called by the Fúlbe. But the fine crops around testified to the natural fertility of the soil. In this village, which has a well surrounded by dúm-palms, it had been our intention to halt; but through a ridiculous misunderstanding of my Méjebrí companion, who never could shorten the march sufficiently, but who this time was punished for his troublesome conduct, we continued on, and leaving the village of Hari-bango at some distance on our right, did not reach another hamlet till after a march of about five miles more. This place, which is called Mínge, had been likewise ransacked by the enemy in the turbulent state of the country, and exhibited a most miserable appearance; but here also there was a good deal of cultivation, and I was not a little astonished at finding, in such a desolate place, a man who was retailing meat in his hut, but on further inquiry, it proved to be the flesh of a sick animal, a few head of cattle having remained in the possession of the inhabitants.

In order to avoid sleeping in the dirty huts, I had pitched my tent on the grassy ground, but was so much persecuted by a species of hairy ant, such as I had not observed before, that I obtained almost less sleep than the preceding night on the banks of the Niger, where mosquitoes had swarmed.

[Sidenote: Friday, August 4th.]

This day brought me to Támkala; my camels pursuing a shorter and I a more circuitous route, but both arriving at the same time at the gate of this town. It had been my intention, from the beginning, to visit this place; but the turbulent state of the country had induced me the year before to follow a more direct road, and I did not learn until now, that on that occasion Ábú el Hassan, as soon as he heard of my approach, had sent four horsemen to Gárbo, in order to conduct me to his presence; but they did not arrive till after I had left that place. The town of Támkala, which gives great celebrity to this region, had suffered considerably during the revolution of Zabérma; and if the bulky crops of native corn (which were just ripe) had not hid the greater part of the town from view, it would most probably have presented even a more dilapidated appearance; for not only was the wall which surrounded the place in a great state of decay; but even the house of the governor himself was reduced almost to a heap of ruins. It was rather remarkable that, as I approached the building, a female slave, of rather light yellowish colour, saluted me, the white man, in a familiar manner, as if I had been a countryman and co-religionist of hers. She belonged, I think, to a tribe to the south of Ádamáwa.

Having then paid our respects to the governor, we returned to our quarters, which, although not so objectionable in themselves, were so closely surrounded by the crops that we could scarcely find a spot to tie up our horses; and the huts were so full of all sorts of vermin that I scarcely got a moment’s repose during my stay here. Besides the common plague of different species of ants and numberless swarms of mosquitoes, to my great surprise I found the place also full of fleas,—an insect which I had not seen since I had left Kúkawa, and which formerly was believed to be entirely wanting in Negroland. Thus I had sufficient reason to lament that I had here been obliged to take up my quarters inside the town; the place being situated at the brink of a swampy valley, the dallul Bosso filled at present with water and dúm-palms, and the crops surrounding the wall so closely that no space was left to pitch a tent.

It was just market-day, but besides meat, sour milk, tobacco, and pepper, nothing was to be got. Millet was very dear; indeed, the poor state of the market was well adapted to confirm the report that the greater part of the inhabitants were subsisting on the fruit of the dúm- palm. However, I had no affairs to transact in this town besides paying my compliments to the governor, and therefore was not compelled to make a long stay. But my business with the latter was of rather a peculiar character, the people assuring me that he was very angry with me for not having paid him a visit the previous year. My companions, the followers of the Sheikh, even wanted to make me believe that he objected to see me at all; but I entertained a strong suspicion that this was only a petty trick played by them to further their own interest; for, being supplied by the Sheikh with a present for this governor, they wanted to claim for themselves all the merit of the visit. Having declared that if the governor did not want to see me, he should certainly not obtain a present from me, I very speedily obtained an audience, and was so graciously received, that I could scarcely believe that he had entertained any hostile feeling towards me; for on my entrance he rose from his seat, or divan, made of reed, and met me at the door.

Responding to his cordiality in the most friendly manner, I told him that only the most urgent circumstances and the advice of my own guide, the messenger of Khalílu, had induced me the preceding year to act contrary to my own well-determined principle, which was, to make friendship with all governors possessed of power and authority along my road; and that, in consequence of his warlike disposition and straightforward and chivalrous character, he had become known to me long before, and occupied the first rank among those whom I intended to visit. My speech, backed by a tolerable present, made a very favourable impression upon the governor, especially when he understood that it was I who had induced the Sheikh to honour him with a mission; and he entered into a very friendly conversation, admitting that the Jermábe, or the inhabitants of Zerma, had really pressed him very severely the last year, till he had at last succeeded in vanquishing their host and killing a great number of them.

We then read to him the letter of the Sheikh, who bestowed great praise upon my character, and recommended me in the most favourable terms. Sídi Áhmed made a most eloquent speech, especially as regarded the sanctity and learning of his master, who, he said, was very anxious to establish peaceable intercourse along the Niger, and wanted Ábú el Hassan to prevent the Berber tribe of the Kél-gerés and Dínnik from continuing their predatory expeditions upon the territory and against the people of Alkúttabu. The energetic governor, feeling flattered by these compliments, took very graciously the hints which my eloquent friend threw out, that, besides his other noble efforts, the Sheikh had no objection to having homage paid to his exalted position by a small number of decent presents; and two of the pupils of the Sheikh, Mohammed ben Mukhtár and Máleki, were pointed out to him as the persons who would remain here, in order to receive at his hand the presents destined for the Sheikh at the earliest possible opportunity. This whole business having been transacted in the presence of only one or two of his most confidential friends, the governor had all his courtiers again called in, when Sídi Áhmed read to them the poem in which the Sheikh had satirized the chief of Hamda-Alláhi, Áhmedu ben Áhmedu, on account of his not being able to catch me, which caused a great deal of merriment, but of course could only be appreciated by those who had a very good knowledge of Arabic, of which the greater part of the audience probably did not understand a single word. It was rather a curious circumstance that these people should express their satisfaction at the failure of an undertaking of their own countrymen.

Altogether Ábú el Hassan made a favourable impression upon me. He was by no means a man of stately appearance, or of commanding manners, and his features wanted the expressive cast which in general characterises the Fúlbe; and being destitute of any beard, he looked much younger than he really was, as his age can certainly not be much under sixty. His skin was very fair, and his dress of great simplicity, consisting of a shirt and turban of white colour, the red bernús which my companions had presented to him only hanging loosely from his shoulders. He is a native of the island of Ansóngho where his forefathers were settled from ancient times; and it is entirely owing to his personal courage and his learning that he has reached the position he now occupies. Ábú el Hassan, seems fully to deserve to be under the orders of a more energetic liege lord than the monkish and lazy Khalílu, who allows his kingdom to be shattered to pieces; and in any attempt to ascend the Niger, the governor of Támkala is of considerable importance. The principal weakness of his position consists in his want of horses, as he is thus prevented from following up the partial successes which he at times obtains over his enemies.

Having thus met with full success in our transactions with the governor, we left the audience hall, (which struck me by its simple mode of architecture,) consisting of a long narrow room covered with a gabled roof thatched with reed, such as are common in Yóruba. On returning to my quarters I distributed my last presents among those of my companions who were to remain here, and handed them a letter for the Sheikh, wherein I again assured him of my attachment to his family, and expressed the hope that, even at a great distance, we might not cease to cultivate our mutual friendship.

It had been our intention this time to choose the road by Junju, the place which I have mentioned before as lying on the northern part of the course of the dallul Máuri; but the governor advised us urgently to avoid this place, which, being only of small size, and not strong enough to follow a certain line of policy, was open to the intrigues of friends as well as enemies.

[Sidenote: Sunday, August 6th.]

Before we started, the governor sent me a camel as a present, but I gave it to my companions, although my own animals were in a very reduced state. There was a good deal of cultivation along the track which we pursued, but the irregular way in which the crops had sprung up, did not seem to testify to any considerable degree of care and industry; but my people argued that famished men, like the distressed inhabitants of this town, did not possess sufficient energy for cultivating the ground.

Following a southerly direction we approached nearer the border of the dallul, or ráfi, the surface of which alternately presented higher or lower ground, the depressions being of a swampy character. Towards the east the valley was bordered by a chain of hills, rising to a considerable elevation, on the top of which an isolated baobab tree indicated the site of a place called Gʿawó, by which the road leads from Támkala to Junju. Gradually the cultivation decreased, and was for a while succeeded by dúm-bush, from which a very fine but solitary gamji tree started forth. However, the country further on improved and began to exhibit an appearance of greater industry, consisting of corn-fields and small villages, half of which indicated by their names their origin from the Songhay; others pointed to Háusa. All of them were surrounded by fine crops, and one called Bommo-hógu was furnished with a small market-place. It was a cheering incident that an inhabitant of the village of Gátara, which we passed further on, gave vent to his generous feelings by presenting me with a gift of fifty shells, which I could not refuse, although I handed them to my companions. It was here also that we met the only horsemen whom we had seen in the province. They had rather an energetic and stately appearance. Having passed a small market-place situated in the midst of the corn-fields, and at present empty, we reached the village of Báshi, where we expected to find quarters prepared for us, but were only able, after a great deal of delay, to procure a rather indifferent place.

We were glad to meet here a native traveller, or mai-falké, from Wurno, who communicated to us the most recent news from Háusa and Kebbi, although very little was to be told of the chivalrous deeds of the two great Féllani chiefs ʿAlíyu and Khalílu, both of whom were accelerating the ruin of their nation. About an hour after our arrival, we were joined by a native duke, who, according to the arrangement of the governor of Támkala, was to perform the journey through the unsafe wilderness of Fógha in our company. This man was ʿAbdú serkí-n-Chíko, lord of Chíko, or, to speak correctly, lord of the wilderness; his title, or “ráwani” (properly shawl or turban), being just as empty and vain as many others in Europe, the town of Chíko having many years previously been destroyed by the enemy. But, whatever the hollowness of his title might be, he himself was of noble birth, being the son of ʿAbd e’ Salám[46], who was well-known as being once the independent master of the important and wealthy town of Jéga, which had made so long and successful resistance against ʿOthmán, the Jihádi; Bokhári, the present ruler of that place, was ʿAbdú’s brother. Besides his noble descent, the company of this man proved to be interesting, for he displayed all the pomp peculiar to the petty Háusa chiefs, marching to the sound of drums and horns. He was richly decked out with a green bernús, and mounted on a sprightly charger, although his whole military force numbered only three horsemen and six archers; and his retinue had by no means a princely appearance, consisting of a motley assemblage of slaves, cattle, sheep, and all sorts of encumbrances. But, notwithstanding this empty show, he was a welcome companion on the infested road before me, and when he paid me a visit in my hut, I at once presented him with a fine black ráwani, thus confirming on my part the whole of his titles. He at once proceeded to give me a proof of his knowledge of the world and of his intelligence, and I found sundry points of resemblance between him and Mohammed-Bóró, my noble friend of Ágades. Having been joined here also by two attendants of ʿAbd el Káderi, a younger brother of Khalílu, there seemed to be a sufficient guarantee for the safety of our march. The village where I fell in with these people was rather poorly supplied with provisions, and neither milk nor anything else was to be got, and, owing to the number of mosquitoes, repose was quite out of the question.

[Sidenote: Monday, August 7th.]

A moderate rain which came on in the morning, delayed us for some time. Our route lay through a rich country, at times exhibiting traces of careful cultivation, at others left to its own wild luxuriant growth. Having passed the village of Belánde, which was adorned by numbers of dúm-palms, and the extensive hamlet called Úro-emíro, we entered more properly the bottom of the valley or ráfi, being already at this season for a great part covered with swamps, which, a month later, render the communication extremely difficult, although at times, the ground rises a few feet higher than the ordinary level. But although this low ground is extremely well adapted for the cultivation of rice, very little was at present actually to be seen.

At length we thought that we had entirely left the swampy ground behind us; but about a mile and a half beyond the village Gerláje, which we left on one side, we had to cross a very deep and broad swamp, in which one of the last of my camels fell down and died. Three miles beyond, we reached the village of Gárbo, which was already familiar to me from my outward journey, although I was scarcely able to recognize it, so great was the change produced by the rich vegetation, and the crops of millet and sorghum which had sprung up through the influence of the rainy season. But the inhabitants also, elated by the hope which the prospect of a rich harvest held out to them, exhibited a far more cheerful temperament than on my former visit, and immediately led me through the narrow lanes to the house of the emír, who received me in a hearty manner as an old friend. On entering into conversation with him, I was not a little astonished to find that he was acquainted with all the incidents of my stay in Timbúktu. He quartered me in the same small but neatly arranged hut where I had been lodged during my former stay, and from which I felt rather sorry to drive away the industrious landlady. The governor treated me in an extremely hospitable manner, sending me, besides milk and corn, even a small heifer, although I had made him only a very trifling present. His name is ʿAbd el Waháb, and he is a brother of Ábú el Hassan by his father’s side. With such cheerful treatment we enjoyed our stay here very much, the weather having cleared up, and a rainy morning being succeeded by a fine afternoon.

The friendly disposition of the governor was the more agreeable, as we were delayed here the following day, several of my companions being disabled by sickness, and the Serkí-n-Chíko wanting to lay in a supply of corn for the road. I spent a great deal of my leisure time, thus involuntarily obtained, in the company of the latter, who detailed to me the incidents of the struggle of his family with the Jihádi, and dilated on the importance of the town of Jéga, which is a market place of great consequence, especially for rough silk, with which it supplies the whole of Zánfara, and even the distant market of Alóri, or Ilóri. In fact, I am quite sure that the silk which has been obtained from the missionary station in Yóruba, is nothing but the selfsame article introduced into this country from Tripoli, and again exported from thence to Háusa. In my conversation with this man, he mentioned a circumstance which struck me as peculiar, that the Háusa people have no general name for the Songhay. Their only designation for them is Yammatáwa, meaning the western people, a term which is only used in opposition to Gabbestáwa, the “eastern people,” without any regard to nationality.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, August 9th.]

