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[iii]CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.

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CHAPTER XXII.
	Page
Separation of the Travellers. — The Border Districts of the Independent Pagan Confederation. — Tasáwa	1
Dissembling of the Chief. — His steadfast Character. — Mr. Richardson’s Health. — Separation. — Different Roads to Kanó. — Animated Intercourse. — Native Warfare. — The First Large Tamarind-tree. — Villages and Wells. — Separation from Mr. Overweg. — Improved Scenery. — Encampment at Gozenákko. — Lively Camp-scene. — Native Delicacies. — Revenues of Tasáwa. — Astounding Message. — Visit to Tasáwa. — The Market in Tasáwa. — Náchirá, Ánnur’s Estate. — Character of the People and their Dwellings. — Intrigue defeated. — Counting Shells. — A Petty Sultan. — Dyeing-Pits.
CHAP. XXIII.
Gazáwa. — Residence in Kátsena	32
An African Dandy. — My Protector Elaiji. — Camp-life. — Fortifications and Market of Gazáwa. — March resumed. — Desolate Wilderness. — Site of Dánkama. — Struggle between Islámism and Paganism. — Encampment near Kátsena. — Estimate of Salt-caravan. — Negro Horsemen. — Equestrian Musicians. — The Governor of Kátsena. — Detained by him. — The Governor’s Wiles. — Disputes. — Who is the “Káfer?” — Clapperton’s Companion. — The Tawáti Bel-Ghét conciliated. — Extortionate Demands. — Subject about the Káfer resumed. — The Presents. — Promenade through the Town. — The Governor’s Wishes. — Taking Leave of him.
[iv]CHAP. XXIV.
Háusa. — History and Description of Kátsena. — Entry into Kanó	69
The Name Háusa. — Origin of the Háusa Nation. — The seven States. — Origin of the Town of Kátsena. — The Mohammedan Missionary Ben Maghíli. — Kings of Kátsena. — The First Moslim. — The Oldest Quarter. — Magnitude of the Town. — Its Decline. — Salubrious Site and Favourable Situation of Kátsena. — Departure from Kátsena. — Wild State of the Country. — Shibdáwa. — Rich Scenery. — Kusáda. — The Bentang Tree. — Women with Heavy Loads. — Beehives. — Gúrzo. — Approach to Kanó. — Straggling Villages. — Composition of our Troop. — First View of Dalá. — Entering Kanó.
CHAP. XXV.
Residence in Kanó. — View of its Interior. — Its History and Present State. — Commerce	97
My Situation in Kanó. — Debts. — Projects. — The Commissioner. — Difficulties. — Sickness. — Interior of Kanó; Animated Picture. — The Quarters of the Conquered and the Ruling Race. — The “Serkí” and the Gháladíma. — The Audience. — Presents. — Plan of Kanó. — Street-groups. — Industry. — View from Mount Dalá. — Acquaintances in Kanó. — Meditated Departure. — Historical Sketch of Kanó. — Growth of the Town. — The Quarters of the Town. — Ground-plan of my House. — Population. — Commerce. — Various Kinds of Zénne. — Export of Cloth. — Grand Character of Trade. — Produce. — The Guinea-fowl Shirt. — Leather-work. — Kola-nut. — Slaves. — Natron, Salt, Ivory-trade. — European Goods in Kanó. — The South American Slave-traders. — Small Quantity of Calico. — Silk. — Woollen Cloth. — Beads. — Sugar. — Fire-arms. — Razors. — Arab Dresses. — Copper. — The Shells and the Dollar. — Markets of Kanó. — Revenues. — Administration. — The Conquering Tribe.
CHAP. XXVI.
Starting for Kúkawa. — The Frontier-district	148
Leaving Kanó quite by myself. — My Trooper. — Get off later. — Domestic Slavery. — Gezáwa. — My Runaway Servant ʿAbd Allah. — The Sheríf and his Attendants. — Mules in Negroland. — Kúka Mairuwá. — Insecurity. — Scarcity of Water. — Natron-trade. — Endurance and Privations of the Traveller. — Arrival at Gerki. — Take Leave of Háusa. — Gúmmel. — Housebuilding. — Antidote. — Market at Gúmmel. — Magnitude of Ilóri.[v] — Two Spanish Dollars. — Depart from Gúmmel. — Benzári. — The Rebel Chief Bokhári. — His Exploits. — The Governor of Máshena. — Letter-carrier’s Mistake. — Curious Talisman. — Manga Warriors. — Wuëlleri. — Scarcity of Water again. — Town of Máshena. — State of the Country. — Cheerful, Out-of-the-way Place. — Álamáy. — Búndi and the Gháladíma. — The Kárda. — Route from Kanó to Álamáy by way of Khadéja.
CHAP. XXVII.
Bórnu Proper	197
Intercourse. — Change of Life in Negroland. — Region of the Dúm-palm. — The Kúri Ox. — The River Wáni. — Enter Bórnu Proper. — Zurríkuló. — News of the Death of Mr. Richardson. — Sandy Downs. — Déffowa. — Industry. — The Stray Camel. — Town of Wádi. — Good Market and no Provisions. — Hospitable Treatment. — The Banks of the Wáni. — Locusts and Hawks. — Ngurútuwa; Grave of Mr. Richardson. — The Tawárek again. — Aláune. — The Jungles of the Komádugu. — Ruins of Ghámbarú. — A Forest Encampment. — Nomadic Herdsmen. — Abundance of Milk. — Ford of the Komádugu. — Native Ferry-boats. — Khér-Álla, the Border-warfarer. — Changing Guides. — The Runaway Horse. — A Domestic Quarrel.
CHAP. XXVIII.
Arrival in Kúkawa	240
Peculiar Character of the Alluvial Plains of Bórnu. — The Attentive Woman. — Entrance into Kúkawa. — Servants of the Mission. — Debts of the Mission. — Interview with the Vizier. — Sheikh ʿOmár. — Mr. Richardson’s Property. — Amicable Arrangements.
CHAP. XXIX.
Authenticity and general Character of the History of Bórnu	253
Documents. — Beginning of written History. — Pedigree of the Bórnu Kings. — Chronology. — Harmony of Facts. — The Séfuwa Dynasty. — Ébn Khaldún. — Makrízí and Ébn Batúta. — Surprising Accuracy of the Chronicle of Bórnu. — Statement of Leo Africanus. — Berber Origin of the Séfuwa. — Form of Government. — The Berber Race. — The Queen Mother. — Indigenous Tribes. — The Tedá or Tebu. — The Soy. — Epochs of Bórnu History. — Greatest Power. — Decline of the Bórnu Empire. — The Kánemíyín.
[vi]CHAP. XXX.
The Capital of Bornu	283
My Friends. — The Arab Áhmed bel Mejúb. — The Púllo Íbrahím from the Senegal. — Dangerous Medical Practice. — Áhmed the Traveller. — My Bórnu Friends. — The Vizier el Háj Beshír; his Career; his Domestic Establishment; his Leniency. — Debts of the Mission paid. — The English House. — Plague of Insects. — Preparations for a Journey. — Character of Kúkawa. — The Two Towns. — The Great Market. — Business and Concourse. — Defective Currency. — Prices of Provisions. — Fruits. — Camels. — Horses. — Want of Native Industry. — Bórnu Women. — Promenade.
CHAP. XXXI.
The Tsád	319
Character of the Road to Ngórnu. — Ngórnu. — Searching the Tsád. — Longer Excursion. — Character of the Shores of the Tsád. — The Búdduma and their Boats. — Fresh Water. — Swampy Plains. — Boats of the Búdduma again. — Maduwári. — Dress of the Sugúrti. — Account of the Lake. — Shores of the Creek. — Sóyorum. — Káwa. — Return to Kúkawa. — Servants dismissed. — Mohammed Titíwi the Auspicious Messenger. — Slave-caravan. — Announcement of Rainy Season. — Ride to Gawánge. — Mr. Overweg’s Arrival. — Meeting. — Property restored. — Mercantile Intrigues. — The Sheikh’s Relatives. — Messengers from Ádamáwa. — Anticipated Importance of the Eastern Branch of the Niger — Proposed Journey to Ádamáwa.
CHAP. XXXII.
Setting out on my Journey to Ádamáwa. — The Flat, Swampy Grounds of Bórnu	351
Leaving Kúkawa. — The Road Southwards. — Inhospitality near the Capital. — Buying with a Shirt. — The Winter Corn. — The Shúwa Arabs. — Múngholo Gezáwa. — Fair Arabs. — Magá District. — The Gámerghú District. — District of Ujé. — Fine Country. — Mábaní. — Pilgrim Traders, Banks of the Yáloë. — First View of the Mountains. — Fúgo Mozári. — Market of Ujé. — Aláwo. — Approach to Mándará.
[vii]CHAP. XXXIII.
The Border-country of the Marghí	374
Question about Snowy Mountains. — The Blacksmith. — Shámo District. — A Storm. — Molghoy. — The Southern Molghoy. — Large Kúrna-trees. — Structure of the Huts. — Deviations from Negro Type. — The Marghí, their Attire and Language. — Edible Wild Fruits. — The Baobab. — Beautiful Scenery. — Íssege. — Spirit of the Natives. — Degenerate Fúlbe. — The Lake. — View of Mount Míndif. — Wándalá Mountains. — Route to Sugúr. — The Marghí Tribe. — Scientific Dispute. — Unsafe Wilderness. — Unwholesome Water. — The Return of the Slave Girl. — The Bábir Tribe. — Laháula. — The Idol. — Alarm. — Abundance of Vegetable Butter. — Serious March. — The Báza Tribe. — The Dividing Range. — Úba. — The New Colony.
CHAP. XXXIV.
Ádamáwa. Mohammedan Settlements in the Heart of Central Africa	414
The Conquering Tribe. — The Granite Hills. — Valley and Mountain-chain. — Isolated Mountain-groups. — Múbi. — The Surrounding Country. — Origin of the Fúlbe. — Bágma and Peculiar Structures. — Camels a Novelty. — Compliment paid to the Christian. — Mbutúdi. — Fúlbe Way of Saluting. — The Déléb-palm (Borassus flabelliformis?) and its Fruit. — The Granite Mount. — Simplicity of Manners. — Mount Hólma. — Legéro. — Edible Productions. — Ground-nut Diet. — Badaníjo. — Fertile Vale. — Temporary Scarcity. — Kurúlu. — Red and white Sorghum. — Saráwu Beréberé. — Comfortable Quarters. — Accurate Description. — Important Situation of Saráwu. — Tebu Traders. — Fair Negroes. — Market of Saráwu. — Saráwu Fulfúlde. — The Mansion. — The Blind Governor. — Principal Men in Yóla. — Mount Konkel. — Bélem. — An Arab Adventurer. — Rich Vegetation. — The young Púllo. — Old Mʿallem Dalíli. — Arab Colony. — A Country for Colonies. — Ruined Village (Melágo). — Gastronomic Discussion. — Máyo Tíyel. — The Bátta Tribe. — Sulléri. — Inhospitable Reception.
CHAP. XXXV.
The Meeting of the Waters. — The Bénuwé and Fáro	463
Approach to the River. — Mount Alantíka and the Bénuwé. — The Tépe or “Junction.” — The great Arm of the Kwára. — The Traveller’s Pursuits. — Highroad of Commerce. — The Frail Canoes. — Bathing in[viii] the Bénuwé. — The Passage. — The River Fáro; its Current. — Floods and Fall of the River. — Chabajáure. — Densely inhabited District. — Mount Bágelé. — The Backwater. — Ribágo. — Cultivation of Rice. — The Bátta Language. — Inundation. — Yebbórewó. — Mount Bágelé and Island. — Reach Yóla.
CHAP. XXXVI.
My Reception in Yóla. — Short Stay. — Dismissal	485
Inauspicious Entrance. — Curiosity of Natives. — Quarters. — An Arab Traveller to Lake Nyassa. — The Governor Mohammed Lowel. — The Audience. — The Mission repulsed. — The Governor’s Brother Mansúr. — Ordered to withdraw. — Begin my Return-Journey. — Character of Yóla. — Slavery. — Extent of Fúmbiná. — Elevation and Climate. — Vegetable and Animal Kingdom. — Principal Chiefs of the Country. — Tribes; the Bátta, the Chámba, and other Tribes.
CHAP. XXXVII.
My Journey Home from Ádamáwa	515
Start from Ribágo. — Hospitable Treatment in Sulléri. — Demsa-Póha. — The Memorable Campaign Southward. — View of a Native Settlement. — Beautiful Country. — Bélem again. — Mʿallem Dalíli and his Family. — Múglebú. — Múbi. — My Quarters. — Household Furniture. — Úba. — Unsafe Boundary-district. — Laháula. — Íssege. — Iron Ornaments of the Marghí. — Funeral Dance. — Ordeal. — Feeling of Love. — A Party going to Sacrifice. — Arrival at Yerímarí. — Villages of the Gámerghú. — Ujé Kásukulá. — Difference of Climate. — Plants. — Huts. — Plains of Bórnu Proper. — Seizing a Hut. — African Schoolboys. — A wandering Tribe. — Town and Country. — Guineaworm. — Thunder-storm. — People returning from Market. — Múnghono. — Return to Kúkawa.

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APPENDIX.
I.
Quarters of the Town of Kátsena	555
II.
Chief Places in the Province of Kátsena	557
[ix]III.
Chief Places in the Province of Kanó, and Routes diverging from Kanó in various Directions, principally towards the South	558
IV.
Collection of Itineraries passing through the various Districts of Ádamáwa	587
V.
Chronological Table,
Containing a List of the Séfuwa, or Kings of Bórnu descended from Séf, with the few historical facts and events under their respective reigns, that have come to our knowledge	633
VI.
Fragments of a Meteorological Register	673

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[x]LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
IN
THE SECOND VOLUME.

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MAPS.
			Page
VII.	Routes between Kátsena and Kúkawa		i
VIII.	Route from Kúkawa to Yóla		351
PLATES.
1.	Tépe, the confluence of the Bénuwé and Fáro	Frontispiece
2.	Kanó from Mount Dalá	to face	111
3.	Dendal in Kúkawa	„	243
4.	Kálu-Kemé, the open Water of the Tsád	„	331
5.	Shores of Lake Tsád	„	332
6.	Mbutúdi	„	425
7.	Demsa-póha	„	521
8.	Múglebu	„	525
WOODCUTS.
Corn-stack			5
Negro Stirrup			46
Ground-plan of the Town of Kátsena			79
Ground-plan of the Town of Kanó			107
Dagger and Scabbard			110
[xi]Ground-plan of my House in Kanó			124
Guinea-fowl Shirt			129
Sandals			130
Leather Pocket			ib.
Henhouse			207
Ground-plan of House in Kúkawa			299
Ground-plan of the Town of Kúkawa			304
The Seghëum of the Marghí			384
Double Peak of Mount Míndif			396
View of Mountain-chain of Úba			416
Mountain			418
Another Mountain			419
Mount Kilba-Gáya			ib.
Mountain-chain, Fingting			421
Mount Hólma			431
Mount Kurúlu			437
Ground-plan of Huts			439
Couch-screen			441
Picturesque Cone			442
Mountain-range beyond Saráwu			450
Mount Kónkel			451
The Governor’s Audience-hall			490
Picturesque Cone			518
Ground-plan of Hut in Múbi			527
Household Furniture			528
Hand-bill			532
Shield			537
Different Shape of Huts			549

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[1]TRAVELS AND DISCOVERIES
IN
AFRICA.

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CHAPTER XXII.

SEPARATION OF THE TRAVELLERS. — THE BORDER DISTRICTS OF THE INDEPENDENT PAGAN CONFEDERATION. — TASÁWA.

Friday, Jan. 10th, 1851.The important day had arrived when we were to separate not only from each other, but also from the old chief Ánnur, upon whom our fortunes had been dependent for so long a period. Having concealed his real intentions till the very last moment, he at length, with seeming reluctance, pretended that he was going first to Zínder. He confided me, therefore, to the care of his brother Elaiji, a most amiable old man, only a year younger than himself, but of a very different character, who was to take the lead of the salt-caravan to Kanó; and he promised me that I should arrive there in safety.

[2]I had been so fortunate as to secure for myself, as far as that place, the services of Gajére, who was settled in Tágelel, where he was regarded as Ánnur’s chief slave, or overseer (“babá-n-báwa”). This man I hired, together with a mare of his, for myself, and a very fine pack-ox for that part of my luggage which my faithful camel, the Bu-Séfi, was unable to carry. Ánnur, I must say, behaved excellently towards me in this matter; for, having called me and Gajére into his presence, he presented his trusty servant, before all the people, with a red bernús on my account, enjoining him in the strictest terms to see me safe to Kanó.

And so I separated from our worthy old friend with deep and sincere regret. He was a most interesting specimen of an able politician and a peaceful ruler in the midst of wild, lawless hordes; and I must do him the justice of declaring that he behaved, on the whole, exceedingly well towards us. I cannot avoid expressing the sorrow I afterwards felt on account of the step which Mr. Richardson thought himself justified in taking as soon as he had passed from the hands of Ánnur into those of the authorities of Bórnu, viz., to urge the sheikh of that country to claim restitution from the former, not only for the value of the things taken from us by the bordering tribes of the desert, but even of part of the sum which we had paid to Ánnur himself. Such conduct, it appeared to me, was not only impolitic, but unfair. It was impolitic, because the claim[3] could be of no avail, and would only serve to alienate from us a man whom we had succeeded in making our friend; and it was unfair, for, although the sum which we had given to the chief was rather large in proportion to our limited means, we were not compelled to pay it, but were simply given to understand that, if we wanted the chief himself to accompany us, we must contribute so much. I became fully aware of the unfavourable effect which Mr. Richardson’s proceedings in this respect produced, on the occasion of a visit which I paid the old chief in the beginning of the year 1853, when passing through Zínder on my way to Timbúktu. He then mentioned the circumstance with much feeling, and asked me if, judging from his whole behaviour towards us, he had deserved to be treated as a robber.

But to return to Tágelel, when I shook hands with the “sófo” he was sitting, like a patriarch of old, in the midst of his slaves and free men, male and female, and was dividing amongst them presents, such as shawls and turkedies, but principally painted armrings of clay, imported from Egypt, and of which the women of these districts are passionately fond. Mr. Richardson being ready to start, I took a hearty farewell of him, fixing our next place of meeting in Kúkawa, about the first of April. He was tolerably well at the time, although he had shown evident symptoms of being greatly affected by the change from the fine fresh air of the mountainous district of Aïr to the sultry climate of the fertile lands of Negroland;[4] and he was quite incapable of bearing the heat of the sun, for which reason he always carried an umbrella, instead of accustoming himself to it by degrees. There was some sinister foreboding in the circumstance that I did not feel sufficient confidence to intrust to his care a parcel for Europe. I had sealed it expressly that he might take it with him to Kúkawa, and send it off from that place with his own despatches immediately after his arrival; but at the moment of parting I preferred taking it myself to Kanó. All my best friends amongst the Kél-owí were also going to Zínder, in order, as they said, to accompany their master, although only a small part of the salt-caravan followed that route. Overweg and I remained together for two or three days longer.

I felt happy in the extreme when I found myself once more on horseback, however deficient in beauty my little mare might be; for few energetic Europeans, I think, will relish travelling for any length of time on camel’s back, as they are far too dependent on the caprice of the animal. We set out at half-past seven o’clock, and soon passed on our right a village, and then a second one, which I think was Dákari, where a noble lady of handsome figure, and well mounted upon a bullock, joined the caravan. She was seated in a most comfortable large chair, which was fastened on the bullock’s back. We afterwards passed on our right the town of Olalówa, situated on a low range of hills. In the lower plain[5] into which we next descended, I observed the first regular ant-hill. Small groups of corn-stacks, or rumbús, further on dotted a depression or hollow, which was encompassed on both sides with gently-sloping hills. Here I had to leave the path of the caravan with my new companion Gajére, who was riding the bullock, in order to water our two beasts, a duty which now demanded our chief attention every day.

At length we reached the watering-place of Gílmirám, consisting of a group of not less than twenty wells, but all nearly dry. The district of Damerghú must sometimes suffer greatly from drought. The horses and cattle of the village were just coming to be watered; what time and pains it must take to satisfy a whole herd, when we were scarcely able to water our two animals! Passing along through thick underwood, where the “kálgo,” with its large dry leaves of olive hue, and its long red pods similar to those of the kharúb-tree, but much larger, predominated almost exclusively, and leaving the village Maihánkuba on our right, we at last overtook the caravan; for the Ásbenáwa pack-oxen are capable of carrying heavy loads at a very expeditious pace, and in this respect leave far behind them the pack-oxen of the fertile regions of Negroland. We now kept along through the woody region, where the tree “góshi,” with an edible fruit, was most frequent. We encamped in a thickly-wooded hollow, when my[6] sociable companion Gajére, as well by the care he took for our evening fire (which he arranged in the most scientific way) as by the information he gave me with regard to the routes leading from Zínder to Kanó, contributed greatly to the comfort and cheerfulness of our bivouac. I first learned from him that there are four different routes from Zínder to Kanó, one route, the westernmost, passing by Dáura; the second, passing by Kazáure; the third, by Garú-n-Gedúnia; the fourth, by Gúmmel (or, as he pronounced it, Gúmiel[1]), gari-n-serki-n-Da-n-Tanóma, this being the easternmost and longest route. Gajére himself was only acquainted with the third route, the stations of which are as follows.

Starting from Zínder you sleep the first night in Gógo, the second in Mokókia, the third in Zólunzólun, the fourth in Magáriá, the fifth in Túnfushí, the sixth in Garú-n-Gedúnia, from whence it is three days’ journey to Kanó.

Saturday, January 11th.My people, Gajére, and myself started considerably in advance of the caravan, in order to water the animals at our leisure, and fill the waterskins. It was a beautiful morning, and our march a most pleasant one; a tall sort of grass called “gámba” covered the whole ground. Thus we went on cheerfully, passing by a well at present dry, situated in a small hollow and surrounded with fine trees which were enlivened by numbers of Guinea fowl and wild[7] pigeons. Beyond this spot the country became more open; and about five miles from the well we reached the pond or “tébki-n-rúwa Kúdura,” close on the right of our path. It was already partly dried up, and the water had quite a milky colour from the nature of the ground, which consists of a whitish clay; but during the rainy season, and for some time afterwards, when all the trees which surround it in its dry state stand in the midst of the water, it is of considerable size. There are a great many kálgo-trees here. We also met a small troop of men very characteristic of the country we had entered, being wanton in behaviour and light in dress, having nothing on but short shirts (the colour of which had once been dark blue) and diminutive straw hats, while all their luggage consisted of a small leathern bag with pounded “géro” or millet, some gourd bottles to contain the fura, besides two or three drinking-vessels. One of them, an exceedingly tall fellow, rode a horse scarcely able to carry him, though the cavalier was almost as lean as his Rosinante. Soon afterwards the pond became enlivened by the arrival of a caravan of pack-oxen, everything indicating that we had reached a region where intercourse was easy and continuous.

We remained here nearly two hours, till the “aïri” came up, when we joined it, and soon discovered the reason of their being so long; for in the thick underwood the long strings of camels could not proceed fast, and the stoppages were frequent. We then met[8] another small caravan. At a quarter past four in the afternoon we encamped in a locality called Amsúsu, in the midst of the forest. We were busy pitching the tent, when a body of about sixteen horsemen came up, all dressed in the Tawárek fashion, but plainly indicating their intermixture with the Háusa people by their less muscular frame, and by the variety of their dress; and in fact they all belonged to that curious mulatto tribe called Búzu (pl. Búzawe). They were going on a “yáki,” but whether against the Awelímmiden or the Féllani I could not learn at the time; the latter, however, proved to be the case.

The earth hereabouts was filled with a peculiar kind of small worms, which greatly annoyed any person lying on the bare ground, so that I was very fortunate in having my “gadó” with me. A bedstead of some kind is a most necessary piece of furniture for an African traveller, as I have already remarked on a previous occasion; but it should be of a lighter description than my heavy boards, which, notwithstanding their thickness, were soon split, and at length smashed to pieces, in the thick forests through which we often had to pass. Our bivouac in the evening round our fire was exceedingly agreeable, the staid and grave demeanour of my burly and energetic companion imposing even upon the frivolous Mohammed, who at this time behaved much better than usual. Gajére informed me that the direct western road from here to Tasáwa passed by the[9] village Gárari, the pond Úrafa, the well Jíga, and by Birni-n-Tázin, while we were to follow an eastern road. Not far from our encampment, eastward, was a swamp named Tágelel.

Sunday, January 12th.Several camels were missing in the morning, as was indeed very natural in a country like this, thickly covered with trees and underwood. Soon, however, a tremendously shrill cry, passing from troop to troop, and producing altogether a most startling effect, announced that the animals had been found; and a most interesting and lively scene ensued, each party, scattered as the caravan was through the forest, beginning to load their camels on any narrow open space at hand. The sky was thickly overcast; and the sun did not break forth till after we had gone some three or four miles. We passed a beautiful tsámia, or tamarind-tree, which was, I think, the first full-grown tree of this species we had seen, those in Tágelel being mere dwarfs. Having descended a little, we passed at eleven o’clock a small hamlet or farming-village called Kauye-n-Sálakh; and I afterwards observed the first tulip-tree, splendidly covered with the beautiful flower just open in all the natural finery of its colours, while not a single leaf adorned the tree. I think this was the first tree of the kind we had passed on our road, although Overweg (whose attention I drew to it) asserted that he had seen specimens of it the day before; nevertheless I doubt their having escaped my observation, as I took the greatest interest in noting down accurately[10] where every new species of plant first appeared. At four o’clock in the afternoon we saw the first cotton-fields, which alternated with the corn-fields most agreeably. The former are certainly the greatest and most permanent ornament of any landscape in these regions, the plant being in leaf at almost every season of the year, and partly even in a state of fructification; but a field of full-grown cotton-plants, in good order, is very rarely met with in these countries, as they are left generally in a wild state, over-grown with all sorts of rank grass. A little beyond these fields we pitched our tent.

Monday, January 13th.We started at rather a late hour, our road being crossed by a number of small paths which led to watering-places; and we were soon surrounded by a great many women from a neighbouring village called Baíbay, offering for sale, to the people of the caravan, “godjía,” or ground-nuts, and “dákkwa,” a sort of dry paste made of pounded Guinea corn (Pennisetum), with dates and an enormous quantity of pepper. This is the meaning of dákkwa in these districts; it is, however, elsewhere used as a general term signifying only paste, and is often employed to denote a very palatable sort of sweatmeat made of pounded rice, butter, and honey. We then passed on our left the fields of the village, those near the road being well and carefully fenced, and lying around the well, where half the inhabitants of the place were assembled to draw water, which required no small pains, the depth of the well exceeding[11] twenty fathoms. Attempting to water the horse, I found that the water was excessively warm; unfortunately, I had not got my thermometer with me, but resolved to be more careful in future. On passing the village, we were struck by the neatness with which it was fenced on this side; and I afterwards learned by experience what a beautiful and comfortable dwelling may be arranged with no other material than reeds and corn-stalks. The population of these villages consists of a mixture of Mohammedans and pagans; but I think the majority of the inhabitants are Mohammedans.

After a short interval of woody country, we passed a village of the name of Chirák, with another busy scene round the well. In many districts in Central Africa the labour of drawing water, for a portion of the year, is so heavy that it occupies the greater part of the inhabitants half the day; but fortunately, at this season, with the exception of weaving a little cotton, they have no other employment, while during the season when agricultural labours are going on water is to be found everywhere, and the wells are not used at all. Búzawe are scattered everywhere hereabouts, and infuse into the population a good deal of Berber blood. Very pure Háusa is spoken.

It was near Chirák that Overweg, who had determined to go directly to Tasáwa, in order to commence his intended excursion to Góber and Marádi separated from me. This was indeed quite a gallant commencement[12] of his undertaking, as he had none of Ánnur’s people with him, and besides Ibrahím and the useful snake-like Amánkay (who had recovered from his guineaworm), his only companion was a Tébu who had long been settled in Ásben, and whom he had engaged for the length of his intended trip. At that time he had still the firm intention to go to Kúkawa by way of Kanó, and begged me to leave his things there. He was in excellent health, and full of an enthusiastic desire to devote himself to the study of the new world which opened before us; and we parted with a hearty wish for each other’s success in our different quarters before we were to meet again in the capital of Bórnu—for we did not then know that we should have an interview in Tasáwa.

I now went on alone, but felt not at all depressed by solitude, as I had been accustomed from my youth to wander about by myself among strange people. I felt disposed, indeed, to enter into a closer connection with my black friend Gajére, who was very communicative, but oftentimes rather rude, and unable to refrain from occasionally mocking the stranger who wanted to know everything, and would not acknowledge Mohammed in all his prophetic glory. He called my attention to several new kinds of trees while we were passing the two villages Bagángaré and Tangónda. These were the “baushi,” the “karámmia,” and the “gónda,” the last being identical with the Carica Papaya, and rather rare in the northern parts of Negroland, but very common in[13] the country between Kátsena and Núpe, and scattered in single specimens over all the country from Kanó and Gújeba southwards to the river Bénuwé; but at that time I was ignorant that it bore a splendid fruit, with which I first became acquainted in Kátsena. The whole country, indeed, had a most interesting and cheerful appearance, villages and cornfields succeeding each other with only short intervals of thick underwood, which contributed to give richer variety to the whole landscape, while the ground was undulating, and might sometimes even be called hilly. We met a numerous herd of fine cattle belonging to Gozenákko, returning to their pasture-grounds after having been watered,—the bulls all with the beautiful hump, and of fine strong limbs, but of moderate size, and with small horns. Scarcely had this moving picture passed before our eyes, when another interesting and characteristic procession succeeded—a long troop of men, all carrying on their heads large baskets filled with the fruit of the góreba (Cucifera, or Hyphaene Thebaïca), commonly called the gingerbread-tree, which, in many of the northern districts of Negroland, furnishes a most important article of food, and certainly seasons many dishes very pleasantly, as I shall have occasion to mention in the course of my narrative. Further on, the fields were enlivened with cattle grazing in the stubble, while a new species of tree, the “kírria,” attracted my attention.

Thus we reached Gozenákko; and while my servants[14] Mohammed and the Gatróni went with the camel to the camping-ground, I followed my sturdy overseer to the village in order to water the horse; for though I might have sent one of my men afterwards, I preferred taking this opportunity of seeing the interior of the village. It is of considerable size, and consists of a town and its suburbs, the former being surrounded with a “kéffi,” or close stockade of thick stems of trees, while the suburbs are ranged around without any inclosure or defence. All the houses consist of conical huts made entirely of stalks and reeds; and great numbers of little granaries were scattered among them. As it was about half-past two in the afternoon, the people were sunk in slumber or repose, and the well was left to our disposal; afterwards, however, we were obliged to pay for the water. We then joined the caravan, which had encamped at no great distance eastward of the village, in the stubble-fields. These, enlivened as they were by a number of tall fan-palms besides a variety of other trees, formed a very cheerful open ground for our little trading-party, which, preparing for a longer stay of two or three days, had chosen its ground in a more systematic way, each person arranging his “tákrufa,” or the straw sacks containing the salt, so as to form a barrier open only on one side, in the shape of an elongated horseshoe, in the recess of which they might stow away their slender stock of less bulky property, and sleep themselves, while in order to protect the salt from behind, a light[15] stockade of the stalks of Guinea corn was constructed on that side; for having now exchanged the regions of highway robbers and marauders for those of thieves, we had nothing more to fear from open attacks, but a great deal from furtive attempts by night.

Scarcely had our people made themselves comfortable, when their appetite was excited by a various assortment of the delicacies of the country, clamourously offered for sale by crowds of women from the village. The whole evening a discordant chime was rung upon the words “nóno” (sour milk), “may” (butter), “dodówa” (the vegetable-paste above mentioned), “kúka” (the young leaves of the Adansonia, which are used for making an infusion with which meat or the “túwo” is eaten), and “yáru da dária.” The last of these names, indeed, is one which characterizes and illustrates the cheerful disposition of the Háusa people; for the literal meaning of it is, “the laughing boy,” or “the boy to laugh,” while it signifies the sweet ground-nut, which if roasted is indeed one of the greatest delicacies of the country. Reasoning from subsequent experience, I thought it remarkable that no “túwo” (the common paste or hasty pudding made of millet, called “fufu” on the western coast), which forms the ordinary food of the natives, was offered for sale; but it must be borne in mind that the people of Ásben care very little about a warm supper, and like nothing better than the fura or ghussub-water, and the corn in its crude state,[16] only a little pounded. To this circumstance the Arabs generally attribute the enormous and disgusting quantity of lice with which the Kél-owí, even the very first men of the country, are covered.

I was greatly disappointed in not being able to procure a fowl for my supper. The breeding of fowls seems to be carried on to a very small extent in this village, although they are in such immense numbers in Damerghú, that a few years ago travellers could buy “a fowl for a needle.”

Tuesday, January 14th.Seeing that we should make some stay here, I had decided upon visiting the town of Tasáwa, which was only a few miles distant to the west, but deferred my visit till the morrow, in order to see the town in the more interesting phase of the “káswa-n-Láraba,” or the Wednesday market. However, our encampment, where I quietly spent the day, was itself changed into a lively and bustling market; and even during the heat of the day the discordant cries of the sellers did not cease.

My intelligent and jovial companion meanwhile gave me some valuable information with regard to the revenue of the wealthy governor of Tasáwa, who in certain respects is an independent prince, though he may be called a powerful vassal of the king or chief of Marádi. Every head of a family in his territory pays him three thousand kurdí, as “kurdí-n-kay” (head-money or poll-tax); besides, there is an ample list of penalties (“kurdí-n-laefi”), some of them very heavy: thus, for example, the fine for having[17] flogged another man, or most probably for having given him a sound cudgelling, is as much as ten thousand kurdí; for illicit paternity, one hundred thousand kurdí—an enormous sum considering the economic condition of the population, and which, I think, plainly proves how rarely such a thing happens in this region; but of course where every man may lawfully take as many wives as he is able to feed, there is little excuse for illicit intercourse. In case of wilful murder, the whole property of the murderer is forfeited, and is of right seized by the governor.

Each village has its own mayor, who decides petty matters, and is responsible for the tax payable within his jurisdiction. The king, or paramount chief, has the power of life and death; and there is no appeal from his sentence to the ruler of Marádi. However, he cannot venture to carry into effect any measure of consequence without asking the opinion of his privy council, or at least that of the ghaladíma or prime minister, some account of whose office I shall have an opportunity of giving in the course of my narrative. The little territory of Tasáwa might constitute a very happy state, if the inhabitants were left in quiet; but they are continually harassed by predatory expeditions, and even last evening, while we were encamped here, the Féllani drove away a small herd of ten calves from the neighbouring village of Kálgo.

About noon the “salt” of the serkí-n-Kél-owí arrived with the people of Olalówa, as well as that of Sálah Lúsu’s head man, who before had always been[18] in advance of us. In the evening I might have fancied myself a prince; for I had a splendid supper, consisting of a fowl or two, while a solitary maimólo cheered me with a performance on his simple three-stringed instrument, which, however monotonous, was still expressive of much feeling, and accompanied with a song in my praise.

Wednesday, January 15th.At the very dawn of day, to my great astonishment, I was called out of the tent by Mohammed, who told me that Fárraji, Lúsu’s man, our companion from Ghát, had suddenly arrived from Zínder with three or four Bórnu horsemen, and had express orders with regard to me. However, when I went out to salute him, he said nothing of his errand, but simply told me that he wanted first to speak to Elaíji, the chief of the caravan. I therefore went to the latter myself to know what was the matter, and learnt from the old man, that though he was not able to make out all the terms of the letters of which Fárraji was the bearer, one of which was written by the sheríf and the other by Lúsu, he yet understood that the horsemen had come with no other purpose but to take me and Overweg to Zínder, without consulting our wishes, and that the sheríf as well as Lúsu had instructed him to send us off in company with these fellows, but that they had also a letter for Ánnur, who ought to be consulted. As for himself, the old man (well aware of the real state of affairs, and that the averment of a letter having arrived from the consul at Tripoli, to the effect that till[19] further measures were taken with regard to our recent losses we ought to stay in Bórnu, was a mere sham and fabrication) declared that he would not force us to do anything against our inclination, but that we ought to decide ourselves what was best to be done.

Having, therefore, a double reason for going to Tasáwa, I set out as early as possible, accompanied by my faithless, wanton Tunisian shushán, and by my faithful, sedate Tageláli overseer. The path leading through the suburbs of Gozenákko was well fenced, in order to prevent any violation of property; but on the western side of the village there was scarcely any cultivated ground, and we soon entered upon a wilderness where the “dúmmia” and the “karása” were the principal plants, when, after a march of a little more than three miles, the wild thicket again gave way to cultivated fields, and the town of Tasáwa appeared in the distance—or rather (as is generally the case in these countries, where the dwellings are so low, and where almost all the trees round the towns are cut down, for stratagetical as well as economical reasons) the fine shady trees in the interior of the town were seen, which make it a very cheerful place. After two miles more we reached the suburbs, and, crossing them, kept along the outer ditch which runs round the stockade of the town, in order to reach Al Wáli’s house, under whose special protection I knew that Mr. Overweg had placed himself.

My friend’s quarters, into which we were shown, were very comfortable, although rather narrow. They[20] consisted of a courtyard, fenced with mats made of reeds, and containing a large shed or “runfá,” likewise built of mats and stalks, and a tolerably spacious hut, the walls built of clay (“bángo”), but with a thatched roof (“shíbki”). The inner part of it was guarded by a cross-wall from the prying of indiscreet eyes.

Overweg was not a little surprised on hearing the recent news; and we sent for El Wákhshi, our Ghadámsi friend from Tin-téggana, in order to consult him, as one who had long resided in these countries, and who, we had reason to hope, would be uninfluenced by personal considerations. He firmly pronounced his opinion that we ought not to go, and afterwards, when Fárráji called Mánzo and Al Wáli to his aid, entered into a violent dispute with these men, who advised us to go; but he went too far in supposing that the letter had been written with a malicious intention. For my part, I could well imagine that the step was authorized by the sheikh of Bórnu, or at least by his vizier, who might have heard long ago of our intention to go to Kanó, as it had been even Mr. Richardson’s intention to go there, which indeed he ought to have done in conformity with his written obligations to Mohammed e’ Sfáksi; they might therefore have instructed the sheríf to do what he might think fit to prevent us from carrying out our purpose. However, it seemed not improbable that Lúsu had something to do with the affair. But it was absolutely necessary for Mr.[21] Overweg and myself, or for one of us at least, to go to Kanó, as we had several debts to pay, and were obliged to sell the little merchandise we had with us, in order to settle our affairs.

We were still considering the question, when we were informed that our old protector the chief Ánnur had just arrived from Zínder; and I immediately determined to go to see him in his own domain at Náchira, situated at a little more than a mile N.E. from Tasáwa. In passing through the town I crossed the market-place, which at that time, during the hot hours of the day, was very well frequented, and presented a busy scene of the highest interest to a traveller emerging from the desert, and to which the faint sparks of life still to be observed in Ágades cannot be compared. A considerable number of cattle were offered for sale, as well as six camels, and the whole market was surrounded by continuous rows of runfás or sheds; but provisions and ready-dressed food formed the staple commodity, and scarcely anything of value was to be seen. On leaving the town I entered an open country covered with stubble-fields, and soon reached that group of Náchira where the chief had fixed his quarters. In front of the yard was a most splendid tamarind-tree, such as I had not yet seen. Leaving my horse in its shade, I entered the yard, accompanied by Gajére, and looked about for some time for the great man, when at length we discovered him under a small shed or runfá of a conical form, so low that we had passed it without noticing[22] the people collected in its shade. There he lay surrounded by his attendants, as was his custom in general when reposing in the day-time, with no clothing but his trowsers, while his shirt, rolled up, formed a pillow to rest his left arm upon. He did not seem to be in the best humour—at least he did not say a single cheerful word to me; and though it was the very hottest time of the day, he did not offer me as much as a draught of water. I had expected to be treated to a bowl of well-soaked “fura” seasoned with cheese. But what astonished me more than his miserly conduct (which was rather familiar to me) was, that I learned from his own mouth that he had not been to Zínder at all, whither we had been assured he had accompanied Mr. Richardson, but that he had spent all the time in Tágelel, from which place he had now come direct. I was therefore the more certain that Lúsu had some part in the intrigues. Ánnur, who had not yet received the letter addressed to him from Zínder, knew nothing about it, and merely expressed his surprise that such a letter had been written, without adding another word.

Seeing the old chief in a very cheerless humour, I soon left him, and took a ramble with Gajére over the place. The estate is very extensive, and consists of a great many clusters of huts scattered over the fields, while isolated dúm-palms give to the whole a peculiar feature. The people, all followers and mostly domestic slaves of Ánnur, seemed to live in[23] tolerable ease and comfort, as far as I was able to see, my companion introducing me into several huts. Indeed every candid person, however opposed to slavery he may be, must acknowledge that the Tawárek in general, and particularly the Kél-owí, treat their slaves not only humanely, but even with the utmost indulgence and affability, and scarcely let them feel their bondage at all. Of course there are exceptions, as the cruelty of yoking slaves to a plough, and driving them on with a whip (which I had witnessed in Aúderas), is scarcely surpassed in any of the Christian slave-states; but these exceptions are extremely rare.

When I returned from my ramble, Mr. Overweg had also arrived, and the old chief had received the letter; and though neither he nor any of his people could read it, he was fully aware of its contents, and disapproved of it entirely, saying that we should act freely, and according to the best of our knowledge. I then returned with my countryman into the town, and remained some time with him. In front of his dwelling was encamped the natron-caravan of Al Wáli, which in a few days was to leave for Núpe or (as the Háusa people say) Nýffi. We shall have to notice very frequently this important commerce, which is carried on between the shores of the Tsád and Nýffi.

I left the town at about five o’clock, and feeling rather hungry on reaching the encampment in Gozenákko, to the great amusement of our neighbours,[24] parodying the usual salute of “iná labári” (what is the news)? I asked my people immediately the news of our cooking-pot, “iná labári-n-tokónia” (what news of the pot)? I was greatly pleased with my day’s excursion; for Tasáwa was the first large place of Negroland proper which I had seen, and it made the most cheerful impression upon me, as manifesting everywhere the unmistakable marks of the comfortable, pleasant sort of life led by the natives:—the courtyard fenced with a “dérne” of tall reeds, excluding to a certain degree the eyes of the passer-by, without securing to the interior absolute secrecy; then near the entrance the cool shady place of the “runfá” for ordinary business and for the reception of strangers, and the “gída,” partly consisting entirely of reed (“dáki-n-kára”) of the best wickerwork, partly built of clay in its lower parts (“bóngo”), while the roof consists of reeds only (“shíbki”)—but of whatever material it may consist, it is warm and well adapted for domestic privacy,—the whole dwelling shaded with spreading trees, and enlivened with groups of children, goats, fowls, pigeons, and, where a little wealth had been accumulated, a horse or a pack-ox.

With this character of the dwellings, that of the inhabitants themselves is in entire harmony, its most constant element being a cheerful temperament, bent upon enjoying life, rather given to women, dance, and song, but without any disgusting excess. Everybody here finds his greatest happiness in a comely lass;[25] and as soon as he makes a little profit, he adds a young wife to his elder companion in life: yet a man has rarely more than two wives at a time. Drinking fermented liquor cannot be strictly reckoned a sin in a place where a great many of the inhabitants are pagans; but a drunken person, nevertheless, is scarcely ever seen: those who are not Mohammedans only indulge in their “gíya,” made of sorghum, just enough to make them merry and enjoy life with more light-heartedness. There was at that time a renegade Jew in the place, called Músa, who made spirits of dates and tamarinds for his own use. Their dress is very simple, consisting, for the man, of a wide shirt and trowsers, mostly of a dark colour, while the head is generally covered with a light cap of cotton cloth, which is negligently worn, in all sorts of fashions. Others wear a rather closely fitting cap of green cloth, called báki-n-záki. Only the wealthier amongst them can afford the “zénne” or shawl, thrown over the shoulder like the plaid of the Highlanders. On their feet the richer class wear very neat sandals, such as we shall describe among the manufactures of Kanó.

As for the women, their dress consists almost entirely of a large cotton cloth, also of dark colour—“the túrkedi,” fastened under or above the breast—the only ornament of the latter in general consisting of some strings of glass beads worn round the neck. The women are tolerably handsome, and have pleasant features; but they are worn out by excessive[26] domestic labour, and their growth never attains full and vigorous proportions. They do not bestow so much care upon their hair as the Féllani, or some of the Bagírmi people.

There are in the town a good many “Búzawe,” or Tawárek half-castes, who distinguish themselves in their dress principally by the “ráwani” or tesílgemíst (the lithám) of white or black colour, which they wind round their head in the same way as the Kél-owí; but their mode of managing the tuft of hair left on the top of the head is not always the same, some wearing their curled hair all over the crown of the head, while others leave only a long tuft, which was the old fashion of the Zenágha. The pagan inhabitants of this district wear, in general, only a leathern apron (“wuélki”); but with the exception of young children, none are seen here quite naked. The town was so busy, and seemed so well inhabited, that on the spot I estimated its population at fifteen thousand; but this estimate is probably too high.

Thursday, January 16th.We still remained near Gozenákko, and I was busy studying Temáshight, after which I once more went over the letter of the sheríf El Fási, Háj Beshír’s agent in Zínder; and having become fully aware of the dictatorial manner in which he had requested Elaíji to forward me and Mr. Overweg to him (just as a piece of merchandise) without asking our consent, I sat down to write him a suitable answer, assuring him that, as I was desirous[27] of paying my respects to the son of Mohammed el Kánemi and his enlightened vizier, I would set out for their residence as soon as I had settled my affairs in Kanó, and that I was sure of attaining my ends without his intervention, as I had not the least desire to visit him.

This letter, as subsequent events proved, grew into importance, for the sheríf being perplexed by its tone, sent it straight on to Kúkawa, where it served to introduce me at once to the sheikh and his vizier. But the difficulty was to send it off with the warlike messengers who had brought the sheríf’s letters, as they would not go without us, and swore that their orders, from the sheríf as well as from Serk’ Ibrám, were so peremptory that they should be utterly disgraced if they returned empty-handed. At length, after a violent dispute with Fárráji and these warlike-looking horsemen, the old chief, who took my part very fairly, finished the matter by plainly stating that if we ourselves, of our own free will, wanted to go, we might do so, but if we did not wish to go, instead of forcing us, he would defend us against anybody who should dare to offer us violence. Nevertheless the messengers would not depart; and it seemed impossible to get rid of them till I made each of them a present of two mithkáls, when they mounted their horses with a very bad grace, and went off with my letter. The energetic and straightforward but penurious old chief left us in the afternoon, and rode to Kálgo, a village at no great distance.

[28]Friday, January 17th.Still another day of halt, in order, as I was told, to allow Háj ʿAbdúwa’s salt-caravan to come up and join us. Being tired of the camp, I once more went into the town to spend my day usefully and pleasantly; leaving all my people behind, I was accompanied by some of my fellow-travellers of the caravan. Arriving at Overweg’s quarters, what was my surprise to find Fárráji not yet gone, but endeavouring to persuade my companion, with all the arts of his barbarous eloquence, that though I should not go, he at least might, in which case he would be amply rewarded with the many fine things which had been prepared in Zínder for our reception. The poor fellow was greatly cast down when he saw me, and soon made off in very bad humour, while I went with Overweg to El Wákhshi, who was just occupied in that most tedious of all commercial transactions in these countries, namely, the counting of shells; for in all these inland countries of Central Africa the cowries or kurdí (Cypræa moneta) are not, as is customary in some regions near the coast, fastened together in strings of one hundred each, but are separate, and must be counted one by one. Even those “tákrufa” (or sacks made of rushes) containing 20,000 kurdí each, as the governors of the towns are in the habit of packing them up, no private individual will receive without counting them out. The general custom in so doing is to count them by fives, in which operation some are very expert, and then, according to the amount of the sum, to form heaps of[29] two hundred (or ten háwiyas[2]) or a thousand each. Having at length succeeded, with the help of some five or six other people, in the really heroic work of counting 500,000 shells, our friend went with us to the sick sultan Mazáwaji: I say sultan, as it is well for a traveller to employ these sounding titles of petty chiefs, which have become naturalized in the country from very ancient times, although it is very likely that foreign governments would be unwilling to acknowledge them. The poor fellow, who was living in a hut built half of mud, half of reeds, was suffering under a dreadful attack of dysentery, and looked like a spectre; fortunately my friend succeeded in bringing on perspiration with some hot tea and a good dose of peppermint, in the absence of stronger medicines. We then went to the house of Amánkay, that useful fellow so often mentioned in the Journal of the late Mr. Richardson, and by myself. He was a “búzu” of this place, and had many relatives here, all living near him. His house was built in the general style; but the interior of the courtyard was screened from profane eyes. Fortunately I had taken with me some small things, such as mirrors, English darning-needles, and some knives, so that I was able to give a small present to each of his kinsmen and relatives, while he treated us with a calabash of fura.

[30]In the afternoon we strolled a long time about the market, which not being so crowded as the day before yesterday, was on that account far more favourable for observation. Here I first saw and tasted the bread made of the fruit of the magariá-tree, and called “túwo-n-magariá,” which I have mentioned before, and was not a little astonished to see whole calabashes filled with roasted locusts (“fará”), which occasionally form a considerable part of the food of the natives, particularly if their grain has been destroyed by this plague, as they can then enjoy not only the agreeable flavour of the dish, but also take a pleasant revenge on the ravagers of their fields. Every open space in the midst of the market-place was occupied by a fire-place (“maidéffa”) on a raised platform, on which diminutive morsels of meat, attached to a small stick, were roasting, or rather stewing, in such a way that the fat, trickling down from the richer pieces attached to the top of the stick, basted the lower ones. These dainty bits were sold for a single shell or “urí”[3] each. I was much pleased at recognizing the red cloth which had been stolen from my bales in the valley of Afís, and which was exposed here for sale. But the most interesting thing in the town was the “máriná” (the dyeing-place) near the wall, consisting of a raised platform of clay with fourteen holes or pits, in which the[31] mixture of indigo is prepared, and the cloths remain for a certain length of time, from one to seven days, according to the colour which they are to attain. It is principally this dyeing, I think, which gives to many parts of Negroland a certain tincture of civilization, a civilization which it would be highly interesting to trace, if it were possible, through all the stages of its development.

While rambling about, Overweg and I for a while were greatly annoyed by a tall fellow, very respectably and most picturesquely dressed, who professed himself to be a messenger from the governor of Kátsena, sent to offer us his compliments and to invite us to go to him. Though the thing was not altogether impossible, it looked rather improbable; and having thanked him profusely for his civility, we at length succeeded in getting rid of him. In the evening I returned to our camping-ground with Ídder the Emgédesi man mentioned in a preceding part of my narrative, and was very glad to receive reliable information that we were to start the following day.

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[32]CHAP. XXIII.

GAZÁWA. — RESIDENCE IN KÁTSENA.

Saturday, January 18th.We made a good start with our camels, which having been treated to a considerable allowance of salt on the first day of our halt, had made the best possible use of these four days’ rest to recruit their strength. At the considerable village of Kálgo, which we passed at a little less than five miles beyond our encampment, the country became rather hilly, but only for a short distance. Tamarinds constituted the greatest ornament of the landscape. A solitary traveller attracted our notice on account of his odd attire, mounted as he was on a bullock with three large pitchers on each side. Four miles beyond Kálgo the character of the country became suddenly changed, and dense groups of dúm-palms covered the ground. But what pleased me more than the sight of these slender forked trees was when, half an hour after mid-day, I recognized my splendid old friend the bóre-tree, of the valley Bóghel[4],[33] which had excited my surprise in so high a degree, and the magnificence of which at its first appearance was not at all eclipsed by this second specimen in the fertile regions of Negroland. Soon afterwards we reached the fáddama of Gazáwa; and leaving the town on our right hidden in the thick forest, we encamped a little further on in an open place, which was soon crowded with hucksters and retailers. I was also pestered with a visit from some half-caste Arabs settled in the town; but fortunately, seeing that they were likely to wait in vain for a present, they went off, and were soon succeeded by a native mʿallem from the town, whose visit was most agreeable to me.

About sunset the “serkí-n-turáwa,” or consul of the Arabs, came to pay his regards to Elaíji, and introduced the subject of a present, which, as he conceived, I ought to make to the governor of the town as a sort of passage-money; my protector, however, would not listen to the proposal, but merely satisfied his visitor’s curiosity by calling me into his presence and introducing him to me. The serkí was very showily and picturesquely dressed—in a green and white striped tobe, wide trowsers of a speckled pattern and colour, like the plumage of the Guinea fowl, with an embroidery of green silk in front of the legs. Over this he wore a gaudy red bernús, while round his red cap a red and white turban was wound crosswise in a very neat and careful manner. His sword was slung over his right shoulder by means of thick hangers[34] of red silk ornamented with enormous tassels. He was mounted on a splendid charger, the head and neck of which was most fancifully ornamented with a profusion of tassels, bells, and little leather pockets containing charms, while from under the saddle a shabrack peeped out, consisting of little triangular patches in all the colours of the rainbow.

This little African dandy received me with a profusion of the finest compliments, pronounced with the most refined and sweet accent of which the Háusa language is capable. When he was gone, my old friend Elaíji informed me that he had prevented the “consul of the Arabs” from exacting a present from me, and begged me to acknowledge his service by a cup of coffee, which of course I granted him with all my heart. Poor old Elaíji! He died in the year 1854, in the forest between Gazáwa and Kátsena, where from the weakness of age he lost his way when left alone. He has left on my memory an image which I shall always recall with pleasure. He was certainly the most honourable and religious man among the Kél-owí.

The market in our encampment, which continued till nightfall, reached its highest pitch at sunset, when the people of the town brought ready-made “túwo,” each dish, with rather a small allowance, selling for three kurdí, or not quite the fourth part of a farthing. I, however, was happy in not being thrown upon this three-kurdí supper; and while I indulged in my own home-made dish, Gajére entertained me with the[35] narrative of a nine days’ siege, which the warlike inhabitants of Gazáwa had sustained, ten years previously, against the whole army of the famous Bello.

Sunday, January 19th.We remained encamped; and my day was most agreeably and usefully spent in gathering information with regard to the regions which I had just entered. There was first Maʿadi, the slave of Ánnur, a native of Bórnu, who when young had been made prisoner by the Búdduma of the lake, and had resided three years among these interesting people, till having fallen into the hands of the Welád Slimán, then in Kánem, he at length, on the occasion of the great expedition of the preceding year, had fallen into the power of the Kél-owí. Although he owed the loss of his liberty to the freebooting islanders, he was nevertheless a great admirer of theirs, and a sincere vindicator of their character. He represented them as a brave and high-spirited people, who made glorious and successful inroads upon the inhabitants of the shores of the lake with surprising celerity, while at home they were a pious and God-fearing race, and knew neither theft nor fraud among themselves. He concluded his eloquent eulogy of this valorous nation of pirates by expressing his fervent hope that they might for ever preserve their independence against the ruler of Bórnu.

I then wrote, from the mouth of Gajére and Yáhia (another of my friends), a list of the places lying round about Gazáwa, as follows:—On the east side, Mádobí,[36] Maíjirgí[5], Kógena na kay-debú, Kórmasa, Kórgom, Kánche (a little independent principality); Gumdá, half a day east of Gazáwa, with numbers of Ásbenáwa; Démbeda, or Dúmbida, at less distance; Shabáli, Babíl, Túrmeni, Gínga, Kandémka, Sabó-n-kefí, Zángoni-n-ákwa, Kúrni, Kurnáwa, Dángudaw. On the west side, where the country is more exposed to the inroads of the Fúlbe or Féllani, there is only one place of importance, called Tindúkku, which name seems to imply a close relation to the Tawárek. All these towns and villages are said to be in a certain degree dependent on Raffa, the “babá” (i.e. great man or chief) of Gazáwa, who, however, himself owes allegiance to the supreme ruler of Marádi.

There was an exciting stir in the encampment at about ten o’clock in the morning, illustrative of the restless struggle going on in these regions. A troop of about forty horsemen, mostly well mounted, led on by the serkí-n-Gumdá, and followed by a body of tall slender archers, quite naked but for their leathern aprons, passed through the different rows of the aïri, on their way to join the expedition which the prince of Marádi was preparing against the Féllani.

About noon the natron-caravan of Háj Al Wáli, which I had seen in Tasáwa, came marching up in[37] solemn order, led on by two drums, and affording a pleasant specimen of the character of the Háusa people. Afterwards I went into the town, which was distant from my tent about half a mile. Being much exposed to attacks from the Mohammedans, as the southernmost pagan place belonging to the Marádi-Góber union, Gazáwa has no open suburbs outside its strong stockade, which is surrounded by a deep ditch. It forms almost a regular quadrangle, having a gate on each side built of clay, which gives to the whole fortification a more regular character, besides the greater strength which the place derives from this precaution. Each gateway is twelve feet deep, and furnished on its top with a rampart sufficiently capacious for about a dozen archers. The interior of the town is almost of the same character as Tasáwa; but Gazáwa is rather more closely built, though I doubt whether its circumference exceeds that of the former place. The market is held every day, but, as might be supposed, is far inferior to that of Tasáwa, which is a sort of little entrepôt for the merchants coming from the north, and affords much more security than Gazáwa, which, though an important place with regard to the struggle carried on between Paganism and Islamism in these quarters, is not so with respect to commerce. The principal things offered for sale were cattle, meat, vegetables of different kinds, and earthenware pots. Gazáwa has also a máriná or dyeing-place, but of less extent than that of Tasáwa, as most of its inhabitants are[38] pagans, and wear no clothing but the leathern apron. Their character appeared to me to be far more grave than that of the inhabitants of Tasáwa; and this is a natural consequence of the precarious position in which they are placed, as well as of their more warlike disposition. The whole population is certainly not less than ten thousand.

Having visited the market, I went to the house of the mʿallem, where I found several Ásbenáwa belonging to our caravan enjoying themselves in a very simple manner, eating the fruits of the kaña, which are a little larger than cherries, but not so soft and succulent. The mʿallem, as I had an opportunity of learning on this occasion, is a protégé of Elaíji, to whom the house belongs. Returning with my companions to our encampment, I witnessed a very interesting sort of dance, or rather gymnastic play, performed on a large scale by the Kél-owí, who being arranged in long rows, in pairs, and keeping up a regular motion, pushed along several of their number under their arms—not very unlike some of our old dances.

Monday, January 20th.Starting early in the morning, we felt the cold very sensibly, the thermometer standing at 48° Fahr. a little before sunset. Cultivated fields interrupted from time to time the underwood for the first three miles, while the “ngílle,” or “kába,” formed the most characteristic feature of the landscape; but dúm-palms, at first very rarely seen, soon became prevalent, and continued[39] for the next two miles. Then the country became more open, while in the distance to the left extended a low range of hills. New species of trees appeared, which I had not seen before, as the “kókia,” a tree with large leaves of a dark-green colour, with a green fruit of the size of an apple, but not eatable. The first solitary specimens of the gigiña or deléb-palm, which is one of the most characteristic trees of the more southern regions, were also met with.

Moving silently along, about noon we met a considerable caravan, with a great number of oxen and asses led by two horsemen, and protected in the rear by a strong guard of archers; for this is one of the most dangerous routes in all Central Africa, where every year a great many parties are plundered by marauders, no one being responsible for the security of this disputed territory. We had here a thick forest on our left enlivened by numbers of birds; then about two o’clock in the afternoon we entered a fine undulating country covered with a profusion of herbage, while the large gámshi-tree, with its broad fleshy leaves of the finest green, formed the most remarkable object of the vegetable kingdom. All this country was once a bustling scene of life, with numbers of towns and villages, till, at the very commencement of this century, the “Jihádi,” or Reformer, rose among the Fúlbe of Góber, and, inflaming them with fanatic zeal, urged them on to merciless warfare against pagans as well as Mohammedans.

It was here that my companions drew my attention[40] to the tracks of the elephant, of whose existence in the more northern regions we had not hitherto seen the slightest trace—so that this seems to be the limit of its haunts on this side; and it was shortly afterwards that Gajére descried in the distance a living specimen making slowly off to the east; but my sight was not strong enough to distinguish it. Thus we entered the thicker part of the forest, and about half-past four in the afternoon reached the site of the large town of Dánkama, whither Mágajin Háddedu, the king of Kátsena, had retired after his residence had been taken by the Fúlbe, and from whence he waged unrelenting but unsuccessful war against the bloody-minded enemies of the religious as well as political independence of his country. Once, indeed, the Fúlbe were driven out of Kátsena; but they soon returned with renewed zeal and with a fresh army, and the Háusa prince was expelled from his ancient capital for ever. After several battles Dánkama, whither all the nobility and wealth of Kátsena had retired, was taken, ransacked, and burnt.

A solitary colossal kúka[6] (baobab), representing in its huge, leafless, and gloomy frame the sad recollections connected with the spot, shoots out from the prickly underwood which thickly overgrows the locality[7],[41] and points out the market-place once teeming with life. It was a most affecting moment; for, as if afraid of the evil spirits dwelling in this wild and deserted spot, all the people of the caravan, while we were thronging along the narrow paths opening between the thick prickly underwood, shouted with wild cries, cursing and execrating the Féllani, the authors of so much mischief, all the drums were beating, and every one pushed on in order to get out of this melancholy neighbourhood as soon as possible.

Having passed a little after sunset a large granitic mass projecting from the ground, called Korremátse, and once a place of worship, we saw in the distance in front the fires of those parties of the aïri which had preceded us; and greeting them with a wild cry, we encamped on the uneven ground in great disorder, as it had become quite dark. After a long march I felt very glad when the tent was at length pitched. While the fire was lighted, and the supper preparing, Gajére informed me that, besides Dánkama, Bello destroyed also the towns of Jankúki and Madáwa in this district, which now presents such a frightful wilderness.[8]

[42]In the course of the night, the roar of a lion was heard close by our encampment.

Tuesday, January 21st.We started, with general enthusiasm, at an early hour; and the people of our troop seeing the fires of the other divisions of the salt-caravan in front of us still burning, jeered at their laziness, till at length, on approaching within a short distance of the fires, we found that the other people had set out long before, leaving their fires burning. A poor woman, carrying a load on her head, and leading a pair of goats, had attached herself to our party in Gazáwa; and though she had lost her goats in the bustle of the previous afternoon, she continued her journey cheerfully and with resignation.

After five hours’ march the whole caravan was suddenly brought to a stand for some time, the cause of which was a ditch of considerable magnitude, dug right across the path, and leaving only a narrow passage, the beginning of a small path which wound along through thick thorny underwood. This, together with the ditch, formed a sort of outer defence for the cultivated fields and the pasture-grounds of Kátsena, against any sudden inroad. Having passed[43] another projecting mass of granite rock, we passed two small villages on our left, called Túlla and Takumáku, from whence the inhabitants came out to salute us. We encamped at length in a large stubble-field, beyond some kitchen-gardens, where pumpkins (dúmma) were planted, two miles N.E. from the town of Kátsena. While we were pitching my tent, which was the only one in the whole encampment, the sultan or governor of Kátsena came out with a numerous retinue of horsemen, all well-dressed and mounted; and having learnt from Elaíji that I was a Christian traveller belonging to a mission (a fact, however, which he knew long before), he sent me soon afterwards a ram and two large calabashes or dúmmas filled with honey—an honour which was rather disagreeable to me than otherwise, as it placed me under the necessity of making the governor a considerable present in return. I had no article of value with me; and I began to feel some unpleasant foreboding of future difficulties.

An approximative estimate of the entire number of the salt-caravan, as affording the means of accurately determining the amount of a great national commerce carried on between widely-separated countries, had much occupied my attention, and having in vain tried on the road to arrive at such an estimate, I did all I could to-day to obtain a list of the different divisions composing it; but although Yáhia, one of the principal of Ánnur’s people, assured me that there were more than thirty troops, I was not[44] able to obtain particulars of more than the following: viz., encamped on this same ground with us was the salt-caravan of Ánnur, of Elaíji, of Hámma with the Kél-táfidet, of Sálah, of Háj Makhmúd with the Kél-tagrímmat, of Ámaki with the Amákita, of the Imasághlar (led by Mohammed dan Ággeg), of the Kél-azanéres, of the Kél-ínger (the people of Zingína), of the Kél-ágwau, and finally that of the Kél-chémia. No doubt none of these divisions had more than two hundred camels laden with salt, exclusive of the young and the spare camels; the whole of the salt, therefore, collected here at the time was at the utmost worth one hundred millions of kurdí, or about eight thousand pounds sterling. Beside the divisions of the aïri which I have just enumerated as encamped on this spot, the Erázar were still behind, while the following divisions had gone on in advance: the Kél-n-Néggaru; the Iseráraran, with the chief Bárka and the támberi (war chieftain) Nasóma; and the Ikázkezan, with the chiefs Mohammed Irólagh and Wuentúsa.

We may therefore not be far from the truth if we estimate the whole number of the salt-caravan of the Kél-owí, of this year, at two thousand five hundred camels. To this must be added the salt which had gone to Zínder, and which I estimate at about a thousand camel-loads, and that which had been left in Tasáwa for the supply of the markets of the country as far as Góber, which I estimate at from two hundred to three hundred camel-loads. But it must be[45] borne in mind that the country of Ásben had been for some time in a more than ordinarily turbulent state, and that consequently the caravan was at this juncture probably less numerous than it would be in quiet times.

Being rather uneasy with regard to the intention of the governor of the province, I went early the next morning to Elaíji, and assured him that, besides some small things, such as razors, cloves, and frankincense, I possessed only two red caps to give to the governor, and that I could not afford to contract more debts by buying a bernús. The good old man was himself aware of the governor’s intention, who, he told me, had made up his mind to get a large present from me, otherwise he would not allow me to continue my journey. I wanted to visit the town, but was prevented from doing so under these circumstances, and therefore remained in the encampment.

The governor, who spends a great deal of his time in a country-house which he has recently built outside the town, about noon held a sort of review of several hundred horsemen, whose horses, in general, were in excellent condition. They were armed with a straight sword hanging on the left, a long heavy spear for thrusting, and a shield, either of the same description as that of the Tawárek, of oblong shape, made of the hide of the large antelope (Leucoryx), or else of bullock’s or elephant’s hide, and forming an immense circular disk of about five feet in diameter; some of them wore also the dagger at the[46] left arm, while I counted not more than four or five muskets. Their dress was picturesque, and not too flowing for warlike purposes, the large shirt, or shirts (for they generally wear two), being fastened round the breast with an Egyptian shawl with a red border; and even those who were dressed in a bernús had it wound round their breast. Most of them wore black “ráwani,” or shawls, round their faces, a custom which the Féllani of Háusa have adopted from the Tawárek merely on account of its looking warlike; for they have no superstitious reason for covering the mouth. The harness of the horses was all of Háusa manufacture, the saddles very different from those of the Tawárek (which seem to be identical with the old Arab saddles). The stirrups formed a very peculiar kind of medium between the large unwieldy stirrups of the modern Arab and the small ones of the Tawárek and Europeans, the sole of the stirrup being long, but turned down at both ends, while it is so narrow that the rider can only thrust the naked foot into it. I could not understand the principle upon which this kind of stirrup is made. It appeared to me a most absurd specimen of workmanship.

The Féllani in Kátsena have good reason to be on their guard against the Kél-owí, who, in an underhand way, are always assisting the independent Háusa states of Góber and Marádi in their struggle, and might some day easily make common cause with them to drive out these arrogant intruders from the[47] conquered provinces. In fact they have done all in their power to attain this object; and Ánnur’s policy is so well known to the Féllani, that once when he came to Kátsena he received most shameful treatment at their hands. Afterwards I was visited by El Wákhshi, and paid him in return a visit at that part of the encampment where some of his merchandise was deposited, for he himself was living in the town. Here he introduced to me a person who was very soon to become one of my direst tormentors, the bare remembrance of whom is even now unpleasant; it was the háj Bel-Ghét, a man born in Tawát, but who had long been settled in Kátsena, and though not with the title, yet in reality holding the office of “a serkí-n-turáwa.”

A troop of eight mounted royal musicians (“masukídda-n-serkí”), who had been playing the whole day before the several divisions of the “aïri,” came likewise to my tent in the course of the afternoon, and gratified my ears with a performance on their various instruments. There was the drum, or “ganga”, very much like our own instrument of that kind, and of about the same size as the common regimental drum; the long wind instrument, or “pampámme;” a shorter one, a sort of flute, or “elgaita[9];” a sort of double tambourine, or “kalángo;” a simple tympanum, or[48] “kóso;” a sort of double Egyptian darabúka, called “jójo,” and a small horn, or “kafó.” The most common among them is the “jójo,” which in Háusa is the chief instrument made use of in an expedition, and, if accompanied by the voice, is not disagreeable. With these various instruments the well-mounted horsemen made a pretty good noise; but it was neither harmonious nor characteristic—to all this pompous imitative music I prefer a few strains with natural feeling by a solitary maimólo. I was obliged to reward my entertainers with a large quantity of cloves, as I had scarcely anything else left.

I was rather astonished to hear that the Ásbenáwa do not pay passage-money to the governor according to the number of their camels, but that every freeman among them makes him a present of one kántu of salt. For every beast of burden, be it pack-ox or donkey, five hundred kurdí are generally paid.

Thursday, January 23rd.Having assorted such a present as I could afford, I protested once more to Elaíji that, my other luggage having gone on in advance to Kanó, I had but very little to offer the governor.

I went about noon with my protector and a great number of Ásbenáwa to offer the governor my compliments and my present. Sitting down under a tree at a considerable distance from the spot where he himself was seated, we waited a little, till we should be called into his presence, when his brother, who held the office of ghaladíma, came to us—a man[49] of immense corpulency, resembling a eunuch. Indeed nothing but the cut of his face, his aquiline nose, and rather light colour, and the little goatlike beard which ornamented his chin, could expose him to the suspicion of being a Púllo or Ba-Féllanchi.[10] He wanted to treat my business apart from that of Elaíji, who, however, declared that he had come only for my sake. While the fat ghaladíma was returning to inform his brother of what he had heard, a troop of well-mounted Kél-esárar[11] (who, as I was told, are settled at present in the province of Kátsena) came up at full speed. It was not long before a servant came from the serkí, inviting me alone into his presence.

Mohammed Béllo Yeríma, the eldest son of the former well-known governor Mʿallem Ghomáro[12] was seated under a wide-spreading and luxuriant tamarind-tree, dressed simply in a large white shirt with a black ráwani round his face. The Ásbenáwa, who formed a large semicircle around him, were dressed most gaudily. Stepping into the opening of the semicircle, I saluted the governor, telling him that as I and my companions had lost, on the border of Ásben, almost all the valuable property we had brought[50] with us, and as the few things left to me had gone on to Kanó, he ought to excuse me for being unable at the present moment to offer him a present worthy of his high position, that it was my desire to go on without delay to Kanó, in order to settle my affairs, and to proceed to Bórnu, where we expected to receive fresh supplies, after which one of our party certainly would go to Sókoto, in order to pay our respects to the Emír el Múmenín. The governor answered my address with much apparent kindness, telling me that I was now in his “imána,” or under his protection, and that he had no other purpose but to do what would be conducive to my advantage. He then asked the news of my companions, though he knew all about them, and did not appear to take the least offence at Mr. Overweg’s going to Marádi, although the people and the ruler of that place were his most inveterate enemies. But things must not be looked upon here as they would be in Europe; for here people are accustomed to see strangers from the north pay visits to all sorts of princes, whatever may be their policy. However, while he spoke in rather friendly terms to me, and while my presents were received thankfully by the servants, he declared to the people who were sitting near him, that as the ruler of Bórnu had laid hold of one of my companions, and that of Marádi of the other, he should be a fool if he were to let me pass out of his hands. I therefore took leave of him with no very light heart.

My present consisted of two fine red caps, a piece[51] of printed calico which I had bought in Múrzuk for four Spanish dollars, but which was of a pattern not much liked in Sudán, an English razor and scissors, one pound of cloves, another of frankincense, a piece of fine soap, and a packet of English needles. Though it certainly was not a very brilliant present, yet, considering that I did not want anything from him, it was quite enough; but the fact was, that he wanted something more from me, and therefore it was not sufficient.

Early the following morning, while it was still dark, a servant of the governor came with Elaíji to my tent, requesting me to stay voluntarily behind the caravan. Though this would have been the best plan, had I known that the governor had set his heart upon keeping me back, yet I could not well assent to it, as I had nothing at all with me, not even sufficient to keep me and my people for a short time from starving. I therefore told them that it was impossible for me to stay behind, and prepared to go on with the caravan which was setting out. This, however, Elaíji would not allow me to do, but while all the divisions of the aïri started one after the other, he himself remained behind with several of the principal men of the caravan, till Háj Bel-Ghét came and announced that it was necessary for me to go to the town, there to await the decision of the governor. Seeing that nothing was to be done but to obey, and having in vain shown my letter of recommendation from the sultan of Ágades, from which, as I had feared from[52] the beginning, nothing was inferred but that I had been directly forwarded by him to the governor of Kátsena in order to see me safe to Sókoto, I took leave of Elaíji, thanking him and his friends for their trouble, and followed Bel-Ghét and his companion Músa into the town.

The immense mass of the wall, measuring in its lower part not less than thirty feet, and its wide circumference, made a deep impression upon me. The town (if town it may be called) presented a most cheerful rural scene, with its detached light cottages, and its stubble-fields shaded with a variety of fine trees; but I suspect that this ground was not entirely covered with dwellings even during the most glorious period of Kátsena. We travelled a mile and a half before we reached the “zínsere,” a small dwelling used by the governor as a place of audience—on account, as it seems, of a splendid wide-spreading fig-tree growing close to it, and forming a thick shady canopy sufficient for a large number of people.

I, however, was conducted to the other side of the building, where a quadrangular chamber projects from the half-decayed wall, and had there to wait a long time, till the governor came into town from his new country-seat. Having at last arrived, he called me, and, thanking me for remaining with him, he promised that I should be well treated as his guest, and that without delay a house should be placed at my disposal. He was a man of middle age, and had much in his manners and features which made him[53] resemble an actor; and such he really is, and was still more so in his younger days.

Taking leave of him for the present, I followed Bel-Ghét to my quarters; but we had still a good march to make, first through detached dwellings of clay, then leaving the immense palace of the governor on our left, and entering what may be strictly called the town, with connected dwellings. Here I was lodged in a small house opposite the spacious dwelling of Bel-Ghét; and though on first entering I found it almost insupportable, I soon succeeded in making myself tolerably comfortable in a clean room neatly arranged. It seemed to have once formed the snug seat for a well-furnished harím; at least the dark passages leading to the interior could not be penetrated by a stranger’s eye. We had scarcely taken possession of our quarters, when the governor sent me a ram and two ox-loads of corn—one of “dáwa” and the other of “géro.” But instead of feeling satisfied with this abundant provision, we were quite horrified at it, as I with my three people might have subsisted a whole year on the corn sent us; and we began to have uneasy forebodings of a long detention. Indeed we suspected, and were confirmed in our suspicion by the statements of several people, that it was the governor’s real intention to forward me directly to Sókoto, a circumstance which alienated from me my servants—even the faithful Mohammed el Gatróni, who was much afraid of going there.

[54]However, my new protector, Bel-Ghét, did not leave me much time for reflection, but soon came back to take me again to the governor. Having sat awhile in the cool shade of the tree, we were called into his audience-room, which was nothing more than the round hut or dérne (“zaure” in Kanúri) which generally forms the entrance and passage-room in every Púllo establishment. Besides myself, the háj Bel-Ghét, and his constant companion Músa, there was also the wealthy merchant Háj Wáli, whom I had seen in Tasáwa, when he tried to persuade me to follow the men sent to take me to Zínder, while he now sought to represent the governor of Kátsena as the greatest man in all Negroland, and the best friend I could have. The governor soon began to display his talent as an actor, and had the unfortunate letter from the sultan of Ágades read, interpreted, and commented upon. According to the sagacious interpretation of these men, the purport of the letter was to recommend me expressly to this governor as a fit person to be detained in his company. All my representations to the effect that my friend ʿAbd el Káder had recommended me in exactly the same terms to the governors of Dáura and Kanó, and that I had forwarded a letter from Ágades to the Emír el Múmenín in Sókoto, informing him that as soon as we had received new supplies from the coast, one of us at least would certainly pay him a visit, which under present circumstances, robbed and destitute as we were, we could not well do, were all in vain; he[55] had an answer for every objection, and was impudent enough to tell me that a message had been received from Marádi, soliciting me to go thither; that as Bórnu had laid hold of one of my companions, and Marádi of the other, so he would lay hold of me, but of course only in order to become my benefactor (“se al khére”). Seeing that reply was useless, and that it was much better to let this lively humourist go through his performance, and to wait patiently for the end of the comedy, I took leave of him, and returned to my quarters.

Late in the evening the governor sent for Mohammed, who could scarcely be expected, with his fiery and inconsiderate behaviour, to improve the state of things; and as the governor’s dwelling was a good way off, and the town ill-frequented, I was obliged to allow him to go armed with a pair of pistols, which soon attracted the attention of our host, who complained bitterly that while all the petty chiefs had received from us such splendid presents, he, the greatest man in Negroland, had got nothing. Mohammed having told him that the pistols belonged to me, he wanted me to present them to him; but this I obstinately refused, as I was convinced that the whole success of our further proceedings depended on our fire-arms.

I was rather glad when El Wákhshi called upon me the following morning, as I trusted he might help me out of the scrape. After conversing with him about my situation, I went out with him to stroll[56] about the town. We had gone, however, but a little way when Bel-Ghét saw us, and reprimanded me severely for going out without asking his permission. Growing rather warm at such humiliating treatment, I told him, in very plain terms, that as long as the governor refrained from posting soldiers before my door, I would regard myself as a free man, and at liberty to go where I chose. Seeing that he could not wreak his anger directly upon me, he tried to do it indirectly, by reprimanding my companion for going about with this “káfer,” and confirming the “káfer” in his refractoriness against the will of the sultan. Not feeling much honoured with the title thus bestowed on me, I told him that as yet nobody in the whole town had insulted me with that epithet, but that he alone had the insolence to apply it. When the miserable fellow saw me irritated, he did not hesitate to declare that though well versed in the Kurán, he had been entirely unaware of the meaning of “káfer,” and begged me to give him full information about the relations of the English to the various Mohammedan states. When I came to speak about Morocco, he interrupted me, as, being a native of Gurára, he might be presumed to know the relations of those countries better than I did; and he insisted that the English were not on good terms with the emperor of Morocco, and were not allowed to visit Fás (Fez). I then declared to him that there could scarcely be a more unmistakeable proof of the friendly relations existing between the English and Mulʿa ʿAbd e’ Rahmán than the present[57] of four magnificent horses, which the latter had lately sent to the Queen of England. He then confessed that he was more of an antiquarian, and ignorant of the present state of matters; but he was quite sure that during the time of Mulʿa Ismʿaíl it certainly was as he had stated. To this I replied, that while all the Mohammedan states, including Morocco, had since that time declined in power, the Christians, and the English in particular, had made immense steps in advance. We then shook hands, and I left the poor Moslim to his own reflections.

Proceeding with El Wákhshi on our intended promenade, and laughing at the scrape into which he had almost got by changing (in the dispute with Bel-Ghét) the honorary title of the latter, “Sultán ben e’ Sultán” (Sultan son of Sultan), into that of “Shitán ben e’ Shitán” (Satan son of Satan), we went to the house of a Ghadámsi, where we found several Arab and native merchants collected together, and among them a Ghadámsi who bore the same name as that which, for more friendly intercourse with the natives, I had adopted on these journeys, namely, that of ʿAbd el Kerím. This man had accompanied ʿAbd Allah (Clapperton) on his second journey from Kanó to Sókoto, and was well acquainted with all the circumstances attending his death. He was greatly surprised to hear that “Ríshar” (Richard Lander), whom he had believed to be a younger brother of Clapperton, had not only successfully reached the coast, after his circuitous journey to Danróro, and after having been[58] dragged back by force from his enterprising march upon Fanda, but had twice returned from England to those quarters before he fell a victim to his arduous exertions.

I then returned with my old Ghadámsi friend to my lodgings, when Bel-Ghét came soon after us, and once more begged my pardon for having called me “káfer.”

Afterwards El Wákhshi brought me a loaf of sugar, that I might make a present of it to Bel-Ghét. On this occasion he cast his eyes on a small telescope which I had bought in Paris for six francs, and begged me to give it to him for the loaf of sugar which he had just lent me. I complied with his wish. Taking the loaf of sugar with me, and the two other letters of the sultan of Ágades, as well that addressed to the governor of Dáura, as that to the governor of Kanó, I went to Bel-Ghét, and presenting him with the sugar as a small token of my acknowledgment for the trouble he was taking in my behalf; I showed him the letters as a proof that the sultan of Ágades never intended to forward me to his friend the governor of Kátsena as a sort of “abenchí,” or a titbit for himself, but that he acknowledged entirely my liberty of action, and really wished to obtain protection for me wherever I might choose to go. Bel-Ghét being touched by the compliments I paid him, affected to understand now for the first time the real circumstances of my case, and promised to lend me his assistance if I would bind myself to return to[59] Kátsena from Bórnu, after having received sufficient supplies from the coast. This I did to a certain degree, under the condition that circumstances should not prove unfavourable to such a proceeding; indeed I doubted at that time very much whether I should be able to return this way again. But when I did re-visit Kátsena in the beginning of 1853, with a considerable supply of presents, and met before the gates of the town this same man, who had been sent to compliment me on the part of the same governor, it was a triumph which I could scarcely have expected. The old man was on the latter occasion almost beside himself with joy, and fell upon my neck exclaiming, over and over again, “ʿAbd el Kerím! ʿAbd el Kerím!” while I told him, “Here I am, although both my companions have died; I am come to fulfil my promise. I am on my way to Sókoto, with valuable presents for the Emír el Múmenín.”

Leaving Bel-Ghét in better humour, I went with El Wákhshi to his house, where he treated me and two Ásbenáwa with a dish of roasted fowl and dates, after which I proceeded with him through the decayed and deserted quarter where the rich Ghadámsíye merchants once lived, and through some other streets in a rather better state, to the market-place, which forms a large regular quadrangle, with several rows of sheds, or runfá, of the same style as those in Tasáwa, but much better and more regularly built. Of course there was here a better supply of native[60] cotton-cloth, and of small Nuremberg wares, in the market than in the former place; but otherwise there was nothing particular, and altogether it was dull, showing the state of decay into which this once splendid and busy emporium of Negroland has fallen.

The most interesting thing I observed in the market were limes, of tolerably large size, and extremely cheap, and the beautiful large fruit of the gonda (Carica Papaya), which had just begun to ripen; however, the latter was rather dear, considering the low price of provisions in general, a fine papaw being sold for from twenty-five to thirty kurdí, a sum which may keep a poor man from starvation for five days. In Kanó I afterwards saw this fruit cut into thin slices, which were sold for one “urí” (shell) each. Having sat for a long time with El Wákhshi in a runfá, without being exposed to any insult whatever, though I was necessarily an object of some curiosity, I returned home and passed the evening quietly with my people, Gajére giving me reason all the time for the utmost satisfaction with his faithful and steadfast behaviour. Besides being sincerely attached to me, he was persuaded that he possessed influence enough to get me out of my scrape; and thus he informed me, as a great secret, that he had forwarded a message to Ánnur, giving him full information of my case, and that in consequence I might give myself no further trouble, but rely entirely upon that chief’s assistance. While he[61] was thus cheering my spirits in the evening, as we lay round the fire in our courtyard, he frequently repeated the words, “Kasó mutúm dondádi uyátaso, kádda kakíshi da kúmmia,” contrasting his own faithfulness with the faithless, frivolous behaviour of Mohammed el Túnsi, whom he called “mógo mutúm” (a bad sort of fellow). But Gajére also had his own reasons for not being so very angry at our delay, as the lean mare which I had hired of him had a sore back, and was in a rather weak state, so that a little rest and a full measure of corn every day was not so much amiss for her.

El Wákhshi returned the same evening, giving me hope that I might get off the next day. However, this proved to be empty talk; for the following day my business with the pompous Béllo made no progress, he demanding nothing less from me than one hundred thousand kurdí or cowries—a sum certainly small according to European modes of thinking, barely exceeding 8l., but which I was quite unable to raise at the time. Béllo was mean enough to found his claims upon his noble but quite uncalled-for hospitality, having given me, as he said, two rams, two vessels of honey, and two loads of corn, altogether worth from eleven to twelve thousand cowries; and I now felt myself fully justified in changing his noble title “Sultán ben Sultán” into that of “dellál ben dellál” (broker, son of a broker). Even my old friend El Wákhshi took the occasion of this new difficulty of mine to give vent to his feelings as a[62] merchant, saying that this was the “dʿawa” (the curse) attending our (the English) proceedings against the slave-trade. And it must be confessed that the merchants of Ghadámes have suffered a great deal from the abolition of the slave-trade in Tunis[13], without being compensated for this loss by the extension or increased security of legitimate commerce. Seeing that the slave-trade is still carried on in Núpe or Nýffi, where, they are persuaded, the English could prevent it if they would, and that it is there carried on not by Mohammedans but by Christians, they have plausible grounds for being angry with the English nation.

I had a highly interesting discussion with my old fanatical friend Bel-Ghét. It seems that after I had protested against his calling me “káfer” the other day, he had held a consultation on the subject with some people of his own faith; and his zeal being thus revived, he returned to day to urge the point. He began with questioning me about the different nations that professed Christianity, and which among them were the “kofár;” for some of them, he was quite sure, were, and deserved to be, so called. I replied that the application of the word depended on the meaning attached to it, and that if he understood by the word káfer anybody who doubted of the mission of Mohammed, of course a great many Christians were kofár, but if, with more reason, he called by this[63] name only those who had no idea of the unity of God, and venerated other objects besides the Almighty God, that it could then be applied only to a few Christians particularly to those of the Greek, and to the less enlightened of the Catholic Church, though even these venerated the crucifix and the images rather as symbols than as idols. But I confessed to him that, with regard to the unity of the Divine Being, Islám certainly was somewhat purer than the creeds of most of the Christian sects; and I acknowledged that, just at the time when Mohammed appeared, Christianity had sunk considerably below the level of its pristine purity. The old man went away pleased with what I had told him, and swore that he would not again call the English kofár, but that with my permission he would still apply that name to the “Mósko” (the Russians).

In the afternoon his son, a man of about five and thirty, came to visit me, accompanied by a sheríf from Yeman, who had been to Bombay, and was well acquainted with the English; he was now on his way to Timbúktu, in order to vindicate his right of inheritance to the property of a wealthy merchant who had died there. In this, however, he was unsuccessful; and when I reached Timbúktu in September, 1853, he had left it some time previously with broken spirits and in great distress. He perished on his way home. He was an amiable and intelligent man, and visited me several times. From him and his companion I received intimation of a large[64] “Christian book,” bound in leather, with edges and lock made of metal, in the possession of a Púllo or Ba-Féllanchi in the town; but no one could tell me whether it was manuscript or print, and although I offered to pay for a sight of it, I never succeeded in my object. It might be one of those heavy books which Clapperton, when dying, told Lander rather to leave behind than take with him to England.

Tuesday, January 28th.I at length succeeded in arranging matters with the governor. Early in the morning I sent Mohammed to El Wákhshi in order to try and settle the business, telling him that I was ready to make any possible sacrifice; and he sent me a bernús for fifty-two thousand kurdí. While I was hesitating about contracting a new debt of such magnitude (in my poor circumstances), Bel-Ghét, who evidently feared that if I gave one large present to the governor, he himself would get nothing, intimated to me that it would be better to choose several small articles. El Wákhshi therefore procured a caftan of very common velvet, a carpet, a sedríye or close waistcoat, and a shawl, which altogether did not exceed the price of thirty-one thousand kurdí, so that I saved more than twenty thousand. In order, however, to give to the whole a more unpremeditated, honorary, and professional appearance, I added to it a pencil, a little frankincense, and two strong doses of Epsom salts.

While Bel-Ghét was engaged in negotiating peace for me with the eccentric governor, I went with El[65] Wákhshi and Gajére to the market, and thence proceeded with the latter, who, stout and portly, strode before me with his heavy spear, like a stately bodyguard or “kavás,” to the house of Mánzo, an agent of Masáwaji, who always lives here, and paid him our compliments. Passing then by the house of the sultan of Ágades (“gída-n-serkí-n-Ágades”), who occasionally resides here, we went to the “kófan Gúga” (the north-western gate of the town), which my companion represented to me as belonging entirely to the Ásbenáwa; for as long as Kátsena formed the great emporium of this part of Africa, the Aïri used to encamp in the plain outside this gate. The wall is here very strong and high, at least from without, where the height is certainly not less than from five and thirty to forty feet, while in the interior the rubbish and earth has accumulated against it to such a degree that a man may very easily look over it; the consequence is, that during the rains a strong torrent formed here rushes out of the gate. On the outside there is also a deep broad ditch. We returned to our lodging by way of the “máriná” and the market, both of which places were already sunk in the repose and silence of night.

I had scarcely re-entered my dark quarters, when Bel-Ghét arrived, telling me that the governor did not want my property at all; however, to do honour to my present, he would condescend to keep the caftan and the carpet, but he sent me back the sedríye and the shawl—of course to be given as a present to his[66] agent and commissioner, my noble friend from Gurára. The governor, however, was anxious to obtain some more medicines from me. He at the same time promised to make me a present of a horse. Although I had but a small store of medicines with me, I chose a few powders of quinine, of tartar-emetic, and of acetate of lead, and gave him a small bottle with a few drops of laudanum, while it was arranged that the following morning I should explain to the governor himself the proper use of these medicines.

The next morning, therefore, I proceeded with Bel-Ghét, to whose swollen eye I had successfully applied a lotion, and whose greediness I had satisfied with another small present, on the way to the “zínsere.” He wished to show me the interior of the immense palace or the “fáda;” but he could not obtain access to it, and I did not see it till on my second visit to Kátsena.

Béllo received me in his private apartment, and detained me for full two hours while I gave him complete information about the use of the medicines. He wanted, besides, two things from me, which I could not favour him with,—things of very different character, and the most desired by all the princes of Negroland. One of these was a “mágani-n-algúwa” (a medicine to increase his conjugal vigour); the other, some rockets, as a “mágani-n-yáki” (a medicine of war), in order to frighten his enemies.