On leaving the village of Gárbo, we were induced to follow the traces of our Háusa companion, and to ascend directly the steep rocky passage which we had turned on our former journey; but we found that this time also the proverb was confirmed, that “the more haste the less speed,” for the passage proved so difficult that all the luggage fell from the backs of the camels, and caused us a great deal of delay. However, as soon as we reached the flat level of the forest, we proceeded onward without interruption till we had passed our former place of encampment. Finding no water here we pushed on, but, unfortunately, on account of part of our caravan having gone on in advance, we were prevented from encamping before the storm, which had gathered over our heads during the afternoon, broke forth, when the whole ground was in a moment so deeply covered with water that it was impossible to encamp. Thus, although drenched to the skin, we were obliged to keep on, in the most uncomfortable manner, till we found a little higher ground, where the branches of a sylvan encampment supplied us with the means of protecting our luggage against the extreme humidity of the ground. It is such encampments as these which are the cause of so much unhealthiness to travellers, and I did not feel at all comfortable until, with great difficulty, I had lighted a fire inside my wet tent, the rain continuing outside with increased violence. But the weather affected my people, who were less protected than myself, in such a manner, that they were shivering with wet and cold in the morning, and we did not get off until a late hour.

Having met some energetic and warlike-looking horsemen from Fógha, and passing several small ponds, we descended a little, and then proceeding over the hilly ground, which was more scantily timbered, we gradually approached the remarkable valley of Fógha. As I had decided upon visiting the town of Kallíyul, I was obliged to change here my direction to the south-west, keeping along the side of the valley. The narrow footpath was now overgrown with rank grass, and the numerous salt- manufacturing hamlets were destitute of life and animation, and overgrown with vegetation. We were also glad, for the sake of the famished inhabitants of this district, to see the fields waving with tolerably rich crops, and a few cattle grazing about. Some animation was caused by an encampment of native traders which we passed, consisting of light sheds built of reed.

Proceeding thus onwards we reached the town of Kallíyul, and were here received outside the gate by two horsemen, when I was without delay quartered in a large and clean hut built of clay, and about thirty feet in diameter. I had scarcely made myself comfortable, when Señína, and the most respectable of the inhabitants, came to pay their compliments to me in the most cheerful manner, saluting me as an old acquaintance and as an enterprising and successful traveller; while I, in my turn, complimented them on account of their having retrieved some of their losses by capturing a fine herd of cattle from the enemy. I was glad to see that they were not in such a famished condition as when I was here a year previously, and I gratefully acknowledged the moderate proof of hospitality which they were able to bestow upon me, consisting of a little túwo, a large quantity of milk, and a few kóla nuts. I rewarded their kindness as well as I was able under my present reduced circumstances.

It was here that I learnt with certainty the death of my friend the vizier of Bórnu; for although the governor of Say, when we read to him the general letter of recommendation which the Sheikh el Bakáy had written for me, had remarked that ʿOmár was no longer ruler of Bórnu, and had thrown out some hints respecting the death of the vizier, those indications were too vague to be relied on; but now circumstances were mentioned in such a positive manner that I could no longer entertain a doubt as to the truth of the report, and it was with some anxiety that I thought of Mr. Vogel and his companions, and my own affairs in the country of Bórnu.

Towards evening I wandered about a little, and found the town only scantily inhabited, although, as I have said before, the hamlets for manufacturing salt are almost deserted at this time of year, as no salt can be obtained as long as the bottom of the valley is covered with water. The situation of the place is of considerable strength, being defended not only by the wall on the east side, but also by a swamp on the west side, at least during part of the year; and it is this circumstance which renders it more intelligible how the inhabitants have been able to defend themselves against the repeated attacks of the revolted Déndi.

The greatest object of interest for me, and which would alone have rewarded a visit to the place, was a specimen of an oil-palm, Elais Guineensis, quite isolated, but, together with some palm bushes of the same species, serving to prove that this palm can thrive, even in the interior, in localities where the soil is impregnated with salt, as is here the case; although in general it is assumed, and seems to be proved by experience, that it cannot grow at any great distance from the ocean.

We had taken up our quarters inside the town, in consequence of the statement of ʿAbdú that we should be able to cross the valley at this spot, but to my great disappointment I learned that I should have to retrace my steps for some miles, as far as the spot where I had crossed the valley on my outward journey. In order therefore not to lose more time than was necessary, I left the place in the afternoon of the next day, intending to encamp beyond the valley at the entrance of the forest. After a good deal of opposition from my companions, I effected my purpose, being escorted out of the town by Señína, with two mounted archers, and followed by all the people who wanted to take the same road; for as soon as they saw me marching out with confidence, they all followed, one after the other, and encamped close round my tent, which I had pitched on the eminence above the valley near the dúm-palms, as if it were a talisman to protect them against any attack; and midnight had scarcely passed, when the drum of ʿAbdú was heard in the distance, indicating that he also did not tarry. But in consequence of the laziness of my people, whom the numbers of mosquitoes had scarcely allowed to close their eyes, he arrived before we had prepared our luggage, so that we did not get off until three o’clock in the morning; and, owing to a pack-ox belonging to ʿAbdú having fallen down in the narrow path in the forest, we lost another hour before we could fairly proceed.

Marching then onwards without further delay, we reached, half an hour before noon, the site of Débe, in the dense thicket of the forest, which was inundated with water, and made a short halt, without dismounting, in order to allow the Háusa people to drink their furá. There were about one hundred fatáki or native traders, most of them bearing their little merchandise on pack-oxen or asses, but some of them carrying it on their heads as dan-garúnfu. Having refreshed ourselves, we continued our march, but, frightened by a thunder-storm which was gathering over our heads, encamped near a shallow pond of water. However, there was but little rain, and we had a tolerably quiet evening. Here also we suffered greatly from the mosquitoes, which, together with the extreme insecurity of the communication, are the great drawback to the full enjoyment of a journey through Kebbi.

[Sidenote: Sunday, August 13th.]

About two miles from our starting-point, having slightly ascended, we had again to descend the steep rocky passage, the rising ground before us, with its dense timber, appearing like a chain of mountains. Having then ascended again, we reached the tebki, or pond, which I have mentioned on my outward journey, and being thirsty, we all went to drink, but found the water so abominable, that all my companions from Timbúktu were attacked with serious illness, especially Sídi Áhmed, who was seized suddenly with such a severe attack of fever that he declared the water to have been poisoned. But although it is not totally impossible that the enemy might have poisoned the pond—from which they knew that all the passers-by supplied themselves with water—with some herb or other, I think that its unwholesome character was caused in the same manner as the water of the brook near Úro Béleng, which had made one of my companions and myself ill on a former occasion.

Having again descended a rocky passage, we passed the site of a former encampment of Sultan Bello, which he used as his head-quarters when he destroyed the towns of Débe and Kúka. The sight of this place, together with the remembrance of the ruinous warfare which had proceeded from thence, gave my companions an opportunity of expatiating on the great strength of Kebbi in former times, when the whole of Gúrma, with all the Songhay places as far as Téra, were subject to them; but I never heard that the dominion of this country, or of any province of Háusa, had ever extended as far as Timbúktu. Proceeding then cheerfully on, we reached the first monkey-bread trees at the border of the forest, and were greatly delighted at the sight of the fine herds of cattle belonging to the inhabitants of Tilli, with the rich crops, part of which was already cut in order to satisfy the most urgent wants of the population. The whole district, together with its fine timber, which had now put forth its utmost exuberance of foliage, left a very pleasing impression.

Thus we reached the town of Tilli, but the western gate being very narrow, we had to turn round half the circumference of the wall in order to reach the eastern entrance; but having at length penetrated into the interior, we were lodged close to the western gate, where we had arrived an hour previously. I had thus the advantage of getting a good insight into the relations of the population of this place, and found the town to be much better off and more densely inhabited than Zogírma. But while the governor of the latter town ranks like a petty sultan, and has some cavalry under his command, that of Tilli is a mere mayor, without rank or authority. The present governor, whose name is Búba-Sadíki, enjoyed still less authority from personal reasons, as he was prostrated with the same illness which had lamed the governor of Say. This “señi,” or rheumatism, as I have stated on former occasions, is a kind of disease of which every African traveller who exposes himself a great deal during the rainy season, particularly along swampy regions and in leaky boats, is very susceptible. I suffered dreadfully from it after my return to Bórnu.

While the télamíd of the Sheikh went in person to the governor in order to alleviate, if possible, his enfeebled state by means of their prayers and blessing, I made him a small present, and he sent me some rice in acknowledgment. The little market was tolerably well supplied, and I was very glad to find here, besides sorghum, the large wholesome onions of Gando, and some dodówa, sour milk also being in considerable abundance; and it was interesting to observe how much more cheerful all the inhabitants were under the present circumstances, than they had been the previous year. I should have liked very much to have paid my compliments to my friend of Zogírma, in order to see how he was going on after being relieved from a great part of the anxiety which appeared to oppress him the year before; but fearing the delay, I resolved to make direct from here to Birni-n-Kebbi.

[Sidenote: Monday, August 14th.]

We had heard already on our journey that we had arrived at the very latest time in order to cross, with any degree of safety, the swampy fáddama of the gúlbi-n-Sókoto, which a little later in the season is extremely difficult to pass. At all events it was very fortunate that no rain had fallen for the last few days, or we should have experienced considerable difficulty in crossing this swampy ground: even as it was, we had to traverse three sheets of water, the first of which was about three feet deep and of considerable breadth, the second forming the real bed of the river, running with a south-westerly bend towards the Kwára, although not so wide as the former, and the third forming a stagnant creek. Having passed some ricefields, we at length, after a march of a little more than three miles, emerged from the swampy bottom of the valley, and ascended rising ground covered with the fine crops belonging to the inhabitants of Diggi, and soon after left the town itself on our right, which from our former journey had remained in our remembrance, as we had here been met by the chivalrous sons of the governor of Zogírma. Here dukhn and durra were grown promiscuously in the same field, affording a proof that this ground is well adapted for both kinds of cultivation.

Having here fallen into our former road, I hastened on in advance along the well-known path towards Birni-n-Kebbi, which however now exhibited a different character, on account of the whole country being covered with tall crops; and turning round the walls of Kóla, we reached the gate of Birni-n-Kebbi. The aspect of this town had likewise undergone an entire change, but not to its advantage; the town, which of itself is narrow, being still more hemmed in by the crops. For the moment, the place had certainly a rather desolate appearance, the greater part of the inhabitants being engaged in an expedition led on by ʿAbd el Káderi, or as he is commonly called, ʿAbd el Káderi-ay, a younger brother of Khalílu. As I rode up to the house of the mágaji or governor, Mohammed Lowel, he was just sitting in his parlour with a few of his people, when he, or rather his attendants, having recognized me as his old acquaintance ʿAbd el Kerím, came out to salute me in a very cheerful manner. However, the expedition being expected to return the same evening, there was no room for us inside the town, and we were obliged to seek shelter outside, descending the steep and rugged slope to the border of the fáddama, where we obtained, with difficulty, quarters for myself, in an isolated farm. The hut was extremely small, and full of ants; but the door was provided with a peculiar kind of curtain, made of the leaves of the deléb-palm, which, while admitting access, entirely excluded the mosquitoes, which infested this place in enormous quantities. We were well treated by the owner, or maigída, of the farm, in conformance with the orders which he received from the mágaji, to whom I sent a small present, reminding him of the larger gift which I had given him the preceding year. His hospitality was the more acceptable, as the market was very badly supplied, neither millet nor rice being procurable; sour milk also was extremely dear, as on account of the crops, and the quantity of water covering the valley, the cattle had been all sent off to a great distance, into the neighbourhood of Gando.

Late in the evening the expedition returned, bringing about one hundred head of cattle and thirty slaves, whom they had captured from the enemy. But although the commander of the expedition was to return to Gando himself, I did not like to wait for him, and started early the next morning along our old path, which was only distinguished at present by the quantity of water with which it was covered, especially near the village Háusáwa, where the whole shallow bed of the valley formed one sheet of water three feet deep. A good deal of cultivation of rice was at present to be seen. Thus we reached Gúlumbé, where, this time, in consequence of the quantity of rain that had fallen, inundating the ground outside close up to the wall, I took up my quarters inside the town, and obtained tolerably good lodgings, the courtyard being surrounded by a most exuberant growth of vegetation, and the finest timber; but the mayor did not treat us quite so well as I expected, although I made him a present of a black shawl. The market here also being badly provided, I had great difficulty in obtaining a sufficient supply of corn for my horse.

We had scarcely left the narrow lanes of the town with its extraordinary exuberance of vegetation, when the rain set in, so that we were wet both from above and below, the path either leading through tall crops, or through pools of stagnant water. The path further on, according to the information which we collected from people whom we met on the road, being entirely inundated, when we reached that western branch of the fáddama near the village of Badda-badda, we followed a more southerly direction to the large open village Kóchi, where we intended passing the night. But it was with the utmost difficulty that we obtained lodgings, nor did we experience the least sign of hospitality, and while an immense quantity of rain fell outside, I was greatly tormented by the number of mosquitoes, which were insufficiently excluded from my hut by a stiff piece of leather hung before the door.

[Sidenote: Thursday, August 17th.]

As soon as the weather allowed us we left this inhospitable village, and soon afterwards entered forest, to which succeeded fine crops of corn. Four miles beyond Kóchi, we had to cross a large fáddama full of water, and intersected in the middle by a running stream, bordered by great numbers of water lilies, and giving us altogether a fair idea of the difficulties attending travelling through this country at the present season of the year. A month later it would be entirely impassable for a European traveller encumbered with any amount of luggage. But the road was tolerably well frequented, and we were met by a long train of broad- shouldered square built Núpe females, each with a load of from six to eight enormous calabashes on her head, journeying to the Friday market of Jéga.

This is the important place, which, under the command of ʿAbd e’ Salám, had made a long and successful resistance against the author of the reformatory movement of the Fúlbe, and which, on account of its mercantile importance, had attracted attention in Europe a good many years ago; and although it has declined at present from its former importance, it was still of sufficient consequence to make me desirous of visiting it; but the great quantity of rain which fell at this time by rendering the communication very difficult for loaded camels, prevented me from executing my design. A little further on I met with one of those incidents which, although simple and unimportant in their character, yet often serve to cheer the solitary traveller in foreign countries, more than the most brilliant reception. After having crossed a valley, we were ascending the last rocky passage before coming to Gando, when we met here a troop of men, and as soon as one of them saw me in the distance, he broke out into the cheering exclamation, “Márhaba, márhaba, ʿAbd el Kerím.” It was highly gratifying to me when returning after a long absence to a place where I had resided for so short a time, to be recognized immediately and saluted in so hearty a manner, although my stay in Gando was connected with many a melancholy reminiscence.

Here, on the top of the rocky eminence, we obtained a view of the valley of Gando, and, descending, soon reached the gate of the town, and straightway rode to the house of the monkish prince, where we were soon surrounded by a number of people, who congratulated me on my fortunate return. After a while, there appeared also my tormentor, El Bakáy, which name now appeared to me as a mere satire, associating as it did this vilest of Arabs with that noble man who had showed me so much disinterested friendship. But when he again commenced his old tactics, I immediately made a serious protest, declaring at once, that the only thing which it was in my power to give him this time, was a black tobe and a red cap; and this I assured him he should not get until the very moment when I was about to leave the place. The dismal clay-house, where I had been lodged during my former stay in the place, had since fallen in; and other quarters were assigned to me, consisting of a courtyard and two huts.

[Footnote 46: The original residence of ʿAbd e’ Salám had been Kóri, from whence he had carried on war with ʿOthman for five years.]

CHAP. LXXXII.

SECOND STAY IN GANDO, SÓKOTO, AND WURNÓ.

The quarters which had been allotted to me this time, were at least a little more airy than my former ones. My former guide, Dahóme, here paid me a visit. Upon asking him whether he had faithfully delivered to the mʿallem ʿAbd el Káder, in Sókoto, the parcel I had given him on his taking leave of me at Dóre, he put on a rather sullen look, took from his cap a small leather case, opened it, and drawing forth a dirty piece of paper, to my utmost surprise and disappointment, exclaimed, “Here is your letter!” I then learned, that in consequence of the violent rains through which he had had to make his way, and the many rivers and swamps which he had to cross, the whole envelope of the letter, containing the lines addressed to my friend in Sókoto, had been destroyed, so that the latter, receiving only the English letter, and not knowing what to do with this hieroglyphic, at length returned it to the bearer, who had since used it as a charm. Besides this mishap, which had delayed this letter so long, instead of its being forwarded directly to Europe in order to inform my friends of my proceedings, there was another disagreeable piece of information for me here; viz., that nearly the half of the huts composing the town had been consumed during my absence by a conflagration, and that all my books which I had left behind had in consequence been destroyed.

I stayed four days in Gando, endeavouring once more, in vain, to obtain an audience from the prince, and to persuade my companions, the télamíd, to give up their hopes of a handsome present from this niggardly man, who sent me, if I may attribute the proceedings of his slaves to himself, in return for all the presents I had made him, a common black tobe and 3000 shells, although my supplies were totally exhausted, and the two camels which I still possessed were more or less worn out, so that I stood greatly in need of generous aid. But not wanting anything besides from the governor, I was thankful that I had passed unmolested through his extensive dominions, on my outward as well as on my home journey, and even protected, as far as his feeble power was able to grant protection.

The town was no better off now than it had been a year before, the expedition against Argúngo, of which I had heard on the road as being undertaken by ʿAlíyu, having turned out a mere sham, and in consequence the pagan rebels being stronger and more daring than ever; and, just as was the case during my former residence, there was an expedition on a small scale every Tuesday and Thursday, made by the old people and the women, in order to collect wood with some degree of security. On the whole, there was nothing of interest to record, except the remarkable quantity of rain which fell during my stay, and which was said to have fallen before my arrival, confirming the impression already previously received in my mind, that Gando was one of those places most abundantly supplied with the watery element; and it was highly interesting for me to learn from the people on this occasion, that, as a general rule, they reckon upon ninety-two rainy days annually. I am quite sure that the average rain-fall in this place is certainly not less than sixty inches; but it is probably more than eighty, and perhaps even one hundred.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, August 23rd.]

I was heartily glad when I left this town, where I had experienced a great deal of trouble, although I could not but acknowledge, that if I had not succeeded in some degree in securing the friendship of the ruling men in this place, it would not have fallen to my lot to have reached even the banks of the Niger.

It is to be hoped that Khalílu will soon be succeeded by a more energetic prince, who will restore peace and security to the extensive dominions of which Gando is the capital. Under such circumstances, this town, on account of its mercantile connections with the provinces along the Niger, could hardly fail to become a place of the greatest interest.

A great many sweet potatoes, or dánkali, were cultivated in the district through which I passed, although the aspect of the crops was far from being satisfactory. The monkey-bread, or baobab trees, on the other hand, were now in the full exuberance of their foliage. Leaving our former route a little to the north, we took the southerly road to the town of Dógo-n-dáji, which was enlivened by passengers proceeding to visit the market held at that place, which proved to be much more important than that of Gando, cattle, sheep, salt, and beads constituting the chief articles for sale. But, just at the moment we arrived, a thunder-storm broke out, which dispersed all the customers in the market, and left us in a difficult position to supply our wants. The town itself, although the clay wall was in a state of great decay, presented an interesting aspect, being full of gonda, or Erica Papaya, and date trees, which were just loaded with fruit, a rather rare sight in Negroland.

[Sidenote: Thursday, August 24th.]

When we left the town of Dógo-n-dáji, we crossed the market-place, which is adorned by five monkey-bread trees, but being empty at the time, it looked somewhat desolate.

At the present day, at the outskirts of almost all the larger towns of Negroland, Fúlbe families are established, who rear cattle for the express purpose of supplying milk for the daily wants of the inhabitants; and these people gladly provide travellers with that most desirable article when they are well paid for it; but having degenerated to mere tradesmen, they, of course, possess little hospitable feeling. Leaving, then the town of Sála at about two miles distance to the north, and passing through a populous district, rich in pastures and the cultivation of rice and sórghum, and exhibiting near the town of Kusáda a good many dúm- and deléb-palms, we ascended at length along a difficult passage, rendered almost impassable by the quantity of rain which had fallen, until we reached Shagári, the place where we had slept on our outward journey, and where a market was just being held. We were fortunate enough, this time, to obtain tolerable quarters, and to be well treated.

The whole country which we traversed on our next day’s march, was clothed with the richest vegetation, the crops being almost ripe, but cattle and horses being very scanty. Thus, after a good march, we reached the town of Bodínga, having lost another of our camels on the road, which, in crossing one of the swampy valleys in which this part of Negroland abounds, had fallen backwards with his load, and died on the spot. But the quantity of water that we had to sustain from above and below, was not only destructive to animals, but likewise to men, and I myself felt most cheerless, weak, and without appetite, bearing already within me the germs of dysentery, which soon were to develop themselves, and undermine my health in the most serious way. My companions were not much better off, and of the messengers of the Sheikh El Bakáy, none but Sídi Áhmed was able to keep up with us.

A large and well-frequented market was held before the western gate of the town of Bodínga, exhibiting a great number of horned cattle and asses; but the more desolate appeared the extensive and at present useless area of the town itself, which was now covered with rank grass, or laid out in kitchen gardens, while only a few straggling cottages were to be seen. Although I again preferred taking up my quarters outside in my old place, I entered the town expressly in order to pay my compliments to the governor, and was here most hospitably treated by my friend, who manifested the greatest delight at my safe return to his province from my dangerous journey westward. But I had great need of the assistance of a powerful friend, as my camels were not able to carry my little luggage any further; and the good-tempered son of my old friend Módibo ʿAlí, not only assisted me with camels, but also himself mounted the following morning on a stately charger, and escorted me several miles on my road to Sókoto.

I reached the old residence of the Áhel Fódíye in a very exhausted state, having been delayed on the road by falling in, in the midst of a swampy fáddama, with a numerous caravan of asses, which entirely obstructed the winding watery path. But notwithstanding my sickness, I took extreme delight in the varied aspect which the country at present exhibited, in comparison with the almost total nakedness which it had displayed, when I set out from Sókoto sixteen months previously; and I felt extremely grateful when I again found myself in this town, having accomplished more than I ever thought I should be able to do.

The whole town, suburbs, wall, cottages, and gardens, were now enveloped in one dense mass of vegetation, through which it was difficult to make one’s way, and recognise places well known from former visits. Scarcely had I been quartered in a comfortable hut, when my friend ʿAbd el Káder Dan-Taffa, sent his compliments to me, and shortly after made his appearance himself, expressing the liveliest satisfaction at seeing me again, and sincere compassion for the reduced state of my health. Not less encouraging was the reception I met with from my old friend Módibo ʿAlí. When I made him a small present, regretting that after the long time I had been without supplies I was not able to make him a better one, he was so kind as to express his astonishment that I had anything left at all. He also begged me not to go on at once to Wurnó, but to stay a day in this place, and to write to ʿAlíyu, informing him of my safe return, and how much I stood in need of his aid. I made use of this opportunity of at once requesting the emír El Múmenín to forward me with as little delay as possible on my journey, hinting, at the same time, that I should feel very grateful to him, if he would assist me with horses and camels. I intimated also, that as I myself, on account of the reduced state of my health, was anxious to reach home by the most direct road, I had to beg for permission for a countryman of mine, who had just come to Bórnu, meaning Mr. Vogel, to visit the south-eastern provinces of his kingdom. The following evening, a messenger arrived from the vizier ʿAbdú, son of Gedádo, informing me that we were to start on the succeeding day, and that we should find camels on the other side of the river. The river, as I had already learned, was very much swollen, and extremely difficult to cross.

While my Mohammedan and black friends thus behaved towards me in the kindest and most hospitable manner, the way in which I felt myself treated by my friends in Europe, was not at all encouraging, and little adapted to raise my failing spirits; for it was only by accident, through a liberated female slave from Stambúl, who called upon me soon after my arrival, that I obtained information of the important fact, that five Christians had arrived in Kúkawa, with a train of forty camels. While I endeavoured to identify the individuals of whom this person gave me some account from a very selfish point of view, with the particulars contained in Lord Russell’s despatch, which I had received near Timbúktu, about the members of an auxiliary expedition to be sent out to join me, I was greatly astonished that, for myself, there was not a single line from those gentlemen, although I felt still authorized to consider myself the director of the African Expedition; and I could only conclude from all this, that something was wrong. I had not yet any direct intimation of the rumour which was spread abroad with regard to my death: and taking everything into consideration, it was certainly a want of circumspection in Mr. Vogel, notwithstanding the rumours which were current in Bórnu, not to endeavour to place himself in communication with me in the event of my being still alive.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, August 29th.]

Having arranged my luggage at an early hour, and waited some time for my people to get ready, I set out. Winding down the slope of the hill on which Sókoto is situated, and which was now covered with crops, we reached the border of the stream, which, from having been an insignificant brook at the time of my first arrival in the place, was now changed into a powerful torrent, about 200 yards broad, and rushing along with the most impetuous violence, undermining the banks, and leaving in its course small patches of grassy islands, which made the passage extremely difficult. The view opposite will give an idea of the scenery. Having at length crossed this stream in frail barks, dragging our horses and beasts of burden alongside of them, we had to wait a good while on the opposite shore till the camels sent from Sókoto came to meet us, when we proceeded about eight miles, and having been caught in a heavy shower, took up our quarters in Áchi-da-láfia, a large straggling farming village. Here I felt extremely weak and exhausted, my case assuming more distinctly the character of dysentery.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, August 30th.]

After an agreeable march of about six miles, it being a fine clear day, we reached Wurnó, the residence of ʿAlíyu. Here we were lodged in our old quarters, where, however, the frail building of the hut had disappeared, and nothing remained but the clay house. I was received by the court of the emír El Múmenín also with great kindness, and, curious as it may appear to Europeans, my hostile relation with the Fúlbe of Hamda-Alláhi seemed only to have increased my esteem in the eyes of these people. ʿAlíyu had even heard of the ungenerous conduct of the Sheikh el Bakáy’s younger brother towards me; and while he greatly praised the straightforward behaviour of the former he did not fail to reproach Sídi Álawáte with meanness. He treated me very hospitably, although I was not able to enjoy greatly the more luxurious kind of food which was here offered to me, for luxurious it seemed after my poor diet in the famished and distracted region near the Niger. It was only by the strictest diet, especially by keeping to sour milk, together with repose, that I succeeded, after a great deal of suffering, in keeping under the disease. However, my recovery in the beginning was only temporary, and on the 13th of the following month dysentery broke out with considerable violence, and caused me a total loss of strength; but, after a severe crisis, it was overcome by the use of Dover’s powders, although even then a simple diet was the most effectual remedy, my food consisting of nothing but pounded rice, mixed with curdled milk, and the seeds of the Mimosa Nilotica. At length, on the 22nd of September, I was again enabled to move about a little on horseback, and from that day forward, my health continued to improve.