Not being able to comply with these two modest wishes of his, I had great difficulty in convincing him[67] of my good will; and he remained incredulous to my protestations that we had intentionally not taken such things as rockets with us, as we were afraid that if we gave such a thing to one prince, his neighbour might become fiercely hostile to us. But he remarked that he would keep such a gift a secret. I was very glad he did not say a word more about the pistols; but in order to give me a proof that he knew how to value fine things, he showed me the scissors and razor which I had given him the other day, for which he had got a sheath made, and wore them constantly at his left side. He then told me he would make me a present of an “abi-n-háwa” (something to mount upon), intimating already by this expression that it would not be a first-rate horse, as I had not complied with his heart’s desire, but that it would be furnished with saddle and harness, and that besides he would send me a large “hákkori-n-gíwa” (an elephant’s tooth) to Kanó. This latter offer I declined, saying that, though my means were very small at present, I did not like to turn merchant. He reminded me then of my promise to return; and we parted the best of friends. Notwithstanding the injustice of every kind which he daily commits, he has some sentiment of honour; and feeling rather ashamed for having given me so much trouble for nothing, as he was aware that it would become known to all his fellow-governors, and probably even to his liege lord, the Emír el Mumenín, he was anxious to vindicate his reputation. It was from the same motive[68] that he begged me most urgently not to tell anybody that I had made him the presents here, adding, that he would afterwards say that he had received them from me from Kanó.

Having returned home, I thankfully received the compliments which were made me from different quarters on account of the fortunate issue of my affair with this “munáfekí,” or evil-doer; and although the horse, which was not brought till next morning after we had been waiting for it a long while, proved rather ill-looking and poor, being scarcely worth more than ten thousand kurdí, or four dollars, and though the saddle was broken and harness wanting altogether, I was quite content, and exulted in my good fortune. But before leaving this once most important place, I shall try to give a short historical sketch of its past, and an outline of its present state. I only hope that the description of my personal relations in this town may not be thought too diffuse; but while it affords a glance into the actual state of things, it may also serve to instruct those who may hereafter travel in these regions.

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[69]CHAP. XXIV.

HÁUSA. — HISTORY AND DESCRIPTION OF KÁTSENA. — ENTRY INTO KANÓ.

In order to render intelligible the anterior history of Kátsena, it will be necessary to enter into some preliminary explanation respecting the whole country of Háusa. The name Háusa was unknown, as it seems, to Leo Africanus; else instead of saying that the inhabitants of Zária, Kátsena, and Kanó spoke the language of Góber[14], he would have said that they spoke the Háusa language. But we have no right to conclude from this circumstance that the practice of giving the name Háusa, not only to the widely-diffused language, but also to the countries collectively in which it prevails, is later than Leo’s time; on the contrary, I must acknowledge the improbability of such an assumption. It is true that, with the faint light available, we are unable to discern quite distinctly how the Háusa nation originated; but we may positively assert that it was not an indigenous nation, or at least that it did not occupy its present seat from[70] very ancient times, but that it settled in the country at a comparatively recent date. As to one of the associated states, and the most prominent and noble amongst them (I mean Góber), we know positively that in ancient times it occupied tracts situated much further north[15]; and I have been assured that the name Háusa also proceeded from the same quarter—an opinion which seems to be confirmed by the affinity of that language with the Temáshight.[16] Whether the name was originally identical with the word “Áusa,” which, as we shall see, is used by the Western Tawárek and the people of Timbúktu to denote the country on this the northern side of the Great River, in opposition to “Gúrma,” the country on its southern side, I am unable to say.

Sultan Béllo’s statement, that the Háusa people originated from a Bórnu slave, deserves very little credit. It is to be considered as merely expressive of his contempt for the effeminate manners of the Háusa people in his time. But their language, though it has a few words in common with the Kanúri, is evidently quite distinct from it, as well in its vocabulary as in its[71] grammar. What Béllo says may be correct in a certain sense with regard to the population of Kanó, which indeed seems to consist, for the greater part, of Bórnu elements, though in course of time the people have adopted the Háusa language; and this may be the case also with other provinces, the original population having been more nearly related to the Manga-Bórnu stock. The name “Báwu,” which occurs in the mythical genealogy of the Háusa people as that of the ancestor of most of the Háusa states, can hardly be supposed to be a mere personification representing the state of slavery in which the nation formerly existed; the name for slave in the Háusa language is báwa, not báwu. It is, however, remarkable that this personage is said to be the son of Karbágarí, whose name evidently implies “the taking of a town,” and might be derived from the capture of the town of Bíram, which is universally represented as the oldest seat of the Háusa people, a tradition which is attested by a peculiar usage even at the present day. This town of Bíram is situated between Kanó and Khadéja, and is often called “Bíram-ta-ghabbes,” in order to distinguish it from a more westerly town of the same name. Bíram, the personification of this town, is said to have been, by his grandson, Báwu, (the son of Karbágarí), the progenitor of the six other Háusa states (likewise personified): viz. Kátsena and Zégzeg, who are represented as twins; Kanó and Ranó, another pair of twins; Góber and Dáura. However, it[72] seems almost universally acknowledged that of all these children Dáura was the eldest.[17]

More important in a historical point of view, and confirming what has been said above, appears to be the statement that the mother of these children belonged to the Déggara or Díggera, a Berber tribe at present established to the north of Múniyo, and once very powerful. Bíram, Dáura, Góber, Kanó, Ranó, Kátsena, and Zégzeg, are the well-known original seven Háusa states, the “Háusa bókoy” (the seven Háusa), while seven other provinces or countries, in which the Háusa language has spread to a great extent, although it is not the language of the aboriginal inhabitants, are called jocosely “bánza bokoy” (the upstart, or illegitimate); these are Zánfara, Kébbi, Núpe or Nýffi, Gwári, Yáuri, Yóruba or Yáriba, and Korórofa.

As for the six children of Báwu, they are said to have had each his share assigned to him by his father in the following way: Góber was appointed the “serkí-n-yáki” (the war-chief), in order to defend his brethren, Kanó and Ranó being made “sáraki-n-bába” (the ministers of the “máriná,” that peculiar[73] emblem of the industry of Háusa), and Kátsena and Dáura “sáraki-n-káswa” (the ministers of intercourse and commerce), while Zégzeg is said to have been obliged to provide his brethren with those necessary instruments of social life in these regions, namely, slaves, becoming the “serkí-n-baÿ.” Ranó, which at present has been greatly reduced, though it is still a considerable place, situated south-west from Kanó, was originally, like each of the other towns, the capital of an independent territory, though not mentioned hitherto by any traveller who has spoken of Háusa.

If we credit Leo’s description, we must conclude that when he visited these regions, towards the end of the 15th century of our era, there was no capital in the province of Kátsena, the whole country being inhabited in “piccoli casali fatti a guisa di capanne.” For with respect to later events, which happened after he had left the country, and while he was writing his description, very imperfect information appears to have reached him. Now, the list of the kings of Kátsena, from a remote period, is still tolerably well preserved, together with the length of their respective reigns; and there is no reason whatever to doubt their general accuracy, as the history of the state has been in writing at least since the middle of the 16th century of our era, and we have something to control this list, and to connect it with facts gleaned from other quarters. This regards the period of the reign of the king Ibrahím Máji, who, as we know, lived[74] in the time of the famous Tawáti Mohammed ben ʿAbd el Kerím ben Maghíli, the friend and contemporary, as I have said above[18], of the great encyclopædist Abu ’l Fadhl Jelál e’ dín ʿAbd e’ Rahmán el Khodairi e’ Soyúti, commonly known under the name of E’ Sheikh e’ Soyúti; and his connection with the king of Kátsena we are able to fix with tolerable certainty by his relation to the Sónghay king Is-hák, who is said to have excited his severest indignation by refusing to punish the people who had murdered his son in Gógó.[19] And although we can scarcely believe[75] that the ruin of the Sónghay empire, and the rise of that of Kátsena, was the consequence of this holy man’s curse, nevertheless we are justified in presuming that after he had received offence from the king Is-hák, by being refused satisfaction, he began to cultivate friendly relations with the king of Kátsena, a country then rising into importance.

We are therefore justified in placing Ibrahím Máji (the king of Kátsena, whom the fanatic Moslim converted to Islám) about the middle of the 10th century of the Hejra. Now, if we count backwards from this period, adding together the years attributed to each reign, to Komáyo, the man who is universally stated to have founded Kátsena, we obtain at least three hundred and fifty years, which would carry back the political existence of the state of Kátsena to the beginning of the 7th century of the Hejra. In this computation we reduce the reign of the first two kings, or chiefs (of whom Komáyo is said to have reigned a hundred years, and his successor ninety), to about twenty years each. Excepting this little exaggeration, which is such as we find recurring in the early history of almost every nation, I do not see any reason for rejecting the list of the kings of this country, as it is preserved not only in the memory of the people, but even in written documents, though, indeed, it is to be lamented that the books containing a comprehensive history of this nation have been destroyed intentionally by the Fúlbe, or Féllani,[76] since the conquest of the country, in order to annihilate, as far as possible, the national records.

The dynasty founded by Komáyo comprised four kings in succession, besides its founder, namely, Rámba, Téryau, Jerinnáta and Sanáwu. Sanáwu, after a reign of thirty years, is said to have been killed by Koráwu, who came from a place named Yendútu, and founded a new dynasty (if we count backwards from the time of Ibrahím Máji) about the year 722 of the Hejra; but, of course, I do not pretend to any exactness in these dates. Whether Ibrahím Máji belonged to the same dynasty which Koráwu had founded, I am not able to say. About thirty years before the time of Ibrahím Máji, in the year 919 A.H., or 1513 A.D., occurred that eventful expedition of the great Sónghay king Háj Mohammed Áskiá which threw all these countries into the greatest confusion. According to Leo, at that time Kátsena acknowledged the supremacy of Kanó, having been subjected for only a short time to the sway of the king of Sónghay, and afterwards most probably to that of the energetic and successful king of Kébbi, who repulsed the great Áskiá. Kátsena must have fallen very soon under the supremacy of the empire of Bórnu. About fifty years after the beginning of the reign of the first Moslim king, a new dynasty commenced, that of the Hábe[20], which, as it[77] is unanimously stated to have ruled for a hundred and sixty-nine years, and as it was driven out by the Fúlbe in the year of the Hejra 1222, must have commenced about the year 1053 (A.D. 1643). In this latter dynasty, however, there seem to have been two factions (or families), which are noticed already in the preceding dynasty, one of which was called Chagarána, and the other Káryaghíwá.[21] But before speaking of the struggle between the Fúlbe and the Hábe, I shall say a few words about the town of Kátsena.

The town, probably, did not receive the name of the province till it had become large and predominant; which event, if Leo be correct, we must conclude did not happen much before the middle of the 16th century of our era, while in early times some separate villages probably occupied the site where, at a later period, the immense town spread out. The oldest of these villages is said to have been Ambutéy or Mbutéy, where we must presume Komáyo and his successors to have resided. After Gógó had been conquered by Muláy Hámed, the emperor of Morocco, and, from a large and industrious capital, had become a provincial town, great part of the commerce which formerly centred there must have been[78] transferred to Kátsena, although this latter place seems never to have had any considerable trade in gold, which formed the staple of the market of Gógó. Thus the town went on increasing to that enormous size, the vestiges of which still exist at the present time, although the quarter actually inhabited comprises but a small part of its extent.[22]

The town, if only half of its immense area were ever tolerably well inhabited, must certainly have had a population of at least a hundred thousand souls; for its circuit is between thirteen and fourteen English miles. At present, when the inhabited quarter is reduced to the north-western part, and when even this is mostly deserted, there are scarcely seven or eight thousand people living in it. In former times it was the residence of a prince, who, though he seems never to have attained to any remarkable degree of power, and was indeed almost always in some degree dependent on, or a vassal of, the king of Bórnu, nevertheless was one of the most wealthy and conspicuous rulers of Negroland.[23] Every prince[79] at his accession to the throne had to forward a sort of tribute or present to Birni Ghasréggomo, the capital of the Bórnu empire, consisting of one hundred slaves, as a token of his obedience; but this being done, it does not appear that his sovereign rights were in any way interfered with. In fact, Kátsena, during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries[80] of our era, seems to have been the chief city of this part of Negroland, as well in commercial and political importance as in other respects; for here that state of civilization which had been called forth by contact with the Arabs seems to have reached its highest degree, and as the Háusa language here attained the greatest richness of form and the most refined pronunciation, so also the manners of Kátsena were distinguished by superior politeness from those of the other towns of Háusa.

But this state of things was wholly changed, when, in the very beginning of the present century, in the year 1222 of the Hejra, or 1807 of our era, the Fúlbe, called Féllani by the Háusa, and Felláta by the Bórnu people, raised to the highest pitch of fanaticism by the preaching of the Reformer or Jihádi ʿOthmán dan Fódiye, and formed into the religious and political association of the Jemmáʿa, or, as they pronounce it, Jemmára, succeeded in possessing themselves of this town. However, while Kanó fell ingloriously, and almost without resistance, into the hands of Slimán (the Háusa king El Wáli having escaped to Zária), the struggle for Kátsena was protracted and sanguinary. Indeed Mʿallem Ghomáro had carried on unrelenting war against the town for seven years, before he at length reduced it by famine; and the distress in the town is said to have been so great that a dead “ángulú” or vulture (impure food which nobody would touch in time of peace) sold for five hundred kurdí, and a kadángeré or lizard for fifty. But[81] the struggle did not cease here; for the “Hábe” succeeded once more in expelling the conquerors from the town, without, however, being able to maintain their position, when Mʿallem Ghomáro returned with a fresh army. Five princes of Kátsena, one after the other, fell in this struggle for religious and national independence; and the Púllo general was not quite secure of his conquest till after the total destruction of the town of Dánkama, when Mágajin Háddedu was slain only four months after his predecessor Mahamúdu had succumbed in Sabóngarí. Even then the new Háusa prince Benóni, who still bore the title of “serkí-n-Kátsena,” did not lay down his arms, but maintained the contest till he likewise was conquered and slain in Túntuma.

From this time the town declined rapidly, and all the principal foreign merchants migrated to Kanó, where they were beyond the reach of this constant struggle; and even the Asbenáwa transferred their salt-market to the latter place, which now became the emporium of this part of Negroland, while Kátsena retained but secondary importance as the seat of a governor. This is indeed to be lamented, as the situation of the town is excellent, and, both on account of its position to the various routes and of its greater salubrity, is far preferable to Kanó. However, as matters stand, unless either the Fúlbe succeed in crushing entirely the independent provinces to the north and north-west (which, in the present weak state of the empire of Sókoto, is far from probable), or till[82] the Goberáwa and Mariadáwa, whose king still bears the title of serkí-n-Kátsena, reconquer this town, it will continue to decline and become more desolate every year. In fact, Mohammed Béllo, the present governor, had conceived the design of giving up this immense town altogether, and of founding a new residence of smaller compass in its neighbourhood; but his liege-lord, Alíyu, the Emír el Múmenín, would not allow him to do so.

I shall say nothing here about the empire of the Fúlbe, or about their character, of which I received a very bad impression during my first dealings with them, but shall treat of both these subjects hereafter. The only inhabited part of the town at present is the north-west quarter, although any one who should omit to take into account the population scattered over the other parts, principally round about the residence of the governor, and the people settled in the hamlets near the gates, would make a great mistake. Here it may be added, that most of the importance which Kátsena has still preserved, in a commercial aspect, is due to its position with respect to Núpe, with which it keeps up a tolerably-lively intercourse, the route from it to that industrious but most unfortunate country being practicable even for camels, while the road from Kanó can only be travelled with horses and asses. Almost all the more considerable native merchants in Kátsena are Wangaráwa (Eastern Mandingoes).

The province of Kátsena was formerly far more extensive[83] than it is at present, but it has been curtailed, in order not to leave its governor too much inducement to make himself independent. Besides, many parts of it, being much exposed to the continual incursions of the independent Háusáwa, have greatly suffered, so that probably the population of the whole province does not now exceed three hundred thousand souls[24], of whom only about one half seem to pay tribute. Every head of a family has to pay here two thousand five hundred kurdí-n-kassa, or ground-rent, and the whole of the kurdí-n-kassa of the province is estimated by those best acquainted with the affairs of the country at from twenty to thirty millions; a tax of five hundred kurdí is levied also on every slave. The military force of the province consists of two thousand horsemen, and about eight thousand men on foot, most of them archers.[25] Altogether the province of Kátsena is one of the finest parts of Negroland, and being situated just at the water-parting between the basin of the Tsád and that of the Kwára, at a general elevation of from 1200 to 1500 feet, it enjoys the advantage of being at once well watered and well drained, the chains of hills which diversify its surface sending down numerous rapid streams, so that it is less insalubrious than other regions of this[84] continent. Its productions are varied and rich, though its elevated situation seems unfavourable to the growth of cotton. But, on the other side, useful trees seem to be more numerous in this district than in any other under the same latitude; and the áyaba or banana, and the gónda or papaya, are found in many favoured spots, while the dorówa or Parkia, the tsámia or tamarind, and the kadeña, or the Shea butter-tree (Bassia Parkii), are the most common trees everywhere, and very often form thick clusters. As I shall have to describe the western districts in the narrative of my journey to Sókoto, in 1853, I now proceed with my route to Kanó.

Thursday, January 30th.I was extremely glad when, after a long delay—for we had been obliged to wait more than an hour for the poor nag presented to me by the governor,—we reached the south-eastern gate of the town, the “kófa-n-Káura.” It was as if I had just escaped from a prison, and I drew my breath deeply as I inhaled the fresh air outside the wall. I should have carried with me a very unfavourable impression of Kátsena, if it had not been my destiny to visit this place again under more favourable circumstances; and I should have obtained a very false idea of the character of the Fúlbe, if, from the little experience which I had acquired in this place, I had formed a definitive judgment of them.

On the southern side of the town there is at present no cultivated ground; but the whole country is in a wild state, covered with brushwood. What we saw[85] also of the traffic on the path seemed to be not of a very peaceable kind; for we met nothing but armed foot and horsemen hastening to Kátsena on the news of the expedition in course of preparation by the people of Marádi. But further on, the aspect of the country became a little more peaceful; and after a march of three miles we passed a well, where the women from a neighbouring village were offering for sale the common vegetables of the country, such as gowáza or yams, dánkali or sweet potatoes, kúka, the leaves of the monkey bread-tree, dodówa or the vegetable cakes mentioned above, ground nuts, beans, and sour milk. Nevertheless the whole country, with its few fortified villages, its little cultivation, and the thick forests which separated the villages one from another, left the impression of a very unsettled and precarious existence. I observed that brushwood, where it is not interrupted by larger trees, is always a proof of cultivation having been carried on at no distant period. In the midst of a wild thicket, which deranged all my things, we met a long warlike-train of several hundred horsemen, who perhaps might have incommoded us on the narrow path, if the strange appearance of my luggage had not so frightened the horses, that they rather chose to carry their riders through the very thickest of the covert than to fall in with us. Dúm-palms now began to appear; and beyond the considerable village Bay, cultivation became more extensive. Besides the fan-palm, the dumma and[86] kaña, and the immense monkey bread-tree, with its colossal (now leafless) branches, from which the long heavy “kauchi” were hanging down on slender mouse-tail stalks, were the prevalent trees.

By degrees the country became more beautiful and cheerful, exhibiting a character of repose and ease which is entirely wanting in the northern parts of the province; separate comfortable dwellings of cattle-breeding Féllani were spread about, and the corn-fields were carefully fenced and well kept. I was greatly astonished when Gajére, with a certain feeling of national pride, pointed out to me here the extensive property of Sídi Ghálli el Háj Ánnur, the man whom I had occasion, in my description of Ágades, to mention amongst the most respectable people of that town. It is astonishing how much property is held in these fertile regions by the Tawárek of Ásben; and to what consequences this may eventually lead, everybody will easily conjecture.

A little before four o’clock in the afternoon we encamped close to a village called Shibdáwa, the celebrated town of Dáura being distant two days’ march.

Friday, January 31st.It was a most beautiful morning; and I indulged in the feeling of unbounded liberty, and in the tranquil enjoyment of the beautiful aspect of God’s creation. The country through which we passed on leaving Shibdáwa, formed one of the finest landscapes I ever saw in my life. The ground was pleasantly undulating, covered with a profusion of herbage not yet entirely dried up by[87] the sun’s power; the trees, belonging to a great variety of species, were not thrown together into an impenetrable thicket of the forest, but formed into beautiful groups, exhibiting all the advantage of light and shade. There was the kaña, with its rich dark-tinged foliage, the kadeña, or butter-tree, which I here saw for the first time, exhibiting the freshest and most beautiful green; then the marké, more airy, and sending out its branches in more irregular shape, with light groups of foliage; young tamarind-trees rounding off their thick crown of foliage till it resembled an artificial canopy spread out for the traveller to repose in its shade, besides the gámji, the shéria, the sokútso, the turáwa, and many other species of trees unknown to me; while above them all, tall and slender górebas unfolded their fan-crowns, just as if to protect the eye of the delighted wanderer from the rays of the morning sun, and to allow him to gaze undisturbed on the enchanting scenery around. Near the village Káshi even the gónda-tree or Carica Papaya, which is so rarely seen in these quarters, enlivened the scenery. The densely-luxuriant groves seemed to be the abode only of the feathered tribe, birds of numberless variety playing and warbling about in the full enjoyment of their liberty, while the “serdi,” a large bird with beautiful plumage of a light-blue colour, especially attracted my attention. Now and then a herd of cattle was seen dispersed over the rich pasturage-grounds, all of white colour, and the bulls provided with a large fat[88] hump or “tózo” hanging down on one side. But in this delightful spectacle objects of destruction also were not wanting, the poisonous plant “túmnia” starting forth everywhere.

Cotton and karásia fields interrupted the parklike scenery; and near Kámri, a small place surrounded with a low clay wall, we were delighted with the view of a green patch of low ground laid out into beds, and, with the help of a number of drawbeams, “khattatír,” or “lámbuna,” producing wheat and onions. This ground too is only worked with the gélma and the fertáña or small hoe.

Granite rock was protruding in several places; and a little after mid-day we had a detached range of hills on our right stretching E. and W. Soon afterwards, near the village Temma, we passed a small market-place, consisting of about eight sheds, and shaded by a number of wide-spreading tamarind-trees, where I was astonished at the number of cattle and horses assembled, but heard on inquiry that they were not intended for sale. Further on, after we had passed the fields of Gógó, plenty of cattle and goats were seen browsing everywhere about. All the cattle were of a white, and all the goats of a coffee-brown colour. Having passed the encampment of the Tin-néggaru or Kél-néggaru, and crossed a dale fringed with small fresh patches of wheat, which were watered by way of the said “lámbuna” from wells in the hollow, we encamped a quarter before four o’clock close to the fence of the village Bógo; for the whole country swarms[89] with thieves, and great caution is necessary at night: the Tin-néggaru last night killed a thief, who was attempting to carry off a loaf of salt.

Saturday, February 1st.After a march of about two miles and a half, over clayey ground greatly broken up by the rains, we reached the N.W. corner of the considerable town Kusáda, and continued along its western wall, where a group of very tall and majestic rimis (Bombax or Eriodendron Guineense), though at present leafless, formed a most conspicuous object. It is very singular and highly characteristic, that this tree (the bentang-tree of Mungo Park) generally grows near the principal gate of the large towns in Háusa, while otherwise it is not frequent, at least not the large full-grown specimens; and it is not improbable that the natives purposely planted them in those places as a kind of waymark—or perhaps it may be a remnant of their pagan customs, this tree being deemed holy by several pagan tribes. It is almost incredible at what an immense distance these stupendous trees, the tallest of the vegetable kingdom, may be seen.

Kusáda is a town of importance, and is very little less than Gazáwa, though not so thickly inhabited; the wall of the town is in tolerably good repair, and the interior is rich in trees, making it look very cheerful and comfortable. Most of the huts consist of clay walls, with a thatched roof, which is certainly the mode of architecture best adapted to the climate and the whole nature of the country.

When leaving the south side of this town we were[90] joined by a troop of women very heavily-laden, each carrying upon the head from six to ten enormous calabashes filled with various articles: but they did not prove to be agreeable company; for not being able to walk steadily for any length of time with their loads, they stopped every few minutes, and then went on at a running pace, till they were obliged again to halt, so that they came frequently into collision either with my camel or with the bullock. It is really incredible what loads the native women of Negroland can carry on their heads, but I think no other tribe is equal in this respect to the Tápua or Nyffáwa. The country through which we had to pass along for the first two miles was overgrown with underwood, and much broken up by the rains, till we reached the stubble-fields of Kaférda, where my attention was attracted again by a few scattered specimens of the gigiña, or deléb-palm, which, in these districts, seems to be extremely rare. Descending then a little, the country assumed once more that delightful park-like appearance which had so charmed me the previous day; and the variety of the vegetation was extraordinary,—góreba, jéja, gámji, rími, and dóka being the principal trees.

The industry of the natives was also well represented; for soon after we had met a troop of men carrying home loads of indigo-plants, in order to prepare them in their simple way, we passed over extensive tobacco-fields, which had very nearly reached maturity. Rich aromatic bushes were growing everywhere[91] in the fields, affording most nourishing food for bees, for which purpose hives, formed of thick hollow logs, were fastened to the branches of the colossal kúka-trees. We here passed a most curious specimen of vegetable intercourse in the thorough intermixture of a gigiña with another tree. In the course of my travels my attention was drawn to the interesting attraction which exists between the tamarind-tree and the kúka, both of which trees I very often found linked together in the closest embraces. This district was greatly enlivened also by a rich variety of the feathered tribe, but the beautiful serdi was not seen; the káló and the tsírna now taking its place.

A quarter of an hour after noon we passed the considerable place Dan-Sábua, defended only by a stockade, and, with the exception of a small market-place, giving very little proof of any kind of industry existing among its inhabitants. When I passed the place three years later, it even seemed almost deserted. About two miles further on we passed a small round hill covered with underwood up to its very summit, and remarkable enough for being taken as a boundary-mark between the provinces of Kátsena and Kanó; in 1854, however, the frontier was carried further N.W., near Kaférda. We encamped early in the afternoon near the village Gúrzo, separated from it only by a dell laid out in small garden-fields with wheat and onions, and obtained a good supply of the latter, but nothing else. In the night a thief almost succeeded[92] in carrying off some of our luggage, but had to run very hard for his life.

Early the next morning we started with an enthusiastic impulse, in order to reach before night the celebrated emporium of Central Negroland. Kanó, indeed, is a name which excites enthusiasm in every traveller in these regions, from whatever quarter he may come, but principally if he arrives from the north. We thus started in the twilight, passing in the bush some herds of cattle remaining out in the pasture-grounds, and meeting several troops of travellers, which made us fancy the capital to be nearer than it really was. We listened to the tales of our comely and cheerful companion, the “babá-n-báwa” of Tágelel, who detailed to us the wonders of this African London, Birmingham, and Manchester—the vastness of the town, the palace and retinue of the governor, the immense multitudes assembled every day in its market-place, the splendour and richness of the merchandise exposed there for sale, the various delicacies of the table, the beauty and gracefulness of its ladies. At times my fiery Tunisian mulatto shouted out from mere anticipation of the pleasures which awaited him.

Keeping steadily along, we reached, after about five miles, the very considerable town of Béchi, the well-kept high clay walls of which started forth suddenly from a most luxuriant mass of vegetation, where we saw again the beautifully-feathered serdi fluttering about from branch to branch.

[93]The town is very remarkable, as exhibiting the peculiar circumstances of the social state in this country; for it belongs partly to the Tawárek tribe of the Itísan, whose búgaje or serfs—properly half-castes, born of free mothers, but slaves from the father’s side—live here, cultivating for their lords the fields around the town. Thus we see Tawárek everywhere, not only as occasional merchants, but even as settlers and proprietors. The town has but one gate; and a great many of the houses are of the kind described above. Beyond the town the country becomes less cultivated, and is mostly covered with the wild gónda-bush, which bears a most delicious fruit, richly deserving to be called the cream-apple. I suspected it for some time to be identical with the custard-apple; but I afterwards assured myself that it is not. I call the attention of every African traveller to this fruit, which affords the greatest relief after a long day’s journey; but it does not grow on the flat clayey plains of Bórnu Proper.

Beyond the little market-place of Budúmme we met the first strings of empty camels belonging to the aïri with which we had been travelling. They were returning from Kanó, where they had carried the salt, in order to retrace their steps to good pasture-grounds, while their masters remained in the capital to sell their merchandise. The drivers confirmed the information we had already received, that our protector Elaíji had not as yet arrived in the town. For he likewise possesses a large property[94] near Kazáure, whither he had gone after parting from me at Kátsena. The country again assumed a more cheerful character; we passed several villages, and even a máriná, or dyeing-place, and the path was well frequented. Almost all the people who met us saluted us most kindly and cheerfully; and I was particularly amused by the following form of salutation: “Bárka, sanú sanú: hm! hm!” “God bless you, gently, gently; how strange!” Only a few proud Féllani, very unlike their brethren in the west, passed us without a salute. The villages are here scattered about in the most agreeable and convenient way, as farming villages ought always to be, but which is practicable only in a country in a state of considerable security and tranquillity. All their names, therefore, are in the plural form, as Tarauráwa, Jimbedáwa, Bagadáwa. The idea of a great degree of industry was inspired by the sight of a máriná near Jimbedáwa, comprising as many as twenty dyeing-pots; and here also a little market was held by the women of the district. About half-past one in the afternoon we entered the rich district of Dáwano, which almost exclusively belongs to the wealthy Dan Mália, and is chiefly inhabited by Féllani. There was here a large market-place, consisting of several rows of well-built sheds, and frequented by numbers of people. A few market-women attached themselves to our little troop, giving us assurance that we should be able to reach the “bírni” to-day, but then added that we ought to arrive at the outer gate before sunset, as it is shut at that time.

[95]We accordingly pressed on with our varied little caravan, consisting of a very lean black horse, covered with coarse wool-like hair, worth four dollars, or perhaps less; a mare, scarcely worth more in its present condition; a camel, my faithful Bú-Séfi, evidently the most respectable four-footed member of the troop, carrying a very awkward load, representing my whole travelling household, with writing-table and bedding-boards; a sumpter-ox, heavily laden; then the four human bipeds to match, viz. one half-barbarized European, one half-civilized Góberáwi Tunisian mulatto, a young lean Tébu lad, and my stout, sturdy, and grave overseer from Tágelel. As we then entered some fields of sesamum, or “nóme” (quite a new sight for me in this country, but which was soon to become of very common occurrence), Gajére descried in the distance between the trees the top of the hill Dalá, and we all strained our eyes to get a first glimpse of this hill, which is the real landmark of Kanó.

The country hereabouts exhibited a new feature, some of the fields being enclosed with a bush which I had not seen before, and which was called by my intelligent guide “fidde serewukka.” In Múniyo, where I afterwards saw it used for the same purpose, it is called “mágara.” It is a kind of broom, growing to the height of ten or twelve feet, and has a milky juice, which is slightly poisonous, but by some people is employed as a cure for wounds caused by thorns. A little while afterwards we saw the first single date-palm,[96] a tree also most characteristic of Kanó; and now, the country becoming clear, we obtained a full sight of both the hills, Dalá and Kógo-n-dútsi, which rise from the flat level of the plain; but nothing was as yet visible of the town, and we had but faint hopes of reaching it before sunset. However, we went on, though a little disheartened, as we had some foreboding that we should incur the displeasure of the governor; and passing through the gate, in front of which part of the aïri were encamped, without stopping, as if we were natives of the country, went on across open fields. It took us forty minutes to reach the house of Báwu from the gate, though this lies near the very outskirts of Dalá, the northernmost quarter of the town.

It was quite dark, and we had some trouble in taking possession of the quarters assigned to us by our host.

Kanó had been sounding in my ears now for more than a year; it had been one of the great objects of our journey as the central point of commerce, as a great storehouse of information, and as the point whence more distant regions might be most successfully attempted. At length, after nearly a year’s exertions, I had reached it.

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[97]CHAP. XXV.

RESIDENCE IN KANÓ. — VIEW OF ITS INTERIOR. — ITS HISTORY AND PRESENT STATE. — COMMERCE.

Kanó for us was a station of importance not only from a scientific but also from an economical point of view. Instead of being provided with ready cash, we had received in Múrzuk, on account of the British government, merchandise which, we had been assured, would not only be safer than money, but would also prove more advantageous for us. In consequence of the heavy extortions to which we were subjected on the road to Aïr, and of our long delay in that country, we had been deprived of the small articles which we carried for barter, so that we were entirely thrown upon the merchandise which we had forwarded in advance from Tintéggana; and I for my part, on my arrival in Kanó, had to liquidate a debt of not less than 112,300 kurdí: viz. 55,000 for the carriage of this very merchandise from Tintéggana to Kanó; 8300 as my share of the presents or passage-money given on the road; 18,000 to Gajére, as hire for the mare and bullock; and 31,000 to a man of the name of Háj el Dáwaki, on account of Abú-Bakr el Wákhshi, for the articles bought from him in Kátsena,[98] in order to satisfy the governor of that place. Besides, I was aware that I had to make a considerable present to the governor of Kanó; and I was most desirous to discharge Mohammed e’ Túnsi, whom I had discovered to be utterly useless in these countries, and who, besides his insupportable insolence, might bring me into trouble by his inconsiderate and frivolous conduct.

These were material calls upon my encumbered property. On my mind, too, there were claims of a not less serious character; for, from my very outset from Europe, I had steadily fixed my eyes upon that Eastern branch of the Kwára, or so called Niger, which Laird, Allen, and Oldfield had navigated for the distance of some eighty miles, and which the former (although he himself did not penetrate further than Fánda) had, with reasons decisive in my eyes, and which could not be overthrown in my opinion by Captain William Allen’s ingenious but fanciful hypothesis, concluded to have no communication whatever with Lake Tsád, but to proceed from another and very different quarter.[26]

I had therefore cherished the hope, that I should be capable of penetrating from Kanó in the direction[99] of ʿAdamáwa, a country wherein I was sure that the question respecting the course of the river would be decided; but obviously such an undertaking could not be engaged in without pecuniary means, and all therefore depended on my success in selling advantageously the merchandise with which I was provided.

For all these reasons, nothing could be more disagreeable and disheartening to me, though I was not quite unprepared for it, than the information which I received the very evening of my arrival in Kanó, that the price of merchandise such as I had was very low. In the next place, I soon found that Báwu, Mr. Gagliuffi’s agent, whom in compliance with his recommendation we had made also our commissioner, was not to be implicitly relied on. He was the second son of Háj Hát Sáleh, the man so well known from the narrative of Captain Clapperton, towards whom he seems to have behaved with honesty and fairness, and by this means perhaps he had recommended himself to Mr. Gagliuffi; but Báwu was not the right man to be entrusted with discretionary power over the property of a foreign merchant residing at a great distance, and belonging even to another religion, or to be the commissioner for European travellers. Young and ambitious as he was, he had no other object but to insinuate himself into the good graces of the governor at the expense of those who had been foolish enough to trust themselves into his hands. Besides, he had upon his hand a host of younger brothers, who all wanted to “eat.” Though Háj Hát Sáleh seems[100] to have been a respectable man, he must have paid very little attention to the education of his children.

It will scarcely be believed that this man, although he had two camel-loads of goods of mine in his hands, yet left me without a single shell, “ko urí gudá,” for a whole fortnight, so that I was glad to borrow two thousand kurdí—less than an Austrian dollar, from Mohammed e’ Sfáksi, in order to defray the most necessary expenses of my household.

Besides, this agent urged the absolute necessity of making a considerable present not only to the governor, which I was quite prepared to do, but another of nearly the same value to the ghaladíma or first minister, who happened to be the governor’s brother, and enjoyed quite as much authority and influence. The consequence was that I was obliged to give away the few articles of value in my possession merely for being tolerated and protected. The second day after my arrival, the governor received a message from Mr. Richardson, forwarded from Zínder, intimating that, after he should have received new supplies from the coast, he would not fail to come to Kanó; whereupon he sent me word that I had done very wrong to enter his town without giving him previous information, whereas my countryman had already forwarded a notice that at some future period he was likely to pay him a visit. Besides concluding from the fact that I was not mentioned at all in that letter that I was travelling on my own account, he made also greater pretensions with regard to a present.

[101]Being lodged in dark, uncomfortable, and cheerless quarters, which I was forbidden to leave before the governor had seen me, destitute of a single farthing in cash, while I was daily called upon and pestered by my numerous creditors, and laughed at on account of my poverty by an insolent servant, my readers may fancy that my situation in the great far-famed entrepôt of Central Africa, the name of which had excited my imagination for so long a time, was far from agreeable. Partly from anxiety, partly from want of exercise, in the course of a few days I had a very severe attack of fever, which reduced me to a state of great weakness. Fortunately, however, I mustered sufficient strength to avail myself of a summons which called me at length into the presence of the governor, on the 18th of February; and by sacrificing what few things remained to me, I paved the road for my further proceedings, while the degree of exertion which was necessary to undergo the fatigue of the visit carried me over my weakness, and restored me gradually to health. The distances in Kanó, though less than those of London, are very great; and the ceremonies to be gone through are scarcely less tedious than those at any European court.

Clothing myself as warmly as possible in my Tunisian dress, and wearing over it a white tobe and a white bernús, I mounted my poor black nag, and followed my three mediators and advocates. These were Báwu, Elaíji and Sídi ʿAli. Elaíji had arrived three days after me from his estate, and had[102] continued to show me the same disinterested friendship which I had experienced from him before. Sídi ʿAli was the son of Mohammed, the former sultan of Fezzán, and last of the Welád Mohammed, who was killed by Mukni, the father of Yusuf, Mr. Richardson’s interpreter.

This man, whom it would have been far better for us to have employed as our agent from the beginning, had testified his interest in my welfare by sending me a fat ram as a present, and now accompanied me most kindly, in order to exert his influence in my behalf with the governor. On my second visit to Kanó on my return from Timbúktu, in the latter part of 1854, when I was still more destitute than in 1851, I placed myself directly under his protection, and made him my agent at the moment when the state of my affairs rendered considerable credit desirable.

It was a very fine morning; and the whole scenery of the town in its great variety of clay houses, huts, sheds, green open places affording pasture for oxen, horses, camels, donkeys, and goats, in motley confusion, deep hollows containing ponds overgrown with the water-plant the Pistia stratiotes, or pits freshly dug up in order to form the material for some new buildings, various and most beautiful specimens of the vegetable kingdom, particularly the fine symmetric gónda or papaya, the slender date-palm, the spreading alléluba, and the majestic rími or silk cotton-tree (Bombax)—the people in all varieties of costume, from the naked slave up to the most gaudily dressed Arab,—all formed a[103] most animated and exciting scene. As far as the market-place I had already proceeded on foot; but Báwu, as soon as he saw me, had hurried me back to my lodgings, as having not yet been formally received by the governor. But no one on foot can get a correct idea of an African town, confined as he is on every side by the fences and walls, while on horseback he obtains an insight into all the courtyards, becomes an eye-witness of scenes of private life, and often with one glance surveys a whole town.

Passing through the market-place, which had only begun to collect its crowds, and crossing the narrow neck of land which divides the characteristic pool “Jákara,” we entered the quarters of the ruling race, the Fúlbe or Féllani, where conical huts of thatchwork, and the gónda-tree, are prevalent, and where most beautiful and lively pictures of nature meet the eye on all sides. Thus we proceeded, first to the house of the gadó (the Lord of the Treasury), who had already called several times at my house, and acted as the mediator between me and the governor.

His house was a most interesting specimen of the domestic arrangements of the Fúlbe, who, however civilized they may have become, do not disown their original character as “berroróji,” or nomadic cattle-breeders. His courtyard, though in the middle of the town, looked like a farm-yard, and could not be conscientiously commended for its cleanliness. Having with difficulty found a small spot to sit down upon without much danger of soiling our clothes, we[104] had to wait patiently till his Excellency had examined and approved of the presents. Having manifested his satisfaction with them by appropriating to himself a very handsome large gilt cup, which with great risk I had carried safely through the desert, he accompanied us on horseback to the “fáda,” “lamórde,” or palace, which forms a real labyrinth of courtyards, provided with spacious round huts of audience, built of clay, with a door on each side, and connected together by narrow intricate passages. Hundreds of lazy, arrogant courtiers, freemen and slaves, were lounging and idling here, killing time with trivial and saucy jokes.

We were first conducted to the audience-hall of the ghaladíma, who, while living in a separate palace, visits the “fáda” almost every day, in order to act in his important and influential office as vizier; for he is far more intelligent, and also somewhat more energetic, than his lazy and indolent brother ʿOthmán[27], who allows this excessively wealthy and most beautiful province, “the garden of Central Africa,” to be ransacked with impunity by the predatory incursions of the serkí Ibrám of Zínder, and other petty chiefs. Both are sons of Dábo and Shékara—the latter one of the celebrated ladies of Háusa, a native of Dáura, who is still living, and has three other children, viz.[105] a son (Makhmúd) and two daughters, one of them named Fátima Záhar, and the other Sáretu. The governor was then eight and thirty, the ghaladíma seven and thirty years of age. They were both stout and handsome men, the governor rather too stout and clumsy. Their apartments were so excessively dark that, coming from a sunny place, it was some time before I could distinguish anybody. The governor’s hall was very handsome, and even stately for this country, and was the more imposing as the rafters supporting the very elevated ceiling were concealed, two lofty arches of clay, very neatly polished and ornamented, appearing to support the whole. At the bottom of the apartment were two spacious and highly decorated niches, in one of which the governor was reposing on a “gadó,” spread with a carpet. His dress was not that of a simple Púllo, but consisted of all the mixed finery of Háusa and Barbary; he allowed his face to be seen, the white shawl hanging down far below his mouth over his breast.

In both audiences (as well that with the “ghaladíma” as with the governor) old Elaíji was the speaker, beginning his speech with a captatio benevolentiæ, founded on the heavy and numerous losses sustained on the road by me and my companions. Altogether he performed his office very well, with the exception that he dwelt longer than was necessary on Overweg’s journey to Marádi, which certainly could not be a very agreeable topic to a Ba-Féllanchi. Sídi ʿAli[106] also displayed his eloquence in a very fair way. The ghaladíma made some intelligent observations, while the governor only observed that, though I had suffered so severely from extortion, yet I seemed to have still ample presents for him. Nor was he far wrong; for the black “kabá” (a sort of bernús, with silk and gold lace, which I gave him) was a very handsome garment, and here worth sixty thousand kurdí: besides, he got a red cap, a white shawl with red border, a piece of white muslin, rose oil, one pound of cloves, and another of jáwi or benzoin, razor, scissors, an English clasp-knife, and a large mirror of German silver. The ghaladíma got the same presents, except that, instead of the kabá, I gave him a piece of French striped silk worth fifty thousand kurdí.

However, our audience did not go off so fast as I relate it; for, after being dismissed by the ghaladíma, we were obliged to wait full two hours before we could see the governor; yet although we returned to our quarters during the very hottest hour of the day, I felt much better, and in the evening was able to finish a whole chicken, and to enjoy a cup of Cyprian wine, for which I felt very grateful to Mr. and Mrs. Crowe, who had supplied me with this cheering luxury.

Having now at length made my peace with the governor, and seeing that exercise of body and recreation of mind were the best medicines I could resort to, I mounted on horseback the next day again, and, guided by a lad well acquainted with the[107] topography of the town, rode for several hours round all the inhabited quarters, enjoying at my[108] leisure, from the saddle, the manifold scenes of public and private life, of comfort and happiness, of luxury and misery, of activity and laziness, of industry and indolence, which were exhibited in the streets, the market-places, and in the interior of the courtyards. It was the most animated picture of a little world in itself, so different in external form from all that is seen in European towns, yet so similar in its internal principles.

Here a row of shops filled with articles of native and foreign produce, with buyers and sellers in every variety of figure, complexion, and dress, yet all intent upon their little gain, endeavouring to cheat each other; there a large shed, like a hurdle, full of half-naked, half-starved slaves torn from their native homes, from their wives or husbands, from their children or parents, arranged in rows like cattle, and staring desperately upon the buyers, anxiously watching into whose hands it should be their destiny to fall. In another part were to be seen all the necessaries of life; the wealthy buying the most palatable things for his table; the poor stopping and looking greedily upon a handful of grain: here a rich governor dressed in silk and gaudy clothes, mounted upon a spirited and richly caparisoned horse, and followed by a host of idle, insolent slaves; there a poor blind man groping his way through the multitude, and fearing at every step to be trodden down; here a yard neatly fenced with mats of reed, and provided with all the comforts which the country affords—a[109] clean, snug-looking cottage, the clay walls nicely polished, a shutter of reeds placed against the low, well-rounded door, and forbidding intrusion on the privacy of life, a cool shed for the daily household work,—a fine spreading alléluba-tree, affording a pleasant shade during the hottest hours of the day, or a beautiful gónda or papaya unfolding its large feather-like leaves above a slender, smooth, and undivided stem, or the tall date-tree, waving over the whole scene; the matron in a clean black cotton gown wound round her waist, her hair neatly dressed in “chókoli” or bejáji, busy preparing the meal for her absent husband, or spinning cotton, and at the same time urging the female slaves to pound the corn; the children naked and merry, playing about in the sand at the “urgi-n-dáwaki” or the “da-n-chácha,” or chasing a straggling stubborn goat; earthenware pots and wooden bowls, all cleanly washed, standing in order. Further on a dashing Cyprian, homeless, comfortless, and childless, but affecting merriment or forcing a wanton laugh, gaudily ornamented with numerous strings of beads round her neck, her hair fancifully dressed and bound with a diadem, her gown of various colours loosely fastened under her luxuriant breast, and trailing behind in the sand; near her a diseased wretch covered with ulcers, or with elephantiasis.

Now a busy “máriná,” an open terrace of clay, with a number of dyeing-pots, and people busily employed in various processes of their handicraft: here a man[110] stirring the juice, and mixing with the indigo some colouring wood in order to give it the desired tint; there another, drawing a shirt from the dye-pot, or hanging it up on a rope fastened to the trees; there two men beating a well-dyed shirt, singing the while, and keeping good time; further on, a blacksmith busy with his rude tools in making a dagger which will surprise, by the sharpness of its blade, those who feel disposed to laugh at the workman’s instruments, a formidable barbed spear, or the more estimable and useful instruments of husbandry; in another place, men and women making use of an ill-frequented thoroughfare, as a “kaudi tseggenábe,” to hang up, along the fences, their cotton thread for weaving; close by, a group of indolent loiterers lying in the sun and idling away their hours.

Here a caravan from Gónja arriving with the desired kola-nut, chewed by all who have “ten kurdí” to spare from their necessary wants, or a caravan laden with natron, starting for Núpe, or a troop of Ásbenáwa going off with their salt for the neighbouring towns, or some Arabs leading their camels, heavily laden with the luxuries of the north and east (the “káya-n-ghábbes”) to the quarter of the Ghadamsíye; there, a troop of gaudy, warlike-looking horsemen galloping towards the palace of the governor to bring him the news of a new inroad of Serkí Ibrám. Everywhere[111] human life in its varied forms, the most cheerful and the most gloomy, seemed closely mixed together; every variety of national form and complexion—the olive-coloured Arab, the dark Kanúri, with his wide nostrils, the small-featured, light, and slender Ba-Féllanchi, the broad-faced Ba-Wángara (Mandingo), the stout, large-boned, and masculine-looking Núpe female, the well-proportioned and comely Ba-Háushe woman.

Delighted with my trip, and deeply impressed by the many curious and interesting scenes which had presented themselves to my eyes, I returned by way of the “úngwa-n-makáfi,” or “belád el amiyán” (the village of the blind), to my quarters, the gloominess and cheerlessness of which made the more painful impression upon me from its contrast with the brightly animated picture which I had just before enjoyed.

The next day I made another long ride through the town; and being tolerably well acquainted with the topography of the place and its different quarters, I enjoyed still more the charming view obtained from the top of the Dalá, and of which the accompanying sketch is but a feeble representation.[28]

[112]I had just descended from the eminence beneath which spread this glorious panorama, when I heard a well-known voice calling me by my name; it was ʿAbdalla the Tawáti, my friend and teacher in Ágades, who after residing some time in Tasáwa, had come to try his fortune in this larger sphere of action. I had besides him some other acquaintances, who gave me much interesting information, particularly a young Ba-Háushe lad of the name of Ibrahíma, who gave me the first tolerably correct idea of the road to Yóla, the capital of Adamáwa, although he was puzzled about the direction of the Great River, which he had crossed, supposing that it flowed eastward instead of westward. I derived also a great deal of information from a less agreeable man named Mohammed, with the surname “el Merábet” (reclaimed), rather antithetically, as “lucus a non lucendo,” for he was the most profligate drunkard imaginable, and eventually remained indebted to me for several thousand cowries.

I was much worried during my stay in Kanó by a son of the governor of Zária, who, suffering dreadfully from stricture or some other obstruction, had come expressly to Kanó in the hope of being relieved by me; and it was impossible for me to convince him that I had neither the knowledge nor the instruments necessary for effecting the cure of his disease. It would, no doubt, have been of great service if I had been able to cure him, as he was the son of one of the most powerful princes of Negroland; but as it was, I could only afford him a little temporary relief.[113] My intercourse with this man was indeed most painful to me, as I felt conscious of entire inability to help him, while he conjured me by all that was dear to me not to give him up and abandon him. He died shortly afterwards. More agreeable to me was a visit from the eldest son of the governor of Kanó, who, accompanied by two horsemen, came to call upon me one day, and not finding me at home, traced me whither I had gone, and having met me, followed silently till I had re-entered my quarters. He was a handsome, modest, and intelligent youth of about eighteen years of age, and was delighted with the performance of my musical-box. I gave him an English clasp-knife, and we parted the best of friends, greatly pleased with each other.

I had considerable difficulty in arranging my pecuniary affairs, and felt really ashamed at being unable to pay my debt to the Háj el Dáwaki till after El Wákhshi himself had arrived from Kátsena. After having sold, with difficulty, all that I possessed, having suffered a very heavy loss by Báwu’s dishonesty, paid my debts, and arranged my business with Mohammed el Túnsi, who, suffering under a very severe attack of fever, wanted most eagerly to return home, I should scarcely have been able to make the necessary preparations for my journey to Bórnu if the governor had not assisted me a little. He had hitherto behaved very shabbily towards me, not a single dish, not a sheep or other token of his hospitality having[114] been sent me during my stay in the town. I was therefore most agreeably surprised when, on the morning of the 2nd of March, old Elaíji came and announced to me that, in consequence of his urgent remonstrances, the governor had sent me a present of sixty thousand kurdí. He told me, with a sort of pride, that he had severely reprimanded him, assuring him that he was the only prince who had not honoured me. I should have been better pleased if the governor had sent me a pair of camels or a horse; but I was thankful for this unexpected supply; and giving six thousand to the officer who had brought the money, and as much to Elaíji, and dividing eight thousand between Báwu and Sídi ʿAli, I kept forty thousand for myself.

With this present I was fortunately enabled to buy two camels instead of sumpter oxen, which give great trouble on the road during the dry season, especially if not properly attended to, and prepared everything for my journey; but the people in these countries are all cowards, and as I was to go alone without a caravan, I was unable to find a good servant. Thus I had only my faithful Tébu lad Mohammed whom I could rely upon, having besides him none but a debauched young Fezzáni, Makhmúd, who had long lived in this town, and a youth named ʿAbd-Alla. Nevertheless I felt not a moment’s hesitation, but, on the contrary, impatiently awaited the moment when I should leave my dingy and melancholy quarters, full of mice and vermin.

I had hoped to get off on the 6th; but nothing was[115] heard from the governor, and it would have been imprudent to start without his permission. With envious feelings I witnessed the departure of the natron-caravan for Núpe or Nýffi, consisting of from two to three hundred asses. With it went Mohammed Ánnur, a very intelligent man, whom I had endeavoured by all possible means to hire as a servant, but could not muster shells enough. However, the exploration of all those more distant regions I was obliged in my present circumstances to give up, and to concentrate my whole energies on the effort to reach Kúkawa, where I had concerted with Mr. Richardson to arrive in the beginning of April. I had had the satisfaction of sending off a long report and several letters to Europe on the 1st of March (when the Ghadámsíye merchants dispatched a courier to their native town), and felt therefore much easier with regard to my communication with Europe. My delay also had given me the great advantage of making the acquaintance of a man named Mohammed el ʿAnáya, from the Dʿara el Takhtaníye, to the south of Morocco, who first gave me some general information about the route from Timbúktu to Sókoto, which in the sequel was to become a new field for my researches and adventures.

I became so seriously ill on the 8th, that I looked forward with apprehension to my departure, which was fixed for the following day. But before leaving this important place, I will make a few general observations with regard to its history and its present state.

[116]The town of Kanó, considered as the capital of a province, must be of somewhat older date than Kátsena, if we are to rely on Leo’s accuracy, though from other more reliable sources (which I shall bring to light in the chapter on the history of Bórnu) it is evident that even in the second half of the 16th century there could have been here only the fortress of Dalá, which, at that period, withstood the attacks of the Bórnu king. I think we are justified in supposing that, in this respect, Leo (when, after an interval of many years, he wrote the account of the countries of Negroland which he had visited) confounded Kanó with Kátsena. The strength of the Kanáwa, that is to say, the inhabitants of the province of Kanó, at the time of the Bórnu king Edrís Alawóma, is quite apparent from the report of his imám; but from that time forth the country seems to have been tributary to Bórnu; and the population of the town of Kanó is said, with good reason, to have consisted from the beginning mostly of Kanúri or Bórnu elements. However, the established allegiance or subjection of this province to Bórnu was evidently rather precarious, and could be maintained only with a strong hand; for there was a powerful neighbour, the king of Korórofa or Júku, ready to avail himself of every opportunity of extending his own power and dominion over that territory. We know also that one king of that country, whose name, however, I could not obtain, on the entry of a new governor into office in Kanó, made an expedition into that country,[117] and installed his own representative in the place of that of Bórnu, and though the eastern provinces of Korórofa itself (I mean the district inhabited by the Koána or Kwána) became afterwards tributary to Bórnu, yet the main province (or Júku Proper) with the capital Wukári, seems to have always remained strong and independent, till now, at length, it seems destined to be gradually swallowed up by the Fúlbe, if the English do not interfere. But to return to our subject. As long as Kátsena continued independent and flourishing, the town of Kanó appears never to have been an important commercial place; and it was not till after Kátsena had been occupied by the Fúlbe, and, owing to its exposed position on the northern frontier of Háusa, had become a very unsafe central point for commercial transactions, that Kanó became the great commercial entrepôt of Central Negroland. Before this time, that is to say, before the year 1807, I have strong reason to suppose that scarcely any great Arab merchant ever visited Kanó, a place which nevertheless continues till this very day to be identified with Ghána or Ghánata, a state or town expressly stated by Arab writers of the 11th century to have been the rendezvous for Arab merchants from the very first rise of commercial connections with Negroland. And all regard to historical or geographical facts is put aside merely from an absurd identification of two entirely distinct names such as Kanó and Ghána or Ghánata.

As to the period when the Kanáwa in general became[118] Mohammedans, we may fairly assume it to have been several years later than the time when Máji, the prince of Kátsena, embraced Islám, or about the 17th century, though it is evident that the larger portion of the population all over Háusa, especially that of the country towns and villages, remained addicted to paganism till the fanatic zeal of their conquerors the Fúlbe forced them to profess Islám, at least publicly. Nevertheless even at the present day there is a great deal of paganism cherished, and rites really pagan performed, in the province of Kanó as well as in that of Kátsena,—a subject on which I shall say something more on another occasion.

With regard to the growth of the town, we have express testimony that Dalá was the most ancient quarter. The steep rocky hill, about 120 feet high, naturally afforded a secure retreat to the ancient inhabitants in case of sudden attack; but it is most probable that there was another or several separate villages within the wide expanse now encompassed by the wall, which rather exceeds than falls short of fifteen English miles, and it seems inconceivable why the other hill, “Kógo-n-dútsi” (which is inclosed within the circumference of the walls) though it is not quite so well fortified by nature, should not have afforded a strong site for another hamlet. We have, indeed, no means of describing the way in which the town gradually increased to its present size; this much, however, is evident, that the inhabited quarters[119] never filled up the immense space comprised within the walls, though it is curious to observe that there are evident traces of a more ancient wall on the south side, which, as will be seen from the plan, did not describe so wide a circumference, particularly towards the south-west, where the great projecting angle seems to have been added in later times, for merely strategical purposes. The reason why the fortifications were carried to so much greater extent than the population of the town rendered necessary, was evidently to make the place capable of sustaining a long siege (sufficient ground being inclosed within the walls to produce the necessary supply of corn for the inhabitants), and also to receive the population of the open and unprotected villages in the neighbourhood. The inhabited quarter occupies at present only the south-eastern part of the town between Mount Dalá and the wall, which on this side is closely approached by the dwellings.

On the northern margin of the Jákara is the market-place, forming a large quadrangle, mostly consisting of sheds built in regular rows like streets; but the westernmost part of it forms the slaughtering-place, where numbers of cattle are daily butchered, causing an immense quantity of offal and filth to accumulate, for which there is no other outlet than the all-swallowing Jákara. It is the accumulation of this filth in the most frequented quarters of the town which makes it so unhealthy. On the north-east side of the sheds is the camel-market, where also pack-oxen are sold. The shed where the slaves are sold is at the north-west[120] corner; and thence, along the principal street, which traverses the market, is the station of the people who sell firewood. The market is generally immensely crowded during the heat of the day, and offers a most interesting scene.

The wall, just as it has been described by Captain Clapperton[29], is still kept in the best repair, and is an imposing piece of workmanship in this quarter of the world. This wall, with its gates, I have not been able to lay down with much exactness; but, from my observations on my later visit in 1854, being aware of the great inaccuracy of the little sketch of the town given by Clapperton, who himself pretends only to give an eye-sketch, I thought it worth while, with regard to a place like Kanó (which certainly will at some future period become important even for the commercial world of Europe), to survey and sketch it more minutely; and I hope my plan, together with the view taken from Mount Dalá of the southern and really-inhabited quarter of the town, will give a tolerably correct idea of its character.

The market-place is necessarily much less frequented during the rainy season, when most of the people are busy with the labours of the field. A great part of the market-place during that time is even inundated by the waters of the pond Jákara.

I now proceed to enumerate the quarters, the names of which are not without their interest. I must[121] first observe, that the quarters to the north of the great and characteristic pond Jákara, which intersects the town from east to west, are chiefly inhabited by Háusa people, or, as they are called by their conquerors, “Hábe,” from the singular “Kádo,” while the southern quarters are chiefly, but not at all exclusively, inhabited by the Fúlbe (sing. Púllo), called Féllani (sing. Baféllanchi), by the conquered race.

Beginning with Dalá, the oldest quarter of the town, and which in commercial respects is the most important one, as it is the residence of almost all the wealthy Arab and Berber (principally Ghadámsíye) merchants, I shall first proceed eastwards, then return by south to west, and so on. East-south-east, the quarter called Déndalin (the esplanade) borders on Dalá, then Kutumbáwa, Gérke, Mádabó, Ya-n-tándu, Adakáwa, Kóki, Zéta, Límanchí (or the quarter of the people of Tóto, a considerable town not far from Fánda); south from the latter, Yandówea, and thence, returning westward, Jibdji-n-Yél-labu, another Límanchí (with a large mosque), Masu-kiyáni (the quarter near the “kaswa” or market-place), Túddu-n-mákera (the quarter of the blacksmiths) on the west side of the market, Yámroché, “Marárraba bókoy” (the seven crossways), “Báki-n-rúa” (the waterside—that is, the quay along the Jákara), not very neat nor fragrant, and in this respect deserving to be compared with the quays of the Thames, which may be called, just with the same reason, the great sink of London, as the Jákara is[122] that of Kanó, the difference being only that the Thames is a running stream, while the Jákara is stagnant), “Runfáwa” (the quarter of the sheds), Yéllwá. Here, turning again eastwards, we come first to the quarter Ríma-n-jirájiré, then enter Mággoga, then Maggógi, Ungwa-n-kári, Déndali-n-Wáre, Límanchí (a third quarter of this name), Dukkuráwa, Rúffogí, Dérma. All these are quarters of the Hábe, where no Púllo, as far as I am aware, would deign to live. Beyond the Jákara we now come to the quarters of the ruling race, proceeding from west to east.

Yaálewa, Mármara, Ágadesáwa (a quarter belonging originally to the natives of Ágades), Yóla—the princely quarter of the town, and called on this account “mádaki-n-Kanó.” It is interesting also as having given its name to the new capital of Adamáwa, (the natives of Negroland being not less anxious than Europeans to familiarize the new regions which they colonize by names taken from their ancient homes); el Kántara (so called from a rough kind of bridge, or kadárko, thrown over one of those numerous pools which intersect the town), Wuaitákka, Go-shérifé-dodó (a quarter, the name of which is taken from the ancient pagan worship of the “dodó),” Tókobá, Dukkáwa, Zaghidámse, Sháfushí. Returning from east to west we have the quarters Shérbalé, Mádaté, Kúrna, Sheshé, “Dirmí (or dírremi)-kay okú” (called from a tree of the dírremi species, with three separate crowns), Lelóki-n-lemú, Kóllwá al héndeki, Sóra-n-dínki,[123] Rími-n-kóro, Tojí, Yárkasá, Mándáwari, Mármara (different from the quarter mentioned above), Dantúrku, Sabansára, Kudedefáwa, Jingo, Doséyi, Warúre, Gʿao (an interesting name, identical with that of the capital of the Sónghay empire), Kurmáwa, Háusáwa, Ungwa Mákama, Ghaladánchi (the quarter wherein resides the ghaladíma), Shúramchí (the quarter where lives the eldest son of the governor, whose title chiróma—a Kanúri name—in the corrupted form of “shúromo” has furnished the name of the quarter), Ye-serkí, Kurmáwa (not identical with the above), “Kusseráwa” (the corner), Udeláwa. South from the palace of the governor, Rími-n-kerá, Káraká, Dugeráwa, Yákase, Naseráwa (most probably destined to be hereafter the quarter of the Nasára or Christians), and ʿAbdeláwa.

All over the town, clay houses and huts, with thatched conical roofs, are mixed together; but generally in the southern quarter the latter prevail. The clay houses, as far as I have seen them in Dalá, where of course Arab influence predominates, are built in a most uncomfortable style, with no other purpose than that of obtaining the greatest possible privacy for domestic life, without any attempt to provide for the influx of fresh air and light, although I must admit that a few houses are built in somewhat better taste; but invariably the courtyard is extremely small, and in this respect the houses of Kanó are very inferior to those of Ágades and Timbúktu, which are built almost on the same principle as the dwellings of the[124] ancient Greeks and Romans. I here give the ground-plan of the house in which I lodged in 1851.

Almost all these houses have also a very irregular upper story on a different level, and very badly aired. Many of the Arabs sleep on their terraces.

In estimating the population of the town at 30,000, I am certainly not above the truth. Captain Clapperton estimated it at from 30,000 to 40,000. The population, as might be expected in a place of great commercial resort, is of a rather mixed nature; but the chief elements in it are Kanúri or Bórnu people, Háusáwa, Fúlbe or Féllani, and Nyffáwa or Núpe; a good many Arabs also reside there, who by their commerce and their handicraft contribute a great deal to the importance of the place. The influx of foreigners and temporary residents is occasionally very great, so that the whole number of residents during the most busy time of the year (that is to say from January to April) may often amount to 60,000. The number of domestic slaves, of course, is very considerable; but I think it hardly equals, certainly does not exceed, that of the free men, for, while the wealthy have many slaves, the poorer class, which is[125] far more numerous, have few or none. It would be very interesting to arrive at an exact estimate of the numbers of the conquering nation, in order to see the proportion in which they stand to the conquered. As for the town itself, their whole number, of every sex and age, does not, in my opinion, exceed 4000; but with regard to the whole country I can give no opinion.

The principal commerce of Kanó consists in native produce, namely, the cotton cloth woven and dyed here or in the neighbouring towns, in the form of tobes or rígona (sing. ríga); túrkedí, or the oblong piece of dress of dark-blue colour worn by the women; the zénne[30] or plaid, of various colours; and the ráwani bakí, or black lithám.

[126]The great advantage of Kanó is, that commerce and manufactures go hand in hand, and that almost every family has its share in them. There is really something grand in this kind of industry, which spreads to the north as far as Múrzuk, Ghát, and even Tripoli; to the west, not only to Timbúktu, but in some degree even as far as the shores of the Atlantic, the very inhabitants of Arguin dressing in the cloth woven and dyed in Kanó; to the east, all over Bórnu, although there it comes into contact with the native industry of the country; and to the south it maintains a rivalry with the native industry of the Ígbira and Ígbo, while towards the south-east it invades the whole of ʿAdamáwa, and is only limited by the nakedness of the pagan sans-culottes, who do not wear clothing.

As for the supply sent to Timbúktu, this is a fact entirely overlooked in Europe, where people speak continually of the fine cotton cloth produced in that town, while in truth all the apparel of a decent character in Timbúktu is brought either from Kanó or from Sansándi; and how urgently this article is there demanded is amply shown by the immense circuit which the merchandise makes to avoid the great dangers of the direct road from Kanó to Timbúktu[127] travelled by me, the merchandise of Kanó being first carried up to Ghát and even Ghadámes, and thence taking its way to Timbúktu by Tawát.

I make the lowest estimate in rating this export to Timbúktu alone at three hundred camel-loads annually, worth 60,000,000 kurdí in Kanó—an amount which entirely remains in the country, and redounds to the benefit of the whole population, both cotton and indigo being produced and prepared in the country. In taking a general view of the subject, I think myself justified in estimating the whole produce of this manufacture, as far as it is sold abroad, at the very least at about 300,000,000; and how great this national wealth is, will be understood by my readers when they know that, with from fifty to sixty thousand kurdí, or from four to five pounds sterling a year, a whole family may live in that country with ease, including every expense, even that of their clothing: and we must remember that the province is one of the most fertile spots on the earth, and is able to produce not only the supply of corn necessary for its population, but can also export, and that it possesses, besides, the finest pasture-grounds. In fact, if we consider that this industry is not carried on here as in Europe, in immense establishments, degrading man to the meanest condition of life, but that it gives employment and support to families without compelling them to sacrifice their domestic habits, we must presume that Kanó ought to be one of the happiest[128] countries in the world; and so it is as long as its governor, too often lazy and indolent, is able to defend its inhabitants from the cupidity of their neighbours, which of course is constantly stimulated by the very wealth of this country.

Besides the cloth produced and dyed in Kanó and in the neighbouring villages, there is a considerable commerce carried on here with the cloth manufactured in Nýffi or Núpe, which, however, extends only to the first and the third of the articles above mentioned, viz., the “ríga,” or shirt worn by men, and the “zénne,” or plaid; for the Nyffáwa are unable to produce either túrkedí or ráwaní—at least for export, while they seem, with the exception of the wealthier classes, to supply their own wants themselves. The tobes brought from Nýffi are either large black ones, or of mixed silk and cotton.

With regard to the former, which are called “gíwa” (the elephant’s shirt), I am unable to say why the Kanáwa are not capable of manufacturing them themselves; but it seems that, while they thoroughly understand how to impart the most beautiful dye to the túrkedí, they are unable to apply the same to the ríga—I do not know why.

Of the latter kind there are several varieties:—the ríga sáki, with small squares blue and white, as if speckled, and therefore called by the Arabs “fílfil” (pepper), and by the Tawárek, who, as I have mentioned, esteem it more than any other kind, the “Guinea-fowl[129] shirt” (tekátkat taílelt), as shown in the accompanying woodcut, is very becoming, and was my ordinary dress from the moment I was rich enough to purchase it, as a good one fetches as much as from eighteen to twenty thousand kurdí; then the tob-harír, with stripes of speckled cast like the taílelt, but intermixed with red; the jellába, red and white, with embroidery of green silk, and several others. Specimens of all these I have brought home and delivered to the Foreign Office.[31]

The chief articles of native industry, besides cloth,[130] which have a wide market, are principally sandals. The sandals are made with great neatness, and, like the cloth, are exported to an immense distance; but being a cheap article (the very best, which are called “táka-sárakí,” fetching only 200 kurdí), they bear of course no comparison in importance with the former. I estimate this branch at ten millions. It is very curious that the shoes made here by Arab shoemakers, of Sudán leather, and called “bélghʿa,” are exported in great quantities to North Africa. The “nesísa,” or twisted leather strap, is a celebrated article of Kanó manufacture, and “jebíras,” richly ornamented, as the accompanying woodcut shows, are made by Arab workmen.

The other leather-work I will not mention here, as it does not form a great article of commerce; but tanned hides (“kulábu”) and red sheepskins, dyed with a juice extracted from the stalks of the holcus, are not unimportant, being sent in great quantities even as far as Tripoli. I value the amount of export at about five millions.[32]

[131]Besides these manufactures, the chief article of African produce in the Kanó market is the “gúro,” or kola-nut; but while on the one hand it forms an important article of transit, and brings considerable profit, on the other large sums are expended by the natives upon this luxury, which has become to them as necessary as coffee or tea to us. On another occasion I shall enumerate the different kinds of this nut, and the seasons when it is collected. The import of this nut into Kanó, comprising certainly more than five hundred ass-loads every year, the load of each, if safely brought to the market—for it is a very delicate article, and very liable to spoil—being sold for about 200,000 kurdí, will amount to an average of from eighty to one hundred millions. Of this sum, I think we shall be correct in asserting about half to be paid for by the natives of the province, while the other half will be profit.

But we must bear in mind that the greater part of the persons employed in this trade are Kanáwa, and that therefore they and their families subsist upon this branch of trade.

A very important branch of the native commerce in Kanó is certainly the slave-trade; but it is extremely difficult to say how many of these unfortunate creatures[132] are exported, as a greater number are carried away by small caravans to Bórnu and Núpe than on the direct road to Ghát and Fezzán. Altogether, I do not think that the number of slaves annually exported from Kanó exceeds[33] 5,000; but of course a considerable number are sold into domestic slavery either to the inhabitants of the province itself, or to those of the adjoining districts. The value of this trade, of which only a small percentage falls to the profit of the Kanáwa, besides the tax which is levied in the market, may altogether amount to from a hundred and fifty to two hundred millions of kurdí per annum.

Another important branch of the commerce of Kanó is the transit of natron from Bórnu to Núpe or Nýffi, which here always passes into other hands, and in so doing leaves a considerable profit in the place. The merchandise is very cheap; but the quantity is great, and it employs a great many persons, as I shall have ample occasion to illustrate in the course of my proceedings. Twenty thousand loads, at the very least, between pack-oxen, sumpter-horses, and asses, of natron must annually pass through the market of Kanó; which, at 500 kurdí per load, merely for passage-money, would give 10,000,000 kurdí.

I here also mention the salt-trade, which is entirely an import one, the salt being almost all consumed in the province. Of the three thousand camel-loads of[133] salt which I have above computed as comprising the aïri with which I reached Kátsena, we may suppose one-third to be sold in the province of Kanó; and therefore that hereby a value of from fifty to eighty millions annually is drained from the country. But we must not forget that the money which is paid for this requisite (and not only for that consumed in Kanó, but also in other provinces) is entirely laid out by the sellers in buying the produce of Kanó; viz., cloth and corn. Here, therefore, is an absolute balance—a real exchange of necessaries and wants.

As for ivory, at present it does not form a very important branch of the commerce of Kanó; and I scarcely believe that more than one hundred kantárs pass through this place. The lowest price of the kantár is in general thirty dollars, or 75,000 kurdí; but it often rises to forty dollars, or 100,000 kurdí, and even more, though I have seen it bought with ready money for twenty-five dollars.

Of European goods the greatest proportion is still imported by the northern road, while the natural road, by way of the great eastern branch of the so-called Niger, will and must, in the course of events, be soon opened.

But I must here speak about a point of very great importance for the English, both as regards their honour and their commercial activity. The final opening of the lower course of the Kwára has been[134] one of the most glorious achievements of English discovery, bought with the lives of so many enterprising men. But it seems that the English are more apt to perform a great deed than to follow up its consequences. After they have opened this noble river to the knowledge of Europe, frightened by the sacrifice of a few lives, instead of using it themselves for the benefit of the nations of the interior, they have allowed it to fall into the hands of the American slave-dealers, who have opened a regular annual slave-trade with those very regions, while the English seem not to have even the slightest idea of such a traffic going on. Thus American produce, brought in large quantities to the market of Núpe, has begun to inundate Central Africa, to the great damage of the commerce and the most unqualified scandal of the Arabs, who think that the English, if they would, could easily prevent it. For this is not a legitimate commerce; it is nothing but slave-traffic on a large scale, the Americans taking nothing in return for their merchandise and their dollars but slaves, besides a small quantity of natron. On this painful subject I have written repeatedly to H.M.’s consul in Tripoli, and to H.M.’s government, and I have spoken energetically about it to Lord Palmerston since my return. I principally regret in this respect the death of Mr. Richardson, who, in his eloquent language, would have dealt worthily with this question. But even from his unfinished journals as they have been published, it is clear that, during his short[135] stay in the country before he was doomed to succumb, he became well aware of what was going on.[34]

The principal European goods brought to the market of Kanó are bleached and unbleached calicoes, and cotton prints from Manchester; French silks and sugar; red cloth from Saxony and other parts of Europe; beads from Venice and Trieste; a very coarse kind of silk from Trieste; common paper with the sign of three moons, looking-glasses, needles, and small ware, from Nuremberg; sword blades from Solingen; razors from Styria. It is very remarkable that so little English merchandise is seen in this great emporium of Negroland, which lies so near to the two branches of “the Great River” of Western Africa, calico and muslins (or tanjips, as they are called by the merchants) being almost the only English articles. Calico certainly is not the thing most wanted in a country where home-made cloth is produced at so cheap a rate, and of so excellent a quality; indeed the unbleached calico has a very poor chance in Kanó, while the bleached calico and the cambric attract the wealthier[136] people on account of their nobler appearance. In Timbúktu on the contrary, where the native cloth is dearer, unbleached calico is in request; and it would be so in an extraordinary degree, if it were dyed dark blue. It is very interesting to observe that a small proportion of the calico imported into Kanó is again exported, after having been dyed, returning even the long way to Ghadámes. I estimate the whole amount of Manchester goods imported into Kanó at about forty millions; but it may be somewhat more. The sale of tanjips is very considerable; and the import of this article into Kanó certainly equals in value that of the former.

The very coarse silk, or rather refuse, which is dyed in Tripoli, is imported to a very considerable amount, this forming the principal merchandise of most of the caravans of the Ghadámsíye merchants, and about one third of their whole commerce, amounting certainly to not less than from three to four hundred camel-loads annually, worth in Kanó each about 200,000 kurdí; this would give a value of about seventy millions imported. But according to some well-informed people, even as many as one thousand loads of this article pass annually through Ghadámes; so that, if we take into consideration that the supply of the northerly markets (as Tasáwa, Zínder) may well be compensated by what is brought by way of Múrzuk, the value of the import of this article into Kanó may be much more. A great deal of this silk, I have no doubt by far the greatest part,[137] remains in the country, being used for ornamenting the tobes, sandals, shoes, and other things.

Woollen cloth of the most ordinary quality, chiefly red, but about one third of the whole amount of green colour, was formerly imported to a great extent; but it has gone out of fashion, and I think a better quality, like that with which the market of Timbúktu is supplied by way of Mogador or Swaira, would succeed. I estimate this branch at present at only fifteen millions.

Beads, in very great variety[35], form an important article of import; but the price has become so low of late years that there has been very little profit, and the supply has been kept back to raise the prices. The import of this article certainly amounts to more than fifty millions of kurdí, of which sum the value of twenty may remain in the country.

Of sugar, I think about one hundred camel-loads are imported every year, each containing eighty small loaves, of two and a half pounds each, which are sold in general at 1500 kurdí; so that the import of this article would amount to about twelve millions. It is very remarkable that in all Central Negroland the large English sugarloaf is scarcely ever seen, while it is the only one seen in Timbúktu. However, I was greatly surprised when, on my return from that place in 1854, ʿAlíyu, the Emír el Mumenín of[138] Sókoto, presented to me an English loaf of sugar; and I heard that he had received several of them as presents from a merchant of Tawát. The small loaf has certainly a great advantage in such a country, where money is scarce; and I found in 1854 that its weight had even been reduced to two pounds.

Common paper, called on the coast “tre lune,” from the mark of three moons which it bears, is imported in great quantity, being used for wrapping up the country cloth; but it is a bulky, heavy article, and in larger quantities is sold at a very cheap rate. The whole amount of this import may be about five millions of kurdí.

Needles, with the emblem of the pig[36], and small looking-glasses called “lemmʿa,” in boxes, form important but very cheap articles, and I think their amount together will not much exceed the value of eight millions. Generally, the needles in large quantities are sold for one “urí” or shell each, but often even cheaper; and I was obliged to sell a thousand for six hundred kurdí. Also, fine needles for silk-work are in request, but only in small quantity, while large darning-needles are not at all wanted here, where the cotton cloth is fine, but are the most profitable thing in Eastern Negroland, from Bagírmi inclusive to Abyssinia.

Sword-blades, which are set here, are imported in considerable quantity; as not only the Kél-owí and[139] the neighbouring Tárki tribes, but also the Háusáwa, Fúlbe, Nyffáwa, and Kanúri or Bórnu people, are supplied from this market. Fifty thousand may be the general annual amount of this article, which produces (the blade being reckoned at one thousand kurdí) fifty millions. Almost all of them that I saw, not only here, but even among the Tawárek near Timbúktu, were from Solingen. Only a small proportion of the import remains in the country; but the setting of the blades, which are again exported, secures a great profit to the natives.

Very few fire-arms, as far as I became aware, are imported into this market, although common muskets have begun to be imported by way of Nýffi at extraordinarily cheap prices by the Americans. Pistols and blunderbusses are privately sold by the merchants to princes or great men.

The common razors, made in Styria, with black wooden handles, bad as they are, are very much liked by the inhabitants, who know how to sharpen them most beautifully, and strengthen the wretched handle with a guard of copper. I had a tolerable supply of English razors, and found that those bought for sixpence at home would sell profitably, but that nobody would give, for a good razor, though ever so excellent, more than one thousand kurdí; however, the better sort are very fit for presents to men of importance, who know well their value. In any case the handles ought to be strong, and not likely to[140] break. This commodity does certainly not much exceed two or three millions.

French silks, called “hattáya,” were formerly in great request, but at present seem to be a little out of vogue; and most of what is imported here is exported again by second-hand buyers to Yóruba and Gónja. The amount of this import into the Kanó market, I think, does not exceed twenty millions.

An important branch of import is formed by articles of Arab dress, chiefly bernúses, caftans, sedríyas, trowsers, red caps, red sashes, shawls. It is difficult to state, even approximately, the value of these articles; but it cannot certainly be much less than fifty millions altogether. The sort of dress most in request comes from Tunis, but a good deal also from Egypt; and from the latter country come all the white shawls with red borders, called “subéta” in Arabic, “aliyáfu” in Háusa, and very much liked by the negroes as well as by the Tawárek. The import of this article alone exceeds the value of ten millions. The common articles of dress, of coarser workmanship, are made in Tripoli. Red caps of very coarse description are now imported from Leghorn, and find a sale, but are not liked by the free people.

Frankincense and spices—principally jáwi, benzoin, the resin obtained from a species of styrax, “símbil” or Valeriana Celtica, and cloves—form a not inconsiderable article of import, perhaps amounting to fifteen millions. However, I exclude from this sum the[141] value of the rose-oil which is annually imported in considerable quantity, and, being a dear article, forms also an important one; but very little of it comes into the general trade, almost all of it being disposed of privately to the princes and great men, or given to them in presents. I am inclined to estimate the value of this article imported at about forty millions. Tin and many other smaller articles may together be estimated at ten millions.

In the trade of Kanó there is another very interesting article, which tends to unite very distant regions of Africa; this is copper—“ja-n-kárfi.” A good deal of old copper—say fifty loads, together with about twenty loads of zinc—is imported from Tripoli; but a considerable supply of this useful and handsome metal is also imported every year by the Jellába of Nímro in Wadáy, who bring it from the celebrated copper-mine, “el hófra,” situate to the south of Dar-Fúr, of which I shall have occasion to speak in the following volume.[37] I estimate the whole import of this metal at about from fifteen to twenty millions; but it is to be remarked that, so far from being to the disadvantage of the Kanáwa, it proves a new material of industry, while only the smaller part remains in the country.

[142]With regard to the precious metals, a small supply of silver is imported by the merchants, but rather exceptionally, most of the latter being but agents or commissioners engaged to effect the sale of the merchandise forwarded from Tripoli and Fezzán. The silver likewise supplies a branch of industry, the silversmiths, who are generally identical with the blacksmiths, being very clever in making rings and anklets. In Kanó scarcely any tradesman will object to receive a dollar in payment. With regard to iron, which forms a very considerable branch of industry in the place, I will only say that it is far inferior to that of Wándala or Mándara and Bubanjídda, which I shall mention in the course of my proceedings. Spears, daggers, hoes, and stirrups are the articles most extensively produced in iron.

As for gold, though a general standard, of the mithkál at four thousand kurdí, is usually maintained, in Timbúktu its price greatly varies, from three thousand five hundred up to four thousand five hundred kurdí; but this unreasonable fluctuation is but nominal, gold being scarcely ever bought in Timbúktu for ready money, but for túrkedís, when a túrkedí bought in Kanó for eighteen hundred, or at the utmost two thousand, fetches there a mithkál. One hundred mithkáls of gold may easily be bought in Kanó at any time. Even the common currency of the Kanó market, the “urí” (pl. kurdí) or shell (Cypræa moneta), 2,500 of which are equal to the[143] Spanish or Austrian dollar[38], forms an important article of import and commerce, though I have not been able to ascertain that a large quantity is ever introduced at a time. Nevertheless that must sometimes happen, as a great amount of shells has been exported to Bórnu, where they have been recently introduced as currency; and this obviously explains why since the year 1848 the demand for these shells has so greatly increased on the coast.

These merely approximative figures cannot be reduced to the form of a balance-sheet; but they will give a general idea of the commercial activity of the place. I will conclude these few remarks by observing that the market of Kanó is better supplied with articles of food than any other market in Negroland; but meat as well as corn is dearer here than in Kúkawa, particularly the latter. Besides the great market-place, there are several smaller ones dispersed through the town, the most noted of which are the káswa-n-kurmí, Mandáweli, Hanga, káswa-n-máta, káswa-n-áyagi, káswa-n-Jírba, káswa-n-Yákase, káswa-n-kófan Wámbay, and the káswa-n-kófan Náyisa.

The province of Kanó[39], which comprises a very fertile district of considerable extent, contains, according to my computation, more than two hundred[144] thousand free people, besides at least an equal number of slaves; so that the whole population of the province amounts to more than half a million; though it may greatly exceed this number. The governor is able to raise an army of seven thousand horse, and more than twenty thousand men on foot. In the most flourishing state of the country, the governor of Kanó is said to have been able to bring into the field as many as ten thousand horse.

The tribute which he levies is very large, considering the state of the country, amounting altogether to about one hundred millions of kurdí, besides the presents received from merchants. The most considerable item of his revenue consists in the “kurdí-n-kása” (what is called in Kanúri “lárderám”), or the ground-rent. It is said to amount to ninety millions, and is levied, both here and in the province of Kátsena, not from the ground under cultivation, but every head of a family has to pay two thousand five hundred kurdí, or just a Spanish dollar; in the province of Zégzeg, on the contrary, the kurdí-n-kása is a tax of five hundred kurdí levied on every fertáña or hoe, and a single hoe will cultivate a piece of ground capable of producing from one hundred to two hundred “démmi” or sheaves of grain (sorghum and pennisetum), each of which contains two kél, while fifty kél are reckoned sufficient for a man’s sustenance during a whole year. Besides the kurdí-n-kása, the governor levies an annual tax called[145] “kurdí-n-korófi,” of seven hundred kurdí[40] on every dyeing-pot or korófi, of which there are more than two thousand in the town alone; a “fítto” of five hundred kurdí on every slave sold in the market; an annual tax, “kurdí-n-debíno,” of six hundred kurdí on every palm-tree, and a small tax called “kurdí-n-ráfi” on the vegetables sold in the market, such as dánkali or sweet potatoes, gwáza or yams, rísga, rógo, &c. This latter tax is very singular, as the meat, or the cattle brought into the town, as far as I know, does not pay any tax at all. Clapperton was mistaken in stating that all the date-trees in the town belong to the governor, which is not more true than that all the sheds in the market belong to him.

The authority of the governor is not absolute, even without considering the appeal which lies to his liege lord in Sókoto or Wúrno, if the subjects’ complaints can be made to reach so far; a sort of ministerial council is formed, to act in conjunction with the governor, which in important cases he cannot well avoid consulting. At the head of this council stands the ghaladíma, whose office originated, as we shall see, in the empire of Bórnu, and who very often exercises, as is the case in Kanó, the highest influence, surpassing that of the governor himself; then follows the “serkí-n-dáwakay” (the master of the horse), an important charge in barbarous countries, where victory depends almost always on the cavalry; then[146] the “bánda-n-Kanó” (a sort of commander-in-chief); then the “alkáli” or chief justice, the “chiróma-n-Kanó” (the eldest son of the governor, or some one assuming this title), who exercises the chief power in the southern part of the province; the “serkí-n-báy” (properly, the chief of the slaves), who has the inspection of the northern districts of the province as far as Kazáure; then the “gadó” or lord of the treasury, and finally the “serkí-n-sháno” (the master of the oxen, or rather the quartermaster-general), who has all the military stores under his care; for the ox, or rather the bull, is the ordinary beast of burden in Negroland. It is characteristic that, when the governor is absent paying his homage to his liege lord, it is not the ghaladíma, but the gadó and the serkí-n-sháno who are his lieutenants or substitutes.

With regard to the government in general, I think, in this province, where there is so much lively intercourse, and where publicity is given very soon to every incident, it is not oppressive, though the behaviour of the ruling class is certainly haughty, and there is, no doubt, a great deal of injustice inflicted in small matters. The etiquette of the court, which is far more strict than in Sókoto, must prevent any poor man from entering the presence of the governor. The Fúlbe marry the handsome daughters of the subjugated tribe, but would not condescend to give their own daughters to the men of that tribe as wives. As far as I saw, their original type has been well preserved as yet, though, by obtaining[147] possession of wealth and comfort, their warlike character has been greatly impaired, and the Féllani-n-Kanó have become notorious for their cowardice throughout the whole of Negroland.[41]

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[148]CHAP. XXVI.

STARTING FOR KÚKAWA. — THE FRONTIER-DISTRICT.

Sunday, March 9th.The traveller who would leave a place where he has made a long residence, often finds that his departure involves him in a great deal of trouble, and is by no means an easy affair. Moreover my situation when, after much delay, I was about to leave Kanó was peculiarly embarrassing. There was no caravan; the road was infested by robbers; and I had only one servant upon whom I could rely, or who was really attached to me, while I had been so unwell the preceding day as to be unable to rise from my couch. However, I was full of confidence; and with the same delight with which a bird springs forth from its cage, I hastened to escape from these narrow, dirty mud-walls into the boundless creation.

There being scarcely any one to assist my faithful Gatróni, the loading of my three camels took an immense time, and the horseman destined to accompany me to the frontier of the Kanó territory grew rather impatient. At length, at about two o’clock in the[149] afternoon, I mounted my unsightly black four-dollar nag, and following my companion, who (in a showy dress, representing very nearly the German costume about the time of the Thirty Years’ war, and well mounted), gave himself all possible airs of dignity, started forth from the narrow streets of Dalá into the open fields.

I felt my heart lightened, and, forgetting what had passed, began to think only of the wide field now opening before me, if fresh means should reach us in Kúkawa. We had taken a very circuitous road in order to pass through the widest of the fourteen gates of the town: but the long passage through the wall was too narrow for my unwieldy luggage; and my impatient, self-conceited companion fell into despair, seeing that we should be unable to reach the night’s quarters destined for us. At length all was again placed upon the patient animals; and my noble Bu-Séfi taking the lead of the short string of my caravan, we proceeded onwards, keeping at a short distance from the wall, till we reached the highroad from the kófa-n-Wámbay. Here too is a considerable estate belonging to a ba-Ásbenchí (a man from Ásben), who has a company of slaves always residing here. Going slowly on through the well-cultivated country, we reached a small watercourse. Being anxious to know in what direction the torrent had its discharge, and unable to make it out from my own observation, I took the liberty of asking my companion;[150] but the self-conceited courtier, though born a slave, thought himself insulted by such a question, and by the presumption that he ever paid attention to such trivial things as the direction of a watercourse, or the name of a village!

Having watered our horses here, I and my friend went on in advance, to secure quarters for the night, and chose them in a small hamlet, where, after some resistance, a mʿallem gave us up part of his courtyard surrounded with a fence of the stalks of Guinea corn. When the camels came up we pitched our tent. The boy ʿAbd-Alla, however, seeing that my party was so small, and fearing that we should have some misadventure, had run away and returned to Kanó.

Though there was much talk of thieves, who indeed infest the whole neighbourhood of this great market-town, and, excited by the hope of remaining unpunished under an indolent government, very often carry off camels during the night even from the middle of the town, we passed a tranquil night, and got off at a tolerably early hour the next morning. The character of the country is almost the same as that during our last day’s march in coming from Kátsena, small clusters of huts and detached farms being spread about over the cultivated country, where we observed also some tobacco-fields just in flower: my attention was more attracted by a small range of hills in the distance on our left. I was also[151] astonished at the little traffic which I observed on this route, though we met a considerable natron-caravan coming from Zínder, the ass and the bullock going on peaceably side by side, as is always the case in Negroland. The country continued to improve; and the fields of Charó, shaded as they were by luxuriant trees, looked fertile and well cared for, while the clusters of neat huts scattered all about had an air of comfort. Here we ought to have passed the previous night; and my companion had gone in advance to deliver his order, and probably to get a good luncheon instead of his missed supper. Beyond this village, or rather district, cultivation seemed to be less careful; but perhaps the reason was only that the villages were further from the road.

The quiet course of domestic slavery has very little to offend the mind of the traveller; the slave is generally well treated, is not over worked, and is very often considered as a member of the family. Scenes caused by the running away of a slave in consequence of bad and severe treatment occur every day with the Arabs, who generally sell their slaves, even those whom they have had some time, as soon as occasion offers; but with the natives they are very rare. However, I was surprised at observing so few home-born slaves in Negroland—with the exception of the Tawárek, who seem to take great pains to rear slaves—and I have come to the conclusion, that marriage among domestic slaves is very little[152] encouraged by the natives; indeed I think myself justified in supposing that a slave is very rarely allowed to marry. This is an important circumstance in considering domestic slavery in Central Africa; for if these domestic slaves do not of themselves maintain their numbers, then the deficiency arising from ordinary mortality must constantly be kept up by a new supply, which can only be obtained by kidnapping or, more generally, by predatory incursions, and it is this necessity which makes even domestic slavery appear so baneful and pernicious. The motive for making these observations in this place was the sight of a band of slaves, whom we met this morning, led on in two files, and fastened one to the other by a strong rope round the neck.