Finding that my segífa excluded every draught of air, I built myself a shed of matting in front of the door of the clay house, where I spent my time pleasantly enough, until the great humidity of the ground, in consequence of the rains that began to fall, drove me back into my hall. The whole breadth of the valley to the very foot of the rocky border was now under water to a considerable depth, and covered with water-lilies. Scarcely a small footpath remained. A great deal of rice was to be seen in the low ground, while the cultivation on the higher ground consisted entirely of sorghum. But the richness of the country around was scarcely of any avail, for greater insecurity prevailed than on my former visit, even at the distance of a few miles from the capital. A small host of the enemy had succeeded in carrying into slavery from a distance of less than ten miles from the capital, a considerable number of people and cattle.[47] Another predatory expedition of the Búgaje from Alakkos, a few days later, drove away two herds of cattle from the very village of Giyáwa; and on the 2nd of October a small foray of Tagáma plundered the village of Saláme together with a neighbouring hamlet, carrying away a good number of people.

A great dearth of provisions prevailed, not only with regard to meat, but even corn, which was the more surprising to us, as we had been accustomed in Timbúktu to very low prices, although provisions are there brought from so great a distance. We were able in that town to buy a sheep for 500 or 600 kurdí, but we could here find none under 3000, the best fetching as much as 5000; and as for corn, the suníye, which we bought in Timbúktu for 3000 to 4000, we should have been glad to buy here with 10,000, if such large quantities had been brought into the market at all. It was, besides, extremely difficult for me to find shells. I was thus obliged to sell five dollars for 11,000 shells, while in Timbúktu they would have fetched 15,000. I also sold the corals which I had left at a low price, in order to be enabled to keep up my establishment. Cotton strips, which are liked better in the country places, were still dearer in proportion than shells.

The horse which I rode myself being incapable of any further exertion, and my camels having either died or become totally exhausted, I was thus thrown, much against my inclination, upon the generosity of the prince, and in order to stimulate his good will, besides the present which I offered to him at my first interview, I gave him in a second audience ten dollars, silver being always an article much esteemed by these people. I had made it a point of reserving the last bernús I possessed for the governor of Kanó, who, in the present state of anarchy into which Bórnu seemed to be plunged, might be a person of great importance to me. But, nevertheless, I could not induce this not very high-spirited and noble-minded prince to make a sacrifice of a handsome horse, and he gave me an animal which, although it did not prove to be a bad travelling horse, was of small size, had a very bad walk, was not able to gallop at all, and altogether, was more like an ass than a horse. Besides a horse, ʿAlíyu was kind enough to send me a large loaf of English sugar,—a rather uncommon article in this country. I felt very grateful for this present, as I was entirely destitute of sugar.

I had a good deal of trouble with my companions, who did not like to leave this place so soon as it was my intention to do. This extended not only to the messengers of the Sheikh, all of whom suffered a great deal from illness, but still more to my headman, ʿAlí el Ágeren, whom I would have sent away long before if I had been able to pay him off; for this man, who found it very convenient to trade at my expense, while he had nothing to do except to receive a good salary, entered into all sorts of intrigues to keep me in this place, just as he had done in Timbúktu.

Notwithstanding the reiterated delays, I succeeded in fixing my departure for the 7th October, and as I afterwards convinced myself from my own experience, the state of the roads which we had to cross would scarcely have allowed us to commence our journey before that time; but the rainy season was now almost over, and while the noxious insect called tumúnragaye, which towards the end of the rainy season infests the whole ground, increased in numbers, the quantity of rain decreased. Being now rather better and feeling stronger, I began again to move about a little on horseback, although the swampy character of the valley which surrounds Wurnó on almost every side, together with the rocky character of the remaining part of the district, prevented me from making long excursions.

During this my second stay in the capital of this extensive empire, I had again full opportunity of observing the extreme weakness and want of energy which prevails in its very centre; although I could not but acknowledge the feeling of justice which animates the ruler himself, notwithstanding his want of spirit. In proof of this I may relate that being informed one day that five young sons of his had committed acts of injustice in the market, he became greatly enraged, and immediately sent his two chief courtiers, ʿAbdu and the ghaladíma, with positive orders to seize and imprison the offenders; and when the young outlaws succeeded in escaping and hiding themselves for a day or two, he had the chief slave, who had been with them, executed. But the cowardice of his people, and their oppression of the weak and unprotected, became fully apparent. A most disgraceful affair happened at this time. A caravan of inoffensive traders who had encamped in Gáwasú, were surprised by them, and after considerable havoc had been made among them, were deprived of almost all their property. These people had been reported to be hostile pagans, or Ázena, from the district of Sáje in Góber, and dependent on the protection of the Kél-gerés and the Awelímmiden-wuén-Bodhál, and were represented as having been trading with the inhabitants of Tléta, which was hostile to the Féllani; but after this cruel act of injustice had been committed, it was ascertained that they were peaceable traders on their way to Kanó, and that among them there were even several inhabitants of Wurnó.

But it almost seemed as if the prospects of this part of Negroland were to darken more and more, for the rumours which I had heard on the Niger of the ancient feud between the Kél-owí and Kél-gerés having again broken out in a sanguinary struggle, were entirely confirmed here. The Kél-owí had undertaken this year an expedition on a large scale, consisting of 5000 men mounted on horses and camels, and, according to report, with as many as 1000 muskets, against the Kél-gerés and the Awelímmiden, and had penetrated almost as far as Sáje, which place they destroyed by fire. The Kél-gerés having taken part in the expedition of the Góberáwa against the empire of Sókoto, the relation of the Kél-owí with the latter had assumed a much more friendly character, and our old friend Ánnur had paid a visit to the town of Kátsena. My friend ʿAbd el Káder, the Sultan of Ágades, who, as I have mentioned on my outward journey, had been deposed, and had been succeeded by Hámed e’ Rufáy, had now turned merchant on a grand scale, endeavouring at the same time to attach the Fúlbe to his cause. His usual residence was now in Kátsena, but he had paid a visit the previous year, in company with the governor of that place, to the emír El Múmenín, taking him, besides a quantity of bernúses and other valuable articles, a present of thirteen horses of Tawárek breed, and receiving from the latter, besides a number of tobes, 3,000,000 shells, and 260 slaves. Having remained about two months in Wurnó, and having been treated altogether in the most distinguished manner, the ex-king of Ágades had been forwarded with a numerous escort; for, notwithstanding the extreme weakness of this empire, if viewed from a European point of view, it even now is not quite destitute of means. During my stay, the messengers arrived from Záriya, with a bi-monthly tribute of 300,000 shells, 85 slaves and 100 tobes.

Having at length overcome the laziness of my companions, I had the satisfaction of seeing my departure finally arranged for the 5th October. The ghaladíma, in whose company on my outward journey I had come from Kátsena, was again to be my fellow traveller on my return eastward. I therefore completed my preparations, and, on the 4th October, I had my final leave-taking, or, as the Háusa people say, the babankwána, when I took the opportunity of excusing myself to ʿAlíyu for having been this year a little troublesome, after the fashion of those Arab sherífs who used to visit him, stating at the same time, that if my means had not been almost exhausted, I should have preferred buying a horse for myself. Having made this prelude, I endeavoured to impress upon him the dangerous state of the road, when he made use of the expression common in Háusa, “Alla shibúdeta!” (“God may open it!”); but I protested against such an excess of reliance upon the Divine intervention, and exhorted him to employ his own strength and power for such a purpose, for without security of roads, I assured him there could be no intercourse nor traffic. He either was, or seemed to be, very desirous that the English should open trading relations with him; and I even touched on the circumstance, that in order to facilitate such an intercourse, it would be best to blow up certain rocks, which most obstructed the navigation between Yáuri and Búsa, but of such an undertaking I convinced myself that it was better not to say too much at once, as that ought to be an affair of time.

Altogether, ʿAlíyu had entered into the most cheerful conversation with me on all occasions, and had questioned me upon every subject without reserve. He also furnished me with four letters of recommendation, one to the governor of Kanó, one to that of Bauchi, one to that of Ádamáwa, and one in a more general sense, addressed to all the governors of the different provinces in his empire. Thus I took leave of him and his court, probably never to see that region again, and lamenting that this extensive empire, which is so advantageously situated for a steady intercourse with Europeans, was not in the hands of an energetic chieftain, who would be able to give stability to conquest, and to organise the government of these provinces, so richly endowed by nature, with a strong hand.

[Sidenote: Thursday, October 5th.]

It was about three o’clock in the afternoon when I took my final leave of Wurnó. I had twice resided in this capital for some length of time, experiencing, on the whole, much kindness. On my outward journey I had been furnished on my dangerous undertaking with a strong and powerful recommendation; and on my return, although I had come into hostile contact with another section of the same tribe to which the inhabitants of this country belong, I had been again received without the least suspicion, had been treated with great regard, notwithstanding the exhausted state of my finances, and allowed to pursue my home journey as soon as the season reopened the communication with the neighbouring province.

Following now quite a different and more southerly road from that which we had pursued on our outward journey, we encamped this day in Dan- Sháura[48], a walled town, strengthened by three moats, tolerably well inhabited, and adorned with fine groups of trees, among which some large gonda trees, or Erica Papaya, were distinguished. The town belongs to the district of Rába, which forms the title of its governor, who is called Serkí-n-Rába. He was a decent sort of man, and treated us hospitably, a dish of fish proving a great luxury to me in this inland region, and bearing testimony to the considerable size of a large pond which borders the town on the east side, being apparently in connection with the gulbi-n-Rába, or Bugga. The evening was clear, and I enjoyed for a long time the scenery of the place in the fine moonlight, but the governor would not honour me with his company, being greatly afraid of the bad influence of the moon, the effect of which he thought far more injurious than that of the sun.

[Sidenote: Friday, October 6th.]

After a night greatly disturbed first by mosquitoes, and then by a heavy gale, we pursued our journey, entering a fine open country, which was intersected further on by a broad fáddama, and beyond that, presented several ponds half-dried up. But, after a march of about ten miles, we had a larger valley full of water on our right; and three miles further on, had to cross it at a spot where the sheet of water was at present narrowed to about 100 yards in width and 3 feet in depth, and notwithstanding a considerable current afforded an easier passage than the other part of the rainy season bed, which at present exhibited swampy ground, partly overgrown with rank grass, but was very difficult to cross, and a few days previously had been totally impracticable for horses or camels.

Four miles and a half beyond this river, through a country adorned with fine trees, but without any traces of cultivation, we reached a large river about 250 yards broad, and more than 5 feet deep, running here in a north-easterly direction, and no doubt identical with the river which we had lately crossed. How it is that the river here contains so much more water than it does lower down, I cannot state with certainty; but my opinion is, that a great portion of it is withdrawn towards the north, where the forest seems gradually to slope down towards the desert region of the centre of Gúndumi, where, in a sort of mould, or hollow, a large lake-like pond is formed. It is rather unfortunate that I had not an opportunity of asking information on this subject from one of the followers of the ghaladíma, who, instead of crossing the first sheet of water, kept along its northern bank, and thus with a longer circuit, but without the necessity of embarking in a boat, reached the town of Gandi. Having then crossed another small fáddama in a wide open country, where sorghum and cotton were cultivated together in the same fields, we reached the town of Gandi. It is surrounded by a wall (in a state of decay), and by two moats, and is of considerable size, but half- deserted.

We traversed with some difficulty the entrance of the town, which was adorned on the outside with three very tall bombax, or silk-cotton trees, and was almost entirely obstructed by a wooden gate, and then made our way through the desolate area of the town, overgrown with tall herbage, dúm-palms, and kórna, until we reached the house of the mágaji, who is one of the five rulers of this vast and desolate place. But we had a great deal of trouble in procuring quarters in an empty courtyard, where we were glad to obtain some rest, as, owing to my long illness, and my entire want of any strengthening food, I felt extremely exhausted by our day’s march. I had, moreover, the dissatisfaction to find that one of my people, a liberated slave from Núpe, had remained behind and could not be found. As for myself, I was not able to stir much about to inquire after him, for I wanted rest the more, as we had a long day’s march before us[49], and had to rise at a very early hour.

It was three o’clock the following morning when we all assembled round the courtyard of the ghaladíma, but on account of the guide who had promised to conduct us through the wilderness not daring to trust himself with these people without receiving his reward beforehand, we did not get off till half-past five o’clock, after we were quite tired out and ill prepared for a long march. The forest was overgrown with rank grass, and in the beginning exhibited some large ponds. The dorówa formed the principal tree, only now and then a dúm-palm giving some variety to the vegetation. Through this dense forest we marched at such a rate, that it rather resembled a flight than anything else, rendering it impossible for me to lay down this road with the same degree of accuracy to which I had adhered with the greatest perseverance throughout the whole extent of my long wanderings. At length, after a march of more than twenty miles, we reached the beginning of the large pond Subúbu, which, however, at present was almost dried up, presenting nothing but small pools of water; but I was sadly disappointed in my hopes of obtaining here some rest, the locality being regarded as too insecure to make a long halt, although on account of this sheet of water we had evidently given to our course a direction greatly diverging from that of our main route, which was to the north-east. I felt so much exhausted, that I was obliged shortly after to remain secretly behind, protected only by my faithful servant El Gatróni, when I lay down flat on the ground for a few moments, and then, refreshed a little, hastily followed the troop. Thus we proceeded onward, and the day passed by without there appearing any vestige of a town. After many disappointments, dragging myself along in the most desperate state of exhaustion, about an hour after midnight we at length reached cultivated fields and encamped at some distance from the town of Danfáwa or Dan- Fáwa, on an open piece of ground. Not being able to wait till the tent was pitched, I fell fast asleep as soon as I dismounted. A very heavy dew fell during the night.

[Sidenote: Sunday, October 8th.]

Having obtained some water and a couple of fowls from some farming people in our neighbourhood, we succeeded in finding our camels (which on account of the exhausted condition of my people had wandered away), and set out a little after noon, passing close by the town, where a tolerable market was held, and where I provided myself with corn for the next few days. The town of Dan-Fáwa is tolerably populous, and there are even a good many huts outside the walls; but I was astonished at observing the filthy condition of the pond from which the inhabitants procure their supply of water. It could not fail to confirm my former conjecture, that most of the diseases of the inhabitants, especially the guinea-worm, are due to this dirt and filth, which they swallow at certain seasons of the year in this sort of water.

Having lost some time in the market, I overtook my people as they were winding along the steep bank of a considerable river, which, taking a northerly course, and evidently identical with the watercourse at Katúru, joins the great valley of Góber, a few miles to the north-west of Sansánne ʿAísa. At the place where we crossed, it was about 200 yards broad, but very shallow at the time, being only a foot deep and full of sandbanks; but I was not a little astonished to find that it contained a very great quantity of fish, numbers of people being employed in catching them by the beating of drums. Although the bank was so steep, there were evident signs that a short time before, it had been covered by the water, and part of the crops, even beyond its border, had been damaged by the inundation.

The country appeared to be well inhabited. A little further on we passed on our left a populous walled town called Dóle, and an apparently larger place became visible on the other side, the pasture-grounds being covered with extremely fine cattle. After we had crossed the river, I found that the highest stalks of Indian corn, which was fast ripening, measured not less than twenty-eight feet. Besides sorghum, sweet potatoes, or dánkali, were also cultivated here to a great extent. Having then crossed a stony tract, we again reached the town of Moríki, where the river approaches to within a few hundred yards.[50] On the high ground close to the border of the town, a market-place spreads out. Having observed the narrowness of the lanes, I preferred encamping a considerable distance beyond the town near a hamlet, surrounded by a thick fence, and inhabited by Fúlbe, of the tribes of the Jakabáwa and Kukodáwa. The neighbourhood of Moríki was said to be infested by the inhabitants of the town of Tléta, who were reported to make nightly forays, carrying away horses and cattle; but notwithstanding this information, we had an undisturbed night’s rest, although I thought it prudent to fire several shots.

[Sidenote: Monday, October 9th.]

Having dried our tent a little from the extremely heavy dew which had fallen during the night, we set out to join our companions. Traversing the same rocky district through which we had passed on our outward journey, we reached again the well-known place of Dúchi, and entering with difficulty the obstructed lanes of the village where we lost another of our camels, pitched our tent on a small open square opposite the house where the ghaladíma had taken up his quarters. Some tamarind trees on the slope of a rocky eminence, which rose close behind our resting place, afforded us a tolerable shelter during the hot hours of the day.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, October 10th.]

Our day’s march carried us as far as Búnka, with the loss of another of our camels, and we encamped this time inside the town in a tolerably spacious courtyard, the surrounding fields being now covered with tall crops, and not affording sufficient ground for encamping. Altogether the country presented a very different aspect from what it had done on our outward journey, and the watercourse near Zýrmi with its steep banks, offered a difficult passage, although the water was not more than a foot and a half deep. My camels being either knocked up or having entirely succumbed, I endeavoured in vain to procure a good ox of burden, the principal reason of my difficulty being, that I was not provided with shells, and, in consequence, I had some trouble the next day in reaching the town of Kámmané, where the ghaladíma took up his quarters. Already on the road, I had observed a good deal of indigo and cotton cultivated between the sorghum. Even here close to the town, we found the grounds divided between the cultivation of rice and indigo; and I soon learnt that the whole industry of the inhabitants consisted in weaving and dyeing. They have very little millet of any kind, so that their food is chiefly limited to ground-nuts or kolche. They have no cattle, but their cotton is celebrated on account of its strength, and the shirts which they dye here, are distinguished for the peculiar lustre which they know how to give to them. Although the inhabitants have only about twenty horses, they are able, according to their own statement, to bring into the field not less than 5000 archers. However exaggerated this statement may be, they had not found it very difficult, the preceding year, to drive back the expedition of the Góberáwa; for they keep their wall in excellent repair, and even at present only one gate was passable at all for laden animals, the others being only accessible by a kadárku or narrow drawbridge. The whole interior of the town presented an interesting aspect, tall dúm-palms shooting up between the several granite mounds which rise to a considerable elevation[51], while the courtyards exhibited a great deal of industry, the people being busy with their labours till late in the evening. The proprietor of the courtyard where I had taken up my quarters treated me with the favourite drink of furá soon after my arrival, and with túwo in the evening. I was also fortunate enough to obtain some milk from the villagers outside.

[Sidenote: Thursday, October 12th.]

It was rather late when we left this place for another long forced march, a dense fog enveloping the country; but it was still much too early for my noble friend the ghaladíma, who was busy installing a new governor, for which he received a present of a horse and large heaps of shells, so that it was almost ten o’clock before we had fairly entered upon our march. This district being very dangerous, we proceeded on with great haste, and I really conjectured that it was in truth the unsafe state of the road which had caused the delay of our departure, the people being anxious to disappoint the enemy, who, if they had heard the news of our arrival in this place, would of course expect that we should set out in the morning. Having made our way for about six hours through a dense forest, we left a granite mound and the ivy-mantled wall of Rúbo on one side, with a fine rími and abundance of fresh grass of tall growth. The forest then became clearer, and we reached a considerable tebki, or pond, which being regarded as the end of the dangerous tract, my companions came to congratulate me upon having now at length escaped the dangers of the road. However, our day’s march was still tolerably long, extending altogether to twelve hours; and being rather unwell that day, I had considerable difficulty in keeping up with the troop. In consequence of our late departure, we had to traverse the most difficult part of our route, that nearest to Úmmadaw, which is intersected by granite blocks, in the dark, so that our march was frequently obstructed, especially at a spot where two mighty granitic masses left only a narrow passage. A good deal of indigo is here cultivated between the millet; and the town itself is very spacious; but arriving at so late an hour, we had great difficulty in obtaining quarters, all the open grounds being covered with corn, and we were glad to find at length an open square where we might pitch our tent.

[Sidenote: Friday, October 13th.]

Here my route separated from that of the ghaladíma, as I was going to Kanó, while he, again, along this roundabout way (the direct route having been almost entirely broken up by the enemy), directed his steps towards Kátsena. After satisfying our appetites, for which we had not been able to provide the preceding night, I took a small present with me, and went to bid farewell to the ghaladíma and those of his suite who had been particularly kind to me; and I hope that they will long remember me. Having fulfilled this duty, I proceeded with my people, in order to continue my march alone. The country was tolerably open, broken only here and there by granite rocks, while the vegetation was enlivened now and then by dúm-palms. Cultivation was limited to certain tracts; but, notwithstanding the unsafe state of the country, the pasture- grounds were not quite destitute of cattle; and being at length able to travel according to my own inclinations, I enjoyed the scenery extremely. It had been my original intention to pursue the road to Korófi; but, by mistake, after leaving Wurmó, I had got into the track leading to Birchi. I reached this latter town after a march of altogether about twelve miles, having crossed my former route from Kúrayé to Kúrrefi. I found that almost all the male inhabitants of the place had joined the expedition against Káura; and I pitched my tent in front of the house of the ghaladíma, but was invited by the people who were left as guardians to pass the hot hours of the day in the cool entrance-hall of his courtyard. Although the place does not exhibit any great signs of wealth or comfort, I was glad to find that the corn here was much cheaper than in Úmmadaw. I was also enabled to buy some butter. Moreover, the absence of the governor exercised no unfavourable influence upon my treatment, which was very kind: an old mʿallem especially evinced a friendly disposition towards me.

[Sidenote: Saturday, October 14th.]

After a march of about fourteen miles, passing by the town of Rawëó, where a small market was held, and traversing the suburb of Sakássar, with its beautiful “ngáboré,” or fig-trees, we reached the town of Máje, which had been represented to us as rich in cattle and milk, but which I found half deserted; the town having greatly declined about twelve years previously, when the whole country, including the places Takabáwa, Matázu, Korófi, and Kúrkojángo, revolted, and gave free passage to an army of the Góberáwa. I was glad to buy a good sheep for 1500 shells. The governor of the place was absent in Kátsena, where he generally resides. We had pitched our tent in the shade of a beautiful fig-tree, and passed the afternoon very pleasantly; but were greatly troubled during the night by the numbers of mosquitoes.

Rising at an early hour, and traversing a fine country, I reached the large town of Kusáda in the afternoon, and encamped here, outside, not far from the market-place, which at the time of my arrival was quite untenanted; but the following night it became well frequented by a number of travellers who sought quarters there. On this march I observed a specimen of industry on a small scale, exercised by the inhabitants of the town of Máje, who buy sour milk in a place called Kánkia, at a considerable distance, and supply the town of Korófi with it. Numerous villages were lying on either side of our path, cultivated and uncultivated ground succeeding alternately; Indian millet being here the chief product besides cotton. The pasture-grounds also were enlivened by a good number of horses.

Pursuing from this point my old road through the fine province of Kanó, rich in all kinds of produce, and well stocked with cattle, and encamping the next night close beyond the town of Bíchi, I reached the town of Kanó in the afternoon of the 17th, having sent one of my people in advance.

[Footnote 47: This expedition was led by the Dan-ghaladíma-Góber, and fell upon the border district of Jýju, situated in the rocky district between Giyáwa and Wurnó, and comprising many small hamlets, or gídaje, as the Gída-n-Ríya, Gída-n-Alisówa, Gída-n-Gorgábe, Gída-n-Kóla-Dalládi, Gída-n-Maidanga, Gída-n-Yakúbu, Gída-n-Ruggun-dáji, Rúmde-n-ghaladíma, and Alkáli-Asben. A brother of his ransacked Wáno, separated only by a narrow valley from Saláme.]

[Footnote 48: I here give a list of the towns and villages lying along this river on the side of Dan-Sháura:—Dogáwa, Tungámmaza, Tunsumáwa, Tófa, Gída-n-dan-Damáwa, Gída-n-Laudam, Basánsan, Gída-n-Somába, G. Mágaji, Gelgil, G. Atafíru, Jan Tumbagébe, Birni-n-Dangéda, Gajére, Dorówa-n-birni, Dakuráwa, Kundus, Rára. Between the town of Rába, from whence this river has received the name Gulbi-n-Rába, and Sókoto, there are the places: Kurfi, Torónka, Káwasa, Durbel, Dúnguji, Tunga-dúwatsu, Kabánga (Ungwa Ibrahíma) Garí-n-serkí-n-Ázena.]

[Footnote 49: Close to Gandi is the small hill Dan-Fáwa, where the ancient town was situated; and, at a distance of about ten miles, is the well-known town of Bakúra, after which the river is called Gulbi-n- Bakúra.]

[Footnote 50: The watercourse is here still of considerable size, and comes a good many miles from the south-east, from a place called Gózaki, skirting the towns of Kaúri-n-Namóda, and Góga.]

[Footnote 51: Kámmané is one of those places which are distinguished on account of their granite mounds, and which extend from Áyo and Mágaré to Chábané, Ájjia, and the fifteen rocky mounds of Kotórkoshé, where the Sultan of Sókoto had the preceding year directed his expedition.]

CHAP. LXXXIII.

SECOND RESIDENCE IN KANÓ, UNDER UNFAVOURABLE CIRCUMSTANCES. — MARCH TO KÚKAWA.

On my arrival in Kanó, I found everything prepared, and took up my quarters in a house provided for me; but I was greatly disappointed in finding neither letters nor supplies; being entirely destitute of means, and having several debts to pay in this place,—amongst others, the money due to my servants, to whom I had paid nothing during the whole journey from Kúkawa to Timbúktu, and back. I was scarcely able to explain how all this could have happened; having fully relied upon finding here everything I wanted, together with satisfactory information with regard to the proceedings of Mr. Vogel and his companions, whose arrival in Kúkawa I had as yet only accidentally learned from a liberated slave in Sókoto. But fortunately, without relying much upon Sídi Ráshid, the man whom I knew to be at the time the agent of Her Majesty’s Vice Consul in Múrzuk, I had given my confidence at once to Sídi ʿAlí, the merchant whom I have mentioned already in the account of my former stay in this place, as a tolerably trustworthy person, and whose good-will I endeavoured at once to secure, by sacrificing to him almost everything I had left of value, including a small six-barrelled pistol. In return, he promised to supply my wants till I should be put in possession of the money and merchandise which I had deposited in Zínder.

The first thing, therefore, which I had to do the next morning, after having paid my compliments to the ghaladíma and the governor, and made to each of them a handsome present, such as my means would allow, was to send my servant Mohammed el Gatróni, upon whom I could fully rely, to Zínder; giving him full instructions, and promising him a handsome present, if he should succeed in bringing away all my effects, both those which had been deposited on a former occasion, and the merchandise which had been forwarded on my account at a later period; and a smaller one in case he should only find the latter portion: for, after all, I was by no means sure that the box of ironware and the four hundred dollars had remained safe during the severe civil struggles which had agitated Bórnu during my absence. Meanwhile, till the return of this messenger, I endeavoured to pass my time as usefully as possible, by completing a survey of the town which I had begun during my former residence, but was far from having finished. At the same time the state of my health, on account of the close quarters in which I was here lodged, after having roved about in the open air for so long a time, required uninterrupted exercise. Owing to the change in my mode of living, severe fits of fever attacked me repeatedly.