Our march was to be but a short one, as we were to pass the remainder of the day and the following night in Gezáwa; and as it was still long before noon, and we had the hottest time of the day before us, I was anxious to encamp outside the town in the shade of some fine tree, but my escort would not allow me to do so. We therefore entered the town, which is surrounded with a clay wall in tolerable repair, and moreover by a small ditch on the outside; but the interior presents a desolate aspect, only about a third part of the space being occupied by detached cottages. Here I was lodged in a small hot shíbki (reed hut), and passed the “éni” most uncomfortably, cursing my companion and all the escorts in the world, and resolved never again to take up my quarters[153] inside a town, except where I was to make a stay of some length. I was therefore delighted, in the course of the afternoon, to hear from the man who had taken the camels outside the town upon the pasture-ground, that the sheríf Konché had arrived and sent me his compliments.

I had once seen this man in Kanó, and had been advised to wait for him, as he was likewise on his way to Kúkawa; but knowing how slow Arabs are, and little suspecting what a sociable and amiable man he was, I thought it better to go on; whereupon he, thinking that my company was preferable to a longer stay, hastened to follow me. To-day, however, I did not see him, as he had encamped outside the town; still I had already much reason to thank him, as he had brought back my fickle runaway servant ʿAbd-Alla, whom after some reprimand, and a promise on his side to remain with me in future, I took back, as I was very much in want of a servant. He was a native of the country, a Baháushe with a little Arab blood in him, and had been reduced to slavery. Afterwards, in Bórnu, a man claimed him as his property. His mother, who was living not far from Gérki, was also about this time carried into slavery, having gone to some village where she was kidnapped. Such things are of daily occurrence in these countries on the borders of two territories. The lad’s sister had a similar fate.

The inhabitants of Gezáwa seem to be devoted almost entirely to cattle-breeding; and in the market[154] which was held to-day (as it is every Monday) outside the town, nothing else was offered for sale but cattle and sheep, scarcely a piece of cotton cloth being laid out, and very little corn. Also round the town there are scarcely any traces of cultivation. The mayor seemed not to be in very enviable circumstances, and bore evident traces of sorrow and anxiety; indeed the laziness and indolence of the governor of Kanó in neglecting the defence of the wealth and the national riches of his province are incredible, and can only be tolerated by a liege lord just as lazy and indifferent as himself. But at that period the country still enjoyed some tranquillity and happiness, while from the day on which the rebel Bokhári took possession of Khadéja, as I shall soon have occasion to relate, the inhabitants of all the eastern part of this beautiful province underwent daily vexations, so that the towns on this road were quite deserted when I passed a second time through this country, in December, 1854.

Early next morning we loaded our camels and left the town, in order to join our new travelling companion, who by this time had also got ready his little troop. It consisted of himself on horseback, his “sirríya,” likewise on horseback, three female attendants, six natives, and as many sumpter oxen. He himself was a portly Arab, with fine, sedate manners, such as usually distinguish wealthy people of the Gharb (Morocco); for he was a native of Fás, and though in reality not a sheríf (though the title of a[155] sheríf in Negroland means scarcely anything but an impudent, arrogant beggar), yet, by his education and fine, noble character, he deserved certainly to be called a gentleman. The name “Konché” (Mr. Sleep) had been given to him by the natives, from his very reasonable custom of sleeping, or pretending to sleep, the whole day during the Rhamadán, which enabled him to bear the fasting more easily. His real name was ʿAbd el Khafíf.

Our first salutation was rather cold; but we soon became friends; and I must say of him that he was the most noble Arab merchant I have seen in Negroland. Though at present he had not much merchandise of value with him, he was a wealthy man, and had enormous demands upon several governors and princes in Negroland, especially upon Múniyóma, or the governor of Múniyo, who was indebted to him for about thirty millions—shells, of course, but nevertheless a very large sum in this country. Of his “sirríya,” who always rode at a respectful distance behind him, I cannot speak, as she was veiled from top to toe; but if a conclusion might be drawn from her attendants, who were very sprightly, well-formed young girls, she must have been handsome. The male servants of my new friend were all characteristically dressed, and armed in the native fashion with bows and arrows,—knapsacks, water-bottles, and drinking-vessels all hanging around them in picturesque confusion; but among them there was a remarkable fellow, who had already[156] given me great surprise in Kanó. When lying one day in a feverish state on my hard couch, I heard myself saluted in Romaic or modern Greek. The man who thus addressed me had long whiskers, and was as black as any negro. But I had some difficulty in believing him to be a native of Negroland. Yet such he was, though by a stay in Stambúl of some twenty years, from his boyhood, he had not only learned the language perfectly, but also adopted the manners, and I might almost say the features, of the modern Greeks.

In such company we continued pleasantly on, sometimes through a cultivated country, at others through underwood, meeting now and then a motley caravan of horses, oxen, and asses, all laden with natron, and coming from Múniyo. Once there was also a mule with the other beasts of burden; and on inquiry, on this occasion, I learnt that this animal, which I had supposed to be frequent in Negroland, is very rare, at least in these parts, and in Kanó always fetches the high price of from sixty to eighty thousand kurdí, which is just double the rate of a camel. In Wángara and Gónja the mule seems to be more frequent. But there is only one in Kúkawa and in Timbúktu, the latter belonging to one of the richest Morocco merchants.

Animated scenes succeeded each other:—now a well, where the whole population of a village or zángo were busy in supplying their wants for the day; then another, where a herd of cattle was just being[157] watered; a beautiful tamarind-tree spreading a shady canopy over a busy group of talkative women selling victuals, ghussub-water, and sourmilk, or “cotton.” About ten o’clock detached dúm-palms began to impart to the landscape a peculiar character, as we approached the considerable but open place Gabezáwa, which at present exhibited the busy and animated scene of a well-frequented market. In this country the market-days of the towns succeed each other by turns, so that all the inhabitants of a considerable district can take advantage every day of the traffic in the peculiar article in which each of these places excels.

While pushing our way through the rows of well-stocked sheds, I became aware that we were approaching the limits of the Kanúri language; for being thirsty, I wished to buy ghussub-water (“furá” in Háusa), but in asking for it, received from the women fresh butter (“fulá” in Kanúri), and had some difficulty in making them understand that I did not want the latter. Continuing our march without stopping, we reached at noon the well-known (that is to say, among the travelling natives) camping-ground of Kúka mairuá, an open place surrounded by several colossal specimens of the monkey-bread tree, kúka or Adansonia digitata, which all over this region of Central Africa are not of that low, stunted growth which seems to be peculiar to them near the coast, but in general attain to a height of from sixty to eighty feet. Several troops of native traders were already encamped[158] here, while a string of some thirty camels, most of them unloaded, and destined to be sold in Kanó, had just arrived. A wide-spreading tamarind-tree formed a natural roof over a busy market-scene, where numbers of women were selling all the eatables and delicacies of the country. The village lay to the south-east. Here we pitched our tents close together, as robbers and thieves are very numerous in the neighbourhood; and I fired repeatedly during the night, a precaution which the event proved to be not at all useless. The name of the place signifies “the Adansonia with the water.” However, the latter part of the name seemed rather ironical, as I had to pay forty kurdí for filling a waterskin and for watering my horse and my camels; and I would therefore not advise a future traveller to go to a neighbouring village, which bears the name of “Kuka maífurá,” in the belief that he may find there plenty of cheap furá or ghussub-water.

Wednesday, March 12th.Our encampment was busy from the very first dawn of day, and exhibited strong proof of industry on the part of the natives; for even at this hour women were offering ready-cooked pudding as a luncheon to the travellers. Some of our fellow-sleepers on this camping-ground started early; and the two Welád Slimán also, who led the string of camels, started off most imprudently in the twilight. As for us, we waited till everything was clearly discernible, and then took the opposite direction through underwood; and we had advanced[159] but a short distance when a man came running after us, bringing us the exciting news that a party of Tawárek had fallen upon the two Arabs, and after wounding the elder of them, who had made some resistance, had carried off all their camels but three. I expressed my surprise to my horseman that such a thing could happen on the territory of the governor of Kanó, and urged him to collect some people of the neighbouring villages, in order to rescue the property, which might have been easily done; but he was quite indifferent, and smiling in his self-conceit, and pulling his little straw hat on one side of his head, he went on before us.

Small villages belonging to the district of Zákara were on each side, the inhabitants indulging still in security and happiness; the following year they were plunged into an abyss of misery, Bokhári making a sudden inroad on a market-day, and carrying off as many as a thousand persons. I here had a proof of the great inconvenience which many parts of Negroland suffer with regard to water, for the well at which we watered our horses this morning measured no less than three and thirty fathoms; but I afterwards found that this is a very common thing as well in Bórnu as in Bagírmi, while in other regions I shall have to mention wells as much as sixty fathoms deep. Beyond this spot we met a very numerous caravan with natron, coming from Kúkawa; and I therefore eagerly inquired the news of that place from the horsemen who accompanied it. All was well; but[160] they had not heard either of the arrival or of the approach of a Christian. This natron, which is obtained in the neighbourhood of the Tsád, was all in large pieces like stone, and is carried in nets, while that coming from Múniyo consists entirely of rubble, and is conveyed in bags, or a sort of basket. The former is called “kílbu tsaráfu,” while the name of the latter is “kílbu bóktor.” We soon saw other troops laden with this latter article; and there were even several mules among the beasts of burden. The commerce of this article is very important; and I counted to-day more than five hundred loads of natron that we met on our road.

I then went on in advance with “Mr. Sleep,” and soon reached the village Dóka, which by the Arabs travelling in Negroland is called, in semi-barbarous Arabic, “Súk el karága,” karága being a Bórnu word meaning wilderness. The village belongs to the Ghaladíma. Here we sat tranquilly down near the market-place, in the shade of some beautiful tamarind-trees, and indulged in the luxuries which my gentleman-like companion could afford. I was astonished as well as ashamed at the comfort which my African friend displayed, ordering one of the female attendants of his sirríya to bring into his presence a basket which seemed to be under the special protection of the latter, and drawing forth from it a variety of well-baked pastry, which he spread on a napkin before us, while another of the attendants was boiling the coffee. The barbarian and the civilized[161] European seemed to have changed places; and in order to contribute something to our repast, I went to the market and bought a couple of young onions. Really it is incredible what a European traveller in these countries has to endure; for while he must bear infinitely more fatigue, anxiety, and mental exertion than any native traveller, he is deprived of even the little comfort which the country affords—has no one to cook his supper, and to take care of him when he falls sick, or to shampoo him;

Leaving my companion to indulge in the “kief” of the Osmánli, of which he possessed a great deal, I preferred roving about. I observed that during the rainy season a great deal of water must collect here, which probably explains the luxurious vegetation and the splendid foliage of the trees hereabouts; and I was confirmed in my observation by my companion, who had travelled through this district during the rainy season, and was strongly impressed with the difficulties arising from the water, which covers a great part of the surface.

Having allowed our people, who by this time had come up, to have a considerable start in advance of us, we followed at length, entering underwood, from which we did not emerge till we arrived near Gérki. According to instructions received from us, our people had already chosen the camping-ground on the north-west[162] side of the town; but my horseman, who had gone in advance with them, thought it first necessary to conduct me into the presence of the governor, or rather of one of the five governors who rule over this place, each of them thinking himself more important than his colleague. The one to whom he presented me was, however, a very unprepossessing man, and not the same who on my return from the west in 1854 treated me with extraordinary respect. Yet he did not behave inhospitably to me; for he sent me a sheep (not very fat indeed), with some corn and fresh milk. Milk during the whole of my journey formed my greatest luxury; but I would advise any African traveller to be particularly careful with this article, which is capable of destroying a weak stomach entirely; and he would do better to make it a rule always to mix it with a little water, or to have it boiled.

The town of Gérki is a considerable place, and under a strong government would form a most important frontier-town. As it is, it may probably contain about fifteen thousand inhabitants; but they are notorious for their thievish propensities, and the wild state of the country around bears ample testimony to their want of industry. The market, which is held here before the S.W. gate, is of the most indifferent description. The wall with its pinnacles is in very good repair. In order to keep the thievish disposition of the natives in check, I fired some shots late in the evening; and we slept undisturbed. On my[163] return-journey, however, in 1854, when I was quite alone with my party, I was less fortunate, a most enterprising thief returning thrice to his task, and carrying away, one after the other, first the tobe, then the trowsers, and finally the cap from one of my people.

Thursday, March 13th.Not waiting for the new horseman whom I was to receive here early in the morning, I went on in advance with my companion, in order to reach Gúmmel before the heat of the day; and we soon met in the forest a string of twelve camels, all laden with kurdí or shells, and belonging to the rich Arab merchant Bú-héma, who resides in Múniyo, and carries on a considerable commerce between Kanó and Kúkawa. I will here mention, that in general 100,000 kurdí are regarded as a camel-load; fine animals, however, like these will carry as much as a hundred and fifty thousand, that is, just sixty dollars or twelve pounds’ worth. It is easy to be understood that, where the standard coin is of so unwieldy a nature, the commerce of the country cannot be of great value.

About two miles before we reached the frontier-town of the Bórnu empire in this direction, we were joined by the horseman of the governor of Gérki; and we here took leave of Háusa with its fine and beautiful country, and its cheerful and industrious population. It is remarkable what a difference there is between the character of the ba-Háushe and the Kanúri—the former lively, spirited,[164] and cheerful, the latter melancholic, dejected and brutal; and the same difference is visible in their physiognomies—the former having in general very pleasant and regular features, and more graceful forms, while the Kanúri, with his broad face, his wide nostrils, and his large bones, makes a far less agreeable impression, especially the women, who are very plain and certainly among the ugliest in all Negroland, notwithstanding their coquetry, in which they do not yield at all to the Háusa women.

Birmenáwa is a very small town, but strongly fortified with an earthen wall and two deep ditches, one inside and the other outside, and only one gate on the west side. Around it there is a good deal of cultivation, while the interior is tolerably well inhabited. Konché, who was in a great hurry to reach Gúmmel, would have preferred going on directly without entering the town; but as I was obliged to visit it in order to change my horseman, it being of some importance to me to arrive in Gúmmel with an escort, he accompanied me. The population consists of mixed Háusa and Kanúri elements.

Having obtained another man, we continued our march through a country partly under cultivation, partly covered with underwood, and were pleased, near the village Tókun, to find the Háusa custom of a little market held by the women on the roadside still prevailing; but this was the last scene of the kind I was to see for a long time. We reached the considerable town of Gúmmel just when the sun began[165] to shine with great power; and at the gate we separated, the sheríf taking his way directly towards his quarters in the southern part of the town, while I was obliged to go first to the house of the governor, the famous Dan-Tanóma (the son of Tanóma, his own name being entirely unknown to the people); but on account of his great age, neither on this nor on a later occasion did I get a sight of him. Indeed he was soon to leave this world, and by his death to plunge not only the town wherein he resided, but the whole neighbouring country, into a destructive civil war between his two sons.

However, on my first visit Gúmmel was still a flourishing place, and well inhabited, and I had to pass through an intricate labyrinth of narrow streets enclosed between fences of mats and reeds surrounding huts and courtyards, before I reached the dwellings of the few Arabs who live here; and after looking about for some time I obtained quarters near the house of Sálem Maidúkia (the Rothschild of Gúmmel), where my Morocco friend was lodged. But my lodgings required building in the first instance, as they consisted of nothing but a courtyard, the fence of which was in a state of utter decay, and a hut entirely fallen in, so that there was not the least shelter from the sun, whereas I had to wait here two days at least for my new friend, whose company I was not inclined to forego, without very strong reasons, on my journey to Kúkawa.

However building is not so difficult in Negroland[166] as it is in Europe; and a most comfortable dwelling, though rather light, and liable to catch fire, may be erected in a few hours; even a roof is very sufficiently made, at least such as is here wanted during the dry season, with those thick mats, made of reed, called “síggedi” in Bórnu. But most fortunately Sálem had a conical roof just ready, which would have afforded satisfactory shelter even from the heaviest rain. I therefore sent immediately my whole remaining supply of kurdí to the market to buy those mats and sticks; and getting four men practised in this sort of workmanship, I immediately set to work, and, long before my camels arrived, had a well-fenced private courtyard, and a splendid cool shade, while my tent served as a store for my luggage, and as a bedroom for myself.

Having, therefore, made myself comfortable, I was quite prepared to indulge in the luxurious luncheon sent me by the maidúkia, consisting of a well-cooked paste of Negro millet with sourmilk, after which I received visits from the few Arabs residing here, and was pleased to find one among them who had been Clapperton’s servant, and was well acquainted with the whole proceedings of the first expedition. He had been travelling about a good deal, and was able, with the assistance of a companion of his, to give me a tolerably complete itinerary of the route from Sókoto to Gónja, the gúro-country and the northern province of Asianti. These Arabs necessarily lead here a very miserable sort of existence; Sálem, however,[167] a native of Sókna, has succeeded in amassing a considerable fortune for these regions, and is therefore called by the natives maidúkia. He had a freed slave of the name of Mohammed Abbeakúta, who, though not at all an amiable man, and rather self-conceited, nevertheless gave me some interesting information. Among other things, he gave me a very curious list of native names of the months[42], which are not, however, those used by the Háusáwa, nor, I think, by the Yórubáwa, he having been evidently a native of Yóruba. He also gave me the following receipt for an antidote in the case of a person being wounded by poisoned arrows: a very young chicken is boiled with the fruits of the chamsínda, the áddwa (Balanites), and the tamarind-tree; and the bitter decoction so obtained, which is carried in a small leathern bag ready for use, is drunk immediately after receiving the poisonous wound, when, as he affirmed, the effect of the poison is counteracted by the medicine. The chicken would seem to have very little effect in the composition, but may be added as a charm.

The next morning I went with ʿAbd el Khafíf to pay our compliments to old Dan-Tanóma. His residence, surrounded by high clay walls, and including,[168] besides numbers of huts for his household and numerous wives, some spacious halls of clay, was of considerable extent; and the courtyard, shaded by a wide-spreading, luxuriant tamarind tree, was a very noble area. While we sat there awaiting the governor’s pleasure, I had a fair insight into the concerns of this little court, all the well-fed, idle parasites coming in one after the other, and rivalling each other in trivial jokes. The Háusa language is the language of the court; and the offices are similar to those which I mentioned above with regard to Kanó. Having waited a long time in vain, the weak old man sending an excuse, as he could not grant us an interview, we returned to our quarters.

To-day being Friday was market-day; and in order to see the market in its greatest activity I mounted at noon on horseback, and went out. In all these parts of Negroland, the customs of which are in every respect so different from those of Yóruba and the neighbouring countries, the market (in Kúkawa and Maseña as well as in Kanó, Sókoto, and even Timbúktu) is always most frequented and most busy in the hottest hours of the day, notwithstanding the great fatigue which all the people, and particularly the strangers, have to undergo.

The market of Gúmmel is held outside the town, between the two gates on the west side, but nearer to the “chínna-n-yalá”[43] (the northern gate), which is remarkable on account of its well-fortified condition.

[169]Though I had heard a good deal about Gúmmel, I was nevertheless surprised at the size and the activity of the market, although that held on Saturday is said to be still more important. Gúmmel is the chief market for the very extensive trade in natron, which, as I have mentioned above, is carried on between Kúkawa and Múniyo on one side, and Núpe or Nýffi on the other; for this trade passes from one hand into another, and the Bórnu people very rarely carry this merchandise further than Gúmmel. Large masses of natron, certainly amounting to at least one thousand loads of both qualities mentioned above, were offered here for sale—the full bullock’s load of the better quality for five thousand, an ass’s load of the inferior sort for five hundred kurdí. There were also about three hundred stalls or sheds, but not arranged in regular rows, where a great variety of objects were offered for sale,—all sorts of clothing, tools, earthenware pots, all kinds of victuals, cattle, sheep, donkeys, horses—in short, everything of home or foreign produce which is in request among the natives.

The Arabs have their place under a wide-spreading fig-tree, where I was greatly pleased to make the acquaintance of a very intelligent man called ʿAzi Mohammed Moníya, who gave me some valuable information, particularly with regard to the route[170] from Kanó to Tóto, and that from Sókoto to Gónja. He also gave me the first accurate description of the immense town Alóri, or Ilóri, the great centre of the conquering Fúlbe in Yóruba, which I shall have frequent opportunity of mentioning in the course of my proceedings. This man, who was really very intelligent, had travelled a great deal, and had made a long stay in Stambúl, assured me that Alóri was, without the least doubt, larger than the latter city. Yet this immense town, of which the first accounts are due, I think, to Capt. Clapperton, is sought for in vain in many of our most recent maps.

Greatly delighted with my visit to the market, though not a little affected by the exposure to the sun during the hot hours, I returned to my quarters; for though a practised traveller will bear very well the most scorching power of the sun, if he sets out in the morning, and by degrees becomes inured to greater and greater heat, he may suffer fatally from exposing himself for a long time to the mid-day sun, after having spent the morning in the shade. Later in the afternoon, the governor sent, as a gift to me and ʿAbd el Khafíf, through his principal courtiers (such as the ghaladíma, the chiróma, and others, who were accompanied by a long train of followers), a young bullock, they being instructed at the same time to receive in return the present, or “salám,” as it is generally called, which we had prepared for him. I gave them a subéta and a small flask with rose oil, which is an article in great[171] request with the fashionable world in Háusa and Bórnu. In the evening, we received also corn for our horses.

Saturday, March 15th.This was a most fortunate and lucky day for me; for suddenly, when I least expected it, I was visited by an Arab from Sókna, of the name of Mohammed el Mughárbi, who had just arrived with a little caravan of Swákena from Múrzuk, and brought me a considerable number of letters from friends in Tripoli, England, and Germany, after my having been deprived of news from them for ten months. The letters gave me great delight; but besides the letters there was something with them which touched me more sensibly, by the providential way in which it supplied my most urgent wants.

I was extremely short of cash, and having spent almost my whole supply of shells in fitting up my quarters, paying my guides, and discharging Makhmúd, who had proved quite unfit for service, I had very little left wherewith to provide for our wants on our long journey to Kúkawa. How surprised and delighted was I, then, on opening Mr. Gagliuffi’s letter, at the unexpected appearance of two Spanish dollars, which he forwarded to me in order to make good an error in my account with him. Two Spanish dollars! it was the only current money I had at that time; and they were certainly more valuable to me than so many hundreds of pounds at other times. However, the rascal who brought me the letters had also merchandise on the[172] account of the mission, to the value of one hundred pounds; but, either because he wished to deliver it to the director himself, or in order to obtain also the hire stipulated for him if he should be obliged to carry the merchandise on to Kúkawa, he declared that the things had gone on in advance to Kanó,—an evident falsehood, which eventually caused us much unnecessary expense, and brought Mr. Overweg and myself into the greatest distress; for I did not, in fact, receive this merchandise till after my return from Adamáwa—having subsisted all the time upon “air and debts.”

This and the following day I was busy answering my letters, and I will only mention here that from this place I intimated to one of my friends,—Mr. Richard Lepsius, of Berlin,—my foreboding that it might be my destiny, after trying in vain to penetrate to any great distance in a south-eastern direction, to turn my steps westwards, and to fill up my researches into the regions about Timbúktu by my personal experience. Having finished my parcel of letters, I gave it to the Mughárbi to take with him to Kanó, and entrust it to the care of one of my Tinýlkum friends, who would soon forward it to Múrzuk.

Having been thus freshly imbued with the restless impulse of European civilization, and strengthened with the assurance that highly respected persons at such a distance took a deep interest in the results of our proceedings, I resolved not to linger a moment[173] longer in this place, but rather to forego the company of my amiable friend, particularly as I knew that he was going to Múniyo, and therefore, after a few days’ march, would at all events separate from me. And I did well; for my friend did not reach Kúkawa before the middle of May, that is, six weeks after me. Such are the Arabs, and woe to him who relies upon them! The same thing happened to me on my successful return from Bórnu to the coast in 1855. Every body assured me that the caravan was to leave immediately: but I went on alone in May, and reached Tripoli in August, while the caravan did not reach Múrzuk before March, 1856.

I therefore sent to Dan-Tanóma, begging him to furnish me with a horseman who would escort me to Máshena, and he assented. It was a hazardous and troublesome undertaking: I had only one servant, faithful, but young, and who had never before travelled this road; besides a little boy, delicate in body and unsteady in mind, and I was sure that I myself should have to do half the work, as well in loading and unloading the camels as in pitching the tent, and looking after everything.

Monday, March 17th.Having taken a hearty leave of ʿAbd el Khafíf, I followed my camels and—my good luck. This was the first time on my journey that I travelled quite alone, and I felt very happy, though, of course, I should have been glad to have had one or two good servants.

The country on the east side of Gúmmel, at least[174] at this time of the year, presented a very dull and melancholy appearance, and the most decided contrast to that cheerful and splendid scenery which is peculiar to the landscape round Kanó. Nevertheless, it seemed to be well inhabited, and we passed several places, some of them of tolerable size, and surrounded with earthen walls, of very inconsiderable elevation, and ditches; the courtyards, especially in the first town which we passed, the name of which is Kadángaré, “the lizard” in Háusa, were wide and spacious. A little later in the season the drought must be terribly felt in these quarters; for even at present we had great difficulty in watering our horses and filling a waterskin. Trees of good size became continually more scarce, but the country was still well inhabited, and after ten o’clock, near the little town Gósuwa, surrounded likewise by a low earthen wall, we reached a small market-place, consisting of about thirty stalls, where a market is held every Sunday; the town, however, was not thickly inhabited, and near its north-east corner especially there were large empty spaces.

Beyond this place the country became a little richer in trees, and we here passed a large village-called Gáreji, where a path branches off leading to Maimágariá, a road generally taken by caravans. The population of all these places is composed of Bórnu and Háusa people, and many particular customs might be observed hereabouts, which are rather peculiar to the latter race. Dull as the country[175] appeared, a feeling of tranquillity and security was communicated by the sight of little granaries, such as I have described above, scattered about without any protection in the neighbourhood of some villages. After we had passed the empty market-place of the little walled town Kábbori, the surface of the ground had a very peculiar look, being covered entirely with colocynths, which were just in maturity. About a mile and a half further on we took up our quarters in Benzári, a town belonging to the province of Máshena, or Másena, and were well received and hospitably treated by the Ghaladíma. The town is separated into two parts by a spacious opening, wherein is the principal well which supplies almost the whole population, but its depth is considerable, being more than twenty fathoms. Here we filled our waterskin the next morning, before we set out.

March 18th.Scarcely had we left Benzári behind us when my ears were struck by the distant sound of drums and singing, and I learnt on inquiry that it was Bokhári, or, as the Bórnu people call him, Bowári, the deposed governor of Khadéja,[44] and the brother of Áhmedu, the present ruler of that town. Bokhári’s name was then new, not only to me, but even to the natives of the neighbouring provinces. He had been governor of Khadéja, but being a clever and restless man he, or rather his jealous brother,[176] had excited the suspicion of his liege lord ʿAlíyu, the ruler of Sókoto, who had deposed him and given the government to his brother Áhmedu, whereupon Bokhári had nothing else to do but to throw himself upon the hospitality and protection of the Bórnu people, who received him with open arms, the governor of Máshena, with the sanction of his liege lord the sheikh of Bórnu, assigning to him a neighbouring place, Yerímarí, for his residence. This is an incident of very frequent occurrence in these loosely connected empires; but it is particularly so with the Fúlbe, among whom one brother often cherishes the most inveterate hatred against another. Exactly the same thing we have seen already in Kátsena. Bokhári having remained some time quietly in this place, strengthening his party and assisted underhand with arms and men by the vizier of Bórnu, had just now set out to try his fortune against his brother, and was beating the drums in order to collect as many people as possible.

Predatory incursions are nothing new in these quarters, where several provinces and entirely distinct empires have a common frontier; but this, as the event proved, was rather a memorable campaign for the whole of this part of Negroland, and was to become “the beginning of sorrows” for all the country around. For Bokhári having taken the strong town of Khadéja, and killed his brother, was not only able to defend himself in his new position, vanquishing all the armies sent against him, and amongst them[177] the whole military force of the empire of Sókoto, which was led on by the vizier in person, ʿAbdu the son of Gedádo, Clapperton’s old friend, but spread terror and devastation to the very gates of Kanó. Indeed, on my second journey through these regions, I shall have the sad duty of describing the state of misery into which districts, which on my former visit I had found flourishing and populous, had been reduced by this warlike chieftain, who instead of founding a strong kingdom and showing himself a great prince, chose rather, like most of his countrymen, to base his power on the destruction and devastation of the country around him, and to make himself a slave-dealer on a grand scale. Tens of thousands of unfortunate people, pagans as well as Mohammedans, unprotected in their wellbeing by their lazy and effeminate rulers, have from the hands of Bokhári passed into those of the slave-dealer, and have been carried away from their native home into distant regions.

Kept in alarm by the drumming, and making some not very tranquillizing reflections on the weakness of our little band, which consisted of three men and a boy, in the turbulent state of the country through which we were passing, we continued silently on, while the character of the landscape had nothing peculiarly adapted to cheer the mind. Cultivation beginning to cease, nothing was to be seen but an immense level tract of country covered with the monotonous Asclepias gigantea, with only a single poor Balanites now[178] and then. But the scene became more animated as we approached Chifówa, a considerable town surrounded by a low earthen wall, which I was greatly astonished to hear belonged still to the territory of Gúmmel, and was also assigned to Bokhári during his exile. The boundary between the provinces must run here in a very waving line.

All that I observed here testified that the Háusa population still greatly predominated; and as we had to turn close round the place on the north side, where the ground rose, we had a fine view over the whole interior of the town. It presented a very animated spectacle; and a large number of horsemen were assembled here, evidently in connection with the enterprise of Bokhári, while men and women were busy carrying water into the town from a considerable distance. Of cultivation, however, very few traces appeared; but a good many cattle and sheep, and even some camels, were seen grazing about. In Kaselúwa also, the next town, we were complimented with the usual Háusa salute. Having then passed through a monotonous tract of country covered with tall reed-grass and with the Asclepias, we reached the town of Yélkazá at half-past nine o’clock in the morning. Here the governor of the province of Máshena, who generally has his residence in the town of the same name, was staying at present, apparently on account of the expedition of Bokhári, which he was assisting underhand; and I accordingly had to pay him my compliments, as my horseman, who was[179] a servant of Dan Tanóma, could not well conduct me any further.

We therefore entered the town by the north gate, and found people very busy repairing the fortification, consisting of two walls and three ditches of considerable depth, two of which ran outside round the outer wall, while the third was inclosed between the two walls.

Having presented ourselves at the residence of the governor, which was situated in the middle of the town, and consisted altogether of reed-work, we obtained good quarters, with a spacious and cool shed, which was the only thing we wanted; for being anxious not to lose any more time, I had resolved to start again in the afternoon. In order, therefore, to obtain a guide as soon as possible, I went to pay my compliments to the governor, whose name was Mohammed. After a little delay, he came out of the interior of his reed house into the audience-hall, which likewise consisted entirely of reed-work, but was spacious and airy; there he sat down upon a sort of divan, similar to the ánkaréb used in Egypt, and made of the branches of the tukkurúwa, which had been brought in expressly for the purpose. My interview, however, was short, for neither was he himself a lively or inquisitive man, nor was my Tébu servant, whom, as I myself was not yet able to speak Kanúri with tolerable fluency, I was obliged to employ as interpreter, at all distinguished either by eloquence[180] or by frankness, though in other respects he was an excellent lad.

I obtained, however, all that I wanted, the governor assigning me immediately a man who should accompany me to Ghaladíma ʿOmár, the governor of Búndi, and I was glad that he did not grumble at my present, which consisted only of a small phial of rose oil and a quarter of a pound of cloves. The best and most usual present for the governors on this road, who are justly entitled to some gift, as no tolls are to be paid, is a subéta, or white shawl with red or yellow border, such as are brought from Egypt, which may be accompanied with some spices. The old man also sent me, after a little while, when I had returned to my quarters, a dish which at least was not richer than my present, consisting in a very unpalatable paste of Negro corn, with a nasty sauce of míya, or molukhíya. Háusa with its delicacies was behind us; and I was unable to procure, either for hospitality’s sake or for money, a dish of “fura,” which I had become very fond of.

The heat was very great, though a light fresh breeze from the east made it supportable; and my new guide seemed by no means so anxious to go on as I was, so that I was obliged to search for him a long while. Having at length laid hold of him we started, passing through an undulating country without cultivation, and covered only with brushwood, and with the dreadfully monotonous káwo or Asclepias, when after three miles it became a little varied by underwood,[181] the scene being enlivened by a karábka, or káfila, with nine camels coming from Kúkawa.

Thus we approached Taganáma, a considerable town, inclosed with a wall and a double ditch. We were obliged, however, to go round the whole town, the western gate being closed, and a sort of outwork, such as is very rare in these countries, consisting in a cross ditch projecting to a great distance, being made at its north-east corner. At length we reached the eastern gate, and entered the town. Its interior left on us an impression of good order and comfort; all the fences of the courtyards were in excellent repair, the huts large and spacious, and a certain air of wellbeing was spread over the whole place.

Having obtained tolerable quarters, and corn for my guide’s horse and my own, we lay down early, in order to continue our journey with the first dawn next morning, but were roused at midnight by some people arriving and stating, with an air of great importance, that they had letters for me. Greatly surprised, and wondering what these important despatches could be, I got up, but found, when I had kindled a light, that the letters were not for me at all, but addressed to persons in Kúkawa unknown to me, by others in Kanó not better known. These unknown friends most probably, after I had fairly set out, had determined not to let slip this excellent opportunity of communicating with their friends in Kúkawa. However, the carriers of the letters thinking,[182] and perhaps expressly made to think, that they had brought some important message for me, expected a handsome present; and I had some difficulty in persuading them that they were only giving me trouble for the sake of other people. Nevertheless, as they were unprovided with food, I ordered Mohammed to cook a supper for them; and after having disturbed my night’s rest by their noisy conversation, they made off again long before day-light. For in this whole district, where so many different nationalities border close together, the greatest insecurity reigns, and the inhabitants of one town cannot safely trust themselves to those of a neighbouring place without fear of being sold as slaves, or at least of being despoiled of the little they have.

My fine lancer, with whose manly bearing I had been very much pleased yesterday, appeared to have thought that, instead of exposing himself alone, by accompanying me further through a disturbed and infested district, he would do better to retrace his steps in the company of these people; for the next morning he was gone, and no trace of him was to be found. Perhaps he was anxious to join the expedition against Khadéja, where the soldier might make his fortune, while with me he could only expect to gain a few hundred shells; but whatever was his reason for decamping, he left me in a state of great perplexity, as I was in a hurry to go on as fast as possible, and in a country where there are no highroads, but where even tracks so important as that from[183] Kanó to Kúkawa are nothing but small paths leading from one village or from one town to another, I could not well dispense with a guide. As regards security, I could only rely upon Providence and my own courage.

Having in vain searched for my man, I loaded the camels, and mounting my horse, proceeded to the residence of the governor, who is the vassal of the ruler of Máshena. He, having been informed by his servants, soon came forth, a tall imposing figure, and seeing that my complaint was just, his liege lord having expressly assigned me the horseman in order to conduct me to Búndi, he assured me that he would find another guide for me; but as it would take some time, he ordered one of his servants to lead me out of the town to a place where the camels meanwhile might graze a little. Seeing that he was a just and intelligent man, I thanked him for his kindness, and followed his servant, who conducted us a few hundred yards from the town, where there was most excellent pasturage for the camels.

While we were waiting here for the guide, my companion, who was a sociable sort of man, helped me to pass the time most agreeably with his instructive talk. I had observed a very curious object at the governor’s house,—a leathern parcel of considerable dimensions, tied up with great care and hung on a long pole, and I had fancied that it contained the body of a criminal exposed there to every man’s sight as a warning example of severe punishment; but to my great[184] astonishment I now learned that it was a powerful talisman suspended in order to protect the town against the Felláta, as the Bórnu people call the Fúlbe, whose inroads were greatly feared. He likewise informed me that four years ago there was a desperate struggle for Taganáma, when that town very narrowly escaped falling into the hands of those fanatical invaders. He praised his master, whose name as I now learned was Ísa. The cheerful aspect of the town seemed fully to confirm his praises, and I expressed my hope that his watchfulness and energy might be a better safeguard to the inhabitants than that monstrous talisman, the dimensions of which were really frightful.

I was greatly pleased also to observe here the very first signs of preparing the ground for the approaching season, the slaves being busy clearing the soil with a sort of strong rake provided with four long wooden teeth, called “kámga;” but this is very rarely done, and the preparatory labours of agriculture must differ more or less in different districts according to the peculiar nature of the ground.

At length we saw the guides coming towards us. Instead of a horseman there were two archers on foot[45], short muscular men, clad only with a leathern apron[185] round their loins, and for arms bearing, besides bow and arrows, the peculiar little Mánga battle-axe, which they carry on their shoulders, while a good sized leathern pocket for carrying provisions, and several diminutive garra bottles hung down by their sides. In short, they were real Mánga warriors, though they certainly did not inspire us with all the confidence which we should have wished to repose in a guide. However, having made them promise in the presence of the governor’s servant, who professed to know them well, that they would accompany me to Búndi, I started with them.

Having lost the finest hours of the morning, I was naturally anxious not to waste more time; and I was glad to perceive that the fine eastern breeze, which had prevailed for some days, greatly lessened the power of the sun. Soon afterwards we met the brother of the governor of Máshena, with a troop of twelve horsemen, hastening towards the point where the memorable campaign of Bokhári was to commence. The country was very monotonous, being soon covered with a forest of mean growth, uninterrupted by any tree of larger size, except the bare dismal-looking kuka or monkey bread-tree, and presented evident signs of destructive warfare waged throughout it; we passed the former sites of several small towns and villages. The soil consisted here of deep white sand.

After a march of about eight miles, however, the vegetation began to assume a different character, the ngílle or dúm-bush first appearing, then a karáge or[186] gáwo (the locust-tree) being seen now and then, after which the dúm-palm began to prevail entirely. The substratum of this district is evidently granite, which seems to lie very close to the surface, as about noon a large mass of this rock projected near our path. A little beyond this point the wilderness was agreeably interrupted by an opening with stubble-fields, about which were scattered small granaries, producing, at such a distance from any inhabited place and without guardians, an agreeable feeling of security.

Half an hour afterwards we reached the stockade of Wuélleri, and proceeded directly to the house of the bíllama or mayor, as I wished to obtain here another guide, for it was only with the greatest difficulty that I succeeded in dragging on thus far my two archers, who had shown signs of the greatest anxiety during the latter part of the march, and had tried several times to turn their backs; but further they would not go on any account, and I was therefore obliged to dismiss them, paying them three hundred shells. Unfortunately the bíllama was not at home, and his brother proved to be a morose and surly fellow. I wished to stay here only during the hot hours of the day, and to proceed in the evening after having watered the camels; but he represented to me that the town of Máshena was too distant to be reached before night, if I did not go on directly. As this was impossible, I resolved to stay here for the night, and pitched my tent in an open place in front of a[187] cool shed. However, we found great difficulty in watering our animals, the Mánga pretending that there was no water, though we ourselves had passed the well where the cattle had just been watered. Certainly the aquatic element was very scarce; and, after much debate, I was at length obliged to pay one hundred and fifty shells—an enormous charge, if the general price of the necessaries of life in this country be considered.

Thus our poor camels got at length something to drink, and, with a good feed in the afternoon, were prepared for a long march the following day. However, we still wanted a guide; and, notwithstanding our begging, promising, and threatening, we were unable to persuade any one to accompany us on to Búndi. The reason of this, however, was not only on account of the absence of the governor of Máshena from his capital, but likewise owing to the unsettled state of the country, and the fear entertained by these people of being caught and sold into slavery. Indeed, between all these towns, there was scarcely any mutual intercourse kept up by the natives themselves.

Thursday, March 20th.Having exerted myself to the utmost to obtain a guide, I found myself obliged to start alone with my two young lads, the eldest of whom was eighteen, and the other not more than thirteen or fourteen years of age. Field and forest succeeded alternately to each other; and after a little less than two miles, we passed on our left a small village lightly[188] fenced. Here we met also a small caravan, as a faint symptom of peaceable intercourse, though its array (covered as it went by an advanced guard of three archers marching at some distance, and performing at the same time the office of scouts, and by a rearguard of two more) showed clearly their sense of insecurity. The country now began to improve considerably; and a beautiful tamarind-tree vested in the richest foliage, and closely embracing a colossal leafless Adansonia, formed the beginning of a finer vegetation, while two mounts, one on our right hand and the other on our left, interrupted the monotonous level through which we had been travelling. Further on, granitic masses projected on all sides, and a solitary date-palm spread a peculiar charm over the landscape.

Having watered my horse at a well in the hollow between the two mounts, I reached, with my camels, the ditch and thorny fence then forming the only fortification of the town of Máshena, which place was strengthened, in the following year, with a clay wall. It lies on the gentle southern slope of an eminence the top of which is crowned with a rocky crest, and is a considerable place for this country, having a population of certainly not less than 10,000 souls, but without the least sign of industry. A small káfila of Tébu and Arab merchants were encamped here; but although we arrived at the very hottest time of the day, I was too anxious to proceed to think of staying here; and having only asked the news from Kúkawa, and[189] heard that all was well, I continued my march. It shows the slowness of intercourse in this country, that these people were ignorant of Mr. Richardson’s death, although he had died twenty days before at a place only six days’ march on this side of Kúkawa.

Keeping steadily on, first over open pasture-grounds, then through a country well wooded, we reached, after a march of about seven miles, a village, and entered it cheerfully with the intention of spending the night there, but were greatly disappointed on discovering that it was entirely deserted, and did not contain a living creature. Fortunately, however, after consulting what was to be done, we found a traveller who showed us a small path which was to lead us to the town of Álamáy. He also informed us that the inhabitants of this village, the name of which was Jáwel, had formed a new village further south. The little path pointed out, however, was so overgrown and slightly marked that we soon became doubtful and perplexed. I went, therefore, to inquire of a shepherd whom we saw at some little distance on the right of our path; but no sooner did he observe me approaching than he ran away, leaving his flock at our discretion.

The state of this country is very miserable indeed, all the petty governors around, as soon as they have any debts to pay, undertaking a predatory expedition, and often selling even their own subjects.[46] However,[190] we were lucky in finding at last a more trodden path, which soon brought us to an open, straggling village named Kárgímawa, which displayed a most animated and cheerful picture of a wealthy and industrious little community—the men sitting in the shade of some fine caoutchouc tree, some of them busy making mats, others weaving, while the women were carrying water, or setting the pot upon the fire for the evening repast. Cattle, goats, and fowl roved about in considerable quantities.

Quite delighted at arriving (in consequence of having strayed from the direct road) at this sequestered place, we pitched our tent with a grateful sense of security, and squatted comfortably down, while the camels found a rich repast in the fields. In one thing, however, I was disappointed. The sight of so many cattle had led me to anticipate a good draught of milk; but the cattle did not belong to the inhabitants, and before sunset they were driven away. In other respects we were hospitably treated, and four little dishes were brought us in the evening from different huts, three of which contained paste of Guinea corn, and one beans. The latter always seemed to me an agreeable variety; but a European must be very cautious how he indulges in them in[191] these regions, as they are apt to derange the stomach, and to bring on serious illness.

Friday, March 21st.Very early in the morning a numerous troop of small tradesmen, with pack-oxen, passed through the village while we awaited day-light; and then having gratefully taken leave of the hospitable villagers, we set out, accompanied by one of them, to show us the road. Having passed the former site of a little town, we soon gained the direct road, where we fell in with a motley gipsy-looking troop of those Tébu-Jétko, who, after the almost total annihilation of the commonwealth of Kánem, have immigrated into Bórnu. Those we met here were coming from Zínder. They had a few horses, oxen, and asses with them, but scarcely any luggage; and the whole attire of men, women, and children was very poor. We then passed the little town of Álamáy, surrounded not only with an earthen wall and ditch, but also with a dense thorny fence some ten feet thick on the outside. Here was exhibited the pleasant picture of a numerous herd of fine cattle lying tranquilly on the spacious area inside the wall, ruminating their last day’s repast, while a large extent of cultivated ground around the town gave ample proof of the industry of the people. But the wellbeing of the inhabitants of these regions has very little guarantee; and when, toward the end of the year 1854, I again travelled this same road, not a single cow was to be seen here, and the whole place looked mournful and deserted,[192] tall reed-grass covering the fields which had been formerly cultivated.

Having then passed a thick forest of underwood, and some cultivated ground, half an hour before noon we reached Búndi[47], the residence of the ghaladíma ʿOmár, fortified in the same way as Álamáy, and went up directly to the house of the governor, which consists entirely of reed-work. However, the mats (“lágará”) which surround the whole establishment are of very great height, at least fifteen feet, and of considerable thickness, made of a peculiar reed called “súgu,” and being sustained by long poles, and kept in a good state of repair, do not look ill. Besides, they are in general strengthened still further on the outside by a fence of thorny bushes.

The ghaladíma[48], or governor of the Gháladí, which[193] (as we shall see in the historical account of the Bórnu empire) comprised all the western provinces of Bórnu from the komádugu Wáube (the so-called Yéou) to the shores of the Kwára, having his residence in Bírni Ngurú, near Mármar, in former times was an officer (or rather an almost independent feudal vassal) of immense power; at present, however, he has sunk to great insignificance, and in real power is much inferior to his neighbours the governors of Múniyo, Zínder, and even that of Máshena. But the present ghaladíma ʿOmár is an intriguing man; and it would have been imprudent to pass on without paying him the compliment of a visit; and I was justified in hoping that he would provide me with a guide in order that I might reach as soon as possible the presence of his liege lord the sheikh of Bórnu.

Not being able to see him directly, I was obliged to sacrifice half a day, and to make up my mind to spend the night here. I therefore asked for quarters, and was lodged in a spacious but dirty courtyard, where I could procure but a very insufficient shade with my little English bell-tent of thin canvass. Having passed two uncomfortable hours without any refreshment, I was called in the afternoon into the presence of the governor, and being obliged to leave my servant behind to take care of my luggage while ʿAbd-Alla was pasturing the camels, I went alone, and found the great man in a spacious room or hall formed entirely of matwork, where he was lying upon an elevated platform or divan spread with a carpet.[194] He was a short, well-fed, dark-coloured man, of about sixty years of age, his large, broad face looking forth from the hood of a blue cloth bernús, with a neutral expression indicating neither stupidity nor cleverness; his courtiers were grouped around him on the ground. Having saluted him and made the usual polite inquiries, I expressed my ardent desire to reach Kúkawa as soon as possible, as the day which I had fixed with my elder brother (Mr. Richardson) for a meeting in that place was drawing nigh; and I begged him, therefore, to grant me a guide who might conduct me there by the most direct road, of which I myself was ignorant, much time having been already lost in groping my way from one place to another. I then delivered my little present, consisting of an English razor and clasp-knife, a large mirror of German silver, a parcel of English darning-needles, half a pound of cloves, and a piece of scented soap. Having looked at these things with satisfaction, he asked me if I had not anything marvellous with me; and I consented to return to my quarters and fetch my musical box, with the performance of which the ghaladíma was highly pleased, but greatly desired to see some other curious things, such as pocket-pistols, whereupon I told him that I had nothing else calculated to gratify his curiosity. I was much fatigued, and on returning to my tent was not at all pleased to be still troubled by the governor’s servant, who came to ask, in the name of his master, for calico, sugar, rose oil, and sundry other articles.

[195]Búndi is a place of tolerable size, but with little industry; and the province of which it is the capital is going to ruin more and more, on account of the laziness and negligence of its governor,—a statement which will be amply proved by the account of my journey through the same district in 1854. The town probably contains eight or nine thousand inhabitants, who belong to the Mánga nation, which seems to be the chief element of the Kanúri, and preserves many very remarkable customs. The special name of the clan of this tribe which dwells hereabouts is Kárda. There is no market here of any importance; but the inhabitants seem to be tolerably at their ease, and there was music and racing, or “kadáske,” in the evening, accompanied by the joyous shrill voices, the “wulúli,” of the women. We, however, seemed to be forgotten; and it was nine o’clock at night, long after we had supped, when we received a dish for ourselves, and corn for the horse. It is rather remarkable that these western provinces of Bórnu were never conquered by the Fúlbe or Felláta, though lying so much nearer to those countries of which they have definitively taken possession than that part of Bórnu situated between the old capital and the great lagoon. The consequence is, that a certain degree of independence is allowed to them, and that they do not pay any tithes to the sheikh.[49]

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[197]CHAP. XXVII.

BÓRNU PROPER.

Saturday, March 22nd.The ghaladíma had promised to send me a horseman last evening, as I wanted to start early in the morning; but as we neither saw nor heard anything of him the whole night, I thought it better not to lose any more time, but to rely upon my own resources, and accordingly left the town quietly by the northern gate, while the people, after last night’s merriment, were still buried in sleep.

Following the great road, we kept on through a light forest, at times interrupted by a little cultivation. We met several parties—first of a warlike character, armed, horse and foot, then a motley band of natron-traders with camels, bulls, horses and asses, all laden with this valuable article. Emerging at length from the forest, we came upon a wide extent of cultivated land with a sandy soil, with hardly a single tree at present, and, the labours of the field not having yet commenced, still covered with the káwo or Asclepias, the characteristic weed of Negroland, which every year, at the beginning of the agricultural season, is cleared away, and which during the dry season grows again, often to the height of ten or twelve feet. We then had a most interesting and cheerful scene of[198] African life in the open, straggling village of Kálimarí or Kálemrí, divided into two distinct groups by a wide open space, where numerous herds of cattle were just being watered at the wells; but how melancholy, how mournful, became the recollection of the busy animated scene which I then witnessed, when three years and a half later, as I travelled again through this district, the whole village, which now presented such a spectacle of happiness and well-being, had disappeared, and an insecure wilderness, greatly infested by robbers, had succeeded to the cheerful abode of man.

But inviting as the village was for a halt during the heat of the day, we had, as conscientious and experienced travellers, the stomachs of our poor animals more at heart than our own; and having watered the horse and filled our skins, we continued on for a while, and then halted in very rich herbage, where, however, there was scarcely a spot free from the disagreeable “ngíbbu,” the Pennisetum distichum. On starting again in the afternoon, the country began to exhibit a greater variety of bush and tree; and after a march of two hours, we reached the village Dármagwá, surrounded with a thorny fence, and encamped near it, not far from another little trading-party. We were soon joined by a troop of five Tébu merchants with two camels, a horse, and two pack-oxen, who were also going to Kúkawa, but who, unfortunately, did not suit me as constant companions, their practice being to start early in the morning[199] long before day-light, which was against my principle, as well in a scientific as in a material point of view; for neither should I have been able to lay down the road with correctness, nor would even the best arms have guaranteed my safety while marching in the dark. We therefore allowed them next morning to have the start of us for full two hours, and then followed.

Sunday, March 23rd.We now entered a district which may be most appropriately called the exclusive region of the dúm-palm or Cucifera Thebaïca in Negroland; for though this tree is found, in large clusters or in detached specimens, in many localities of Central Africa, yet it is always limited to some favoured spot, especially to the bank of a watercourse, as the komádugu near the town of Yó, and there is no other district of such extent as this tract between Kálemrí and Zurríkulo where the Cucifera Thebaïca is the characteristic and almost the only tree. My Gatróni thought that the trees would perhaps not bear fruit here; but on my second journey, in the month of December, they were loaded with fruit.

The country has a very peculiar open character, a sandy level very slightly undulating, covered thinly with tall reed-grass shooting forth from separate bunches, the line of view broken only now and then by a cluster of slender fan-palms, without a single trace of cultivation. I was anxious afterwards to know whether this tract has always had this monotonous, deserted character, or whether it had contained formerly[200] any towns and villages; and from all that I could learn, the former seems to be the case. However, our road was frequented, and we met several little troops of native travellers, with one of whom I saw the first specimen of the “kúri,” a peculiar kind of bull of immense size and strength, with proportionately large horns of great thickness and curving inwards. They are almost all of white colour. Their original home is Kárgá, the cluster of islands and swampy ground at the eastern corner of the Tsád.

After five hours’ marching, when we had just traversed a small hollow full of herbage, the dúm-palm was for a moment superseded by other trees, chiefly by the gáwo or karáge; but it soon after again asserted its eminence as the predominating tree. We encamped at length, ignorant as we were of the country, a few minutes beyond a small village, the first human abode we had met with since we had left Dármagwá, half an hour before noon, in the shade of a tamarind-tree, surrounded by a thick cluster of dúm-palms. Certainly the tamarind-tree indicated that water was near; but I was not a little surprised, when ʿAbd-Alla, who was tending the camels, brought me the news that a considerable river, now stagnant, was close behind us. It was, as I afterwards learnt, the “Wáni,” that branch of the komádugu Wáube (erroneously called “Yë́u”) which runs past Khadéja and joins the other branch which comes from Katágum. We therefore watered our camels here without[201] being obliged to pay a single shell, and gave them a good feed, after which we resumed our march, and were not a little astonished when, having crossed the komádugu where it formed a narrow meandering channel about fifty yards broad, and bordered on both sides with trees, we discovered the town of Zurríkulo at a short distance before us.

Going round the north side of the town, we entered the dilapidated wall on the eastern side, where there was an open space, and pitched my tent close to the Tébu, who had arrived already in the forenoon. Soon after, there arrived also a káfila, with twelve camels and a number of oxen and asses, from Kúkawa, and I was anxious to obtain some news of Mr. Richardson; but these people were utterly ignorant of the actual or expected arrival of any Christian in that place. They told me, however, what was not very agreeable, that the sheikh of Bórnu was about to undertake a pilgrimage to Mekka; but fortunately, though that was the heart’s desire of that mild and pious man, he could not well carry it into execution.

I had now entered Bórnu proper, the nucleus of that great Central African empire in its second stage, after Kánem had been given up. It is bordered towards the east by the great sea-like komádugu the Tsád or Tsáde, and towards the west and north-west by the little komádugu which by the members of the last expedition has been called Yéou, from the town of that name, or rather Yó, near which they first made its acquaintance on their way from Fezzán. I had now left behind[202] me those loosely-attached principalities which still preserve some sort of independence, and henceforth had only to do with Bórnu officers.

Not feeling very well, I remained in my tent without paying my compliments to the officer here stationed, whose name is Kashélla Sʿaid, with whom I became acquainted on a later occasion, but the good man being informed by the people that a stranger from a great distance, who was going to visit his liege lord, had entered his town, sent his people to welcome me, and regaled me with several bowls of very good paste, with fresh fish, and a bowl of milk.

Zurríkulo was once a large town, and at the time of the inroad of Wadáÿ revolted from the sheikh, but was obliged to surrender to his brother ʿAbd e’ Rahmán. Since then it has gradually been decaying, and is now half deserted. The neighbourhood of the town is full of wild animals; and great fear was entertained by my companions for our beasts, as we had no protection in our rear. The roaring of a lion was heard during the night.

Monday, March 24th.Next morning, when we resumed our march, the fan-palm for some time continued to be the prevailing tree; but some kukas also, or Adansonia digitata, and other more leafy trees began to appear, and after a while a thick underwood sprang up. Then followed a few scattered, I might say forlorn, date-trees, which looked like strangers in the country, transplanted into this region by some accident. The sky was clear; and I was leaning carelessly[203] upon my little nag, musing on the original homes of all the plants which now adorn different countries, when I saw advancing towards us a strange-looking person of very fair complexion, richly dressed and armed, and accompanied by three men on horseback, likewise armed with musket and pistols. Seeing that he was a person of consequence, I rode quickly up to him and saluted him, when he, measuring me with his eyes, halted and asked me whether I was the Christian who was expected to arrive from Kanó; and on my answering him in the affirmative, he told me distinctly that my fellow-traveller Yakúb (Mr. Richardson) had died before reaching Kúkawa, and that all his property had been seized. Looking him full in the face, I told him that this, if true, was serious news; and then he related some particulars, which left but little doubt as to the truth of his statement. When his name was asked, he called himself Ismʿaíl; I learned, however, afterwards, from other people, that he was the sheríf el Habíb, a native of Morocco, and really of noble blood, a very learned, but extremely passionate man, who, in consequence of a dispute with Mʿallem Mohammed had been just driven out of Kúkawa by the sheikh of Bórnu.

This sad intelligence deeply affected me, as it involved not only the life of an individual, but the whole fate of the mission; and though some room was left for doubt, yet in the first moment of excitement, I resolved to leave my two young men behind with the camels, and to hurry on alone on horseback. But[204] Mohammed would not hear of this proposal; and indeed as I certainly could not reach Kúkawa in less than four days, and as part of the road was greatly infested by the Tawárek, such an attempt might have exposed me to a great deal of inconvenience. But we determined to go on as fast as the camels would allow us. We halted at eleven o’clock, shaded by the trunk of an immense leafless monkey-bread-tree, a little behind the walled place Kábi, the southern quarter of which is alone inhabited, and where our friends the Tébu had encamped. Starting then together with them at two o’clock in the afternoon, we took the road by Déffowa, leaving on our right that which passes Donári, the country now assuming a more hospitable and very peculiar character.

For here begins a zone characterized by sandy downs from 100 to 120 feet high, and exhibiting on their summits a level plain of excellent arable soil, but with few trees, while the dells separating these downs one from the other, and which often wind about in the most anomalous manner, are in general richly overgrown with a rank vegetation, among which the dúm-palm and the dúm-bush are predominant. This curious formation, I fancy, has some connection with the great lagoon, which in a former period must have been of much greater extent.

The intercourse on the road this afternoon was exceedingly animated; and one motley troop followed another,—Háusa fatáki, Bórnu traders or “tugúrchi,” Kánembú Tébu, Shúwa Arabs, and others[205] of the roving tribe of the Welád Slimán, all mixed together,—while their beasts of burden formed a multifarious throng of camels, oxen, horses, and asses. The Welád Slimán, who were bringing camels for sale to the market of Kanó, were greatly frightened when I told them what had happened to their brethren near Kúka mairuá, as they were conscious that most of the camels now with them were of the number of those which two years ago had been taken from the Kél-owí in Bílma.

As evening came on, the dells which we had to traverse were thronged with thousands of wild pigeons, carrying on their amorous play in the cool twilight of approaching night. All was silent, with the exception of a distant hum, becoming more and more distinct as we wound along the side of an exuberant meandering valley. The noise proceeded from the considerable town of Déffowa, which we reached at a quarter past seven o’clock, and encamped at a little distance to the north. Lively music never ceased in the town till a late hour.

Tuesday, March 25th.All was still silent in the place when, early in the morning, I set out with my little troop to follow the track of our temporary companions the Tébu. The village was surrounded only by a light thorny fence; but it seemed to be prosperous and densely inhabited. The country continued similar in character, but better cultivated than the tract we had traversed the day before; and the immense multitude of wild pigeons, which found[206] a secure and pleasant haunt in the rank vegetation of the hollows, made it necessary to resort to some expedient to keep them off. High platforms were therefore erected in the fields, in the shade of some tree; and ropes drawn from them were fastened to poles and coated with a peculiar vegetable extract, which caused them, if put into motion by a person stationed upon the platform, to give forth a loud sound, which kept the birds at a respectful distance.

We saw here also a small cotton-field. If the country were more densely inhabited and the people more industrious and better protected by their slave-hunting governors, all the lowlands and valley-like hollows, which during the rainy season form so many water-channels, and retain a great degree of moisture during the whole year, would afford the most splendid ground for this branch of cultivation.

The repeated ascent and descent along steep slopes of deep sandy soil more than a hundred feet high was very fatiguing for the camels. While ascending one of these ridges, we had a very charming view over the whole of the neat little village of Kálowa, lying along the slope and in the hollow to our left. It was rather small, containing about two hundred huts, but every yard was shaded by a korna or bíto-tree (Balanites); and comfort (according to the wants felt by the natives) and industry were everywhere manifested. In the midst was a large open space, where the cattle were collecting round the wells to be[207] watered, while the people were drawing water to fill the large round hollows, “kéle nkíbe,” made with little clay walls to serve as troughs. The blacksmith was seen busy at his simple work, making new hoes for the approaching season; the weaver was sitting at his loom; several were making mats of reed; some women were carrying water from the wells, some spinning or cleaning the cotton, while others pounded corn for their daily consumption. The little granaries, in order to preserve the stock of corn from the danger of conflagration, which every moment threatens these light structures of straw and reed, were erected on the sandy level near the edge of the slope. Even the fowls had their little separate abodes, also of reed, very thrifty and neat, as the accompanying woodcut will show. Such was the simple but nevertheless cheerful picture which this little village exhibited. My two boys were a long way ahead of me when I awoke from my reverie and followed them.

It was shortly before we came to this village that we passed the enormous skeleton of an elephant,—the first trace of this animal which I had seen since Gazáwa (I mean the independent pagan place of that name between Tasáwa and Kátsena). The road was frequented; early in the morning we had met a party of tugúrchi with pack-oxen, who had been travelling a great part of the night, as they generally do, on account of this beast of burden bearing the[208] heat of the day very badly. About an hour’s march beyond Kálowa we met a party of horsemen coming from Kúkawa; and as their head man appeared to be an intelligent person, I approached him, and asked him the news of the place. He most probably took me for an Arab, and told me that all was well, but that the Christian who had been coming from a far distant country to pay his compliments to the sheikh had died, more than twenty days ago, in a place called Ngurútuwa, before reaching Kúkawa. There could now be no more doubt of the sad event; and with deep emotion I continued my march, praying to the Merciful to grant me better success than had fallen to the lot of my companion, and to strengthen me, that I might carry out the benevolent and humane purposes of our mission.

This district also has a very scanty supply of water; and it took us more than half an hour to collect, from four wells near another small village, a sufficient supply for my horse; but as to filling our waterskins, it was not to be thought of. The wells were ten fathoms deep. We halted half an hour before noon, not far from another well, at the foot of a sandy swell upon which the little village “Mʿallem Kerémerí” is situated. Here, as well as in the village passed in the morning, we could not obtain beans, though the cultivation of them is in general carried on to a great extent; but this district seemed to produce millet or Pennisetum typhoïdeum almost exclusively—at least no sorghum was to be seen.[209] Keeping generally along a hollow, which however was not much depressed, and which consisted of arable sandy soil with a few bushes and trees, we reached the little town or village Dunú, surrounded with a ditch and earthen wall in decay, so that the gate had become useless. There was a large open space inside, and as the inhabitants, who gave us a very cheerful welcome, advised us not to encamp outside, on account of the number of wild beasts infesting the neighbourhood, we pitched the tent inside the wall.

We might have passed a very comfortable evening with the natives, who took great interest in me, had it not been for my faithful old companion the Bu-séfi, the best (or rather the only good one) of my three camels, which, when it was growing dark, and ʿAbd-Alla went to bring the animals back from their pasture, could not be found. The careless boy had neglected to fasten the camel’s legs; and being very hungry, it had gone in search of better herbage. This was a very disagreeable accident for me, as I was in the greatest hurry; and my two young lads, who were well aware of it, went for several hours, accompanied by the inhabitants of the place, in every direction, through the whole tract where the camels had been grazing, lighting the ground with torches, but all in vain.

Wearied and exhausted, they returned about midnight and lay down to sleep, the music and dance also, which the cheerful natives had kept up, dying[210] away at the same time. About an hour later, being too much excited from anxiety to obtain sleep, I went out once more to see if all was right, when I saw my favourite coming slowly along towards the tent; and on reaching it he laid down by the side of his two inferior companions. There was no moonlight; the night was very dark; evidently only the brightness of the well-known white tent guided the “stupid” animal. But this was no great proof of stupidity; and I am rather afraid that Europeans often make camels stupid by their own foolish treatment of them, whereas I was wont to treat this noble animal, which had carried myself or the heaviest of my things all the way from Tripoli, as a sensible companion, giving it in the beginning the peel of the oranges I was eating, of which it was particularly fond, or a few of my dates (for which it did not fail to turn round its beautiful neck), or granting it a little extra feed of Negro millet, which it ate like a horse. Rejoiced at seeing my favourite, the absence of which had created such anxiety, returning of its own accord to my tent, and lying down near it, I aroused my servant from his sleep to tell him the joyful news. I wanted to reward it with some corn, but it had taken such good care of itself, that it refused its favourite food.

I was much grieved in consequence of being obliged to part with my old companion; but camels from the coast will not stand the effects of a rainy season in Negroland. I hoped it would safely return to its[211] native country; but the Arab who bought it from me, went first to Kanó when the rainy season was already setting in, and the poor animal died not far from the place where Mr. Richardson had succumbed. Its fidelity will ever remain in my memory as one of the pleasantest recollections of my journey.

Having thus got back our best carrier, though we had lost a good night’s rest, we started early next morning over the same sort of ground we had been traversing the last few days, and in two hours reached the little town of Wádi, the noise from which, caused by the pounding of grain, had been heard by us at the distance of almost a mile. Indeed the pounding of grain has betrayed many a little village and many a caravan. The town is considerable, but properly consists of two different quarters walled all round, and separated from each other by a wide open space where the cattle rest in safety. Approving very much of this way of building a town in these turbulent regions, we kept along the open space, but were greatly perplexed from the number of paths branching off in every direction, and scarcely knew which road to take.

It had been my intention originally to go to Borzári, in the hope of obtaining from the governor of that town a horseman to carry the news of my approach to the sheikh of Bórnu; but being here informed that I should be obliged to make a great circuit in order to touch at that place, I changed my plan, and took another and more direct road, which in[212] the beginning seemed a well-trodden highroad, but soon became a narrow footpath, winding along from village to village without any leading direction. However, we met several small caravans as well of Arabs, who were going to Kanó, as of native traders or tugúrchi with natron. Passing now over open cultivated ground, then through a bushy thicket, we reached, about ten o’clock in the morning, the considerable open village Kábowa, where a well-frequented and very noisy market was being held, and halted during the heat of the day under a shady tamarind-tree about five hundred yards to the south, near a “kaudi” or “kabéa tseggénabé” (a yard for weaving cotton).

We had scarcely unloaded our camels, when one of the weavers came, and, saluting me most cordially, begged me to accept of a dish of very well prepared “fura” or “tiggra,” with curdled milk, which evidently formed their breakfast. The market was very partially supplied, and did not furnish what we wanted. Natron, salt, and túrkedi, or the cloth for female dress made in Kanó, constituted the three articles which were plentiful; also a good many cattle, or rather pack-oxen, were there, besides two camels and abundance of the fruit of the dúm-palm; but meat was dear, onions extremely scarce, and beans not to be got at all, and, what was worse, the people refused to accept shells (“kúngona” in Kanúri), of which we had still a small supply, and wanted gábagá, or cotton stripes, of which we had none.[213] Our camels, therefore, which hereabouts found plenty of their favourite and nourishing food, the aghúl or Hedysarum Alhaggi, fared much better than we ourselves. The neighbourhood had rather a dreary aspect; the east wind was very high and troublesome; the well was distant, and, with a depth of eight fathoms, did not furnish the supply necessary for the numerous visitors to the market.

Early in the afternoon we continued our march, first in the company of some market-people returning to their native village, then left to our judgment to discriminate, among the numberless footpaths which intersected the country in every direction, the one which was most direct or rather least circuitous; for a direct highroad there is none. We became at length so heartily tired of groping our way alone, that we attached ourselves to a horseman who invited us to accompany him to his village, till, becoming aware that it lay too much out of our way, we ascended the slope of a sandy ridge to our right, on the summit of which was situated the village Lúshiri, where we pitched our tent.

Here also the inhabitants behaved hospitably; and I had scarcely dismounted, when a woman from a neighbouring hut brought me a bowl of ghussub-water as a refreshment. We succeeded also in buying here a good supply of beans and sorghum—or ngáberi, as it is called in Kanúri; for my Kátsena horse refused to eat the millet or argúm, and sorghum is very scarce in all this part of the country[214] as well as in many other districts of Bórnu, especially in the district of Koyám. The women of the village, who were very curious to see the interior of my tent, were greatly surprised to find that I was a bachelor, and without a female partner, accustomed, as they were, to see travellers in this country, at least those tolerably at their ease, with a train of female slaves. They expressed their astonishment in much diverting chat with each other. I got also milk and a fowl for my supper, and the bíllama afterwards brought some “ngáji” (the favourite Kanúri dish) for my men. As the situation of the village was elevated, it was most interesting to see in the evening the numerous fires of the hamlets and small towns all around, giving a favourable idea of the local population.

Thursday, March 27th.Early in the morning we continued our march; but we lost a great deal of time through ignorance of the direct way. Some of the paths appear, at times, like a well-frequented highroad, when suddenly almost every trace of them is lost. At length, at the walled town of Gobálgorúm, we learned that we were on the road to Kashímma; and we determined to keep on as straight as possible. The country which we traversed early in the morning consisted of stiff clayey soil, and produced ngáberi; but this was only a sort of basin of no great extent, and the landscape soon changed its character. After we had passed Gobálgorúm, the country became much richer in trees; and this circumstance, as well as the[215] increased number of waterfowl, indicated plainly that we were approaching a branch of the wide-spreading net of the komádugu of Bórnu.

First we came to a hollow clothed with a great profusion of vegetation and the freshest pasturage, but at present dry, with the exception of a fine pond of clear water on our left; and we marched full three miles through a dense forest before we came to the real channel, which here, running south and north, formed an uninterrupted belt of water as far as the eye could reach, but at present without any current. It looked just like an artificial canal, having almost everywhere the same breadth of about fifty yards, and, at the place where we crossed it, a depth of two feet and a half.

We halted, during the heat of the day, on its eastern shore, in the shade of one of the small gáwo-trees which border it on this side; and after our dreary and rather uninteresting march from Kanó, I was greatly delighted with the animated and luxuriant character of the scene before us. The water of this komádugu, moreover, though it was fully exposed to the power of the sun’s rays, was delightfully cool, while that from the wells was disagreeably warm, having a mean temperature of 77°, and quite unfit to drink until allowed to cool. The river was full of small fish; and about twenty boys from the village of Shógo, which lay upon the summit of the rising ground before us, were plashing about in it in playful exercise, and catching the fish with a large[216] net of peculiar make, which they dragged through the water. This komádugu too is called Wáni; and I think it more probable that this is the continuation of the branch which passes Katágum, than that the latter joins the branch of Khadéja to the southward of Zurríkulo.

While we were resting here, I was pestered a little by the curiosity of a company of gipsy-like Jétko, who, with very little luggage, traverse the country in every direction, and are the cleverest thieves in the world. I shall, on another occasion, say something about the settlements of these people along the komádugu Wáube.

A native of the village, whom we had met on the road, came afterwards, with his wife, and brought me a dish of well-cooked hasty-pudding; and on my complaining that, though in great haste, we were losing so much time, owing to our being unacquainted with the nearest road, he promised to serve us as a guide: but unfortunately I made him a present too soon; and as he did not keep his word, we preferred groping our way onwards as well as possible. Our camels had meanwhile got a good feed in the cool shade of the trees; for if exposed to the sun, these animals will not eat during the heat of the day, but prefer lying down.

With fresh spirit and energy we started, therefore, at half-past two in the afternoon, ascending the considerable slope of the ridge upon which the village stands. At this hour the sun was very powerful, and[217] none of the inhabitants were to be seen, with the exception of an industrious female who, on a clean open spot near the road, was weaving the cotton threads into gábagá. Opposite the village to the north of the path, was a round cluster of light Kánembú cottages, formed in a most simple way, with the long stalks of the native corn bent so as to meet at the top, and fastened with a few ropes. Descending immediately from this considerable ridge, we entered a dale thickly overgrown with trees, where I was greatly astonished to see a herd of cattle watered, with great trouble, from the wells, while the river was close at hand; but on addressing the neatherds, I was informed by them that the stagnant water of the komádugu at this season is very unwholesome for cattle.

All the trees hereabouts were full of locusts, while the air was darkened by swarms of hawks (Cenchreis), which, with a singular instinct, followed our steps as we advanced; for on our approaching a tree, the locusts, roused from their fatal repose and destructive revelling, took to flight in thick clouds, when the birds dashed down to catch them, often not only beating one another with their wings, but even incommoding us and our animals not a little.

The peculiar character of lofty sandy ridges and thickly overgrown hollows continued also in this district; no dúm-palm was to be seen, but only the dúm-bush, called ngílle by the Bórnu people. About two miles and a half behind Shógo we passed a wide[218] and most beautiful basin, with rich pasture-grounds enlivened by numbers of well-fed cattle. Stubble-fields, with small granaries such as I have described above, were scattered about here and there. Then keeping on through a more level country with patches of cultivation, we reached the fields of Bandégo. The village introduced itself to our notice from afar by the sound of noisy mirth; and I was surprised to hear that it was occasioned by the celebration, not of a marriage, but of a circumcision. This was the first and last time during my travels in Negroland that I saw this ceremony performed with so much noise.

We were quietly pitching our tent on the east side of the village, and I was about to make myself comfortable, when I was not a little affected by learning that the girls, who had been bringing little presents to the festival, and who were just returning in procession to their homes, belonged to Ngurútuwa, the very place where the Christian (Mr. Richardson) had died. I then determined to accompany them, though it was late, in order to have at least a short glimpse of the “white man’s grave,” and to see whether it were taken care of. If I had known, before we unloaded the camels, how near we were to the place, I should have gone there at once to spend the night.

Ngurútuwa,[50] once a large and celebrated place, but[219] at present somewhat in decay, lies in a wide and extensive plain, with very few trees, about two miles N.E. from Bandégo; but the town itself is well shaded, and has, besides kórna and bíto, some wide-spreading umbrageous fig-trees, under one of which Mr. Richardson had been buried. His grave, well-protected with thorn-bushes, appeared to have remained untouched, and was likely to remain so. The natives were well aware that it was a Christian who had died here; and they regarded the tomb with reverence. The story of his untimely end had caused some sensation in the neighbourhood. He arrived in a weak state in the evening, and early the next morning he died. The people had taken great interest in the matter; and the report they gave me of the way in which he was buried agreed in the main circumstances with that which I afterwards received from his servants, and of which I forwarded an account from Kúkawa. Unfortunately I had no means of bestowing gifts on the inhabitants of the place where my companion had died. I gave, however, a small present to a man who promised to take especial care of the grave; and I afterwards persuaded the vizier of Bórnu to have a stronger fence made round it.

It was late in the evening when I returned to my tent engrossed with reflections on my own probable fate, and sincerely thankful to the Almighty Ruler of all things for the excellent health which I still enjoyed notwithstanding the many fatigues which I had undergone. My way of looking at things was not[220] quite the same as that of my late companion, and we had therefore often had little differences; but I esteemed him highly for the deep sympathy which he felt for the sufferings of the native African, and deeply lamented his death. Full of confidence I stretched myself upon my mat, and indulged in my simple supper, accompanied with a bowl of milk which the inhabitants of Bandégo had brought me. The people were all pleased with us; only the cattle, when returning from their pastures, took offence at my strange-looking tent, which I had pitched just in the path by which they were accustomed to return to their usual resting-place.

Friday, March 28th.At an early hour we were again on the march, conducted a little while by an inhabitant of the village, who undertook to show us the direct road, which passes on its south side. He represented the road which we were about to take as much infested by the Kindín or Tawárek at that moment; and he advised us, as we went on from one place to another, to make strict inquiries as to the safety of the road before us. With this well-meant advice he left us to our own discretion; and I pursued my way with the unsatisfactory feeling that it might be again my fate to come into too close contact with my friends the Tawárek, whom I had been so glad to get rid of. Saddened with these reflections, my two young companions also seeming a little oppressed, and trudging silently along with the camels, we reached Aláune, once a considerable town, but now almost deserted,[221] and surrounded by a clay wall in a state of great decay. Accosting the people, who were just drawing water from the well inside the wall, and asking them about the state of the road, we were told that, as far as Kashímma, it was safe; but beyond that they pronounced it decidedly dangerous. We therefore continued our march with more confidence, particularly as we met some market-people coming from Kashímma.

Aláune is the same place which, by the members of the last expedition, has been called Kabshári, from the name of the then governor of the town—Bu-Bakr-Kabshári—after whom the place is even at present often called “bílla Kabsháribe” (the town of Kabshári). Keeping on through a country partly cultivated, partly covered with thick underwood, which was full of locusts, we were greatly delighted by obtaining at about eight o’clock a view of a fine sheet of water, in the dale before us, surrounded with a luxuriant vegetation, and descended cheerfully towards its shore, where two magnificent tamarind-trees spread their canopy-like foliage over a carpet of succulent turf. While enjoying this beautiful picture, I was about to allow my poor horse a little feed of the grass, when a woman, who had come to fetch water, told me that it was very unwholesome.

This is the great komádugu of Bórnu, the real name of which is “komádugu Wáube,” while, just from the same mistake which has caused Aláune to be called Kabshári, and the river of Zyrmi, Zyrmi, it has been[222] called Yeou; for though it may be called the river of Yeou, or rather of Yó, particularly in its lower course, where it passes the town of this name, it can never be called “the river Yó,” any more than the Thames, on account of its flowing through London, can be called the river London.

While ordering ʿAbd-Alla to follow with the camels along the lower road, I ascended with Mohammed the steep slope of the sandy swell, rising to about three hundred feet, on the top of which Kashímma is situated in a fine healthy situation commanding the whole valley. It is an open place, consisting entirely of huts made of corn-stalks and reeds, but is of considerable size and well inhabited. However, I was not disposed to make any halt here; and learning, to my great satisfaction, that no Kindín had been seen as far as the Eastern Ngurútuwa, I determined to go on as fast as possible, and persuaded a netmaker to point out clearly to me the road which we were to take; for we had now rather difficult ground before us—the wide bottom of the valley, with its thick forest and its several watery channels.

The path led us gradually down from the eminence upon which Kashímma is situated, into the bushy dale with a great quantity of ngílle, and also a few dúm-palms. Here we saw numerous foot-prints of the elephant, and some of enormous size; and truly the wanderer cannot be surprised that this colossal animal has taken possession of these beautiful, luxuriant shores of the komádugu, from which the native in his[223] inborn laziness has despairingly retired, and allowed them to be converted into an almost impenetrable jungle. The thicket became for a while very dense, a real jungle, such as I had not yet seen in Negroland, when a clearer spot followed, overgrown with tall coarse grass ten feet high, fed by the water which after the rainy season covers the whole of this low ground, and offering a rich pasture to the elephant. Then we had to traverse a branch of the real komádugu, at present very shallow, but at times to be crossed only with the aid of a “mákara.” In the thick covert which bordered upon this channel the dúm-palm was entirely predominant.

Though the thicket was here so dense, the path was well trodden, but as soon as we reached a place which had been cleared for cultivation we lost all traces of it, and then turned off to our right, where we saw a small village and a farm situated in the most retired spot imaginable. Here we found a cheerful old man, the master of the farm, who, on hearing that we too were going eastwards, begged us, very urgently, to spend the remainder of the day in his company, adding that he would treat us well and start early the next morning with us for Ngurútuwa; but however delightful it might appear to me to dream away half a day in this wilderness, my anxiety to reach Kúkawa compelled me to reject his proposal. However, the thicket became so dense, that we had the utmost difficulty in getting my bulky luggage through it.

[224]Having made a short halt about noon to refresh ourselves and our animals, we continued our march through the forest, which here consisted principally of dúm-palms, farʿaón, kálgo, talha-trees, and a little siwák or Capparis sodata. The ground was covered with the heavy footprints of the elephant, and even at this season it retained many ponds in the channel-like hollows. A solitary maráya or mohhor (Antilope Soemmeringii) bounded through the thicket; indeed antelopes of any species are rare in these quarters, and on the whole road I had seen but a single gazelle, near the village Díggere-báre. But it seems remarkable that from the description of the natives there cannot be the least doubt that that large and majestic variety of antelope called addax, which is very much like a large stag, is occasionally found here. A fine open space with rich pastures and with hurdle-inclosures interrupted the thicket for about a mile, after which we had to traverse another thick covert, and emerging from it were agreeably surprised at beholding a lake of considerable dimensions on our left, and after a short interval another still more considerable approaching from the north and turning eastward, its surface furrowed by the wind and hurrying along in little billows which dashed upon the shore. On its eastern side lie the ruins of the celebrated town Ghámbarú, which although not the official residence of the kings of Bórnu, was nevertheless their favourite retreat during the flourishing period of the empire; and those two lakes, although[225] connected with the komádugu and fed by it, were artificial basins, and seem to have considerable depth; else they could scarcely have presented such a magnificent sheet of water at this season of the year.

But at present all this district, the finest land of Bórnu in the proper sense of the word, which once resounded with the voices and bustle of hundreds of towns and villages, has become one impenetrable jungle, the domain of the elephant and the lion, and with no human inhabitants except a few scattered herdsmen or cattle-breeders, who are exposed every moment to the predatory inroads of the Tawárek. This condition of the finest part of the country is a disgrace to its present rulers, who have nothing to do but to transfer hither a few hundreds of their lazy slaves, and establish them in a fortified place, whereupon the natives would immediately gather round them and change this fine country along the komádugu from an impenetrable jungle into rich fields, producing not only grain but also immense quantities of cotton and indigo.

The town of Ghámbarú was taken and destroyed by the Jemáʿa of the Fúlbe or Felláta at the same time with Ghasréggomo, or Bírni, in the year of the Héjra 1224, or 1809 of our era, and has not been since reoccupied, so that the ruins are thickly overgrown and almost enveloped in the forest. Although I had not leisure to survey attentively the whole area of the town, I could not help dismounting and looking with great interest at a tolerably well[226] preserved building, evidently part of a mosque, at the south-eastern corner of the wall. I knew, from the report of the last expedition, that there were here remains of brick buildings; but I did not expect to find the workmanship so good. The bricks are certainly not so regularly-shaped as in Europe, but in other respects they seemed quite as good. It is indeed a source of mournful reflection for the traveller to compare this solid mode of building practised in former times in this country, at least by its rulers, with the frail and ephemeral architecture of the present day; but this impression of retrograding power and resources is caused also by the history of the country, which we shall soon lay before our readers. Even in the half-barbarous country of Bagírmi we may still find the remains of very extensive brick buildings.

Overtaking the two young companions of my adventurous journey, I travelled on through an interesting but wild country, when at five o’clock in the afternoon a branch of the river once more approached on our left, and soon cut across our path, leaving no trace of it. I felt sure that the track crossed the river here, but unfortunately allowed myself to be overruled by my servant (who was in truth an experienced lad); and accordingly we kept along the sandy border of the channel, following the traces of cattle till we became assured that there was no path in this place. Having searched for about two hours, we were at last compelled, by the[227] darkness which had set in, to encamp in the midst of this dense forest; and I chose a small hillock on the border of the river, in order to protect myself, as well as possible, from the noxious exhalations, and spread my tent over my luggage, in the midst of which I arranged my bed. I then strewed, in a circle round our little encampment, dry wood and other fuel, to be kindled in case of an attack of wild beasts, and, taking out a parcel of cartridges, prepared for the worst. However, we passed a quiet night, disturbed only by the roaring of a lion on the other side of the river, and by a countless multitude of waterfowl of various species, playing and splashing about in the water the whole night.

Saturday, March 29th.Having convinced myself that the river could be crossed by the path only at the place where we first came upon it, I mounted early in the morning, after we had loaded the camels, and returned to that spot, when, having crossed the stream, I found the continuation of the path on the other side. At length we were again en route, having lost altogether about three hours of our precious time. However, my companions thought that nevertheless we should not have been able the previous evening, in the twilight, to reach the next station, the name of which is also Ngurútuwa; so dense was the forest in some places, and such difficulty had we in getting through with our luggage, so that we were at times almost reduced to despair.

Beyond the village mentioned we should not[228] have succeeded in finding an outlet, had we not met with some shepherds who were tending numerous flocks of sheep and goats. All was one thorny covert, where kaña and bírgim, the African plum-tree, were, together with mimosa, the predominant trees. Near the village, however, which lies in the midst of the forest, very fine fields of wheat occupied a considerable open space, the corn standing now about a foot and a half high, and presented a most charming sight, particularly when compared with the scanty industry which we had hitherto observed in this, the finest part of the country.

Keeping then close to the narrow path, we reached, half an hour before noon, an open place of middle size called Míkibá, and halted between the village and the well, which, being in a hollow, is only three fathoms deep. Being obliged to allow the camels a good feed, as they had got nothing the previous evening, we did not start again till four o’clock in the afternoon; and it was in vain that I endeavoured to buy some provisions from the inhabitants with the few indifferent articles which I had to offer them: the small fancy wares of Nuremberg manufacture proved too worthless and frail even for these barbarians. The people, however, endeavoured to frighten us by their accounts of the roads before us—and indeed, as it afterwards appeared, they were not quite wrong; but we could not stay a night with people so inhospitable, and, besides, I had lost already too much time.

[229]Confiding, therefore, in my good luck, I was again in the saddle by four o’clock, the country being now clearer of wood, though generally in a wild, neglected state. After a little more than two miles’ march, near a patch of cultivated ground I saw a group of three monkeys of the same species, apparently, as those in Ásben. In general, monkeys seem not to be frequent in the inhabited parts of Negroland. The day with its brightness was already fading away, and darkness setting in filled us with anxiety as to where we might pass the night with some security, when, to our great delight, we observed in the distance to our right the light of some fires glittering through a thicket of dúm-palms, tamarinds, and other large trees. We endeavoured, therefore, to open a path to them, cheered in our effort by the pleasing sound of dance and song which came from the same direction.

It proved to be a wandering company of happy herdsmen, who bade us a hearty welcome after they had recognized us as harmless travellers; and, well satisfied at seeing our resolution thus rewarded, we pitched our tent in the midst of their huts and numerous herds. Entering then into conversation with them, I learnt to my astonishment that they were neither Kanúri nor Háusa people, but Felláta, or Fúlbe of the tribe of the Óbore[51], who, notwithstanding[230] the enmity existing between their kinsmen and the ruler of Bórnu, are allowed to pasture their herds here in full security, so far as they are able to defend themselves against the robberies of the Tawárek, and without even paying any tribute to the sheikh. However, their immigration into this country does not date from very ancient times; and they appear not to have kept their stock pure from intermixture, so that they have lost almost all the national marks of the Fulfúlde race.

They seemed to be in easy circumstances, the elder men bringing me each of them an immense bowl of milk, and a little fresh butter as cleanly prepared as in any English or Swiss dairy. This was a substantial proof of their nationality; for all over Bórnu no butter is prepared except with the dirty and disgusting addition of some cow’s urine, and it is all in a fluid state. The hospitable donors were greatly delighted when I gave to each of them a sailor’s knife; but on our part we were rather perplexed by their bounty, as I and my two boys might easily have drowned ourselves in such a quantity of milk. Meanwhile, as I was chatting with the old people, the younger ones continued their singing and dancing till a late hour with a perseverance most amusing, though little favourable for our night’s rest; moreover, we were startled several times[231] by some of the cattle, which lay close to our tent, starting up occasionally and running furiously about. There was a lion very near; but the blaze of the fires kept him off. Our friends did not possess a single dog—but this was another mark of nationality; they rely entirely upon their own watchfulness.

In consequence of our disturbed night’s rest, we set out at rather a late hour, accompanied by two of our friends, in order to show us the ford of the komádugu, which, they told us, ran close to their encampment. And it was well that we had their assistance; for though the water was but three feet deep at the spot where they led us through, it was much deeper on both sides, and we might easily have met with an accident. It was here about five and thirty yards across, and was quite stagnant. It is, doubtless, the same water which I had crossed at Kashímma, where, with its several branches, it occupied an immense valley, and again just before I came to the Eastern Ngurútuwa.

Our hospitable friends did not leave us till they had assisted us through the extremely dense covert which borders the eastern bank of the river. They then returned, recommending us very strongly to be on our guard, as we should have the komádugu always on our left, where some robbers were generally lurking. We had not proceeded far when we met an archer on horseback following the traces of a band of Tawárek, who, as he told us, had last night made an attack upon another encampment or village[232] of herdsmen, but had been beaten off. He pursued his way in order to make out whether the robbers had withdrawn. An archer on horseback is an unheard-of thing not only in Bórnu, but in almost all Negroland, except with the Fúlbe; but even among them it is rare. Fortunately the country was here tolerably open, so that we could not be taken by surprise, and we were greatly reassured when we met a troop of native travellers, three of whom were carrying each a pair of bukhsa or ngibú, immense calabashes joined at the bottom by a piece of strong wood, but open on the top.

These are the simple ferry-boats of the country, capable of carrying one or two persons, who have nothing besides their clothes (which they may deposit inside the calabashes), safely, but certainly not dryly across a stream. In order to transport heavier things, three pairs, joined in the way I shall have an opportunity of describing at another time, will form a sufficiently buoyant raft. This would form the most useful expedient for any European traveller who should undertake to penetrate into the equatorial regions, which abound in water; but if he has much luggage, he ought to have four pairs of calabashes, and a strong frame to extend across them.

The great advantage of such a portable boat is, that the parts can be most easily carried on men’s backs through the most rugged and mountainous regions, while the raft so formed will be strong enough, if the parts are well fastened together,[233] for going down a river; but of course if they came into contact with rocks, the calabashes would be liable to break. Horses must swim across a river in these countries; but even their crossing a powerful stream safely would be greatly facilitated if they were protected against the current by such a float lying along their sides. On my succeeding journeys I often wished to be in the possession of such a boat.

Amusing myself with such thoughts, and indulging in happy anticipations of future discoveries, I continued my solitary march cheerfully and with confidence. To our left the channel of the komádugu once approached, but soon receded again and gave way to the site of a considerable deserted town, containing at present but a small hamlet of cattle-breeders, and called significantly “fáto ghaná” (few huts). This was the site of the celebrated town of Dámasak. The country was here adorned with trees of fine foliage, and was enlivened besides by large flocks of goats and sheep, and by a small caravan which we fell in with. We then passed, on our right, a considerable pool of stagnant water, apparently caused by the overflowing of the komádugu, and further on observed a few patches of cotton-ground well fenced and protected from the cattle. Then followed stubble-fields adorned with fine trees, in the shade of which the cattle reposed in animated groups. The soil consisted of sand, and was burrowed throughout in large holes by the earth-hog (Orycteropus Æthiopicus).

Thus about half-past ten we reached the neat little village Ájirí, and encamped at a short distance from[234] it, under a cluster of beautiful and shady tamarind-trees, not knowing that, as the cemetery of some venerated persons, it was a sanctified place; however, on being informed of this circumstance, we were careful not to pollute it. I now learned that I had not followed the shortest track to Kúkawa, which passes by Kamsándi, but that Yusuf (Mr. Richardson’s interpreter), with the Christian’s property, had also taken this road. I might therefore have pursued my journey directly to that residence, and should have had the company of a corn-caravan, which was about to set forward in the afternoon; but as it was absolutely necessary that I should send word to the sheikh that I was coming, and as there was no other governor or officer on the track before me from whom I might obtain a decent and trustworthy messenger, I preferred going a little more out of my way in order to visit the Kashélla Khér-Alla, an officer stationed by the sheikh in the most exposed place of this district, in order to protect it against the inroads of the Tawárek.

Having, therefore, taken a hearty leave of the villagers, who had all collected round me, listening with astonishment and delight to the performance of my musical box, I started again at an early hour in the afternoon, accompanied, for a little while, by the bíllama, and continuing in a north-easterly direction. The country in general presented nothing but pasture-grounds, with only some cultivation of grain and patches of cotton-fields near the hamlet Yerálla, which,[235] after a little more than three miles, we passed on our left. Further on the komádugu again approached on the same side; and we were obliged to go round it in a sharp angle to reach the village where the Kashélla had his residence.

Having pitched the tent, I went to pay him my compliments, and had the satisfaction to find him a friendly, cheerful person, who at once ordered one of his best men to mount and to start for Kúkawa, in order to carry to the vizier the news of my arrival. He is a liberated slave, who, having distinguished himself by his valour in the unfortunate battle at Kúsuri, has been stationed here at the vizier’s suggestion. His power, however, is not great, considering the wide extent of the district which he has to protect, as he has only seventy horsemen under his command, twenty of whom are constantly employed in watching the motions of the predatory bands of the Tawárek. These are chiefly the inhabitants of the little principality of Alákkos, of which I have had occasion to speak above, who, like all the Tawárek, in general are not very fond of serious fighting, but rather try to carry off a good booty, in slaves or cattle, by surprise. Khér-Alla has already done a great deal for the security and welfare of the district where he resides, the population of which is intermixed with Tébu elements, and cannot be trusted; but he evidently cannot extend his protecting hand much further westward than Ájiri.

Feeling deeply the disgraceful state of this, the[236] finest portion of Bórnu, I afterwards advised the vizier to build watch-towers all along the komádugu, from the town Yó as far as the western Ngurútuwa, the place where Mr. Richardson died, which would make it easy to keep off the sudden inroads of those predatory tribes, and, in consequence, the whole country would become the secure abode of a numerous population; but even the best of these mighty men cares more for the silver ornaments of his numerous wives than for the welfare of his people.

I presented Khér-Alla with a red cap, a pair of English scissors, and some other small things; and he spent the whole evening in my tent, listening with delight to the cheerful Swiss air played by my musical box.

Monday, March 31st.At a tolerably early hour, I set out to continue my march, accompanied by a younger brother and a trusty servant of the kashélla, both on horseback, and traversed the entire district. It is called Dúchi, and is well inhabited in a great number of widely-scattered villages. The soil is sandy, and corn-fields and pasture-grounds succeed each other alternately; but I did not see much cattle. I was astonished also to find so little cultivation of cotton. Having met a small troop of tugúrchi with pack-oxen, we made a halt, a little after eleven o’clock, near the first village of the district, Dímberwá.

My two companions wanted to obtain here a guide for me, but were unsuccessful; however, after we[237] had started again at three o’clock, they procured a man from the bíllama of the next village, and then left me. I wished to obtain a guide to conduct me at once to Kúkawa; but I was obliged to submit to this arrangement, though nothing is more tedious and wearisome than to be obliged to change the guide at every little place, particularly if the traveller be in a hurry. It might be inferred, from the number of little paths crossing each other in every direction, that the country is thickly inhabited; and a considerable troop of tugúrchi gave proof of some intercourse. Dark-coloured, swampy ground, called “ánge,” at times interrupted the sandy soil, which was covered with fine pasture; and we gradually ascended a little. I had already changed my guide four times, when, after some trouble, I obtained another at the village Gúsumrí; but the former guide had scarcely turned his back, when his successor in office decamped, most probably in order not to miss his supper, and, after some useless threatening, I had again to grope my way onward as well as I could. Darkness was already setting in when I encamped near the village Bággem, where I was treated hospitably by the inhabitants of the nearest cottage.

Tuesday, April 1st.Keeping through an open country with sandy soil and good pasture, we reached, a little after nine o’clock, the well of Úra, a village lying at some distance to the left of the path, and here filled a waterskin, and watered the horse; but, hurrying on as we were, perhaps we did not allow the[238] poor beast sufficient time to fill his stomach. Having then marched on through an open country, where large trees cease altogether, only detached clusters of bushes appearing here and there, and where we saw a large herd of ostriches and a troop of gazelles, we halted a little before noon in the scanty shade of a small Balanites.

About two o’clock in the afternoon, after man and beast had enjoyed a little repose and food, we prepared to continue our march; and my horse was already saddled, my bernús hanging over the saddle, when I perceived that my two youngsters could not manage our swift and capricious she-camel, and that, having escaped from their hands, although her forelegs were tied together, she baffled all their efforts to catch her again. Confiding, therefore, in the staid and obedient disposition of my horse, I ran to assist them, and we at length succeeded in catching the camel; but when I returned to the place where I had left my horse, it was gone, and it was with some difficulty that we found its tracks, showing that it had returned in the direction whence we had come. It had strayed nearly as far as the well of Úra, when it was most fortunately stopped by some musketeers marching to Kúkawa, who met my boy, when he had already gone halfway in pursuit of it.

In consequence of this contretemps, it was five o’clock when we again set out on our march; and in order to retrieve the lost time, I kept steadily[239] on till half an hour before midnight. At seven o’clock we passed a considerable village called Búwa, where the troops, horse and foot, which had passed us some time before, had taken up their quarters, and two miles further on we had villages on our right and left; but still there were few signs of population, probably because, owing to the lateness of the hour, the fires were extinguished. We encamped, at length, near a small village, but had reason to repent our choice; for while we were unable to procure a drop of water, the inhabitants being obliged to bring their supply from a considerable distance, we were annoyed the whole night by a violent quarrel between a man and his two wives. But here I must remark that I very rarely witnessed such disgusting scenes during the whole of my travels in Negroland.

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[240]CHAP. XXVIII.

ARRIVAL IN KÚKAWA.

Wednesday, April 2nd.This was to be a most momentous day of my travels; for I was to reach that place which was the first distinct object of our mission, and I was to come into contact with those people on whose ill or good-will depended the whole success of our mission.

Although encamped late at night, we were again up at an early hour; but in endeavouring to return to the track which we had left the preceding night, we inadvertently crossed it, and so came to another village, with a very numerous herd of cattle, where we became aware of our error, and then had to regain the main road.

Two miles afterwards there was a very great change in the character of the country; for the sandy soil which had characterized the district all along the komádugu now gave way to clay, where water is only met with at considerable depth. We met a troop of tugúrchi, who informed us that none of the villages along our track at the present moment had a supply of water, not even the considerable village Kangáruwa, but that at the never-failing well of[241] Beshér I should be able to water my horse. This news only served to confirm me in my resolution to ride on in advance, in order as well to water my poor beast before the greatest heat of the day, as to reach the residence in good time.

I therefore took leave of my two young servants, and, giving Mohammed strict orders to follow me with the camels as fast as possible, I hastened on. The wooded level became now interrupted from time to time by bare naked concavities, or shallow hollows, consisting of black sedimentary soil, where, during the rainy season, the water collects and, drying up gradually, leaves a most fertile sediment for the cultivation of the másakwá. This is a peculiar kind of holcus, (Holcus cernuus,) which forms a very important article in the agriculture of Bórnu. Sown soon after the end of the rainy season, it grows up entirely by the fructifying power of the soil, and ripens with the assistance only of the abundant dews, which fall here usually in the months following the rainy season. These hollows, which are the most characteristic natural feature in the whole country, and which encompass the south-western corner of the great lagoon of Central Africa throughout a distance of more than sixty miles from its present shore, are called “ghadír” by the Arabs, “fírki,” or “ánge,” by the Kanúri. Indeed they amply testify to the far greater extent of the lagoon in ante-historical times.

Pushing on through a country of this description, and passing several villages, I reached about noon[242] Beshér, a group of villages scattered over the corn-fields, where numerous horsemen of the sheikh were quartered; and being unable myself to find the well, I made a bargain with one of the people to water my horse, for which he exacted from me forty “kúngona” or cowries. However, when I had squatted down for a moment’s rest in the shade of a small talha-tree, his wife, who had been looking on, began to reprove him for driving so hard a bargain with a young inexperienced stranger; and then she brought me a little tiggra and curdled milk diluted with water, and afterwards some ngáji, or paste of sorghum.

Having thus recruited my strength, I continued my march; but my horse, not having fared so well, was nearly exhausted. The heat was intense; and therefore we proceeded but slowly till I reached Kálilwá, when I began seriously to reflect on my situation, which was very peculiar. I was now approaching the residence of the chief whom the mission, of which I had the honour to form part, was especially sent out to salute, in a very poor plight, without resources of any kind, and left entirely by myself owing to the death of the director. I was close to this place, a large town, and was about to enter it without a single companion. The heat being just at its highest, no living being was to be seen either in the village or on the road; and I hesitated a moment, considering whether it would not be better to wait here for my camels. But my timid reluctance being confounded by the thought that my people might be far behind,[243] and that if I waited for them we should find no quarters prepared for us, I spurred on my nag, and soon reached the western suburb of Kúkawa.

Proceeding with some hesitation towards the white clay wall which encircles the town, and which from a little distance could scarcely be distinguished from the adjoining ground, I entered the gate, being gazed at by a number of people collected here, and who were still more surprised when I inquired for the residence of the sheikh. Then passing the little daily market (the dyrríya), which was crowded with people, I rode along the déndal, or promenade, straight up to the palace, which borders the promenade towards the east. It is flanked by a very indifferent mosque, built likewise of clay, with a tower at its N.W. corner, while houses of grandees inclose the place on the north and south sides. The only ornament of this place is a fine chédia or caoutchouc-tree in front of the house of ʿAli Ladán, on the south side; but occasionally it becomes enlivened by interesting groups of Arabs and native courtiers in all the finery of their dress, and of their richly caparisoned horses.

The sheikh, though he usually resides in his palace in the eastern town, was at present here; and the slaves stared at me, without understanding, or caring to understand, what I wanted, until Díggama, the storekeeper, was called, who, knowing something of me as ʿAbd el Kerím, ordered a slave to conduct me to the vizier. Though I had heard some account of the sheikh living out of the western town, I was[244] rather taken by surprise at seeing the large extent of the double town; and I was equally astonished at the number of gorgeously-dressed horsemen whom I met on my way.

Considering my circumstances, I could not have chosen a more favourable moment for arriving. About two hundred horsemen were assembled before the house of the vizier, who was just about to mount his horse in order to pay his daily visit to the sheikh. When he came out, he saluted me in a very cheerful way, and was highly delighted when he heard and saw that I had come quite alone. He told me he had known me already, from the letter which I had sent to his agent in Zínder stating that I would come after I had finished my business, but not before. While he himself rode in great state to the sheikh, he ordered one of his people to show me my quarters. These were closely adjoining the vizier’s house, consisting of two immense courtyards, the more secluded of which inclosed, besides a half-finished clay dwelling, a very spacious and neatly-built hut. This, as I was told, had been expressly prepared for the mission before it was known that we were without means.

I had scarcely taken possession of my quarters when I received several visits from various parties attached to the mission, who all at once made me quite au fait of all the circumstances of my not very enviable situation as one of its surviving members. The first person who called upon me was Ibrahím, the carpenter, who, at Mr. Richardson’s request, had[245] been sent up from Tripoli, at the monthly salary of twenty mahbúbs besides a sum of four dollars for his maintenance. He was certainly a handsome young man, about twenty-two years of age, a native of “the holy house” (Bét el mogaddus) or Jerusalem, with big sounding phrases in his mouth, and quite satisfied to return with me directly to Fezzán without having done anything. Then came his more experienced and cheerful companion, ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, a real sailor, who was not so loud in his clamours, but urged more distinctly the payment of his salary, which was equal to that of Ibrahím.

After I had consoled these dear friends, and assured them that I had no idea at present of returning northwards, and that I should do my best to find the means of satisfying the most urgent of their claims, there arrived another of the bloodsuckers of the mission, and the most thirsty of them all. It was my colleague, the bibulous Yusuf, son of Mukni the former governor of Fezzán, accompanied by Mohammed ben Bu-Sʿad, whom Mr. Richardson, when he discharged Yusuf in Zínder, had taken into his service in his stead, and by Mohammed ben Habíb, the least serviceable of Mr. Richardson’s former servants. Yusuf was mounted upon a fine horse, and most splendidly dressed; but he was extremely gracious and condescending, as he entertained the hope that my boxes and bags, which had just arrived with my faithful Gatróni, were full of shells, and that I should be able to pay his salary at once. He was greatly puzzled when I informed him[246] of my extreme poverty. Mr. Richardson’s other servants, to my great regret, had gone off the day before, unpaid as they were, in order to regain their various homes.

I now ascertained that the pay due to Mr. Richardson’s servants amounted to more than three hundred dollars; besides which there was the indefinite debt to the Sfáksi, amounting in reality to twelve hundred and seventy dollars, but which, by the form in which the bill had been given, might easily be doubled. I did not possess a single dollar, a single bernús, nor anything of value, and moreover was informed by my friends that I should be expected to make both to the sheikh and to the vizier a handsome present of my own. I now saw also that what the sheríf el Habíb had told me on the road (viz. that all Mr. Richardson’s things had been divided and squandered) was not altogether untrue. At least, they had been deposited with the vizier on very uncertain conditions, or rather had been delivered up to him by the two interpreters of our late companion, intimating to him that I and Mr. Overweg were quite subordinate people attached to the mission, and that we had no right to interfere in the matter.

Seeing how matters stood, I thought it best, in order to put a stop to the intrigues which had been set a going, to take Mohammed ben Sʿad into my service on the same salary which he had received from Mr. Richardson. Besides, I pledged my word to all that they should each receive what was due to him,[247] only regretting that the rest of Mr. Richardson’s people had already gone away.

After all these communications, fraught with oppressive anxiety, I received a most splendid supper as well from the sheikh as from the vizier, and, after the various exertions of the day, enjoyed a quiet night’s rest in my clean cottage.

Thus strengthened, I went the next morning to pay my respects to the vizier, taking with me a small present of my own, the principal attractions of which lay in a thick twisted lace of silk of very handsome workmanship, which I had had made in Tripoli, and a leathern letter-case of red colour, which I had brought with me from Europe. Destitute as I was of any means, and not quite sure as yet whether Her Britannic Majesty’s Government would authorize me to carry out the objects of the mission, I did not deem it expedient to assume too much importance, but simply told the vizier that, though the director of the mission had not been fortunate enough to convey to him and the sheikh with his own mouth the sentiments of the British Government, yet I hoped that, even in this respect, these endeavours would not be quite in vain, although at the present moment our means were so exhausted that, even for executing our scientific plans, we were entirely dependent on their kindness.

The same reserve I maintained in my interview with the sheikh on the morning of Friday, when I laid little stress upon the object of our mission (to obtain security of commerce for English merchants),[248] thinking it better to leave this to time, but otherwise dwelling upon the friendship established between the sheikh’s father and the English, and representing to them that, relying upon this manifestation of their friendly disposition, we had come without reserve to live awhile among them, and under their protection and with their assistance to obtain an insight into this part of the world, which appeared so strange in our eyes. Our conversation was quite free from constraint or reserve, as nobody was present besides the sheikh and the vizier.

I found the sheikh (ʿOmár, the eldest son of Mohammed el Amín el Kánemy) a very simple, benevolent, and even cheerful man. He has regular and agreeable features, rather a little too round to be expressive; but he is remarkably black—a real glossy black, such as is rarely seen in Bórnu, and which he has inherited undoubtedly from his mother, a Bagirmaye princess. He was very simply dressed in a light tobe, having a bernús negligently wrapped round his shoulder; round his head a dark-red shawl was twisted with great care; and his face was quite uncovered, which surprised me not a little, as his father used to cover it in the Tawárek fashion. He was reclining upon a diván covered with a carpet, at the back of a fine airy hall neatly polished.

My presents were very small, the only valuable article among them being a nice little copy of the Kurán, which on a former occasion I had bought in Egypt for five pounds sterling, and was now carrying[249] with me for my own use. That I made a present of this book to the prince may perhaps be regarded with an unfavourable eye by some persons in this country; but let them consider it as a sign of an unprejudiced mind, and of the very high esteem in which he held me, that, although knowing me to be a Christian, he did not refuse to accept from my hands that which was most holy in his eyes. On the whole I could not have expected a more friendly reception, either from the sheikh or from his vizier. But there was a very delicate point which I was obliged to touch upon: what was to become of Mr. Richardson’s property?

In the afternoon I went again to the vizier, and requested to see the inventory of all that my late companion had left; and he showed it to me and read it himself. He then ordered the box to be opened, which contained clothes and papers; and I was glad to see that not only the journals, upon the keeping of which Mr. Richardson had bestowed great care, but also all his other collectanea were safe. Having taken the inventory with me, I sent Mohammed the following day to him with the request that Mr. Richardson’s property should be delivered to me. Having been desired to call myself at noon, I went, but was surprised to find only Lamíno (properly El Amín), the vizier’s confidential officer, of whom I shall have occasion to speak hereafter. I was still more surprised when only some of Mr. Richardson’s boxes were brought in, and I was desired to select what I wanted, and leave the rest behind. This I refused[250] to do, and asked where the other things were, when Lamíno did not hesitate to declare that the ornamented gun and the handsome pair of pistols had been sold. Upon hearing this, though I had been treated very kindly and hospitably on my arrival, and had received immense quantities of provision of every kind, I could not refrain from declaring that if in truth they had behaved so unscrupulously with other people’s property I had nothing more to do here, and returned to my quarters immediately.

My firmness had its desired effect; and late in the evening I received a message from the vizier, that if I wanted to have a private interview with him I might come now, as during the daytime he was always troubled by the presence of a great many people. The person who brought me this message was Háj Edrís, a man of whom in the course of my proceedings I shall have to speak repeatedly. Satisfied with having an opportunity of conversing with the vizier without reserve, I followed the messenger immediately, and found Háj Beshír quite alone, sitting in an inner court of his house, with two small wax candles by his side. We then had a long interview, which lasted till midnight, and the result of which was that I protested formally against the sale of those things left by Mr. Richardson, and insisted that all should be delivered to me and to Mr. Overweg as soon as he should arrive, when we would present to the sheikh and to the vizier, in a formal manner, all those articles which we knew our companion had intended[251] to give to them. Besides, I urged once more the necessity of forwarding the news of Mr. Richardson’s death, and of my safe arrival, as soon as possible, as, after our late misfortunes in Aïr, Her Britannic Majesty’s Government, as well as our friends, would be most anxious about our safety. I likewise tried to persuade my benevolent and intelligent host that he might do a great service to the mission, if he would enable us to carry out part of our scientific purposes without delay, as Government would certainly not fail to honour us with their confidence, if they saw that we were going on. Having carried all my points, and being promised protection and assistance to the widest extent, I indulged in a more friendly chat, and, delighted by the social character of my host, and full of the most confident hopes for my future proceedings, withdrew a little after midnight.

Having in this way vindicated the honourable character of the mission, and my own, I applied myself with more cheerfulness to my studies and inquiries, for which I found ample opportunity; for many distinguished personages from distant countries were staying here at this time, partly on their journey to or from Mekka, partly only attracted by the fame of the vizier’s hospitable and bounteous character. But before I give any account of my stay in Kúkawa previous to my setting out for Adamáwa, I think it well to try to impart to the reader a more lively interest in the country to which he has thus[252] been transferred, by laying before him a short account of its history, as I have been able to make it out from original documents and from oral information.

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[253]CHAP. XXIX.

AUTHENTICITY AND GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE HISTORY OF BÓRNU.

Any writer who attempts to recall from obscurity and oblivion the past ages of an illiterate nation, and to lay before the public even the most elementary sketch of its history, will probably have to contend against the strong prejudices of numerous critics, who are accustomed to refuse belief to whatever is incapable of bearing the strictest inquiry.

The documents upon which the history of Bórnu is based, besides the scanty information contained in the narratives of recent explorers, are—

1. A chronicle (“diván”), or rather the dry and sterile abridgment of a chronicle, comprising the whole history of Bórnu, from the earliest time down to Ibrahím, the last unfortunate offspring of the royal family, who had just ascended the crumbling throne of the Bórnu empire when the last English expedition arrived in that country. 6 pp. 4to.[52]

[254]2. Two other still shorter lists of the Bórnu kings.

3. A detailed history of the first twelve years of the reign of the king Edrís Alawóma, consisting of two parts, in my copy one of 77 and the other of 145 pages, and written by a contemporary of the above-mentioned king, the imám Ahmed, son of Sofíya. Of this very interesting and important history a copy was forwarded by the late vizier of Bórnu, Háj Beshír ben Tiráb, at my urgent request[53], to Her Britannic Majesty’s Government, and is now in the Foreign Office; another copy I myself have brought back.

4. A few facts regarding the history of this country, mentioned by Arabic writers, such as Ebn Sʿaid (A.D. 1282), Ebn Batúta (A.D. 1353), Ebn Khaldún (A.D. 1381/2), and Makrízi (about A.D. 1400), Leo Africanus (A.D. 1528).

5. A short document containing information about embassies sent to Tripoli by some Bórnu kings, and published in the “Bulletin de la Société Géographique de Paris,” 1849, 252. ff.

I now proceed to inquire into the character of the first of these documents, which is the only one among them comprising the whole history of Bórnu, and which therefore forms the basis of our tables. The most momentous question is,—upon what authority this document rests, and when it was compiled. As for the first point, I have been assured by Shitíma[255] Makarémma (a man intimately connected with the old dynasty, who made the two copies for me, and of whom some notice will be found in my journal) that it is a mere extract from a more voluminous work, which he represented as still existing, but which I was unable to procure, as it is carefully concealed. The whole business of collecting documents and information relative to the history of the old dynasty was most difficult, and demanded much discretion, as the new dynasty of the Kánemíyín endeavours to obliterate as much as possible the memory of the old Kanúri dynasty, and has assiduously destroyed all its records wherever they could be laid hold of.

As regards the time when the chronicle, of which the manuscript in question is a very meagre and incorrect abridgment, was written, it is stated that the various parts of it were composed at different times, at the beginning of every new reign; and the question is, when the Kanúri people, or rather their ʿulama, began to commit to writing the most important facts of their history. This question we are fortunately enabled, from Imám Ahmed’s work, to answer satisfactorily; namely, that there existed no written record whatever of the history of his country previous to the king Edrís Katakarmábi, whose reign falls in the first half of the sixteenth century of our era. For when that writer refers to facts of the older history, he is only able to cite as his authority oral information received from old men versed in historical tradition; and he evidently mentions[256] as the oldest author of a written history, the fákih Masfárma ʿOmár ben ʿOthmán, who wrote the history of the king in question.

The annals, therefore, of the time preceding the period of this king and of his predecessor ʿAli Gajidéni, appear to be based entirely upon oral information, and cannot but be liable to a certain degree of inaccuracy as to the actions attributed to each king, the length of their respective reigns, and even the order of succession, where it was not dependent on genealogy or descent. For it would be the extreme of hypercriticism to deny that the royal family of Bórnu, in the middle of the 16th century, could not or may not justly be supposed to have preserved with great precision their line of descent for fifteen or twenty generations; and in this respect the chronicle No. 1. is entirely confirmed and borne out by Imám Ahmed, who, in the introduction to his History, gives the pedigree of his master Edrís Alawóma up to his first royal ancestor, while the difference in the form of the names, and one slight variance in the order of succession, as given by these two documents, is a plain proof that they have not been borrowed from each other, but have been based on independent authorities.

The disagreement in question is certainly a remarkable one; but it is easily explained. For Makrízi, in harmony with the extract from the chronicle, names the father of the kings Edrís and Dáud (whose reign he places about the year 700 of the Hejra), Ibrahím,[257] while Imám Áhmed calls them sons of Nikále son of Ibrahím; and this is the general statement of the natives of the country even at the present time, every educated man knowing “Dáúd tata Nikálebe,” or Dáúd Nikálemi. The fact is, that the name Bíri, which the chronicle attributes to the father of Ibrahím the grandfather of Edrís and Dáúd, being a variation of the form Bíram, is identical with Ibrahím; whence it appears that Nikále was another name of Ibrahím the son of Bíri. The same is the case with regard to the names Áhmed and Dúnama, which are identical, if not with regard to their meanings, at least with regard to their applications, as well as the names Sélma or Sélmama and ʿAbd el Jelíl.

This general harmony between the pedigree of the Bórnu kings as given by the chronicle No. 1. and the Imám Áhmed, a learned and clever man in a high position, and in constant connection with the court, is, I think, very satisfactory, and the more so if we take into consideration that, from a reason which I shall soon mention, and which at the same time is a strong argument in favour of the authenticity of these two documents, the pedigree as given by them is not the only one current in Bórnu, but the line of descent and succession varies greatly in one of the two other short chronicles which are mentioned in No. 2., while the third one, which does not appear to make any pretensions to completeness, cannot be taken into account here. Hence, as far as regards the line of[258] descent or succession, I have not thought these two lists worthy of attention, except only with regard to the reign following that of the 58th king, if we count the reign of the usurper Sʿaíd ʿAlí, the son of Háj ʿOmár. For here the chronicle No. 1. has omitted, by mistake or negligence, the well-established reign of Edrís ben ʿAlí, who, succeeding to his father ʿAlí, preceded his younger brother Dúnama ben ʿAlí, and reigned 20 years.[54]

What I have here said with regard to the authenticity of the chronicle refers only to the line of descent and succession of the kings mentioned; but, of course, it is quite another question, if we take into view the length of time attributed to the reign of each succeeding king. But even here the dates of the chronicle are confirmed in a most surprising and satisfactory manner by the history of Imám Áhmed, who, in relating the successful expedition of Edrís Áʿaishámi to Kánem, states that from the time when Dáúd Nikálemi was obliged to leave his capital Njímiye, down to the period when Edrís made his entrance into it, 122 years had elapsed. Now, according to the dates of the chronicle, between the end of the reign of Dáúd and the beginning of the reign of Edrís, who is expressly stated by the historian to have undertaken that expedition in the first year of his reign, there intervened[259] exactly 121 years. And indeed we see from the Imám’s account, that most people thought this was the real length of the period, and not 122 years; so well were the educated inhabitants of Bórnu at that time acquainted with the history of their country. Perhaps also Imám Áhmed wishes here to refute Masfárma, the historian of Edrís Áʿaishámi, who adhered to the general opinion.

Unfortunately, the length of the several reigns is our only guide with regard to the chronology of this history, as neither the chronicle nor even Imám Áhmed specifies particular years with reference to any of the events which they mention. This is indeed a very great defect, not so apparent in the dry chronicle as in the account of the learned priest; and it seems almost inconceivable, as he is very particular, not only with regard to seasons, but even to months and days, mentioning with great exactness on what day of the month his master did so and so, and even disputing, in this respect, slight variations of opinion. If he had only given us the date of a single year, we should be much better off as to the chronology of the history of Bórnu. As it is, if we put out of account other chronological data which we are fortunately in possession of, in order to reduce to chronology the events mentioned by the chronicle, we can only reckon backwards the number of years attributed by it to the reign of each successive king, commencing from the death of Sultan Dúnama, who in the year A.H. 1233[260] was killed in the battle at Ngála (written “Ghála” in Arabic, but called “Angala” by the members of the former expedition).[55]

If we now count together the years attributed to each reign, proceeding in a backward order, and beginning with the end of the year H. 1233, we obtain, in an inverse order, the following chronological[261] dates for the more important periods of the history of Bórnu.

	A.H.	A.D.
Beginning of the reign of Ayúma	391	1000, 1
Beginning of the reign of Humé, the first Moslim king	479	1086
Reign of Dúnama Díbalámi, the warlike and daring king who spoiled the talisman of Bórnu	618-658	1221-1259, 60
Beginning of the reign of Ibrahím Nikálemi	707	1307
Beginning of the reign of Edrís ben Ibrahím	754	1353
End of the reign of Dáúd, who succumbed to the Bulála	789	1387
End of the reign of ʿOthmán ben Edrís	795	1392, 3
The reign of ʿOmár, who abandoned his residence in Kánem altogether, ceding it to the Bulála	796-799	1393-1396
Beginning of the reign of ʿAlí Dúnamámi	877	1472
Beginning of the reign of Edrís Katarkamábi	911	1505
Beginning of the reign of Edrís Alawóma	980	1572
Beginning of the reign of Háj ʿOmár	1036	1626, 7
Beginning of the reign of ʿAlí ben Háj ʿOmár	1055	1645

Having obtained these dates, we have first to observe that to fill up the period from Ayúma to Dhu Yazan, the presumed ancestor of the Séfuwa, and even known as such to Abú ’l Fedá as well as to Makrízi, and whose age (as being that of a man who predicted the coming of the prophet) is fixed beyond all doubt, only six generations are left. This is the circumstance which I mentioned above as speaking[262] greatly in favour of the authenticity of this chronicle and its genealogies, even with regard to the more remote times. For if it had not been necessary to preserve scrupulously a well-established line of succession, how easy would it have been to introduce a few more individuals in order to fill up this blank, as has been done in the other list (b), instead of admitting the palpable nonsense of attributing to the two oldest kings a reign of from 250 to 300 years. Even Séf and Ibrahím, the first two princes of the line, are, I think, quite historical persons, whose existence was so well established that a conscientious chronicler could not change anything in the number of years attributed to the length of their reigns.

Following, therefore, the hints given to us by the chronicle itself, we fix the foundation of the dynasty of the Séfuwa in Kánem about the middle of the third century after Mohammed, or a little before the year 900 of our era. We shall afterwards return to this circumstance.

Now we shall first see how triumphantly the authenticity of the chronicle is confirmed in every respect by the occasional remarks made by Makrízi and Ebn Batúta with regard to the history of Bórnu.

Unfortunately, the oldest date which Makrízi (on the authority, as it would seem, of Ébn Sʿaíd) mentions with regard to Kánem[56], namely, an expedition made by its king into the fertile districts of Mábiná[263] in the year H. 650, cannot be used as a sufficient test of the authenticity of the chronicle, as the historian does not mention the name of the king; but the deed itself harmonizes exceedingly well with the warlike and enterprising character of Dúnama Díbalámi, whose reign, according to our chronicle, falls between the years 618 and 658. Just the same is to be said of the fact mentioned by Ébn Khaldún, who, in his valuable history of the Berbers, which has been recently made accessible to all, relates[57] the interesting fact that, among other valuable presents, a giraffe was sent by the king of Kánem (to whom even at that early date he gives the title of “master of Bórnu”) to Abú ʿAbd-Allah el Mostánser the king of Tunis, in the year of the Hejra 655. The same historian, in another passage of his work, referring to the year 656, mentions again the king of Kánem as having caused the death of a son of Kárakosh el Ghozzi el Modáfferi, the well-known adventurous chieftain who had tried to establish himself in Wadán.[58]

But fortunately we have other data which afford us a very fair test. According to Makrízi[59], not long[264] after the close of the seventh century of the Hejra (fi hedúd sennet sebʿa mayet), the king of Kánem was Háj Ibrahím; after him reigned his son, el Háj Edrís—the historian does not say expressly that he immediately succeeded his father; then Dáúd, the brother of Edrís, and another son of Ibrahím; then ʿOmár, the son of Dáúd’s elder brother Háj Edrís; and then ʿOthmán, the brother of the former, and another son of Edrís. Makrízi adds that this last-named king reigned shortly before A.H. 800; and then he states that the inhabitants of Kánem revolted against the successors of Ibrahím, and made themselves independent, but that Bórnu remained their kingdom.

All these dates given by Makrízi, as may be seen from the few most important events which I have extracted from the chronicle, are in most surprising harmony with the information conveyed in a dry and sterile but uncorrupted way by the latter. Notwithstanding the slight discrepancy in the order of succession of the later kings, whose reign was of very short duration, and whose relationship is rather perplexing, is it possible to find a harmony more complete than this, if we take into consideration the only way in which Makrízi could have obtained his information, that is to say, from merchants or pilgrims visiting Egypt on their way to Mekka?[60]

[265]We now come to Ébn Batúta; and we again find the same surprising harmony between the fact regarding Bórnu, as mentioned by him, and the dates of the chronicle. The famous and enterprising traveller of Tangiers, on his return-journey from his visit to Western Sudán, left the capital of Mélle or Máli (that is, Mungo Park’s Jára) the 22nd of Moharrem, 754, and, proceeding by way of Timbúktu or Túmbutu, and thence down the Ísa or Niger to Gágho or Gógo,[266] and thence to Tekádda[61], in speaking about the copper found in the mines near this town, relates that the bars made of it were exported to Góber and Rágha (or rather Ragháy), and also to Bórnu, and then adds the interesting fact that the name of the ruling king of the latter country was Edrís.

Now, if we follow implicitly the dates of the chronicle, Edrís ben Ibrahím (Nikále) ascended the throne in that very year (753) when, according to this precious and unimpeachable testimony of the illustrious and intelligent traveller, he actually occupied the throne.

The very remarkable and really surprising harmony here shown to exist between the chronicle and the dates which have come to our knowledge from other sources, will, I hope, give to any unprejudiced mind some degree of confidence in the authenticity of that document, and will make him aware of its superiority over the information of a man like Leo Africanus, or rather Hasen Ebn Mohammed el Wasás, who, though he undoubtedly has, and will always have, the merit of having given to Europe a clear general view of the political and linguistic groups of Central Africa, yet, on account of the manner in which his report was drawn up (merely from memory, after the lapse[267] of many years), cannot be a decisive authority on any special circumstance. Hence, when he states that the name of the king of Bórnu, at the time when he visited the country, was Abraham (Ibrahím), we may confidently assume that he is wrong, and that he speaks of the illustrious conqueror ʿAlí ben Dúnama, who restored peace and glory to that distracted country, and, on account of his warlike character and his various expeditions, obtained the surname el Gházi. I shall return to this subject in the chronological table, in speaking of the reign of ʿAlí ben Dúnama.

As for the document mentioned above as No. 5., it contains a few valuable dates with regard to those Bórnu kings who reigned near the time when the author obtained his information in Tripoli, while for the older times, about which the people could only inform him “par tradition de leurs pères” his information is of little value. The most important dates which it contains are those which have reference to the time of the accession to the throne of the three Bórnu kings, ʿAbd-Allah ben Dúnama, Háj ʿOmár, and Háj ʿAlí; and these vary but little from the dates computed from the chronicle, and serve therefore to confirm its accuracy.

However, it is not my design to vindicate this chronicle from all possibility of error; but my object is to show that its general character, dry and meagre as it is, has the strongest claim to authenticity. Indeed I am sure that it can be fully relied upon, all uncertainty being reduced to a space of one or two[268] years; I may therefore be allowed to assert that the chronological table, which I shall give in the Appendix, is something more than a mere fairy tale. But in this place, I think it well to offer a few general remarks on the characteristic features of the history of Bórnu.

I have first to speak of the origin of the Séfuwa or Dúguwa. We have already seen that the chronology of the Bórnu people, if palpable absurdities be left out of consideration, does not carry their history further down than the latter half of the ninth century of our era. Accordingly there can be no further question as to whether Séf was really the son of the celebrated Dhu Yazan, and identical with Séf Dhu Yazan, the last native ruler of the Himyaritic kingdom, who celebrated his accession to the throne in the famous castle of Gumdán, and with the assistance of Khosru Parvis liberated Yeman from the dominion of the Abyssinians. I frankly confess that, while Ibrahím the son of Séf, as “father of the king” (as he appears to have been entitled occasionally), seems to me to have a really historical character, I entertain sincere doubts whether Séf be not a mere imaginary personage, introduced into the pedigree expressly in order to connect it with Yeman. Indeed, in one short list of Bórnu kings which I possess, several princes are mentioned before Séf, whose names, such as Futírmi, Hálar Sukayámi, Halármi, Bunúmi, Rizálmi, Mairími, have quite a Kanúri character. As the reader will see, I do not at all doubt of some connection[269] existing between the ruling family of Bórnu and the Himyaritic or Kushitic stock; but I doubt its immediate descent from the royal Himyaritic family.

But be this as it may, I think that Leo Africanus, who is a very good authority for general relations, is right in stating that the kings of Bórnu originated from the Libyan tribe of the Bardoa, a tribe also mentioned by Makrízi as Berdʿoa. That there is an ethnological connection between the names Bérnu or Bórnu, Bórgu, Berdʿoa, Berdáma, Berauni, Berber, can scarcely be doubted; but to many the Berdʿoa might seem to have nearer relation with the Tedá or Tébu than with the real Berber or Mazígh. Sultan Béllo certainly, in the introduction to his history of the conquests of the Fúlbe, expressly says that the Bórnu dynasty was of Berber origin; and it is on this account that the Háusa people call every Bórnu man “ba-Bérberche,”[62] and the Bórnu nation “Bérbere.” This view of the subject is confirmed by the distinct statement of Makrízi[63], who says that that was the common tradition of the people at his time—“it is said that they are descended from the Berbers,”—and moreover in another passage[64] informs us that the king of Kánem was a nomade, or wanderer; although it seems that this statement refers properly to the Bulála dynasty.

Before the time of Sélma, or Sélmama, the son of[270] Bíkoru, whose reign began about A.H. 581, the kings are stated by the chronicle to have been of a red complexion[65], like the Arabs; and to such an origin from the red race, the Syrian-Berber stock, is certainly to be referred their custom of covering the face and never showing the mouth, to which custom Ébn Batúta adverts in speaking of King Edrís, who ruled in his time. To this origin is also to be referred the custom, till recently practised, of putting the new king upon a shield, and raising him up over the heads of the people[66], as well as the polity of the empire, which originally was entirely aristocratical, based upon a council of twelve chiefs, without whose assent nothing of importance could be undertaken by the king.

We have a very curious statement concerning the Bórnu empire, emanating from Lucas, the traveller employed by the African Association[67], and based on the authority of his Arab informants, principally Ben ʿAlí, who no doubt was a very clever and intelligent man. He describes the Bórnu kingdom as an elective monarchy, the privilege of choosing a successor among the sons of a deceased king, without regard to priority of birth, being conferred by the nation on three of the most distinguished men of the country.[271] He does not say whether these belonged to the courtiers, or whether every private individual might be called upon promiscuously to fulfil this important duty; but the strict etiquette of the court of Bórnu makes it probable that the former was the case.

Be this as it may, the choice being made, the three electors proceeded to the apartment of the sovereign elect, and conducted him in silence to the gloomy place in which the unburied corpse of his deceased father was deposited; for till this whole ceremony was gone through the deceased could not be interred. There, over the corpse of his deceased father, the newly elected king seems to have entered into some sort of compromise sanctioned by oath, binding himself that he would respect the ancient institutions, and employ himself for the glory of the country.

I shall have to mention a similar custom still prevailing at the present day in the province of Múniyó, which belonged to that part of the empire called Yerí, while the dynasty of the Múniyóma probably descended from the Berber race. Every newly elected Múniyóma, still at the present day, is in duty bound to remain for seven days in a cave hollowed out by nature, or by the hand of man, in the rock behind the place of sepulchre of the former Múniyóma, in the ancient town of Gámmasak, although it is quite deserted at present, and does not contain a living soul.

But that not only the royal family, but even a great part of the whole nation, or rather one of the nations which were incorporated into the Bórnu empire, was[272] of Berber origin, is still clear so late as the time of Edrís Alawóma, that is to say, only two centuries and a half ago; for in the report of his expeditions, constant mention is made of the Berber tribes (“kabáíl el Beráber”) as a large component part of his army, and constantly two parts of this army are distinguished as the Reds, “el Áhhmar,” and the Blacks, “e’ Súd.”[68]

This part of the population of Bórnu has separated from the rest, I suspect, in consequence of the policy of ʿAlí, the son and successor of Háj ʿOmár, a very warlike prince, who, in the second half of the 17th century, waged a long war with Ágades.

Viewed in the light thus shed by past history, the continual and uninterrupted warlike expeditions made by the Tawárek at the present time against the northern regions of Bórnu and against Kánem assume quite a new and far more interesting character.

Now if it be objected that the Kanúri or Bórnu language does not appear to contain any Berber elements[69] (which indeed it does not), I have only to[273] adduce the exactly parallel example of the Bulála, a brother dynasty of the Bórnu royal family, descended from the same stock, who, having settled and founded a dynasty among the tribe of the Kúka, in the territory of Fíttri, still continued to speak their native language, that is the Kanúri, in the time of Leo[70], but have now entirely forgotten it, adopting the language of the people over whom they ruled; and similar examples are numerous.

A second point which deserves notice is, that the Kanúri even at the present day call people in general, but principally their kings, always after the name of their mother, and that the name of the mother’s tribe is almost continually added in the chronicle as a circumstance of the greatest importance. Thus the famous king Dúnama ben Selmʿaa is known in Bórnu generally only under the name of Díbalámi, from the name of his mother Díbala; and the full form of his royal title is Díbalámi Dúnama Selmámi, his mother’s name, as the most noble and important, preceding his individual name, which is followed by the name derived from his father. It is also evident, even from the dry and jejune report of the chronicle, what powerful influence the Walíde or “Mágira”—this is her native title—exercised in the affairs of the kingdom;[274] I need only mention the examples of Gúmsu (“gúmsu” means the chief wife) Fasámi, who imprisoned her son Bíri, when already king, for a whole year, and of Áʿaishad or ʿAisa, the mother of Edrís, who for a number of years exercised such paramount authority, that in some lists, and even by many ʿulama at the present time, her name is inserted in the list of the sovereigns of the country.

These circumstances may be best explained by supposing that a kind of compromise took place between the strangers—Berbers, or rather Imóshagh (Mazígh) from the tribe of the Berdʿoa—and the tribe or tribes among whom they settled, just in the same manner as we have seen that a stipulation of the same kind was probably made between the conquering Kél-owí and the ancient inhabitants of Aïr of the Góber race; and the same circumstances, with similar results, are observable in ancient times, in the relations subsisting between the Grecian colonists and the original inhabitants of Lycia.

The most important among the indigenous tribes of Kánem are the Kíye or Beni Kíya, also mentioned in the time of Edrís Alawóma[71], the Meghármah,[275] who may possibly be identical with the Ghemármah, the Temághera[72] (evidently a Berber name), the Débiri, the Kúnkuna, at present established in Kárgá, and finally the Tébu or Tubu, or rather Tedá. Of all these the last-named constituted by far the most important and most numerous tribe. To them belonged the mother of Dúnama ben Humé, the most powerful of the older kings of Bórnu, who appears to have thrice performed the pilgrimage to Mekka. Indeed it would seem that the real talisman which Díbalámi Dúnama Selmámi spoiled consisted in the friendly relation between the Berauni or Kanúri and the Tébu, which was so intimate that the name of Berauni, which originally belonged to the inhabitants of Bórnu, is still at present the common name given by the Tawárek to the Tébu; or rather, the latter are a race intimately related to the original stock of the Kanúri, as must become evident to every unprejudiced mind that investigates their language.[73]

[276]How powerful a tribe the Tedá were, is sufficiently shown by the length of the war which they carried on with that very king Dúnama Selmámi, and which is said to have lasted more than seven years. Indeed, it would seem as if it had been only by the assistance of this powerful tribe that the successors of Jíl Shikomémi were able to found the powerful dynasty of the Bulála, and to lay the foundation of the great empire called by Leo Gaoga, comprehending all the eastern and north-eastern parts of the old empire of Kánem, and extending at times as far as Dóngola, so that in the beginning of the 16th century it was larger than Bórnu.[74] Even in the latter half of the 16th century, the Tedá appear to have constituted a large proportion of the military force of the Bulála in Kánem; and great numbers of them are said, by the historian of the powerful king Edrís Alawóma, to have emigrated from Kánem into Bórnu, in consequence of the victories obtained by that prince over the Bulála. At that time they seem to have settled principally in the territories of the Koyám, a tribe very often mentioned in the book[277] of Imám Ahmed as forming part of the Bórnu army, and with whom at present they are completely intermixed.[75] It is very remarkable, that neither by the chronicle, nor by the historian of Edrís Alawóma, the large tribe of the Mánga, which evidently formed a very considerable element in the formation of the Bórnu nation, is ever once mentioned.

While the tribes above enumerated were more or less absorbed by the empire of Kánem, and, in the course of time, adopted the Mohammedan religion professed by its rulers, there was, on the other hand, a very numerous indigenous tribe which did not become amalgamated with the conquering element, but, on the contrary, continued to repel it in a hostile manner, and for a long time threatened its very existence. These were the “Soy” or “Só,” a tribe settled originally in the vast territory inclosed towards the north and north-west by the komádugu[278] Wáube, erroneously called the Yeou, and towards the east by the Shári, and divided, as it would seem, into several small kingdoms.

This powerful tribe was not completely subjugated before the time of Edrís Alawóma, or the latter part of the 16th century; and it might be matter of surprise that they are not mentioned at all by the chronicle before the middle of the 14th century, if it were not that even circumstances and facts of the very greatest importance are passed over in silence by this arid piece of nomenclature. It would therefore be very inconsistent to conclude from this silence, that before the period mentioned the princes of Kánem had never come into contact with the tribe of the Soy; the reason why the chronicle, sparing as it is of information, could not any longer pass them over in silence, was that in the space of three years they had vanquished and killed four successive kings. The places mentioned in the list, where the first three of these princes were slain, cannot be identified with absolute certainty; but as for Nánighám, where Mohammed ben ʿAbd Allah was killed, it certainly lay close to, and probably in, the territory of the Soy. After this period we learn nothing with regard to this tribe until the time of Edrís Alawóma, although it seems probable that Edrís Nikálemi, the successor of Mohammed ben ʿAbd Allah, and the contemporary of Ebn Batúta, had first to gain a victory over the Soy, before he was able to sit down quietly upon his throne.

[279]Altogether, in the history of Bórnu we can distinguish the following epochs. First, the rise of power in Kánem, Njímiye being the capital of the empire, silent and imperceptible till we see on a sudden, in the beginning of the 12th century, the powerful prince Dúnama ben Humé start forth under the impulse of Islám, wielding the strength of a young and vigorous empire, and extending his influence as far as Egypt. The acme, or highest degree of prosperity, of this period coincides with the reign of Díbalámi Dúnama Selmámi, in the middle of the 13th century, during the prime of the dynasty of the Beni Háfis in Tunis. But this reign already engendered the germs of decay; for during it the two cognate elements of which the empire consisted, namely the Tedá and the Kanúri, were disunited, and it yielded too much influence to the aristocratical element, which was represented by the twelve great offices, an institution which seems to deserve particular attention.[76]

The consequence was, that a series of civil wars and regicides ensued, interrupted only by the more tranquil reign of Ibrahím Nikálemi in the first half of the 14th century, which was followed, however, by the most unfortunate period of the empire, when the great native tribe of the Soy burst forth and killed four kings in succession. Then followed another respite from turmoil, just at the time when Ebn[280] Batúta visited Negroland; but the son of the very king who in the time of that distinguished traveller ruled over Bórnu fell the first victim in the struggle that ensued with a power which had arisen from the same root, had gained strength during the civil wars of Bórnu, and which now threatened to swallow it up altogether. This was the dynasty of the Bulála, which, originating with the fugitive Bórnu prince Jíl Shikomémi, had established itself in the district of Fíttri over the tribe of the Kúka, and from thence spread its dominion in every direction till, after a sanguinary struggle, it conquered Kánem, and forced the Kanúri dynasty to seek refuge in the western provinces of its empire, about the year 1400 of our era.

The Bórnu empire (if we may give the name of empire to the shattered host of a belligerent tribe driven from their home and reduced to a few military encampments) for the next seventy years seemed likely to go to pieces altogether, till the great king ʿAli Dúnamámi opened another glorious period; for having at length mastered the aristocratical element, which had almost overwhelmed the monarchy, he founded as a central point of government a new capital or “bírni,” Ghasréggomo, the empire having been without a fixed centre since the abandonment of Njímiye. It was in his time that Leo Africanus visited Negroland, where he found the Bulála empire (Gaoga) still in the ascendant: but this was changed in the beginning of the 16th century, even before[281] the publication of his account; for in the hundred and twenty-second (lunar) year from the time when ʿOmár was compelled to abandon his royal seat in Njímiye, ceding the rich country of Kánem, the very nucleus of the empire, to his rivals, the energetic king Edrís Katakarmábi entered that capital again with his victorious army, and from that time down to the beginning of the present century Kánem has remained a province of Bórnu, although it was not again made the seat of government.

Altogether the 16th century is one of the most glorious periods of the Bórnu empire, adorned as it is by such able princes as the two Edrís’ and Mohammed, while in Western Negroland the great Sónghay empire went to pieces, and was finally subjugated by Mulay Hámed el Mansúr, the emperor of Morocco. Then followed a quieter period, and old age seemed gradually to gain on the kingdom, while pious and peaceful kings occupied the throne, till in the middle of the last century the energetic and enterprising king ʿAli ʿOmármi began a violent struggle against that very nation from which the Bórnu dynasty had sprung, but which had now become its most fearful enemy—the Imóshagh or Tawárek. He made great exertions in every direction; but his efforts seem to have resembled the convulsions of death, and being succeeded by an indolent king, for such was Ahmed, the fatal hour which was to accomplish the extinction of the dynasty of the Séfuwa rapidly approached. At last, when the very centre of the empire had already fallen[282] a prey to a new nation which had started forth on a career of glory, the Fúlbe or Felláta, there arose a stranger, a nationalized Arab, who, in saving the last remains of the kingdom, founded a new dynasty, that of the Kánemíyín, which, after having shone forth very brightly under its founder, was recently reduced by civil discord, and seems now destined to a premature old age.

Having here offered this general view of the empire of Bórnu, I refer for particulars to the appended chronological tables, which I trust, although very imperfect, particularly in the beginning, will yet form a sufficient groundwork wherewith to begin more profitable inquiries into the history of those regions than have been hitherto made.

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[283]CHAP. XXX.

THE CAPITAL OF BÓRNU.

Having endeavoured to impart to the reader a greater interest in the country, by relating its former history, as far as I was able to make it out, I shall now give an account of my stay in Kúkawa before setting out on my journey to Adamáwa.

Regarding Kúkawa only as the basis of my further proceedings, and as a necessary station already sufficiently known to the European public by the long stay of the former expedition, I endeavoured to collect as much information as possible with regard to the surrounding countries. Two of my friends were distinguished by a good deal of Mohammedan learning, by the precision with which they recollected the countries they had wandered through, and by dignified manners; but they differed much in character, and were inclined to quarrel with each other as often as they happened to meet in my house.

These two men, to whom I am indebted for a great deal of interesting and precise information, were the Arab Ahmed bel Mejúb, of that division of the tribe of the Welád bu-Sebʿa who generally live in the Wadi Sákiyet el Hamra, to the south of Morocco, and the Púllo Ibrahím, son of the Sheikh el Mukhtár, in Kaháide on the Senegal, and cousin of the late[284] Mohammed el Amín, the energetic prince of Fúta-Tóro. Ahmed had travelled over almost the whole of Western Africa, from Arguín on the ocean as far as Bagírmi, and had spent several years in Adamáwa, of which country he first gave me an exact description, especially with regard to the direction of the rivers. He was a shrewd and very intelligent man; yet he was one of those Arabs who go round all the courts of the princes of Negroland, to whatever creed or tribe they may belong, and endeavour to obtain from them all they can by begging and by the parade of learning. I esteemed him on account of his erudition, but not in other respects.

Quite a different person was the Púllo Ibrahím—a very proud young man, fully aware of the ascendancy, and strongly marked with the distinguishing character, of the nation to which he belonged. He had performed the pilgrimage to Mekka, crossing the whole breadth of Africa from west to east, from warm religious feeling mixed up with a little ambition, as he knew that such an exploit would raise him highly in the esteem of his countrymen, and secure to him a high position in life. He had been two years a hostage in Ndér (St. Louis), and knew something about the Europeans. It had struck him that the French were not so eager in distributing bibles as the English, while he had truly remarked that the former were very sensible of the charms of the softer sex, and very frequently married the pretty daughters of the Dembaséga. He obtained from me, first the Zabúr,[285] or the Psalms of David, which even the Arabs esteem very highly, and would esteem much more if they were translated into a better sort of Arabic, and afterwards the whole Bible, which he wished to take with him on his long land-journey.

The Arabs and the Fúlbe, as is well known, are in almost continual warfare all along the line from the Senegal as far as Timbúktu; and it was most interesting for me to see him and Ahmed in violent altercation about the advantages of their respective nations, while I was thereby afforded an excellent means of appreciating their reports with regard to the state of the tribes and countries along the Senegal. The way in which they began to communicate to me their information was in itself expressive of their respective characters, Ahmed protesting that, before he dared to communicate with me, he was compelled to ask the permission of the vizier, while Ibrahím laughed at him, declaring that he felt himself fully authorized to give me any information about Negroland. Ibrahím became an intimate friend of mine, and took a lively interest in me, particularly commiserating my lonely situation in a foreign country, far from home, without the consolations of female companionship.

As an example of the risks which European travellers may incur by giving medicines to natives to administer to themselves at home, I will relate the following incident. Ibrahím told me one day that he wanted some cooling medicine; and I gave him two strong doses of Epsom salts, to use occasionally.[286] He then complained the following day that he was suffering from worms; and when I told him that the Epsom salts would not have the effect of curing this complaint, but that worm-powder would, he begged me to give him some of the latter; and I gave him three doses to use on three successive days. However, my poor friend, though an intelligent man, thought that it might not be amiss to take all this medicine at once, viz. four ounces of Epsom salts and six drachms of worm-powder; and the reader may imagine the effect which this dose produced upon a rather slender man. Unfortunately, I had just taken a ride out of the town; and he remained for full two days in a most desperate state, while his friends, who had sent in vain to my house to obtain my assistance, were lamenting to all the people that the Christian had killed their companion, the pious pilgrim.

Besides these two men, there were many interesting strangers at that time in Kúkawa, from whom I learnt more or less. Some of them I shall here mention, as their character and story will afford the reader a glance at one side of life in Negroland. A man who had performed travels of an immense extent, from Khórasán in the east as far as Sansándi in the west, and from Tripoli and Morocco in the north as far as Asiantí and Jenakhéra and Fertít towards the south, would have been of great service, if he had preserved an exact recollection of all the routes which he had followed in his devious wanderings; but as it was, I could only gather from[287] him some general information, the most interesting part of which had reference to Mósi or rather Móre, a large and populous country known by name already, from Sultan Béllo’s curious communications to Captain Clapperton, but always misplaced in the maps, and its capital Wóghodoghó.

This enterprising man, who generally travelled as a dervish, had gone from Sofára on the Máyo balléo or Niger, between Hamdalláhi and Ségo, across a most unsettled country, to Wóghodoghó; but he was unable to give me any precise details with regard to it, and I never met another person who had travelled this dangerous route. He had also travelled all along the pagan states to the south of Bagírmi and Wadáy, and advised me strongly, if it were my plan to penetrate to the upper Nile (as, indeed, I then intended, notwithstanding my total want of means), to adopt the character of a dervish, which he deemed essential for my success. But while such a character might, indeed, insure general success, it would preclude the possibility of making any accurate observations, and would render necessary the most painful, if not insupportable, privations. And on the whole this poor fellow was less fortunate than I; for in the year 1854 he was slain on that very route from Yóla to Kúkawa which I myself had twice passed successfully. He was a native of Baghdád, and called himself Sheríf Ahmed el Baghdádi.

There was another singular personage, a native of Sennár, who had been a clerk in the Turkish army,[288] but, as malicious tongues gave out, had been too fond of the cash intrusted to his care, and absconded. He afterwards resided some years in Wadáy, where he had drilled a handful of the sultan’s slaves, had come to this kingdom to try his fortune, and was now about to be sent to Wadáy by the sheikh of Bórnu, as a spy, to see if the prince of that country had still any design of recommencing hostilities. From all persons of this description a traveller may learn a great deal; and, intriguing fellows as they generally are, and going from court to court spreading reports everywhere, prudence requires that he should keep on tolerably good terms with them.

Most interesting and instructive was a host of pilgrims from different parts of Másena or Mélle, partly Fúlbe, partly Sónghay, who having heard of the white man, and of his anxiety to collect information respecting all parts of the continent, came repeatedly to me to contribute each his share. I used to regale them with coffee, while they gave me ample opportunities of comparing and testing their statements. The most interesting and best informed amongst them were Bu-Bakr, a native of Hamdalláhi, the capital of the sheikh (sekho) Ahmedu ben Ahmedu, who having made a pilgrimage to Mekka, had long resided in Yeman, and was now returning homeward with a good deal of knowledge; and another cheerful and simple-hearted old man from Sá on the Isa or Niger, between Hamdalláhi and Timbúktu. Indeed, as the report of Ahmed bel Mejúb about Adamáwa had confirmed[289] me in my determination to sacrifice everything in order to visit that country as soon as possible, so the manifold information of these people with respect to the countries on the middle course of the so-called Niger excited in me a most ardent desire to execute the design, previously but vaguely entertained, of accomplishing also a journey westward to Timbúktu.

Among my Bórnu friends at this time, the most instructive were Shitíma Makarémma and Ámsakay. The former, who had been a courtier under the old dynasty, and who had saved his life by his intrigues, was a very intelligent old man, but an acknowledged rascal, to whom unnatural vices, which seem in general entirely unknown in these regions, were imputed. Nevertheless he was the only man who was master of all the history of the old dynasty; and he spoke the Kanúri language with such exquisite beauty as I have never heard from anybody else. He had two very handsome daughters, whom he succeeded in marrying, one to the vizier and one to his adversary, ʿAbd e’ Rahmán; but in December 1853 he was executed, together with the vizier, but on totally different grounds, as having long forfeited his life. Quite a different sort of man was Ámsakay, a simple Kánemma chief, who has been represented in one of my sketches. He had formerly distinguished himself by his expeditions against the Búdduma, till those enterprising islanders succeeded in conciliating him by the gift of one[290] of their handsome daughters for a wife, when he became half settled amongst them.

I had also some interesting pagan instructors, among whom I will only mention Agíd Búrku, a very handsome youth, but who had undergone the horrible process of castration. The abolition of this practice in the Mohammedan world ought to be the first object of Christian governments and missionaries, not merely on account of the unnatural and desecrated state to which it reduces a human being, but on account of the dreadful character of the operation itself, which, in these countries at least, is the reason why scarcely one in ten survives it. With extreme delight Agíd Búrku dwelt upon the unconstrained nudity in which his countrymen indulged, and with great naïveté described a custom of the pagans, which is identical with a custom of the civilized Europeans, but is an abomination in the eyes of every Mohammedan. He had wandered about a good deal in the southern provinces of Bagírmi and Wadáy, and gave me the first information about the interesting mountain-group near Kénga Matáya.

But I must principally dwell upon my relations to the vizier el Háj Beshír ben Ahmed Tiráb, upon whose benevolent disposition the whole success of the mission depended, as he ruled entirely the mind of the sheikh, who was more sparing of words, and less intelligent.

Mohammed el Beshír, being the son of the most[291] influential man in Bórnu after the sheikh, enjoyed all the advantages which such a position could offer for the cultivation of his mind, which was by nature of a superior cast. He had gone on a pilgrimage to Mekka in the year 1843, by way of Ben-Gházi, when he had an opportunity both of showing the Arabs near the coast that the inhabitants of the interior of the continent are superior to the beasts, and of getting a glimpse of a higher state of civilization than he had been able to observe in his own country.

Having thus learned to survey the world collectively from a new point of view, and with an increased eagerness after everything foreign and marvellous, he returned to his native country, where he soon had an opportunity of proving his talent, his father being slain in the unfortunate battle at Kúsuri, and Sheikh ʿOmár, a fugitive in his native country, having much need of a faithful counsellor in his embarrassed situation. The sheikh was beset by a powerful and victorious host, encamping in the largest of the towns of his kingdom, while the party of the old dynasty was rising again, and not only withdrawing from him the best forces wherewith to face the enemy, but threatening his very existence, at the same time that a brother was standing in fierce rivalry to him at the head of a numerous army. Sheikh ʿOmár was successful, the host of Wadáy was obliged to withdraw, and, abandoning the purpose for which they had come, namely, that of re-establishing the old dynasty, commenced a difficult retreat of many hundred miles at the beginning of the[292] rainy season; the partisans of the old dynasty were entirely crushed, the last prince of that family slain, the residence of the sultans levelled to the ground, and even the remembrance of the old times was almost effaced. There remained to be feared only his brother ʿAbd e’ Rahmán. ʿAbd e’ Rahmán was a good soldier, but a man of a very loose and violent character. When a youth he had committed all sorts of violence and injustice, carrying off young brides by force, to indulge his passions: he was besides a man of little intelligence. Being but a few months younger than ʿOmár, he thought himself equally entitled to the succession; and if once admitted into a high position in the empire, he might be expected to abuse his influence on the very first opportunity.

Sheikh ʿOmár, therefore, could not but choose to confide rather in the intelligent son of his old minister, the faithful companion in the field and counsellor of his father, than in his own fierce and jealous brother; and all depended upon the behaviour of Háj Beshír, and upon the discretion with which he should occupy and maintain his place as first, or rather only minister of the kingdom. Assuredly his policy should have been to conciliate, as much as possible, all the greater “kokanáwa” or courtiers, in order to undermine the influence of ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, whom it might be wise to keep at a respectful distance. But in this respect the vizier seems to have made great mistakes, his covetousness blinding him to his principal advantages; for covetous he certainly[293] was—first, from the love of possessing, and also in order to indulge his luxurious disposition, for he was certainly rather “kamúma,” that is to say, extremely fond of the fair sex, and had a harím of from three to four hundred female slaves.

In assembling this immense number of female companions for the entertainment of his leisure hours, he adopted a scientific principle; in fact, a credulous person might suppose that he regarded his harím only from a scientific point of view;—as a sort of ethnological museum—doubtless of a peculiarly interesting kind—which he had brought together in order to impress upon his memory the distinguishing features of each tribe. I have often observed that, in speaking with him of the different tribes of Negroland, he was at times struck with the novelty of a name, lamenting that he had not yet had a specimen of that tribe in his harím, and giving orders at once to his servants to endeavour to procure a perfect sample of the missing kind. I remember, also, that on showing to him one day an illustrated ethnological work in which he took a lively interest, and coming to a beautiful picture of a Circassian female, he told me, with an expression of undisguised satisfaction, that he had a living specimen of that kind; and when, forgetting the laws of Mohammedan etiquette, I was so indiscreet as to ask him whether she was as handsome as the picture, he answered only with a smile, at once punishing and pardoning my indiscreet question. I must also say that, notwithstanding the great[294] number and variety of the women who shared his attention, he seemed to take a hearty interest in each of them; at least I remember that he grieved most sincerely for the loss of one who died in the winter of 1851. Poor Háj Beshír! He was put to death in the last month of 1853, leaving seventy-three sons alive, not counting the daughters, and the numbers of children which may be supposed to die in such an establishment without reaching maturity.

But to return to his political character. I said that he neglected to attach to himself the more powerful of the courtiers, with whose assistance he might have hoped to keep the rival brother of Sheikh ʿOmár at some distance; indeed, he even alienated them by occasional, and sometimes injudicious use of his almost unlimited power, obliging them, for instance, to resign to him a handsome female slave or a fine horse. If he had possessed great personal courage and active powers, he might have mastered circumstances and kept his post, notwithstanding the ill-will of all around him; but he wanted those qualities, as the result shows: and yet, well aware of the danger which threatened him, he was always on his guard, having sundry loaded pistols and carbines always around him, upon and under his carpet. Shortly before I arrived, an arrow had been shot at him in the evening, while he was sitting in his courtyard.

I have peculiar reason to thank Providence for having averted the storm which was gathering over his head[295] during my stay in Bórnu, for my intimacy with him might very easily have involved me also in the calamities which befell him. However, I repeat that altogether he was a most excellent, kind, liberal, and just man, and might have done much good to the country, if he had been less selfish and more active. He was incapable, indeed, of executing by himself any act of severity, such as in the unsettled state of a semi-barbarous kingdom may at times be necessary; and, being conscious of his own mildness, he left all those matters to a man named Lamíno, to whom I gave the title of “the shameless left hand of the vizier,” and whom I shall have frequent occasion to mention.

I pressed upon the vizier the necessity of defending the northern frontier of Bórnu against the Tawárek by more effectual measures than had been then adopted, and thus retrieving, for cultivation and the peaceable abode of his fellow-subjects, the fine borders of the komádugu, and restoring security to the road to Fezzán. Just about this time the Tawárek had made another expedition into the border-districts on a large scale, so that Kashélla Belál, the first of the war chiefs, was obliged to march against them; and the road to Kanó, which I, with my usual good luck, had passed unmolested, had become so unsafe that a numerous caravan was plundered, and a well-known Arab merchant, the sheríf el Gháli, killed.

I remonstrated with him on the shamefully neglected state of the shores of the lake, which contained the finest pasture-grounds, and might yield an immense[296] quantity of rice and cotton. He entered with spirit into all my proposals; but in a short time all was forgotten. He listened with delight to what little historical knowledge I had of these countries, and inquired particularly whether Kánem had really been in former times a mighty kingdom, or whether it would be worth retaking. It was in consequence of these conversations that he began to take an interest in the former history of the country, and that the historical records of Edrís Alawóma came to light; but he would not allow me to take them into my hands, and I could only read over his shoulders. He was a very religious man; and though he admired Europeans very much on account of their greater accomplishments, he was shocked to think that they drank intoxicating liquors. However, I tried to console him by telling him that, although the Europeans were also very partial to the fair sex, yet they did not indulge in this luxury on so large a scale as he did, and that therefore he ought to allow them some other little pleasure.

He was very well aware of the misery connected with the slave-trade; for on his pilgrimage to Mekka, in the mountainous region between Fezzán and Ben-Gházi he had lost, in one night, forty of his slaves by the extreme cold, and he swore that he would never take slaves for sale, if he were to travel again. But it was more difficult to make him sensible of the horrors of slave-hunting, although, when accompanying him on the expedition to Músgu, I[297] and Mr. Overweg urged this subject with more success, as the further progress of my narrative will show. He was very desirous to open a commerce with the English, although he looked with extreme suspicion upon the form of articles in which the treaty was proposed to be drawn up; but he wished to forbid to Christians the sale of two things, viz. spirituous liquors and bibles. He did not object to bibles being brought into the country, and even given as presents; but he would not allow of their being sold. But the difficulties which I had to contend with in getting the treaty signed will be made more conspicuous as my narrative proceeds.

The most pressing matter which I had with the vizier in the first instance, after my arrival, was to obtain some money, in order to settle, at least partly, the just claims of the late Mr. Richardson’s servants, and to clear off debts which reflected little credit on the government which had sent us. I could scarcely expect that he would lend me the money without any profit, and was therefore glad to obtain it at the rate of 1000 cowries, or kúngona as they are called in Bórnu, for a dollar, to be paid in Fezzán; and I lost very little by the bargain, as the creditors, well aware of the great difficulty I was in, and acknowledging my desire to pay them off, agreed to receive for every dollar of the sum which they claimed, only 1280 cowries, while in the market the dollar fetched a much higher price. Indeed it was most grateful to my feelings to be enabled, on the 13th of April,[298] to distribute among the eight creditors 70,000 shells; and it was the more agreeable, as the more arrogant among them, seeing my extreme poverty, had assumed a tone of great insolence towards me, which I found it difficult to support in silence. Being now relieved a little in circumstances, I immediately rid myself of the carpenter, the grandiloquent Son of Jerusalem, and sent him away. He died on the road before reaching Múrzuk—a fact which the natives attributed to the curse which I had given him for having stolen something from my house.

My household now became more comfortable. Already, on the 10th of April, late in the evening, I had removed my quarters from the large empty courtyard in the eastern town, or billa gedíbe, to a small clay house in the western, or billa futébe.

This dwelling consisted of several small but neatly-made rooms, and a yard. Afterwards we succeeded in obtaining in addition an adjoining yard, which was very spacious, and included several thatched huts; and all this together formed “the English house,” which the sheikh was kind enough to concede to the English mission as long as anybody should be left there to take care of it.

Its situation was very favourable, as will be seen from the plan a few pages further on, being situated almost in the middle of the town, and nevertheless out of the way of the great thoroughfares;[299] the internal arrangement is shown in the annexed woodcut.

[300]I immediately took possession of the room No. 8., which, although very small, was altogether the best, and was very cool during the hot hours of the day. Mr. Vogel too, when he afterwards arrived, immediately fixed upon this room. There was a most splendid kórna-tree in the neighbouring courtyard, which spread its shade over the terrace of this room, and over part of the small courtyard in front of it. In our own yard we had only a very fine specimen of a chédia or caoutchouc-tree (in the first yard, No. 3.), which was afterwards a little damaged by Mr. Overweg’s monkeys, besides two very small kórna-trees in the great yard around the huts Nos. 16 and 17. Having thus made myself as comfortable as possible, I began without delay to dig a well in the small court before the house, as we had to fetch the water from another[301] well at some distance, which was much used by the people. My attempt caused some amusement to the vizier, who soon heard of it, and recognised in it a feature of the European character; for digging a well is no small undertaking in Kúkawa, although water is to be found at only nine fathoms depth; for the ground, consisting of loose sand under an upper thin layer of clay, is very apt to fall in, while the slender boughs with which the shaft is upheld, offer but little resistance. We had a great deal of trouble with our well, not only in constantly repairing it, but in the course of our stay we were thrice obliged to change the spot and dig a new well altogether. We should have been glad to set an example to the natives by building up our shaft with bricks; but with our scanty means, or rather our entire want of means, we could scarcely think of undertaking such a costly work. At a later period Mr. Overweg found a layer of shell lime in a spot of our courtyard, and got our house neatly whitewashed. The great point in this place is to protect oneself against the countless swarms of fleas which cover the ground, the best preservative being considered a frequent besmearing of the walls and the floor with cowdung. The large white ant too is most troublesome; and sugar particularly is kept with difficulty from its voracious attacks. Our rooms swarmed also with bugs, “bermáde,” but I am almost afraid that we ourselves imported them with our books. The bug, however, in Bórnu is not regarded as that nasty[302] insect which creates so much loathing in civilized countries; on the contrary the native thinks its smell aromatic.

My poor Kátsena nag, the present of the extraordinary governor of that place, almost against my expectation, had successfully carried me as far as Kúkawa, but at that point it was quite exhausted, wanting at least some months’ repose. I was, therefore, without a horse, and was obliged at first to walk on foot, which was very trying in the deep sand and hot weather. I had once entreated the vizier to lend me a horse, but Lamíno had in consequence sent me such a miserable animal that I declined mounting it. The sheikh being informed afterwards that I was bargaining for a horse, sent me one as a present; it was tall and well-formed, but of a colour which I did not like, and very lean, having just come from the country where it had got no corn, so that it was unfit for me, as I wanted a strong animal, ready to undergo a great deal of fatigue. I was already preparing for my journey to Adamáwa, and having made the acquaintance of Mʿallem Katúri, a native of Yákoba, or rather, as the town is generally called, Garún Báuchi, and an excellent man, who had accompanied several great ghazzias in that country, and particularly that most remarkable one of Amba-Sambo, the governor of Chámba, as far as the Igbo country, at the Delta of the Niger, I hired him and bought for his use a strong good travelling horse. I bought also a tolerable pony for my servant, Mohammed ben Sʿad,[303] so that, having now three horses at my command, I entered with spirit upon my career as an explorer of Negroland. All this of course was done by contracting a few little debts.

The vizier, who was well aware of the difficulties and dangers attending my proposed excursion to Adamáwa, was rather inclined to send me to the Músgu country, whither it was intended to despatch an expedition under the command of Kashélla Belál; but fortunately for me, and perhaps, also, for our knowledge of this part of the continent, the design was frustrated by an inroad of the Tawárek, which demanded the presence of this officer, the most warlike of the empire. This incursion of the plundering Kindín was made by a considerable body of men; who, having in vain tried to surprise some town on the frontier of Bórnu, turned their march towards Kánem, and went as far as Báteli, where, however, they met with but little success.

Having now a horse whereon to mount, I rode every day, either into the eastern town to pay a visit to the sheikh, or to the vizier, or roving around the whole circuit of the capital, and peeping into the varied scenes which the life of the people exhibited. The precincts of the town with its suburbs are just as interesting, as its neighbourhood (especially during the months that precede the rainy season) is monotonous and tiresome in the extreme. Certainly, the arrangement of the capital contributes a great deal to the variety of the picture which it forms, laid[305] out as it is in two distinct towns, each surrounded with its wall, the one, occupied chiefly by the rich and wealthy, containing very large establishments, while the other, with the exception of the principal thoroughfare which traverses the town from west to east, consists of rather crowded dwellings, with narrow winding lanes. These two distinct towns are separated by a space about half a mile broad, itself thickly inhabited on both sides of a wide open road which forms the connection between them, but laid out less regularly, and presenting to the eye a most interesting medley of large clay buildings and small thatched huts, of massive clay walls surrounding immense yards, and light fences of reeds in a more or less advanced state of decay, and with a[306] variety of colour, according to their age, from the brightest yellow down to the deepest black. All around these two towns there are small villages or clusters of huts, and large detached farms surrounded with clay walls, low enough to allow a glimpse from horseback over the thatched huts which they inclose.

In this labyrinth of dwellings a man, interested in the many forms which human life presents, may rove about at any time of the day with the certainty of finding never-failing amusement, although the life of the Kanúri people passes rather monotonously along, with the exception of some occasional feasting. During the hot hours, indeed, the town and its precincts become torpid, except on market-days, when the market-place itself, at least, and the road leading to it from the western gate, are most animated just at that time. For, singular as it is, in Kúkawa, as well as almost all over this part of Negroland, the great markets do not begin to be well attended till the heat of the day grows intense; and it is curious to observe what a difference prevails in this as well as in other respects between these countries and Yóruba, where almost all the markets are held in the cool of the evening.

The daily little markets, or durríya, even in Kúkawa, are held in the afternoon, and are most frequented between the ʿaser (lásari) and the mughreb (almágribu) or sunset. The most important of these durríyas is that held inside the west gate of the billa futébe; and here even camels, horses, and oxen are[307] sold in considerable numbers: but they are much inferior to the large fair, or great market, which is held every Monday on the open ground beyond the two villages which lie at a short distance from the western gate. Formerly it was held on the road to Ngórnu, before the southern gate; but it has been removed from thence, on account of the large pond of water formed during the rainy season in the hollow close to this gate.

I visited the great fair, “kásukú letenínbe,” every Monday immediately after my arrival, and found it very interesting, as it calls together the inhabitants of all the eastern parts of Bórnu, the Shúwa and the Koyám, with their corn and butter, the former, though of Arab origin and still preserving in purity his ancient character, always carrying his merchandise on the back of oxen, the women mounted upon the top of it, while the African Koyám employs the camel, if not exclusively, at least with a decided preference[77]; the Kánembú with their butter and dried fish, the inhabitants of Mákari with their tobes (the kóre berné): even Búdduma, or rather Yédiná, are very often seen in the market, selling whips made from the skin of the hippopotamus, or sometimes even hippopotamus meat, or dried fish, and attract the attention of the spectator by their slender figures, their small handsome features unimpaired by any incisions, the men generally wearing[308] a short black shirt and a small straw-hat, “súni ngáwa,” their neck adorned with several strings of kúngona, or shells, while the women are profusely ornamented with strings of glass beads, and wear their hair in a very remarkable way, though not in so awkward a fashion as Mr. Overweg afterwards observed in the island Belárigo.

On reaching the market-place from the town the visitor first comes to that part where the various materials for constructing the light dwellings of the country are sold, such as mats, of three different kinds, the thickest, which I have mentioned above as lágará, then síggedí, or the common coarse mat made of the reed called kalkálti, and the búshi, made of dúm-leaves, or “ngílle,” for lying upon; poles and stakes; the framework, “léggerá,” for the thatched roofs of huts, and the ridge-beam or “késkan súmo;” then oxen for slaughter, “fé debáterám,” or for carrying burdens, “knému lápterám;” further on, long rows of leathern bags filled with corn, ranging far along on the south side of the market-place, with either “kéwa,” the large bags for the camel, a pair of which form a regular camel’s load, or the large “jerábu,” which is thrown across the back of the pack-oxen, or the smaller “fállim,” a pair of which constitutes an ox-load, “kátkun knémube.” These long rows are animated not only by the groups of the sellers and buyers, with their weatherworn figures and torn dresses, but also by the beasts of burden, mostly oxen, which have brought the loads and which[309] are to carry back their masters to their distant dwelling places; then follow the camels for sale, often as many as a hundred or more, and numbers of horses, but generally not first-rate ones, which are mostly sold in private. All this sale of horses, camels, &c., with the exception of the oxen, passes through the hands of the dilélma or broker, who, according to the mode of announcement, takes his percentage from the buyer or the seller.

The middle of the market is occupied by the dealers in other merchandise of native and of foreign manufacture, the “amagdí” or tob from Ujé, and the kóre, or rébshi; the farásh, or “fetkéma,” and the “selláma,” the people dealing in cloths, shirts, túrkedís, beads of all sizes and colours, leatherwork, coloured boxes of very different shape and size, very neatly and elegantly made of ox-hide. There are also very neat little boxes made of the kernel, or “náge,” of the fruit of the dúm-tree. Then comes the place where the kómbuli disposes of his slaves.

There are only a few very light sheds or stalls (“kaudi”), erected here and there. In general, besides a few of the retail dealers, only the dilélma or broker has a stall, which, on this account, is called diléllam; and, no shady trees being found, both buyers and sellers are exposed to the whole force of the sun during the very hottest hours of the day, between eleven and three o’clock, when the market is most full and busy, and the crowd is often so dense that it is difficult to make one’s way through[310] it: for the place not being regularly laid out, nor the thoroughfares limited by rows of stalls, each dealer squats down with his merchandise where he likes. There are often from twelve to fifteen thousand people crowded together in the market; but the noise is not very great, the Kanúri people being more sedate and less vivacious than the Háusáwa, and not vending their wares with loud cries. However, the wanzám or barber, going about, affords amusement by his constant whistling, “kangádi.” In general, even amusements have rather a sullen character in Bórnu; and of course, in a place of business like the market, very little is done for amusement, although sometimes a serpent-tamer (“kadíma”) or a story-teller (“kosgolíma”) is met with. Also the luxuries offered to the people are very few in comparison with the varieties of cakes and sweetmeats in the market-places of Háusa; and “kólché” (the common sweet groundnut), “gángala” (the bitter groundnut), boiled beans or “ngálo,” and a few dry dates from the Tébu country, are almost the only things, besides water and a little nasty sour milk, offered as refreshment to the exhausted customer.

The fatigue which people have to undergo in purchasing their week’s necessaries in the market is all the more harassing, as there is not at present any standard money for buying and selling; for the ancient standard of the country, viz. the pound of copper, has long since fallen into disuse, though the name, “rotl,” still remains. The “gábagá,” or cotton-strips, which[311] then became usual, have lately begun to be supplanted by the cowries or “kúngona,” which have been introduced, as it seems, rather by a speculation of the ruling people, than by a natural want of the inhabitants[78], though nobody can deny that they are very useful for buying small articles, and infinitely more convenient than cotton strips. Eight cowries or kúngona are reckoned equal to one gábagá, and four gábagá, or two-and-thirty kúngona, to one rotl. Then, for buying larger objects, there are shirts of all kinds and sizes, from the “dóra,” the coarsest and smallest one, quite unfit for use, and worth six rotls, up to the large ones, worth fifty or sixty rotls. But while this is a standard value, the relation of the rotl and the Austrian dollar[79], which is pretty well current in Bórnu, is subject to extreme fluctuation, due, I must confess, at least partly, to the speculations of the ruling men, and principally to that of my friend the Háj Beshír. Indeed, I cannot defend him against the reproach of having speculated to the great detriment of the public; so that, when he had collected a great amount of kúngona, and wished to give it currency, the dollar would suddenly fall as low as to five-and-forty or fifty rotls, while at other times it would[312] fetch as much as one hundred rotls, or three thousand two hundred shells; that is, seven hundred shells more than in Kanó. The great advantage of the market in Kanó is, that there is one standard coin, which, if a too large amount of dollars be not on a sudden set in circulation, will always preserve the same value.

But to return to the market. A small farmer who brings his corn to the Monday market, or the “kásukú létenínbe,” in Kúkawa, will on no account take his payment in shells, and will rarely accept of a dollar: the person, therefore, who wishes to buy corn, if he has only dollars, must first exchange a dollar for shells, or rather buy shells; then with the shells he must buy a “kúlgu,” or shirt; and after a good deal of bartering he may thus succeed in buying the corn, be it some kind of argúm, wheat, or rice. However, these two latter articles are not always to be got, while more frequently they are only in small quantities. The rice sold in Kúkawa is wild rice, the refuse of the elephants, and of a very inferior description.

The fatigue to be undergone in the market is such that I have very often seen my servants return in a state of the utmost exhaustion. Most of the articles which are sold on the great Monday fair may also be found in the small afternoon markets or durríya, but only in small quantity, and at a higher price, and some articles will be sought for there in vain. But while there is certainly a great deal of trouble in the market of Kúkawa, it must be[313] acknowledged that the necessaries of life are cheaper there than in any other place which I have visited in Central Africa, almost half as cheap again as in Kátsena and Sókoto, a third cheaper than in Kanó, and about a fourth cheaper than in Timbúktu. About the cheapness of meat and corn in the latter place, which is indeed a very remarkable fact, and struck me with the utmost surprise when I first reached that celebrated town, I shall speak in the proper place. But I must remark that dukhn, argúm móro, or millet (Pennisetum typhoïdeum), is in greater quantity, and therefore cheaper, in Kúkawa than the durra or sorghum, “ngáberi,” just as it is in Timbúktu and Kanó, while in Bagírmi durra is much cheaper. The ngáberi of Bórnu, however, particularly that kind of it which is called matíya, and which is distinguished by its whiteness, is most excellent; and the “senásin,” a kind of thin pancake prepared from this grain, is the lightest and best food for a European in this country.

Of course the price of corn varies greatly according to the season, the lowest rates ruling about a month or two after the harvest, when all the corn in the country has been thrashed, and the highest rates just about the harvest time. In general a dollar will purchase in Kúkawa three ox-loads, “kátkun knémube,” of argúm; a dollar and a half will buy a very good ox of about six hundred pounds’ weight; two dollars fetch a pack ox (“knému”), or a milch-cow (“fé mádarabé”); one dollar, two good sheep; from seventeen to twenty rotls, a “téndu” of butter, containing[314] about four pounds’ weight. For wheat and rice the general rule in Negroland is, that they fetch double the price of the native corn. Rice might seem to be indigenous in Central Africa, growing wild everywhere, as well in Bághena, in Western Africa, as in Kótoko or Bagírmi. Wheat, on the contrary, was evidently introduced some hundred years ago, together with onions, the favourite food of the Arab, to the merits of which the native African is insensible, although it is a most wholesome article of diet in this climate, as I shall have repeatedly occasion to state.

Of fruits the most common are—the two sorts of groundnut, “kólché” and “gángala,” the former of which is a very important article of food, though by no means on so large a scale as in the eastern parts of Adamáwa; the “bíto,” the fruit of the hajilíj or Balanites Ægyptiaca (which is so much valued by the Kanúri that, according to a common proverb, a bíto-tree and a milch-cow are just the same,—“Késka bítowa féwa mádarabé kal”); a kind of Physalis, the native name of which I have forgotten; the bírgim, or the African plum, of which I shall speak further on; the kórna, or the fruit of the Rhamnus lotus; and the fruit of the dúm-palm, “kírzim” or Cucifera Thebaïca.

Of vegetables, the most common in the market are—beans of various descriptions, which likewise form a very important article of food in many districts, certainly as much as the third of the whole consumption; onions, consumed in great quantity by the Arabs, but not by the natives, who prefer to season their food[315] with the young leaves of the monkey-bread tree, “kálu kúka,” or the “karás,” or with a sauce made from dried fish. There are no sweet potatoes and no yams in this part of Bórnu, the consequence of which is that the food of the natives is less varied than in Háusa, Kébbi, or Yóruba. Yams are brought to this country as rarities, and are given as presents to influential persons.

Camels sell at from eight to twenty dollars. When there is no caravan in preparation, a very tolerable beast may be bought for the former price; but when a caravan is about to start, the best will fetch as much as twenty dollars—very rarely more; and a good camel may always be had for about fifteen dollars. Some camels may be bought for four or five dollars each, but cannot be relied on.

Very strong travelling horses for servants were during my first visit purchasable for from six to eight dollars, while an excellent horse would not fetch more than thirty dollars; but in the year 1854 the price had risen considerably, in consequence of the exportation of horses, which had formerly been forbidden, having been permitted, and great numbers having been exported to the west—chiefly to Múniyo, Kátsena, and Márádi. A first-rate horse of foreign race, however, is much dearer, and will sometimes fetch as much as three hundred dollars. I shall have another opportunity of speaking of the horses of Bórnu, which is rather an interesting and important subject, as the breed is excellent, and, besides being very handsome and of[316] good height, they bear fatigue marvellously—a fact of which one of my own horses gave the best proof, having carried me during three years of almost incessant fatigue on my expedition to Kánem, to the Músgu country, to Bagírmi, to Timbúktu, and back to Kanó, where my poor dear companion died in December, 1854: and let it be taken into consideration that, though I myself am not very heavy, I constantly carried with me a double-barrelled gun, one or two pairs of pistols, a quantity of powder and shot, several instruments, my journals, and generally even my coffeepot and some little provision.

But to return to the picture of life which the town of Kúkawa presents. With the exception of Mondays, when just during the hottest hours of the day there is much crowd and bustle in the market-place, it is very dull from about noon till three o’clock in the afternoon; and even during the rest of the day, those scenes of industry, which in the varied panorama of Kanó meet the eye, are here sought for in vain. Instead of those numerous dyeing-yards or máriná full of life and bustle, though certainly also productive of much filth and foul odours, which spread over the town of Kanó, there is only a single, and a very poor máriná in Kúkawa; no beating of tobes is heard, nor the sound of any other handicraft.

There is a great difference of character between these two towns; and, as I have said above, the Bórnu people are by temperament far more phlegmatic than those of Kanó. The women in general[317] are much more ugly, with square short figures, large heads, and broad noses with immense nostrils, disfigured still more by the enormity of a red bead or coral worn in the nostril. Nevertheless, they are certainly quite as coquettish, and, as far as I had occasion to observe, at least as wanton also, as the more cheerful and sprightly Háusa women. I have never seen a Háusa woman strolling about the streets with her gown trailing after her on the ground, the fashion of the women of Kúkawa, and wearing on her shoulders some Manchester print of a showy pattern, keeping the ends of it in her hands, while she throws her arms about in a coquettish manner. In a word, their dress, as well as their demeanour, is far more decent and agreeable. The best part in the dress or ornaments of the Bórnu women is the silver ornament (the “fállafálle kélabé”) which they wear on the back of the head, and which in taller figures, when the hair is plaited in the form of a helmet, is very becoming; but it is not every woman who can afford such an ornament, and many a one sacrifices her better interests for this decoration.

The most animated quarter of the two towns is the great thoroughfare, which, proceeding by the southern side of the palace in the western town, traverses it from west to east, and leads straight to the sheikh’s residence in the eastern town. This is the “déndal” or promenade, a locality which has its imitation, on a less or greater scale, in every town of the country.[318] This road, during the whole day, is crowded by numbers of people on horseback and on foot; free men and slaves, foreigners as well as natives, every one in his best attire, to pay his respects to the sheikh or his vizier, to deliver an errand, or to sue for justice or employment, or a present. I myself very often went along this well-trodden path—this highroad of ambition; but I generally went at an unusual hour, either at sunrise in the morning, or while the heat of the mid-day, not yet abated, detained the people in their cool haunts, or late at night, when the people were already retiring to rest or, sitting before their houses, beguiling their leisure hours with amusing tales or with petty scandal. At such hours I was sure to find the vizier or the sheikh alone; but sometimes they wished me also to visit and sit with them, when they were accessible to all the people; and on these occasions the vizier took pride and delight in conversing with me about matters of science, such as the motion of the earth, or the planetary system, or subjects of that kind.

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[319]CHAP. XXXI.

THE TSÁD.

My stay in the town was agreeably interrupted by an excursion to Ngórnu and the shores of the lake.

Thursday, April 24th.Sheikh ʿOmár, with his whole court, left Kúkawa in the night of the 23rd of April, in order to spend a day or two in Ngórnu, where he had a tolerably good house; and, having been invited by the vizier to go there, I also followed on the morning of the next day. This road to Ngórnu is strongly marked with that sameness and monotony which characterize the neighbourhood of Kúkawa. At first nothing is seen but the melancholy “káwo,” Asclepias procera or gigantea; then “ngílle,” low bushes of Cucifera, appear, and gradually trees begin to enliven the landscape, first scattered here and there, further on forming a sort of underwood. The path is broad and well-trodden, but consists mostly of deep sandy soil. There are no villages on the side of the road, but a good many at a little distance. In the rainy season some very large ponds are formed by its side. Two miles and a half before the traveller reaches Ngórnu the trees cease again, being only seen in detached clusters at a great distance, marking[320] the sites of villages, while near the road they give way to an immense fertile plain, where beans are cultivated, besides grain. However, this also is covered at this season of the year with the tiresome and endless Asclepias. Among the sites of former towns on the east side of the road is that of New Bírni, which was built by the Sultan Mohammed, when residing in Berberuwá, about the year 1820, and destroyed by Háj Beshír in the year 1847, and does not now contain a living soul. Farther on is a group of kitchen-gardens belonging to some grandees, and adorned with two or three most splendid tamarind-trees, which in this monotonous landscape have a peculiar charm.

It was about one o’clock in the afternoon when I entered Ngórnu, the town of “the blessing.” The heat being then very great, scarcely anybody was to be seen in the streets; but the houses, or rather yards, were full of people, tents having been pitched to accommodate so many visitors, while fine horses looked forth everywhere over the low fences, saluting us as we passed by. Scarcely a single clay house was to be seen, with the exception of the house of the sheikh, which lies at the end of the déndal; but nevertheless the town made the impression of comfort and ease, and every yard was neatly fenced with new “síggedí” mats, and well shaded by kórna-trees, while the huts were large and spacious.

Having in vain presented myself at the house of the vizier, where the people were all asleep, and wandered[321] about the town for a good while, I at length took up my quarters provisionally with some Arabs, till the cool of the afternoon aroused the courtiers from their long midday slumber, which they certainly may have needed, inasmuch as they had been up at two o’clock in the morning. But even after I had the good fortune to see Háj Beshír, I found it difficult to obtain quarters, and I was obliged to pitch my tent in a courtyard.