Kanó will always remain one of the most unfavourable localities for Europeans in this region; and it was well that Mr. Vogel, for the first year after his arrival in Negroland, purposely avoided this spot. Even my animals did not escape the malignant effect of the climate. Three of my horses were seized, one after the other, with a contagious disease, commencing with a swelling of the thighs, and from thence spreading to the breast and the head, and generally proving fatal in six or eight days. In this way I lost two out of my three horses, including my old companion, who had carried me through so many dangerous campaigns, and who had shared all my fatigues and sufferings for nearly three years; but the small and ugly, but strong horse which the Sultan of Sókoto had made me a present of, escaped with its life. This disease which attacked my horses, of course, interfered greatly with my excursions, and took away almost all the pleasure which they would otherwise have afforded, as I was reduced to the necessity of making use of very indifferent animals. Nevertheless, I enjoyed greatly the open country which extended outside the gates of this picturesque but extremely dirty town, dotted with large villages at no great distance; and I followed up especially, with great interest, the easterly of the three roads which diverge from the Kófa-n-kúra, and which leads to the small rivulet known as the Kógi- n-Kanó. Occasionally also I went to visit some cattle-pens, in order to get a little fresh milk, which I was unable to procure in the town; for inside the place I succeeded only after great exertion in obtaining a little goat’s milk. The pools produced by the rainy season had now dried up almost everywhere, and that peculiar kind of sorghum called “maiwa” had been harvested; and a few days afterwards, while making another excursion, to the south, I met the servants of the governor gathering the corn for their master.

Besides my own private concerns, and the anxiety produced by the urgency of my debts and the uncertainty with regard to the property left by me in Zínder, there were two objects which attracted my whole attention and caused me a good deal of perplexity and hesitation. The first of these was the expedition sent by the English government up the river Bénuwé, of which I had not the slightest idea at the time when it was carried out, for the despatches which I had received in Timbúktu, after so much delay, did not contain a word about such a proceeding; and the letters which were forwarded afterwards to my address, informing me that such an expedition was to be undertaken, remained in Kúkawa, and I did not get them until my arrival in that place at the end of December. Thus it was not until the 29th October that, just in the same manner as I had heard accidentally in Sókoto of the arrival of Mr. Vogel in Kúkawa, I was informed here, by the report of the natives, of such an expedition having taken place. I at first thought that it was undertaken by Captain M‘Leod, of whose proposal to ascend the Niger I had accidentally gleaned some information through a number of the Galignani, and it was not until the 13th November that I succeeded in meeting the person who had seen the expedition with his own eyes. This man informed me that the expedition consisted of one large boat, he did not know whether of iron or of wood, and two smaller ones, containing altogether seven gentlemen and seventy slaves, he of course taking the Kroomen for slaves. Moreover, I learned from him that the members of this expedition had not gone as far as Yóla, the capital of Ádamáwa, as the governor of Hamárruwa had warned them not to go up to that place with their steamer, on account of the narrow passage between the mountains. He also informed me, that they had commenced their home journey earlier than had been expected, and that he himself, having proceeded to Yákoba in order to procure more ivory for them, had found them gone on his return.

The other circumstance which greatly occupied my mind at this time, was the state of affairs in Kúkawa. For in the beginning, on the first news of the revolution in Bórnu, and of the Sheikh ʿOmár being dethroned and his vizier slain, I had given up my project of returning by Bórnu, intending to try again the difficult road by Áír. At a later season, however, when I heard on the road that ʿOmár was again installed, I cherished the hope that it might be possible to take the safer route by the Tebu country, especially as I received the news of a most sanguinary struggle having taken place between the Kél-owí and the Kél-gerés. In this struggle a great many of the noblest men of the former were said to have fallen, together with several hundred of the common people on both sides. I was sorry to hear that in this struggle my best friends had succumbed.

Meanwhile the news from Kúkawa remained very unsatisfactory, and false rumours were continually brought from thence. Thus it was reported on the 1st November that the Sugúrti had vanquished ʿOmár, who had made his escape accompanied only by a couple of horsemen; and it was not until the 9th that we received trustworthy news that he was holding his position steadily against the intrigues of the party of his brother, whom he kept in prison. It was with great satisfaction, that I saw messengers from ʿOmár arrive, in the course of a few days, in order to present his compliments to the governor of this place. I at once had them called to my house, and made them a few presents, in order to express my satisfaction at their master having recovered his kingdom, and still holding his position; for it was a most important point with me to see my road to Bórnu clear, and to meet there with Mr. Vogel and his party, in order to give him my advice and assistance with respect to the countries which it was most desirable that he should explore. But in the situation in which I was thus placed, it proved most difficult to obtain the means of reaching Kúkawa, as I had no money at my disposal. For, to my great disappointment, the servant whom I had sent to Zínder on the 18th, in order to bring from thence the property which I had deposited there, as well as the merchandise which had arrived afterwards, returned on the 4th November empty-handed, bringing nothing but a few letters. It was now that I heard that the news of my death had been everywhere believed, and that a servant of Mr. Vogel’s, together with a slave of ʿAbd e’ Rahmán’s, had arrived in Zínder from Kúkawa, and had taken away all the merchandise that had reached that place on my account, the box with the 400 dollars and the cutlery having been stolen long before, immediately after the assassination of the sheríf.

Thus, then, I was left destitute also from this side, and I felt the want of supplies the more, as my headman, ʿAlí el Ágeren, supported by the wording of the contract which I had entered into with him, had claimed here peremptorily the payment of the rest of his salary, which amounted to 111 dollars, and I had been obliged to request Sídi ʿAlí to pay him this sum on my account. This man had cost me very dear, and if I had possessed sufficient means I should have discharged him in Timbúktu, as he there threw off all allegiance and obedience to me as soon as he became aware of the dangers which surrounded me. He was likewise of very little service to me on my return journey; but of course he was now anxious to excuse himself for his conduct on the road, and even laid claim to the present which I had promised him in the event of his conduct proving quite to my satisfaction. This, however, I refused with good reason; and I was glad to find that my other servants, whose salaries amounted altogether to nearly 200 dollars, were willing to wait for their payment until we reached Kúkawa.

However, the parcel which my servant brought me from Zínder was not quite devoid of subjects of gratification, as, besides a few letters from Europe, including a map of South Africa by Mr. Cooley, it contained two beautifully written Arabic letters, one addressed to ʿAlíyu, the emír of Sókoto, and the other, a general letter of recommendation addressed by Her Majesty’s consul in Tripoli to the chiefs of the Fúlbe. These letters I had expressly written for, and if I had received them two years earlier, they would have been of great service to me. As it was, I sent the letter destined for ʿAlíyu to the governor, who was so much pleased with it that he forwarded it by a special messenger, accompanied by a letter from myself, wherein I expressed my regret that I had not been able to present this letter to him on my personal visit, while at the same time I excused myself for not being able at the time to send him a small present, not having found here any supplies, and being entirely destitute of means. Having heard a report, which afterwards proved to be false, that the governor of Hamárruwa had formed the intention of attacking the people in the English steamer with a large force, I took the opportunity of protesting, in this letter, against such proceedings, giving the chief a plain statement of the peaceable intentions of the expedition.

The parcel which my servant had brought me from Zínder seemed also to hold out the prospect of material aid; for the letter from Mr. Dickson, dated the latter part of 1853, wherein he at the same time informed me, to my great disappointment, that he was about to leave his post for the Crimea, contained two letters of recommendation to a couple of Ghadámsi merchants, of the names of Háj Áhmed ben Slímán and Mohammed ben Músa, who, as he informed me, had property of his own in their hands, in order to assist me in case I should be in want of money. But when I sent these letters to their destination they were very coldly received, and it was intimated to me that I could not be accommodated. The disappointment which the awkwardness of my pecuniary circumstances caused me, was soothed in some degree by the offer which the Fezzáni merchant Khweldi, whose kindness to me I have mentioned on a previous occasion, made me at the same time, of lending me 200 dollars in cash. In the afternoon of the 14th, a servant of his arrived with the money, which, however, did not suffice for my actual wants, as I had to return to Sídi ʿAlí the 111 dollars which he had paid to my servant ʿAlí el ʿAgeren. After having made a suitable present to the messenger, I had therefore only a very small sum remaining; and the disappointment which I had experienced with regard to my luggage, made me reluctant to forego the project which I had formed of taking home with me specimens of the manufactures of this place. I had also to buy two horses and a couple of camels, together with sundry other articles, and I was therefore obliged to procure further means, however difficult it might be. I had even a great deal of trouble with Sídi ʿAlí, who put off his promise to accommodate me from day to day.

At length, having, on the 10th of November, written an energetic letter to this merchant, it was agreed that the affair between myself and the Ghadámsi merchants, who refused to lend me money, although they had English property in their hands, should be referred to the ghaladíma, who granted me a public interview for the purpose. In this audience, in which a great number of other people were present, the merchants founded their refusal to comply with my request on the old date of the letter in which they were ordered to attend to my wishes; and it was not until the ghaladíma had ordered them to bring into his presence all that they possessed of the British agent’s property that they agreed the following day to lend me a sum of money, at the usual rate of one hundred per cent. Being obliged to agree to this condition, as it had never been my intention to oblige them by force to grant me a loan without allowing them their usual profit, I stipulated to receive from them 500,000 shells, equal in this place to 200 dollars, on the condition that 400 should be repaid in Tripoli, at four months’ date. This loan, which would not have been necessary at all if I had found my supplies, enabled me, on the other hand, to send off my despatches with the greatest ease and security, as it was, of course, the interest of these merchants to have these letters forwarded to Tripoli by the safest and shortest route. A courier was therefore despatched immediately, who being an experienced and well-known person, would be able to make his way through the country of Áír, which in its temporarily disturbed state was closed to any one else. The only thing which caused me some displeasure in this transaction, was the circumstance that these merchants from Ghadámes had the insolence, although half of the money with which they trade is Christian money, to call the Christians, in the presence of the ghaladíma, by the offensive name of “Káfaráwa,” (“the infidels,”) and I made a serious protest against such a term being employed in official transactions.

The difficulty which I had in supplying my wants, and purchasing the articles that in my opinion were necessary for my outfit, was the greater, as everything was very dear at the time, the merchants being of opinion, on account of the turbulent state of the road, that no caravan from the north would arrive that year. Camels especially were exceedingly dear, seven fine animals which Khweldi had sent from Zínder, being sold for 60,000 shells each, a very high price for a camel. I deemed myself therefore very fortunate in being able to purchase a she- camel of inferior quality for 45,000. I also was so lucky as to buy an excellent mare for 70,000 shells, or less than thirty dollars. Having thus at length provided for all my wants, I got everything ready for starting on the 21st; and heartily glad I was when I was fairly embarked on this the last stage of my journeying in Negroland, with the prospect before me, that, in six months or so, I might again breathe the invigorating air of the north.

I therefore cheerfully took leave of my friends from the far-west, who were to follow as soon as possible to Kúkawa, for although they were not likely to be of any further assistance to me, they wanted to lay the chief of that country under some contribution for their own benefit and that of their master. I then pursued my journey with great cheerfulness; and although the general character of the country was not new to me, yet the route which I was obliged to take, had not been travelled by me before. The road, although perhaps less populous, seemed to possess the advantage of richer vegetation, and deléb-palms especially formed the ornament of many a hamlet, or of the open scenery. Fine cattle also were to be seen in considerable numbers, and altogether it was a pleasant ride. Thus, after a march of about eleven miles, we reached the town of Wáse, or Wása, and here took up our quarters. But, as usual, we found the gate so narrow, that we were obliged to take most of the luggage off the camels, and this was the reason that we always preferred encamping outside; although here it was deemed too unsafe. Even inside the place, the people were very much afraid of thieves. The town was tolerably populous, and the courtyards were fenced with hedges of living trees, almost in the same way as Úba, and the one where we lodged was well shaded. Although, in the present disturbed state of the country, and with the prospect of another expedition of Bokhári, the inhabitants did not feel much at their ease, we were nevertheless tolerably well treated.

[Sidenote: November 24th.]

We had the same difficulty in getting out of the town, as we had in entering it, so that I was quite sick of these places, and resolved if possible never to enter one again. The sorghum, or Indian corn, had just been cut, but was lying on the ground unthrashed, or rather unbeaten. The dorówa-tree, or Bassia Parkii, which seemed to be the prevailing tree in this district, appeared in great numbers a little further on, and even date-trees were seen, close to a hamlet. Having then passed through a more open country, the scenery became exceedingly fine, and continued so as far as the town of Sabó-n-garí, which we passed at some distance on our left. The market-place, enlivened by two beautiful baúre-trees, remained close at the side of our track. It was here that the governor of Kanó intended to collect his troops in order to oppose Bokhári; but it was not very likely, taking into account his own want of energy, and the cowardly disposition of his host, that he would offer serious resistance to that energetic and enterprising chief, with his warlike bands, elated by victory and pillage.