Being tired of the crowd in the town, I mounted on horseback early next morning in order to refresh myself with a sight of the lake, which I supposed to be at no great distance, and indulged beforehand in anticipations of the delightful view which I fondly imagined was soon to greet my eye. We met a good many people and slaves going out to cut grass for the horses; and leaving them to their work we kept on towards the rising sun. But no lake was to be seen, and an endless grassy plain without a single tree extended to the furthest horizon. At length, after the grass had increased continually in freshness and luxuriance, we reached a shallow swamp, the very indented border of which, sometimes bending in, at others bending out, greatly obstructed our progress. Having struggled for a length of time to get rid of this swamp, and straining my eyes in vain to discover the glimmering of an open water in the distance, I at length retraced my steps, consoling myself with the thought that I had seen at least some slight indication[322] of the presence of the watery element, and which seemed indeed to be the only thing which was at present to be seen here.

How different was this appearance of the country from that which it exhibited in the winter from 1854 to 1855, when more than half of the town of Ngórnu was destroyed by the water, and a deep open sea was formed to the south of this place, in which the fertile plain as far as the village of Kúkiya lay buried. This great change seems to have happened in consequence of the lower strata of the ground, which consisted of limestone, having given way in the preceding year, and the whole shore on this side having sunk several feet; but even without such a remarkable accident, the character of the Tsád is evidently that of an immense lagoon, changing its border every month, and therefore incapable of being mapped with accuracy. Indeed, when I saw to-day the nature of these swampy lowlands surrounding the lake, or rather lagoon, I immediately became aware that it would be quite impossible to survey its shores, even if the state of the countries around should allow us to enter upon such an undertaking. The only thing possible would be on one side to fix the furthest limit reached at times by the inundation of the lagoon, and on the other to determine the extent of the navigable waters.

Having returned to the town, I related to the vizier my unsuccessful excursion in search of the Tsád, and he obligingly promised to send some horsemen[323] to conduct me along the shore as far as Káwa, whence I should return to the capital.

Saturday, April 26th.The sheikh, with his court, having left Ngórnu before the dawn of day, on his return to Kúkawa, I sent back my camel, with my two men also, by the direct road; and then having waited awhile in vain for the promised escort, I went myself with Bu-Sʿad, to look after it, but succeeded only in obtaining two horsemen, one of whom was the Kashélla Kótoko, an amiable, quiet Kánemma chief, who ever afterwards remained my friend, and the other a horseguard of the sheikh’s, of the name of Sále. With these companions we set out on our excursion, going north-east; for due east from the town, as I now learned, the lagoon was at present at more than ten miles’ distance. The fine grassy plain seemed to extend to a boundless distance, uninterrupted by a single tree, or even a shrub; not a living creature was to be seen, and the sun began already to throw a fiery veil over all around, making the vicinity of the cooling element desirable. After a little more than half an hour’s ride we reached swampy ground, and began to make our way through the water, often up to our knees on horseback. We thus came to the margin of a fine open sheet of water, encompassed with papyrus and tall reed, of from ten to fourteen feet in height, of two different kinds, one called “méle,” and the other “bóre,” or “bóle.” The méle has a white tender core, which is eaten by the natives, but to me seemed insipid; the bóre has a head[324] like the common bulrush, and its stalk is triangular. The thicket was interwoven by a climbing plant with yellow flowers, called “bórbuje” by the natives, while on the surface of the water was a floating plant called, very facetiously, by the natives, “fánna-billa-bágo” (the homeless fánna). This creek was called “Ngíruwá.”

Then turning a little more to the north, and passing still through deep water full of grass, and most fatiguing for the horses, while it seemed most delightful to me, after my dry and dreary journey through this continent, we reached another creek, called “Dímbebér.” Here I was so fortunate as to see two small boats, or “mákara,” of the Búdduma, as they are called by the Kanúri, or Yédiná, as they call themselves, the famous pirates of the Tsád. They were small flat boats, made of the light and narrow wood of the “fógo,” about twelve feet long, and managed by two men each; as soon as the men saw us, they pushed their boats off from the shore. They were evidently in search of human prey; and as we had seen people from the neighbouring villages, who had come here to cut reeds to thatch their huts anew for the rainy season, we went first to inform them of the presence of these constant enemies of the inhabitants of these fertile banks of the lagoon, that they might be on their guard; for they could not see them, owing to the quantity of tall reeds with which the banks and the neighbouring land was overgrown.

We then continued our watery march. The sun[325] was by this time very powerful; but a very gentle cooling breeze came over the lagoon, and made the heat supportable. We had water enough to quench our thirst—indeed more than we really wanted; for we might have often drunk with our mouth, by stooping down a little, on horseback, so deeply were we immersed. But the water was exceedingly warm, and full of vegetable matter. It is perfectly fresh, as fresh as water can be. It seems to have been merely from prejudice that people in Europe have come to the conclusion that this Central African basin must either have an outlet, or must be salt. For I can positively assert that it has no outlet, and that its water is perfectly fresh. Indeed I do not see from whence saltness of the water should arise in a district in which there is no salt at all, and in which the herbage is so destitute of this element, that the milk of the cows and sheep fed on it is rather insipid, and somewhat unwholesome. Certainly, in the holes around the lagoon, where the soil is strongly impregnated with natron, and which are only for a short time of the year in connection with the lake, the water, when in small quantity, must savour of the peculiar quality of the soil; but when these holes are full, the water in them likewise is fresh.

While we rode along these marshy, luxuriant plains, large herds of “kelára” started up, bounding over the rushes, and sometimes swimming, at others running, soon disappeared in the distance. This is a peculiar kind of antelope, which I have nowhere seen[326] but in the immediate vicinity of the lake. In colour and size it resembles the roe, and has a white belly. The kelára is by no means slender, but rather bulky, and extremely fat; this, however, may not be a specific character, but merely the consequence of the rich food which it enjoys here. It may be identical with, or be a variety of the Antilope Arabica, and the Arabs, and those of the natives who understand a little Arabic, call both by the same name, “el áriyel.”

Proceeding onwards, we reached about noon another creek, which is used occasionally by the Búdduma as a harbour, and is called “Ngúlbeá.” We, however, found it empty, and only inhabited by ngurútus, or river-horses, which, indeed, live here in great numbers, snorting about in every direction, and by two species of crocodiles. In this quarter there are no elephants, for the very simple reason that they have no place of retreat during the night; for this immense animal (at least in Africa) appears to be very sensible of the convenience of a soft couch in the sand, and of the inconvenience of mosquitoes too; wherefore it prefers to lie down on a spot a little elevated above the swampy ground, whither it resorts for its daily food. On the banks of the northern part of the Tsád, on the contrary, where a range of low sandhills and wood encompasses the lagoon, we shall meet with immense herds of this animal.

Ngúlbeá was the easternmost point of our excursion; and, turning here a little west from north, we continued our march over drier pasture-grounds,[327] placed beyond the reach of the inundation, and, after about three miles, reached the deeply-indented and well-protected creek called “Ngómarén.” Here I was most agreeably surprised by the sight of eleven boats of the Yédiná. Large, indeed, they were considering the ship-building of these islanders; but otherwise they looked very small and awkward, and, resting quite flat on the water, strikingly reminded me of theatrical exhibitions in which boats are introduced on the stage. They were not more than about twenty feet long[80], but seemed tolerably broad; and one of them contained as many as eleven people, besides a good quantity of natron and other things. They had a very low waist, but rather a high and pointed prow. They are made of the narrow boards of the fógo-tree, which are fastened together with ropes from the dúm-palm, the holes being stopped with bast.

The Kánembú inhabitants of many neighbouring villages carry on trade with the islanders almost uninterruptedly, while elsewhere the latter are treated as most deadly enemies. Two parties of Kánembú happened to be here with argúm or millet, which they exchange for the natron. They were rather frightened when they saw us, the Búdduma being generally regarded as enemies; but the sheikh and his counsellors are well aware of this intercourse, and,[328] wanting either the spirit or the power to reduce those islanders to subjection, they must allow their own subjects, whom they fail to protect against the continual inroads of the Búdduma, to deal with the latter at their own discretion. It was my earnest wish to go on board one of the boats, and to examine their make attentively; and, with the assistance of Kashélla Kótoko, who was well-known to the Búdduma, I should perhaps have succeeded, if Bú-Sʿad, my Mohammedan companion, had not behaved like a madman: indeed I could scarcely restrain him from firing at these people, who had done us no harm. This was certainly a mere outbreak of fanaticism. When the people in the boats saw my servant’s excited behaviour, they left the shore, though numerous enough to overpower us; and we then rode on to another creek called Méllelá, whence we turned westwards, and in about an hour, partly through water, partly over a grassy plain, reached Maduwári.

Maduwári, at that time, was an empty sound for me—a name without a meaning, just like the names of so many other places at which I had touched on my wanderings; but it was a name about to become important in the history of the expedition, to which many a serious remembrance was to be attached. Maduwári was to contain another white man’s grave, and thus to rank with Ngurútuwa.

When I first entered the place from the side of the lake, it made a very agreeable impression upon me, as it showed evident signs of ease and comfort, and, instead of being closely packed together, as most of the[329] towns and villages of the Kanúri are, it lay dispersed in eleven or twelve separate clusters of huts, shaded by a rich profusion of korna- and bíto-trees. I was conducted by my companion, Kashélla Kótoko, to the house of Fúgo ʿAli. It was the house wherein Mr. Overweg, a year and a half later, was to expire; while Fúgo ʿAli himself, the man who first contracted friendship with me, then conducted my companion on his interesting navigation round the islands of the lake, and who frequented our house, was destined to fall a sacrifice in the revolution of 1854. How different was my reception then, when I first went to his house on this my first excursion to the lake, and when I revisited it with Mr. Vogel in the beginning of 1855, when Fúgo ʿAli’s widow was sobbing at my side, lamenting the ravages of time, the death of my companion, and that of her own husband.

The village pleased me so much that I took a long walk through it before I sat down to rest; and after being treated most sumptuously with fowls and a roasted sheep, I passed the evening very agreeably in conversation with my black friends. The inhabitants of all these villages are Kánembú[81], belonging to the tribe of the Sugúrti, who in former times were settled in Kánem, till by the wholesale devastation of that country they were compelled to leave their homes and seek a retreat in these regions. Here they have adopted the general dress of the Kanúri; and only very few of them may at present[330] be seen exhibiting their original native costume, the greatest ornament of which is the head-dress, while the body itself, with the exception of a tight leathern apron, or “fúno,” is left naked. This is a remarkable peculiarity of costume, which seems to prevail among almost all barbarous tribes. The original head-dress of the Sugúrti, that is to say, of the head men of the tribe, consists of four different articles: first the “jóka,” or cap, rather stiff, and widening at the top, where the second article, the “ariyábu” (aliyáfu), is tied round it; from the midst of the folds of the ariyábu, just over the front of the head, the “múllefu” stands forth, a piece of red cloth, stiffened, as it seems, by a piece of leather from behind; and all round the crown of the head a bristling crown of reeds rises with barbaric majesty to a height of about eight inches. Round his neck he wears a tight string of white beads, or “kulúlu,” and hanging down upon the breast, several small leather pockets, containing written charms or láya, while his right arm is ornamented with three rings, one on the upper arm, called “wíwi or bíbi,” one made of ivory, and called “chíla,” above the elbow, and another, called “kúllo,” just above the wrist. The shields of the Sugúrti, at least most of them, are broad at the top as well as at the base, and besides his large spear or kasákka, he is always armed with three or four javelins, “bállem.” But besides the Sugúrti there happened to be just then present in the village some Búdduma, handsome, slender, and intelligent people, their whole attire consisting[331] in a leathern apron and a string of white beads round the neck, which, together with their white teeth, produces a beautiful contrast with the jet-black skin. They gave me the first account of the islands of the lake, stating that the open water, which in their language is called “Kalilémma,” or rather Kúlu kemé, begins one day’s voyage from Káya, the small harbour of Maduwári, stretching in the direction of Sháwi, and that the water is thenceforth from one to two fathoms deep. I invariably understood from all the people with whom I spoke about this interesting lake, that the open water, with its islands of elevated sandy downs, stretches from the mouth of the Sháry towards the western shore, and that all the rest of the lake consists of swampy meadow-lands, occasionally inundated. I shall have occasion to speak again about this point when briefly reporting my unfortunate companion’s voyage on the lake.[82]

[332]Having closed my day’s labour usefully and pleasantly, I lay down under a sort of shed, but had much to suffer from musquitoes, which, together with fleas, are a great nuisance near the banks of the lagoon.

Sunday, April 27th.Before sunrise we were again in the saddle, accompanied by Fúgo or Púfo ʿAli, who had his double pair of small drums with him, and looked well on his stately horse. It was a beautiful morning, and I was delighted with the scene around. Clear and unbroken were the lines of the horizon, the swampy plain extending on our right towards the lake, and blending with it, so as to allow the mind that delights in wandering over distant regions a boundless expanse to rove in—an enjoyment not to be found in mountainous regions, be the mountains ever so distant. For

Thus we went on slowly northwards, while the sun rose over the patches of water, which spread over the grassy plain; and on our left the village displayed its snug yards and huts, neatly fenced and shaded by spreading trees. We now left Maduwári, and after a little while passed another village called Dógoji, when we came to a large hamlet or “berí” of Kánembú cattle-breeders, who had the care of almost all the cattle of the villages along the shores of the lake, which is very credibly reported to amount together to eleven thousand head. The herd here collected—numbering at least a thousand head, most of them of that[333] peculiar kind, called kúri, mentioned before—was placed in the midst, while the men were encamped all around, armed with long spears and light shields; at equal distances long poles were fixed in the ground, on which the butter was hung up in skins or in “kórió,” vessels made of grass. Here we had some delay, as Fúgo ʿAli, who was the inspector of all these villages, had to make inquiries respecting three head of cattle belonging to the vizier, which had been stolen during the night. On our left the considerable village of Bínder, which is at least as large as Maduwári, exhibited an interesting picture; and I had leisure to make a sketch.

Having here indulged in a copious draught of fresh milk, we resumed our march, turning to the eastward; and having passed through deep water, we reached the creek “Kógorám,” surrounded by a dense belt of tall rushes of various kinds. We were just about to leave this gulf, when we were joined by Zíntelma, another Kánemma chief, who ever afterwards remained attached to me and Mr. Overweg, with five horsemen. Our troop having thus increased, we went on cheerfully to another creek called Tábirám, whence we galloped towards Bolé, trying in vain to overtake a troop of kelára (the antelope before mentioned), which rushed headlong into the water and disappeared in the jungle. Before, however, we could get to this latter place, we had to pass very deep water, which covered my saddle, though I was mounted on a tall horse, and swamped altogether my poor Bú-Sʿad[334] on his pony; nothing but his head and his gun were to be seen for a time. But it was worth while to reach the spot which we thus attained at the widest creek of the lake as yet seen by me,—a fine open sheet of water, the surface of which, agitated by a light east wind, threw its waves upon the shore. All around was one forest of reeds of every description, while the water itself was covered with water-plants, chiefly the water-lily or Nymphæa lotus. Numberless flocks of waterfowl of every description played about. The creek has an angular form; and its recess, which makes a deep indentation from E. 30 N. to W. 30 S., is named Nghélle.

Having made our way through the water and rushes, and at length got again on firm ground, we made a momentary halt to consider what next to do. Háj Beshír had taught me to hope that it would be possible to reach on horseback the island Sóyurum[83], which extends a long way into the lake, and whence I might have an extensive view over the Kúlu kemé and many of the islands; but my companions were unanimously of opinion that the depth of the water to be crossed for many miles exceeded the height of my horse; and although I was quite ready to expose myself to more wetting, in order to see a greater portion of this most interesting feature of Central Africa, I nevertheless did not think it worth while to ride a whole day through deep water, particularly as in[335] so doing I should not be able to keep my chronometer and my compass dry; for these were now the most precious things which I had on earth, and could not be replaced or repaired so easily as gun and pistols. But moreover my horse, which had never been accustomed to fatigue, and had not been well fed, had become quite lame, and seemed scarcely able to carry me back to Kúkawa. I therefore gave up the idea of visiting the island, which in some years, when the lake does not rise to a great height, may be reached with little inconvenience[84], and followed my companions towards the large village of Káwa.[85]

Passing over fields planted with cotton and beans, but without native corn, which is not raised here at all, we reached Káwa after an hour’s ride, while we passed on our left a small swamp. Káwa is a large straggling village, which seems to enjoy some political preeminence above the other places hereabouts, and on this account is placed in a somewhat hostile position to the independent inhabitants of the islands, with which the Kánembú in general keep up a sort[336] of peaceful intercourse. What to me seemed the most interesting objects were the splendid trees adorning the place. The sycamore under which our party was desired to rest in the house of Fúgo ʿAli’s sister was most magnificent, and afforded the most agreeable resting-place possible, the space overshadowed by the crown of the tree being inclosed with a separate fence, as the “fágé,” or place of meeting. Here we were feasted with a kind of “boló-boló,” or water mixed with pounded argúm or dukhn, sour milk, and meat, and then continued our march to Kúkawa, where we arrived just as the vizier was mounting on horseback to go to the sheikh. Galloping up to him, we paid him our respects; and he expressed himself well pleased with me. My companions told him that we had been swimming about in the lake for the last two days, and that I had written down everything. The whole cavalcade, consisting of eight horsemen, then accompanied me to my house, where I gave them a treat.

I returned just in time from my excursion; for the next day the caravan for Fezzán encamped outside the town, and I had to send off two of my men with it. One of them was the carpenter Ibrahím, a handsome young man, but utterly unfit for work, of whom I was extremely glad to get rid; the other was Mohammed el Gatróni, my faithful servant from Múrzuk, whom I dismissed with heartfelt sorrow. He had had a very small salary; and I therefore promised to give him four Spanish dollars a month, and[337] to mount him on horseback, but it was all in vain; he was anxious to see his wife and children again, after which he promised to come back. I, therefore, like the generals of ancient Rome, gave him leave of absence—“pueris procreandis daret operam.”

On the other side, it was well worth a sacrifice to send a trustworthy man to Fezzán. The expedition had lost its director, who alone was authorized to act in the name of the Government which had sent us out; we had no means whatever, but considerable debts, and without immediate aid by fresh supplies, the surviving members could do no better than to return home as soon as possible. Moreover, there were Mr. Richardson’s private things to be forwarded, and particularly his journal, which, from the beginning of the journey down to the very last days of his life, he had kept with great care,—more fortunate he, and more provident in this respect than my other companion, who laughed at me when, during moments of leisure, I finished the notes which I had briefly written down during the march, and who contended that nothing could be done in this respect till after a happy return home. I therefore provided Mohammed, upon whose discretion and fidelity I could entirely rely, with a camel, and intrusted to him all Mr. Richardson’s things and my parcel of letters, which he was to forward by the courier, who is generally sent on by the caravan after its arrival in the Tébu country.

There were two respectable men with the caravan,[338] Háj Hasan, a man belonging to the family of El Kánemi, and in whose company Mr. Vogel afterwards travelled from Fezzán to Bórnu, and Mohammed Titíwi. On the second of May, therefore, I went to pay a visit to these men, but found only Titíwi, to whom I recommended my servant. He promised to render him all needful assistance. I had but little intercourse with this man, yet this little occurred on important occasions, and so his name has become a pleasant remembrance to me. I first met him when sending off the literary remains of my unfortunate companion. I at the same time ventured to introduce myself to her Majesty’s Government, and to try if it would so far rely upon me, a foreigner, as to intrust me with the further direction of the expedition, and to ask for means; it was then Titíwi again who brought me the most honourable despatches from the British Government, authorizing me to carry out the expedition just as it had been intended, and at the same time means for doing so. It was Titíwi, who, on the day when I was leaving Kúkawa on my long adventurous journey to Timbúktu, came to my house to wish me success in my arduous undertaking; and it was Titíwi again, who, on the second of August, 1855, came to the consul’s house, in Tripoli, to congratulate me on my successful return from the interior.

He was an intelligent man, and being informed that I was about to undertake a journey to Adamáwa, the dangers of which he well knew, he expressed his astonishment that I should make the attempt with a[339] weak horse, such as I was then riding. My horse, though it had recovered a little from its lameness, and was getting strength from a course of dumplings made of the husk of Negro corn mixed with natron, which it had to swallow every morning and evening, was anything but a good charger; and having previously determined to look about for a better horse, I was only confirmed in my intention by the observation of the experienced merchant.

This was one of the largest slave caravans which departed during my stay in Bórnu; for, if I am not mistaken, there were seven hundred and fifty slaves in the possession of the merchants who went with it. Slaves are as yet the principal export from Bórnu, and will be so till the slave trade on the north coast is abolished.[86]

Overweg had not yet arrived, although we had received information that he was on his way directly from Zínder, having given up his intention of visiting Kanó. Before I set out on my journey to Adamáwa, it was essential that I should confer with him about many things, and particularly as to what he himself should first undertake, but the rainy season was fast approaching even here, while in Adamáwa it had set in long ago, and it seemed necessary that I should not delay any longer. In the afternoon of the fifth of May, we had the first unmistakeable token of the rainy season—a few heavy claps of thunder followed[340] by rain. But I did not tarry; the very same day I bought in the market all that was necessary for my journey, and the next day succeeded in purchasing a very handsome and strong gray horse, “kerí bul,” for twelve hundred and seventy rotls, equal at that moment to two and thirty Austrian dollars, while I sold my weak horse which the sheikh had given me for nine hundred rotls, or twenty-two dollars and a half.

Having also bought an Arab saddle, I felt myself quite a match for anybody, and hearing in the afternoon that the sheikh had gone to Gawánge, a place two miles and a half E. from the town towards the lake, I mounted my new steed, and setting off at a gallop, posted myself before the palace just when ʿOmár was about to come out with the flourishing of the trumpets, sounding the Háusa word “gashí, gashí,” “here he is, here he is.” The sheikh was very handsomely dressed in a fine white bernús over another of light blue colour, and very well mounted on a fine black horse, “fir kéra.” He was accompanied by several of his and the vizier’s courtiers, and about two hundred horsemen, who were partly riding by his side, partly galloping on in advance and returning again to the rear, while sixty slaves, wearing red jackets over their shirts, and armed with matchlocks, ran in front of and behind his horse. The vizier, who saw me first, saluted me very kindly, and sent Hámza Weled el Góni to take me to the sheikh, who made a halt, and asked me very graciously how I[341] was going on, and how my excursion to the lake had amused me. Having then taken notice of my sprightly horse, the vizier called my servant, and expressed his regret, that the horse which they had presented to me had not proved good, saying that I ought to have informed them, when they would have given me a better one. I promised to do so another time, and did not forget the warning.

Wednesday, May 7th.Mr. Overweg arrived. The way in which he was announced to me was so singular as to merit description. It was about an hour before noon, and I was busy collecting some interesting information from my friend Ibrahím el Futáwi about Tagánet, when suddenly the little Mʿadi arrived. This lad, a liberated slave, had been Mr. Richardson’s servant, and is frequently mentioned in that gentleman’s journal. As he had been among those of my companion’s people who, to my great regret, had left Kúkawa the day before I arrived without having their claims settled, I was very glad when he came back, but could not learn from him how it happened that he returned; when, after some chat, he told me, incidentally, that the tabíb (Mr. Overweg) was also come, and was waiting for me in Kálilwá. Of course it was the latter who, meeting the lad on the road, had brought him back, and had sent him now expressly to inform me of his arrival. This dull but good-natured lad, who was afterwards severely wounded in the service of the mission, is now Mr. Vogel’s chief servant.

[342]As soon as I fully understood the purport of this important message, I ordered my horse to be saddled, and mounted. The sun was extremely powerful just about noon, shortly before the setting-in of the rainy season, and as I had forgotten, in the hurry and excitement, to wind a turban round my cap, I very nearly suffered a sun-stroke. A traveller cannot be too careful of his head in these countries.

I found Overweg in the shade of a nebek-tree near Kálilwá. He looked greatly fatigued and much worse than when I left him, four months ago, at Tasáwa; indeed, as he told me, he had been very sickly in Zínder—so sickly, that he had been much afraid lest he should soon follow Mr. Richardson to the grave. Perhaps the news which he just then heard of our companion’s death made him more uneasy about his own illness. However, we were glad to meet again alive, and expressed our hopes to be able to do a good deal for the exploration of these countries. He had had an opportunity of witnessing, during his stay in Góber and Marádi, the interesting struggle going on between this noblest part of the Háusa nation and the Fúlbe, who threaten their political as well as religious independence[87]; and he was deeply impressed with the charming scenes of unrestrained[343] cheerful life which he had witnessed in those pagan communities; while I, for my part, could assure him, that my reception in Bórnu seemed to guarantee success, although, under existing circumstances, there seemed to be very little hope that we should ever be able to make a journey all round the Tsád; but I thought that, with the assistance of those people in Bínder and Maduwári whom I had just visited, and who appeared to be on friendly terms with the islanders, it might be possible to explore the navigable part of the lagoon in the boat.

Mr. Overweg was, in some respects, very badly off, having no clothes with him except those which he actually wore, all his luggage being still in Kanó, though he had sent two men to fetch it. I was therefore obliged to lend him my own things, and he took up his quarters in another part of our house, though it was rather small for our joint establishment. The vizier was very glad of his arrival, and, in fulfilment of his engagement to deliver all the things left by Mr. Richardson[88] as soon as Mr. Overweg should arrive, he sent all the half-empty boxes of our late companion in the evening of the next day; even the gun and pistols, and the other things which had been sold, were returned, with the single exception of Mr. Richardson’s watch, which, as the sheikh was very fond of it, and kept it near him night and day,[344] I thought it prudent to spare him the mortification of returning.

Mr. Overweg and I, having then made a selection from the articles that remained to us, presented to the vizier, on the morning of the ninth, those destined for him, and in the afternoon we presented the sheikh with his share. These presents could not be now expected to please by their novelty, or to awaken a feeling of gratitude in the receivers, who had long been in possession of them; but although made to understand by Mr. Richardson’s interpreters that he alone had been authorized by the British Government, Mr. Overweg and I not being empowered to interfere, and that consequently they might regard themselves as legitimate possessors of our deceased companion’s property, they must yet have entertained some doubt about the equity of their claim; and as soon as I arrived, and began to act with firmness, they grew ashamed of having listened to intriguing servants. In short, though we had put them to shame, they esteemed us all the better for our firmness, and received their presents in a very gracious manner.

We now spoke also about the treaty, the negotiation of which, we said, had been specially intrusted to our companion, but now, by his death, had devolved on us. Both of them assured us of their ardent desire to open commercial intercourse with the English, but at the same time they did not conceal that their principal object in so doing was to obtain fire-arms.[345] They also expressed their desire that two of their people might return with us to England, in order to see the country and its industry, which we told them we were convinced would be most agreeable to the British Government. Our conversation was so unrestrained and friendly, that the sheikh himself took the opportunity of excusing himself for having appropriated Mr. Richardson’s watch.

But the following narrative will show how European travellers, endeavouring to open these countries to European intercourse, have to struggle against the intrigues of the Arabs; who are well aware that as soon as the Europeans, or rather the English, get access to Negroland, not only their slave-trade, but even their whole commerce, as they now carry it on, will be annihilated.

We had scarcely re-entered our house when, the rumour spreading through the Arab quarter of the manner in which we had been received, and of the matters talked of, El Khodr, a native of Dar-Fúr, and the foremost of the native traders, went to the sheikh with the news that seven large vessels of the English had suddenly arrived at Núpe, and that the natives were greatly afraid of them. This announcement was soon found to be false, but nevertheless it served its purpose, to cool a little the friendly and benevolent feeling which had been manifested towards us.

The following day we went to pitch the large double tent, which we had given to the sheikh, on[346] the open area before his palace in the eastern town; and having fully succeeded in arranging it, although a few pieces were wanting, it was left the whole day in its place, and made a great impression upon the people. At first it seemed rather awkward to the natives, whose tents, even if of large size, are mere bell-tents; but in the course of time it pleased the sheikh so much, that when I finally left the country, he begged me to entreat the British Government to send him another one like it.[89]

We also paid our respects to the principal of the sheikh’s brothers, as well as to his eldest son. Having obtained permission, we visited ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, the brother and rival of the sheikh, as we could not prudently be wanting in civility to a person who might soon get the upper hand. We presented him with a fine white heláli bernús, and sundry small things; he received us very graciously, and laughed and chatted a good deal with us on the first as well as on a second visit, when I was obliged to show him the pictures in Denham’s and Clapperton’s work, and the drawing I had myself made of his friend, the Kánemma chief, Ámsakay, of which he had heard; but his manners did not please us very much. His countenance had a very wild expression, and he manifested little intelligence or princely demeanour, wrangling and playing the whole day with his slaves. Besides,[347] we were obliged to be cautious in our dealings with him; for we had scarcely made his acquaintance, when he sent us a secret message, begging for poison, with which he most probably wished to rid himself of his deadly enemy the vizier. Quite a different man was Yúsuf, the sheikh’s second brother, with whom during my last stay in Kúkawa, in the beginning of 1855, I became intimately acquainted. He was a learned and very religious man, always reading, and with a very acute sense of justice; but he was not a man of business. As for Bú-Bakr, the eldest son of ʿOmár, who now unfortunately seems to have the best claim to the succession, he was a child, devoid of intelligence or noble feelings. Twice was I obliged to have recourse to his father to make him pay me for some articles which he had bought of me.

The much desired moment of my departure for Adamáwa drew nearer and nearer. The delay of my starting on this undertaking, occasioned by the late arrival of Mr. Overweg, had been attended with the great advantage that, meanwhile, some messengers of the governor of that country had arrived, in whose company, as they were returning immediately, I was able to undertake the journey with a much better prospect of success. The subject of their message was, that Kashélla ʿAlí Ladán, on his late predatory incursion into the Marghí country, had enslaved and carried away inhabitants of several places to which the governor of Adamáwa laid claim, and it was more in order to establish his right, than from any real[348] concern in the fate of these unfortunate creatures, that he was pleased to lay great stress upon the case. Indeed, as the sequel shows, his letter must have contained some rather harsh or threatening expressions, to which the ruler of Bórnu was not inclined to give way, though he yielded[90] to the justice of the specific[349] claim. At first these messengers from Adamáwa were to be my only companions besides my own servants, and on the 21st of May I was officially placed under their protection in the house of the sheikh by several of the first courtiers or kokanáwa, among whom were the old Ibrahím Wadáy, the friend and companion of Mohammed el Kánemi in his first heroical proceedings, Shítima Náser, Hámza, and Kashélla ʿAli, and the messengers promised to see me safe to their country, and to provide for my safe return.

Ibrahíma, the head man of these messengers, who were all of rather inferior rank, was not such a man as I wished for; but fortunately there was among them another person named Mohámmedu, who, although himself a Púllo by descent, had more of the social character of the Háusa race, and was ready to gratify my desire for information. He proved most useful in introducing me into the new country which I was to explore, and would have been of immense service to me if I had been allowed to make any stay there.

After much delay, and having twice taken official leave of the sheikh in full state, I had at length the pleasure of seeing our little band ready for starting in the afternoon of Thursday, the 29th May, 1851. Rather more, I think, with a view to his own interest, than from any apprehension on my account, the sheikh informed me, in the last interview which I had with him, that he would send an officer along with[350] me. This move puzzled me from the beginning, and caused me some misgiving; and there is not the least doubt, as the sequel will show, that to the company of this officer it must be attributed that I was sent back by Mohammed Láwl, the governor of Adamáwa, without being allowed to stay any time in the country; but, for truth’s sake, I must admit that if I had not been accompanied by this man it is doubtful whether I should have been able to overcome the very great difficulties and dangers which obstruct this road.

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[351]CHAP. XXXII.

SETTING OUT ON MY JOURNEY TO ADAMÁWA. — THE FLAT, SWAMPY GROUNDS OF BÓRNU.

Thursday, May 29th.At four o’clock in the afternoon I left the “chínna ánumbe,” the southern gate of Kúkawa, on my adventurous journey to Adamáwa. My little troop was not yet all collected. For being extremely poor at the time, or rather worse than poor, as I had nothing but considerable debts, I had cherished the hope that I should be able to carry all my luggage on one camel; but when the things were all packed up, provisions, cooking utensils, tent, and a few presents, I saw that the one weak animal which I had was not enough, and bought another of Mr. Overweg, which had first to be fetched from the pasture-ground. I therefore left two servants and my old experienced Háusa warrior, the Mʿallem Katúri, whom, as I have stated above, I had expressly hired for this journey, behind me in the town, in order to follow us in the night with the other camel.

Mr. Overweg, attended by a spirited little fellow, named ʿAli, a native of Ghát, who had brought his luggage from Kanó, accompanied me. But the most[352] conspicuous person in our troop was Bíllama[91], the officer whom the sheikh had appointed to accompany me, a tall handsome Bórnu man, mounted on a most splendid grey horse of great size, and of a very quick pace. He had two servants with him, besides a man of Malá Ibrám, likewise mounted on horseback, who was to accompany us as far as the Marghí country. The messengers from Adamáwa, as we proceeded onward, gradually collected together from the hamlets about, where they had been waiting for us, and the spearmen among them saluted me by raising their spears just in my face, and beating their small round hippopotamus shields; Mohámmedu was armed with a sword and bow and arrows. They had not been treated so well as, with reference to my prospects, the sheikh ought to have treated them, and Ibrahíma, instead of a handsome horse which was promised to him, had received a miserable poor mare, quite unfit for himself, and scarcely capable of carrying his little son and his small provision bag.

As soon as I had left the town behind me, and saw that I was fairly embarked in my undertaking, I indulged in the most pleasant feelings. I had been cherishing the plan of penetrating into those unknown countries to the south for so long a time, that I felt the utmost gratification in being at length able to carry out my design. At that time I even cherished the hope that I might succeed in reaching Báya, and[353] thus extend my inquiries even as far as the equator; but my first design was, and had always been, to decide by ocular evidence the question with regard to the direction and the tributaries of the great river which flowed through the country in the south.

Leaving the Ngórnu road to our left, we reached the village Kárba at sunset, but were received so inhospitably, that, after much opposition from a quarrelsome old woman, we took up our quarters not inside, but outside, her courtyard, and with difficulty obtained a little fire, with which we boiled some coffee, but had not firewood enough for cooking a supper, so that we satisfied our appetite with cold “díggwa,” a sweetmeat made of meal, honey, and butter. The inhabitants of the villages at no great distance from the capital are generally very inhospitable; but the traveller will find the same in any country.

Friday, May 30th.At an early hour we were ready to resume our march, not having even pitched a tent during the night. The morning was very fine; and, in comparison with the naked and bare environs of the capital, the country seemed quite pleasant to me, although the flora offered scarcely anything but stunted acacias of the gáwo and kindíl kind, while dúm-bush and the Asclepias procera formed the underwood, and coarse dry grass full of “ngíbbu” or Pennisetum distichum covered the ground. Now and then a fine tamarind-tree interrupted this monotony, and formed a landmark; indeed both the well which we passed (Tamsúkú-korí) and the village Tamsúkwá,[354] have received their names from this most beautiful and useful tree, which in Kanúri is called tamsúku or temsúku.

After only four hours’ march we halted near the village Pírtwa, as Mr. Overweg was now to return, and as I wished my other people to come up. Having long tried in vain to buy some provisions with our “kúngona” or shells, Mr. Overweg at length succeeded in purchasing a goat with his servant’s shirt. This article, even if much worn, is always regarded as ready money in the whole of Negroland; and as long as a man has a shirt he is sure not to starve. Afterwards the inhabitants of the village brought us several bowls of “bírri,” or porridge of Negro corn; and we employed ourselves in drinking coffee and eating, till it was time for Mr. Overweg to depart, when we separated with the most hearty wishes for the success of each other’s enterprise: for we had already fully discussed his undertaking to navigate the lagoon in the English boat.

We then started at a later hour, and, following a more westerly path, took up our night’s quarters at Dýnnamarí, the village of Dýnnama or Ámade. Instead of this most westerly road, my people had taken the most easterly; and we at length joined them, a little before noon of the following day, at the village Úlo Kurá, which, with the whole district, belongs to the “Mágirá” (the mother of the sheikh), and so forms a distinct domain called “Mágirári.” But the country for thirty or forty miles round Kúkawa is[355] intersected by so many paths, that it is very difficult for parties to meet, if the place of rendezvous has not been precisely indicated. The country hereabouts at this time of the year presents a most dreary appearance, being full of those shallow hollows of deep-black argillaceous soil called “fírki” by the Kanúri, and “ghadír” by the Arabs, which during the rainy season form large ponds of water, and when the rainy season draws to an end, and the water decreases, afford the most excellent soil for the cultivation of the “másakwá,” a species of holcus (H. cernuus), which constitutes a very important article of cultivation in these alluvial lowlands round the Tsád, or even for wheat. At a later season, after the grain is harvested, these hollows, being sometimes of an immense extent, and quite bare and naked, give the country a most dismal appearance. The water in Úlo Kurá was extremely disagreeable, owing to this nature of the ground.

Continuing our march in the afternoon, after the heat had decreased, we passed, after about four miles, the first encampment of Shúwa, or berí Shúwabe, which I had yet seen in the country. Shúwa is a generic name, denoting all the Arabs (or rather eastern Arabs) settled in Bórnu and forming a component part of the population of the country; in Bagírmi they are called Shíwa. No Arab from the coast is ever denoted by this name; but his title is Wásirí, or Wásilí. This native Arab population appears to have immigrated from the east at a very[356] early period, although at present we have no direct historical proof of the presence of these Arabs in Bórnu before the time of Edrís Alawóma[92], about two hundred and fifty years ago.

Of the migration of these Arabs from the east, there cannot be the least doubt. They have advanced gradually through the eastern part of Negroland, till they have overspread this country, but without proceeding further towards the west. Their dialect is quite different from the Mághrebí, while in many respects it still preserves the purity and eloquence of the language of Hijáz, particularly as regards the final vowels in the conjugation. Many of their national customs, also, still point to their ancient settlements, as we shall see further on. I became very intimate with these people at a later period, by taking into my service a young Shúwa lad, who was one of my most useful servants on my journey to Timbúktu. These Shúwa are divided into many distinct families or clans, and altogether may form in Bórnu a population of from 200,000 to 250,000 souls, being able to bring into the field about 20,000 light cavalry. Most of them have fixed villages, where they live during the rainy season, attending the labours of the field, while during the remaining part of the year they wander about with their cattle. I shall say more about them in the course of my proceedings, as opportunity occurs. The clan, whose encampment or berí we passed to-day[357] are generally called Kárda by the Bórnu people—I cannot say why[93],—while their indigenous name, “Bajáudi,” seems to indicate an intermixture with the Fúlbe or Felláta, with whom the Shúwa in general are on the most friendly terms, and may often be confounded with them on account of the similarity of their complexion and manners. In fact there is no doubt that it was the Shúwa who prepared and facilitated the settlement of the Fúlbe or Felláta in Bórnu.

We took up our quarters for the night in one of the four clusters of huts which form the village Múngholo Gezáwa, and which, by the neatness and cleanliness of its yards and cottages, did honour to its lord, the vizier of Bórnu. It was here that I first observed several small pools of rain-water, which bore testimony to the greater intensity and the earlier setting in of the rainy season in these regions. There were also great numbers of water-fowl seen hereabouts.

Sunday, June 1st.When we left our quarters in the morning we hesitated a while as to what road to take, whether that by “Múbiyó,” or that by “Úda” or “Wúda;” but at length we decided for the latter. The country exhibited a peculiar but not very cheerful character, the ground consisting, in the beginning, of white clay, and further on of a soil called “gárga” by[358] the Kanúri people, and now and then quite arid and barren, while at other times it was thickly overgrown with prickly underwood, with a tamarind-tree shooting up here and there. We then came to a locality covered with a dense forest, which at a later period in the rainy season forms one continuous swamp, but at present was dry, with the exception of some deep hollows already filled with water. Here we found some of the inhabitants of the district, all of whom are Shúwa, busy in forming watering-places for the cattle, by inclosing circular hollows with low dikes. One of these people was of a complexion so light as to astonish me; indeed he was no darker than my hands and face, and perhaps even a shade lighter: his features were those of the Shúwa in general, small and handsome; his figure slender. The general size of these Arabs does not exceed five feet and a half: but they look much taller, on account of the peculiar slenderness of their forms; for, although I have seen many specimens of stout Fúlbe, I have scarcely ever seen one robust Shúwa. The forest was enlivened by numberless flocks of wild pigeons.

We then emerged into a more open country, passing several villages of a mixed population, half of them being Shúwa, the other half Kanúri. All their huts have a thatched roof of a perfectly spherical shape, quite distinct from the general form of huts in this country, the top, or “kógi ngímbe,” being entirely wanting. One of these villages, called Dásedísk, is well remembered by the people on account of[359] the sheikh, Mohammed el Kánemi, having been once encamped in its neighbourhood. At a rather early hour we halted for the heat of the day in a village called Ménoway, where an old decrepit Shúwa from Úda, led by his equally aged and faithful better half, came to me in quest of medicine for his infirmities. To my great vexation, a contribution of several fowls was laid by my companions upon the villagers for my benefit; and I had to console an old blind man, who stumbled about in desperate search after his cherished hen. There was a numerous herd of cattle just being watered at the two wells of the village.

Starting again in the afternoon, we reached one of the hamlets forming the district Magá just in time to avoid the drenching of a violent storm which broke forth in the evening. But the lanes formed by the fences of the yards were so narrow that we had the greatest difficulty in making our camels pass through them—an inconvenience which the traveller experiences very often in these countries, where the camel is not the indigenous and ordinary beast of burden. The well here was nine fathoms deep.

Monday, June 2nd.Starting tolerably early, we reached after two miles an extensive fírki, the black boggy soil of which, now dry, showed a great many footprints of the giraffe. This I thought remarkable at the moment, but still more so when, in the course of my travels, I became aware how very rarely this animal, which roams over the extensive and thinly-inhabited plains on the border of Negroland,[360] is found within the populous districts. This “fírki” was the largest I had yet seen, and exceeded three miles in length. Much rain had already fallen hereabouts; and further on, near a full pond, we observed two wild hogs (gadó), male (bí) and female (kúrgurí), running one after the other. This also was a new sight for me, as heretofore I had scarcely seen a single specimen of this animal in this part of the world; but afterwards I found that, in the country between this and Bagírmi, this animal lives in immense numbers. We here overtook a small troop of native traders, or “tugúrchi,” with sumpter oxen laden with natron, while another with unloaded beasts was just returning from Ujé. A good deal of trade is carried on in this article with the last-named place.

Having gone on in advance of the camels with Bíllama and Mʿallem Katúri, I waited a long time under a splendid “chédia,” or “jéja” (the Háusa name), the caoutchouc tree, indicating the site of a large town of the Gámerghú, called Muná (which has been destroyed by the Fúlbe or Felláta), expecting our people to come up, as we intended to leave the direct track and go to a neighbouring village, wherein to spend the hot hours of the day; but as they delayed too long, we thought we might give them sufficient indication of our having left the road by laying a fresh branch across it. This is a very common practice in the country; but it requires attention on the part of those who follow, and may sometimes[361] lead to confusion. On one occasion, when I had, in like manner, gone on in advance of my people, a second party of horsemen, who had likewise left their people behind, came between me and my baggage-train, and, as they were pursuing a by-way, they laid a branch across the chief road; my people, on coming up to the branch, thought that it was laid by me, and, following the by-way, caused much delay. Other people make a mark with a spear. I and my horsemen went to the village and lay down in the cool shade of a tamarind-tree; but we soon became convinced that our people had not paid attention to the mark. With difficulty we obtained something to eat from the villagers.

The heat had been very oppressive; and we had just mounted our horses when a storm broke out in the south, but fortunately without reaching us. Proceeding at a swift pace, we found our people encamped in a village called Íbramrí, and, having roused them, immediately continued our march. Beyond this village I observed the first cotton-field occurring on this road. The country was thickly inhabited, and gave evidence of a certain degree of industry; in the village Bashírorí I observed a dyeing-place. The country was laid out in corn-fields of considerable extent, which had just been sown. All this district then belonged to Mestréma, as an estate in fee; but after the revolution of 1854, this man was disgraced and the estate taken from him.

I had already felt convinced that the kúka, or[362] Adansonia digitata, is one of the commonest trees of Negroland; but all the numerous specimens which I had hitherto seen of this colossal tree were leafless, forming rather gloomy and unpleasant objects: here, however, I saw it for the first time adorned with leaves; and though the foliage seemed to bear no proportion to the colossal size of the boughs, yet the tree had a much more cheerful aspect. We took up our quarters for the night in Ujé Maidúgurí, a large and comfortable-looking place, such as I had not yet met with since I left Kúkawa; but the yard, which was assigned to us by the slaves of Mestréma, was in the very worst state, and I was obliged to pitch my tent. However, we were hospitably treated, and fowls and a sheep, as well as bírri, were brought to us.

We had now reached one of the finest districts of Bórnu, which is collectively called Ujé, but which really comprises a great many places of considerable size. This was once the chief province of the Gámerghú, a tribe often mentioned in the history of Edrís Alawóma[94], and who, as their language shows, are closely related to the Wándalá or, as they are generally called, Mándara.[95] This tribe has at present lost all national independence, while its brethren in[363] Morá and the places around, protected by the mountainous character of the country, still maintain their freedom against the Kanúri and Fúlbe, but, as it seems, will soon be swallowed up by the latter. While the greater part of the Gámerghú have been exterminated, the rest are heavily taxed, although the tribute which they have to deliver to the sheikh himself consists only in butter. Every large place in this district has a market of its own; but a market of very considerable importance is held in Ujé, and is from this circumstance called Ujé Kásukulá—“kásukú” means “the market.” In Ujé Maídugurí[96] a market is held every Wednesday on the west side of the town, where a small quadrangular area is marked out with several rows of stalls or sheds. The place was once surrounded by an earthen wall, the circumference of which seems to show its greater magnitude in former times.

Escorted by a troop of Mestréma’s idle servants, we entered, on the following morning, the fine open country which stretches out on the south side of Maídugurí. The whole plain appeared to be one continuous corn-field, interrupted only by numerous villages, and shaded here and there by single monkey-bread trees, or Adansonias, and various species of fig-trees, such as the ngábbore, with their succulent dark-green foliage, and báure with large fleshy leaves of a bright-green colour. Since I left Kanó I had not[364] seen so fine a country. The plain is traversed by a large fiumara or komádugu, which comes from the neighbourhood of Aláwó, where there is a great collection of water, and reaches the Tsád by way of Díkowa, Nghála, and Mbulú. At the three latter places I have crossed it myself in the course of my travels; and between Ujé and Díkowa it has been visited by Mr. Vogel, but I do not know whether he is able to lay down its course with accuracy.

We had to cross the watercourse twice before we reached Mábaní, a considerable place situated on a broad sandy hill, at a distance of little more than four miles from Maídugurí. To my great astonishment, at so early an hour in the morning, my party proceeded to take up quarters here; but the reason was, that the messengers from Ádamáwa had to inquire hereabouts for some of the people, who, as I have stated before, had been carried away by Kashélla ʿAli. However, in the absence of the bíllama or head man of the town, a long time elapsed before we could procure quarters; but at length we succeeded in obtaining a sort of open yard, with two huts and two stalls, or “fáto síggidibé,” when I gave up the huts to my companions, and took possession of the best of the stalls, near which I pitched my tent. The town covers not only the whole top of the hill, but, descending its southern slope, extends along its foot and over another hill of less size. It may contain from nine to ten thousand inhabitants, and seems to be prosperous: indeed all the dwellings, despicable[365] as they may appear to the fastidious European, bear testimony to a certain degree of ease and wealth; and few people here seem destitute of the necessaries of life. Besides agriculture, there appears to be a good deal of domestic industry, as the market-place, situated on the eastern slope of the hill, and consisting of from a hundred and fifty to two hundred stalls, and a dyeing-place close by it, amply testify.[97] I have already mentioned in another place the shirts which are dyed in this district, and which are called “ámaghdí.”

When the heat had abated a little I made a pleasant excursion on horseback, accompanied by Bíllama and Bú-Sʿad, first in an easterly direction, through the plain to a neighbouring village, and then turning northward to the komádugu, which forms here a beautiful sweep, being lined on the north side by a steep grassy bank adorned with fine trees. The southern shore was laid out in kitchen-gardens, where, a little further in the season, wheat and onions are grown. In the bottom of the fiumara we found most delicious water only a foot and a half beneath the surface of the sand, while the water which we obtained in the town, and which was taken from the[366] pools at the foot of the hill, was foul and offensive. These pools are enlivened by a great number of water-fowl, chiefly herons and flamingoes.

The forenoon of Wednesday also I gave up to the solicitation of my Ádamáwa companions, and usefully employed my time in writing “bolíde Fulfúlde,” or the language of the Fúlbe, and more particularly the dialect spoken in Ádamáwa, which is indeed very different from the Fulfúlde spoken in Góber and Kébbi. Meanwhile old Mʿallem Katúri was bitten by a scorpion, and I had to dress the wound with a few drops of ammonia, for which he was very grateful.

In the afternoon we pursued our march; and I then became aware that we had made a great détour, Maídugurí, as well as Mábaní, not lying on the direct route. We had been joined in the latter place by a party of “pilgrim traders” from the far distant Másena, or, as in European maps the name is generally written, Massina, on their home-journey from Mekka, who excited much interest in me. The chief person among them was a native of Hamd-Alláhi[98], the capital of the new Púllo kingdom of Mélle, or Másena, who carried with him a considerable number of books, which he had bought in the[367] east more for the purposes of trade than for his own use. He was mounted on a camel, but had also a pack-ox laden with salt, which he had been told he might dispose of to great advantage in Ádamáwa. Thus pilgrims are always trading in these countries. But this poor man was not very successful; for his books were partly spoiled in crossing the river Bénuwé, and his camel died during the rainy season in Ádamáwa. However, he thence continued his journey homewards, while his four companions returned eastward and met with me once more in Logón, and the last time on the banks of the Shári. Two of them were mounted on fine asses, which they had brought with them from Dár-Fúr.

Our way led us through a populous and fertile country, first along the meandering course of the komádugu, which was here lined with ngábbore or ficus, and with the birgim or diña (as it is called in Háusa), a tree attaining a height of from thirty to forty feet, but not spreading wide, with leaves of a darkish green, and fruit like a small plum, but less soft, and of a black colour, though it was not yet ripe. Here I was greeted by the cheerful sight of the first corn-crop of the season, which I had yet seen—having lately sprung up, and adorning the fields with its lively fresh green. Rain had been very copious hereabouts; and several large pools were formed along the komádugu, in which the boys of the neighbouring villages were catching small fish three or four inches long, while in other places the[368] banks of the river were overgrown with beautifully-fresh grass. Having crossed and re-crossed the fiumara, we ascended its steep left bank, which in some places exhibited regular strata of sandstone. Here we passed a little dyeing-yard of two or three pots, while several small patches of indigo were seen at the foot of the bank, and a bustling group of men and cattle gathered round the well. Villages were seen lying about in every direction; and single cottages, scattered about here and there, gave evidence of a sense of security. The corn-fields were most agreeably broken by tracts covered with the bushes of the wild gonda, which has a most delicious fruit, of a fine cream-like taste, and of the size of a peach, a great part of which, however, is occupied by the stone. The country through which we passed was so interesting to me, and my conversation with my Háusa mʿallem about the labours of the field so animated, that we made a good stretch without being well aware of it, and took up our quarters in a place called Pálamarí[99] when it was already dark. However, our evening rest passed less agreeably than our afternoon’s ride, owing to a violent conjugal quarrel in an adjoining cottage, the voices of the leading pair in the dispute being supported by the shrill voices of village gossips.

Thursday, June 5th.In riding through the village, as we set out in the morning, I observed that the[369] yards were unusually spacious, and the cottages very large; but it struck me that I did not see a single “bóngo,” or hut of clay walls, and I thought myself justified in drawing the conclusion that the inhabitants must find shelter enough under their light thatched walls, and consequently that the rainy season is moderate here.

We had scarcely emerged from the narrow lanes of the village, when I was gratified with the first sight of the mountainous region; it was Mount Deládebá or Dalántubá, which appeared towards the south, and the sight of which filled my heart with joyous anticipations not unlike those with which, on my first wandering in 1840, I enjoyed the distant view of the Tyrolian Alps from the village Semling, near Munich. But our march was but a pretence; we had not been a full hour on the road, crossing a country adorned chiefly with the bushes of the wild gonda, when Bíllama left the path and entered the village Fúgo Mozári. The reason was, that to-day (Thursday) the market was held in the neighbouring Ujé Kasúkulá, and it was essential that some of our party should visit, or (to use their expression) “eat” this market.

However, I did not stay long in our quarters, which, though comfortable, were rather close, and of an extremely labyrinthine character, being divided into several small yards separated from each other by narrow passages inclosed with high síggedi mats. After a brief delay I mounted again with Bíllama and Bú-Sʿad, and after two miles reached the market-town,[370] crossing on our path a shallow branch of the komádugu, overgrown with succulent herbage, and exhibiting a scene of busy life.

The market was already well attended, and answered to its fame. As it is held every Thursday and Sunday, it is visited not only by people from Kúkawa, but also from Kanó[100], for which reason European as well as Háusa manufactures are often cheaper in Ujé than in Kúkawa. This we found to be the case with common paper, “tre lune.” The articles with which the market is provided from Kúkawa are chiefly natron and salt; and I myself bought here a good supply of this latter article, as it has a great value in Ádamáwa, and may be used as well for buying small objects as for presents. Ujé, however, derives also great importance from the slave-trade, situated as it is on the border of several Pagan tribes; and I have often heard it said that in the neighbourhood of Ujé a husband will sell his wife, or a father his child, when in want of money: but this may be an exaggeration. It is true, however, that slaves who have run away from Kúkawa are generally to be found here. There might be from five to six thousand customers; but there would be many more, if any security were guaranteed to the visitors, from the many independent tribes who are living round about, especially the Marghí, Bábir, and Kerékeré. But, as it is, I did not[371] see a single individual in the market who by his dress did not bear testimony to his Mohammedan profession.

Making several times the round of the market, I greatly excited the astonishment of the native traders, who had never seen a European. I then started with Bíllama on an excursion to Aláwó, the burial place of the great Bórnu king Edrís Alawóma, although the weather was extremely sultry, and the sun almost insupportable. The whole country is densely inhabited; and my companion, who had formerly been governor of the district, was everywhere kindly saluted by the inhabitants, particularly the women, who would kneel down by the roadside to pay him their respects. However, I was prevented from seeing the sepulchre itself by an immense morass extending in front of the town of Aláwó, and the turning of which would have demanded a great circuit. Numberless flocks of waterfowl enlivened it, while rank herbage and dense forest bordered it all round.

We therefore thought it better to return, particularly as a storm was evidently gathering; but we first went to an encampment of Shúwa, where we found a numerous family engaged, under the shade of a wide-spreading ngábbore, in all the various occupations of household work; but we were very inhospitably received when we begged for something to drink. I shall often have occasion to mention the inhospitality of these people, whom I was sometimes inclined to take for Jews by descent, rather than real Arabs. Passing then the village Pálamarí, and keeping along[372] the lovely bed of the fiumara, bordered by fine wide-spreading trees, and richly overgrown with succulent grass, upon which numbers of horses were feeding, we reached our quarters just in time; for shortly afterwards the storm, which had been hanging in the air the whole day, and had made the heat about noon more insupportable than I ever felt it in my life, came down with considerable violence. The consequence was that I was driven from the cool shed which I had occupied in the morning, into the interior of a hut, where flies and bugs molested me greatly. The sheds or stalls, which are often made with great care, but never waterproof, have the great inconvenience in the rainy season, that while they do not exclude the rain, they retain the humidity, and at the same time shut out the air from the huts to which they are attached.

In the course of the day we obtained the important news, that Mohammed Lowel, the governor of Ádamáwa, had returned from his expedition against the Bána, or rather Mbána, a tribe settled ten days’ march north-eastward from Yóla, but at less distance from Ujé. Bíllama gave me much interesting information about the country before us, chiefly with reference to Sugúr, a powerful and entirely independent pagan chief in the mountains south from Mándará. With regard to this latter country, I perceived more clearly, as I advanced, what a small province it must be, comprehending little more than the capital and a few hamlets lying close around. There came[373] to me also an intelligent-looking Púllo merchant, who was trading between Kanó and Ujé along the route indicated above; but unluckily he did not call on me until sunset, just as the prayer of the almákárifú was approaching, and he did not return in the evening as I wished him to do.

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[374]CHAP. XXXIII.

THE BORDER-COUNTRY OF THE MARGHÍ.

Friday, June 6th.We now commenced travelling more in earnest. Ibrahíma had been busy looking after his master’s subjects, who had been carried away into slavery, all about the villages in the neighbourhood, but with very little success. Our road passed close by Ujé Kásukulá, which to-day looked quite deserted; and then through a populous country with numerous villages and fine pasture-grounds, where I saw the plant called “wálde” by the Fúlbe.

I had taken great pains in Kúkawa, while gathering information about the country whither I was going, to ascertain from my informants whether snow ever lies there on the tops of the mountains or not; but I could never get at the truth, none of the natives whom I interrogated having ever visited North Africa, so as to be able to identify what he saw on the tops of the mountains in his country with the snow seen in the north. Áhmedu bel Mejúb, indeed, knew the Atlas, and had seen snow on some of the tops of that range; but he had paid little attention to the subject, and did not think himself justified in deciding the question. Now this morning, when we obtained[375] once more a sight of Mount Dalántubá, marking out as it were, the beginning of a mountainous region, we returned again to the subject; and all that my companions said led me to believe that I might really expect to see snow on the highest mountains of Ádamáwa. But after all I was mistaken; for they were speaking of clouds. Unfortunately Bíllama had taken another path, so that to-day I had no one to tell me the names of the villages which we passed. Some geographers think this a matter of no consequence—for them it is enough if the position of the chief places be laid down by exact astronomical observation; but to me the general character of a country, the way in which the population is settled, and the nature and character of those settlements themselves, seem to form some of the chief and most useful objects of a journey through a new and unknown country.

Having marched for more than two hours through an uninterrupted scene of agriculture and dense population, we entered a wild tract covered principally with the beautiful large bush of the tsáda, the fruit of which, much like a red cherry, has a pleasant acid taste, and was eaten with great avidity, not only by my companions, but even by myself. But the scene of man’s activity soon again succeeded to this narrow border of wilderness; and a little before we came to the village Túrbe, which was surrounded by open cultivated country, we passed a luxuriant tamarind-tree, in the shade of which a blacksmith[376] had established his simple workshop. The group consisted of three persons, the master heating the iron in the fire; a boy blowing it with a small pair of bellows, or “búbutú,” and a lad fixing a handle in a hatchet. On the ground near them lay a finished spear. Riding up to salute the smith, I asked him whence the iron was procured, and learnt that it was brought from Madégelé, in Búbanjídda. This is considered as the best iron hereabouts; but a very good sort of iron is obtained also in Mándará.

We halted for the hot hours of the day near a village belonging to the district Shámo, which originally formed part of the Marghí country, but has been separated from it and annexed to Bórnu, its former inhabitants having either been led into slavery or converted to Islám—that is to say, taught to repeat a few Arabic phrases, without understanding a word of them. The inhabitants of the village brought us paste of Guinea corn and milk, which, mixed together, make a palatable dish. From this place onward, ngáberi, or holcus, prevails almost exclusively, and argúm móro, or Pennisetum typhoïdeum, becomes rare.

Some native traders, armed with spears and driving before them asses laden with salt, here attached themselves to our troop; for the road further on is so much infested by robbers, that only a large body of men can pass it in safety. The country which we now entered bore but too evident proofs of the unfortunate condition to which it is reduced, forming a thick forest, through which nevertheless, here[377] and there, the traces of former cultivation and the mouldering remains of huts are to be seen. According to Bíllama, as late as a few years ago a large portion of this district was inhabited by Kanúri and Gámerghú, the latter, most probably, having taken possession of the lands abandoned by the Marghí; but ʿAli Déndal, who has ruled it for Abú Bakr, the son of ʿOmár, a youth without intelligence, and only anxious to make the most of his province, has ruined it by his rapacity: he, however, was soon to be ruined himself. There was a small spot where the forest had been cleared away for cultivation,—a proof that the natives, if they were only humanely treated by the government, would not be wanting in exertion.

The forest was partly filled up by a dense jungle of reed-grass, of such a height as to cover horse and rider. The soil is of a black, boggy, argillaceous nature, and full of holes, which make the passage through this tract extremely difficult in the latter part of the rainy season. My companions also drew my attention to the bee-hives underground, from which a peculiar kind of honey is obtained, which I shall repeatedly have occasion to mention in the course of my narrative.

After three hours’ march through this wild and unpleasant country, we reached a small village called Yerímarí, which, according to Bíllama, had formerly been of much greater size; at present it is inhabited by a few Marghí Mohammedan proselytes. There being only one hut in the yard assigned to us, I preferred[378] pitching my tent, thinking that the storm which had threatened us in the afternoon had passed by, as the clouds had gone westwards. However, I soon learned that, in tropical climes, there is no certainty of a storm having passed away, the clouds often returning from the opposite quarter.

We had already retired to rest when the tempest burst upon us with terrible fury, threatening to tear my weak little tent to pieces. Fortunately the top-ropes were well-fastened; and, planting myself against the quarter from whence the wind blew, I succeeded in keeping it upright. The rain came down in torrents; and, though the tent excluded it tolerably well from above, the water rushed in from below and wetted my luggage. But as soon as it fairly begins to rain, a traveller in a tolerable tent is safe; for then the heavy gale ceases. Sitting down upon my camp-stool, I quietly awaited the end of the storm, when I betook myself to the hut, where I found Mʿallem Katúri and Bú-Sʿad comfortably stretched.

Saturday, June 7th.We set out at a tolerably early hour, being all very wet. The rain had been so heavy that the labours of the field could be deferred no longer; and close to the village we saw a couple sowing their little field, the man going on in advance, and making holes in the ground at equal distances with a hoe of about five feet long (the “kíski kúllobe”), while his wife, following him, threw a few grains of seed into each hole. These people certainly had nothing to lose; and in order not to risk their little[379] stock of seed, they had waited till the ground was thoroughly drenched, while some people commit their grain to the ground at the very setting in of the rainy season, and risk the loss of it if the rains should delay too long. After we had passed a small village called Keríkasáma, the forest became very thick; and for a whole hour we followed the immense footprints of an elephant, which had found it convenient to keep along the beaten path, to the great annoyance of succeeding travellers, who had, in consequence, to stumble over the deep holes made by the impression of its feet.

About eleven o’clock we reached the outskirts of Molghoy, having passed, half an hour before, a number of round holes, about four feet wide and five feet deep, made intentionally, just at the spot where the path was hemmed in between a deep fiumara to the left and uneven ground to the right, in order to keep off a sudden hostile attack, particularly of cavalry. Molghoy is the name of a district rather than of a village; as the pagan countries, in general, seem to be inhabited, not in distinct villages and towns, where the dwellings stand closely together, but in single farms and hamlets, or clusters of huts, each of which contains an entire family, spreading over a wide expanse of country, each man’s fields lying close around his dwelling. The fields, however, of Molghoy had a very sad and dismal aspect, although they were shaded and beautifully adorned by numerous karáge-trees. Though the rainy season had long set in, none of these[380] fine fields were sown this year, but still presented the old furrows of former years; and all around was silent and inert, bearing evident signs, if not of desolation, at least of oppression.

I had already dismounted, being a little weak and fatigued after my last sleepless night’s uncomfortable drenching, hoping that we should here pass the heat of the day; but there seemed to be nothing left for us to eat, and after some conversation with a solitary inhabitant, Bíllama informed me that we were to proceed to another village, which likewise belongs to Molghoy. We therefore continued our march, and soon after entered a dense forest, where we had more enjoyment of wild fruits, principally of one called “fóti,” of the size of an apricot, and with three large kernels, the pulp of which was very pleasant. Behind the little hamlet Dalá Dísowa I saw the first specimen of the sacred groves of the Marghí—a dense part of the forest surrounded with a ditch, where, in the most luxuriant and widest-spreading tree, their god “Tumbí” is worshipped.

It was one o’clock in the afternoon when we reached the village where we expected to find quarters. It also is called Molghoy, and is divided into two groups by a water-course or komádugu (as the Kanúri, dílle as the Marghí call it) about twenty-five yards wide, and inclosed by steep banks. My kashélla, deprived of his former irresistible authority, was now reduced to politeness and artifice; and having crossed the channel, which at present retained only a pool of stagnant[381] water, and was richly overgrown with succulent grass, we lay down on its eastern bank in the cool shade of some luxuriant kúrna-trees, the largest trees of this species I have ever seen, where we spread all our luggage, which had been wetted the preceding night, out to dry, while the horses were grazing upon the fresh herbage. In this cool and pleasant spot, which afforded a view over a great part of the village, I breakfasted upon “chébchebé,” a light and palatable Kanúri sweetmeat, and upon “núfu,” or habb’ el azíz, dug up in large quantities almost over the whole of Bórnu.

By and by, as another storm seemed impending, we looked about for quarters, and I with my three servants and Mʿallem Katúri took possession of a small courtyard inclosed with a light fence four feet high composed of mats and thorny bushes, which contained four huts, while a fifth, together with the granary, had fallen in. The huts, however, were rather narrow, encumbered as they were with a great deal of earthenware, besides the large “gébam” or urn, containing the necessary quantity of corn for about a week, and the “bázam” or the water-jar; and the doors—if doors they could be called—were so extremely small, while they were raised about a foot from the ground, that a person not accustomed to the task had the greatest difficulty to creep in. These narrow doors were direct proofs of the great power of the rains in these climes, against which the natives have to protect themselves, as well as the raised and well-plastered[382] floors of the huts, while reed is still the prevalent and almost exclusive material for the whole building. As for my own hut, it had the advantage of a contrivance to render the passage of the opening a little more easy, without diminishing the protection against the inclemency of the weather; for that part of the front of the hut which intervened between the doorway and the floor of the hut was movable, and made to fold up. Each family has its own separate courtyard, which forms a little cluster of huts by itself, and is often a considerable distance from the next yard. This kind of dwelling has certainly something very cheerful and pleasant in a simple and peaceable state of society, while it offers also the great advantage of protecting the villages against wholesale conflagrations, but it is liable to a very great disadvantage in a community which is threatened continually by sudden inroads from relentless enemies and slave-hunters.

The storm luckily passing by, I walked through the village, and visited several courtyards. The inhabitants, who, at least outwardly, have become Mohammedans, go entirely naked, with the exception of a narrow strip of leather, which they pass between the legs and fasten round their waist. But even this very simple and scanty covering they seem to think unnecessary at times. I was struck by the beauty and symmetry of their forms, which were thus entirely exposed to view, and by the regularity of their features, which are not disfigured by incisions, and[383] in some had nothing of what is called the Negro type; but I was still more astonished at their complexion, which was very different in different individuals, being in some of a glossy black, and in others of a light copper, or rather rhubarb colour, the intermediate shades being almost entirely wanting. Although the black shade seemed to prevail, I arrived at the conclusion that the copper colour was the original complexion of the tribe, the black shade being due to intermixture with surrounding nations. But the same variety of shades has been observed in many other tribes, as well on this continent as in Asia.

Being allowed to stray about at my leisure, I observed in one house a really beautiful female in the prime of womanhood, who, with her son, a boy of about eight or nine years of age, formed a most charming group, well worthy of the hand of an accomplished artist. The boy’s form did not yield in any respect to the beautiful symmetry of the most celebrated Grecian statues, as that of the praying boy, or that of the diskophóros. His legs and arms were adorned with strings of iron beads, such as I shall have occasion to describe more distinctly further on, made in Wándalá, which are generally worn by young people; his legs were as straight as possible: his hair, indeed, was very short, and curled, but not woolly. He, as well as his mother and the whole family, were of a pale or yellowish-red complexion, like rhubarb. His mother, who was probably twenty-two years of age, was a little[384] disfigured by a thin pointed metal plate about an inch long, of the figure represented here, which was stuck through her under lip. This kind of barbarous ornament is called in the language of these people “seghéum,” and is very differently shaped, and generally much smaller than that worn by this woman; indeed it is often a mere thin tag. It is possible that its size varies according to the character of the females by whom it is worn. However small it may be, it can hardly be fastened in the lip without being very inconvenient, and even painful, at least at first: at any rate it is less monstrous than the large bone which is worn by the Músgu women in the same way. These simple people were greatly amused when they saw me take so much interest in them; but while they were pleased with my approval, and behaved very decently, they grew frightened when I set about sketching them. This is the misfortune of the traveller in these regions, where everything is new, and where certainly one of the most interesting points attaches to the character of the natives,—that he will very rarely succeed in persuading one of them to stand while he makes an accurate drawing of him. The men are generally tall, and while they are young, rather slender; some of the women also attain a great height, and in that state, with their hanging breasts, form frightful objects in their total nakedness, especially if they be of red colour.

In another courtyard, I saw two unmarried young[385] girls busy at house-work: they were about twelve years of age, and were more decently clad, wearing an apron of striped cotton round their loins; but this was evidently a result of Mohammedanism. These also were of copper colour; and their short curled hair was dyed of the same hue by powdered camwood rubbed into it. They wore only thin tags in their under lips, and strings of red glass beads round their neck. Their features were pleasing, though less handsome than those of the woman above described. They were in ecstasies when I made them some little presents, and did not know how to thank me sufficiently.

I had scarcely returned from my most interesting walk, when the inhabitants of the neighbouring yards, seeing that I was a good-natured sort of man who took great interest in them, and hearing from my people that in some respects I was like themselves, sent me a large pot of their intoxicating beverage, or “komíl,” made of Guinea corn, which, however, I could not enjoy, as it was nothing better than bad muddy beer. Instead of confusing my brains with such a beverage, I sat down and wrote about two hundred words in their own language, which seemed to have no relation to any of the languages with which I had as yet become acquainted, but which, as I found afterwards, is nearly related to, or rather only a dialect of the Batta language, which is spread over a large part of Ádamáwa or Fúmbiná, and has many points of connection with the Músgu language, while in certain general[386] principles it approaches the great South African family. Having received, besides my home-made supper of mohámsa, several bowls of “déffa” or paste of Guinea corn from the natives, I had a long pleasant chat in the evening with the two young girls whom I have mentioned above, and who brought two fowls for sale, but were so particular in their bartering, that the bargain was not concluded for full two hours, when I at length succeeded in buying the precious objects with shells, or kúngona, which have no more currency here than they had since we left Kúkawa, but which these young ladies wanted for adorning their persons. They spoke Kanúri with me, and their own language between themselves and with some other women who joined them after a while. In vain I tried to get a little milk; although the inhabitants in general did not seem to be so badly off, yet they had lost all their horses and cattle by the exactions of the Bórnu officers. Indeed it is really lamentable to see the national wellbeing and humble happiness of these pagan communities trodden down so mercilessly by their Mohammedan neighbours. The tempest which had threatened us the whole afternoon discharged itself in the distance.

Sunday, June 8th.We set out at a tolerably early hour to pass a forest of considerable extent. In the beginning it was rather light, such as the Kanúri call “dírridé,” and at times interrupted by open pasture-ground covered with the freshest herbage, and full of the footprints of elephants of every[387] age and size. Pools of stagnant water were seen in all directions, and flowers filled the air with a delicious fragrance; but the path, being full of holes, and of a miry consistence, became at times extremely difficult, especially for the camels. As for ourselves, we were well off, eating now and then some wild fruit, and either sucking out the pulp of the “tóso,” or devouring the succulent root of the “katakírri.”

The tóso is the fruit of the Bassia Parkii, called kadeña by the Háusa people, and consists almost entirely of a large kernel of the colour and size of a chestnut, which is covered with a thin pulp inside the green peel: this pulp has a very agreeable taste, but is so thin that it is scarcely worth sucking out. The tree in question, which I had lost sight of entirely since I left Háusa, is very common hereabouts; and the people prepare a good deal of butter from the kernel, which is not only esteemed for seasoning their food, but also for the medicinal qualities ascribed to it, and which I shall repeatedly have occasion to mention. As for the katakírri, it is a bulbous root, sometimes of the size of a large English potato, the pulp being not unlike that of the large radish, but softer, more succulent, and also very refreshing and nutritious. The juice has a milky colour. A man may easily travel for a whole day with nothing to eat but this root, which seems to be very common during the rainy season in the woody and moist districts of Central Africa—at least as far as I had occasion to observe. It is not less frequent near[388] the Niger and in Kébbi than it is here; but I never observed it in Bórnu, nor in Bagírmi. It requires but little experience to find out where the bulbous root grows, its indication above ground being a single blade about ten inches high; but it sometimes requires a good deal of labour to dig up the roots, as they are often about a foot or a foot and a half under ground.

The soil gradually became worse; the trees were of a most uniform description, being all mimosas, and all alike of indifferent growth, while only here and there a large leafless Adansonia stretched forth its gigantic arms as if bewailing the desolation spread around, where human beings had formerly subsisted: for the kúka or baobab likes the dwelling of the Negro, and he, on the other hand, can scarcely live without it; for how could he season his simple food without the baobab’s young fresh leaves, or sweeten and flavour his drink without the slightly acid pulp wherein the kernels are imbedded? The herbage was reduced to single tufts of coarse grass four or five feet high; and the path became abominable, not allowing a moment’s inattention or thoughtful abstraction, from fear of being thrown off the next minute into a swampy hole.

Thus we went on cheerlessly, when about eleven o’clock the growth of the trees began to improve, and I observed a tree, which I did not remember to have seen before, of middle size, the foliage rather thin, and of light-green colour; it is called “kamándu”[389] in Kanúri, and “bóshi” in Háusa. The country, however, does not exhibit a single trace of habitation, either of the past or present time; and on our right no village was said to be nearer than Díshik at the distance of half a day’s journey, and even that was reported to be now deserted by its inhabitants. At length the monotonous gloomy forests gave way to scattered clusters of large trees, such as generally indicate the neighbourhood of man’s industry; and we soon after emerged upon beautiful green meadow-lands stretching out to the very foot of the Wándalá mountains, the whole range of which, in its entire length from north to south, lay open to view. It was a charming sight, the beautiful green of the plain against the dark colour of the mountains, and the clear sunny sky; and I afterwards regretted deeply that I had not made a slight sketch of the country from this spot, as near the village the same wide horizon was no longer visible.

It was one o’clock in the afternoon when we reached the first cluster of huts belonging to the village or district of Ísge, or Íssege, which spread to a considerable extent over the plain, while horses and sheep were feeding on the adjacent pastures, and women were cultivating the fields. A first glance at this landscape impressed me with the conviction that I had at length arrived at a seat of the indigenous inhabitants, which, although it had evidently felt the influence of its overbearing and merciless neighbours, had not yet been altogether despoiled by their hands. Vigorous[390] and tall manly figures, girt round the loins with a short leathern apron, and wearing, besides their agricultural tools, the “danísko” (hand-bill), or a spear, were proudly walking about or comfortably squatting together in the shade of some fine tree, and seemed to intimate that this ground belonged to them, and that the foreigner, whoever he might be, ought to act discreetly. As for their dress, however, I almost suspected that, though very scanty, it was put on only for the occasion; for, on arriving at the first cluster of huts, we came abruptly upon a hollow with a pond of water, from which darted forth a very tall and stout bronze-coloured woman, totally naked, with her pitcher upon her head,—not only to my own amazement, but even to that of my horse, which, coming from the civilized country of Bórnu, which is likewise the seat of one of the blackest races in the interior, seemed to be startled by such a sight. However, I have observed that many of those simple tribes deem some sort of covering, however scanty it might be, more essential for the man than the woman.

We first directed our steps towards the western side of the village, where in a denser cluster of huts was the dwelling of the nominal “bíllama,” that is to say, of a man who, betraying his native country, had placed himself under the authority of the Bórnu people, in the hope that, with their assistance, he might gratify his ambition by becoming the tyrant of his compatriots. Here we met Ibrahíma, who with his countrymen had arrived before us. Having obtained[391] from the important bíllama a man who was to assign us quarters, we returned over the wide grassy plain towards the eastern group, while beyond the quarter which we were leaving I observed the sacred grove, of considerable circumference, formed by magnificent trees, mostly of the ficus tribe, and surrounded with an earthen wall.

At length we reached the eastern quarter; but the owners of the courtyards which were selected for our quarters, did not seem at all inclined to receive us. I had cheerfully entered with Bú-Sʿad the courtyard assigned to me, in order to take possession of it, and my servant had already dismounted, when its proprietor rushed furiously in, and, raising his spear in a most threatening attitude, ordered me to leave his house instantly. Acknowledging the justice of his claims to his own hearth, I did not hesitate a moment to obey his mandate; but I had some difficulty in persuading my servant to go away peaceably, as he was more inclined to shoot the man. This dwelling in particular was very neatly arranged; and I was well able to sympathize with the proprietor, who saw that his clean yard was to be made a stable and littered with dirt. The yards contained from five to seven huts, each of different size and arrangement, besides a shed, and gave plain indications of an easy and comfortable domestic life.

Bíllama, that is to say, my guide, who seemed not to have been more fortunate than myself in his endeavour to find a lodging, being rather crest-fallen[392] and dejected, we thought it best to give up all idea of sheltered quarters, and, trusting to our good luck, to encamp outside. We therefore drew back altogether from the inhabited quarter into the open meadow, and dismounted beneath the wide-spreading shade of an immense kúka, or “bokki,” at least eighty feet high, the foliage of which being interwoven with numbers of climbing plants, such as I very rarely observed on this tree, formed a most magnificent canopy. While my tent was being pitched here, a number of natives collected round us, and squatting down in a semicircle eyed all my things very attentively, drawing each other’s attention to objects which excited their curiosity. They were all armed; and as there were from thirty to forty, and hundreds more might have come to their assistance in a moment, their company was not so agreeable as under other circumstances it might have been. The reason, however, why they behaved so inhospitably towards me evidently was, that they took me for an officer of the king of Bórnu: but this impression gave way the longer they observed my manners and things; indeed, as soon as they saw the tent, they became aware that it was not a tent like those of their enemies, and they came to the same conclusion with regard to the greater part of my luggage. In many places in Negroland I observed that the bipartite tentpole was a most wonderful object to the natives, and often served to characterize the Christian. This time, however, we did not come to friendly terms; but the reader[393] will be gratified to see how differently these people treated me on my return from Fúmbiná.

While our party was rather quietly and sullenly sitting near the tent, a number of Fúlbe, who had been staying in this district for some time, came to pay their respects to me. They were a very diminutive set of people, and excepting general traits of resemblance, and language, were unlike those proud fellow countrymen of theirs in the west; but I afterwards found that the Fúlbe in the eastern part of Ádamáwa are generally of this description, while those about the capital have a far more noble and dignified appearance. I think this may be not so much a mark of a difference of tribe, as a consequence of the low circumstances of those settled at a great distance from the seat of government, who, being still engaged in struggling for their subsistence, have not raised themselves from their original condition of humble cattle-breeders, or “berroróji,” to the proud rank of conquerors and religious reformers. Their colour certainly was not the characteristic rhubarb-colour of the Fúta Púllo, nor the deep black of the Toróde, but was a greyish sort of black, approaching what the Frenchmen call the chocolat-au-lait colour, while their small features wanted the expressiveness which those of the light Púllo generally have. They all wore shirts, which however were deficient in that cleanliness which in general is characteristic of this race. These simple visitors might perhaps have proved very interesting companions, if we had been[394] able to understand each other; but as they spoke neither Arabic, nor Háusa, nor Kanúri, while I was but a beginner in their language, our conversation flowed but sluggishly.

I had observed in all the dwellings of the natives a very large species of fish laid to dry on the roofs of the huts; and being not a little astonished at the existence of fish of such a size in this district, where I was not aware that there existed any considerable waters, I took the earliest opportunity of inquiring whence they were brought, and, having learnt that a considerable lake was at no great distance, I intimated to Bíllama my wish to visit it. I therefore mounted on horseback with him in the afternoon, and then passing behind the eastern quarter of Íssege, and crossing a tract covered with excellent herbage, but so full of holes and crevices, that the horses had great difficulty in getting over it, we reached a fine sheet of water of considerable depth, stretching from west to east, and full of large fish. All along the way we were met by natives returning from fishing, with their nets and their spoil. The fish measure generally about twenty inches in length, and seem to be of the same kind as that caught in the Tsád. The banks of the water, except on the west side, where we stood, were so hemmed in with rushes that I could not form a satisfactory estimate of its magnitude or real character; but it seems to be a hollow which is filled by the rivulet or torrent which I surveyed in its upper course the following[395] day, and which seems to pass at a short distance to the east of this lake. The latter, however, is said always to contain water, which, as far as I know, is not the case with the river; but certainly even the lake must become much shallower in the dry season.

A small torrent joins the lake near its south-western corner; and on the bank of this torrent I observed a rounded mass of granite rising to the height of about fifteen feet, this being the only eminence in the whole plain. Though it was not elevated enough to allow me a fair survey of the plain itself, it afforded a splendid and interesting panorama of the mountains.

The whole range of mountains, which forms the western barrier of the little country of Wándalá, lay open before me at the distance of about twenty miles, while behind it, towards the south, mountains of more varied shape, and greater elevation, became visible. It was here that I obtained the first view of Mount Méndefi, or Mindif, which, since it was seen by Major Denham on his adventurous expedition against some of the Felláta settlements to the south of Morá, has become so celebrated in Europe, giving rise to all sorts of conjectures and theories. It might, indeed, even from this point be supposed to be the centre of a considerable mountain mass, surrounded as it is by several other summits of importance, particularly the Mechíka and Umshi, while it is in reality nothing more than a detached cone starting up from a level plain, like the Mount of Mbutúdi on a smaller scale, or that[396] of Tákabéllo, with both of which Ibrahíma used to compare it, or the Alantíka on a larger scale. Its circumference at the base certainly does not exceed probably from ten to twelve miles, as it is partly encompassed by the straggling village of the same name, which seems to stretch out to a considerable length, or rather to be separated into two or three distinct clusters. The place has a market every Friday, which is of some importance.

From my position the top of the mount presented the shape here delineated; and even through the telescope the Mindif, as well as the singular mount of Kamálle, of which I shall soon have to speak, seemed to be of a whitish or greyish colour, which led me to the conclusion that it consisted of a calcareous rock. It was not till a much later period that I learnt, from a native of the village of Mindif, that the stone was originally quite black, not only on the surface, but all through, and extremely hard, and that the white colour is merely due to immense numbers of birds, which habitually frequent it, being nothing else than guáno. I think, therefore, that this[397] mount will eventually prove to be a basaltic cone, an ancient volcano—a character which seems to be indicated by the double horn of its summit. Its height scarcely exceeds five thousand feet above the surface of the sea, or less than four thousand feet above the plain from which it rises.

But while my attention was engaged by this mountain, on account of its having been so much talked of in Europe, another height attracted my notice much more, on account of its peculiar shape. This was Mount Kamálle, which just became visible behind the continuous mountain-chain in the foreground, like a columnar pile rising from a steep cone, it likewise seemed of a greyish colour. Between this remarkable peak and Mount Mindif several cones were descried from a greater distance, while west from the latter mountain the elevated region seemed to cease.

The highest elevation of the Wándalá range, which is called Magár, I estimated at about three thousand feet, while the chain in general did not rise more than two thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea, or about one thousand five hundred feet above the plain. This part of the mountain-chain forms the natural stronghold of a pagan king whom my Kanúri companion constantly called “Mai Sugúr,”[101] but whose proper name, or title, seems to be “Lá.”

[398]Overjoyed at having at length reached the region of the famous Mindif, and full of plans for the future, I remounted my horse. While returning to our encampment, my companion, who was altogether a sociable and agreeable sort of person, gave me some more information with regard to the Marghí, whom he represented as a numerous tribe, stronger even at the present time than the Manga, and capable of sending thirty thousand armed men into the field. He told me that it was their peculiar custom to mourn for the death of a young man, and[399] to make merry at the death of an old one—an account which I found afterwards confirmed, while his statement that they buried the dead in an upright position together with their weapons, furniture, and some paste of Indian corn, did not prove quite correct. In many respects they claim great superiority over their neighbours; and they practise even to a great extent inoculation for smallpox, which in Bórnu is rather the exception than the rule.

Fortunately for us in our out-of-doors encampment, the sky remained serene; and while, after a very frugal supper, we were reclining on our mats in the cool air of the evening, an interesting and animated dispute arose between Bíllama, Mʿallem Katúri, and Mohámmedu—the Ádamáwa messenger whom I have represented above as a very communicative, sociable person—about the water of Íssege, whence it came, and whither it flowed. Mohámmedu, who notwithstanding his intelligence and sprightliness was not free from absurd prejudices, contended, with the utmost pertinacity, that the water in question issued from the river Bénuwé at Kobére and ran into the Sháry, a river with which he was acquainted only by hearsay. But my prudent and experienced old mʿallem contested this point successfully, demonstrating that the river rose in the mountains far to the north of the Bénuwé. Thus we spent the evening quite cheerfully; and the night passed without any accident,[400] all the people sleeping in a close circle round my tent.

Monday, June 9th.At an early hour we set out on our journey, being joined by several of the Fúlbe, who had come the day before to salute me, while only one of our caravan remained behind, namely, the horseman of Malá Ibrám. This whole district had formerly belonged to the last-named person; but he had lately ceded it to Abú-Bakr, the son of Sheikh ʿOmár: but we have seen what a precarious possession it was. The country through which we passed was varied and fertile, although the sky was overcast; and I was struck with the frequency of the poisonous euphorbia, called “karúgu” by the Kanúri. Further on, the crop stood already a foot high, and formed a most pleasant object. We then entered a dense forest, where the danger became considerable, an evident proof of the lawless state of this country being seen in the village Yésa, which was in some degree subject (“imána,” as the people call it, with an Arabic name) to the sheikh ʿOmár, but had been ransacked and burnt about forty days previously by the tribe of the Gulúk. It was the first village on this road the huts of which were entirely of the construction called by the Kanúri “bóngo.”

Having stopped here a few minutes to allow the people to recruit themselves, we pushed on with speed, and soon passed the site of another village, which had been destroyed at an earlier period, having close on our left a fertile plain in a wild state, over which[401] the mountain chain was still visible, with a glance now and then at the Mindif and Kamálle. Suddenly there was visible on this side a river from thirty to forty yards broad, and inclosed by banks about twelve feet high, with a considerable body of water, flowing through the fine but desolate plain in a northerly direction, but with a very winding course and a moderate current; and it henceforth continued on our side,—sometimes approaching, at others receding, and affording an agreeable cool draught, instead of the unwholesome stagnant water from the pools, impregnated with vegetable matter, and very often full of worms, and forming certainly one of the chief causes of disease to the foreign traveller. In this part of the forest the karáge was the most common tree, while besides it there was a considerable variety,—the tóso or kadeña, the koráwa, the kabúwi, the zíndi, and the acacia-like paipáya; the fruit of the tóso, or rather its thin pulp, and the beautiful cream-fruit of the gonda-bush (Annona palustris?) remaining our favourite dainties.

Suddenly the spirit of our little troop was roused; some naked pagans were discovered in the bushes near the stream, and so long as it was uncertain whether or not they were accompanied by a greater number, my companions were in a state of fright; but as soon as it was ascertained that the black strangers were but few, they wanted to rush upon and capture them as slaves; but Ibrahíma, with a dignified air, cried out, “imána, imána,” intimating that the[402] tribe was paying tribute to his master the governor of Yóla; and whether it was true or not, certainly he did well to keep these vagabonds from preying upon other people while their own safety was in danger.

At a quarter past eleven o’clock we reached the outskirts of Kófa, a village, which had been ransacked and destroyed entirely by Kashélla ʿAli,—the very act which had given rise to the complaints on the side of the governor of Ádamáwa, who claimed the supremacy over this place. Several huts had been already built up again very neatly of bongo; for this had now become the general mode of architecture, giving proof of our advancing into the heart of the tropical climes. And as the dwellings were again rising, so the inhabitants were likewise returning to their hearths.

A most interesting and cheerful incident in these unfortunate and distracted lands, where the traveller has every day to observe domestic happiness trodden under foot, children torn from the breasts of their mothers, and wives from the embraces of their husbands, was here exhibited before us. Among the people recovered from slavery by Ibrahíma’s exertions was a young girl, a native of this village, who, as soon as she recognised the place from which she had been torn, began to run as if bewildered, making the circuit of all the huts. But the people were not all so fortunate as to see again those whom they had lost; there were many sorrowful countenances among those who inquired in vain for their sons or daughters. However, I was pleased to find that Bíllama was saluted[403] in a friendly way by the few inhabitants of the place, proving, as I thought, that, when governor of this southernmost district of Bórnu, he had not behaved so cruelly.

The country hereabouts showed a far more advanced state of vegetation than that from whence we had come, the young succulent grass reaching to the height of a foot and a half, while the corn (dáwa, or holcus) in one field measured already thirty inches in height. The fresh meadow grounds were interspersed with flowers; and a beautiful specimen of the “kangel,” measuring eight inches in diameter, was brought to me by Bíllama, being the only specimen which I have ever observed of this peculiar flower. Mr. Vogel, however, told me afterwards that he had occasionally observed it in Mándará (Wándalá).

Having dismounted under a tamarind-tree for the hot hours of the day, Bíllama, with the assistance of my old Mʿallem, gave me a list of some of the larger places in the Marghí country.[102] W.S.W. from the Marghí live[404] the Bábur or Bábir, scattered in small hamlets over a mountainous basaltic district, with the exception of their principal seat Biyú[103], which is called after the name, or probably rather the title, of their chief. This place is said to be as far from Kófa as Kúkawa is from the same place, and is reported to be of large size. The Bábur have in certain respects preserved their independence, while in others, like the Marghí, they have begun to yield to the overwhelming influence of their Mohammedan neighbours. But the Marghí claim superiority over their kinsmen in point of personal courage; for of their relationship there can be no doubt.

When the sun began to decline, we pursued our march, in order to reach Laháula, where we were to pass the night. The unsafe state of the country through which we were passing was well indicated by the circumstance that even the circumspect Ibrahíma mounted the poor mare given to him by Sheikh ʿOmár, which he had spared till now. He moreover exchanged his bow for a spear. A thick tempest was[405] gathering on the Wándalá mountains, while our motley troop wound along the narrow path,—at times through forest or underwood, at others through fine cornfields; but the country afforded a wilder and more varied aspect after we had crossed a little watercourse,—rocks projecting on all sides, sandstone and granite being intermixed, while in front of us a little rocky ridge, thickly overgrown with trees and bushes, stretched out, and seemed to hem in our passage. Suddenly, however, a deep recess was seen opening in the ridge, and a village appeared, lying most picturesquely in the natural amphitheatre thus formed by the rocks and trees protruding everywhere from among the granite blocks, and giving a pleasant variety to the whole picture.