Twelve miles beyond Sabó-n-garí, through a less favoured district, we reached the town of Yerímarí, surrounded with a keffi, while on its outer side a market was just being held. But there being here no food for the camels, we proceeded on, through a district covered with underwood, until we reached, about two miles beyond, a village called “Gída-n-Alla,” (“the house of God,”) which, besides being surrounded with a keffi, was so completely hidden behind a dense covert of trees, which form a natural defence, that we could scarcely discover it. But inside this covert there was a fine open field, whereon we pitched our tent, and were soon visited by the mayor and the chief inhabitants, who behaved in a very friendly manner towards us, and provided us with everything we wanted, the place being rich in small millet and Indian corn. The village was however very badly supplied with water, the well being at a great distance. The camping-ground was extremely pleasant, the open green being varied by dense groups of trees, and the vegetation being moreover enlivened by a good many deléb-palms.

The road which we pursued the following day was more beset by thorny bushes, but here also deléb-palms were numerous, and dorówa and tamarind trees contributed to enliven more favoured spots. Thus we reached the place where this northern route is joined by a more southerly one which passes by Gezáwa, but not the same track which I had pursued on my former journey. Here we continued on, at an accelerated pace, as all the people whom we met were flying in haste before Bokhári. Thus we passed Dúkawa, a considerable village, fortified with a keffi, and surrounded with numbers of monkey-bread trees, which at present were destitute of foliage, although the fruit was just ripening. As the heat became rather oppressive, especially as we were not provided with water, all the ponds being now dried up, I rode in advance to Hóbiri, fortified, like most of the hamlets hereabouts, with a stockade, and adorned outside by large tamarind and monkey-bread trees, and, while watering the horses, refreshed myself with a little sour-milk. Passing then through a dense forest, I reached the well in front of the town of Gérki. My people had already arrived, but had not yet succeeded in obtaining the smallest quantity of water, the well, although not very deep, being rather poor, considering the number of people which it had to supply. I had, in consequence, to pay 300 shells for supplying the wants of myself and my animals. Not feeling any greater inclination this time to encamp inside Gérki than I had done on my former journey, I chose my own camping- ground on the north side of the town. It was a pleasant spot; but, unfortunately, it was too near a large monkey-bread tree, which in the course of the night afforded to an audacious thief an excellent cover, under which to proceed twice to a very clever performance of his art. I would strongly advise any future traveller in these districts, the inhabitants of which are very expert thieves, to take care not to pitch his tent too near a large tree. As it was, to my great disgust, the fellow succeeded in carrying away, first the tobe, and then the trowsers, belonging to one of my servants; but I strongly suspected one of the inhabitants of Hóbiri, from whom I had bought, the previous evening, an ox of burden for 9000 shells, to be the culprit. Gérki is famous on account of the many thefts which are committed in its neighbourhood.

Although I had not paid my respects to the governor of the town, he accompanied me the next morning with ten horsemen, four of whom were his own sons. He himself was quite a stately person and well mounted. Having then taken leave of him at the frontier of the territory of Kanó and Bórnu, I reached the town of Birmenáwa, the small frontier town of Bórnu, which I have mentioned on my former journey, but which, at present, had assumed more remarkable political importance, as it had not made its subjection to Shéri, the present ruler of Gúmmel, but still adhered to his opponent and rival, the governor of Týmbi. On this account, the inhabitants of this town endeavoured to cut off the peaceable intercourse between Gúmmel and Kanó, and I thought it necessary, in order to prevent any unpleasantness, to pay my respects to the petty chief, and to procure his good will by a small present, while my camels pursued the direct track. Thus we reached Gúmmel, and encamped outside at some distance from the wall to the north-east.

I had left this town on my former journey in the enjoyment of a considerable degree of wealth and comfort, under the rule of the old Dan Tanóma. But civil war, which cuts short the finest germs of human prosperity, had been raging here; the person appointed by Bórnu as the successor of the former governor having been vanquished by his rival Shéri, who, having taken possession of the town after much serious fighting, had again been driven out by the governor of Zínder sent against him by the Sheikh of Bórnu. Having taken refuge in the territory of Kanó, and collected there fresh strength, the rebellious governor had reconquered his seat, where he was now tacitly acknowledged by his liege lord, in the weak state to which the kingdom of Bórnu had been reduced by the civil war. The town was almost desolate, while the palace had been ransacked, pillaged, and destroyed by fire, and the new governor himself, who, after a long struggle with his rival and near kinsman, had at length succeeded in taking possession of this government, was residing amidst the towering ruins of the royal residence, blackened by fire, and exhibiting altogether the saddest spectacle. It was with a melancholy feeling, that I remembered the beautiful tamarind-tree, which spread its shade over the whole courtyard of the palace, where, on my former visit, I had witnessed the pompous ceremonies of this petty court. All now presented an appearance of poverty and misery. The governor himself, a man of about thirty-five years of age, and with features void of expression, was dressed in a very shabby manner, wearing nothing but a black tobe, and having his head uncovered. There was, however, another man sitting by his side, whose exterior was more imposing; but I soon recognised him as my old friend Mohammed e’ Sfáksi, who had accompanied us on our outset from Múrzuk, and who, from being an agent of Mr. Gagliuffi, had become, through successful trading and speculation, a wealthy merchant himself. He was now speculating upon the successful issue of an expedition of his protector against the town of Birmenáwa, the inhabitants of which braved the authority of the governor. But fortunately the debt which Mr. Richardson had contracted with him had at length been paid, and he expressed nothing but kindly feelings towards me, and congratulated me, as it appeared sincerely, upon my safe return from my dangerous undertaking, praising my courage and perseverance in the highest terms before his friend the governor. Presenting to the latter a small gift, consisting of a red cap and turban, together with a flask of rose-oil, I requested him to furnish me with a guide, in order to accompany me to the governor of Máshena. He consented to do so, although, perhaps, he never intended to perform his promise; and I myself at the time had no idea of the difficulties with which such a proceeding would be accompanied, as the road to Malám, where the governor at Máshena at present resided, led close to the territory of Týmbi, the residence of Shéri’s rival.

Having returned to my tent outside the town, I was visited by several of my former acquaintances, and among others by Mohammed Abëakúta, the remarkable freed slave from Yóruba, whom I have mentioned on a former occasion. But the most interesting visit was that of E’ Sfáksi in the evening, who brought me a quantity of sweetmeats from his well supplied household, and spent several hours with me, giving me the first authentic account of the state of affairs in Bórnu, as well as of the English expedition which had arrived there. As a reward for his friendly feeling and for his information, I presented him with a young heifer, which the governor of the town had sent me as a present.

My camels having proved insufficient for the journey before them, I was looking out for fresh ones, but in the present reduced state of the place was not able to procure any, a circumstance which caused me afterwards a great deal of delay on my journey.

[Sidenote: Monday, Nov. 27th.]

After losing much time awaiting the coming of the guide who had been promised me, I started after my people whom I had allowed to go on with the camels. The road in consequence of the civil war which had raged between Shéri and his rival, had become quite desolate. The inhabitants had deserted their native villages, leaving the crops standing ripe in the fields, and forsaking everything which had been dear to them. Not a single human being was to be seen for a stretch of more than twenty-five miles, when at length we fell in with a party of native travellers, or fatáki, who were going to Kanó. We soon after reached the small town of Fányakangwa, surrounded by a wall and stockade, and encamped on the stubble-fields which were covered with small dúm-bush, not far from a deep well, and we were glad to find that we had at length reached a land of tolerable plenty, the corn being just half the price it was in Gúmmel. There were also a great number of cattle, and I had a plentiful supply of milk; but water was at the present season very scanty, and I could scarcely imagine what the people would do in the dry season.

A march of a little more than two miles brought us to Malám, consisting of two villages, the eastern one being encompassed by a clay wall which was being repaired, while the western one, where the present governor resided, was just being surrounded with a stockade. Between the two villages lies the market-place where a market is held every Sunday and Thursday. The present governor of Máshena, whose father I had visited on my former journey, is a young and inexperienced man, who may have some difficulty in protecting his province in the turbulent state into which the empire of Bórnu has been plunged, in consequence of the civil war raging between the Sheikh ʿOmár and his brother ʿAbd e’ Rahmán.

While staying here during the hot hours, I was visited by several Arab traders, one of whom informed me that Mr. Vogel had gone on a journey to Mándará, but without taking with him any of his companions. I left in the afternoon as early as the heat of the midday hours allowed me, in order to continue my journey towards the town of Máshena. We encamped this evening at the well belonging to a village called Allamáibe, a name not unfrequent in this region, and we were most hospitably treated by the inhabitants who, enjoying themselves with music and dancing, celebrated also my own arrival with a song; they moreover sent me several dishes of native food.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, Nov. 29th.]

The whole tract which we traversed in pursuing our road from hence to the town of Máshena, was chiefly adorned with dúm-palms, which did not cease till just before we reached Demánmária; and the country was tolerably well inhabited and exhibited some signs of industry. Cattle also were not wanting; and I observed that at a village which we passed near the town of Mairimája, although it was then nearly half-past nine o’clock in the morning, the cattle had not yet been driven out. Here the water did not seem to be at any great depth below the surface, some of the wells measuring not more than four fathoms. Having then traversed a district where the tamarind tree was the greatest ornament, we reached the town of Máshena, with its rocky eminences scattered about the landscape, and encamped a few hundred yards to the west of the town. I have made a few observations with regard to this place on my former journey, but neither then nor at this time, did I visit the interior. I will only add, that it was in this place that the sheríf Mohammed el Fási, the agent of the vizier of Bórnu in Zínder, with whom my supplies had been deposited, was slain in the revolution of the preceding year. Not long after I had pitched my tent, I received a visit from an Arab, of the name of ʿAbd Alláhi Shén, who had assisted the usurper ʿAbd e’ Rahmán as a sort of broker, and who, in consequence, had been exiled by the Sheikh ʿOmár as soon as the latter again recovered possession of the supreme power, and it was in order to beg me to solicit his pardon at the hands of the Sheikh, that he addressed himself to me. He also informed me, that the road was at present by no means safe, being greatly infested by the people of Bédde, who were taking advantage of the weak state to which the Bórnu kingdom had been reduced by the civil war. Corn was here exceedingly dear, or rather not to be had at all, and beans was the only thing I could procure.

From hence I followed at first my former track, till I came to the place where on that occasion I had lost my road; and here I took a more southerly direction, and passed the hot hours in Lamíso, a middle-sized town surrounded with a low rampart of earth. Outside the town there was a market-place, where a market was just being held, tolerably well supplied, not only with corn, but also with cotton; besides these, beans, dodówa, the dúm-fruit, dried fish, and indigo, formed the chief articles for sale; and I bought here a pack-ox for 10,000 shells. As soon as the bargain was concluded, I again pursued my journey, and, after some time, fell into my old track. Having thus reached the town of Allamáy, I pitched my tent inside the thick fence of thorny bushes. I had passed this town also on my former journey, and had then been greatly pleased at the sight of a numerous herd of cattle; but in the present ruinous condition of the country, not a single cow was to be seen; the whole place being entirely desolate. Even the water, which it was very difficult to obtain, was of bad quality.

The next morning I reached Búndi, after a short march, proceeding in advance of my camels, in order to pay my compliments to the governor, and to obtain from him an escort through the unsafe district which intervened between this town and Zurríkulo. After a little tergiversation, my old friend, the ghaladíma ʿOmár, acceded to my request, giving me a guide who, he assured me, would procure an escort for me in the village of Sheshéri, where a squadron of horse was stationed for the greater security of the road. I had experienced the inhospitable disposition of this officer during my former stay here, and felt therefore little inclination to be his guest a second time; but if I had had any foreboding that Mr. Vogel was so near at hand, I would gladly have made some stay.

Having rejoined my camels, I set out, without delay, through the forest, taking the lead with my head servant, but I had scarcely proceeded three miles when I saw advancing towards me a person of strange aspect,—a young man of very fair complexion, dressed in a tobe like the one I wore myself, and with a white turban wound thickly round his head. He was accompanied by two or three blacks, likewise on horseback. One of them I recognised as my servant Mʿadi, whom, on setting out from Kúkawa, I had left in the house as a guardian. As soon as he saw me, he told the young man that I was ʿAbd el Kerím, in consequence of which, Mr. Vogel (for he it was) rushed forward, and, taken by surprise as both of us were, we gave each other a hearty reception from horseback. As for myself, I had not had the remotest idea of meeting him; and he, on his part, had only a short time before received the intelligence of my safe return from the west. Not having the slightest notion that I was alive, and judging from its Arab address that the letter which I forwarded to him from Kanó was a letter from some Arab, he had put it by without opening it, waiting till he might meet with a person who should be able to read it.

In the midst of this inhospitable forest, we dismounted and sat down together on the ground; and my camels having arrived, I took out my small bag of provisions, and had some coffee boiled, so that we were quite at home. It was with great amazement that I heard from my young friend that there were no supplies in Kúkawa; that what he had brought with him had been spent; and that the usurper ʿAbd e’ Rahmán had treated him very badly, having even taken possession of the property which I had left in Zínder. He moreover informed me that he himself was on his way to that place, in order to see whether fresh supplies had not arrived, being also anxious to determine the position of that important town by an astronomical observation, and thus to give a firmer basis to my own labours. But the news of the want of pecuniary supplies did not cause me so much surprise as the report which I received from him, that he did not possess a single bottle of wine. For having now been for more than three years without a drop of any stimulant except coffee, and having suffered severely from frequent attacks of fever and dysentery, I had an insuperable longing for the juice of the grape, of which former experience had taught me the benefit. On my former journey through Asia Minor, I had contracted a serious fever in the swamps of Lycia, and quickly regained my strength by the use of good French wine. I could not help reproaching my friend for having too hastily believed the news of my death before he had made all possible inquiries; but as he was a new comer into this country, and did not possess a knowledge of the language, I could easily perceive that he had no means of ascertaining the truth or falsehood of those reports.