This was Laháula; but we had some difficulty in getting into it, the entrance to the amphitheatre being closed by a strong stockade, which left only a very narrow passage along the cliffs on the eastern side, not nearly large enough for camels; and while our troop, pushing forward in vain, fell into great confusion, the storm came on, and the rain poured down upon us in torrents. Fortunately, the shower, although heavy, did not last long, and we succeeded at length in getting in, and soon reached the first huts of the village; but our reception was not propitious. The first person who came to meet us was a mother, roused by the hope of seeing her son return as a free man from Kúkawa, where he had been carried into[406] slavery, and filling the whole village with her lamentations and curses of the Kanúri, when she heard that her beloved had not come back, and that she should never see him again. This of course made a bad impression upon the inhabitants, and while ʿAshi, their chief, a man who after an unsuccessful struggle with my companion Bíllama, when governor of these districts, had submitted to the sheikh, received us with kindness and benevolence, his son, in whose recently and neatly built hut the old man wished to lodge me, raised a frightful alarm, and at length, snatching up his weapon, ran off with the wildest threats. I therefore thought it best not to make use of the hut unless forced by another storm, and notwithstanding the humidity, I took up my quarters under a shed before the hut, spreading my carpet and jirbíye—woollen blanket from Jirbi—over a coarse mat of reed, as unfortunately at that time I had no sort of couch with me.

There was an object of very great interest in our courtyard. It was a large pole about nine feet high above the ground, with a small cross pole which sustained an earthern pot of middling size. This was a “sáfi,” a sort of fetish, a symbolic representation, as it seems, of their god “féte,” the sun. It was a pity that we were not placed in a more comfortable position, so as to be enabled to make further inquiries with regard to this subject.

ʿAshi was kind enough to send me a large bowl of honey-water, but I was the only one of the caravan[407] who received the least proof of hospitality; and I made myself quite comfortable, though we thought it best to look well after our firearms. During the night we were alarmed by a great noise, proceeding from the frightful shrieks of a man; and, on inquiry, we found that he had been disturbed in his sleep by a hyæna catching hold of one of his legs. Ibrahíma informed us the next morning, that a very large party among the inhabitants had entertained the design of falling during the night upon our troop and plundering us; and that nothing but the earnest representations of ʿAshi had restrained them from carrying out their intention,—the old man showing them how imprudent it would be, by one and the same act to draw upon themselves the vengeance of their two overwhelming neighbours, the sheikh of Bórnu in the north, and the governor of Fúmbiná in the south. Altogether the night was not very tranquil; and a storm breaking out at some distance, I crept into the hut, but there was no rain, only thunder and lightning. All the huts here are provided with a serír, or diggel, made of branches, upon which a coarse mat of reeds is spread.

The village seems not to be very large, containing certainly not more than about five hundred single huts, but the situation is very advantageous, enabling the inhabitants in an instant to retire upon the natural fortress of blocks overhead. They possess scarcely a single cow, but seem to prepare a great deal of vegetable[408] butter. At least large heaps of the chestnut-like kernels of the Bassia Parkii were lying about in the courtyards. They have also a great deal of excellent honey.

Tuesday, June 10th.Leaving our quarters early, and emerging from the rocky recess by the same opening through which we had entered it the preceding evening, we halted a short time in order that the whole caravan might form closely together, for we had now the most dangerous day’s march before us, where stragglers are generally slain or carried into slavery by lurking enemies. Our whole troop was not very numerous, consisting of five horsemen and about twenty-five armed men on foot, with three camels, six sumpter oxen, and three asses, our strength consisting entirely in my four muskets and four pairs of pistols.

It was a very fine morning, and after the last night’s storm the whole country teemed with freshness and life. Moreover, it was of a varied nature, the ground consisting, at times, of bare granite, with large blocks of quartz, at others covered with black vegetable soil, with ironstone here and there, and torn by numerous small periodical watercourses descending from the rocky chain on our right, and carrying the moisture of the whole region towards the river, which still flowed on the left of our track; while granite-blocks and small ridges projected everywhere, the whole clothed with forest more or less dense, and with a great variety of foliage. Having kept on through this kind[409] of country for about two miles and a half, we reached the deserted “ngáufate,” or encampment of Bú-Bakr, a brother of Mohammed Lowel, the governor of Ádamáwa, who had last year made an expedition into these districts, and stationing his army on this spot, had overrun the country in all directions. The encampment consisted of small round huts made of branches and grass, such as the guro caravan generally erects daily on its “zango” or halting-place. Here we began to quicken our pace, as we were now at the shortest distance from the seats of the Báza, a powerful and independent pagan tribe, with a language, or probably dialect, of their own, and peculiar customs, who live at the foot of the eastern mountain-chain, while we left on our right Kibák and some other Marghí villages. In order to lessen a little the fatigue of the march, my attentive companion Bíllama brought me a handful of “gaude,” a yellow fruit of the size of an apricot, with a very thick peel, and, instead of a rich pulp, five large kernels filling almost the whole interior, but covered with a thin pulp of a very agreeable taste, something like the gonda.

At half-past nine, when the forest was tolerably clear, we obtained a view of a saddle mount at some distance on our right, on the other side of which, as I was informed, the village Womde is situated: further westward lies Úgu, and, at a still greater distance, Gáya. Meanwhile we pushed on with such haste—the old Mʿallem and Bú-Sʿad, on horseback, driving my two weak camels before them as fast as they could—[410]that the line of our troop became entirely broken; the fatáki, or tugúrchi, with their pack-oxen, and several of the dangarúnfu—namely the little tradesmen who carry their small parcels of merchandise on the head—remaining a great distance behind; but although I wished several times to halt, I could not persuade my companions to do so; and all that I was able to do for the safety of the poor people who had trusted themselves to my protection, was to send Bíllama to the rear with orders to bring up the stragglers. I shall never forget the euphonious words of the old mʿallem with which he, though usually so humane, parried my entreaties to give the people time to come up; mixing Háusa with Kanúri, he kept exclaiming, “awennan karága babu dádi” (“This is by no means a pleasant forest”), while he continued beating my poor camels with his large shield of antelope’s hide. At length, having entered a very dense thicket, where there was a pond of water, we halted for a quarter of an hour, when Bíllama came up with the rear, bringing me, at the same time, a splendid little gonda fruit, which he knew I was particularly fond of.

Continuing then our march with our wonted expedition, we reached a little before one o’clock cultivated fields, where the slaves—“field-hands,” as an American would say—of the people of Úba were just resting from their labour in the shade of the trees. As the slaves of Mohammedans, they all wore the leathern apron. Here we began to ascend, having a[411] small rocky eminence on our right, and a more considerable one on our left, while in the distance, to the west, various mountain groups became visible. This line of elevation might seem to form the water partition between the basin of the Tsád and that of the Great River of Western Africa, but I am not sure of it, as I did not become distinctly aware of the relation of the rivulet of Múbi to that of Báza.

Be this as it may, this point of the route probably attains an elevation of about 2,000 feet, supposing that we had ascended about 800 feet from Ujé, the elevation of which is 1,200 feet above the level of the sea. Having then crossed, with some difficulty, on the part of the camels, a rugged defile, enclosed by large granite blocks, we began to descend considerably, while Mohámmedu drew my attention to the tree called “bijáge” in Fulfúlde, which grows between the granite blocks, and from which the people of Fúmbiná prepare the poison for their arrows. However I was not near enough to give even the most general account of it; it seemed to be a bush of from ten to twelve feet in height, with tolerably large leaves of an olive colour.

Emerging from this rocky passage, we began gradually to overlook the large valley stretching out to the foot of the opposite mountain chain, which seemed from this place to be uninterrupted. Its general elevation appeared to be about 800 feet above the bottom of the valley. We then again entered upon cultivated ground, and turning round the spur[412] of the rocky chain on our right, on the top of which we observed the huts of the pagans, we reached the wall of Úba at two o’clock in the afternoon.

The eastern quarter of this town, the northernmost Púllo settlement in Ádamáwa on this side, consisting of a few huts scattered over a wide space, has quite the character of a new and cheerless colony in Algeria; the earthen wall is low, and strengthened with a light double fence of thorn bushes. The western quarter, however, is more thickly and comfortably inhabited; and each cluster of huts, which all consist of bongo, or rather búkka bongo, “jwarubokáru,” is surrounded with a little cornfield. It was pleasant to observe how the fences of mats, surrounding the yards, had been strengthened and enlivened by young living trees of a graceful slender appearance, instead of dull stalks, giving to the whole a much more cheerful character than is generally the case with the villages in other parts of Negroland, particularly in Bórnu Proper, and promising in a short time to afford some cool shade, which is rather wanting in the place.[104]

Passing the mosque, the “judírde,” a spacious quadrangular building, consisting entirely of halls built of mats and stalks, which must be delightfully cool in the dry season, but extremely damp during the rains, and including a large open space, we reached the lamórde (the house of the governor, or lámido); it lies[413] on one side of a small square, or “belbel.” Bíllama and Bú-Sʿad having here fired a couple of rounds, we were soon shown into our quarters. These were of rather an indifferent description, but lying at the northern border of the inhabited quarter, and not far from the foot of the rocky ridge, they had the advantage of allowing us freedom of movement.

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[414]CHAP. XXXIV.

ÁDAMÁWA. MOHAMMEDAN SETTLEMENTS IN THE HEART OF CENTRAL-AFRICA.

We had now reached the border of Ádamáwa, the country after which I had been panting so long, and of which I had heard so many interesting accounts, a Mohammedan kingdom engrafted upon a mixed stock of pagan tribes,—the conquest of the valorous and fanatic Púllo chieftain, Ádama, over the great pagan kingdom of Fúmbiná.

I was musing over the fate of the native races of this country, when the governor, with a numerous suite, came to pay me a visit. Neither he nor any of his companions were dressed with any degree of elegance, or even cleanliness. I had endeavoured in vain to obtain information from my companions as to the period when the Fúlbe had begun to emigrate into this country; but they were unable to give me any other answer, than that they had been settled in the country from very ancient times, and that not only the fathers but even the grandfathers of the present generation had inhabited the same region as cattle-breeders, “berroróji.” Neither the governor nor any of his people were able to give me more precise information,[415] so that I was obliged to set my hopes upon the capital, where I was more likely to find a man versed in the history of his tribe. I then communicated to my visitor my wish to ascend the ridge, which overlooks the place, and on the top of which, according to Mohámmedu, a spring bubbled up between the rocks. The governor advised me to defer the excursion till the morrow, but as the weather was fine at the time, and as at this season it was very doubtful whether it would be so the next morning, I expressed a wish to obtain at once a view at least over the opposite mountain-chain. He then told me that I might do as I liked, and followed me with his whole suite. The ridge, on this side at least, consisted entirely of enormous blocks of granite heaped one upon the other in wild confusion, and making the ascent extremely difficult, nay, impossible, without ropes, so that, with the utmost trouble, we reached the height of a little more than a hundred feet, which gave me, however, an advantageous position for obtaining a view over the broad valley and the mountain range beyond, of which, on my return journey, I made a sketch, which is represented in the following woodcut.

Some of the governor’s people, however, were very agile in climbing these blocks, and they need to be so if they wish to subject the native inhabitants, who, when pursued, retire to these natural strongholds, which are scattered over nearly the whole of this country.

[416]

[417]We had scarcely returned to our quarters, when a storm broke out, but it was not accompanied with a great quantity of rain. Our cheer was indifferent; and we passed our evening in rather a dull manner.

Wednesday, June 11th.Seeing that the weather was gloomy, and being afraid of the fatigue connected with the ascent of the ridge even along a more easy path, as I was well aware how much my constitution had been weakened, I preferred going on, and gave orders for starting. On leaving the western gate of the town, which is formed of very large trunks of trees, we entered on a tract of corn-fields in a very promising condition, while at the same time a number of young jet black slave girls, well fed, and all neatly dressed in long aprons of white clean gábagá, and having their necks adorned with strings of glass beads, were marched out to their daily labour in the field.

The town formerly extended much further in this direction, till it was ransacked and plundered by Ramadhán, a slave and officer of the sheikh Mohammed el Kánemi. Before the Fúlbe occupied these regions, the slave-hunting expeditions of the people of Bórnu often extended into the very heart of Ádamáwa. The Fúlbe certainly are always making steps towards subjugating the country, but they have still a great deal to do before they can regard themselves as the undisturbed possessors of the soil. Even here, at no great distance beyond the little range which we had on our right, an independent tribe called Gílle still maintains itself, and on my return journey I shall have[418] to relate an unsuccessful expedition of the governor of Úba against the Kilba-gáya.

Our camels, “gelóba,” began now to be objects of the greatest curiosity and wonder to the natives; for it happens but rarely that this animal is brought into the country, as it will not bear the climate for any length of time. This is certainly a circumstance not to be lost sight of by those who contemplate trade and intercourse with the equatorial regions; but of course the European, with his energy and enterprise, might easily succeed in acclimatizing the camel by preparing himself for great losses in the beginning.

When the range on our right terminated, our view extended over a great expanse of country, from which several mountain groups started up, entirely detached one from the other and without any connecting chain, and I sketched three of them, which are here represented. Of the names of the first two, my companions were not quite sure; but they all agreed in calling the last Kilba-Gáya. In front of us a considerable mountain mass called Fingting developed itself, and behind it another with the summits Bá and Yaurogúdde. Keeping along the plain, sometimes over fine pasture-grounds,[419] at other times over cultivated fields, and crossing several little streams, we at length came to a brook or rivulet of a somewhat larger size, which is said to issue from mount Gúri, towards the south-east, and receiving another brook coming from mount Dáwa, runs westward.[105]

Having here considered whether we should go on or take up our quarters in Múbi, which was close by, we decided upon the latter, and entered the place. But we had to wait a long while in front of the[420] governor’s house, and were at length conducted into quarters so insufficient that we preferred encamping outside the town, and pitched our tent near a tree, which promised to afford us a shady place during the hot hours of the day. But we had scarcely made ourselves comfortable when the governor’s servants came and requested me most urgently to come into the town, promising us good lodgings; I therefore gave way, and told them that I would go to my promised quarters towards night. As long as the weather was dry, the open air was much more agreeable; and I turned our open encampment to account by taking accurate angles of all the summits around; but a storm in my small and weak tent was a very uncomfortable thing, and I gladly accepted the offer of good quarters for the night.

In the course of the afternoon almost the whole population of the town came out to see me and my camels, and the governor himself came on horseback, inviting me into his own house, when I showed him my chronometer, compass, and telescope, which created immense excitement, but still greater was the astonishment of those particularly who knew how to read, at the very small print in my prayer-book. The amiable side of the character of the Fúlbe is their intelligence and vivacity, but they have a great natural disposition to malice, and are not by any means so good-natured as the real Blacks; for they really are—certainly more in their character[421] than in their colour—a distinct race between the Arab and Berber on the one side and the Negro stock on the other, although I would not suppose that the ancients had taken their prototype of Leucaethiopes from them. However striking may be the linguistic indications of a connection of this tribe with the Kaffers of South Africa, there can be no doubt that historically they have proceeded from the west towards the east. But of this more on another occasion.

I staid out till the sun went down, and before leaving my open dwelling sketched the long range of mountains to the east, together with the Fingting.

Between mount Meshíla and mount Kírya a road leads to the seats of the Komá.

The whole plain affords excellent pasture, and the town itself is a straggling place of great extent. That part of the governor’s house which he assigned to me consisted of a courtyard with a very spacious and cool hut, having two doors or openings,[422] and the ground-floor was strewn with pebbles instead of sand, which seems to be the custom here throughout the rainy season. My host spent a great part of the evening in our company. I made him a present of ten sheets of paper, which, as a learned man in a retired spot who had never before seen so much writing material together, caused him a great deal of delight, though he seemed to be of a sullen temper. He informed me that the Fúlbe settled here belonged to the tribe of the Híllega.

Thursday, June 12th.Although the weather was very gloomy, we set out in the morning through the rich grassy plain, which only round the settlements was laid out in cultivated fields; we crossed and re-crossed the river of the day before, which keeps meandering through the plain. When we reached the village Bagma, which was cheerfully enlivened by a numerous herd of cattle, I was struck with the size and shape of the huts, which testified to the difference of the climate which we had entered, not less than to the mode of living of the inhabitants. Some of these huts were from forty to sixty feet long, about fifteen broad, and from ten to twelve high, narrowing above to a ridge, and thatched all over, no distinction being made between roof and wall; others had a very peculiar shape, consisting of three semicircles.

The reason for making the huts so spacious is the necessity of sheltering the cattle, particularly young cattle, against the inclemency of the weather. Some of them were nothing better than stables, while[423] others combined this distinction with that of a dwelling-house for the owner. The village is separated into two quarters by the river, and is inhabited entirely by Mohammedans. The news of a marvellous novelty soon stirred up the whole village, and young and old, male and female, all gathered round our motley troop, and thronged about us in innocent mirth, and as we proceeded the people came running from the distant fields to see the wonder; but the wonder was not myself, but the camel, an animal which many of them had never seen, fifteen years having elapsed since one had passed along this road. The chorus of shrill voices, “gelóba, gelóba,” was led by two young wanton Púllo girls, slender as antelopes, and wearing nothing but a light apron of striped cotton round their loins, who, jumping about and laughing at the stupidity of these enormous animals, accompanied us for about two miles along the fertile plain. We passed a herd of about three hundred cattle. Gradually the country became covered with forest, with the exception of patches of cultivated ground, and we entered between those mountains which had been during the whole morning in front of us; here also granite prevailed, and all the mountains were covered with underwood.

About nine o’clock the path divided, and my companions for a long time were at a loss to decide which of the two they should follow; Bíllama having some objection to pass the night in Mbutúdi, which he thought was only inhabited by pagans, and preferring[424] Múglebú, where he had acquaintances; but at length the people of Ádamáwa carried their point, and we chose the westernmost road, which passes by Mbutúdi. The wilderness now gave way to open pastures, and we passed some corn-fields when we came to the farm of a wealthy Púllo named Alkáso, who in the midst of a numerous family was leading here the life of a patriarch. Hearing that a stranger from a far distant country was passing by, the venerable old man came out of his village to salute me, accompanied by his sons, and two of the latter, who had evidently no idea of the heresy of the Christian religion, ran a long distance by the side of my horse, and did not turn back till I had given them my blessing. Pleasant as was their innocent behaviour, showing a spirit full of confidence, I was rather glad when they were gone, as I wished to take some angles of the mountains which appeared scattered through the wild and gloomy plain on our right.

After a while the low chain of hills on our left was succeeded by a range of higher mountains attached to the broad cone of the Fáka. A little before we had obtained a view of the rocky mount of Mbutúdi, and we now observed the first gigiña (“dugbi” in Fulfúlde), or deléb-palm, the kind of Hyphæna which I have already occasionally mentioned as occurring in other localities, but which distinguishes this place in a most characteristic way. The ground was covered with rich herbage, from which numerous violets peeped forth.

[425]We had now reached Mbutúdi, a village situated round a granite mount of about six hundred yards’ circumference, and rising to the height of about three hundred feet. It had been a considerable place before the rise of the Fúlbe, encompassing on all sides the mount, which had served as a natural citadel; but it has been greatly reduced, scarcely more than one hundred huts altogether now remaining; and were it not for the picturesque landscape—the steep rocky mount overgrown with trees, and the slender deléb-palms shooting up here and there, and forming some denser groups on the south-east side,—it would be a most miserable place.

My companions were greatly astonished to find that, since they went to Kúkawa, some Fúlbe families had settled here: for formerly none but native pagans lived in the village. It was, therefore, necessary that we should address ourselves to this ruling class; and after we had waited some time in the shade of some caoutchouc-trees, a tall, extremely slender Púllo, of a very noble expression of countenance, and dressed in a snow-white shirt, made his appearance, and after the usual exchange of compliments, and due inquiry on the part of my companions after horse, cattle, mother, slaves, and family[106], conducted[426] us to a dwelling not far from the eastern foot of the rock, consisting of several small huts, with a tall gigiña in the middle of its courtyard, which was never deserted by some large birds of the stork family,—most probably some European wanderers. However, it had the great disadvantage of being extremely wet, so that I preferred staying outside; and going to some distance from the huts, I laid myself down in the shade of a tree, where the ground was comparatively dry. The weather had been very cool and cheerless in the morning, and I was glad when the sun at length came forth, increasing the interest of the landscape, of which the accompanying view may give a slight idea.[107]

I here tried, for the first time, the fruit of the deléb-palm, which was just ripe; but I did not find it worth the trouble, as it really requires a good deal of effort to suck out the pulp, which is nothing but[427] a very close and coarse fibrous tissue, not separating from the large stone, and having a mawkish taste, which soon grows disagreeable. It cannot be at all compared with the banana, and still less with the fruit of the gonda-tree. It is, when full-grown, from six to eight inches long and four inches across, and of a yellowish brown colour; the kernel is about two inches and a half long and one inch thick. However, it is of importance to the natives, and, like the fruit of the dúm-palm, it yields a good seasoning for some of their simple dishes. They make use of the stone also, breaking and planting it in the ground, when, in a few days, a blade shoots forth with a very tender root, which is eaten just like the kelingoes; this is called “múrrechi” by the Háusa people, “báchul” by the Fúlbe, both of whom use it very extensively. But it is to be remarked that the gigiña, or deléb-palm, is extremely partial in its local distribution, and seems not at all common in Ádamáwa, being, as my companions observed, here confined to a few localities, such as Láro and Song; while in the Músgu country it is, according to my own observation, the predominant tree; and, from information, I conclude this to be the case also in the southern provinces of Bagírmi, particularly in Sómray and Day. However, the immense extension of this palm, which, probably, is nearly related to the Borassus flabelliformis[108], through the whole breadth[428] of Central Africa, from Kordofán to the Atlantic, is of the highest importance.

While resting here I received a deputation of the heads of families of the Fúlbe, who behaved very decently, and were not a little excited by the performances of my watch and compass. I then determined to ascend the rock, which commands and characterises the village, although, being fully aware of the debilitated state of my health, I was somewhat afraid of any great bodily exertion. It was certainly not an easy task, as the crags were extremely steep, but it was well worth the trouble, although the view over an immense expanse of country was greatly interrupted by the many small trees and bushes which are shooting out between the granite blocks.

After I had finished taking angles I sat down on this magnificent rocky throne, and several of the natives having followed me, I wrote from their dictation a short vocabulary of their language, which they call “Záni,” and which I soon found was intimately related to that of the Marghí. These poor creatures, seeing, probably for the first time, that a stranger took real interest in them, were extremely delighted in hearing their words pronounced by one whom they thought almost as much above them as their god “féte,” and frequently corrected each other when there was a doubt about the meaning of the word. The rock became continually more and more animated, and it was not long before two young Fúlbe[429] girls also, who from the first had cast a kindly eye upon me, came jumping up to me, accompanied by an elder married sister. One of these girls was about fifteen, the other about eight or nine years of age. They were decently dressed as Mohammedans, in shirts covering the bosom, while the pagans, although they had dressed for the occasion, wore nothing but a narrow strip of leather passed between the legs, and fastened round the loins, with a large leaf attached to it from behind; the women were, besides, ornamented with the “kadáma,” which is the same as the seghéum of the Marghí, and worn in the same way, stuck through the under-lip, but a little larger. Their prevailing complexion was a yellowish red, like that of the Marghí, with whom, a few centuries ago, they evidently formed one nation. Their worship, also, is nearly the same.

At length I left my elevated situation, and with a good deal of trouble succeeded in getting down again; but the tranquillity which I had before enjoyed was now gone, and not a moment was I left alone. All these poor creatures wanted to have my blessing; and there was particularly an old blacksmith, who, although he had become a proselyte to Islám, pestered me extremely with his entreaties to benefit him by word and prayer. They went so far as to do me the honour, which I of course declined, of identifying me with their god “féte,” who, they thought, might have come to spend a day with them, to make them forget their oppression and misfortunes. The pagans, however,[430] at length left me when night came on, but the Fúlbe girls would not go, or if they left me for a moment, immediately returned, and so staid till midnight. The eldest of the unmarried girls made me a direct proposal of marriage, and I consoled her by stating, that I should have been happy to accept her offer if it were my intention to reside in the country. The manners of people who live in these retired spots, shut out from the rest of the world, are necessarily very simple and unaffected; and this poor girl had certainly reason to look out for a husband, as at fifteen she was as far beyond her first bloom as a lady of twenty-five in Europe.

Friday, June 13th.Taking leave of these good people, the girl looking rather sorrowful, as I mounted my horse, we resumed our march the following morning, first through cornfields,—the grain here cultivated being exclusively géro, or pennisetum,—then over rich and thinly wooded pastures, having the mountain-chain of the “Fálibé” constantly at some distance. The atmosphere was extremely humid, and rain-clouds hung upon the mountains. Further on the ground consisted entirely of red loam, and was so torn up by the rain, that we had great difficulty and delay in leading the camels round the gaps and ravines. Dense underwood now at times prevailed, and a bush called “baubaw,” producing an edible fruit, here first fell under my observation; there was also another bulbous plant, which I had not observed before. The karáge here, again, was very common.[431] Gradually the whole country became one continuous wilderness, with the surface greatly undulating, and almost hilly; and here we passed a slave village, or “rúmde,” in ruins, the clay-walls being all that remained.

The country wore a more cheerful appearance after nine o’clock, when we entered on a wide extent of cultivated ground, the crops standing beautifully in the fields, and the village or villages of Segéro appearing higher up on the slope of the heights, in a commanding situation. Segéro consists of two villages separated by a ravine, or hollow with a watercourse, the northernmost of them, to which we came first, being inhabited jointly by the conquering tribe of the Fúlbe and the conquered one of the Holma, while the southern village is exclusively occupied by the ruling race. To this group we directed our steps, passing close by the former, where I made a hasty sketch of the outlines of mount Holma.

The lámido, or mayor, being absent at the time, we dismounted under the public shade in front of his house, till a comfortable spacious shed in the inner courtyard of his dwelling was placed at my disposal; and here I began immediately to employ my leisure[432] hours in the study of the Fulfúlde, as I became fully aware that the knowledge of this language was essential to my plans, if I wished to draw all possible advantage from my proceedings. For these simple people, who do not travel, but reside all their life long in their secluded homes, with the exception of a few predatory expeditions against the pagans, know no other language than their own; several of them, however, understand the written Arabic tolerably well, but are unable to speak it. Meanwhile, a large basket full of groundnuts, in the double shell, just as they came from the ground, was placed before us; and after a while, three immense calabashes of a thick soup, or porridge, made of the same material, were brought in for the refreshment of our whole troop.

Groundnuts form here a very large proportion of the food of the people, just in the same proportion as potatoes do in Europe, and the crops of corn having failed the last year, the people had very little besides. Groundnuts, that is to say, the species of them which is called “kolche” in Kanúri, and “biríji” in Fulfúlde, which was the one grown here, as it seems, exclusively, I like very much, especially if roasted, for nibbling after supper, or even as a substitute for breakfast on the road, but I should not like to subsist upon them. In fact, I was scarcely able to swallow a few spoonfuls of this sort of porridge, which was not seasoned with honey: but I must confess that the spoons, which the people here use[433] for such purposes, are rather large, being something like a scoop, and made likewise of a kind of gourd; the half of the Cucurbita lagenaria split in two, so that the handle at the same time forms a small channel, and may be used as a spout. Nature in these countries has provided everything; dishes, bottles, and drinking-vessels are growing on the trees, rice in the forest, and the soil without any labour produces grain. The porridge can certainly be made more palatable by seasoning; and, if boiled with milk, is by no means disagreeable. The other kind of ground-nut, the “gángala,” or “yerkúrga,” which is far more oily, and which I did not see at all in Ádamáwa, I do not like; though the people used to say that it is much more wholesome than the other kind. For making oil it is evidently the more valuable of the two. I will only add, that on this occasion I learned that the Fúlbe in this part of the country make also a similar porridge of sesamum, which they call “marasíri,” and even of the habb el ʿazíz, or the gojíya of the Háusa—the nebú of the Bórnu people. Sesamum I have frequently eaten in Negroland as a paste, or hasty pudding, but never in the form of a porridge.

The reason why the corn had failed was, that most of the men had gone to the war last year; the turbulent state of the country thus operating as a great drawback upon the cultivation of the ground. I must also observe how peculiarly the different qualities of the soil in neighbouring districts are adapted[434] for different species of grain; while in Mbutúdi, as I said, millet, géro, or Pennisetum typhoideum, was cultivated almost exclusively, here it was the dáwa, “báiri” in Fulfúlde, or sorghum, and principally the red sort, or “báiri bodéri.”

Having restored our vital strength with this famous pap of ground-nuts, and having filled our pockets, and the nose-bags of the horses too, with the remains of the great basket, we set out again on our journey in the afternoon, for it appeared to me evident that none of my companions was fond of a strict ground-nut diet, and hence would rather risk a storm than a supper of this same dish. It had become our general rule to finish our day’s journey in the forenoon, as the tempest generally set in in the afternoon.

The fields were well cultivated; but the corn on the more elevated spots stood not more than a foot high. The ground-nuts are cultivated between the corn, the regular spaces which are left between each stalk being sufficient for growing a cluster of nuts under ground; just in the same way as beans are cultivated in many parts of Negroland. The fields were beautifully shaded and adorned by the butter-tree, “tóso,” or, as the Fúlbe call it, “kárehi,” in the plural form “karéji,” which was here the exclusively predominant tree, and of course is greatly valued by the natives. Everywhere the people were busy in the fields; and altogether the country, inclosed by several beautifully shaped mountain ranges and by detached mountains, presented a most cheerful sight,[435] all the patches of grass being diversified and embellished with a kind of violet-coloured lily.

We now gradually approached the foot of Mount Holma, behind which another mountain began to rise into view; while on our left we passed a small “rúmde,” or slave-village, and then entered a sort of defile. We were greatly afraid lest we should be punished for the gastronomic transgression of our travelling rule, as a storm threatened us from behind; but we had time to reach Badaníjo in safety. Punished, however, we were, like the man who despised his peas; for, instead of finding here full bowls of pudding, we could not even procure the poor ground-nuts; and happy was he who had not neglected to fill his pockets from the full basket in Segéro.

We had the utmost difficulty in buying a very small quantity of grain for the horses; so that they also came in for a share in the remains of the ground-nuts of Segéro; and my host especially was such a shabby, inhospitable fellow, that it was painful to speak a word to him. However, it seemed that he had reason to complain, having been treated very harshly by oppressive officers, and having lost all his cattle by disease. Not a drop of milk was to be got in the village, all the cattle having died. The cattle, at least those of the large breed, which apparently has been introduced into the country by the Fúlbe, seem not yet quite acclimatized, and are occasionally decimated by disease.

Badaníjo is very picturesquely situated in a beautiful[436] irregularly-shaped valley, surrounded on all sides by mountains, which are seen from the interior of the village. The scarcity of provisions was entirely due to the great expedition of last year, which had taken away all hands from the labours of the field; for the land around here is extremely fertile, and at present, besides sorghum or holcus, produced dánkali, or sweet potatoes, góza, or yams, manioc, and a great quantity of gunna, a large variety of calabash (Fueillea trilobata, Cucurbita maxima?). Badaníjo is also interesting and important to the ethnologist, as being the northernmost seat of the extensive tribe of the Falí, or Farí, which, according to the specimens of its language which I was able to collect, is entirely distinct from the tribe of the Bátta and their kinsmen the Záni and Marghí, and seems to have only a remote affinity with the Wándalá and Gámerghú languages. At present the village is principally, but not exclusively, inhabited by the ruling race, and I estimated the population at about three thousand.

Saturday, June 14th.After we had left the rich vegetation which surrounds the village, we soon entered a wild and hilly district, and while passing over the spur of a rocky eminence on our left, observed close to the brink of the cliffs overhanging our heads the huts of the pagan village Búggela, and heard the voices of the natives, while at some distance on our right detached hills, all of which seemed to consist of granite, rose from the rugged and thickly-wooded[437] plain. The rugged nature of this country increases the importance of Badaníjo in a strategetical point of view. The country became continually more rocky and rugged, and there was scarcely a narrow path leading through the thick underwood, so that my friend the pilgrim from Mélle, who rode his tall camel, had the greatest possible trouble to make his way through; however, I had reason to admire his dexterity. All through Negroland, where so many extensive tracts are covered with forest, travelling on camel’s back is very troublesome. It was certainly very lucky for us that for the last five days scarcely any rain had fallen, otherwise the path would have been extremely difficult.

However, when we reached the village Kurúlu, the country improved, spreading out into wide pastures and cultivated fields, although it remained hilly and rather rugged; even close to the village a lower range appeared, and granite masses projected everywhere. A short distance further on I sketched mount Kurúlu and the heights near it.

Several of our party had gone into the village, and obtained some cold paste, made of a peculiar species[438] of sorghum, of entirely red colour. This red grain, “ja-n-dáwa,” or “báiri bodéri,” which I have already had occasion to mention, is very common in the southern parts of Negroland, below the tenth degree of latitude, and in some districts, as in the Músgu country, seems to prevail almost exclusively; but it was at the time new to me, and I found it extremely nauseous. The paste of white durra, “fári n dáwa,” or “báiri dhannéri,” is generally so well cooked in Ádamáwa, being formed into large rolls of four inches in length, and from two to three inches thick in the middle, that even when cold it is quite eatable, and in this state generally formed my breakfast on the road; for my palatable chébchebé from Kúkawa, like all nice things in the world, were soon gone.

Gradually we entered another rugged wilderness, from which we did not emerge till a quarter before ten o’clock, when a máriná, or dyeing place, indicated the neighbourhood of a centre of civilization unusual in this country. A few minutes more, and we reached the northern village of Saráwu, which is inhabited almost exclusively by Bórnu people, and is therefore called Saráwu Beréberé. On the side from which we arrived the village is open, and does not seem to be thickly inhabited, but further to the south the population is denser. Having halted some time on a small open space in the middle of the village in the shade of a small terebinth, we were conducted into very excellent quarters, which seem to deserve a short description.

[439]It was a group of three huts, situated in the midst of a very spacious outer yard which was surrounded by a light fence of corn stalks. The huts consisted of clay walls with a thatched roof of very careful workmanship, and were joined together by clay walls. The most spacious of these huts (a), of about twelve feet in diameter, formed the entrance-hall and the parlour, being furnished with two doors or openings, one on the side of the outer, and the other on the side of the inner courtyard, from which the two other huts (b and c), destined for the women, had their only access. The outer opening or door of the chief hut (a), therefore, although rather small according to our ideas, was very large considering the general custom of the country, measuring three feet and a half in height, and sixteen inches in the widest part, its form being that of an egg.

In this hut there was only one very large couch measuring seven feet and a half in length by five in width, and raised three feet above the floor, made of clay over a frame of wood, on the right side of the door, where the landlord used to receive his guests, the remaining part of the hut being empty, and capable of receiving a good many people. Between the couch and the door there was a fire-place, or fúgodí, or fúgo kánnurám in Kanúri, “hobbunírde” in Fulfúlde, formed by three stones of the same size. Of this airy[440] room I myself took possession, spreading my carpet upon the raised platform, while the mʿallem, my servants, and whosoever paid me a visit, found a place on the floor. The wall, which was rather thicker than usual, was all coloured with a reddish brown tint, and upon this ground several objects had been so unartistically delineated, that, with the exception of wooden tablets, “alló,” such as the boys here use in learning to write, it was impossible to tell what they were intended for.

The hut opposite this parlour (b), which was smaller than (a) but larger than (c), seemed intended for the ordinary dwelling of the landlady, being ornamented in the background with the “gángar,” as it is called in Kanúri, “nanne” in Fulfúlde, a raised platform or sideboard for the cooking utensils; here four large-sized new jars were placed, as in battle array, surmounted by smaller ones. With regard to the other arrangements the two huts were of similar construction, having on each side a couch, one for the man and the other for his wife. In both the woman’s couch was the better one, being formed of clay on a wooden frame, and well protected from prying eyes by a thin clay-wall, about five feet high, and handsomely ornamented in the following way: running not only along the side of the door, but enclosing also half of the other side, it excluded all impertinent curiosity; while the man’s couch, which was less regular and comfortable, reached to the very border of the door, and on this side had the protection[441] only of a thin clay-wall, without ornaments. With the privacy thus attained, the size of the doors was in entire harmony, being of an oval shape, and very small, particularly in (c), measuring only about two feet in height, and ten inches in width, a size which I am afraid would refuse a passage to many a European lady; indeed, it might seem rather intended to keep a married lady within doors, after she had first contrived to get in.

Notwithstanding the scanty light falling into the interior of the hut, through the narrow doorway, it was also painted, (c) in this respect surpassing its sister hut in the harmony of its colours, which formed broad alternate bands of white and brown, and gave the whole a very stately and finished character. The whole arrangement of these two huts bore distinct testimony to a greatly developed sense of domestic comfort.

In the wall of the courtyard, between (b) and (c), there was a small back-door, raised above the ground, and of diminutive size (f), apparently intended for admitting female visitors, without obliging them to pass through the parlour, and at the same time showing[442] much confidence in the discretion of the female department. In the courtyard were two large-sized jars, (g) the larger one being the bázam or corn-jar, and the smaller (d) the gébam or water-jar. In the corner, formed between the hut (a) and the wall of the courtyard, was the “fúgodí,” or kitchen, on a small scale.

The house belonged to a private man, who was absent at the time. From the outer courtyard, which, as I have observed, was spacious, and fenced only with corn-stalks, there was an interesting panorama over a great extent of country to the south, and I was enabled to take a great many angles. From this place also I made the following sketch of a cone which seemed to me very picturesque, but the exact name of which I could not learn.

Saráwu is the most elevated place on the latter part of this route, although the highest point of the water-partition, between the basin of the Tsád and that of the so-called Niger, as I stated before, seems to be at the pass north of Úba. The difference between the state of the corn here and in Múbi and thereabout was[443] very remarkable. The crop stood here scarcely a few inches above the ground.[109] The soil also around the place is not rich, the mould being thin upon the surface of the granite, which in many places lies bare. The situation of Saráwu is very important on account of its being the point where the road from Logón and all the north-eastern part of Ádamáwa, which includes some very considerable centres of industry and commerce, particularly Fátawel, the entrepôt of all the ivory trade in these quarters, joins the direct road from Kúkawa to the capital. Cotton is cultivated here to some extent. Ádamáwa is a promising country of colonies.

Saráwu, too, was suffering from dearth from the same reason which I have explained above; the second crop, which is destined to provide for the last and most pressing period, while the new crop is ripening, not having been sown at all last year on account of the expedition, so that we had great difficulty in obtaining the necessary corn for our five horses. It would, however, have been very easy for me to obtain a sufficient supply if I had demanded a small fee for my medical assistance, as I had a good many patients who came to me for remedies; but this I refrained from doing. I had here some very singular cases, which rather exceeded my skill; and among others there was a woman who had gone with child[444] full two years, without any effort on the part of her imaginary offspring to come forth, and who came to me now with full confidence that the far-famed stranger would be able to help her to motherhood. Among the people who visited me there was also a Tébu, or rather Tedá, who in his mercantile rambles had penetrated to this spot; indeed these people are very enterprising, but in general their journeys lie more in the direction of Wándalá, where they dispose of a great quantity of glass beads. This man had resided here some time, but was not able to give me much information.[110] He, however, excited my curiosity with regard to two white women, whom I was to see in Yóla, brought there from the southern regions of Ádamáwa, and who he assured me were at least as white as myself. But, after all, this was not saying much; for my arms and face at that time were certainly some shades darker than the darkest Spaniard or Italian. I had heard already several people speak of these women, and the natives had almost made them the subject of a romance, spreading the rumour that my object in going to Yóla was to get a white female companion. I shall have occasion to speak about a tribe of lighter colour than usual in the interior, not far from the coast of the Cameroons, and there can be[445] no doubt about the fact. My short and uncomfortable stay in the capital of Ádamáwa deprived me of the opportunity of deciding with regard to the exact shade of these people’s complexion, but I think it is a yellowish brown.

Sunday, June 15th.Having been busy in the morning writing Fulfúlde, I mounted my horse about ten o’clock, accompanied by Bíllama and Bú-Sʿad, in order to visit the market, which is held every Thursday and Sunday, on a little eminence at some distance from the Bórnu village, and close to the S.E. side of Saráwu Fulfúlde, separated from the latter by a ravine. The market was furnished with thirty-five stalls made of bushes and mats, and was rather poorly attended. However, it must be taken into consideration, that during the season of field-labours all markets in Negroland are much less considerable than at other seasons of the year. There were a good many head of cattle for sale, while two oxen were slaughtered for provision, to be cut up and sold in small parcels. The chief articles besides were groundnuts, butter, a small quantity of rice, salt, and soap. Soap, indeed, is a very important article in any country inhabited by Fúlbe, and it is prepared in every household; while very often, even in large places inhabited by other tribes, it is quite impossible to obtain this article, so essential for cleanliness. No native grain of any kind was in the market,—a proof of the great dearth which prevailed throughout the country. A few túrkedí were to be seen; and I[446] myself introduced a specimen of this article, in order to obtain the currency of the country for buying small matters of necessity.

The standard of the market is the native cotton, woven, as it is, all over Negroland, in narrow strips called “léppi,” of about two inches and a quarter in width, though this varies greatly. Shells (“kurdí,” or “chéde”) have no currency. The smallest measure of cotton is the “nánandé,” measuring ten “drʿa” or “fóndudé” (sing. “fóndukí”), equal to four fathoms, “káme” or “nándudé” (sing. “nándukí[111]”). Seven nánandé make one “dóra”—meaning a small shirt of extremely coarse workmanship, and scarcely to be used for dress; and from two to five dóra make one thób or “gaffaléul”[112] of variable size and quality. The túrkedí which I introduced into the market, and which I had bought in Kanó for 1800 kurdí, was sold for a price equivalent to 2500 shells, which certainly is not a great profit, considering the danger of the road. However, it must be borne in mind that what I bought for 1800, a native certainly would have got for 1600, and would perhaps have sold for 2800 or more.

Having caused some disturbance to the usual quiet course of business in the market, I left Bú-Sʿad[447] behind me to buy some articles which we wanted, and proceeded with my kashélla towards the ravine, and ascending the opposite bank, entered the straggling quarter of the Fúlbe, which, in a very remarkable manner, is adorned with a single specimen of the charming gonda-tree, or “dukúje” (the Carica papaya), and a single specimen of the gigiña or dugbi, the Hyphæna which I have frequently mentioned; at all events not more than these two specimens are seen rearing their tapering forms above the huts and fences. Then we directed our steps towards the dwelling of the governor, which impressed me by its magnificence when compared with the meanness of the cottages around. A very spacious oblong yard, surrounded with a high clay wall, encircled several apartments, the entrance being formed by a round cool hut of about twenty-five feet diameter, the clay walls of which, from the ground to the border of the thatched roof, measured about ten feet in height, and had two square doors of about eight feet in height, one towards the street, and the other on the inside,—altogether a splendid place in the hot season. Here, too, the floor was at present thickly strewn with pebbles.

But the master of this noble mansion was an unhappy blind man, who, leaning upon the shoulders of his servants, was led into the room by a mʿallem or módibo, one of the finest men I have seen in the country, and more like a European than a native of Negroland, tall and broad-shouldered, and remarkably[448] amiable and benevolent. The governor himself, also, was remarkably tall and robust for a Púllo. The módibo, who spoke Arabic tolerably well, and officiated as interpreter, had heard a good deal about me, and was most anxious to see those curious instruments which had been described to him; and as I wore the chronometer and compass constantly attached to my waist, I was able to satisfy his curiosity, which, in so learned a man, was less vain and more interesting than usual. But the poor blind governor felt rather uneasy because he could not see these wonders with his own eyes, and endeavoured to indemnify himself by listening to the ticking of the watch, and by touching the compass. But he was more disappointed still when I declared that I was unable to restore his sight, which, after all the stories he had heard about me, he had thought me capable of doing; and I could only console him by begging him to trust in “Jaumiráwo” (the Lord on High). As, on setting out, I did not know that we were going to pay our respects to this man, I had no present to offer him except a pair of English scissors, and these of course, in his blindness, he was unable to value, though his companion found out immediately how excellent they were for cutting paper. The governor is far superior in power to his neighbours, and besides Saráwu, Kurúndel, or Korúlu, and Bíngel are subject to his government.

While recrossing the ravine on my return to Saráwu Beréberé, I observed with great delight a spring of[449] water bubbling up from the soil, and forming a small pond—quite a new spectacle for me. After I had returned to my quarters I was so fortunate as to make a great bargain in cloves, which I now found out were the only article in request here. The Bórnu women seemed amazingly fond of them, and sold the nánande of léppi for thirty cloves, when, seeing that they were very eager to buy, I raised the price of my merchandise, offering only twenty-five. I had also the luck to buy several fowls and sufficient corn for three horses, with a pair of scissors; and as my mʿallem Katúri had several old female friends in the village who sent him presents, we all had plenty to eat that day. But nevertheless my old friend the mʿallem was not content, but, in the consciousness of his own merits, picked a quarrel with me because I refused to write charms for the people, while they all came to me, as to the wisest of our party; and had I done so, we might all have lived in the greatest luxury and abundance.

In the evening, while a storm was raging outside, Bíllama gave me a list of the most important persons in the capital of the country which we were now fast approaching. Mohammed Lowel, the son of Mʿallem Ádama, has several full-grown brothers, who all figure occasionally as leaders of great expeditions, and also others of more tender age. The eldest of these is Bú-Bakr (generally called Mʿallem Bágeri), who last year conducted the great expedition towards the north; next follows Aíjo; then Mʿallem Mansúr,[450] a man whom Bíllama represented to me as of special importance for me, on account of his being the favourite of the people, and amicably disposed towards Bórnu; ʿOmáro; Zubéru; Hámidu. Of the other people, he represented to me as the most influential—Móde Hassan, the kádhi; Móde ʿAbd-Alláhi, the secretary of state; and the Ardo Ghámmawa, as commander of the troops. As the most respectable Háusa people settled in Yóla, he named Káiga Hámma, Serkí-n-Góber, Mai Konáma, Mágaji-n-Hadder, Mai Hadder, and Búwári (Bokhári).

I introduce this notice, as it may prove useful in case of another expedition up the river Bénuwé.

Monday, June 16th.Starting at an early hour we passed the market-place, which to-day was deserted, and then left the Púllo town on one side. The country being elevated, and the path winding, we had every moment a new view of the mountains around us; and before we began to descend[451] I made the accompanying sketch of the country behind us, stretching from N. 30 E. to E. 20 N.

The country continued rugged and rocky, though it was occasionally interrupted by cultivated ground, and a mountain group of interesting form, called Kónkel, stood out on our right.

Having entered at eight o’clock upon cultivated ground of great extent, we reached a quarter of an hour afterwards Bélem, the residence of Mʿallem Dalíli, a man whom I had heard much praised in Saráwu. Bíllama wished to spend the day here, but I was very anxious to proceed, as we had already lost the preceding day; but at the same time I desired to make the acquaintance of, and to pay my respects to, a person whom every one praised for his excellent qualities. I therefore sent forward the camels with the men on foot, while I myself entered the village with the horsemen. Crossing a densely inhabited quarter, we found the mʿallem sitting under a tree in his courtyard, a venerable and benevolent-looking old man, in a threadbare blue shirt and a green “báki-n-záki.” We had scarcely paid our respects to him, and he had asked a few general questions in Arabic, when an[452] Arab adventurer from Jedda, with the title of sheríf, who had roved a good deal about the world, made his appearance, and was very inquisitive to know the motives which had carried me into this remote country; and Bú-Sʿad thought it prudent to pique his curiosity, by telling him that we had come to search for the gold and silver in the mountains. Old Mʿallem Dalíli soon after began to express himself to the effect that he should feel offended if I would not stay with him till the afternoon; and I was at length obliged to send for the camels, which had already gone on a good way.

A rather indifferent lodging being assigned to me, I took possession of the shade of a rími, or béntehi,—the bentang-tree of Mungo Park (Eriodendron Guinense), of rather small size, and there tried to resign myself quietly to the loss of another day, while in truth I burned with impatience to see the river, which was the first and most important object of my journey. However, my quarters soon became more interesting to me, as I observed here several peculiarities of arrangement, which, while they were quite new to me, were most characteristic of the equatorial regions which I was approaching. For while in Bórnu and Háusa it is the general custom to expose the horses, even very fine ones, to all changes of the weather—which on the whole are not very great,—in these regions, where the wet season is of far longer duration and the rains much heavier, it is not prudent to leave the animals unsheltered, and stables are built for them[453] on purpose,—round spacious huts with unusually high clay walls; these are called “debbíru” by the Fúlbe of Ádamáwa, from the Háusa word “débbi.” Even for the cattle there was here a stable, but more airy, consisting only of a thatched roof supported by thick poles, and enclosed with a fence of thorny bushes.

The vegetation in the place was very rich, and an experienced botanist might have found many new species of plants, while to me the most remarkable circumstance was the quantity of Palma Christi scattered about the place, a single specimen of the gonda-tree, and the first specimen of a remarkable plant which I had not observed before on my travels,—a smooth soft stem about ten inches thick at the bottom, and shooting up to a height of about twenty-five feet, but drawn downwards and inclined by the weight and size of its leaves, which measured six feet in length and about twenty inches in breadth. The Háusa people gave it the name “alléluba,” a name generally given to quite a different tree which I have mentioned in speaking of Kanó. The plant bears some resemblance to the Musa, or banana; fruits or flowers it had none at present.

I had been roving about for some time when the sheríf, whom I mentioned above, came to pay me a visit, when I learned that he had come to this place by way of Wadáy and Logón, and that he had been staying here already twenty days, being engaged in building a warm bath for the mʿallem, as he had also done for the sultan of Wadáy.

[454]The reader sees that these wandering Arabs are introducing civilization into the very heart of this continent, and it would not be amiss if they could all boast of such accomplishments; but this rarely happens. Even this very man was a remarkable example of those saintly adventurers so frequently met with in Negroland, but who begin to tire out the patience of the more enlightened princes of the country. He brought me a lump of native home-made soap, with which, as he said, I might “wash my clothes, as I came from the dirty, soapless country of Bórnu.” This present was not ill-selected, although I hope that the reader will not thence conclude that I was particularly dirty,—at least not more so than an African traveller might be fairly expected to be. I had laid in a good store of cloves, which, as I have had already occasion to mention, are highly esteemed here, so I made him very happy by giving him about half a pound weight of them.

More interesting, however, to me than the visit of this wandering son of the East was the visit of two young native noblemen, sons of the Ardo Jídda, to whom belongs the country between Sugúr and Wándalá or Mándará, and the younger of whom was a remarkably handsome man, of slender form, light complexion, and a most agreeable expression of countenance. This, however, is a remark which I have often made on my travels, that the males among the Fúlbe are very handsome till they reach the age of about twenty years, when they gradually assume an[455] apish expression of countenance, which entirely spoils the really Circassian features which they have in early life. As for the females, they preserve their beauty much longer. While these young men were giving unrestrained vent to their admiration of my things, the old mʿallem came with a numerous suite of attendants; whereupon they drew shyly back, and sat silently at a distance. In this part of the world there is a great respect for age.

The mʿallem and his companions were not only astonished at my instruments, but manifested much curiosity about the map of Africa, which I unfolded before their eyes, being greatly struck by the extent of the continent towards the south, of which they had previously no idea. I shall show in another part of this work how far the Fúlbe have become acquainted with the regions about the equator, and how a faint rumour of the strong pagan kingdom of Muropúwe has spread over the kingdoms of North Central Africa. Their esteem for me increased when I showed them my little prayer-book, which I wore in a red case slung round my shoulders, just as they wear their Kurán; indeed a Christian can never be more sure of acquiring the esteem of a Moslim—at least of a learned one—than when he shows himself impressed with the sentiments of his religion; but he must not be a zealous Roman Catholic, nor broach doctrines which seem to deny the Unity of God. He took great delight in hearing a psalm of the well-known “nebí Dáúd” (David) read in English. He, as well[456] as almost all his companions, spoke Arabic; for, as Saráwu Beréberé is a colony of Bórnu people, Bélem is a pure Arabic colony, that is to say, a colony of the Sálamát, a tribe widely-scattered over Bórnu and Wadáy. Mʿallem Óro, or, as he is popularly called, on account of his humility and devoutness, Mʿallem Dalíli, was born in Wadáy, but settled in Bórnu, from whence at the time of the conquest of the country by the Fúlbe or Felláta (in the year 1808) he fled to avoid famine and oppression, like so many other unfortunate inhabitants of that kingdom, and founded a village in this promising region. This is the country for colonies, and I do not see why a colony of the liberated slaves of Sierra Leone might not be advantageously established here. All these people wear indigo-coloured shirts, and in this manner, even by their dress, are distinguished from the Fúlbe. They are tolerated and protected, although a Púllo head man has his residence here, besides the mʿallem.

We were to start in the afternoon; but my stupid Fezzáni servant, Mohammed ben Habíb, had almost killed himself with eating immoderately of ground-nuts, and was so seriously ill that I was reduced to the alternative either of leaving him behind or waiting for him. Choosing the latter, I made a day of feasting for the whole of my little company, the mʿallem sending me a goat for my people, a couple of fowls for myself, and corn for my horses; besides which, I was so fortunate as to buy a supply of rice. In consideration of his hospitable treatment, I sent the old mʿallem[457] a bit of camphor and a parcel of cloves. Camphor is a most precious thing in these regions, and highly esteemed by the nobler classes, and I cannot too strongly recommend a traveller to provide himself with a supply of it. It is obvious that a small quantity, if well kept, will last him a long time. He may find an opportunity of laying a man of first-rate importance under lasting obligations by a present of a small piece of camphor.

Tuesday, June 17th.We at length set out to continue our journey. The morning was beautifully fresh and cool after the last night’s storm, the sky was clear, and the country open and pleasant. A fine grassy plain, with many patches of cultivated ground, extended on our right to the very foot of Mount Kónkel, which as I now saw is connected by a lower ridge with Mount Holma. We passed the ruins of the village Bíngel, the inhabitants of which had transferred their settlement nearer to the foot of the mountains. Then followed forest, interrupted now and then by corn-fields. My friends, the young sons of Ardo Jídda, accompanied me for full two hours on horseback, when they bade me a friendly farewell, receiving each of them, to his great delight, a stone-set ring, which I begged them to present to their ladies as a memorial of the Christian traveller. I now learnt that the young men were already mixing a good deal in politics; the younger brother, who was much the handsomer, and seemed to be also the more intelligent of the two, had till recently administered[458] the government of his blind father’s province, but had been deposed on account of his friendly disposition towards Wándalá, having married a princess of that country, and the management of affairs had been transferred to his elder brother.

Forest and cultivated ground alternately succeeded each other; a little after nine o’clock we passed on our left a small “rúmde,” or slave-village, with ground-nuts and holcus in the fields, and most luxuriant pasture all around. The country evidently sloped southwards, and at a little distance beyond the village I observed the first watercourse, running decidedly in that direction; on its banks the corn stood already four feet high. The country now became quite open to the east and south, and everything indicated that we were approaching the great artery of the country which I was so anxious to behold. In the distance to the west, a range of low hills was still observable, but was gradually receding. About ten o’clock we passed the site of a straggling but deserted village, called Melágo, the inhabitants of which had likewise exchanged their dwelling-place in this low level country, for a more healthy one at the foot of the mountains where there is another village called Kófa, homonymous with that in the Marghí country; for this district belongs to the country of the Bátta, a numerous tribe nearly related, as I have stated above, to the Marghí. All the ruins of the dwellings in Melágo were of clay, and the rumbú or rumbúje—the[459] stacks of corn—were of a peculiar description; fine corn-fields spread around and between the huts.

Having rested about noon for a little more than two hours on a rather damp and gloomy spot near a dirty pond, we continued our march, the country now assuming a very pleasant park-like appearance, clothed in the most beautiful green, at times broken by corn-fields, where the corn—Pennisetum or géro—stood already five feet high. We soon had to deliberate on the very important question which way to take, as the road divided into two branches, the northern or western one leading by way of Búmánda, while the southern or eastern one went by way of Sulléri. Most of my companions were for the former road, which they represented as much nearer, and as I afterwards saw, with the very best reason; but fortunately the more gastronomic part of the caravan, headed by Bíllama, who was rather fond of good living, rejected Búmánda, as being inhabited by poor inhospitable pagans, and decided for the promising large dishes of Mohammedan Sulléri. This turned out to be a most fortunate circumstance for me, although the expectations of my friends were most sadly disappointed. For if we had followed the route by Búmánda, we should have crossed the Bénuwé lower down, and I should not have seen the “Tépe,” that most interesting and important locality, where the Bénuwé is joined by the Fáro, and swelled to that majestic river which is at least equal in magnitude to[460] the Kwára. Of this circumstance I was then not aware, else I should have decided from the beginning for the route by Sulléri. Unfortunately, owing to my very short stay in the country, I cannot say exactly where Búmánda lies; but I should suppose that it is situated about ten miles lower down, at a short distance from the river, like the place of the same name near Hamárruwa[113], and I think it must lie opposite to Yóla, so that a person who crosses the river at that place, goes over directly to the capital, without touching either at Ribáwo, or at any of the neighbouring places.

Having, therefore, chosen the eastern road, we soon reached the broad, but at present dry sandy channel of the máyo Tíyel, which runs in a south-westerly direction to join the Bénuwé; water was to be found close underneath the surface of the sand, and several women heavily laden with sets of calabashes, and belonging to a troop of travellers encamped on the eastern border of the watercourse, were busy in scooping a supply of most excellent water from a shallow hollow or “kénkenu.” The banks of the river, or rather torrent, were lined with luxuriant trees, amongst which I observed the dorówa or meráya (Parkia), in considerable numbers.

Forest and cultivated ground now succeeded alternately, till we reached a beautiful little lake called[461] “gére[114] Páriyá” by the Bátta, and “barre-n-dáke” by the Fúlbe, at present about fourteen hundred yards long, and surrounded by tall grass, everywhere impressed with tracks of the hippopotami or “ngábba,” which emerge during the night from their watery abode to indulge here quietly in a rich pasturage. This is the usual camping-ground of expeditions which come this way. A little beyond this lake a path branched off from our road to the right, leading to Ródi, a place of the Bátta, whose villages, according to Mohámmedu’s statement, are all fortified with stockades, and situated in strong positions naturally protected by rocky mounts and ridges.

There had been a storm in the afternoon at some distance; but when the sun was setting, and just as we began to wind along a narrow path through a thick forest, a black tempest gathered over our heads. At length we reached the fields of Sulléri, and, having stumbled along them in the deepest darkness, illumined only at intervals by flashes of lightning, we entered the place and pushed our way through the narrow streets, looking round in vain for Ibrahíma, who had gone on to procure quarters.

To our great disappointment we found the house of the governor shut up; and, notwithstanding our constant firing and knocking at the door, nobody came to open it, while the heavy clouds began to discharge their watery load over our heads. At length,[462] driven to despair, we turned round, and by force entered his son’s house, which was situated opposite to his own. Here I took possession of one side of the spacious, clean, and cool entrance-hall, which was separated from the thoroughfare by a little balustrade raised above the floor. Spreading my mat and carpet upon the pebbles with which, as is the general custom here, it was strewn, I indulged in comfort and repose after the fatiguing day’s march, while outside the tempest, and inside the landlord, were raging; the latter being extremely angry with Bíllama on account of our forced entry. Not the slightest sign of hospitality was shown to us; and instead of regaling themselves with the expected luxurious dishes of Sulléri, my companions had to go supperless to bed, while the poor horses remained without any thing to eat, and were drenched with the rain.

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[463]CHAP. XXXV.

THE MEETING OF THE WATERS. — THE BÉNUWÉ AND FÁRO.

Wednesday, June 18th.At an early hour we left the inhospitable place of Sulléri. It was a beautiful fresh morning, all nature being revived and enlivened by the last night’s storm. My companions, sullen and irritated, quarrelled among themselves on account of the selfish behaviour of Ibrahíma. As for me, I was cheerful in the extreme, and borne away by an enthusiastic and triumphant feeling; for to-day I was to see the river.

The neighbourhood of the water was first indicated by numbers of high ant-hills, which, as I shall have occasion to observe more fully in the course of my narrative, abound chiefly in the neighbourhood of rivers: they were here ranged in almost parallel lines, and afforded a very curious spectacle. We had just passed a small village or rúmde, where not a living soul was to be seen, the people having all gone forth to the labours of the field, when the lively Mohámmedu came running up to me, and exclaimed, “Gashí, gashí, dútsi-n-Alantíka ké nan” (“Look! look! that is Mount Alantíka”). I strained my eyes and saw,[464] at a great distance to the S.W., a large but insulated mountain mass, rising abruptly on the east side, and forming a more gradual slope towards the west, while it exhibited a rather smooth and broad top, which certainly must be spacious, as it contains the estates of seven independent pagan chiefs. Judging from the distance, which was pretty well known to me, I estimated the height of the mountain at about eight thousand feet above the plain, or about nine thousand feet of absolute elevation; but it may be somewhat less.

Here there was still cultivated ground, exhibiting at present the finest crop of masr, called “bútalí” by the Fúlbe of Ádamáwa; but a little further on we entered upon a swampy plain (the savannas of Ádamáwa), overgrown with tall rank grass, and broken by many large hollows full of water, so that we were obliged to proceed with great caution. This whole plain is annually (two months later) entirely under water. However, in the middle of it, on a little rising ground which looks as if it were an artificial mound, lies a small village, the abode of the ferrymen of the Bénuwé, from whence the boys came running after us—slender well-built lads, accustomed to fatigue and strengthened by daily bathing; the younger ones quite naked, the elder having a leathern apron girt round their loins. A quarter of an hour afterwards we stood on the bank of the Bénuwé.[115]

[465]It happens but rarely that a traveller does not feel disappointed when he first actually beholds the principal features of a new country, of which his imagination has composed a picture, from the description of the natives; but although I must admit that the shape and size of the Alantíka, as it rose in rounded lines from the flat level, did not exactly correspond with the idea which I had formed of it, the appearance of the river far exceeded my most lively expectations. None of my informants had promised me that I should just come upon it at that most interesting locality—the Tépe[116]—where the mightier river is joined by another of very considerable size, and that in this place I was to cross it. My arrival at this point, as I have stated before, was a most fortunate circumstance. As I looked from the bank over the scene before me, I was quite enchanted, although the whole country bore the character of a desolate wilderness; but there could scarcely be any great traces of human industry near the river, as, during its floods, it inundates the whole country on both sides. This is the general character of all the[466] great rivers in these regions, except where they are encompassed by very steep banks.

The principal river, the Bénuwé, flowed here from east to west, in a broad and majestic course, through an entirely open country, from which only here and there detached mountains started forth. The banks on our side rose to twenty-five, and in some places to thirty feet, while just opposite to my station, behind a pointed headland of sand, the Fáro rushed forth, appearing from this point not much inferior to the principal river, and coming in a fine sweep from the south-east, where it disappeared in the plain, but was traced by me, in thought, upwards to the steep eastern foot of the Alantíka. The river, below the junction, keeping the direction of the principal branch, but making a slight bend to the north, ran along the northern foot of Mount Bágelé, and was there lost to the eye, but was followed in thought through the mountainous region of the Báchama and Zína to Hamárruwa, and thence along the industrious country of Korórofa, till it joined the great western river the Kwára or Niger, and, conjointly with it, ran towards the great ocean.

On the northern side of the river another detached mountain, Mount Taife, rose, and behind it the Bengo, with which Mount Fúro seemed connected, stretching out in a long line towards the north-west. The bank upon which we stood was entirely bare of trees, with the exception of a solitary and poor acacia, about one hundred paces further up the river, while on the[467] opposite shore, along the Fáro and below the junction, some fine clusters of trees were faintly seen.

I looked long and silently upon the stream; it was one of the happiest moments in my life. Born on the bank of a large navigable river, in a commercial place of great energy and life, I had from my childhood, a great predilection for river-scenery; and although plunged for many years in the too exclusive study of antiquity, I never lost this native instinct. As soon as I left home, and became the independent master of my actions, I began to combine travel with study, and to study while travelling, it being my greatest delight to trace running waters from their sources, and to see them grow into brooks, to follow the brooks, and see them become rivers, till they at last disappeared in the all-devouring ocean. I had wandered all around the Mediterranean, with its many gulfs, its beautiful peninsulas, its fertile islands—not hurried along by steam, but slowly wandering from place to place, following the traces of the settlements of the Greeks and Romans around this beautiful basin, once their terra incognita. And thus, when entering upon the adventurous career in which I subsequently engaged, it had been the object of my most lively desire to throw light upon the natural arteries and hydrographical network of the unknown regions of Central Africa. The great eastern branch of the Niger was the foremost to occupy my attention; and, although for some time uncertain as to the identity of the river of Ádamáwa with that[468] laid down in its lower course by Messrs. W. Allen, Laird, and Oldfield, I had long made up my mind on this point, thanks to the clear information received from my friend Ahmed bel Mejúb. I had now with my own eyes clearly established the direction and nature of this mighty river; and to an unprejudiced mind there could no longer be any doubt that this river joins the majestic watercourse explored by the gentlemen just mentioned.[117] Hence I cherish the well-founded conviction, that along this natural highroad European influence and commerce will penetrate into the very heart of the continent, and abolish slavery, or rather those infamous slave-hunts and religious wars, destroying the natural germs of human happiness, which are spontaneously developed in the simple life of the pagans, and spreading devastation and desolation all around.

We descended towards the place of embarkation, which at this season of the year changes every week, or even more frequently. At present it was at the mouth of a small, deeply-worn channel, or dry watercourse, descending from the swampy meadow-grounds towards the river, and filled with tall reed-grass and bushes. Here was the poor little naval arsenal of the Tépe, consisting of three canoes, two in good[469] repair, and a third one in a state of decay, and unfit for service.

It was now that for the first time I saw these rude little shells, hollowed out of a single trunk—for the boats of the Búdduma are more artificial, being made of a number of boards joined together; and I soon began to eye these frail canoes with rather an anxious feeling, as I was about to trust myself and all my property to what seemed to offer very inadequate means of crossing with safety a large and deep river. They measured from twenty-five to thirty feet in length, and only from a foot to a foot and a half in height, and sixteen inches in width; and one of them was so crooked, that I could scarcely imagine how it could stem the strong current of the river.

On the river itself two canoes were plying; but, notwithstanding our repeated hallooing and firing, the canoemen would not come to our side of the river; perhaps they were afraid. Roving about along the bushy watercourse, I found an old canoe, which being made of two very large trunks joined together, had been incomparably more comfortable and spacious than the canoes now in use; although the joints being made with cordage just like the stitching of a shirt, and without pitching the holes, which were only stuffed with grass, necessarily allowed the water to penetrate continually into the boat; it, however, had the great advantage of not breaking if it ran upon a rock, being in a certain degree pliable. It was about thirty-five feet long,[470] and twenty-six inches wide in the middle; but it was now out of repair, and was lying upside down. It was from this point, standing upon the bottom of the boat, that I made the sketch of this most interesting locality.

The canoemen still delaying to come, I could not resist the temptation of taking a river bath, a luxury which I had not enjoyed since bathing in the Eurymedon. The river is full of crocodiles; but there could be little danger from these animals after all our firing and the constant noise of so many people. I had not yet arrived at the conviction, that river-bathing is not good for a European in a tropical climate, but this was the first and last time that I bathed voluntarily, with a single exception, for when navigating the river of Logón on a fine day in March, 1852, I could not help jumping overboard, and on my return from Bagírmi, in August 1853, I was obliged to do it.

The bed of the river, after the first foot and a half, sloped down very gradually, so that at the distance of thirty yards from the shore I had not more than three feet and a half of water, but then it suddenly became deep. The current was so strong, that I was unable to stem it; but my original strength, I must allow, was at the time already greatly reduced. The only advantage which I derived from this feat was that of learning that the river carries gold with it; for the people, as often as I dipped under water, cried out that I was searching for this metal, and when I[471] came out of the water, were persuaded that I had obtained plenty of it. However, the river was already too full for investigating this matter further.

At length a canoe arrived, the largest of the two that were actually employed, and a long bargaining commenced with the eldest of the canoemen, a rather short and well set lad. Of course as the chief of the caravan, I had to pay for all, and there being three camels and five horses to be carried over, it was certainly a difficult business. It cannot, therefore, be regarded as a proof of exorbitant demands, that I had to pay five “dóras,” a sum which in Kúkawa would buy two oxen loads of Indian corn. I allowed all the people to go before me, in order to prevent the canoemen from exacting something more from them.

There was considerable difficulty with my large camel-bags, which were far too large for the canoes, and which several times were in danger of being upset; for they were so unsteady that the people were obliged to kneel down on the bottom, and keep their equilibrium by holding with both hands on the sides of the boat. Fortunately I had laid my tentpoles at the bottom of the canoe, so that the water did not reach the luggage; but owing to the carelessness of the Hajji’s companions all his books were wetted, to his utmost distress; but I saw him afterwards shedding tears, while he was drying his deteriorated treasures on the sandy beach of the headland. The horses as they crossed, swimming by the sides of the canoe, had to undergo great fatigue, but desperate[472] was the struggle of the camels, which were too obstinate to be guided by the frail vessels, and had to be pushed through alone, and could only be moved by the most severe beating; the camel of the Hajji was for a while given up in despair by the whole party. At length they were induced to cross the channel, the current carrying them down to a great distance, and our whole party arrived safe on the sandy beach of the headland, where there was not a bit of shade. This whole headland for two or three months every year is covered with water, although its chief part, which was overgrown with tall reed-grass, was at present about fifteen feet above the surface.

The river, where we crossed it, was, at the very least, eight hundred yards broad, and in its channel generally eleven feet deep, and was liable to rise, under ordinary circumstances, at least thirty, or even at times fifty feet higher. Its upper course at that time was known to me, as far as the town of Géwe on the road to Logón; but further on I had only heard from the natives that it came from the south, or rather from the S.S.E.

It was a quarter before one o’clock when we left the beach in order to cross the second river, the Fáro[118], which is stated to come from Mount Lábul,[473] about seven days’ march to the south. It was at present about six hundred yards broad, but generally not exceeding two feet in depth, although almost all my informants had stated to me that the Fáro was the principal river. The reason of this mistake was, I think, that they had never seen the two rivers at this place, but observed the Fáro near Gúrin, where, a little later in the season, it seems to be of an immense breadth, particularly if they crossed from Bundang; or they were swayed by the great length of the latter river, which they were acquainted with in its whole course, while none of them had followed the upper course of the Bénuwé.

Be this as it may, the current of the Fáro was extremely violent, far more so than that of the Bénuwé, approaching, in my estimation, a rate of about five miles, while I would rate the former at about three and a half miles an hour; the current of the Fáro plainly indicating that the mountainous region whence it issued was at no great distance. In order to avoid the strongest part of the current, which swept along the southern shore, we kept close to a small island, which, however, at present could still be reached from this side with dry feet. We then entered upon low meadow land, overgrown with tall reed grass, which a month later is entirely inundated to such a depth that only the crowns of the tallest trees are seen rising above the water, of which they bore unmistakeable traces; the highest line thus marked being about fifty feet above the present level[474] of the river: for of course the inundation does not always reach the same height, but varies according to the greater or less abundance of the rains. The information of my companions, as well as the evident marks on the ground, left not the least doubt about the immense rise of these rivers.[119]

For a mile and a half from the present margin of the river, near a large and beautiful tamarind-tree, we ascended its outer bank, rising to the height of about thirty feet, the brink of which is not only generally reached by the immense inundation, but even sometimes overflowed, so that the people who cross it during the height of the inundation, leaving the canoes here, have still to make their way through deep water, covering this highest level.

My companions from Ádamáwa were almost unanimous in spontaneously representing the waters as preserving their highest level for forty days, which, according to their accounts, would extend from about the 20th of August till the end of September. This statement of mine, made not from my own experience, but from the information of the natives, has been slightly, but indeed very slightly, modified by the experience of those eminent men who, upon the reports which I forwarded of my discovery, were[475] sent out by her Majesty’s Government in the “Pleiad,” and who succeeded in reaching the point down to which I had been able to delineate the course of the river with some degree of certainty. That the fall of the river at this point of the junction begins at the very end of September has been exactly confirmed by these gentlemen, while with regard to the forty days they have not made any distinct observation, although there is evidence enough that they experienced something confirmatory of it.[120]

[476]On leaving the outer bank of the river our way led through a fine park-like plain, dotted with a few mimosas of middling size, and clear of underwood. The sides of the path were strewn with skeletons of horses, marking the line followed by the late expedition of the governor of Yóla, on its return from Lére, or the Mbána country. Having then entered upon cultivated ground, we reached the first cluster of huts of the large straggling village Chabajáure, or Chabajáule, situated in a most fertile and slightly undulating tract; and having kept along it for little less than a mile and a half, we took up our quarters in a solitary and secluded cluster of huts, including a very spacious courtyard.

It was a sign of warm hospitality that, although the whole caravan had fallen to the charge of a single household, sufficient quantities not only of “nyíro,” the common dish of Indian corn, but even of meat, were brought to us in the evening. While passing the village I had observed that all the corn on the fields was “geróri,” or Pennisetum (millet—dukhn), a kind of grain originally, it would seem, so strange to the Fúlbe, that they have not even a word of their own for it, having only modified a little the Háusa word “géro;” not a single blade of “baíri,” or sorghum,[477] was to be seen. The scarcity was less felt here than in the northern districts of the country, and we bought some grain for our horses as a supply for the next day.

Thursday, June 19th.We started early in the morning, continuing along the straggling hamlets and rich corn-fields of Chabajáule for a mile and a half, when we passed two slave villages, or “rúmde,” belonging to a rich Púllo, of the name of Hanúri. All the meadows were beautifully adorned with white violet-striped lilies. We then entered a wooded tract, ascending at the same time considerably on the hilly ground which juts out from the foot of mount Bágelé, and which allowed us a clearer view of the geological character of the mountain. Having again emerged from the forest upon an open, cultivated, and populous district, we passed the large village of Dulí, and having descended and reascended again we obtained a most beautiful view near the village Gúroré, which lies on rising ground, surrounded by a good many large monkey-bread trees, or bodóje (sing. bokki.) For from this elevated spot we enjoyed a prospect over the beautiful meadow lands sloping gently down towards the river, which from this spot is not much more than five miles distant, taking its course between Mounts Bengo and Bágelé, and washing the foot of the latter, but not visible to us. The country continued beautiful and pleasant, and was here enlivened by numerous herds of cattle, while in the villages which we had passed I had seen[478] none, as the Fúlbe drive their cattle frequently to very distant grazing grounds.

While marching along at a good pace, Mohámmedu walked up to me, and with a certain feeling of pride showed me his fields, “gashí gonakína.” Though a poor man, he was master of three slaves, a very small fortune in a conquered and newly colonized country like Ádamáwa, based entirely upon slavery, where many individuals have each more than a thousand slaves. I was greatly surprised to see here a remarkable specimen of a bokki or monkey-bread tree, branching off from the ground into three separate trunks; at least, I never remember to have seen anything like it, although the tree is the most common representative of the vegetable kingdom through the whole breadth of Central Africa. All the ground to the right of the path is inundated during the height of the flood.

We had now closely approached the Bágelé, the summit of which, though not very high, is generally enveloped in clouds, a fact which, when conveyed to me in the obscure language of the natives, had led me to the misconception while writing in Kúkawa my report of the provisional information I had obtained of the country whither I was about to proceed, that this mountain was of volcanic character. It seems to consist chiefly of granite, and has a very rugged surface, strewn with great irregular blocks, from between which trees shoot up. Nevertheless, stretching out to a length of several miles from S.S.E. to N.N.W.,[479] it contains a good many spots of arable land, which support eighteen little hamlets of independent pagans. These, protected by the inaccessible character of their strongholds, and their formidable double spears, have not only been able hitherto to repulse all the attacks which the proud Mohammedans, the centre of whose government is only a few miles distant, have made against them, but, descending from their haunts, commit almost daily depredations upon the cattle of their enemies.[121] One of their little hamlets, perched on the top of steep cliffs, we could plainly distinguish by the recently thatched roofs of the huts, the snow-white colour of which very conspicuously shone forth from the dark masses of the rock. The country was always gaining in interest as we advanced, the meadow-lands being covered with living creatures of every description, such as cattle, horses, asses, goats, and sheep, and we reached the easternmost cluster of huts of the large straggling village or district of[480] Ribáwo or Ribágo[122], stretching out on our left on a little rising ground. The district is not only rich in corn and pasturage, but also in fish, which are most plentiful in a large inlet or backwater, “illágul,” as it is called by the Fúlbe, branching off from the river along the north-east foot of the Bágelé, and closely approaching the village. In this shallow water the fish are easily caught.

Numbers of inquisitive people of every age and sex, gathered round us from the neighbouring hamlets; but while hovering round me and the camels with great delight, they behaved very decently and quietly. They followed us till we took up our quarters a little before ten o’clock, with a friend of Bíllama’s, in a large group of huts lying close to the path, and shaded by most luxuriant trees. Although there were several clean huts, I preferred the cool and ventilated entrance hall of the same description as I have mentioned above, and remained here even during the night, although a most terrible storm, which broke out at six o’clock in the evening, and lasted full four hours, flooded the whole ground, and rendered my resting-place rather too cool. I would advise other travellers not to follow my example during the rainy season, but rather to make themselves comfortable in the warm interior of a well protected hut.

In our last march through these rich low grounds, which are every year flooded by the river, I had not[481] observed the least traces of the cultivation of rice, for which they seem to be so marvellously adapted, the cultivation round Ribágo being almost exclusively limited to maiwa or maiwári, a peculiar species of sorghum called “matëa” in Kanúri. On inquiring why these people did not grow rice, I learnt that the Fúlbe hereabouts had all migrated from Bórnu after the downfall of their jemmára and dominion in that country, when not only were the new political intruders repulsed, but even the old settlers, who had been established in that country from very ancient times, were obliged to emigrate. In Bórnu, however, as I have had occasion to mention before, no rice is cultivated, so that these people, although at present established in regions where rice would probably succeed much better than millet and Indian corn, abstain entirely from its cultivation. On the other hand, in the western parts of Ádamáwa and in Hamárruwa, whither the Fúlbe have migrated from Háusa, rice is cultivated to a considerable extent. On a former occasion I have already touched on the question, whether rice be indigenous in Negroland or not. It has evidently been cultivated from time immemorial in the countries along the middle course of the Ísa, or Kwára, from Kébbi up to Gágho, or Gógó; but this might seem to be in consequence of a very ancient intercourse between those regions and Egypt, which I hope to be able to establish in the course of my narrative. It grows, however, wild in many parts, from the southern provinces of Bórnu, Bagírmi, and[482] Wadáy, as far north as el Haúdh and Bághena, on the border of the western desert.

Another important point of which I here became aware was, that the Bátta language, which, among the numerous languages of Ádamáwa, or rather Fúmbiná, is the most extensively spoken, has two very different dialects; for, being anxious to finish my small vocabulary of this language, which I had commenced in Kúkawa with the assistance of Mohámmedu, I soon found that the dialect spoken here differed considerably from that of which I had previously written specimens. The Bátta language, as I have stated above, is intimately related to the Marghí and Záni idiom, and bears several points of resemblance to the Músgu language, which is itself related to the various dialects of Kótoko. All these languages have some general points of affinity to the South African languages.

At present, however, the indigenous population is almost totally extinct in this district, which is exclusively inhabited by the conquerors, who have here found an abode remarkably suited to their mode of living. The whole place has not less than 6000 inhabitants.

Friday, June 20th.We started early in order to reach the capital, if possible, before noon, and passed through several hamlets, all belonging to the extensive village or district of Ribágo, and interrupted here and there by projecting masses of schistose rock, while the concavity between this rising ground and[483] Mount Bágelé was fast filling with the flood from the river, and presented already a considerable sheet of water. The country, after we had passed this populous district, became thickly wooded, which I had not expected to find so near the capital; and, on account of some ravines which intersect it, and of the neighbourhood of the inlet of the river, it certainly cannot afford a very easy passage towards the end of the rainy season. Here also the rock projects above the plain in many places.

About eight o’clock, when we had travelled round the south-western foot of Mount Bágelé, we passed through a number of small hamlets, which however did not exhibit any traces of cultivation, and then again entered upon a wild tract, while we obtained a glance at a picturesquely-seated place before us, which I unhesitatingly took for Yóla, but which proved to be a small village situated at a considerable distance from the capital. Before we reached it, we had to cross a sheet of water nearly five feet deep, and called by my companions “Máyo Bínti,” which caused us a great deal of trouble and delay, and wetted almost all my luggage. The water, which at present had no current, skirts the foot of the rocky slope on which the village is situated, the name of which is Yebbórewó. Here our camels created an extraordinary interest, and a great many women, although we did not attend to their wish to stop, managed to pass under the bellies of these tall creatures, in the hope of obtaining their blessing, as they thought them sacred animals.

[484]Having kept along the rising ground, and passed several little hamlets adorned with monkey-bread trees, we had to cross very difficult swampy ground, which, a little later in the season, must be avoided by a long circuit. Two months later Mount Bágelé must look almost like an island, so surrounded is it on all sides by deep inlets and swamps. The detached cone of Mount Takabéllo, rising to a height of about a thousand feet above the plain, for some time formed a conspicuous object in front of us on our winding path, till at length, a little before noon, we reached the outskirts of the capital in a state of mind not exempt from anxious feeling.

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[485]CHAP. XXXVI.

MY RECEPTION IN YÓLA. — SHORT STAY. — DISMISSAL.

At length I had reached the capital of Ádamáwa, having had altogether a very lucky and successful journey; but now all depended upon the manner in which I should be received in this place: for although it was quite enough to have successfully penetrated so far, after having discovered and crossed the upper course of that large river, about the identity of which with the Chadda there could be little doubt, I entertained the hope that I might be allowed to penetrate further south, and investigate at least part of the basin of the river. I had heard so much about the fertile character of those regions, that I was intensely desirous to see something of them.

It was an unfavourable circumstance that we arrived on a Friday, and just during the heat of the day. The streets were almost deserted; and no person met us in order to impart to us, by a friendly welcome, a feeling of cheerfulness and confidence.

Yóla is a large open place, consisting, with a few exceptions, of conical huts surrounded by spacious courtyards, and even by corn-fields, the houses of the governor and those of his brothers being alone built[486] of clay. Keeping along the principal street, we continued our march for a mile and a quarter before we reached the house of the governor, which lies on the west side of a small open area, opposite the mosque, a flat oblong building, or rather hall, inclosed with clay walls, and covered with a flat thatched roof a little inclined on one side. Having reached this place, my companions fired a salute, which, considering the nature of Bíllama’s mission, and the peculiar character of the governor, which this officer ought to have known, and perhaps also since it happened to be Friday, was not very judicious.

Be this as it may, the courtiers or attendants of the governor, attracted by the firing, came out one after another, and informed us that their master must go to the mosque and say his mid-day prayers[123] before he could attend to us or assign us quarters. We therefore dismounted and sat down in the scanty shade of a jéja or caoutchouc-tree, which adorns the place between the palace and the mosque, while a great number of people, amounting to several hundreds, gradually collected, all eager to salute me and shake hands with me. Fortunately, it was not long before Lowel came out from his palace and went into the mosque; and[487] then I obtained a few moments’ respite, the people all following him, with the exception of the young ones, who very luckily found the camels a worthier object of their curiosity than me. It had been my intention to salute the governor when he was crossing the place, but I was advised not to do so, as it might interfere with his devotional feelings.

The prayer was short; and when it was over I was surrounded by much larger numbers than before, and, being fatigued and hungry, I felt greatly annoyed by the endless saluting and shaking of hands. At length we were ordered to take up our quarters in the house of Ardo Ghámmawa, a brother of our fellow-traveller Ibrahíma; but this being close to the east end of the town, we were not much pleased with the arrangement, as it not only obliged us for the moment to return the whole way we had come, but also for the future deprived us of an unreserved and friendly intercourse with the governor. This was not calculated to inspire us with confidence as to the success of our proceedings.

It was past two o’clock in the afternoon when at length I reached my quarters and took possession of a large, well-ventilated, and neat “záure,” or hall, the walls of which were all painted. In the inner courtyard there was also a very neat and snug little hut, but that was all, and we had great trouble in obtaining quarters for Bú-Sʿad and the mʿallem in some of the neighbouring courtyards. I felt rather fatigued[488] and not quite at my ease, and therefore could not much enjoy a dish of an extremely good pudding of bairi or sorghum, with excellent clear butter, and a large bowl of milk; but nevertheless, although a storm, accompanied with much rain, broke out in the evening and rendered the air rather humid, I remained the whole night where I was, instead of retiring into the well-protected though rather sultry hut.

Saturday, June 21st.In the morning I selected my presents for the governor, the principal part of which consisted of a very handsome red cloth bernús, which we had found among the things left by the late Mr. Richardson; but when we were ready to go we received the information that Lowel was in his fields, and that we could not see him. Meanwhile I received a visit from an Arab from the far distant west, with whom I had made acquaintance in Kúkawa, and who had given me some very valuable information. It was El Mukhtár, of the tribe of the Idésan in Bághena, who had previously paid a visit to Ádamáwa, and was well acquainted with the country. It is always very pleasant for a traveller to meet another roving spirit somewhere again, particularly in a country like Central Africa. Having acknowledged his visit by the gift of a knife and a little frankincense, I presented our host, the Ardo Ghámmawa, with a fine “ríga gíwa” (an “elephant-shirt”)—that is to say, one of those enormous wide black shirts made only in Núpe, and which was one of the few articles which I had been[489] able to provide in Kanó for the furtherance of my plans. The family of the Ardo had formerly been settled in Ghámmawa, in the south-western province of Bórnu, but, when the Fúlbe were driven back from that country, emigrated and settled here. But this man still bears the title “Ardo Ghámmawa”—“the mayor of (the Fúlbe community of) Ghámmawa.”

Having been told that the governor had returned to his palace, we mounted on horseback about ten o’clock, and, preceded by the Ardo Ghámmawa, returned the long way to the lamórde or palace; but after waiting on the damp ground, exposed to the sun for more than an hour, we were told that we could not see him, and were obliged to return with our present. I was greatly vexed, and felt, in consequence, my fever increasing, especially as another very heavy storm broke out in the afternoon, when the air became quite chilly. However, I was somewhat cheered by making acquaintance in the afternoon with an Arab from Mokha, of the name of Mohammed ben Áhmed, who styled himself sheríf, most probably rather pleonastically; but, apart from such pretension, he was an amiable and most interesting man, who had travelled for many years over the whole eastern coast of the continent between Mombása and Sofála. He was the first to satisfy my curiosity with a description of the celebrated Lake Nyassa as an eye-witness. He had even visited Bombay and Madras.

[490]Sunday, June 22nd.In consequence of the information received from Ardo Ghámmawa that to-day we were certainly to see the governor, we got ready at an early hour, taking with us also a present for his brother Mansúr, who had made himself expressly a candidate for a present, by sending me, the day before, a small pot of honey. While we were passing his house, he was coming out to pay his respects to his brother. We made a short halt and exchanged compliments with him; and when, on reaching the area before the governor’s house, we had dismounted and were sitting down in the shade of the tree, he walked most benignly and frankly up, and sat down in front of me. We then entered the palace; and having waited a short time in the segífa or záure, which here was formed by a spacious flat-roofed room supported by massive square pillars, we were called into the presence of the governor.

Mohammed Lowel[124], son of Mʿallem Ádama, was sitting in a separate hall, built of clay, and forming, for this country, quite a noble mansion. From without especially, it has a stately, castle-like appearance, while inside, the hall was rather encroached upon by quadrangular pillars two feet in diameter, which supported the roof, about[491] sixteen feet high, and consisting of a rather heavy entablature of poles, in order to withstand the violence of the rains. The governor was very simply dressed, and had nothing remarkable in his appearance, while his face, which was half-covered by a somewhat dirty shawl, had an indifferent expression. Besides him there were none present but Mansúr and a mʿallem.

Having, as the first European that had ever visited his country with the distinct purpose to enter into friendly relations with him, paid him my respects on behalf of my countrymen, I delivered my letter of introduction from Sheikh ʿOmár, who in a few but well-chosen lines introduced me to him as a learned and pious Christian, who wandered about to admire the works of the Almighty Creator, and on this account cherished an ardent desire to visit also Ádamáwa, of the wonders of which I had heard so much. Lowel read it, and evidently not quite displeased with its contents, although he took umbrage at some of the expressions, handed it silently over to the mʿallem and Mansúr. Hereupon Bíllama delivered his letters, of which not only the contents, but even the very existence had been totally unknown to me. They were three in number, one from the sheikh himself, one from Malá Ibrám, the former possessor of the southern province of Bórnu, and one from Kashélla ʿAli Déndal, or Ladán, the officer who by his late predatory incursion had given grounds for complaint.

As soon as these various letters were read, all of[492] which laid claim, on the side of Bórnu, to the territory of Kófa and Kóbchi, a storm arose, and in a fit of wrath Lowel reproached my companion with daring to come forward with such pretensions—he, who was himself well-acquainted with the country and with the point in dispute. If Sheikh ʿOmár wished for discord, well: he was ready; and they would harass each other’s frontier-provinces by reciprocal incursions. Having given vent to his feelings towards Bíllama, his anger turned upon me; and he told me to my face that I had quite different reasons for coming into his country from those stated in Sheikh ʿOmár’s letter; referring to some ambiguous words in Malá Ibrám’s writing, in which that officer stated “that, with regard to me, the objects of my journey to Ádamáwa were a perfect secret to him.” Now I must confess, after all my acquaintance with the politics of these people, and notwithstanding all Háj Beshír’s kindness and benevolence towards me, that I think the Bórnu diplomatists quite capable of a little double dealing; that is to say, I suspect that they were willing to make use of me to frighten the governor of Ádamáwa. Perhaps also they were afraid lest, if I should succeed in Ádamáwa, I might not return to their country. I shall have to mention similar circumstances on my journey to Bagírmi. Viewing matters in this light, I wrote from Kúkawa, requesting Her Majesty’s government to inform the sheikh of Bórnu that it was their distinct desire that we should penetrate onwards, and that he would confer an obligation[493] upon them by facilitating the execution of our plans.

Be this as it may, after a long dispute with regard to the boundaries, in which my friend from Mokha, and a learned native of Wadáy, Móde ʿAbd Alláhi, who was employed by Lowel as a sort of secretary of state for foreign affairs, took part, I, with my party, was ordered to withdraw for a time. After sitting for full two hours on the damp ground outside, we received an intimation that we might return home. Thus I had to return with my presents a second time to my quarters; and of course I was greatly vexed. However, several people who saw my emotion endeavoured to console me; and Mansúr, who before we left came out of his brother’s audience-hall, entered into conversation with me, and assured me that this unkind treatment in no way related to me, but that it was only intended for Bíllama, the officer of Bórnu. There was present also the very amiable mʿallem whom I had met in Saráwu Fulfúlde, and who had come after us; and I felt sorry that I was not disposed to answer his well-meant discourse in the manner it deserved.

When we reached Mansúr’s house, he invited us to dismount, and entering the interior of his wide and neat dwelling we had a long and animated conversation, when I explained to him in a deliberate manner that such treatment did not offend me on my own account, but on account of the government—the very first and most powerful in the world—which had sent[494] me; that instead of coming with hostile intentions, as was imputed to me, I had come with the friendly design of paying my respects to the governor on behalf of the British sovereign, and to present him with a few specimens of our products and manufactures; that I had, no doubt, at the same time an intense desire to see their country, as it was the avowed purpose of Europeans in general, and of the English in particular, to become acquainted, and to open intercourse, with all parts of God’s creation.

Mansúr explained to me, in return, that they well knew that I had not come to make war upon them, although Lowel, in the first fit of his anger, scarcely seemed to suspect anything less than that, “but that they were vexed because I had come to them under the protection of the Bórnu people, their enemies.” A letter from the sultan of Stambúl, or even from my own sovereign, would have recommended me much more advantageously. The sheikh had expressly designated me as one recommended and protected by the Porte, and Bú-Sʿad had mentioned, with a slight disregard of the real facts, that through inadvertence only I had left both letters, as well that from the sultan of Stambúl, as from the English sovereign, in Kúkawa. Now I certainly had with me a treaty written in Arabic, such as it was desirable that the governor of Ádamáwa should subscribe; but to produce this under existing circumstances would have been absurd, especially as it did not emanate directly from the Government, and was not authenticated,[495] either by seal or in any other way, and I thought it better not to mention it. It was no bad policy on the part of Bú-Sʿad to represent me as sent on a special mission by the British government to the Fúlbe princes, and as obliged only by the death of my companion to deviate from my intended course, in order to supply his place in Kúkawa.

Meanwhile it was past mid-day; and after a stormy night the sun shone forth with overpowering force, while we sat all the while in an open courtyard without the least protection. On reaching my quarters, I was so exhausted and ill that I thought I could do nothing better than take without delay a powerful emetic, after which I felt much better, but rather weak. Having somewhat restored my spirits by a conversation with Mohammed ben Áhmed, I retired into the close hut, and had a sound sleep.

Monday having passed quietly, with the exception of a great many people calling for “laiya” or charms, and for medicines, Tuesday the 24th arrived, when it was my destiny to leave this country, which I had but just entered, and to retrace my steps over the long and infested road which I had lately travelled.

I felt tolerably well in the morning, but afterwards became very ill, and unfortunately took too weak a dose of medicine. In this state I had a visit from two very handsome and amiable young Fúlbe, and in my rather morose mood refused their urgent request, made in the most simple and confidential way, to say[496] the “fat-ha,” or the opening prayer of the Kurán, with them. I have always regretted my refusal, as it estranged from me a great many people; and although many Christians will object to repeat the prayer of another creed, yet the use of a prayer of so general an import as the introductory chapter to the Kurán ought to be permitted to every solitary traveller in these regions, in order to form a sort of conciliatory link between him and the natives.

After some other visitors had come and gone, I received, about ten o’clock, a formal visit from Móde ʿAbd-Alláhi, the foreign secretary, and my friend from Mokha, in the name of the governor. Having moistened their organs with a cup of coffee, they acquitted themselves of their message in the following terms, “The sultan”—all these provincial governors bear the title of sultan—“had ordered them,” they said, “to beg me to accept his most respectful regards, and to inform me that he was nothing but a slave of the sultan of Sókoto, and that I was a far greater man than himself. As such a man had never before come to his country, he was afraid of his liege lord, and begged me to retrace my steps whither I had come; but if in course of time I should return with a letter from Sókoto, he would receive me with open arms, would converse with me about all our science, and about our instruments, without reserve, and would show me the whole country.”

To this message, which was certainly couched in very modest and insinuating terms, I answered that[497] Mohammed Lowel, so far from being a slave of the sultan of Sókoto, was renowned far and wide as the almost independent governor of a large province; that the fame of his father Ádama, as a nobly-born, learned Púllo, extended far and wide throughout Tekrúr, or Negroland, and had even reached our own country; that it was absurd to argue that I was greater than himself, and that on this account he could not receive me on his own responsibility, but was obliged to refer my suit to his liege lord in Sókoto.[125] I brought forward the examples of Kátsena and Kanó, especially the latter place, in which, though it was the seat of a governor dependent on the Emír el Múmenín, in the same way as the governor of Ádamáwa, I had long resided, without any representations being made to the sovereign lord. “Oh! but the relations of Kátsena and Kanó,” said the messengers of the governor, “are entirely different from those of this province. These are large and busy thoroughfares for all the world, while Ádamáwa is a distant territory in the remotest corner of the earth, and still a fresh, unconsolidated conquest.” There was certainly some truth in this last remark; and whatever I might say to the contrary, the question was decided, and all reasoning was in vain.

The two messengers having gone through their business in this way, informed me that they were[498] only the forerunners of the real messenger, Mansúr, the brother of the governor. This was very pleasant news to me; and although, after this shock of disappointment, I felt extremely ill and weak, I rose from my couch, and went to receive Mansúr, when he arrived at the door of the hut. He then officially, and in a very feeling manner, confirmed all that Móde ʿAbd-Alláhi and the sheríf Mohammed had said, and expressed his deep regret that I was not allowed to stay. When he was going, I handed to his servants the little present destined for him, which consisted of twenty-five drʿa of striped Manchester, a pair of English razors, scissors, a looking-glass, a parcel of cloves, a little jáwi, or benzoin, and a small piece of camphor.

Mansúr had been gone a little while when I received information that the governor had sent me a horse and two slaves as a present, with the intimation that I might likewise let him have the present which I had brought with me for him. But this I refused to do, declaring that I could not, under the present circumstances, either accept from him or give him anything, not having come as a merchant to barter with him, but as the messenger of another powerful sovereign, to treat with him on friendly terms. My servant, Bú-Sʿad, who, in the covetousness of his heart, already fancied himself in the possession of the two slaves, whom he knew well I myself could not accept, but whom he thought I would give up to him, went so far as to declare that as the present had come from[499] my sovereign I had no alternative but to bestow it. But seeing that I was firm, the messengers went away, and soon after a horseman arrived with the order for me to leave the town instantly.

Meanwhile, during all this negotiation and dispute, I had become extremely weak, and the excitement had brought on a very severe fit of fever. Indeed I scarcely thought that I should be able to sit on horseback, and to bear the sun, it being then just noon, and the sun shining forth with great power. Nevertheless I got my things ready; but having left my quarters a little too soon, and being obliged to wait some time for the other people, I became so weak that I could no longer keep on my feet, but lay down on the ground till my companions arrived. Sitting then firmly in my large Arab stirrups, and holding on to the pommel, I proceeded; and though I fainted twice, I soon regained some strength, a slight breeze having arisen, which greatly mitigated the burning heat.

Numbers of people accompanied me, expressing their grief and sorrow at my abrupt departure. By my refusing to write laiya, or to say the fat-ha, I had estranged many a friendly-disposed native, and by my obstinacy I had incurred the displeasure of their master; yet many of the people openly disapproved of his conduct towards me.

An immense quantity of rain having fallen during my stay here, the country appeared to me much more beautiful now than when we came, and full of fine[500] cattle; and I felt so refreshed that I considered myself able to go as far as Ribágo, a ride of six hours, at a slow rate.

Bíllama behaved exceedingly well; for when my treacherous servant Bú-Sʿad, who was afraid lest Mohammed Lowel should wreak his anger upon me on the road, intimated to him, that “if anything of that sort should happen, they of course were Moslemín”—thus indicating that they could not defend me against those of their own creed, but should leave me to my fate,—he indignantly left his company and rode up to me. Thus, without any accident, except that all my luggage was once more wetted through while passing the deep water of the máyo Bínti, we reached the friendly village, where without ceremony I took up my quarters in the well-known courtyard of our former host. But, before proceeding further on my journey back, I must try to make the reader better acquainted with the country, though the abrupt way in which I was obliged to leave it allows me only, in most cases, to speak from the information of the natives.

Yóla is the capital of an extensive province, called by foreigners generally, and by the conquering Fúlbe in diplomatic language, Ádamáwa, but the real name of which is Fúmbiná. Indeed Ádamáwa is quite a new name given to the country (exactly as I stated in my report sent to Europe some years ago) in honour of Mʿallem Ádama, the father of the present governor, who succeeded in founding here a new Mohammedan[501] empire on the ruins of several smaller pagan kingdoms, the most considerable of which was that of Kókomi. Whether what the people used to say be true, that the name of the wife of this officer was Ádama too, I am not able positively to decide.[126]

Yóla is quite a new settlement, called by this name after the princely quarter of the town of Kanó,—the former capital, of which Denham’s expedition heard some faint report, being Gúrin. Yóla is situated in a swampy plain, and is bordered on the north side by an inlet of the river, the inundation of which reaches close to that quarter where I was living. The town is certainly not less than three miles long from east to west. It seems probable that there are different names for the different quarters; but my stay was too short to allow me to learn them. The courtyards are large and spacious, but often contain only a single hut, the whole area being sown with grain during the rainy season. All the huts are built with clay walls on account of the violence of the rains, and are tolerably high. Only the governor and his elder brothers possess large establishments with dwellings built entirely of clay. Notwithstanding its size, the place can hardly contain more than twelve thousand inhabitants.

It has no industry; and the market, at least during the time of my stay there, was most insignificant and[502] miserably supplied: but certainly during the season of field labours, as I have already had occasion to observe, all the markets in Negroland are less important than at other times of the year. The most common objects in the market, which find ready sale, are túrkedí, beads, and salt[127], while other articles, such as striped Manchester, calico, cloth bernúses, are generally sold privately to the wealthier people. The only articles of export at present are slaves and ivory. Four good túrkedí, bought in Kanó for 1800 or 2000 kurdí each, will generally purchase a slave; and a túrkedí will often buy an elephant’s tusk of tolerable size.

Slavery exists on an immense scale in this country; and there are many private individuals who have more than a thousand slaves. In this respect the governor of the whole province is not the most powerful man, being outstripped by the governors of Chámba and Kóncha—for this reason, that Mohammed Lowel has all his slaves settled in rúmde or slave-villages, where they cultivate grain for his use or profit, while the above-mentioned officers, who obtain all their provision in corn from subjected pagan tribes, have their whole host of slaves constantly at their[503] disposal; and I have been assured that some of the head slaves of these men have as many as a thousand slaves each under their command, with whom they undertake occasional expeditions for their masters. I have been assured also that Mohammed Lowel receives every year in tribute, besides horses and cattle, about five thousand slaves, though this seems a large number.

The country of Fúmbiná is about two hundred miles long in its greatest extent, running from south-west to north-east, while its shortest diameter seems to reach from north-west to south-east, and scarcely ever exceeds seventy or eighty miles; but this territory is as yet far from being entirely subjected to the Mohammedan conquerors, who in general are only in possession of detached settlements, while the intermediate country, particularly the more mountainous tracts, are still in the hands of the pagans. The people in this part of the country are engaged in constant warfare. While the country north from the Bénuwé, between Yóla and Hamárruwa, is entirely independent, and inhabited by warlike pagan tribes, the best-subjected tract seems to be that between the Wándalá and the Músgu country, where the settlements of the conquering tribe are very compact. I must observe, however, that I am not quite clear as to the exact manner in which those distant settlements are dependent on the governor of Ádamáwa. That part of the country seems to deserve a great deal of interest, and to be[504] destined to become a province by itself. It is sometimes designated by the special name of “Jemmára,” a name certainly of general import, and meaning nothing but “the congregation”—a corruption, in short, of Jemmáʿa.

The country is certainly one of the finest of Central Africa, irrigated as it is by numerous rivers, among which the Bénuwé and the Fáro are the most important, and being diversified with hill and dale. In general, however, it is flat, rising gradually towards the south, from an elevation[128] of about eight hundred feet, along the middle course of the Bénuwé, to fifteen hundred feet or more, and broken by separate hills or more extensive groups of mountains; but, as far as I know, there is not here a single example of large mountain masses. Mount Alantíka, of which I had a fine view from several points, though at a considerable distance, is considered as the most massive and elevated mountain in the whole country; and this is an entirely detached mountain, at the utmost fifty miles in circumference, and elevated certainly not more than eight thousand five hundred or nine thousand feet above the plain from which it rises. No doubt the Bénuwé may be presumed to have its sources in a mountainous tract of country;[505] but of the uppermost course of this river I was not able to obtain the least information, while have been able to lay down its lower course with great approximative certainty.[129] Yet, although the elevation of the country is in general the same, the nature of the different districts varies greatly: thus in Chámba, apparently on account of the neighbourhood of Mount Alantíka, which attracts the clouds, the rainy season is said to set in as early as January, so that by the end of April or beginning of May the first crop is ripe, while in Yóla, and in the country in general, the rains rarely begin before March.

The grain most commonly grown in the country is Holcus sorghum; but in this respect also there is a great difference between the districts. Thus, the country of the Mbúm round Ngáundere scarcely produces anything but rógo, or yams, which form the daily, and almost sole food of the inhabitants. Meat is so dear there that a goat will often fetch the price of a female slave. Ground-nuts (Arachis hypogæa) are plentiful both in the eastern and the western districts. A tolerable quantity of cotton, called “póttolo” in Ádamáwa, is cultivated; but indigo or “chachári” is very rare, and is hardly cultivated anywhere but in Saráwu and Máruwa; and this is very natural, as the Fúlbe do not value coloured shirts.

[506]With regard to exuberance of vegetation, Tibáti seems to be one of the richest places; there both kinds of the banana, or ayabáje, the gonda, or papaya, “dukúje,” several species of the gúro tree, the Pandanus, the Kajilia, the monkey-bread tree, or Adansonia, the “rími,” or Bombax, and numerous other kinds are found. Of the palm tribe, the deléb-palm, or gigiña, and the Elaïs Guineensis, are frequent, but strictly limited to certain localities, while the date-tree (called by the Fúlbe of Ádamáwa by the beautiful name “tannedaráje[130]”) is very rare, and, except a few specimens in Yóla and Búndang, scarcely to be met with. Among the bushes, the Palma Christi, or Ricinus, is extremely common. Altogether, the predominant tree in the southern provinces of Ádamáwa seems to be the banana. There are hot springs in the country of the Bakr Yemyem, about three days south from Kóncha, which are said to issue from the west foot of a mountain stretching from east to west, and to have a very high temperature; the water is reported to be palatable.

Of animals, the elephant is exceedingly frequent, not only the black or grey, but also a yellow species. The rhinoceros is often met with, but only in the eastern part of the country. East from the Bénuwé the wild bull is very common. The most singular animal seems to be the ayú, which lives in the river,[507] and in some respects resembles the seal[131]; it comes out of the river in the night, and feeds on the fresh grass growing on its banks.

With regard to domestic animals, cattle were evidently introduced by the Fúlbe some two or three hundred years ago. There is an indigenous variety of ox, but quite a distinct species, not three feet high, and of dark-grey colour; this is called máturú. The native horse is small and feeble; the best horses are brought from the northern districts, chiefly from Úba.

I now proceed to mention the names of the most powerful Fúlbe governors of the country, to which I shall subjoin a list of the native tribes, over which the conquerors are gradually extending their sway, and which they may even partially succeed in exterminating. Of those who are bound to the governor of Ádamáwa in due allegiance—that is to say, who send him a certain present and assist him in his warlike expeditions, the governors of Chámba and Kóncha take the first rank. The present governor of Chámba, Ámba (properly Mohammed) Sámbo, who is now a very old man, has made himself extremely famous by his daring and distant expeditions, and more especially that to the Íbo country and to Mbáfu, which he undertook three years ago, and through which he has[508] succeeded in extending not only the influence, but even the dominion of the conquerors, in a certain degree, as far as the Bight of Benín. I have some reason to suspect that it was partly owing to this expedition, which brought the Fúlbe into contact with tribes on the coast, who, on account of their dress, furniture, and many of their customs, were regarded by them as Christians, that Mohammed Lowel looked upon my presence with distrust; for there were still some hundreds of slaves of those so-called Christian tribes scattered over Ádamáwa. Mohammed dan Jóbdi also, the governor of Kóncha, has made some very interesting expeditions, the itineraries of some of which I shall give in the Appendix.

More powerful certainly than these two, and in a state of quasi-dependence on the governor of Yóla only, though at present in open hostility with him, is Búba, the governor of Búbanjídda. The name of this province also is entirely new, and is formed in a very remarkable way, being compounded of the name of the conqueror himself (Búba) and of that of his mother (Jídda). Búbanjídda is an extensive province, including the districts on the upper course of the Bénuwé; and its capital is called Ray-Búba. The governor is so powerful that, having in vain solicited the Emír el Múmenín, his sovereign lord, to make him a chief vassal, like the governor of Hamárruwa, so as to be independent of the governor of Ádamáwa, he has placed himself in open opposition to both. It is also very remarkable that Ray-Búba (that is[509] to say, the town which at present bears this name) was, with the exception of Tibáti, the only walled town which the Fúlbe found in the country; and it took them three months of continual fighting to get possession of it. I have already mentioned, in another place, that this country produces the best sort of iron; and it is not improbable that the more warlike spirit of its inhabitants, the Dáma, is in some degree connected with this circumstance.

Less powerful than the three governors just mentioned, but nevertheless mighty vassals, and most of them valiant champions of the faith, are the following chiefs: Bákari (properly Bú-Bakr), governor of Ribágo, north from Búbanjídda; Ardo Badéshi, governor of the territories of the Falí; Mʿallem Sudé, governor of Holma; Mʿallem Hámma, governor of Song; the governor of Súmmo[132]; Mahmúd, governor of Kílba; Mʿallem Dáuraka, governor of the large settlement of Máruwa or Marba; Mʿallem Yúsufa, the pious old governor of Bínder; Mʿallem Ádama, the dashing governor of Agúrma in the territory of the Dáma; Ardo ʿOmáro, seignior of Sabóngi, near Búbanjídda; Mʿallem Mústafa, the pious old lord of Míndif; Ardo Gári, the energetic and learned master of Bógo, whose people joined the Bórnu army on the expedition to Músgu which I shall describe in the succeeding volume; the lord of Kafta-Báudi; Húrsu, or Khúrsu, master of Pédde or Fétte.

The dominion of the Fúlbe is generally centred in[510] single settlements, which are of various descriptions, comprising not only large towns, where a numerous host of these intruders, and a powerful chief, reside, but also more private settlements, such as country seats of governors, “ribádo” or “ribágo;” seats of mere petty chiefs, or “jóro;” farm villages, or “úro;” slave villages, or “rúmde.” But the Fúlbe are continually advancing, as they have not to do with one strong enemy, but with a number of small tribes without any bond of union. It remains to be seen whether it be their destiny to colonize this fine country for themselves, or in the course of time to be disturbed by the intrusion of Europeans. It is difficult to decide how a Christian government is to deal with these countries, where none but Mohammedans maintain any sort of government. It cannot be denied that they alone here succeed in giving to distant regions a certain bond of unity, and in making the land more accessible to trade and intercourse.

The most numerous among the native tribes, as I have already stated above, are the Bátta, whose prince, Kókomi, was previous to the conquest of the Fúlbe the most powerful chief in the country. They are divided into several great families, speaking also various dialects, which in some cases differ from each other very widely, and are closely related to the Marghí.[133] Many of the names of their districts serve[511] to designate the territories as well as the tribes settled in them, of which several are still entirely independent of the Fúlbe.

The Bátta inhabit not only all the country on the middle course of the Bénuwé and along the Fáro for some distance beyond Mount Alantíka, but also the whole region north from these rivers as far as the southern boundaries of Bórnu. It is in their language that the river has received the name Bé-noë, or Bé-nuwé, meaning “the Mother of Waters.”

The tribe which ranks next in numbers and importance is the Falí, settled between the upper course of the Bénuwé and the southern provinces of Bagírmi, of whose families and territories (the same name generally indicating both) I learnt the following names: Safaláwa, Yamyam (probably not an original name), Gidér, Débba; Múndam, with the chief place Lére, the residence of the powerful pagan prince (kówa) Gónshomé; Mámbay, Dáma, Láme, Láka, Durú, Nánigí, not far east from Chámba, and Bóka. Their idiom seems to be quite distinct from that of[512] the Bátta; but it shows some affinity with other neighbouring tongues.[134] Among the few people belonging to this tribe with whom I came into contact, I observed some of very light colour. Then follow the Mbúm, living to the south from the Bátta and south-west from the Falí, and partly subjected, the Fúlbe conquerors being principally established in the place called Ngáundere. There is another large place, called Bére. As separate divisions of the Mbúm, I learnt the names of the Máiwa, Wúna, and Buté. South-east from the Mbúm live the Yángeré, and still further on in that direction the Báya. In what relation the Chámba, after whom the large place at the southern foot of Mount Alantíka is called, stand to the above-named tribes, I cannot say. The Chámba are said to have driven from these seats the Kóttofo, who dwell at present further south. Then there are several other tribes, ranked by my informants as separate nations, the independence or relation of which to the rest I am not able to determine, as I have not obtained specimens of their languages. These are the Holma, the Zummáwa, the Gudá, the Kílba, Honá, Búza, the Bá, Múchelár, Hína, Búla, Múkubá[135], all of whom live in the mountainous region to the south-west from Mount Míndif, and no doubt are partially cognate[513] with other tribes; but in order to group them it is necessary to collect specimens of their languages.

Around Ádamáwa, partly within, partly beyond its boundaries, but in a certain degree of subjection, are the following tribes: the Tikár (by this name at least they are called by the Fúlbe, though they have, probably, another name for themselves, as by this they do not seem to be known near the coast[136]), the Yétem, the Dókaka, the Batí, a tribe of rather light colour, the Dáka, the Wére, the Díngding (partly armed with muskets, and regarded by the Fúlbe as Christians), the Mbáfu. Then the Wága, the Yángur, and the Róba. With most of these tribes the reader will be brought into nearer contact by the itineraries subjoined in the Appendix, where I shall have occasion to add a few remarks with regard to information obtained by Europeans near the coast. Here, however, it will be not without interest to compare with this list of tribes the following list of languages spoken in Ádamáwa which Mohámmedu gave me: Battanchi[137]; Damanchi, the idiom spoken in the province of Búbanjídda; Falanchi; Bumanchi, or perhaps more correctly Mbumanchi, the language of the Mbúm and of the people of Báya; Butanchi; Tekarchi; Mundanchi;[514] Marghanchi[138]; Kilbanchi; Yangurchi; Gudanchi; Chambanchi; Kotofanchi; Weranchi; Duranchi; Wokanchi; Toganchi; Lekamchi; Parparchi; Kankamchi; Nyangeyárechi; Musganchi[138]; Mandaranchi[138], or rather “Ára Wándalá”; Gizaganchi; Rumanchi; Giderchi; Dabanchi; Hinanchi; Muturwanchi; Zinanchi; Zaninchi; Momoyëenchi; Faninchi, the idiom of Fani, the dominion of Hajji Ghálebu; Nyaganchi; Dewanchi; Lallanchi; Doganchi; Longodanchi.[139]

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[515]CHAP. XXXVII.

MY JOURNEY HOME FROM ÁDAMÁWA.

Having made these few remarks with regard to the interesting work of conquest and colonization which is going on in Ádamáwa, I now return to my quarters in Ribágo, in order to carry the reader with me on my journey back from that country to Kúkawa.

Wednesday, June 25th.Our luggage had been so wetted on the preceding afternoon, while crossing the máyo Bínti, that we were obliged to stay in Ribágo the whole morning, in order to dry it. The horseman who had escorted me out of the town had returned; and in his stead Ibrahíma, with a companion on foot, had made his appearance with orders from the governor to escort me to the very frontiers of the country. In order to render him a more sociable companion, I thought it well to make him a present of a túrkedí. My mʿallem had not come along with us; and I could not be angry with him for not desiring to return to Kúkawa, where he had been detained against his will. The horse on which I had mounted him he had well deserved for his trouble. Ibrahíma told me that Katúri had come after me as[516] far as Yébborewó, thinking that I would pass the night there, but that the governor would not let him go further.

Before starting in the afternoon, I made our landlady, the wife of the Ardo of Ribágo, very happy by a few presents, as an acknowledgment of her hospitality in having twice entertained us in her house. After a short march of a few miles, we took up our quarters for the night in Duló, where the landlord, who a few days ago had been deprived of his office of mayor, received us at first rather unkindly, but afterwards assigned me a splendid hut, where the ganga or large drum, the ensign of his former authority, was still hanging from the wall. I was greatly in want of rest, and was obliged to keep my head always wet, and to abstain entirely from food.

Thursday, June 26th.I thought we should certainly cross the Bénuwé to-day; but, as if in defiance of the governor of the country, Bíllama desired to move on as slowly as possible, and took us to our well-known quarters in Chabajáure. But this slow progress was certainly better for me, as I had this day arrived at a crisis, and was dreadfully weak. Taking small doses of quinine the whole of the afternoon, I strengthened myself for the next day’s work, when after five miles’ march we reached the Tépe.

Friday, June 27th.The Fáro had only risen a little more than twenty inches since the 18th—that is to say, two inches and a half per day; nevertheless we had great difficulty in fording it. The Bénuwé had[517] risen more rapidly; and of course in July both rivers rise at a very different rate. When the rainy season is at its height, the sandy beach of the headland at the junction is almost completely under water; and this was the case with our old place of embarkation on the northern bank of the Bénuwé, so that I was obliged to creep up the steep bank.

In order to withstand the fatigue, I continued taking quinine the whole day long, and was glad when in the evening we reached Sulléri, where, to my astonishment, we were this time exceedingly well received. The mayor of the place would not allow me to start the following day, although my camels were already laden, and a beautiful fine morning invited us to travel. After a good deal of resistance I at length gave way to his entreaties, under the condition that he would construct for me a cool shed wherein to spend the heat of the day; and in twenty minutes a lofty hall had risen from the earth. Thus I spent the day very comfortably; and although I was unable to alleviate the pains suffered by my host from an arrow-wound in one of his eyes, or to give him a charm to prevent the death of his cattle, I was so fortunate as to effect a splendid cure on one of his sons, which procured me great fame.

Saturday, June 29th.On leaving Sulléri in the morning, we took a different route from that previously traversed, and which proved infinitely more interesting, although in the morning, after we had passed a small farm-village where all the field-labourers were[518] at work, we had to cross a very extensive forest, and I became greatly exhausted. Having passed about noon several villages, which proved to be all slave-villages with the exception of one, which contained a lord’s mansion of neat appearance, suddenly the character of the country changed entirely, and we came to a wide depression or hollow, from one hundred to one hundred and twenty feet deep, which, winding round on our left, formed a fine green vale, bordered on the other side by a picturesque cone[140] rising abruptly, and forming on the east side a wooded terrace, while on the west it displayed a steep bare rocky flank of horizontal strata, and on this side, after a small interruption, a low ridge attached to it encircling the hollow on all sides.

Having reached the south-eastern foot of the cone by a gradual ascent, we obtained a view over the varied and rich scenery before us, a luxuriant mass of vegetation broken at intervals by comfortable-looking little[519] hamlets, and bounded in the distance by a cone stretching out to a great length. Having crossed a small watercourse, and wound along between erratic blocks of granite, scattered about in wild disorder, and interrupted, wherever the ground offered a small level, by rich crops of grain, we reached the first hamlet of this most picturesque locality. It is one of the chief seats of the Démsa, or rather comprises two distinct villages, namely, Démsa-Póha and Démsa-Mésu.

It was indeed a most charming sight when we made our way along a broad well-trodden path, surrounded on both sides by neatly-fenced clusters of large huts, encompassed by waving corn and picturesque clusters of trees. Thus we reached the “lamórde,” the residence of the governor, which is situated at a short distance from the southern foot of the large granitic cone; but he was absent, having gone on an expedition against the Fúri, an independent pagan tribe in the neighbourhood, and we had to wait some time before his servants undertook to assign us quarters, when we had to retrace our steps to the southern part of the village. It was half-past four in the afternoon when, feverish and extremely weak as I was, I at length found rest; but while reclining at full length in a cool shade, I listened with delight to Ibrahíma’s chat, who, in order to cheer my spirits, gave me an account of that famous expedition to the far south which the Fúlbe of Ádamáwa undertook a few years ago, and to which I have already alluded.

[520]This memorable campaign having proceeded from Búbanjídda, none of the people of Ádamáwa, whose acquaintance I was able to make during my short stay in the country, had participated in it, so that all the accounts which I received of it were extremely vague. The expedition, after a march of almost two months, is said to have reached an unbounded expanse of unbroken plain, and, having kept along it for a day or two, to have arrived at an immense tree, in the shade of which the whole host found sufficient room. Here they found two natives of the southern regions, who informed them that they were the subjects of a powerful queen that resided in a vast town of two days’ march in circumference. These people, they say, were of short stature, and wore long beards. Frightened by these reports, and by the waterless tract before them, the expedition retraced their steps. Similar reports with regard to a very powerful female sovereign towards the south are also current in Bagírmi and all the adjacent country; but I am not able to determine whether they originate in faint rumours, spread so far north, of the powerful kingdom of Muata-ya-Nvo, or—of Queen Victoria.

To my great satisfaction, we were obliged to stay here the next day, in order to await the arrival of the lámido, when, feeling greatly recruited by a good night’s and half a day’s rest, I crept out of my well-polished round little clay hut in the afternoon, and, crossing the neatly-fenced promenade of the straggling[521] village, ascended a neighbouring eminence formed by an irregular mass of granite blocks, to the north of our quarters. Here I spent two delicious hours in the tranquil contemplation of the picturesque scenery, which I thought the most interesting I had yet seen in this quarter of the world. The accompanying view presents but a very faint idea of its peculiar features; but I hope it will give the reader some conception of the nature of this country in general, which enables the pagan natives between this district and Hamárruwa to defend their liberty and independence against the Mohammedan intruders. These tribes are, after the Démsa, who seem to form a tolerably numerous body, first, the Mbulá, probably the same who have given their name to the place situated at some distance from Mount Míndif, and mentioned above; then, further west, or north-west, the Báchama, and still further west the Tángalé, with both of whom Mr. Vogel, on his recent journey from Yákuba to Hamárruwa, has come in contact.

Tuesday, July 1st.We made a short but highly interesting march to the place of our old friend the mʿallem Delíl. The scenery was rich and beautiful, the crops of Guinea corn standing from four to five feet high, alternating with fields where góza, a kind of yams, were grown, and adorned with fine spreading trees, amongst which the tármu and the kúka or monkey-bread tree predominated; even the rocky eminences were all overgrown with fresh vegetation. We then passed a sort of shallow river, or sél, which is[522] called by the Kanúri “ngáljam,” and forms a characteristic feature of Démsa, while on our right it expanded to a conspicuous sheet of water, bordered by blocks and masses of rocks full of vegetation. It was overgrown with rank reed at the spot where we crossed it.

Only a few minutes beyond this almost stagnant water on green meadow-land, we crossed the broad and clear torrent of the máyo Tíyel, rushing ahead over a gravelly bottom, and at times rolling along a considerable quantity of water. According to my guides, it is formed by three branches, one issuing from Báses towards the N.E., the other coming from the neighbourhood of Bélem, and the third from the N.W., from Bíngel. Only a few hundred yards further on, we passed on our left another broad sheet of water, apparently of great depth, which is said to preserve the same level at all times of the year. It is full of crocodiles, and bordered by the richest vegetation, and, being apparently quite isolated, has a very curious appearance. Perhaps it is fed by subterranean sources. It is surrounded by beautiful pasture-grounds.

We then traversed a fine open country, passing some villages, while the road was enlivened by a troop of travellers (colonists from Bórnu), among whom there were some remarkably handsome women mounted on bullocks, who bore sufficient testimony to the fact that the more elevated districts of Ádamáwa are salubrious and favourable for man. We[523] reached Bélem at about two o’clock; but before we arrived there a circumstance happened which I must not omit to mention, as it is rather characteristic: for suddenly two of Mohammed Lowel’s servants appeared with the horse which Bíllama had sold to the governor for the price of twenty slaves, returning it under some pretext, but in reality for no other reason than because he was afraid lest it might operate by way of charm, and injure him. Bíllama was to have received the slaves in the towns still before us.

We stayed in Bélem this day and the following; and I was pestered a little by the family of old Mʿallem Delíl, but particularly by his daughter, rather a handsome person, who had been divorced from her former husband (I think Mansúr, the younger brother of Mohammed Lowel), and wanted me by all means to write her a charm to get her another husband after her heart’s desire. She was a very passionate sort of woman, and when smelling, against my wish, from my phial of hartshorn, was seized with such violent convulsions, that she was carried senseless out of my tent, and remained in this state for nearly an hour. The stay here was the more disagreeable to me as it was caused partly by the trading propensities of my servant Bú-Sʿad; and not only did he buy ivory, which he had the insolence to add to the loads of my weak camels, but even three slaves, so that I was obliged to dismiss him instantly from my service, although I had nothing wherewith to pay him off. It is extremely difficult for a single European to proceed[524] in these countries with hired servants, as he loses all control over them. This man, who had been the late Mr. Richardson’s servant as well as mine, turned out like Mukni, Mr. Richardson’s interpreter, a great slave-dealer, and in 1855, when I was leaving Central Africa, collected a numerous gang of slaves in this very country, which he had before visited as my servant.

Thursday, July 3rd.We at length resumed our journey, but only to reach Saráwu Beréberé, where we took up our quarters in the comfortable courtyard which I have described on our outward journey. I will only record the pleasing fact, that as soon as the news spread in the town of my having returned, a man whom I had cured of disease during my former stay brought me a handsome gazelle-skin as an acknowledgment.

The next day we followed our ancient road by Badaníjo, and reached Segéro; but on Saturday, after having passed Mbutúdi without any other delay than that of buying with beads a little milk from our Fúlbe friends, we took a more easterly path, which brought us to Múglebú, a village which exhibited to us an interesting picture of the exuberance that reigns in these regions at this time of the year. The huts were scarcely visible, on account of the rich crops of grain which surrounded them on all sides, while Palma Christi formed thick clusters of bushes, and a few specimens of a remarkable tree which I had never observed before, besides isolated bananas, rose above[525] the rich mass of vegetation, and gave to the whole the charm of novelty; but the weather was so wet that I could make but a very slight sketch, and was wholly prevented from rambling about, the rain continuing the whole of the afternoon. Besides, all my energy was required to assist my three servants, who were all severely ill; and while I administered to two of them emetics, I had to soothe ʿAbd-Allah with a dose of laudanum. It was very fortunate indeed that I myself felt a little better. In short, our stay here was anything but agreeable, and I was worried by several people with demands which exceeded my power—such as, to drive out devils, relieve impotency, and so on; but the mayor sent me a goat, fowls, milk, and a little butter. The village, which consisted of about two hundred huts, seemed to be in good circumstances.

Sunday, July 6th.When we started, at a tolerably early hour in the morning, the weather was clear and favourable; but after we had crossed the little mountain-chain which surrounds the village of Múglebú at some distance to the east and north, and reached a small hamlet presenting signs of very careful cultivation, and numerous herds of cattle, we were drenched by a heavy shower. It is generally supposed that storms in the tropical climes break forth in the afternoon, or in the course of the night—and this certainly is the general rule; but if there has been a storm the day before, or during the night, and the weather has not cleared up, there can be no certainty[526] that it will not come on again in the course of the morning. It is rather a rare phenomenon in these regions for a storm to gather in the morning on a clear sky; but nevertheless the reader will find several examples even of this in my meteorological tables.[141] The natives are not at all insensible to rain; and while the Kánembú[142] who had attached themselves to our caravan in Badaníjo were protecting their persons with their light wooden shields, the natives of the country collected thick bushes, and formed a sort of natural umbrella over their heads. To protect the head at least from wet is most essential in these climes. On another occasion, when I come to speak about the prevailing kinds of disease, I shall have to mention how dreadfully the Fúlbe sometimes suffer from the maladies of the rainy season, when employed on their warlike expeditions.

Early in the morning we reached Múfi or Múbi, but were received so inhospitably that we had great difficulty in obtaining quarters, for which we were obliged to keep fighting the whole day, as a quarrelsome mʿallem wished to dislodge me from the hut of which I had taken possession. Fortunately his better half bore the inconvenience with more equanimity;[527] and I put up cheerfully with the little trouble which she gave me from time to time by calling at the door and begging me to hand to her some little articles of her simple household furniture. My three people were so sick that they lay like so many corpses on the ground; and their condition prevented us from setting out even the following day, notwithstanding the inhospitable manner in which we were treated here, so that I had ample leisure to study minutely the architecture of my residence, of which I here subjoin a ground-plan.

The hut, measuring about twelve feet in diameter, was built in the manner most usual in these regions—namely, of clay walls, with a thatched roof. The door, a little elevated above the floor, was three feet high, and fifteen inches wide, and not at all adapted for very stout persons. From the wall at the right of the door (a) ran another wall, “gáruwel súdo,” of the same height, but unconnected with the roof, right across the hut in an oblique line, to the length of about six feet, separating one part of the dwelling, and securing to it more privacy. In this compartment was the bed (c), consisting of a frame made of branches, and spread over pilasters of clay about three feet high. In the most sequestered part of the hut, in the corner formed by the round inclosing wall and the oblique one, at the top of the bed[528]—“kéla kagá,” as the Kanúri say—stood the corn-urn (d), about six feet high, and in its largest part two feet wide, destined to keep a certain provision of corn always at hand; besides this, there was a smaller one (f e) at the foot of the bed—“shí kagá.” At the side of this smaller urn were two small pedestals of clay (g), serving the purpose of a sideboard, in order to place upon them pots or other articles. Then followed the kitchen, “defforíde” (h), still under cover of the oblique wall, but exactly on a line with it, so that the smoke might more easily find its way through the door, and consisting of a narrow place inclosed on each side by a low wall, to protect the fire, between which three stones, or rather small clay mounds like fire-bricks, supported the cooking-pot, while a small wooden footstool (i) accommodated the industrious landlady when busy with her most important culinary employment. While to all this part of the hut a certain degree of privacy was secured by the oblique wall, a considerable space to the left of the door remained unprotected; and here stood the large water-urn (f), which, always remaining in its place, is filled by means of smaller portable urns or pitchers.

[529]Tuesday, July 8th.It seemed almost as if we were destined to stay another day in this place; for just when we were about to start, a most violent shower came down, and lasted full two hours. When at length we were able to set out on our road to Úba, it was excessively wet, the streams greatly swollen, and the weather still anything but bright and clear. At Úba, again, we remained much longer than I wished. In the evening, after our arrival, the governor went on an expedition against the Kílba-Gáya. Falling suddenly upon the poor pagans at early dawn, he captured a good many slaves; but the persecuted natives rallied, and, taking advantage of a defile through which he had to pass on his return to his residence, suddenly attacked him, and succeeded in rescuing all their countrymen from the hands of their relentless enemies.

During my absence the corn had almost ripened; and the fields afforded a spectacle of the utmost exuberance. Almost all the grain here is sorghum, and mostly of the white kind; the average height of the stalks was from nine to ten feet. The whole area of the town was clothed in the richest vegetation, of great variety, where a botanist might have made a numerous collection.

Thursday, July 10th.Ibrahíma, the principal of the two men whom Mohammed Lowel had appointed to escort me to the frontier of his province, accompanied me a short distance when we left Úba. This man, who, perhaps because he was not well treated in[530] Kúkawa, behaved rather sullenly on our journey to Ádamáwa, had become infinitely more amiable after the governor of that country had sent me back. He not only manifested on every occasion his heart-felt sorrow on account of my having been disappointed in the expectation of travelling over that interesting country in every direction, but he still more lamented that his countrymen had been deprived, by the imprudence of their ruler, of the advantage of my presence in the country. I have had occasion to observe repeatedly, that there is a great deal of republican spirit in the Fúlbe, and that they have in general the air and manners of freeborn men, though I shall have to dwell upon the deterioration of this original character in the case of the inhabitants of Sókoto.

The commencement of our march through the unsafe and infested boundary-district from Úba northward was not very auspicious; and I was almost afraid lest, after having been allowed to reach the frontier unmolested, we were doomed to some insidious treachery in these lawless lands. The original arrangement was, that some other people should succeed to Ibrahíma, in order to see me safe to Íssege; but they never made their appearance, and we had scarcely parted from Ibrahíma when all sorts of alarms frightened and disturbed our little band. First a dreadful noise was heard from above the rocks at the foot of which lay our road; but it was found to proceed only from a countless multitude of birds of[531] prey enjoying their liberty in noisy mirth. Then, when we reached the fields of corn within this rocky passage, which on our outward journey we had seen under cultivation, we were prevented by armed men from passing through them, and were obliged to make a long circuit. A little further on, people came running after us, and attempted to take away by force two of the slaves whom some of our companions were leading along; and when resisted, they raised a dismal cry for help, which was heard resounding to a great distance through the wild country. Serious quarrels seemed imminent; but fortunately no one came to their assistance.

About thirty travellers, all of them armed either with spears or with bows and arrows, had attached themselves to our troop. I got ready all my cartridges; and we were well on our guard. We had advanced about five miles from Úba, and were in the middle of the forest, when a more serious alarm arose, several people being seen lurking among the trees,—an unmistakable proof that they meditated an attack, if we should exhibit any signs of weakness. We therefore rallied a moment, and formed in front, the most sturdy of our spearmen gathering round me, and begging me to take steady aim when they should point out to me the chief men. But the natives, belonging most probably to the tribe of the Báza, who always infest this road, seeing that we were prepared to receive them, did not dare to quit their ambush; and having continued awhile along the path, we thought it wiser[532] to leave it, and struck off to the west into the thickest covert of the wood, where the camels with their luggage had some difficulty in passing through, especially as the soil was cracked and rent in all directions. Having trudged on in this way for about two hours, and feeling sure that we were not pursued, we returned to the path, but left it again about noon, and, pursuing another track, reached Laháula, a village of unlucky memory, on the western side. But this time we were well received, not only by ʿAisha, but also by his wild and passionate son, who became a great friend of mine, and, having received from me a present of a knife, brought me three fowls in return, while his father sent túwo for all my people. I sketched the danísko, or hand-bill, of my friend, which was of a peculiarly regular shape.

Friday, July 11th.On leaving Laháula in the morning, we again preferred the covert to the beaten path; but after we had gone round Kófa, which Bíllama thought it better to avoid, we returned to our well-known road parallel to the river and the mountain-chain beyond, and reached Íssege without any accident, early in the afternoon. There, too, my reception was very different from that which I had experienced on my going; and I was received with the utmost kindness and hospitality into the house of a wealthy family at the northern end of the village, and quartered in a neat little hut, the walls of which consisted of thatch, like the roof, but were plastered[533] over with clay. The little hut, which scarcely measured seven feet in diameter, contained two couches, one raised above the ground to the right, and the other on the level of the ground on the left of the entrance. Three spears, a common shield, and a large shield called “chággo” by the Marghí, “kutufáni” by the Kanúri, consisting of a thick texture of reed, and big enough to protect two or three persons, a basket and a net, “úturu,” hanging from the roof, formed the furniture of this little dwelling, which was the apartment of the youngest son of the family, a fine, tall, and slender young man, with a very pleasant expression of countenance. Except that he wore the “funó,” a small leather apron, round his waist, he was quite naked, but loaded with coquettish ornaments. Round his neck he wore a double string of red beads, a little lower another set of three strings of corals, and still lower again a set of two strings of iron beads; on his left shoulder he wore four broad iron rings, or “kégelá;” on his elbow two other narrow iron rings (barachággo) very neatly worked like beads; on his wrist six narrow and one broad iron ring, or “únzo,” and above them an ivory ring, or “yécho.” The right arm was not so richly endowed with ornaments, having only four iron rings at the upper part, and two on the wrist. Below his knee he wore a chain of cotton very neatly twisted—this is called “shishídderi,”[143]—and on his foot-joint a narrow[534] iron ring called “míltedo.” However, I observed afterwards that this young man did not wear all the national ornaments of his tribe; for I saw others who wore in addition an iron chain round their loins, which is called “shushú.” All these iron articles are very neatly made by the people of Wándalá, Morá being only two days’ march from this; and I only regret that I was not able to bring some of these articles home as specimens of the industry of the natives, as well as of the excellent quality of iron which they possess. This young man did not wear the “sér,” as they call it, a small reed or feather in the left ear.

I delighted my youthful host by the present of a mirror; and I gave a knife to his father, when he returned from the labour of the field. My little hut was not without a crowd of visitors the whole of the afternoon, all the friends of my host coming to see me. They were admitted in a regular way, five at a time, and behaved very decently, while they admired the few curious things which I had to show them. I was greatly amused by the simplicity of my young host and one of his brothers, who, when I presented them with small bits of sugar, gradually nibbled them away, and at the same time compared their size continually, till they were reduced to very diminutive morsels, when they agreed between them to give the remnants to a sister.

The language of these people, which, as I have stated, is intimately related to that of the Bátta,[535] seems to show that they belong rather to the family of South African tribes, than to the group of neighbouring tribes of Central Negroland.

We had plenty of good fare in the evening, the Bórnu titular mayor of the place sending me a sheep, besides corn for the horses, and our hosts preparing a fowl for myself, and several dishes of hasty-pudding, with fish-sauce, for my people. The evening being clear, and illuminated by splendid moonlight, I sat a long time outside—perhaps too long, in my precarious state of health—enjoying the sound of music and dancing which came from the opposite quarter of the village; but I was not a little astonished when I heard from my young friend, whom I asked why he did not go to join in the merriment, that it was not an ordinary amusement, but a religious dance to celebrate the death of an old man: for if a person in old age dies, his death is deemed a cause of satisfaction and mirth, while that of a young one is lamented with tears.

I have already noticed some peculiar customs of the Marghí; but I must say a few words about their curious ordeal on the holy granite rock of Kóbshi. When two are litigating about a matter, each of them takes a cock which he thinks the best for fighting; and they go together to Kóbshi. Having arrived at the holy rock, they set their birds a-fighting, and he whose cock prevails in the combat is also the winner in the point of litigation. But more than that, the master of the defeated cock is punished by[536] the divinity, whose anger he has thus provoked; and on returning to his village he finds his hut in flames.

It is evident that this tribe, as well as many of the neighbouring ones, venerate their forefathers, in which respect they closely resemble the South African tribes, although the Berbers also seem originally to have had this sort of worship as well as the Háusa people. The Marghí do not practise circumcision; but, what seems very remarkable, they practise inoculation for the small pox, at least to a considerable extent.

As I was sitting outside the courtyard, by degrees a great many natives collected round me, when a young man took me aside and entreated me earnestly to give him a remedy against the dislike of people. I, however, soon succeeded in making him confess that he meant only the dislike of one girl, who, he said, did not relish his haughty demeanour, and that he was reduced to a state of desperation, and wished for nothing but to die in battle. This example shows that even these simple people have some sentiment of love.

Saturday, July 12th.I had some difficulty in persuading Bíllama to leave this hospitable place; but I was ashamed to cause these good people, who had been robbed and despoiled a short time ago by Kashélla ʿAlí, any more trouble. We took a more easterly path than that by which we had travelled before, but nearly of the same character—full of holes and crevices, and covered with thick forest, while the nutritive root “katakírri” employed the several[537] members of our caravan continually, particularly a Púllo pilgrim from the far west near the coast, who was indefatigable in digging as well as in eating. We had only proceeded a few miles when we met a troop of Marghí, who were going to perform a sacrifice in the holy grove of Íssege, one of them carrying a sheep and another a fowl. One of them had ornamented his shield with red lines, which on the black ground of the elephant’s hide were quite becoming; but I do not think that this custom is general: perhaps it had some connection with the sacrifice.

After a march of eight hours, we reached the first cluster of huts of the Northern Molghoy, where we wished to find quarters; but the unfortunate people, by the recent exactions and contributions levied on them by the Kanúri, were driven to a state of despair, and obstinately refused to receive us. There remained, therefore, no alternative but to continue our march, and to try to reach Yerímarí; but the effort was too much for me, and had the worst consequences in my reduced state of health. I was for some time quite senseless when, after a ride of thirteen hours, I succeeded in reaching the well-known place, and threw myself flat upon the ground of my little hut. Scarcely had my luggage arrived, when a storm, which the whole afternoon had been hanging over our heads, broke forth, and continued till midnight with unabated violence.

Man as well as beast was so exhausted that[538] we remained here the following day, when I felt strength enough to walk out a little into the fields. There was an extraordinary difference between the advanced state in which I had left the crops in Ádamáwa and that in which I found them here. The reader will remember that the fields round this place were just being sown on the day of my leaving it; and during the time of my absence rain must have been rather scanty, so that the crops were scarcely twenty inches above the ground. In the afternoon, Bíllama, who was always obliging, gave me some information with regard to the adjacent country, which I shall here insert in a note[144], though it is not so clear as might be desired.

[539]Monday, July 14th.We continued our march, and, with a halt during the hot hours, reached Ujé Kasúkulá in the evening. The aspect of the country offered unmistakable proof of our advance northwards. Even the grass here was barely an inch or two above the ground; the crops, where most advanced, were ten or twelve inches high, while other fields were still covered with the tunfáfia, or Asclepias gigantea,—a sure proof that they had not yet been brought under cultivation. We passed a good many cotton-fields. I reached the place in a state of the utmost exhaustion, and was obliged to stay here three days to recruit my strength, taking hardly any food but quinine, and placing a plaster of cantharides on my chest. The governor of the place, Kashélla ʿAlí Aláwó, treated my party very hospitably and kindly, and showed sincere compassion for my feeble condition. I learnt from him, to my great satisfaction, that Mr. Overweg had really embarked in the boat on the Tsád, and was gone to the Búdduma.

Friday, July 18th.At length we set out again; but though I felt a little better, I was glad when, after a short march of three hours through a very pleasant and populous country, we took up our quarters in a place called Gúlfo, a great proportion of the inhabitants of which are Shúwa. Having passed the hot hours in a spacious and cool hut, I enjoyed for a while the freshness of the evening outside, in my courtyard, delighted at the same time by the sight of the herds of cattle returning from their pastures.[540] Shortly before we reached Gúlfo we had passed a village entirely inhabited by Shúwa, and even called Shúwarám.

Though we had now reached the monotonous alluvial plains of Bórnu Proper, yet the following day’s march in the company of my friend Bíllama, who, after we had become better acquainted, was anxious to gratify my desire for information in every respect, was highly interesting. Although the vegetation was very poor in comparison with that of the more southern districts, yet there was plenty of underwood, and we observed the small bush called “kúmkum,” the berries of which taste very like coffee, and which in reality may be a kind of Coffea. On our right we left a path leading by Yámaké, Tangállanda, and Kirbáje, to Kabé-Ngáwa, a place famous on account of its neighbourhood affording the “fógo”—wood from which the shields (ngáwa) of the Kánembú are made: it lies on the road to Díkowa, passing by a place called Ájowa. The spears of the natives (kasékka) are made from the root of the kindíl or talha, but the javelin (béllam) from that of the kúrna; the shafts of arrows are made from the “kabílla”-bush, which hereabouts grows in great abundance. Cultivated and pasture-ground alternately succeeded each other, and I was astonished to see that the produce of this district was exclusively argúm móro, or Pennisetum, while ngáberi, or Holcus sorghum, is a much more general grain in Bórnu, with the exception of the country of the Koyám. A little before eleven[541] o’clock we finished our day’s march in a small village called Múnghono-Mabé, where I took possession of a large hut constructed in the peculiar style of the Shúwa, the roof being of an oval shape, without the characteristic top or head the “kogí ngímbe,” and supported by a pole, “dúngulis,” in the middle of the hut, while the thatch is made in a very irregular and hasty manner, the compactness of wickerwork being insufficiently supplied by a heap of reeds thrown upon the roof and fastened with ropes.

Sunday, July 20th.I felt much better; and after a beautiful moonlight night, we started earlier than usual, “dúnia kéte.” The morning was very fine; but the sun soon became rather powerful and troublesome. We passed a considerable pool of stagnant water surrounded by fine trees, tamarinds and sycamores, such as in this district, where stunted mimosas form the predominant feature of the vegetation, are only seen in very favoured spots; it is called “kulúgu Hámtigu.” On the path itself also, deeply cut as it was in the sandy soil, there was a good deal of water. We passed the site of a large town named Dóngo, which had been destroyed by the Fúlbe or Felláta some forty years ago, but of which the circumference of the wall was still visible, the gate being marked by a colossal monkey-bread tree or Adansonia, the constant follower of human society, spreading its gigantic branches out like an immense candelabrum. Bíllama brought me the berries of a bush called “búlte,” the taste of which was very much like currants; and[542] further on he presented me with a “fitó,” a red fruit looking exactly like red pepper, with numbers of small kernels, and of a somewhat acidulous taste.

We rested a little more than three hours, during the heat of the day, near a pond of stagnant water, in a district rich in pastures, where, among numerous herds of the Shúwa, the cattle of Háj Beshír were also grazing. But the ground hereabouts seemed to be nothing but one continuous world of ants, which did not allow us a moment’s undisturbed repose, and even during our short stay they made several successful attacks not only upon part of our luggage, but even of my dress.

When we set out again, at an early hour in the afternoon, numerous pools of water along the road testified to the presence of the rainy season; and the village Máska, which we passed soon afterwards, was surrounded with corn and cotton-fields as well as by rich green pasture-grounds. The path was well frequented. We met first a horseman of the sheikh sent as a messenger to Ujé, with the order to call in the numerous horse of that district; and Bíllama was of opinion that his master had thoughts of arranging the affairs of Khadéja. Further on we met a troop of Shúwa women, who, in a mournful song, lamented the death of one of their companions. They passed us too rapidly to allow the words of their song to be distinctly heard.

The country on our left, and that on our right, showed a remarkable contrast; for while, on our left,[543] corn-fields, fine pasture-grounds, and villages succeeded each other, on the right an immense ghadír, or fírki, still dry, and only sparingly covered here and there with a little coarse herbage, stretched out to an immeasurable distance. At an early hour in the afternoon, deviating a little from the path, we turned into the village of Káliluwá Grémarí, which belongs to ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, the second brother of Sheikh ʿOmár, and found the male inhabitants of the village sitting in the shade of a chédia or caoutchouc-tree, busily employed in making wickerwork. However, they proved too clearly that we had entered the inhospitable zone in the neighbourhood of the capital; observing, with great coolness, that the sun was as yet high, and would enable us still to make a good march to some other place, they would hear nothing of our quartering in their village. But Bíllama was not the man to be laughed at; and, riding through the midst of them, he took possession for me of one of the best huts. I could not, in truth, approve of this despotical mode of dealing; but I was too weak to run the risk of spending a night in my tent on the damp ground. The villagers seemed to be drained to the utmost by their gracious lord, and did not possess a single cow; even fowls were scarcely to be seen.

In the evening I was greatly amused, at first, by the noisy hum of a “mákaranchí,” or school, close to my hut, where, round a large fire, some six or seven boys were repeating, at the highest pitch of their voices, and with utter disregard of the sense, a few[544] verses of the Kurán, which in the daytime they had been taught to read by their master, who, doubtless, understood them as little as the boys themselves; but by degrees the noise became almost insupportable. It is generally thought in Europe, that a schoolboy is too much tormented; but these poor African boys, for the little they learn, are worried still more—at least, I have often found them in the cold season, and with scarcely a rag of a shirt on, sitting round a miserable fire as early as four o’clock in the morning, learning their lessons. Besides, they have to perform all sorts of menial service for the master, and are often treated no better than slaves.

Monday, July 21st.The country which we passed in the morning presented more pasture-grounds than cultivated lands; and after a little while I turned, with my companion, out of our path, to the left, towards a small encampment or “berí Shúwabe” of the Kohálemí, a Shúwa or Arab tribe, where, for three large beads, called “nejúm,” we bought a little fresh milk. On this occasion I learned from Bíllama, that the Shúwa or native Arabs settled in the district of Ujé belong to the tribe of the Sáraji, while the Sugúla and the Sálamát have their camping-grounds further east.

The country became rather dreary, black “fírki”-ground and sandy soil alternately succeeding each other; and traffic there was none. But when we reached the well of Maira, a considerable place which we passed on our left hand, the path became animated[545] from an interesting cause, a whole village or “berí” of wandering Arabs passing through in search of fresh pasture-grounds to the west. Each mistress of a family was sitting on the top of her best household furniture, which was carefully packed on the backs of the cattle, and covered with hides, while a female slave followed her, sitting astride on the less valuable gear and the poles with pots and other such utensils; but, distinguished above all by the harness of her bullock, the neat arrangement of her seat, a leather tent-like covering over her head, and the stoutness of her own person, sat the wife of the chief. Most of these women, however, were rather slender than otherwise, testifying to the sound and well-preserved national taste of these Arabs. They never veil the face, and their dress is simple and decent; but they are not nearly so tidy as the Fulfúlde ladies. Most of the men followed at a great distance with the flocks of goats and sheep.

When this interesting procession had passed by, the monotony of the country was more intensely felt. The proud Kanúri of the towns mock the inhabitants of these districts, who have nothing but a few cattle and goats, with the verse: “Sémma bíllani—berí kaní” (“This is the whole of my town—cattle and goats;” or, in other words, “The town and moat, two cows and a goat”). The poor stunted mimosas had been cut down in many places, in order that the whole tract being changed into a quagmire or[546] swamp, it might be sown with the peculiar kind of holcus called “másakwá” (Holcus cernuus); and then these black, dismal-looking plains become one field of life and wealth. This remarkable change in the aspect of the country, and this second harvest, which takes place in the middle of the cold season, and by which the fírki, or fírgi, becomes a fírgi mosogábe (másakwábe), I shall have to describe in another place.

We then entered a well-cultivated and thickly-inhabited district called Yelé, where it was a novelty to be obliged to draw water from the well or barrem Yelé; for since reaching Ujé on our journey out we had constantly met waterpools or small rivulets, from which we took our supply, and even the well at Maira was rendered quite superfluous by a large tank close by. However, I have already had occasion to observe that the water from these stagnant pools is anything but wholesome, particularly after the rainy season, when they receive no further supply; and I have no doubt that the drinking of such water is the principal, if not the only cause of that dreadful and wide-spread disease (the “fárantít” or “ʿarúg”—“ngíduwí” in Kanúri—“the misery”) which disables the working man, and makes him a poor wretched being—the guineaworm, which is sure to be met with in at least one out of three persons who travel a great deal, through the whole of Central Africa. I never met with an instance of this disease in a woman. It seemed to me, too, as if the pagans,[547] whose nakedness exposed all their limbs to view, suffered less from it.

There seemed to be no superfluous supply of water in the district through which our road then lay, which appeared as dry as I had left it, only thinly scattered and lonely blades of grass shooting up here and there; but yet there was a favoured spot where the road from Márte to Alárge crossed our path, adorned with fine, wide-spreading tamarind-trees, and rain-clouds were approaching from the east to fertilize the soil, and make it capable of production. We therefore hurried on, and took shelter in the village Mʿallem-Shíshi, in order to let the storm pass over; our hut, however, was so incapable of resisting heavy rain, that as soon as the storm broke out we were almost swamped. The carelessness with which the houses of the natives are built in this region is an unmistakable evidence of the difference of the climate; on the other side, we have seen the neat huts of the people of Fúmbiná, and we shall see those of the despised pagan natives of Músgu. The people assured me that this was the first regular rain which they had had this year, the first preparatory shower having fallen thirty days ago, and the second two days ago.

The clouds having taken a southerly direction, we started forth in the afternoon, after some hesitation, but had scarcely been an hour on the march, and were just in the middle of a wide dismal-looking ghadír or fírki, when the clouds, having gathered again over our[548] heads, poured down violent torrents of rain, so that in a few moments the whole country looked like a lake, and our progress was excessively difficult. At length, after an hour and a half, in the most uncomfortable state we reached the village Kiryúmmuwa, where I was quartered in a rather magnificent but as yet unfinished hut of clay, and endeavoured to dry my wet clothes as well as I could.

We were now only one day’s march from Kúkawa; and we started early the next morning, in order to reach home before night. The neighbourhood of the capital had been sufficiently indicated already during the last day’s march by the dúm-bushes, which, with the melancholy Asclepias gigantea, might well decorate the scutcheon of Kúkawa—with more justice, indeed, than the kúka, or monkey-bread tree, from which the name was taken, but of which but a few poor stunted specimens are to be seen in the courtyard of the palace in the eastern town.

We had scarcely gone a mile when we met the first body of Shúwa, men and women, who were returning with their unloaded pack-oxen from the great Monday market of the capital; and then the string of market-people on their way to their respective homes was almost uninterrupted. While our people followed the road, Bíllama and I turned off a little to the left, in order to pay a visit to the mayor of Múnghono and obtain a cool drink; for since I had had the fever I suffered greatly from thirst, and the water from the wells in general, as preserving a mean temperature[549] of about 80 degrees, was quite tepid. The place lies in an elevated position; and on its south side there is a hollow, where wheat and onions are cultivated after the rainy season, while another cavity surrounding it on the north and east sides, and where at present only small separate water-pools are collecting, forms, later in the season, one continuous lake. There is a great deal of iron-stone, “kau súwa,” hereabouts; and it is used by the native blacksmiths, though it affords but an inferior sort of metal—far inferior to the excellent iron, the “sú-búltu,” of Búbanjídda. While passing through the place, I was greatly struck with the variety which the roofs of the huts exhibited, and made a slight sketch of them.

Múnghono, which is likewise the name of the whole district, has been a place of importance from early times, and is often mentioned in the history of the Bórnu kings. After the richness of natural forms which I had beheld in Ádamáwa, the country seemed extremely monotonous, there being nothing whatever to cheer the eye except the blossom of the mimosas, which spread a sweet scent all around. We encamped during the hot hours of the day near the well of Káine, where we had great difficulty in supplying ourselves with water from the well, while a little later in the season a large lake is formed here: for[550] Africa is the region of contrasts as well in nature as in human life.

When we set out again from this place, people from the town, who had been informed of our approach, came to meet us; and I heard, to my great satisfaction, that the crafty Arab Mohammed el Mughárbi, whom I had already met in Gúmmel, had at length arrived with the merchandise confided to his care, the nominal value of which was 100l. sterling, so that there was at least some hope of being able to carry on the mission on a small scale.

But I could not but feel pleased with my reception on returning to head quarters in this part of the world; for when we approached the southern gate of the town, three horsemen, who were stationed there, came galloping up to me, and having saluted me with their spears raised, placed themselves in front, and in stately procession led me through the town to my house, where I was soon regaled with a plentiful supper sent by the vizier. I afterwards perceived that he had expected me to pay him my respects the same evening; but, as I felt very weak, I deferred the visit till the next morning, when, on his return from an early visit to the sheikh, he gave me an audience in the presence of all the people. Having expressed his sorrow at my reduced state, and having inquired how I had been received in Ádamáwa, he entered, with apparent delight, into a long conversation with me respecting the form of the earth and the whole system of the world. On being asked what I now intended to[551] do, I replied that it was my design, after having made the tour of the lake, to try to penetrate into the regions south of Bagírmi. He immediately expressed his doubts as to the possibility of going round the lake as far as the Bahar el Ghazál, but promised to further my plans as far as possible, although he thought that I had done enough already, and should rather think of returning home safely with the results of my labours; for seeing me so weak during the first rainy season which I was spending in these regions, he was afraid that something might happen to me.

Well satisfied with this audience, I returned to my quarters and wrote a short report to H.M.’s government, of the results of my journey, informing them that my most deeply-cherished hopes with regard to that river in the south had been surpassed, and requesting them to send an expedition in order to verify its identity with the so-called Chadda. This report, which was sent off by a courier a day or two before Mr. Overweg’s return from his navigation of the lake, and which was overtaken by a messenger with a short account of his survey, created general satisfaction in Europe, and procured for me the confidence of H.M.’s government. Meanwhile I endeavoured to arrange the pecuniary affairs of the mission as well as I could.

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APPENDIX.

[555]APPENDIX.

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I. — Quarters of the Town of Kátsena.

Ambutéy, or Mbutéy, the oldest quarter; Tódo-málle[145], Bar-hemáwa, Suafáwa, Rími-n-Sámbari, Darma, Túdduwa-Anábara, Tokáwa, Chidefáwa, Rími-n-Gúlladu, Uché-albába, Mógoba alhándu, Tawátínke[146], Sófo-káswa, Mesállachi-n-Káura, Dúrrima-n-tákelme (the shoemakers’ quarter), Ungwa Debbósa, Kameyáwa, Shibdáwa, Dábera, Tafí da ráwa (“clapping hands and dancing”—a very merry quarter, as it seems), Ungwa-n-baráye, Ungwa Dóka, Sábbera, Mehédi, Ungwa Kúka, Chefenáwa, Lóloki-n-da-n-al barka, Ungwa Saká, Ungwa da-n-alló (probably the schoolmasters’[147] quarter), Ya-áura, Yansabóni, Dambo, Súnkurá, Ungwa Beréberé (the quarter of the Bórnu people), Gamberáwa, Lóloki-n-ákochi, Barasáki, Rími-n-áferga, Týdde Líffeda, Ungwa Sherifáwa, Limáwa, Chédia[148] Akánzem, Kófa Túluwí, Gogári, Réri-n-wuári, Jagabánchi, Addemunáwa, Dodáwa,[556] Kachúmbe, Yankéwuré, Masanáwa, Muskáni, Cheferáwa, Lóloki-n-Kabáwa, Gafay, Ungwa Chédia, Kokoyáwa, Jangwáki, Jangozáwa, Mesállachi-n-Góberáwa (the mosque of the Góber people), Fáskari, Zázagau, Dúrrimi-n-sháuru[149], Kontaráwa, Sakáwa, Kófa-n-Yándaka, Ungwa Köani, or Kwáni (probably the quarter of the Köana or Kwána people), Dorówa, Sabberáwa, Jambíra, Mákera-n-owó, Mákera-chínki, Daugaumu, Yagabánchi, Yarángway, Mʿallemi-n-dáwa, Bokudáwa, Kantamáwa, Békuráwa, Bindáwa, Mareá, Ungwa Turáwa (the quarter of the Arabs), Ungwa Sirdi (the saddlers’ quarter), Ungwa Yatáwa, Jambaráwa, Yangozáwa, Jembiráwa (different from Jamberáwa), Machíka, Samrí, Arbabejéri; then the quarters lying close to the different gates of the town, and called after them the Kófa-n-Gúga, K. Samrí, K. Dyrbi, K. Marúsa, K. Káura, K. Gazúbi, K. Kóya, K. Yéndaka. Further, the quarters Lóloki-n-karí, Jembísa, Kátukam, Yanguzáli, Kógo, Gulbí, Jínu, Kéyiba, Kuserúwa fodú (the four corners), Ínchide yáki, Duggul, Amorébbi, Danróri, Dandínki, Turkáwa, Haski-n-káura, Sába-n-báuri, Ungóllo or Ngóllo, Adyrjáwa, Ombuwamáy, Ansága, Jínu, Mbánau, Aúra, Dansagí, Dánkashí, Bágada, Bowáy, Shénteli káramá, Shénteli babá, Grássemí, Mágaji-Edíris, Gági, Mejébbamá, Máriná-dan-Gámmu, Jírayí-baba-n-Háusa, Kammasáwa, Dansakáwu, Sakayáwa, Máriná dan máriná, Tokkumáwa, Dambókulum, Marrakáda, Kokóchikó, Propporokáya, Barazakaña, Tebki-n-chémi, Fari-n-yáro, Kádam baki-n-gulbí, Yawal-khawári, Baskoráye, Kautáwa, Rúkum, Góngom, Daggabáwa, Kasáwa, Bagauzamáwa, Ilsáwa, Chiserakáwa, Komming, Hannuzeráwa, Gulbáwa, Hanníni-básará, Moichi, Rímaye-algári, Zambadáwa, Baskoráwa, Mariyadáwa. These are the names of the larger quarters of the town; but there are still a good many smaller ones.

[557]II.—Chief Places in the Province of Kátsena.

The names of the principal places belonging to the province of Kátsena are as follows:—On the west side of the capital: Jengéfi, Yangéro, Búggaji, Baráwa, Kangwa, Kangwáji, Záuri, Kurfi or Kúrrefi, Sháfo, Ráwani, Kúsa, Kómi, Atagaráwa, Kabakáwa, Sóri, Tsáni, Úruma, Úmmadáwu, Kógo, Fáskari, Tsaskia, Sakka, Gunki, Runka, Takabáwa, Dyrrú, Guzoráwa, Automáki, Motázu, Sayáya, Karófi, Géza, Raweó, Ganwa, Farí-n-rúa, Kadándaní, Dóka, Máji, Sabóngarí, Yatáwa, Kadakáwa, Shibdáwa, Bindáwa, Kamrí, Táma, Kusáda, Káfardá, Yakofáwa, Ingáwa or Ngáwa, Dorú, Jáni, Dawané, Yáme, Duwáng, Kógadó, Ajiyáwa, Danyeám, Rinúnguzá, Kúragó, Kaita, Sábi, Kurfúndu, Yandáki, Shinkáfi, Kotyi, Berda, Mókordá, Tunáni, Bai, Kófi, Kúrtufá, Tsúntsuwa, Túrajó, Másabó, Lagéru, Kóddu, Kotta, Mámmarú, Máni, Túwarú, Jéndodó, Dúchi-n-rága, Tamalláwa, Sandáwa, Tábaní, Baréruwa, Goranzám. On the east side there are: Káya, Yáme (different from that above mentioned), Dagésamú, Debbáwa, Máshi, Ílel-ágalú, Ílel-labúkará, Mále-yabáni, Yoyo, Gárwa, Búkurú, Chille, Dankar, Túna, Yéndaká, Rúma, Merédabáy; Musáwa, Dangáli, Tafáshia, Kurkojángo, Dáyay, Sabó-n-bírni, Gángara, Seéya, Mahúta, Dándamay, Kúrremi, Dantýtturu, Danjá, Húriyá, Maska, Gózeki, Dúya, Dárwa, Túdu, Shenéli, Yangéme, Babélkazá, Daháukadá, Kuchéri, Kórumáwa, Machíka, Kiyéra, Báskari, Zágami, Sakafárda, Keffi-n-deñi, Keffi Pokkwa, Keffi Sille; Tsá, Kúndurú, Yashé; Garú-n-Señína, Karadúwa, Táku, Luggul, Kánkara dan Jémmaka, Tótali, Farú, Zágani, Ónaka, Rúwafí, Ájejá, Sábberé, Gúnki, Birki, Múnir, Táura, Dabáwa, Shéni, Ádemú. Towards Dáura there are: Dantótoní, Dandáre, Beñe, Karófi, Mákera, Yentomáki, Dákkaruwé, Sheléri, Samrí, Lámbisa, Tuddu, another Shéni, Dánkada, Fáskali, Koyéllo, bírni-n-Gwári, Madódo, Kurríga.

[558]III.—Chief Places in the Province of Kanó, and Routes diverging from Kanó in various Directions, principally towards the South.

As for the province of Kanó, it comprises a very fertile district of considerable extent, with the following walled towns: Yeríma, Gérki, Zánkara, Yáfen, Ríngim, Dúshi, Géa, Gérko, Dell, Udíl, Táura, Kúra (a place particularly famous for the beauty of its dyed cloth), Sákwa, Bebéji, Rímangadó, Dawáki, Gódia, Bíshi, Gezáwa, Zákeré, Killi, Méjia, Méga, Merké, Tákay, Sangáya (the place touched at by Clapperton), and the governor’s two pleasure towns Gógem and Fánisó.

Besides these walled towns, the most considerable places of the province are as follows: Ungógo, Dáwano, Zabenáwa, Gezé, Wóttarí, Góra, Mádobí, Salánta, Ammágwa, Dádi-n-dúnia, Gabezáwa, Dóko, Kwínke-alla, Dangayáme, Gurjáwa, Zongonkilli, Abegáni, Sákwa-n-Kumbóto, Zango, Gezí, Ráfi mʿallem, Rími-n-Asbenáwa, Dawáki, Gunó, Ranó (the town mentioned in p. 72., as having formerly been the seat of a kingdom or principality by itself), Ténneger, Kiyáwa, Kadwáwa, Takaláfia, Katákatá, Gazóbi (a village consisting of scattered groups), Danzóshia, Gulú, Ganí, Tamberáwa, Dáhasa, Gorzo, Karáye, Káfi-n-Agúr, Rukadáwa, Bóda, Taríva, Fáki, Kokí, Dawáki-n-Dambámbara (properly Da-n-Bámbara), Katángeráwe, Katánga-babá, Katánga-káramá, Katkázubá, Mʿallem, Kwíwa, Bunkóri (a considerable market-place, with much cultivation of rice), Ya-n-kásari, Tuddum Bíllané, Bacheráwa, Yamáta, Demé, Demé-n-da-n-karfi, Tunfáfi, Kuddadefáwa, Zango-n-da-n-Áudu, Pagínkayi, Jájira, Fofá, Dangúgwa, Zango Mala Áudu, Jelli, Mádachí, Mákodé, Konshi-n-gwárta, Yákasé, Yóla, and others.

I will here add some of the chief routes connecting Kanó with the principal places around, and which will best show its central situation. As for the routes to Kúkawa, of which I forwarded an account to Europe in 1851, I shall omit them,[559] as I had myself repeatedly sufficient occasion to become acquainted with this tract from my own observations. The route by Khadéja has been united with my own route.

I first give the route from Kanó to Zínder, the north-westernmost place of the empire of Bórnu, by way of Kazáure:—

1st day. Makóda, a large open place, consisting of cottages with clay walls and thatched roofs. The country level and densely inhabited. Arrive about the ʿaser.

2nd. Kazáure, residence of the governor Dámbo, formerly in direct dependence upon Sókoto, but at present in a certain degree of subordination to Kanó. The town is surrounded with a clay wall, and but thinly inhabited. A market is held every Monday. The neighbourhood of the town is rocky, and the country intervening between Kazáure and Makóda thickly covered with wood, without cultivation or an inhabited spot.

3rd. Mazánnia, a large place surrounded with a “kéffi” or stockade, said to be larger than Tasáwa; but the government of the town is generally divided, half of it belonging to Dáura, and the other half to Bórnu.

4th. Magáriyá, a large place with a kéffi, only about fifteen miles from the former. The surrounding country all covered with forest.

5th. Zínder, about ʿaser. There are no villages on the road except near Zínder.

I now add the road from Kazáure to Dáura, and from Dáura to Zínder. Keeping in a north-westerly direction from Kazáure, you reach on the first day, about ʿaser, Sándamu, an ancient town of considerable size, but with few inhabitants, and enter, on the following day, the town of Dáura, about two o’clock in the afternoon. The town of Dáura, which, as I have observed (p. 72.), is one of the oldest, if not the very[560] oldest[150] settlement of the Háusa people; and here too the Islám seems to have been introduced at an earlier date, certainly not later than its introduction into Kátsena by the grandson of Maghíli, the missionary, as is stated, having been a man from Baghdád, of the name of Mohammed ʿAlí, who killed the dodó, or the old fetish lion. I have already mentioned the magic well; and there are many other interesting traditions current with regard to the older history of the place. Dáura is a large town, surrounded with a strong clay wall in good repair, but is only thinly inhabited, and the Thursday market is of no importance. It is the capital of a province, and the residence of a governor dependent only on the Emír el Múmenín, and would certainly have been visited by me in one of my wanderings, if the governor, whose name is the same as that of the governor of Kátsena (Mohammed Béllo), and whose character is much worse, had not been notorious as an energetic and warlike, but unjust and rapacious fellow, with whom it would be more difficult to deal than with the highway robbers in the wilderness of Dánkama. But I recommend this place strongly to the notice of future travellers, as a great many native stories relate to it. It was once conquered by a prince of Múniyó named Sóriyó. All the country around is at present a wilderness; and there is very little cultivation.

Going from Dáura to Zínder in a N.N.E. direction, you sleep the first night in Kúrni, or Kúrreni, a small village surrounded with a stockade, being the frontier-place of the province of Dáura in this direction. It is situated in the midst of the forest, and is distant from the capital about six hours.

2nd day. Arrive at an early hour in the forenoon at Máshi, a small place surrounded with a stockade, and belonging to Zínder. Every Wednesday a market is held here.

[561]3rd. About ʿaser arrive at Bakí, a large place surrounded with a “kéffi.”

4th. Before noon arrive in Zínder. There are no villages on this road.

I now proceed to give the routes from Kanó towards the Bénuwé, which has been called Tshádda or Chádda in its lower course, merely from mistake, I think, while it has several other names. Záriya, or Zózó, the capital of the province of Zegzeg, was visited by Clapperton on his second journey; and its latitude can be laid down with certainty, its longitude with approximate correctness.[151] From this place some important routes, very frequently taken by native traders, and even sometimes by enterprising Arabs, branch off towards the places in the vicinity of the above-mentioned river. On the other hand, we have now, by Mr. Vogel’s observations, the exact position of Yákoba, the capital of the province Bolóboló, or Báuchi, and therefore generally called “Garú-n-Báuchi;” so that the most important places between Kanó and the river can be laid down with tolerable exactness. I will here only remark, that the general features of my hydrographical sketch of this district in 1852 have been entirely confirmed by Mr. Vogel’s observations, from which, although they are as yet very insufficiently known, it is clear that the central part of Báuchi, in which Yákoba is situated, is a high rocky plateau, the central ridge of which evidently forms the water-parting of the various rivers in opposite directions—the head-waters of the komádugu of Bórnu (generally called Yéou) towards the east, the Kadúna and Gurára (the Rari of Richard Lander), which unite near Bírni-n-Gwári, towards the west, and a branch of the Bénuwé, running first to the east and then turning southwards. The two most important[562] points with regard to the connection of Kanó, Záriya, and Yákoba with the lower course of the Bénuwé, are the towns of Kéffi-n-Abdezénga and Láfiya Beréberé, while the latter of these places is also one of the chief centres whence spreads the dominion of the Fúlbe, with misery and devastation, over the neighbouring tribes.

I will here give the route from Kanó by way of Záriya to Kéffi-n-Abdezénga, which goes from Záriya almost directly southward. The stations are very short.

 1st day. Mádobí, a place with a market. Pass in the morning the “kogí,” or kogí-n-Kanó.

 2nd. Reach Bebéji about ten o’clock A.M.[152]

 3rd. About one o’clock P.M. arrive at Rími-n-Káura, a group of villages with a rivulet running east.

 4th. About nine o’clock A.M. reach Báki-n-Kamínda, a cluster of scattered villages, called by this name from a rivulet Kamínda or Kamánda, which skirts it.

 5th. About eleven o’clock A.M. reach a walled town called Da-n-Sóshia, rich in date-trees. Here is the frontier of the province of Kanó towards that of Záriya, marked by a large “kúrremi” dry in summer.

 6th. A little after noon reach a small river called Kubútutu, running east, but afterwards turning south and joining the Kadúna, which drains all this part of the country. On the bank of the rivulet is a village called Anshó.

 7th. About 11 o’clock A.M., after a journey through a woody country, reach Rúma, a large place but thinly inhabited, and surrounded with walls in decay.

 8th. About the same hour you reach a walled place called Likóro, where a market is held every other day. All the country is thickly wooded and uncultivated.

 9th. Between nine and ten o’clock in the morning, after[563] having crossed a rivulet which sometimes presents difficulty in the rainy season, you arrive at Záriya.

10th. About noon arrive at a village called Ungwa Árendé. Small waterpools on the road.

11th. About eleven o’clock A.M. reach Kaséllu, a walled place with the wall in a state of decay, and with a market held every other day.

12th. About the same hour arrive at Gímba, a large walled place, but thinly inhabited.

13th. Reach Mátarí, a large place. Between Gímba and Mátarí, nearer the latter, is a kúrremi, which during the rainy season can be crossed only in boats.

14th. Kábi, a considerable walled market-place.

15th. Reach a small village called Kásabó, situated on a mountain-range running eastward. The whole country is mountainous; and a little before you reach Kásabó you pass a high mountain with a village on its top.

16th. Encamp in the forest called “Dáwa-n-serkí-n-Fáwa,” where there is a kúrremi, dry during the hot season.

17th. A small village of the district Kadára, ravaged by the Fúlbe.

18th. During the dry season you reach a place called Jére (not Tére), while in the rainy season you encamp on the shore of the Gurára, the chief branch of the Kadúna, which cannot be crossed but in boats. The country mountainous.

19th. Reach a small village called Kámané; country mountainous.

20th. A small place called Káterí, situated on a kogí, with water at all seasons of the year, and well wooded. It joins the Gurára.

21st. A straggling village called Góla-mínda, inhabited entirely by Fúlbe or Féllani. The country level, with mountains in the distance.

[564]22nd. Kogáro, a considerable market place; country mountainous, irrigated by many streamlets.

23rd. Fajári, a small place with a wall in decay; country level, with plenty of water.

24th. Bagáji, a considerable walled market-place.

25th. Kéffi-n-Abdezénga, a large place, where a market is held every day. The country in general is flat, with a high mountain to the west. Plenty of watercourses.

Láfiya Beréberé, originally a colony of the Bórnu people, called Beréberé by the Háusáwa, is five days E.S.E. from Kéffi-n-Abdezénga, and two days and a half from a place called Toní, between Darróro and Kéffi. Darróro was visited by Richard Lander, who calls it Danroro; but this place, as well as the important place Katab (called by him Kuttup), has been laid down very erroneously from his indications. I therefore give here the

Route from Záriya by Katab to Darróro; first part S.E., then S.S.E.

 1st day. Egébbi (called Ejibi by Lander), a place surrounded with a wall, but not of large size.

 2nd. Dawáki, a middle-sized place, lying west from Káuru, a town which we shall soon connect with Kanó. About one day south from Dawáki lies a mountainous district, with the village Libélle, inhabited by pagans.

 3rd. Sháffero, a place surrounded with a wall, and dependent on Káuru. The inhabitants are said to eat dogs.

 4th. Encamp on the bank of the river Kadúna (báki-n-Kadúna), with a village N.E. from the river.

 7th. Katab, a district consisting of a great number of hamlets, very rich in honey, and with a good cultivation of sorghum, millet, cotton, and sesamum. A small[565] rivulet or torrent intersects the district, running towards the north. Pass the two preceding nights in two small villages, the names of which my informant had forgotten; most probably they are identical with Gídan Bakáya (not G. Banaya) and Kála. One long day’s march N.E. from Katab, is the pagan district Sháwe, wherein the Kadúna is said to take its rise.

 8th. Kajé, a village situated on the top of a hill, other villages being scattered about in the plain.

 9th. Dangóma, a small slave-village belonging to Darróro, situated on the top of a mountain. About the middle of your day’s march you cross the river Gurára, running through a deep valley, and forming a cascade at some distance N.E. from Darróro. It runs westward, though in a very winding course, and joins the Kadúna near the town of Gwári. This is evidently the river which Lander calls Rári, and which, its course not being accurately observed by him, as he had to cross it repeatedly, has given rise to that unfortunate theory of Capt. William Allen, with regard to the connection of the Chadda with Lake Chád, or rather Tsád.

10th. Darróro, a town in a strong position, surrounded with an artificial wall only on the north side; still belonging to the province of Zegzeg. At some distance from it, in the plain, there is a new Féllani settlement called Jemáʿa-n-Darróro; the word jemmáʿa, or, as it is generally pronounced, jemmára, “the congregation,” being the characteristic word for the religious and political reformation of the Fúlbe. There is a direct road from Katab to Jemmáʿa, passing by the small open place called “Madáwaki-n-mútuwa,” where the mountainous district commences. It was in Darróro that Richard Lander thought that he was but a few miles distant from Yákoba, the capital of Báuchi, while in reality he seems to have been, in a[566] direct line, about one hundred miles distant from it; and as this line, owing to the mountainous nature of the country and the wild and unsubdued spirit of its pagan inhabitants, is not passable, he was about a hundred and sixty miles from it by the ordinary track.

The Route from Jemmáʿa-n-Darróro to Kéffi-n-Abdezénga, with the Branch Road to Láfiya Beréberé.

1st day. Kogóm, a small place on the slope of the mountain, and inhabited by slaves. The neighbourhood is thickly covered with forest, through which, on the west side of the village, the Gurára winds along, being here navigable for boats, at least in the rainy season. Arrive at noon.

2nd. Gwári-n-kúrremi, a large open place in the wilderness; no hills. A small torrent runs N.W. in the direction of Káteri. About noon.

3rd. Toní, a large walled place with much cultivation and many hamlets dotting the neighbourhood; about noon. From hence a road leads to Láfiya Beréberé in three days, S.E.

4th. Likóro, a large town with a clay wall; the houses built half of clay, half of shíbki; a good day’s march. There is another more circuitous way from Toní to Likóro, passing by Tonúng-mádaki, a place situated in a valley with much forest, and not far north from two places surrounded with clay walls, one of which is called Tonúng-wámbay—and by “Gulbí-n-túnka,” a small open place with much cultivation, which has received this name from the Háusa travellers, on account of its being situated on a small stream (gulbí) running northwards.

5th. Kéffi-n-Abdezénga, a large town surrounded with a clay wall, and situated at the eastern foot of the mountains; the town partly yumbú, partly shíbki. Arrive about dhohor.

[567]Routes uniting Kéffi-n-Abdezénga with Tóto and Fánda.

From Kéffi-n-Abdezénga to Tóto there are several roads, the stations of which are at the following places:—

 1st day. Gongóndara, a large place with a wall in decay. Plenty of water; the mountains are at some distance.

 2nd. Gwágwa, a middle-sized town surrounded with a clay wall; to the east a considerable mountain-group.

 3rd. Támma, a large walled place in a plain with much water.

 4th. Dógeri, a place of middle size, the frontier-place (in 1851) of the extensive province of Zegzeg, and of the independent kingdom of Fánda.[153]

 5th. Ógobe, a large walled market-place belonging to Tóto.[154] The neighbourhood is a plain abounding in water.

 6th. Ganó, a considerable open place; country flat; plenty of trees, particularly of those called mája.

 7th. Enter Tóto in the morning.

Another road, sometimes uniting with the former, at others diverging from it, passes by the following places:

 1st day. Yánkardé; short march.

 2nd. Gwágwa; short march.

 3rd. Bókoko.

 4th. A large village of the Bása; about noon.

 5th. A large town situated in a plain, and surrounded with a clay wall; the inhabitants speak the Bása language, but pay tribute to Záriya. My informant called this[568] town Gorgóndara; but I think he must be mistaken.

 6th. Wári, a large open place with much cultivation of corn; the whole country is flat. Arrive about noon.

 7th. Kargo, a village. The country level, and covered with forest.

 8th. Gwári-n-Kargo, a village, the frontier-place of the territory of Zegzeg (that is to say, in 1851; but since the end of the year 1853, it appears, both from what Dr. Baikie and his companions learnt on their interesting and successful expedition up the river Bénuwé, and from what I myself heard on my return to Kanó from my journey to Timbúktu, that the Fúlbe, partly by treachery, partly by warfare, have made great progress in this direction, extending their depredations to the very bank of the river). A small stream or torrent skirts the side of the village, running towards the Kadúna; here is more cultivation. Arrive in the forenoon.

 9th. Another open village of the Bása, with a good deal of cultivation; arrive about noon.

10th. Ungwa Limáng, a small village inhabited by the people of the prince of Tóto; rocky ground, and a small rivulet or brook.

11th. About two o’clock in the afternoon arrive in Tóto, a large town protected on the west side by a woody fáddama or valley, and on the other sides surrounded with a clay wall. The town is said to be of about the same enormous dimensions as Kanó (that is to say, about fifteen miles in circuit), but more densely inhabited, and divided into two distinct quarters, the western and the eastern, the former being inhabited by the natives, or the Katáwa[155], as they are called by the[569] Háusa people, who have a distinct language (probably related to the Bása and Núpe languages), and are pagans; while the eastern quarter is the dwelling-place of the Moslemín, viz. people from Kátsena, Kanó, and Bórnu, who have a chief for themselves, called el Imám, a name corrupted by the Háusa people into that of Limáng. This Limáng is regarded in general by the travellers as the prince; but, according to more accurate information, the town and province of Tóto seems to be under the direct government of the sultan of Tánda (not Fánda), whose name is Shémmage, and who receives a great quantity of European goods, chiefly muskets, which form his strength, from the inhabitants of Tágara or Kotú-n-karfi, as the district is generally called by the Háusa people, near the junction of the Bénuwé with the Kwára. This prince, by his energy and watchfulness, had kept the conquering Fúlbe in awe; and he prohibited, with the utmost diligence, suspicious people from being admitted into his town. He may therefore, even after the fall of Fánda or Pánda, which was in a wretched condition, and was taken by treachery in the beginning of 1853, have preserved his independence; but I am not quite sure about it. Be this as it may, surrounded on all sides by enemies, he will scarcely be able to hold out long. Tóto, as far as I was able to make out (although there does not appear to have ever been much intercourse between the two towns), is distant from Fánda from thirty to thirty-five miles E.N.E. It is, besides, three days from Kotú-n-karfi, a place the position of which is well established, and four days from Sansan Ederísu, a place likewise well known from the Niger expeditions, so that we can place Tóto with tolerable exactness.

I here subjoin the itinerary from Tóto to Sansan Ederísu:—

[570] 1st day. Zángó-n-kará, a village inhabited by Núpe people, and situated in a valley tolerably wooded.

 2nd. Agáya, a large town surrounded with a clay wall, dependent on the governor of Záriya, but inhabited by Núpe people. Soon after you leave Zángó-n-kará in the morning, you cross a river called Gúrma by my informant, who crossed it in a boat; it runs northward. The country is well cultivated, and many villages are scattered about.

 3rd. Kúrremi, a town surrounded with a stockade and a clay wall, but of smaller size than Agáya. A small rivulet, not navigable, skirts the town, running northwards; it is called Kúdduba.

 4th. Sansan Ederísu, a large open village not far from the shore of the Kwára, opposite Égga. The country well cultivated.

I will now join Katab with Kanó.

Route from Kanó to Katab.

1st day. Bebéji, the town mentioned above; in the morning you cross a small watercourse, with a village on its south border, called Báki-n-kogí, then pass Góra, and in the afternoon Mádobí, with a brook running towards Bebéji; arrive here at sunset.

2nd. Báuda, a large town surrounded with a clay wall, and lying around a rocky eminence. In the morning cross the rivulet Kamánda. A short march. Báuda is the furthest town of Kanó in this direction.

3rd. Páke, an open place on a deep rivulet, which (often) is not fordable; it runs westward, and seems to be identical with the kogí-n-Kubútutu, which is crossed on the road from Bebéji to Záriya, near the village Ánsho. There are several small hamlets on the roadside; but cultivation is not very extensive. Arrive a little after noon.