I also learned from him, that there were despatches for me in Kúkawa, informing me of the expedition sent up the river Tsadda, or Bénuwé. With regard to his own proceedings, he informed me that his sole object in going to Mándará had been to join that expedition, having been misled by the opinion of my friends in Europe, who thought that I had gone to Ádamáwa by way of Mándará, and that when once in Morá he had become aware of the mistake he had committed when too late, and had endeavoured in vain to retrieve his error by going from that place to Ujé, from whence the overthrow of the usurper ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, and the return of his brother ʿOmár to power, had obliged him to return to Kúkawa.

While we were thus conversing together, the other members of the caravan in whose company Mr. Vogel was travelling arrived, and expressed their astonishment and surprise at my sitting quietly here in the midst of the forest, talking with my friend, while the whole district was infested by hostile men. But these Arab traders are great cowards; and I learned from my countryman that he had found a great number of these merchants assembled in Borzári, and afraid of a few robbers who infested the road beyond that place, and it was only after he had joined them with his companions that they had decided upon advancing.

After about two hours’ conversation, we had to separate; and while Mr. Vogel pursued his journey to Zínder (whence he promised to join me before the end of the month), I hastened to overtake my people, whom I had ordered to wait for me in Kálemrí. I have described this place on my outward journey as a cheerful and industrious village, consisting of two straggling groups, full of cattle and animation; but here also desolation had supplanted human happiness, and a few scattered huts were all that was at present to be seen. Having rested here for about an hour with my people, who had unloaded the animals at a short distance from the well, I started again at three o’clock in the afternoon, and reached Shechéri, where I was to receive my escort, this being the reason why I had been obliged to deviate from the main direction of my route. This time we encamped on the open square inside the village, where we were exposed to the dust and dirt raised by a numerous herd of cattle on their return from their pasture-grounds. This was a sign of some sort of comfort remaining; but we were disturbed in the night by a shrill cry raised, on account of a report having been just received that a party of native traders, or “fatáki,” had been attacked by the Tawárek. In the morning, I had great difficulty in obtaining two horsemen for an escort; but I at last set out, taking a southerly detour instead of the direct road to Zurríkulo, and thus reached the town of Kerí-zemán, situated two miles and a half south-west from the former, along a track ornamented by a dense grove of dúm-palms.

Thus I reached Zurríkulo for the third time during my travels in Negroland; but found it in a much worse condition than when I had last visited it in 1851, and the wall, although it had been considerably contracted, was still much too large for the small number of inhabitants. The governor, Kashélla Sʿaíd, who paid me a visit in the evening, when I had pitched my tent at a short distance from his residence, requested urgently that, on my arrival in the capital, I would employ my influence with the Sheikh in order to induce him either to send him sufficient succours, or to recall him from this dangerous post; otherwise he should take to flight with the rest of the inhabitants. There were here some Arabs who were scarcely able to conceive how I could pursue these difficult roads quite by myself, without a caravan.

In order to lessen the danger, I decided upon travelling at night, and set out about two o’clock in the morning, entering now a region consisting of high sandy downs and irregular hollows, full of dúm-palms, and occasionally forming the receptacle for a swampy sheet of water, where the wild hog appears to find a pleasant home. After a march of nearly ten hours, which greatly fatigued my camels, on account of the numerous sandy slopes which we had to go up and down, we reached the little hamlet of Gabóre, situated in a rather commanding position, bordered towards the north by a hollow dell. Here I encamped on the eastern side of the village, and was glad to treat my people with a sheep and a few fowls. From the presence of these articles of luxury I was led to conclude that the inhabitants were tolerably well off, but I was not a little astonished to learn that they pay a certain tribute to the Tawárek, in order not to be exposed to their predatory incursions.

[Sidenote: Monday, December 4th.]

It was not yet four o’clock when I was again en route. I thought it remarkable that all this time, although not the slightest quantity of rain or moisture was perceptible, the sky was always overcast before sunrise. I was greatly pleased when I crossed my former path at the neat little village Káluwa, the aspect of which had made so deep an impression upon me at that time. Further on I kept to the south of my former track, through a well cultivated district, where all the fields were provided with those raised platforms intended as stations for the guardians, of which I have spoken on a former occasion. Thus passing a good many villages, we made halt during the hot hours at the village Dimísugá, under a group of fine hájilíj, the inhabitants treating us hospitably. Having then continued our journey at an early hour in the afternoon, we soon passed a village which in other respects presents nothing interesting, but the name of which is remarkable as showing the facetious turn of the natives. It is called “Búne kayérde Sʿaíd,” meaning, “Sleep, and rely upon Sʿaíd,” the hamlet having evidently received this name from the native traders proceeding from the side of Bórnu, who thus evinced the confidence they felt in entering the province of the energetic Kashélla Sʿaíd, who they knew kept it in such a state of security that there was no danger from robbers.

While we were proceeding through an uninhabited hilly tract, my guide suddenly left me, so that being misled by the greater width of the path, and passing the village of Jíngerí, animated at the time by a group of lively females in their best attire, and just performing a marriage ceremony, I reached the town of Wádi, which I had touched at on my outward journey, and at length by a roundabout way arrived at Borzári, where I expected my people to join me. But I looked for them in vain the whole night. They had taken the road to Grémarí. The governor treated me hospitably; but his object was to induce me to speak a word in favour of him to his liege lord.

In consequence of my people having taken another road, I lost the whole forenoon of the following day, and encamped about seven miles beyond Grémarí, near the village called Mariámari. During this encampment I again heard the unusual sound of a lion during the night. But it must be taken into consideration that a branch of the komádugu passes at a short distance to the south of this place, and I therefore think myself right in supposing that, in Bórnu at least, lions are scarcely ever met with, except in this entangled net of water-courses which I had here reached. The next day I marched for a considerable time along the northern border of this channel, girt by fine tamarind and fig trees, and occasionally by a group of dúm-palms, till having passed the village of Dámen, and traversed a wide swampy tract, we crossed the first branch, which formed a fine sheet of water about a hundred yards broad, but only three feet deep, the only difficulty being in the steepness of the opposite shore.

Having passed the heat of the day under a neighbouring tamarind tree, we continued our march in a south-easterly direction to the village Dáway. Here we pitched our tent in the neat little square near the “msíd,” all the matting fences surrounding the cottages being new and having a very clean appearance. My object in staying here was to confer with the “bíllama” as to the best means of crossing the larger branch of the komádugu, which runs at a short distance beyond this village, and the passage of which was said to be very difficult at the time, encumbered as we were with animals and luggage. But it was very extraordinary that the people here contended that the river then was higher than it had been ten days previously; although I did not find this statement confirmed on our actually crossing it the following morning, the water exhibiting evident signs of having decreased, an observation which exactly corresponds with what I have remarked on a former occasion with regard to the nature of this komádugu. The river here spread out to a considerable extent, and we had some difficulty in crossing it. The greatest depth was more than four feet; but the spreading out of the water was the reason that it was here passable at all, although it had become too shallow to employ the native craft, while lower down, between this place and Zéngirí, it could not be forded. Having then crossed three smaller channels and passed the village Kinjéberí, once a large town and encompassed by a wide clay wall, we took up our quarters in a poor hamlet called Margwa Sheríferí, from a sheríf who had settled here many years ago; for, in order to procure myself a good reception from the ruler of Bórnu, after the great political disturbances which had taken place, I thought it prudent to send a messenger to him to announce my arrival. I only needed to give full expression to my real feelings in order to render my letter acceptable to my former protector, for my delight had been extreme, after the news which I had received of ʿAbd e’ Rahmán having usurped the supreme power, on hearing that the just and lawful Sheikh ʿOmár had once more regained possession of the royal authority. The consequence was, that when, after having traversed the district of Koyám, with its straggling villages, its fine herds of camels, and its deep wells, some of them more than forty fathoms in depth, I approached the town on the 11th December, I found ʿAbd e’ Nebí, the chief eunuch of the Sheikh, with thirty horsemen posted at the village of Kalíluwá, where a market was just held, in order to give me a honourable reception. Thus I re-entered the town of Kúkawa, whence I had set out on my dangerous journey to the west, in stately procession. On entering my quarters I was agreeably surprised at finding the two sappers, Corporal Church and private Macguire, who had been sent out from England to accompany Mr. Vogel, and to join me, if possible, in my proceedings.

CHAP. LXXXIV.

LAST RESIDENCE IN KÚKAWA. — BENEFIT OF EUROPEAN SOCIETY.

On reaching safely the town of Kúkawa, which had been my head-quarters for so long a period, and from whence I had first commenced my journeys of exploration in Negroland, it might seem that I had overcome all the difficulties in the way of complete success, and that I could now enjoy a short stay in the same place before traversing the last stage of my homeward journey. Such however was not the case, and it was my lot to pass four months in this town under rather unpleasant circumstances. I had expected to find sufficient means here, and had in consequence agreed to repay the sum of 200 dollars lent me by the Fezzáni merchant Khweldi, in Kanó; but there were only a few dollars in cash left of the supplies taken out by Mr. Vogel, those deposited by myself in Zínder in the hands of the Sheríf el Fási, viz., 400 dollars in cash and a box containing a considerable amount of iron ware, having been plundered during the turbulent state of the country produced by the revolution. Even of the merchandise which had been lately despatched to Zínder, and from thence, in consequence of Mr. Vogel’s arrangements, transported to Kúkawa, a very considerable proportion was found, on a close examination, to have been abstracted. Being therefore in want of money, and convinced that if such an outrage were allowed to pass by unnoticed no peaceable intercourse could ever be carried on between this country and Europeans, I explained these circumstances in the first audience which I had of the Sheikh, to whom I made a present worth about eight pounds sterling.

While therefore once more assuring him of my unbounded satisfaction at finding him reinstated in his former power, I requested him not to suffer me to be treated in this manner by thieves and robbers, and to exert his influence for the restoration of my property. This proceeding of mine, as responsible to the government under whose auspices I was travelling, involved me in a series of difficulties, and excited against me Díggama, one of the most influential courtiers at the time, and a man of mean character, as it was his servant, or more probably himself, who had obtained possession of the greater part of the plunder. In order to counteract the intrigues of this man I endeavoured to secure the friendship of Yusuf, the Sheikh’s next eldest brother, an intelligent and straightforward man, by making him a handsome present and explaining to him, in unequivocal terms, how a friendly intercourse between themselves and the English could only exist if they acted in a conscientious manner. Another circumstance which contributed to render my situation in this place still more uncomfortable, was the relation which existed between Mr. Vogel and Corporal Church, one of the sappers who had come with him from England; and I was sorry that the praiseworthy and generous intention of the Government in sending out these two useful persons, should not be carried out to the fullest extent, but, on the contrary, should be baffled by private animosity. In this respect I had already been greatly disappointed and grieved, on hearing from Mr. Vogel, when I met him on the road, that he had gone alone to Mándará, without making any use of the services of his companions. I did all in my power to convince the two sappers that under the circumstances in which they were placed, they ought to forget petty jealousies, as it was only by a mutual good understanding that complete success in such undertakings could be secured. I succeeded in convincing Macguire, although I was less successful with Corporal Church.

Meanwhile I spent my time in a tolerably useful manner, looking over some of the books which Mr. Vogel had brought with him, especially M. Jomard’s introduction to the translation of the “Voyage au Waday,” by M. Perron, and the “Flora Nigritia” of Sir William Hooker. I was also considerably interested by the perusal of a packet of letters which had been conveyed in the very box that had been plundered, and which, although dating back as late as December, 1851, afforded me a great deal of pleasure. Partly in order to fulfil a vow which I had made, and partly to obtain a more secure hold upon the friendly dispositions of the natives, I made a present to the inhabitants of the capital, on Christmas-day, of fourteen oxen, not forgetting either rich or poor, blind or fókara, nor even the Arab strangers.

My residence in the town became infinitely more cheerful, in consequence of the arrival of Mr. Vogel, on the 29th December, when I spent a period of twenty days most pleasantly in the company of this enterprising and courageous young traveller, who, with surprising facility, accustomed himself to all the relations of this strange life. But while borne away by the impulse of his own enthusiasm, and giving up all pretensions to the comforts of life, he unfortunately committed the mistake of expecting that his companions, recently arrived from Europe, and whose ideas were less elevated, should do the same, and this had given rise to a lamentable quarrel, which frustrated in a great measure the intentions of the Government who had sent out the party. Exchanging opinions with regard to countries which we had both of us traversed, and planning schemes as to the future course which Mr. Vogel was to pursue, and especially as to the next journey which he was to undertake towards Yákoba and Ádamáwa, we passed our time very agreeably. I communicated to him, as far as it was possible in so short a space of time, all the information which I had collected during my extensive wanderings, and called his attention to various points which I begged him to clear up, especially with regard to some remarkable specimens of the vegetable kingdom, and the famous mermaid of the Bénuwé, the “ayú.” It was rather unfortunate that no copy of the map which had been constructed from the materials which I had sent home had reached him, so that he remained in the dark with regard to many points which I had already cleared up. I also delivered to Mr. Vogel those letters of introduction which I had received from the ruler of Sókoto, addressed to the various governors of the provinces in this part of his empire, so that he had a fair prospect before him of being well received. We, moreover, lost no time in obtaining the Sheikh’s consent to his journey, and at the same time caused to be imprisoned Mesaúd, that servant of the mission who, by his connivance, had facilitated the theft committed upon my effects. In consequence of this energetic proceeding, several of the stolen articles came to light, even of those which had formed the contents of the box sent from England.

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