[571]4th. Kó-zintú, a walled place, the huts consisting of reeds; arrive at noon. No village on the road, but a good deal of cultivation.

5th. Zintú, a large walled place with clay houses, on a considerable rivulet passing by Záriya, and running westward. It is said not to be fordable (probably only in the rainy season), two boats being constantly employed for carrying over travellers. It has no fish. I think it is the same river with the kogí-n-Gédia, which is crossed on the road from Kanó to Sabóngarí. A short march.

6th. Káuru, a large town surrounded with a clay wall and lying on a considerable and navigable rivulet running eastward (not westward); arrive in the afternoon. The country is covered with dense forest.

7th. Sháffero, the village mentioned in p. 564.

8th. Gída-n-bakáya, an open village inhabited by pagans, but under the dominion of the Fúlbe; arrive at noon, having crossed in the morning the Kadúna running westward. The country very woody.

9th. Katab; pass in the morning the village Kalá.

Route from Kanó to Yákoba.

1st day. You arrive early in the forenoon at Sákwa, a place situated on a running stream called “kogí-n-Sákwa.” In the morning you pass the village of Dawáki. Sákwa was visited by Clapperton.

2nd. About two o’clock P.M. arrive at Dell, a considerable town said to be larger than Tasáwa, after having passed another populous place, not much less than Dell, called Gérko. The whole country is well cultivated; and there is but little jéji, or uncultivated land, on the road. In Róro, S.W. about one day from Dell, there are mines.

3rd. A little after noon arrive at Párna, a place not so[572] large as Dell, and situated at the foot of a mountain, by the side of a small rivulet. During the morning you pass a village named Gédia, between which and Párna there is a little wilderness.

4th. At noon you arrive at a place called Tébki (probably so called from a pond), situated at the foot of the mountains, and the frontier-place between the province of Kanó and that of Báuchi. The whole march leads through a wild mountainous country, covered with wood.

5th. Arrive in the morning at Sabó-n-garí, a place situated in the plain, and important on account of the road from Záriya (the details of which I shall directly subjoin) joining in this place the track which leads from Kanó. The country is well cultivated; and the people during the rainy season dwell in huts, scattered through the fields, while during the dry season they retire to the tops of the mountains. Soon after leaving Tébki in the morning, you cross a small brook, and then pass a place called Shébshi.

6th. A place whose name I cannot make out at present.

7th. Zaránda, a considerable village situated in the plain, while towards the east rises a very lofty mountain mass, said to be the highest mountain in Bolóboló or Báuchi. The whole country is under cultivation; and hamlets or small villages are met in every direction. Close to Zaránda is a rivulet, said by my informant to run eastward.[156] Arrive in the afternoon.

8th. Yákoba (thus the name is generally pronounced, although more correctly the accent ought to be given to the second syllable, thus, Yakóba, or rather Yakúba) the capital of the province of Bolóboló or Báuchi, founded by Yakúb the father of the present[573] governor Ibrahíma. Selmán (properly ʿOthmán), the name given by this informant to the governor, is, I think, the name of his brother, who during his long absence has the government of the town. The town is large, and has twelve gates; there is no running water near the town, and the inhabitants supply themselves from ráfona, or hollows. All the country is under cultivation, and the neighbourhood is rich in hamlets. The road keeps along the plain, all laid out in fields, shaded with trees.

The character of this town, which I have thus laid down from information, has, in opposition to the prevalent opinion that Yákoba is situated on a river, been entirely confirmed by Mr. Vogel’s very important journey. Coming from the east, he found Yákoba situated on a stony elevated level, without any running stream, but well supplied with water, which collects round the walls of the town. He has found its position to be 10° 47′ 30″ N. lat., and 9° 28′ 0″ E. of Gr. In consequence of the long absence of the governor Ibrahíma (who, having sworn not to return to his capital until he shall have subdued a warlike pagan tribe, has been living now seven years in his “sansánne,” or encampment, about 65 miles N.N.W. from the capital), Mr. Vogel found Yákoba rather thinly inhabited. He has not yet forwarded an account of the elevation of this place; but I believe that it will not be much less than two thousand feet.[157]

Route from Katab to Yákoba.

1st day. About ʿaser reach Alhájji, a considerable village belonging to the province of Zegzeg, and situated at the west foot of a mountain. The whole road leads through forest.

[574]2nd. About noon arrive at Sabó-n-bírni, a small village consisting of shíbki. The road is partly covered with forest, and partly cultivated; but there are no villages, the people, during the rainy season, coming from a great distance to cultivate the country.

3rd. About noon reach Ríruwe, a considerable place surrounded by an earthen wall, and having a well-attended market every Tuesday. Ríruwe is at a short distance south from Sabó-n-garí; and many persons going from Kanó to Yákoba, prefer joining this road and leaving the other at Sabó-n-garí.

4th. About one o’clock P.M. reach Úmbutú, or Mbutú, a village situated at the foot of a mountain, on the top of which there is another place of the same name. The inhabitants, who are very fierce, wear a bone stuck through the chin. They do not pay any tribute to the Féllani of Záriya nor to those of Yákoba, and constantly intercept the communication—as happened, indeed, in 1851, during my stay in Kanó. Near the first village is a rivulet which joins the Gurára, one of the tributary streams of the Kwára. The whole march leads through forest.

5th. About one o’clock P.M. reach Wárji, a village situated at the foot of a large mountain extending far to the west, on the top of which there are other villages of the same name, whose inhabitants wage war against the Féllani. Informant states that the inhabitants of the valley pay tribute to the governor of Kanó; but I think he means that of Báuchi. Cattle of a particular kind called múturú are frequent here, much smaller than the ox, with shorter legs, without the hump, and of a grey colour. I saw a specimen of this kind afterwards in Kúkawa.

6th. About ʿaser reach Mélanláwel, a considerable place with a clay wall, situated in the plain at the S.E. foot[575] of the large mountain mass already mentioned. The whole country is laid out in cultivated fields.

7th. After ʿaser arrive at Zaránda; the country partly wild and partly cultivated.

8th. At noon reach Yákoba.

I now proceed to give the routes from different points, obtained by the construction of the former itineraries, and corrected also by the recent observations of European travellers, to Wukári, the capital of that very interesting country Korórofa, which, unfortunately, was not reached by the late expedition on the river Bénuwé.

Close to Láfiya Beréberé, begins the territory of the Dóma, the capital of which, called likewise Dóma (at least by my informants), is only one day from Láfiya, and five days from Kéffi-n-Abdezénga, the road from this latter place to Dóma passing by Haríri, a large town still dependent upon Záriya, and distant three days from the former, and two from the latter town. This Dóma is a large walled town; but already in the year 1851 its governor was obliged to pay a small tribute to the governor of Záriya. A great number of Nyffáwa, or people from Núpe, are said to live here.

From Dóma there seem to be two roads to Wukári, although I frankly confess that the information which I obtained with regard to them, as well as to other parts of Korórofa, was not so clear as I might have wished. One of these routes crosses the river at a spot called Chínkay; the other does not name the ferry. Chínkay is not among the places laid down hereabouts in the survey of the Bénuwé expedition; but it is evidently either identical with, or near to Anyíshi.

From Dóma my informant goes to Kúberé; thence to Kadérku (the Bridge), a town belonging to Dóma; thence to Kiyána, or Keána, a considerable market-place, which he calls “bírni-n-Korórofa, kása-n-Báuchi,” the inhabitants paying tribute as well to the Púllo governor of Báuchi as to[576] the native king of Korórofa. From this place, which is often mentioned in the proceedings of the Bénuwé expedition, my informant goes to Túnga, which he calls “Garí-n-gisherí,” stating the memorable fact, not mentioned in those proceedings, that salt is obtained there. Close to Túnga is a kogí or rivulet joining the Bénuwé, or rather, I think, a creek of the river. My informant then crosses the river and reaches Chínkay, which lies at a little distance—as he states, in a southerly direction—from a large place called Owí. From Chínkay he proceeds to Ákkona, which is evidently identical with the Akkwana of Crowther, who, however, does not mention the interesting fact that “kohol” or antimony is obtained there; from Ákkona to Jíddu (a place not mentioned by Crowther), in a locality with small rocky mounts starting up from the plain; thence to Árfu, and thence again to Wukári.

The other shorter route (if, indeed, it be complete) goes from Dóma to Mínchi, which is called “Bírni kása-n-Kiyána,” a walled town of the territory of the Kiyána; thence to Agáya (evidently different from the place of the same name between Tóto and Égga, and therefore by one of my informants called “Mínchi-n-Agáya); from this directly to Árfu, crossing the Bénuwé somewhere below Anyíshi; thence by Fíya to Wukári.

I now give an itinerary from Darróro to Wukári, unfortunately of the same abridged and incomplete character. Proceeding at a slow rate with short stations, my informant goes first to a large place called Zúngur; thence crossing a small rivulet, which he calls by the very unscientific name of “kogí-n-Mamúdu” (the river of Makhmúd), to Dull, a large but dilapidated place dependent on Yákoba; thence to Gar, a small place in a mountainous district: thence to Búrrum, the country continuing mountainous; thence to Gémbat; thence to Wáze, a very large town, said (probably with some exaggeration) to be as large as Kanó, and the residence of a governor or chief named Hamma ben ʿAbdu. It stands upon[577] a mountain or hill; and a river or creek is said to skirt the town.

This important place can be reached in three good days’ marches from Yákoba, sleeping the first night, after a very long and fatiguing day’s journey through a mountainous country (granite, as it seems), in Gásge, a town as large as Ngórnu, inhabited by Fúlbe and native pagans, and the second in Yúnguru. Yúnguru is a town inhabited by the conquering tribe, while the native pagans live in straggling villages along the valleys. This is another long day’s march, and the country mountainous. The third day’s journey is shorter; and Wáze is reached after about eight hours’ march. In the dry season at least, when the river may be easily crossed either by swimming or even occasionally by fording it, a good tourist will reach Wukári from Wáze in one day. My informant, proceeding at a slow rate, and perhaps not in a direct line, went from this to Dámpar, a place near the Bénuwé, where it has come under the notice of the Bénuwé expedition; then, crossing several creeks which he calls “ráfi-n-dórina,” and “kogí-n-Deñi,” and the river itself, passed the places Mákera, Usé (a small village in the plain), then Aíkiri (with a kogí) and a place which he calls Zangó Ladán (probably the station, “zangó,” where a toll or tax, “ladán,” is paid, and thus at length reached the capital Wukári.

I have also a soi-disant itinerary from Láfiya Beréberé to Wukári; but I will only name the places situated on this route without stating the order in which they succeed each other. These are Oví, which seems to be a large town distant one day from Ázzara, which is said to be west from Aíkiri, the place mentioned above; then Kíbi, Dóya, Áboné, Aíro, Kanjé, Agwatáshi, Dédderé.

I will now say a few words about Wukári, the capital of Korórofa, which it is much to be regretted that the last expedition on the river was unable to reach; but the next will, I hope, be more successful in this respect[158], if they[578] have the good fortune of finding the country still in a flourishing state. Even the name of this important place was scarcely known[159] before my researches in 1851, while the name of the country, Korórofa, though well known to former geographers, had been erased from recent maps. Wukári was placed in my map close to the river, a few miles only too far north and east; but had I been able to correct it according to my latest information, from which I learnt that it lay not on the main river itself, but on a small branch[160], I should have laid it down exactly in the right position.

Wukári lies on the west side of a small rivulet, called, by my Háusa informants, “kogí-n-Kalám,” which is said to join the Bénuwé, or, as the great river is called in at least one of the dialects of Korórofa, which seems not to have come under the notice of the expedition, “Zánfir.” In a straight line, Wukári is only a good morning’s walk (“tafíyan hantsi”)—that is, about ten miles—from the shores of the Bénuwé. The town is said to be very large, even larger than Kanó; not however, like the latter, embracing a wide extent of fields, but densely inhabited to the very walls. The people do not drink the water of the rivulet which skirts their town, but supply their wants from ponds in its interior, probably like those in Kanó. They are distinguished by their dark complexion, and features not disfigured by shasháwa or tattooing, by their long hair and their neat shirts, or rather plaids, “zénne,” which they wrap round the body. Indeed the inhabitants of Korórofa are celebrated all over[579] this part of Africa for their cotton cloth, which is said to be of very fine texture, but also very narrow, being only the breadth of two fingers. They are said to have a peculiar kind of cotton called “worzi” by the Arabs, and mentioned already by that accurate and princely geographer Abú ʿObéd Allah el Bekri, in 1068, though without naming the district of Negroland where the plant grew[161], and not without some exaggeration. There seems to be a kind of coffee indigenous to the country. A great deal of dóya, or yam, is cultivated; and áyaba (Musa paradisiaca) seems to be the most common tree in the southern provinces. The only essential defect under which this nation suffers, besides their division into many separate tribes, seems to be the despotism of the government, which evidently checks also the energy of the people in defending their independence against the restless Fúlbe, who are constantly gaining ground, and, if Her Britannic Majesty’s government do not hasten to interfere, will in a very short time take possession of this kingdom.

All the handicrafts, as those of blacksmiths, saddlers, &c., are under the immediate control of the king, and can be exercised only by his own people. He monopolizes the foreign trade, none of his subjects having a right to buy. The name of the present king is said to be Ánju Zénki. His authority, nevertheless, does not now seem to extend, in reality, far beyond the walls of Wukári; and the Háusa traders, while they give him the title of “serkí-n-gulbí” (lord of the river), call the governor of Chónkoy, or Gónkoy, “serkí-n-géro” (lord of the corn, or rather millet), intimating that the country-towns are rather in the hands of this latter prince. The inhabitants of Wukári, as well as of the towns in the interior, are expressly stated to be armed only with spears, none but the people near the banks of the Bénuwé using bows. Small articles are bought and[580] sold for iron hoes, called “akíka,” of which forty will buy a slave; more valuable objects are bartered for salt or clothes.[162]

East, about one day’s journey from Wukári, are said to be Júggum and Gónkoy: Júggum is the name of a considerable place; but as for Gónkoy, I was unable to ascertain whether it was the name of a district or a town. Gónkoy is said to be three days and a half from Bú-mánda, the stations on the road being at the villages or towns of Úriyó, Úrbo, then, near the máyo, Mantáje (?), Bú-mánda being reached on the fourth day; and I have another itinerary leading from Bú-mánda to Júggum in five days, through a country desolated by those predatory wars by which the Fúlbe are so distinguished. Only one day before reaching Júggum there is a place inhabited by pagans, called Gánte. I will further mention here some places around Wukári: though, from the imperfect character of my information, I am not able to lay them down on the map, nevertheless I hope a list of them will prove useful to the next expedition up the river. Along the south side of the river are said to lie east from Gónkoy the places Balli, Júbu, Tinto; one day south from Wukári the town Kónte; then westward, and towards the north-west, the following places, some of them on the north side of the Bénuwé: Kúrgoy (a walled town), Úngosálla, Toríña, Ákata (near a rivulet, the residence of a chief called Jímmi), Kondé, Bémbem, Mínchi-n-Agáya (on the north side of the Bénuwé), Kátsena Alla (a name most probably corrupted by the Háusa traders), a large town situated on the east side of a river or rivulet. Between Kátsena Alla and Fánda there are said to be the following places: Zangó kogí-n-Alla (a whimsical fatáki name—that is to say, used by the native[581] traders), with Mínchi or Múnchi (Mitsi) inhabitants, Dúchi-n-Díkku (a place situated between two mountains), the town Gedímmir, and the town Áyirkú-n-girké.

Korórofa does not appear to be the native name either of the country or of the tribe; but I cannot exactly say whether it only originates with the Háusa traders, and whether the name Djúku, or Júku, applies to the whole nation or only to a portion of it. Bábai, or Báibai, I think is not the original native name of the people, but only an appellation given them by the Háusa traders. There are certainly several different dialects prevailing in the country, since that of which I wrote down some hundred words from the mouth of the Koána or Kwána Ábbade, a native of the village Búmánda, appears to have very little, if any, relation to the Tiwi of Koelle, or the Mitsi of Crowther, or to any other mentioned by them; but it must be borne in mind that the gentlemen composing the expedition seem not to have collected any specimens whatever of the Djúku, which they themselves state to be the language of Korórofa, and I feel satisfied that the dialect spoken by the Kwána differs but little from that of the people of Wukári. The Kwána (called Konáwa by the Háusa people), at least those of Júggum, have the curious and disgusting custom of forming an artificial ulcer behind the ear, which in Wadáy is the distinguishing mark of valour. They wear white and black shirts, and have horses and cattle. They cultivate various species of Negro corn, and have many large trees. This same informant of mine, Ábbade, named to me the following divisions of the Korórofa, which I give here as an imperfect notice, hoping that it may lead succeeding travellers to further inquiries and to clearer information: the Agáwi, Jímmolo, Churíbolo (the second syllable is not clear in my manuscript journal), Bashikkári, Jemsáli, Bakawelíno, Kéwe, Ndau, Bínderi, Jáufeni.

Having given what little information I have been able to gather with regard to that interesting region on the river[582] Bénuwé, I now proceed to subjoin a few details illustrating the geography of the provinces between Yákoba and Katágum; for the country between the former place and the Bénuwé will, I hope, soon be amply illustrated by Mr. Vogel’s observations, who seems to have traversed the triangular tract of country inclosed between Gómbe, Yákoba, and Hamárruwa in several directions, and to have come into intimate, though at times hostile, contact with the natives. The position of Gómbe, which he has fixed by astronomical observations in lat. 10° 49′ N., and long. 10° 16′ E., is an important check upon the construction of the materials obtained by me with regard to this tract of country; and I openly confess that, with regard to Gómbe, which I had no means of connecting with a southern point, I have erred in laying it down much too far south, while with respect to the latitude assigned by me to Hamárruwa, which I was able to connect with Yóla, I have scarcely erred a single mile—a result which I hope will inspire some confidence in my numerous geographical deductions from native information.

I start from Katágum, a place twice visited by Captain Clapperton, and laid down by him correctly, no doubt, with regard to latitude, while with regard to longitude it has to be shifted, as I shall elsewhere show, about forty geographical miles further west.

Route from Katágum to Gómbe, the Capital of Bobéru.

1st day. Early in the morning, between nine and ten o’clock, you reach Sókkuwa, a large place surrounded by an earth wall on the western bank of the “kogí-n-Katágum,” the water of which is used by the inhabitants for drinking. In the dry season there is no stream of running water, but merely stagnant pools. The houses of Sókkuwa are built partly of yumbú (clay), partly of shíbki (reed). A market is held here every Saturday. On the road many small villages are passed.

[583]2nd. About eleven o’clock arrive at Kéffi, a large village surrounded by a stockade, and belonging to the province of Katágum. Many small villages on the road.

3rd. An hour after noon reach Hardáwa, a large place surrounded with a clay wall, also under Katágum. On the road are many villages. The soil consists of sand, and trees are scarce.

4th. Arrive at Mésau, a large place surrounded with a clay wall, capital of the province of the same name, and residence of a governor whose name, or rather title, at present is Yeríma. The houses consist of clay walls with thatched conical roofs, the palace of the governor alone being built entirely of earth. A considerable market is held here every Friday. It seems very remarkable that the inhabitants of this town are said to be all Fúlbe or Féllani. The soil all around consists of sand.

5th. About noon Dárasó, a large walled place belonging to the province of Báuchi, to the capital of which leads a frequented route from hence, which I shall subjoin immediately. In the morning you cross a rivulet in the midst of the forest.

6th. About two or half-past two o’clock P.M. reach Tawíya, a large place with an earthen wall now in decay; most of the inhabitants pagans; the whole country covered with dense forest. N.B. The road from Dárasó turns a little east from south.

7th. Early in the morning, about nine o’clock, arrive at Gómbe, a large walled place and the capital of the province Bobéru, which is said to have received its name from the late governor: the name of the present one is Koriyénga; his house is the only good building in the town.

[584]Route from Dárasó to Yákoba.

 1st day. About the ʿaser reach Sóro, a small open place situated at the western foot of a rock. The road lies through a mountainous country, the first half of it being thickly wooded.

 2nd. About one o’clock P.M. arrive at Kírfi, a large open place at the foot of the rocks, inhabited entirely by pagans. The whole road is intersected by high mountains with perennial springs.

 3rd. About eleven o’clock A.M. reach Týrrem, a large open place surrounded by mountains towards the east and south. On the road you pass several small villages situated on the tops of the mountains, and inhabited by pagans.

 4th. Early in the morning, about nine o’clock, arrive at Yákoba; all the road mountainous, the tops of the mountains being inhabited.

N.B. The route from Gómbe to Yákoba I shall not give, as my imperfect itinerary will, I hope, soon be superseded by the rich materials of Mr. Vogel and his companion Corporal Macguire. I have, however, many materials for the district hereabout, which may be laid down with great approximative certainty as soon as an accurate basis is obtained by Mr. Vogel’s route. For the same reason I will not give the itinerary from Gómbe to Gújeba, but only connect one important point of this route—Dúkku, which I hope will have been touched at by my friend, with Yóla.

This route from Yóla to Dúkku is very dangerous, and is not now taken by the Fúlbe; but such was the case in the times of their greatest youthful vigour. I will only observe that Dúkku lies one day and a half E. by N. from Gómbe. My informant, Mʿallem Katúri, starts from Yóla.

 1st day. After crossing the Bénuwé, pass through the mountainous district of the Zéna.

[585] 2nd. District of the Úrgeni, another pagan tribe living on the mountains.

 3rd. District of the Tángalé, a tribe with whom Mr. Vogel has, on his more western route from Hamárruwa to Gómbe, come in contact.

 4th. Fánda, another pagan tribe.

 5th. Dembé.

 6th. Chongóm. All these are independent pagan tribes, the country being mountainous. Road very unsafe.

 7th. Téra, a settlement of the Fúlbe of Bobéru; here security commences.

 8th. Ína, a large town of pagans in a state of subjection. At the foot of the mountains is a torrent running west, sometimes not fordable; it probably joins the northern branch of the Bénuwé.

 9th. Kámbo, a pagan village.

10th. Kom, a pagan village.

11th. Dúkku.

Dúkku is two days from Gómbe:—

 1st. Wángelé.

 2nd. Gómbe, the present residence of Kóriyénga, the son of Bobéru the Púllo conqueror from whom the province has received its name, and the brother of Suléy. It is situated on the south side of a large watercourse called Náfada. This place was visited by Mr. Vogel in 1855, and found from observation to be in lat. 10° 49′ N., long. 10° 16′ E. from Gr.

Route from Katágum to Shéra, S.S.W.

1st day. About ʿaser reach Gubú, a large open place belonging to the province of Katágum. The country open, partly cultivated and inhabited, and partly covered with forest.

2nd. About eleven o’clock reach Úzum, a small open village belonging to the province of Katágum. The[586] whole country well cultivated, with numerous villages.

3rd. About noon arrive at Shéra, a considerable place, the capital of a province of the Fulfúlde empire of Sókoto, and residence of a governor. The place is fortified by nature, its position among the rocks, which surround it on all sides, leaving only a narrow approach from N.W. and S.; otherwise, there is no wall. Most of the houses are built partly of clay, partly of reeds, while the house of the governor consists entirely of clay. Most if not all of the inhabitants seem to belong to the race of the conquerors; the consequence is, that there is neither industry nor commerce, and the market is of no importance.

I here subjoin a list of the more important places of the province of Shéra, or Shíra, from which it will appear that this territory, although heretofore scarcely known by name, is not inconsiderable, though greatly reduced from its ancient extent, when the whole district round Fágam belonged to it. This comprises the following places:—Fágam, bírni-n-Máshi, Hósobo-bérajá, Géllamáng, Rábadí, Gerétti, Dándang, Tóba, Matsángo, Yélku, Zúmborúm-daffatúwo. At the present day there still belong to the province of Shéra, besides the capital (likewise called Shéra), Kúrba, Géade, Dóggo, Dógwa, Kádgo, Kárgo, Rími Táshirá, Ándobám, Dógo-gawán, Dógo-kawé, Dógo-dekáwen, Dógo-dúchi, Dógo-bángaré, Dógo-damwé, Dezína, Túngom, Gowála, Zábi, Sabáwa, Byllum, Béchimé (on a rock), Danguzózo, Yellwá garí-n-da-n-Háwa, Gumár, Zákkuwa, Jerégo, Chínnadé, Hardáwa (I cannot say whether identical with the place of the same name mentioned above), Goráng (east from the latter), Ázeré (with iron mines), Chínnadé madáshi, Daláren, Kúrke, Túmperé, Dúnkowy, Póngi, Zagédebá, Mógonshí, Gadáber, Cherácherá, Gadáwu, Degá, Goré, Itésh, Jóga, Wóliyá, Gósamé (“garí-n-dáffa kárfi,” place for smelting[587] iron), Tsáuni, Kolá (“úri-n-saráuta,” “the seat of [the old] government,” where all the rulers of the country are buried), Sófo-n-garí, Gámbaná, Lájewá, Zíbbek, Máshemá, Bangaráti, Sírko, Gámbakí, Káwada, Máchi-n-káya, Dingáya, garí-n-Mallinzáki, Hírfi, Úngobá or Ngobá, Gádaráima, Kóndokó, Rasáwu, Kórko, Bárring, Mánakó, Wódufá, Tsogú, Kúrnokay, Láfiya garí-n-Berdagúngome (da-n-ghaladíma Shéra), Lanzedóguwa, Ajángara, Zámmaga, Fógo, Sáwi shéli-n-jíka-n-Mallinzáki (the residence of the grandson of Mallinzáki), Yáyu, Dagáro, Kúkokí, Bilkáchuwa, Farí-n-rúwa, Kósomé, Árzamú, Yákasé, Áffotu, Uzum Zándan, Jegás, Chókkoti, Chafágo, Degágitó, Galinámarí, Kádiya, Jándogo, Zagáña, Gorán, Nasaráwa, Kílla.

I now subjoin the short itinerary from Shéra to Yákoba, west a little south.

1st day. Between one and two o’clock P.M. arrive at Fágam, a place larger than Shéra, surrounded with a clay wall, being the frontier-town of the province of Kanó towards the S.E. The country is flat.

2nd. About eleven o’clock A.M. arrive at Gánjuwa, a large open place belonging to the province of Báuchi. All the houses, or rather huts, are built of reed, only that of the governor consisting of clay. The country mountainous, with many springs and pools of water; large numbers of palm-trees.

3rd. About ʿaser arrive at Yákoba; the country mountainous.

IV.—Collection of Itineraries passing through the various Districts of Ádamáwa.

• 1. Hamárruwa to Yóla.
• 2. Morá to Yóla.
• 3. Saráwu, by Gidér, to Fátawel and Bínder.
• 4. Méso to Íssege, by Hína.
• 5. Géwe to Kárnak Lógone.
• 6. Routes to and in the Province of Búbanjídda and Mbána.
• 1. Routes to Báya.

In endeavouring to describe the country by means of this net of routes, traversing it in every direction and thus controlling each other, it will be the best course first to connect Yóla, the furthest point which I have been able to lay[588] down from my own observation, with Hamárruwa, the furthest point reached by Her Majesty’s steamer “Pleiad”[163] in September, 1854.

1. Routes from Hamárruwa to Yóla.

(a.) Direct route; very unsafe.

1st day. Having crossed the Bénuwé, encamp on the border of the máyo Badóre.

2nd. A pagan village of the Zená; about four o’clock P.M.

3rd. A village of Hámidu (not the son of Ádama); a long day’s journey; the whole country is mountainous.

4th. Líma, a settlement of the Fúlbe; about noon.

5th. Yóla; in the morning.

(b.) Another direct route, a little more northerly.

1st day. The máyo Badóre.

2nd. Dútsi-n-máifulá (the Capped Mountain), obviously a travelling name given by the Háusa people to a mountain with a peculiar cone; compare the expression “shúsh el ʿabíd” (the Slave’s Cap). Before noon.

3rd. Bang, a settlement of pagans, on a mountain; turn round its southern side. A long day’s journey.

4th. Passam; in the forenoon.

[589]5th. About two o’clock P.M. encamp; leave Líma at some distance south.

6th. Yóla; in the morning.

(c.) Route from Hamárruwa to Yóla, by way of Kóncha.

This route makes a sharp angle. Direction, as far as Kóncha, S.S.E., then N.E.

 1st day. Reach the river Bénuwé about noon, and cross it in the boats of the Kwána or Kwóna; sleep in Kwánárí, a village on the south bank of the river.

 2nd. Reach a pagan village under the protection of the Fúlbe, and therefore called by travellers Amána Bárka, in a valley bordered by mountains; it belongs to the dominion of Ámba Sámbo, the governor of Chámba.

 3rd. About sunset encamp in the wilderness.

 4th. Zangó-n-gharáma (a name given to the locality by the Háusa traders, meaning “the toll-station”), a village, the master of which, called by the traders mai Chebchóma[164]; levies a considerable tax on the caravans. “Masr,” or the Egyptian durra, forms the principal food of the natives.

 5th. Reach the residence of the chief Nyagáng. Formerly travellers used to make a stage in the village of Ardo Kési, situated more to the north; but this custom has lately ceased.

 6th. Mount Chébchi, stretching out to a great length, and crossing the path; encamp either on its summit or at its base, in the afternoon.

 7th. Rúmde ʿOmáru, a slave-village in the plain; about noon.

 8th. Kóncha (probably so called because it belonged originally[590] to the Kwóna or Kwána), the residence of the governor Mohammed Jóbdi (not Gábdu), a Púllo, who is in a certain degree dependent on the sultan of Ádamáwa. The place is large, being divided into three distinct quarters—that of the Fúlbe, that of the Kanúri, and a third inhabited by pagans; but the dwellings consist entirely of round conical huts, with the exception of that of the governor himself, which is built of clay. The eastern side of the town is skirted by the máyo Béli, which in the dry season is fordable, but during the rains can be crossed only in a boat. It is tributary to the Fáro, and runs from Kóncha to Láro, from this to the town of Yáji about twelve miles west from Chámba, and having been joined by the máyo Íli, which is said to come from Ímber five days south from Kóncha, in the territory of the Tekʿa[165], joins the river Fáro at Rúmde Bárka, a slave-village of Ardo Yáji. This river is confounded by several informants with the Déve, which joins the Fáro at Búbadáddi. The governor Mohammed Jóbdi is said to possess no less than 10,000 slaves. East of the river, between it and the town, a conspicuous mount meets the view. Kóncha is a remarkable place, on account of the wild sugar-cane (not the sweet sort of Indian corn called sébbade in Kanúri), which is said to grow here in great abundance.

 9th. Láro, or more properly “Tírgade Lároma,” a large settlement of the conquerors, governed by an officer of the seignior of Chámba, and situated on the west side of the máyo Béli. When you leave Kóncha you cross the river, and then keep along its south-eastern[591] bank; but before entering Láro you cross it again.

10th. Dírdiyú, a village inhabited conjointly by pagan natives and by Mohammedan Fúlbe; the country level. About noon.

11th. Zángi, a place formerly belonging to the pagans Faráng, but at present inhabited and ruled by the Fúlbe. Numerous elephants and mouflons; at least so says my informant, who nevertheless may have mistaken buffaloes or other animals for those peculiar to the desert.

12th. Reach Yóla, having traversed a well-inhabited country, and crossed a small tributary of the Fáro.

2. Route from Morá, the Capital of Mándará, to Yóla.

Morá was found by Mr. Vogel, by observation, to be in lat. 10° 58′ 38″ N.[166], and in long. 12° 22′ E. Gr.

 1st day. Mógashe, a village of Mándará, of middling size, lying on the eastern side of a range of mountains. Route, S.E.; arrive about noon.

 2nd. Fétte[167], a large Púllo settlement, and residence of a powerful chief called Khúrsu.

 3rd. Malám, a large Púllo place, governed by a cousin of Khúrsu’s, from whence a shallow watercourse runs eastward to join the ngáljam of Démmo (see Vol. III.). The country is level; arrive before noon. From[592] Fétte you turn S.W. Malám is a short day’s journey N.W. from Bógo, another large Púllo settlement.

 4th. Kóngala, a Púllo settlement, situated on the upper part of the same watercourse.

 5th. Márruwa (pronounced by many people as if it were Marba), a large place, the residence of Mʿallem Dámraka, situated on the north side of a watercourse which joins the river of Lógone. On the north side a mountain strikes the eye. Arrive before the heat of the day.

 6th. Mískin, a large place, residence of Ardo Búba, situated on the same watercourse. An isolated mountain (Mount Míndif?) rises towards the east, the country in general being level.

 7th. Gázaba, a large place, and residence of Ardo Gazáwa, an old man. It is a market-place of some importance. Direction, west. Arrive before the heat of the day. Both places, Gázaba and Mískin, seem to lie in a line west from Mount Míndif.

 8th. Mbóla, a Púllo settlement, and residence of a son of Ardo Jídda, situated on the same watercourse. The country level; direction, west. Arrive about noon.

I here subjoin a short itinerary from Múbi (see p. 420.) to Mbóla, in order to connect this route with the track of my own journey to Ádamáwa. This road is mountainous and dangerous.

1st day. Úmshi, a pagan village. Arrive about two o’clock P.M., having passed Bá, in the mountain-group which I noticed on my journey to Ádamáwa, and left Jímmi to the south. After having cleared the mountains of Fíngting, you turn E.N.E.

2nd. Sínna, a village inhabited by Fúlbe and native pagans; about noon.

3rd. Mbóla, a Púllo settlement; about noon.

[593] 9th. Lúlu, a pagan village, the inhabitants of which do not disfigure their features by tattooing, and wear no barbarous sort of ornament, except a small reed in the left ear, like the Marghí. Country mountainous; no watercourses. Direction, south. Arrive between ten and eleven o’clock.

10th. Mátabá, a place situated in a mountainous district, inhabited by pagans and Fúlbe conjointly. The deléb-palm or dúgbi, a species of Hyphæna, grows here in great quantity, but only few dúm-palms. The inhabitants drink only from wells. Direction, south a little west. Arrival, about four o’clock P.M. Mátabá lies on the road between Dába and Lam, a little nearer the former.

11th. Gidér, a place situated on the great pilgrim-road from Yóla eastward, and inhabited by Fúlbe and pagans conjointly. The whole country is mountainous, and only partly subjected. A watercourse runs along the east side of the village towards the máyo Kébbi. Arrive about noon.

12th. Héri, a village inhabited by pagans of the tribe of the Falí. At some distance east, a watercourse. The country mountainous. Direction, south. Arrive in the morning.

13th. Báila, a Púllo settlement, residence of Ardo Badéshi, with a small watercourse. Country mountainous. Short march south, very little west. A few miles west from Báila is Badéshi, situated in a mountainous region, and on the east side of the máyo Saréndi, which is said to come from the south. In the distance, south, a place called Kacháwu is seen lying on a high mountain with a watercourse at its northern foot, which joins, or rather is identical with, the máyo Kébbi; this place possessing very rich pasture-grounds, the cattle of Báila are driven there in time of[594] peace. Between Báila and Soráyi lies Bizér, about fifteen miles from the former. Direction, E.N.E.

14th. Nyáwu, a village inhabited by the slaves of Janfúra. Towards the west, a mountain-range; towards the east, country open. Short march S.W.

15th. Bátema, or Bázuma, the principal and central place of the tribe of the Falí, at least in former times; at present, residence of Janfúra, who has about 200 horse under his command. The place is skirted by the waters of the máyo Dundé, which joins the máyo Kébbi. Towards the east is a mountain. Short march a little south from west.

16th. Géwe, a large settlement of the Fúlbe, situated on the N.E. bank of the Bénuwé, a few miles below its junction with the máyo Kébbi. It is the residence of the chief Sámbo-Géwe, who commands about 100 horse. A large mountain called Banáwa, inhabited by pagans of the tribe of Falí, overtowers the Bénuwé. At a short distance from Géwe, a little east from south, lies Ribágo—not to be confounded with the more important place of the same name to be mentioned further down, this Ribágo being the estate of Mʿallem Músa, the governor of Chébowa. In the angle formed by the junction of the two rivers lies the village Dúli, and east from it another village called Lángi, the three places lying so near each other, that one may be seen from the other. A short day’s march west.

17th. Géweke, a small Púllo settlement, under the same chief as Géwe. On starting from Géwe, cross the river Bénuwé, and traverse a mountainous country. Short journey, west.

18th. Bilónde, a place principally, but not exclusively, inhabited by Fúlbe, and situated on the southern bank of the river Bénuwé. Short march, west.

19th. Gáruwa, a place inhabited by pagans of the Bátta[595] tribe. Arrive at noon, having passed in the morning the village Badóde, situated likewise on the south side of the Bénuwé. North, or perhaps a little west from north, of Gáruwa lies Bángeli, at the foot of a mountain which is skirted by the river, from which Gáruwa itself lies about five miles distant. There is another road from Géwe to Gáruwa, which, though making a circuit, is sometimes taken. Keeping first south, and leaving, after about four hours’ march, Dúli on your left on the bank of the river, then turning S.W., you reach Dúkka in the evening, situated on the west bank of a small rivulet and at the east foot of a large mountain; from hence, a day along the mountain N.W. brings you to Gáruwa.

20th. Kókomi, a considerable place, inhabited by pagans of the Bátta. At a short distance west rises a large mount, the western foot of which is skirted by a watercourse running north towards the Bénuwé. A short march, west. Kókomi, before the conquest of the Fúlbe, was the chief and central place of the Bátta, as Bázuma was that of the Falí. A Bórnu prince is said to have once found refuge here, and to have governed Gáruwa also. About ten miles south from Kókomi lies Chébowa, a considerable Púllo settlement, inhabited chiefly by ʿulama of the tribe of Ulérba, and the residence of Mʿallem Músa. Some people, in going from Gáruwa to Búndang, take this road by Chébowa, which seems not to be longer. One day’s march W.S.W. from Chébowa, about twenty miles, is Mount Kárin, which is rich in iron, and supplies the independent pagan inhabitants of Mount Alantíka with this necessary article.

21st. Búndam, or rather Búndang[168], a considerable place,[596] the inhabitants of which are Fúlbe and Kanúri, not far from the eastern bank of the Fáro, on a shallow branch, backwater, or “chókel” of the river, while the Bénuwé is a good day’s journey northward. The country is flat, with sandy soil, and with small eminences of rock projecting here and there. Arrive at noon; direction west. In going from Búndang to Lamórde, a good day’s journey S.S.W., keeping along the “chókel” on which the place lies, you pass first by Úro Búggel, the former residence of Sámbo Jíkera, then by Turáwa (“the white people”), the residence of Mohammed Jóbdi, then by Báyaga, and then by Yáske, a Bátta village, where the road from Gúrin to Lamórde joins our road, and where the Fáro, from a sweep westward, once more approaches the track.

22nd. Gúrin, formerly the capital of Ádamáwa, but which was not regularly walled. It lies on the western bank of the Fáro, which here, from a more southerly direction, turns eastward, running towards Búndang, from whence again it makes a sweep towards the north: in the dry season Gúrin does not lie directly on the river, but on a backwater called “Gúddi.” People crossing from Búndang to Gúrin therefore, a distance in a straight line of perhaps only five or six miles, as they drift a great deal with the current, report the river to be of an immense breadth, and more important than the Bénuwé. A little lower down from Gúrin, the Fáro is joined by the máyo Béti.

23rd. If you take the northern road from Gúrin to Yóla, you pass by Fárda; if the southern one, you stay a night in Béti (Binti?), a Púllo settlement lying on the eastern side of a rivulet (called after it the máyo Binti?). Arrive in Béti about three o’clock P.M.

24th. By the north road Yebbólewó, on the west bank of Máyo[597] Binti; by the southern road Gáwo-Nyíbbi, a Púllo settlement, with a considerable market every Wednesday. The village has received its name from the circumstance that the Fúlbe, on their coming to this place, found in it a large troop of elephants, “nyíbbi.” A short day’s journey; and, if you choose, you can easily go on to Yóla the same day.

25th. Yóla; early in the morning.

3. Route from Saráwu, by Gidér, to Fátawel and Bínder.

1st day. Bútu, a Púllo settlement in a mountainous district, and a small watercourse towards N.W. at the foot of a mountain; the inhabitants, however, provide themselves only from wells. A short march, east.

2nd. Doérnom or rather Doérnomi, a Púllo settlement in an open, well-cultivated district; a short march, east.

3rd. Búllemi, a place inhabited by pagans in its inner circle, and by Fúlbe all around, skirted by a watercourse on the east side, and bordered by a mountain at some distance towards the north. Pass another watercourse on the road, which runs towards Hína. About eight or ten miles N.W. from Búllemi, and about sixteen or eighteen miles E. or E.N.E. from Saráwu, is Ngómna, a large pagan village of the Falí.

4th. Méso, a considerable Púllo settlement, which is said to possess as many as 200 horses; it is situated in an entirely open country, and is near a watercourse, which is said to run N. (?) and to join that of Doérnum. On the road the village of Hámma Gári is passed, which was formerly the residence of Ísubu (Yusuf) Derbé, the father of Ardo Badéshi. If a man walk well, he can reach Méso in one day from Saráwu.

5th. Péske, a Púllo settlement and residence of ʿAbdú, a[598] brother of the governor of Méso and Badéshi, in an open valley plain, and with a small watercourse on the west side.

6th. Gidér, the place above mentioned, inhabited by pagans and Fúlbe, and skirted by a watercourse, which is said to be joined by three others near a place called Kólla, and to run towards Máyo Kébbi. Gidér is properly a district comprising four villages situated on the tops of mountains. There are two roads from Péske to Gidér, one more direct, leading straight through the mountainous wilderness in an easterly direction, while another, passing by a place called Yáji, forms an angle. Gidér is about eight miles north from Báinga or Báila; you may easily reach Gidér in one day from Méso.

7th. Soráyi, a place inhabited chiefly by pagans, and having but a few Fúlbe, with a small watercourse on its south side; arrive about noon, direction east.

8th. Bínder, a large town, inhabited by Fúlbe, arrive in the morning.

From Bínder to Káfta-Báudi, the place mentioned above, is one day and a half N.N.E., spending the night in Gajám, where you arrive late in the afternoon, having passed on your road the village of Torók, then Goy, Kosére, and, further on, Búsu; arrive the next day, before the heat, in Káfta-Báudi.

From Gidér to Fátawel.

1st day. Encamp in the wilderness between two and three o’clock, P.M.; country mountainous.

2nd. Gázabá, the place mentioned above; arrive early in the morning. The road, as far as this place E.N.E., now turns a little south from east.

3rd. Mískin, a Púllo settlement in the plain; arrive in the morning.

[599]4th. Míndif, a considerable Púllo place at the east and N.E. foot of Mount Míndif, or Méndefi. There is another road from Gázabá to Míndif, turning round the south side of the mountain, and passing first by Kadé, the residence of Ardo Béle, then by Salág.

5th. Máudi, a large place, residence of the Lawán Sʿaíd, who is said to have a good many horsemen under his command; the country intersected by several small watercourses. Direction a little north of east.

6th. Fátawel, an important place, residence of the chief Mʿallem Hámma Yegúdu, and the principal ivory-market in this part of Africa. Indeed it is so celebrated that people in Bórnu generally suppose its name to be that of a large region. About ten miles east of Fátawel is Darám or rather Darám-sulú, a large place inhabited by many Kanúri, as well as by Fúlbe, and the residence of the chief Ardo Kalíbi, and south from it another place called Gájia. I here subjoin the road from Bága, on my Músgu route, to Fátawel.

1st day. Kadé, not the village before mentioned, nor the place where the Músgu chief Ádishén at present resides, but originally a part of the same district, which at present forms a Púllo settlement and residence of the chief Ardo Júlde (“chief of the Moslemín”).

2nd. Káya, a Púllo settlement, residence of Ardo Ísa (or ʿAísa, that is, Jesus), a short march. East from Káya, at no great distance, are the Púllo settlements Bágané and Gúmbulé, and south of the former the sister towns Káfta-Báudi, Káfta lying on the north, and Báudi on the south side of a shallow watercourse, “fáddama,” or ngáljam, and being ruled by one chief, Ardo Béllo.

3rd. Fátawel, early in the morning.

[600]4. Road from Méso to Íssege, by way of Hína. Direction north.

1st day. Dabá, a pagan village, with but a small number of Fúlbe, in a very mountainous district; about noon.

2nd. Hína, a pagan village of the Mózogoy, a tribe nearly related to the Marghí, and probably, therefore, another branch of the Bátta. Their chief has a house at the foot, and another on the top, of the rocky mount round which the place is situated.

3rd. Udábunú, a village situated at the foot of a rocky mount, and inhabited by pagans. Arrive about two o’clock P.M.

4th. Madágalí, a pagan village; a long march ascending and descending in a mountainous country with many small watercourses.

5th. Íssege, the Marghí place on my own route; a long day’s march. Before reaching the place, cross a river running northwards.

From Múbi to Hína, E.S.E., is one day.

Keep along the rivulet of Múbi as far as Bá, where you leave it; reach Jímmi at noon, and Hína between three and four o’clock P.M., marching at an expeditious rate.

5. Route from Géwe to Kárnak Lógone.

Not a direct road, but, such as it is, often taken by pilgrims. Corrected from the statements of several informants.

 1st day. Bázuma, the Púllo settlement mentioned above, residence of Yamhúra, in a plain without watercourses, but having generally stagnant pools; a short march, east.

[601] 2nd. Badéshi, the Púllo settlement mentioned above, situated at the northern foot of a mountain; a long march; arrive between three and four o’clock P.M.; direction N.E.

 3rd. Báinga or Báila, a Púllo settlement in a mountainous district, residence of ʿOmáro Mbílla; a very short march, of about six miles.

 4th. Bínder, the Púllo place mentioned above, in a plain; in the dry season stagnant pools, in the rainy season running water. A very long march, from early in the morning till sunset; direction N.E. Road unsafe, the country not being entirely subjected by the conquering Fúlbe. A little after noon pass close by Bizér, one of the strongholds of the Mbána.

 5th. Lára, a Púllo settlement, with a mountain towards the west; arrive in the forenoon; direction north.

 6th. Míndif, the Púllo settlement mentioned above, at the foot of the high mountain of the same name. Among the Fúlbe live a few pagans of the tribe of the Zummáya. A short march a little north from west. There is another more western and more frequented road between Bínder and Míndif, leading by Bobóyo, which is about half-way; between Bobóyo and Lára are the places Ghadás and Kílgim, and between Bobóyo and Gidér the villages of Múmmur, Tóde, and Lam, at about equal distances in succession, Múmmur lying a few miles south from Bobóyo, and Lam about ten miles north or N.N.W. from Gidér. This whole district seems to be very mountainous; and it is therefore difficult to lay down the roads with any certainty.

 7th. Máudi, a Púllo settlement in a mountainous district without rivulets; a short march N.E. There is another place of the same name at no great distance, but inhabited by pagans of the tribe of the Zummáya.

 8th. Yúlguf, a Púllo village near a small mountain; the[602] country in general level; short journey; direction, N.-E.S.E., at a short distance from Yúlguf, is a small place called Yólde, or Yúlde.

 9th. Bálazá, a Púllo settlement in a level country; a short march east.

10th. Bógo, the considerable Púllo place, mentioned above, residence of Lawán Gári; arrive about noon; direction east.

11th. Bálda, a pagan village on the top of a small mount. Short march, east.

12th. Malám, the border settlement of the Fúlbe, towards the Músgu country, and formerly the residence of Khúrsu, who now resides in Bógo. At a short distance south from Malám is another smaller place of the same name, with the surname Jébjeb. The informant from whom I first wrote this itinerary, Abú Bakr ben Nʿam, before continuing his direct road eastward, entirely retraced his steps westward from this place, after he had already changed his direction in Bógo, which is S.E. from Malám, visiting Márruwa, which is about thirty miles west from Malám, and thence returning S.E. towards Fátawel, which is about the same distance, or a little more, from Márruwa. Malám is about thirty miles S.S.W. from Wolóje, on my Músgu route.

15th. Wáza, a small village, consisting of two hamlets, and belonging to Lógone; a few Fúlbe families are settled here. The country level, with the exception of a few detached rocky hills. This is the place where we encamped on our return from the Músgu expedition. Abú Bakr passed two nights in the wilderness between Malám and Wáza, which is full of elephants and wild oxen (“mbánna”); but an expeditious traveller will make this journey in one day, from early morning till about five o’clock in the afternoon. Direction, N.E.

[603]16th. Jínna, a considerable walled town of the territory of Lógone, in a plain richly clothed with trees, an important market for ivory, and distinguished by its fine matting and lattice-work. A man who wishes to travel direct in going from Malám to Jínna does not touch at Wáza, but leaves it at some distance north.

18th. Logón Bírni, or Kárnak Lógone, the capital of the small kingdom of the latter name. On this march a bare wilderness, called by Abú Bakr, “Fíli Obája,” stretches out towards the south. On the road are three villages.

6. Routes to and in the Province of Búbanjídda and Mbána.

i. From Gúrin to Ray-Búba, the capital of the province of Búbanjídda. Rate expeditious. Direction east.

1st day. Chébowa, the Púllo settlement mentioned above.

2nd. Kauyen, called by other informants Wóyene, a small Púllo settlement.

3rd. Bóngi, another Púllo place, situated on the Bénuwé.

4th. Bidéng, another large place, inhabited by Fúlbe and Dáma, residence of a son of Búba, and occasionally also of many wealthy inhabitants of the walled town Ray Búba, situated on the máyo Dóro, which, near the place Bóngi just mentioned, joins the Bénuwé, the place Dóro, from which it takes its name, lying between Bidéng and Bóngi. Another more southerly and more direct road leads in one day from Wóyene to Bidéng, passing in the morning by Agúrma, a large Púllo settlement upon which Wóyene is dependent, and crossing at noon the Bénuwé.

5th. Ray Búba, the capital of the country of the Dáma, a family of the Falí, called at present Búbanjídda,[604] from the Púllo conqueror Búba, a man of the tribe of the Hillegáwa, and his mother Jídda. The town, being strongly fortified and surrounded by a wall, with four gates, lies on the máyo Chubí, which joins the Bénuwé.

ii. Three different roads from Ray-Búba to Ribágo. Direction north.

(a.) The westernmost.

1st day. Bidéng or Bidáng, the place just before mentioned.

2nd. Bóngi, residence of the Púllo chief ʿOmár Gári; cross the Bénuwé.

3rd. Sáini, a Púllo settlement, residence of a chief called by my Kanúri informant, Mʿallem Fébe, probably from his rich possessions of cattle, “fé.” Before entering the place, cross the river Bénuwé, which skirts its southern side. On the north side of the place is a high mountain. In this place the road from Ray to Ribágo is joined by the general road from Géwe to Ribágo, from Géwe to Dýllemi, about ten miles south along the eastern bank of the Bénuwé, from Dýllemi to Bóngi, passing by Dóka, about eighteen miles, and from here Sáini, at a short distance.

4th. Gámfargó, a Púllo settlement; short march.

5th. Ribágo, or perhaps more correctly, Ribádo (“the prince’s residence”)[169], a large and important Púllo settlement, the residence of the powerful chief Bágeri (Bú Bakr), and situated on a watercourse of some size, called by the Fúlbe “Máyo Gelangéro,” which joins the river Bénuwé at a hamlet called “Rúmde Hámma Salátu,” distant from Ribádo two days’ journey, sleeping the first night in a village of the Dáma,[605] called Úro Kanáwachi[170], which is reached about two o’clock P.M., and arriving in Rúmde the next morning.

(b.) The middle road.

1st day. Lifóro, or Livóro, a cluster of two villages, one inhabited by pagans of the Dáma tribe, and the other by Fúlbe; arrive at noon. Wilderness the whole way.

2nd. Bárgirám[171], a Púllo settlement, and residence of a chief of the name of ʿOmáro; about noon. Dense forest the whole way.

3rd. Ribágo; a long day; arrive between four and five o’clock P.M.

(c.) The eastern road.

1st day. Bágalá, a Púllo settlement. About twelve miles S.E. from this place lies Bére, which will be mentioned further on.

2nd. “Bári hosére” (Bári the rocky hill), called so to distinguish it from another Bári, a Púllo settlement; before noon. Bári hosére is ten or twelve miles east from Bárgirám, and about fifteen miles N.E. from Bére.

3rd. Nákiri, a Púllo settlement; before noon.

4th. Ribágo. Expeditious travellers often make the journey from Ray to Ribágo in two days, passing the night in the farming-village Úro Íbbe.

[606]iii. From Ribágo to Saráwu.

1st day. Lapáre-, or Lafáre-Fulfúlde, in order to distinguish it from the pagan village of the same name, Lafáre Héferbe (plural of “keféro,” “the infidel”); arrive before noon. N.N.W.

2nd. Wógoló, Fúlbe; forenoon.

3rd. Láyade, Fúlbe; arrive about noon, having passed on the road a place called Bay.

4th. Saurogúmji, Fúlbe; arrive about noon, having some time before left on the right the place Méso.

5th. Saráwu; arrive about four o’clock P.M. Soon after starting in the morning, the road is joined by the path coming from Méso; and then you pass the villages Dýllemi and Doernum.

From Ribágo to Báila is one day’s journey from early morning till about three o’clock P.M.; direction north. Pass in the morning a village called ʿOmáruwá, or more correctly Manjáula ʿOmáruwá (“the village of ʿOmár”), and about noon Búsa, both of them situated on the north side of the máyo Kébbi. In time of peace between the Mohammedan intruders and the pagan natives, the cattle of Báila are driven into the rich pasture-grounds of this valley. This valley, as forming almost a natural communication between the Bénuwé and the Shári, and in this way between the Gulf of Benín and the Tsád, is of the highest importance, and will receive more illustration further on.

iv. From Géwe to Lére. Rate very expeditious.

1st day. Óblo, a Púllo settlement in a mountainous country. A long day’s journey, direction N.E. Óblo is about ten miles north, or a little west from north, from Ribágo, passing by Lafáre.

[607]2nd. Bifára, an independent pagan place, in a large green valley or fáddama, “chókel,” with a perennial rivulet, the máyo Kébbi, an eastern branch of the Bénuwé. The place itself lies on the north side of the valley, while on its south side there is a mountain.

3rd. Lére, a large pagan place of the Mbána, and residence of the powerful chief Gónshomé, who is greatly feared, as well by the Fúlbe as by the Kanúri. In the beginning of 1851, shortly before my journey to Yóla, in consequence of an expedition on a large scale being undertaken against him, he had been obliged to acknowledge, in a certain degree, the supremacy of the Fúlbe; but soon after, he again shook off all sort of allegiance. The situation of the place seems very strong, by reason of its position in the swampy wooded valley, which, according to all information, must have an immense extent. The larger valley, which comes from the east, is here joined by a small watercourse, which is said to descend from Bínder, and is identical, I think, with the máyo Saréndi. The Mbána form a numerous tribe, extending as far as Gidér, in which direction Bizér, Jabéri, and Lam are three of their chief frontier-places.

In going from Géwe to Lére, a person can also make stages in the following places: first night in Lafáre, the village mentioned before, situated on the N.W. side of the máyo Kébbi, where he arrives between two and three o’clock P.M.; second night Búsa, a Púllo village on the north side of the máyo Kébbi, where he arrives about noon, having left in the morning the village of Óblo towards the north; on the third, between two and three o’clock P.M., he arrives at Lére.

v. Ray to Lére.

1st day. Livóro, the pagan settlement of this name, in subjection to Búbanjídda; the country level. Arrive about noon.

[608]2nd. Bére, a large Púllo place, with Mʿallem Ádama Agúrmama, who is said to be able to bring about a thousand horse into the field. Agúrma, his native place, from which he has received his surname, lies one day and a half from this place beyond the Bénuwé. A person going thither from Bére, passes the night in Gúmbolí, lying on the east bank of the river, and in the morning reaches Agúrma. About twelve miles north from this Bére lies another smaller Púllo place of the same name, surnamed Gárgabe, from a relation of Ádama’s; and east of Bére Gárgabe lies Bére Malómaró; and further eastward Jóro Súki, while to the north of this latter is situated the place of Mʿallem Hámma Duwé.

3rd. Duwé, the Púllo settlement just mentioned; a long march through a plain country, there being only an isolated mountain on the east side of the road.

4th. Lére. The watercourse of the máyo Kébbi, or Íbbi as it is also called, has so little inclination that the informant from whom I wrote this itinerary thought it joined the Shári.

vi. The valley of the máyo Kébbi, from Óblo to Démmo, my furthest point on the Músgu expedition, which will be described in the following volume.

Going from Óblo to Lére, along the wide and luxuriant fáddama of the máyo Kébbi (direction east), you first pass Búsa (see above), then turning southward along the sweep of the valley leave Manjáula, the village of ʿOmár, also on the north side of the valley, about eight miles S.E. from Óblo; then you leave Kacháwu, situated at the foot of a mountain which is visible even from Báila, on the south side of the valley; then Bifára, a considerable place, on the north side of the valley, and distant from Bínder three short days, arriving on the first day, before the heat, in Zábeli, the[609] second about the same time in Míndang, a place of the Mbána which has been ransacked by Mohammed Lowel, and on the third day reaching Bínder about noon. Having passed the night in Bifára, the following day you leave Gégo on the south side of the valley, and further on Góngudúk, the birth-place of the father of the famous pagan chief Gónshomé, on a small island in a lake or large pond formed by a stemming of the shallow waters of the river; about noon you reach Lére. S.W. from Lére, and S.E. from Góngudúk, is another place called Filléngtenáne. Going from Lére to Démmo, you pass the first night in Máyo Lédde, a Púllo settlement governed by Ardo Chídda, and situated on a watercourse of the same name, which a little further north joins the máyo Kébbi; arrive here between two and three o’clock P.M. On the second day arrive before noon in Dóre, a Púllo settlement, still proceeding along the fáddama of the máyo Kébbi; and about ten miles further on you come to the Túburi or Túfuri, from whence Démmo is half a day N.E. But between Démmo and Túburi the fáddama is apparently interrupted, this rising ground of very little elevation forming the water-parting between the Niger and the Tsád.[172]

vii. From Chébowa to Láme.

1st day. Ngóng, a district consisting of two large villages inhabited by Fúlbe and pagans, and the residence of a chief called Njébbo. The country level; arrive[610] between two and three o’clock P.M., having crossed the máyo Dúkka, which further on joins the Bénuwé.

2nd. Báme, a place inhabited conjointly by Fúlbe and Kanúri, the former, however, predominating. The population of Dýllemi, which is at some distance to the north, on a creek or inlet (ngáljam) of the river, also unites these two different elements. A short march, direction east.

3rd. Dóga, on the west bank of the Bénuwé, which is crossed here; the country flat.

4th. Gámsargú (identical, I think, with Gámforgó, p. 604.), a place inhabited by Kanúri and Fúlbe. Short march.

6th. Nákeri (see above). An expeditious traveller, starting from Báme in the dry season, may reach Nákeri early in the afternoon, crossing the Bénuwé at a place called Lágeri, and leaving Dóka to the south, then passing Gámsargú, and leaving Séni to the north.

7th. Bári hosére, a large place inhabited by Fúlbe, and the residence of the chief Hámed, who is dependent on Bágeri, the governor of Ribágo. The place is skirted on the east side by the máyo Hílle, being joined by another stream, called Máyo Dóro (not the same as that mentioned above), and which is said to join the máyo Kébbi.

8th. Bére Gárgabe, the place mentioned above, which may also be easily reached in one day from Nákeri, leaving Bári hosére a little southward. This place is also skirted by a stream called máyo Súk.

9th. Láme, a large village inhabited by pagans of the tribe of the Mbána and by a few Fúlbe, in a flat country with a river which is stated (although the fact seems improbable), by all informants unanimously, to join the Shári, or rather Serbéwel (the river “Arre” or “Éré” of the Músgu), and which seems to be the same with the máyo Súk near Bére Gárgabe, called so after a place named Súk, which you pass[611] early in the morning. From Láme to Lére is a very long day’s march of about thirty-five miles, direction N.N.W.

viii. From Ray to Láme and Lága.

(a.) Northern Road.

1st day. Lifóro héferbe, the pagan village of that name lying about eight miles east from the Púllo village of the same name (Lifóro Fulfúlde); arrive at noon. North.

2nd. Bére, early in the forenoon. N.N.E.

3rd. Láme; east.

(b.) Southern Road.

1st day. Dámtogó, a Púllo settlement; the country level, broken only by detached hills.

2nd. Dáli, a pagan village.

3rd. Láme.

4th. Duwé, a pagan village; the country well cultivated. Short march, east.

5th. Máfalá, a pagan village. None of these pagans are tattooed. About noon; direction E.S.E.

6th. Lága, or Láka, a large place inhabited exclusively by pagans (of the tribe of Mbána) who tattoo the left cheek and cheekbone; or rather, according to more accurate information, the men make a scar on the forehead and above the nose, while the women tattoo the right arm and shoulder.

ix. From Démmo, my furthest point in the Músgu country (see Vol. III.), to Lága, at a most expeditious rate.

1st day. Dáwa, a district with two rocky mountains inhabited by the Túfuri or Túburi, a tribe of the Falí,[612] and with a large shallow stream, which forms the beginning of the máyo Kébbi, and which, according to this informant (Mʿallem Jýmma, a very intelligent Shúwa chief, of whom I shall speak in the following volume), receives the waters of the ngáljam of Démmo.

2nd. Kéra, a village inhabited by pagans, who perforate their lips; a long day’s journey.

3rd. Láka, a large pagan place, in some degree dependent on the lord of Búbanjídda, who extends his ghazzias, or rather “kónno,” as far as this place. The country is level, with the exception of a small rocky eminence. A rivulet which skirts Láka has, according to Mʿallem Jýmma, its inclination towards the river Serbéuwel, a statement which wants confirmation. The inhabitants, according to this informant, tattoo the breast.

Having traced, along the thread of these itineraries, the conquests of the Fúlbe towards the east and north-east over the regions inclosed between the Bénuwé and the Shári—a country which is sometimes pre-eminently called Jemmára, or rather Jemmáʿa, because the revolutionary and reformatory principle of the Fúlbe has here developed itself with eminent success,—I now return in the opposite direction, in order to follow the progress of these enterprising and restless people in their advance towards the Bight of Benín. The first effect of their advance is assuredly most calamitous, their road being marked by the ashes of burnt villages and the blood of thousands of unfortunate creatures; but, on the other hand, they have laid open these regions to inquiries which may be followed up by more efficacious proceedings; and it may be reasonably questioned whether these countries would ever have been opened to extensive commerce if they had remained in the hands of a motley multitude of petty pagan chiefs.

[613]1. Routes to Báya.

i. Route from Ray Búba to Báya, a little west from south.

1st day. Hosére Chólle (the “Bird Rock”), a village lying round an isolated rocky hill where many of the wealthy inhabitants of Ray have second establishments; about noon.

2nd. Bumgórgo (Mbúm Górgo), a village inhabited by the slaves of the conquerors, and named after an influential overseer of that name, in a mountainous district; arrive between four and five o’clock P.M.

3rd. Saláng, a village inhabited by pagans of dark black colour, in a mountainous district. Cross, about noon, the Bénuwé, which is here already a considerable river, although I have been unable to learn any thing more accurate about its upper course, excepting that it is supposed to issue, at some day’s distance towards the south or S.S.E., from a great mountain with a large volume of water. Arrive between four and five o’clock P.M.

4th. Sleep in the wilderness.

5th. Báya, the principal place of the district or country of the same name. It lies in the midst between a forest and the mountains, and is said to be of the same size as Ngáundere (see further on). It is the residence of a chief named Báushi (a nickname?), who is under the supremacy of the governor of Búndang. The dwellings are all huts. The place has no market. The inhabitants go naked, with no covering but a leaf. They tattoo their bodies in undulating lines, and make a small hole in the left nostril; they have asses, sheep, and poultry in abundance, but neither horses nor neat-cattle; they catch elephants, which are very numerous,[614] in pits, and feed on their flesh. Plenty of parrots. Much dukhn or Pennisetum is cultivated, while the banana is the principal fruit. The sexes observe a distinction with regard to food, the women abstaining from fowls—perhaps on the same principle as the women, in some parts of India, are prohibited to eat things which are regarded as delicacies. They have no cotton, but use shells as money. The only weapons of the people are wooden spears, which they do not poison. The Báya are evidently identical with Koelle’s and Dr. Baikie’s Bayong. The former of these two gentlemen has placed these people at far too great a distance into the interior.

ii. From Yóla to Báya by way of Gúrin.

 1st day. Gúrin (see above), the former residence of the Púllo ruler of Ádamáwa.

 2nd. Lamórde, a considerable place, inhabited by pagans[173]; arrive between one and two o’clock P.M. The road lies along the east bank of the river Fáro, which is crossed, on first setting out from Gúrin, by a ford in the dry season, but in a boat during the rains. The country plain; mountains in the distance. You then turn a little west from south. On the west side of the river is Chámba, a large place situated at the foot of Mount Alantíka, and inhabited by Fúlbe, the residence of Ámba Sámbo.

 3rd. A village of the pagan Búte, between one and two o’clock P.M. The country is mountainous on both sides of the road, the Fáro being some distance off towards the west. As is the case throughout Ádamáwa, there is here abundance of honey.

[615] 4th. A Púllo village situated on a river running N.W. into the Fáro, and called máyo Koléjo. Here resides a petty governor called Ardo Mohammed; the whole country is mountainous. The inhabitants maintain that the soil contains gold, but that they do not know how to collect it. Arrive between one and two o’clock P.M.

 5th. A pagan village, situated in the midst of separate groups of mountains, and governed by a chief called Njaréndi. The whole country is under cultivation, the crops consisting in dukhn, durra, ground-nuts, and cotton. Arrive between four and five o’clock P.M.

 6th. A Púllo village, the residence (jóro) of the chief Kábdu, and therefore called “Jóro Kábdu.” The country through which the road lies is mountainous; and its inhabitants are pagans, but of very handsome figure.

 7th. Pass the night among the pagan slaves of the Fúlbe (Rúmde Ngáundere); arrive towards sunset.

 8th. Ngáundere, a place of considerable size for this country, said to be about as large as Gúmmel in Bórnu, and surrounded with a low rampart; the dwellings are built entirely of reeds, with the exception of the house of the governor and the mosque, the former being built of clay, and the latter of clay and reeds. A daily market is held. Arrive a little before noon.

 9th. A slave village (rúmde) of the slaves of the Ardo, in a mountainous country, with watercourses in the valley. Arrive between one and two o’clock P.M.

10th. Another pagan village; many small hamlets scattered about.

11th. A village of the Mbúm, a large tribe of pagans, well-proportioned, who tattoo their bodies, make cuts in the chin, and file the teeth to a point. They live[616] partly in the valley and partly on the top of the mountains.

12th. Báya.

iii. From Chámba to Báya, preceded by an itinerary from Yóla and Kóncha to Chámba.

1st day. Máibatí (Máyo Béti), a Pullo village situated on a small rivulet called máyo Béti, and joining the Fáro.

2nd. Lamórde, the place mentioned in the preceding itinerary, situated on the river Fáro.

N.B. It seems almost as if Gúrin had been accidentally omitted in this itinerary; at least, the place where the river is crossed cannot be far distant from that town. The road keeps awhile along the bank of the river; fine country; mountains only at some distance from the road.

3rd. Chámba, a considerable place, in a fine position, bordered by the river Fáro towards the east, and by the offshoots of Mount Alantíka towards the west, from which however it seems to be separated by a smaller stream. Mount Alantíka, which forms a gigantic mountain mass, is densely inhabited by pagans of the tribe of the Bátta, who are governed by seven different chiefs, and supply themselves with iron from Mount Kárin, lying on the east side of the river, half a day’s journey from Lamórde; mountains are seen all around. Chámba is almost exclusively inhabited by Fúlbe, and is the residence of the powerful governor Ámba Sámbo, a very warlike man, but now rather old. Chámba is three days’ journey from Kóncha, in starting from which place you pass the first night in Láro, the second in the town of Yáji (the mighty ancestor of Ámba Sámbo), and on the third reach Chámba. This road keeps along a river, which you have to cross twice, but[617] with regard to the identity of which with the Déve I am not quite certain.

iv. From Chámba to Báya by a western road.

 1st day. Lamórde, the place mentioned above, having crossed the river Fáro immediately on setting out.

 2nd. Gabdómana, a pagan village, with a rúmde; the name probably has some connection with that of the chief Kábdo or Gábdo.

 3rd. Encamp in the wilderness.

 4th. Bére, a pagan village on the top of a hill, and at a short distance northward a village inhabited by Kánembú and Kanúri. The country is intersected by small rivulets.

 5th. Rúmde Ngáundere, a small slave-village.

 6th. Ngáundere, the principal place in the country of the Mbúm, surrounded by a low wall, and containing a few houses of clay, and the residence or jóro of Hámed, who governs the country as far as Búndang, and is said to be able to bring 500 horse into the field. It is situated at the western foot of a hill, while towards the west there rises another hill. The people unanimously state that the place is situated exactly south from Chámba. The country produces Sorghum vulgare, a peculiar sort of sorghum called mathá, rice, and cotton.

 7th. Katíl, in a mountainous district. During the first part of this day’s march, the direction being S.E., the river, which runs here from east to west, is close on the right of the traveller; it is called Máyo Nélbi, and joined by another smaller one, called Njárang. During the latter part of the rainy season even here it can be crossed only in boats. However, this is not the direct road, but a great circuit; a traveller who follows the direct road from Bére arrives in one[618] day at Katíl, after a march of about nine hours, direction south.

 8th. Yángaré, a pagan village in a mountainous country, near a rivulet which joins the Fáro; a very long day’s journey.

 9th. Yére, a pagan village of another tribe, in a wide plain destitute of trees and intersected with rivulets; arrive about noon.

10th. Principal place of Báya, which the informant of this route, Mʿallem Katúri, represents as a country mountainous towards the east, but entirely level towards the west. This last day’s march from Yére is a very long one; and people generally pass the night on the road, and enter Báya the following morning.

v. From Kóncha to Jóro Fángel, and from thence to Báya.

(a.) Middle road.

1st day. A “rúmde” of the slaves of Mohammed dan Jóbdi the governor of Kóncha, on the banks of the mayo Béli, along the eastern bank of which the traveller continues his march, in a wide valley inclosed on both sides by mountain-chains.

2nd. Rúmde Fángel; that is to say, the rúmde or slave-village of Jóro Fángel, on a hill of considerable elevation. The slaves are of the tribe of the Tekʿa.

3rd. Jóro Fángel, the “lord’s seat” of Fángel, the chief who has established in these quarters the dominion of the Fúlbe; a place of middling size, in a valley inclosed by mountains.

(b.) Westernmost road. [N.B. Rate rather slow.]

1st day. Rúmde Kaighámman, a slave-village belonging to Kóncha, in a level country; arrive a little after[619] noon. The name Kaighámman originally belonged to the Kanúri.

2nd. Encamp on the bank of the máyo Tafári, which, running from west to east, but further on turning northward, receives the máyo Léggel, which is crossed in the morning soon after leaving the rúmde, and the máyo Bénglarí, which is crossed further on; both these watercourses are dry in summer. Arrive about four o’clock P.M.

3rd. Úro Bákari Yémyem, the residence of the Púllo chief of the Bákari, overtowered towards the west by a large mountain; arrive early in the forenoon.

4th. Rúmde Bákari Yémyem, with a mountain-chain rising to a considerable elevation towards the south; arrive early in the forenoon.

5th. Jóro Fángel; the east side of the place is skirted, according to the Púllo Ádama, an intelligent native of Ádamáwa, by the máyo Bána or Mbána, which, at a short distance from Tíngeren, joins the Fáro. Arrive before noon. This well-known place, Jóro Fángel, is not to be confounded with a smaller place of the same name.

An expeditious traveller, keeping along the most direct eastern road, and sleeping in Lámtam, is able to reach Jóro Fángel on the second day.

vi. From Jóro Fángel to Báya.

1st day. Tínger, a Púllo settlement, the residence of Ádama Jíkera, a powerful Púllo chief, who commands the tribe of the Bákari, or Bákari Yémyem, who are said to be cannibals. Ádama Jíkera, who is the brother of Sámbo Jíkera, has about one hundred horse under his command. This place is not to be confounded with a place of a similar name, Téngeren, the residence of another chief of the name of Ádama Jíkera, which I shall mention further on.

[620]2nd. A village inhabited by pagans of the tribe of the Jétem, as they are called by the Fúlbe, who most probably have been transplanted hither: the village is skirted by the river Fáro, which is here small, although during part of the year it becomes navigable for boats; towards the east rises a considerable hill. Arrive between two and three o’clock P.M.

3rd. Rúmde Ngáundere, the slave-village mentioned above, with a large mountain towards the east; arrive between two and three o’clock P.M.

4th. Ngáundere.

The following is a more direct road from Kóncha to Ngáundere:—

1st day. Encamp on the máyo Béli, in a very level country with several small slave-hamlets lying round about; arrive at noon; direction S.S.E.

2nd. Púllo settlement of Ámba Sámbo Jíkera, or Zíkera (Jíkera being the name of his grandfather), with a large mountain on the north side; arrive about noon; S.S.E.

3rd. Fílla-Ngáwu, a village of the Mbúm, in a mountainous district, with very small watercourses. Hence half a day’s march N.E., and a day and a half from Ámba Sámbo Jíkera, is the Téngeren which I mentioned above, consisting of two separate villages—a Púllo settlement towards the west, and, about six miles east, a pagan village of the Mbúm, in a mountainous district. Téngeren is also a day and a half’s march from Rúmde Ngáundere, the traveller who comes from the former place passing the night in a rúmde of Ámba Sámbo, on the north bank of the Fáro.

4th. Ngáundere, between three and four o’clock P.M.

5th. A village of the Mbúm, situated on the bank of the máyo Nélbi, which joins the máyo Gelangéro. This[621] stream is perennial, and during part of the year even navigable; on the south side of the village is a mountain. Arrive in the forenoon.

6th. Mambúm (properly Ma-Mbúm), a considerable place, and residence of Arnádo, a chief of the tribe of the Mbúm, skirted on its east side by the máyo Nélbi, in a level country; arrive about noon. Mambúm is distant from Katíl one day’s march, S.W.

7th. Rískobáya, a village of the pagan Mbúm, thus denominated from a man named Rísko, a slave of Mohammed Jóbdi. The southern side of the village is bordered by a watercourse, dry in summer, called by the Fúlbe “máyo balléwo;” on the east side there is a mountain, and the whole road is mountainous. Arrive between four and five o’clock P.M.

8th. Encamp in the wilderness about two o’clock P.M.

9th. Dóka, or rather the residence of Dóka, the principal chief of the Báya country. I cannot say with certainty whether this place be the same as that where the other itinerary terminates. The country level, and covered with dense forest.

vii. From Chámba to Tibáti.

(a.) Eastern road.

1st day. Búbadáddi, the village mentioned above, situated in the southern angle formed by the junction of the river of Kóncha (called by some Máyo Íbbi, by others M. Déve) with the Fáro; about noon.

2nd. Rúmde Dírrim, a hamlet of the slaves of Ámba Sámbo, who originally belong to the tribe of the Mbúm. The country level; much forest. Arrive about noon.

3rd. Rúmde Fáro, another slave-village of Ámba Sámbo (which, however, has a name in the native language[622] also), situated on the north side of the Fáro, which here makes a sweep from west to east. Arrive between two and three o’clock P.M., having crossed in the morning several small streams, and further on a mountain-chain, which seems to border the valley of the river on the north side.

4th. Rúmde Dúbbel, another slave-village; arrive about noon, having crossed the river Fáro in the morning, and then traversed a dense forest, full of elephants, in a level country.

5th. Tibáti, a large walled town, being the only town of this description in Ádamáwa besides Ray Búba—Ngáundere being merely fortified with a low rampart,—but inhabited for the most part by slaves, and not by Fúlbe. It is the residence of a governor. The town is situated on a small river skirting its north-eastern side, and then running N.W. towards the Fáro, which it is said to join one day’s journey west from Rúmde Fáro. It is generally called Kogí-n-Tibáti. On the north side of the town there seems to be a large swamp, perhaps an inlet of the river. Tibáti boasts, according to all my informants, of the richest vegetation in all Ádamáwa. About ten miles west from the town is a more considerable river, not fordable during some months, which, according to my best informants, is the máyo Béli, coming from a considerable distance S.W.

(b.) Western road, according to Mohammed.

1st day. Bómbaké, a Púllo village; before noon.

2nd. Encamp on the bank of a rivulet (the máyo Kotégo?) running westward, between two and three o’clock P.M.

3rd. Gábdi Mbána, a village of the pagan Mbúm (Mbána?), in a level country; about noon.

[623]4th. Kóro-Mbána, another pagan village; before noon.

5th. The residence of Ádama Jíkera (see above); at the same time.

6th. Varvándu, a place situated on the south side of a river which informant calls the Fáro, and which is crossed on branches of trees. Towards S.E. a mountain is seen.

7th. Another place of Ádama Jíkera, in a level country; about noon.

8th. Tibáti.

(c.) According to Mʿallem Katúri.

 1st day. Gungúti, a considerable Púllo place in a level country, the southern horizon alone being bordered by mountains. Early in the morning the broad river Fáro is crossed, during the latter part of the rainy season and shortly afterwards, in boats, at other times of the year by fording. Arrive between two and three o’clock P.M.

 2nd. Pass the night out in a hilly country full of elephants and buffaloes, while the deléb-palm or gigiña, and the gónda or Papaya predominate in the forest[174]; arrive at two or three o’clock P.M.

 3rd. A village of the pagan Mbána, in a woody country, with mountains towards west and south. Road mostly keeps along the bank of a rivulet, which is said to join the Fáro. Arrive between two and three o’clock P.M.

 4th. Hamlets of the pagan Múmbere (?), who live on the summits of the mountains, the whole country being mountainous, and the road leading over the heights.

[624] 5th. Encamp near a large lake or swamp, which informant calls by the Háusa appellation “rúwa-n-dórina” (“Hippopotamus water”), in a hollow between the mountains; arrive between four and five o’clock P.M.

 6th. The large settlement of Ámba Sámbo Jíkera, surrounded by hills.

 7th. The Púllo settlement of Ádama Jíkera, in a valley-plain surrounded by mountains on all sides, and intersected by a small rivulet.

 8th. A pagan village, Varvándu, in a plain, through which the Fáro runs from south to north.

 9th. Encamp in an uninhabited woody country perfectly level.

10th. Tibáti, about noon.

I shall here add two short itineraries from Tibáti to Ngáundere. Direction, E.N.E.

1st day. A slave-village called Rúmde Tibáti, about noon.

2nd. Village of the Mbúm, in a mountainous district.

3rd. Rúmde Dúbi, before noon.

4th. Ngáundere, between two and three o’clock P.M.

Or a nearer road in three days, passing the first night in Rúmde Mbúm, and the second in a slave-village of ʿAbd-Alláhi, and travelling each day from early in the morning till about noon.

viii. From Tibáti to the Íbo or Ígbo Country.

 1st day. A village of the Búte, called, by my Háusa informant the mʿallem Katúri, “garí-n-Kachélla Búte;” arrive between two and three o’clock P.M.

 2nd. A village of the Tikár (Tikʿa), called by him “garí-n-Kachélla Tikár,” situated in a dense forest; about noon.

[625] 3rd. Another pagan village, called by him “garí-n-Kachélla-n-Yémyem;” about noon.

 4th. A village inhabited by the Monchéran, a tribe of the Búte. Country level and woody.

 5th. A pagan village or “úngwa,” consisting of two hamlets, one of which lies at the foot and the other on the summit of a hill; between two and three o’clock P.M.

 6th. Another pagan village, the residence of a powerful native chief, and therefore called by the Háusa people “garí-n-serkí-n-Yémyem.”

 7th. A village of the great chief of the Fándu, in a level country. All these pagan tribes, whose principal weapon is the bow and arrow, are in the imána of Ámba Sámbo.

 8th. Residence of the principal chief of the Tikár, or rather Tikʿa, a tribe marked by four scars or cuts under the eyes. Each of these pagan tribes has its peculiar language or dialect.

 9th. Another pagan village, called “garí-n-Kachélla-n-Bum,” in a plain woody country, with a considerable river passable only in boats, and called by the Háusa people “rúwa-n-kádo” (the crocodile river).

10th. Encamp on the northern bank of the same river, called here “báki-n-kogí Jétem,” after the Jétem, the pagan inhabitants of the country. It winds along through a mountainous district.

11th. A village of the Mó, a large tribe of pagans, who live on the summits of the mountains situated on the same river. This whole tribe is armed with muskets. A long day’s journey, till about four or five o’clock P.M.

12th. Village of the Abó, in a mountainous district watered by a river. Towards the south a town called Úmbe is situated, being conspicuous by a large mountain.

13th. Dingding, another pagan tribe, who feed chiefly[626] on a particular kind of clay, which they prepare with butter. The people of the slave-expedition themselves lived upon it while in this district, and represent it as not unpleasant. The Dingding are also armed with guns. The name Dingding, however, most probably is not the indigenous name of this tribe.

14th. Yúruwa, another pagan tribe, armed with guns, and living in a mountainous district.

15th. Pó, another tribe, living chiefly on sugar-cane (not, as it seems, the Holcus saccharatus), which they boil, and eat like honey. Country mountainous.

16th. Íbo, dwelling in nine villages on the “black water” (báki-n-rúwa), as many of the Háusa people call the Kwára, although the Ígbo and other tribes in that district give the name “black water” in general to the Bénuwé, while they distinguish the Kwára as the “white water.”

The Íbo, whom, as well as the Dingding, the Fúlbe believe to be Christians, have neither cattle, horses, nor asses, but plenty of large sheep, goats, swine, and poultry. The expedition which my informant accompanied in 1848-9 spent two months in this country, plundering it and carrying away a great many slaves. Since that time the Fúlbe can in some respects truly say that their empire extends as far as the sea; for now every year the Íbo, at least part of them, and their neighbours are said to bring slaves, salt, and cowries as a kind of tribute to the governor of Chámba. The same expedition after having retraced its steps as far as the garí-n-Kachélla Bum, again returned towards the Great River, and fell upon and plundered Mbáfu, said to be three days’ journey north from the Íbo country.[175]

[627]ix. From Jóro Fángel to the Country of the Jétem.

 1st day. Lúmta, a Púllo settlement in a level country, the N.E. side of which is skirted by the máyo Nélbi; arrive about noon. Road crosses several small water-courses; direction a little west from south.

 2nd. Máyo Béli, a place chiefly inhabited by pagans, with the addition of but a few Fúlbe, skirted by a river of the same name, turning from west to north. The country mountainous, but the mountains not rising to a great elevation. Arrive between two and three o’clock P.M.

 3rd. Hosére Lábul, a large mountain, inhabited by Tikʿa, and extending a considerable distance west. This mountain is generally regarded in Ádamáwa as the feeder of the sources of the river Fáro; but according to this informant (the Háj Ádama, an intelligent man who speaks as an eye-witness), only a small rivulet, the máyo Tolóre, skirts its east foot, and joins the máyo Béli. Arrive about noon. Hosére Lábul is one day’s journey S.W. from Tibáti.

 4th. Yáwa, a village of the pagan Tikár (Tikʿa), in a plain woody country with a small river, which skirts the east side of the village (perhaps the upper course of máyo Béli). Arrive between two and three o’clock P.M. From Hosére Lábul you take a more westerly direction.

 5th. Bomfónga, a village of another division of the Tikár (Tikʿa), in a plain with small rivulets. Fárfar, the great capital of the Tikár, is distant from this a long[628] day W.N.W. The country of the Tikár (Tikʿa) in general is well inhabited, the cultivated ground alternating with dense forest, wherein the gonda and the banana prevail; in the more south-westerly districts the góro-tree (Sterculea acuminata) and the hóno-ruwá, or máji-n-góro (St. macrocarpos). That species of grain called masr (Zea maïs), and dóga or yams, constitute the principal produce,—very little millet, no cotton; the country almost all level, with plenty of small rivulets. The inhabitants have, besides huts of clay built overground, also caves underground.

 6th. Encamp in the wilderness, the country inhabited by the Déri. A long day.

 7th. Encamp in the wilderness at a spot where natron is found. The country inhabited by the Bóre, another division of the Tikár (Tikʿa).

 8th. Lengwájí, a great mountain inhabited by Tikár, who are in the imána of Ámba Sámbo, the governor of Chámba; before noon.

 9th. Bómbom, one of the chief places of the Tikár; about noon.

10th. Fándu, another division of the Tikár; before noon. Direction a little south from west.

11th. Mbónga, a large place of the Tikár in a level country, with but a few mountains; before noon.

12th. Jolonjúnga, a straggling hamlet in a level country, with a rivulet running north; between two and three o’clock P.M.

13th. Máyo Kim, a considerable river running from east to west (S.E. to N.W.?), to join the Njéreng, and forming the boundary between the territory of the Jétem and that of the Tikár; about noon.

14th. Lamórde—that is to say, the residence of a chief of the Jétem,—in a level country; between four and five o’clock P.M.

15th. The rocky mountain (hosére) Gelangéro (not the[629] original, but a Fulfúlde name), in an uncultivated country intersected only by small watercourses; between two and three o’clock P.M.

16th. Kosél Danél, a small hill belonging to the territory of the Jétem, west of which live the Dingding. The Jétem, as well as the Tikár, have no guns (but according to some the Jétem have). The Mó dwell to the north of the Jétem.

17th. Reach a river called by the Fúlbe “máyo balléwo” (the black river), which, like the Kim, is said to join the Njéreng, a considerable river, navigable for boats at all seasons of the year, and running southward. Mbáfu is said to be three days west, and Tóto five days N.W. from this place.

x. From Ray-Búba to Mbáfu.

 1st day. Hosére chólle. See above, p. 613.

 2nd. Dánfa, a village inhabited by pagans, who do not tattoo, and whose weapons are spears and arrows.

 4th. Jáfa, a pagan village inhabited by a division of the Dúru, who make long gashes on the left side of the body. This place lies round a rocky hill, the south side of which is free from huts, while the dwelling of the chief is on the north side. You cross the river Bénuwé in the morning of the first day after leaving Dánfa, and, having passed the night in the wilderness, arrive early the next morning.

 6th. Bére, a village (see p. 617.) inhabited by pagans who make incisions in the under lip; the country is mountainous, but the mountains are detached. Direction S.W. Another longer road leads from Jáfa, a little east from south, to Ságje, a large Púllo place situated a day’s journey S.W. from the above-mentioned place, Saláng, and from thence west to Bére.

[630] 7th. A village of the Mbum.

 8th. Gankaini (see p. 626.), a village of the Mbum; the country level, covered with dense forests, the large spreading “lainde” and the “kímba” being the prevailing trees.

 9th. Jerang, in the forenoon.

10th. A village of the Mbum, in the forenoon.

11th. A rivulet, called by the Háusa people “kogí-n-góra,” in the wilderness.

12th. Soló, a village of the Búna, who make three small cuts over the cheekbone, and possess neither horned cattle nor sheep, but only goats and poultry; the country level, and covered with a dense forest.

13th. Bóngoré, a village of the Búte, who live in light huts constructed of branches. The Búte, upon whom the Kótofó, driven from their ancient seats about Chámba, have thrown themselves, wear no clothing except a narrow rope, made of bark, round the loins; they have long arrows and spears, and large shields of a very peculiar shape. They are said to have red copper in their country, and to work it themselves.

14th. Yénda, a place of the Kótofó. The whole country is flat, with much sandy soil, masr and sorghum being cultivated, besides a great deal of vegetables; the country abounds in water, but has no running streams, all the watercourses being of a shallow, wide-spreading character, such as are called “ngáljam” in Kanúri, and “fáddama” in Háusa. The rainy season is said to have here only three months’ duration, the heat, even in the dry season, not being immoderate. The predominant trees are the góro, kímba, mosóro, jittagúllo, and the passakóre. S.E., half a day’s march from Yénda, is another large place of the Kótofó, called Koróngo.

15th. Bónchobé, W.S.W.

[631]16th. Bérberó.

24th. Bambúm. Having passed during eight days, first through the country of the Búte, then through that of the Tikár, or rather Tikʿa, you reach this place, belonging to another tribe.

27th. Mbáfu. Mohámmedu my intelligent informant, says that there are large and wealthy towns in this country, with well-frequented market-places, and that the people have a great deal of property, and mostly European furniture; all the houses are made of clay. He represents the inhabitants of Mbáfu, as well as the Tikár and Dingding, as being of a copper colour. They wear their hair dressed to a great height like all the pagans hereabouts, let the beard grow, and practise circumcision. The tree “tármo,” with a fine fruit, is predominant. Of the identity of Mbáfu with Mr. Koelle’s Mfút, and of its situation, a few days’ journey N.E. from Kálabá, I have already spoken.

xi. From Ngaúndere to the Batí.

 1st day. Mambúm.

 2nd. Soló.

 3rd. Bóngoré.

 4th. Búbadáddi Kachellél (the name not original, but introduced altogether by the conquerors), a village of the Kótofó; the whole country, as all the country south of that of the Mbum in general, is said to be perfectly level.

 5th. Bíttik, another village of the Kótofó; arrive about noon. The direction, which, as far as Búbadáddi, has been almost south, now turns south by west. A day and a half S.W. from Búbadáddi lies Géniyon, and further on in the same direction Búbabóntong.

 6th. Bórmoná, a place of the Búte; a long day’s march.

[632] 7th. Mángchirin, a woody district, governed by a woman, with a great mountain towards the west.

10th. Bébe, a pagan village consisting of huts built of clay.

11th. Mére, another pagan village; country woody.

14th. Batí, a tribe of pagans of peculiarly light colour[176], well made, and not marked by any incisions; they wear an apron round the loins made of cotton, and dwell in huts built of clay; they have only sheep, no horned cattle; they have shells for currency, and live at no great distance from the sea, in the direction of which is seen a very large mountain. They have no firearms, but only spears, and their country abounds in elephants and wild pigs.

I am happy to add that Thomas J. Hutchison, Esq., H.M.’s consul at Fernando Po, with whom I am engaged in active correspondence, is making diligent inquiries with regard to the tribes of whom I obtained information in the interior, through the missionary Mr. Anderson. These inquiries tend always more and more to corroborate my information.

---

[633]CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE
CONTAINING
A LIST OF THE SÉFUWA, OR KINGS OF BÓRNU
DESCENDED FROM SÉF.
WITH THE FEW HISTORICAL FACTS AND EVENTS UNDER THEIR
RESPECTIVE REIGNS, THAT HAVE COME TO OUR
KNOWLEDGE.

---

Name of the King.	Principal Events during the Reign of each King.	Place where he died.	Length of the Reign in Lunar Years.
Séf.	Is said to have come to Kánem, where he founded a new dynasty, and reigned over several tribes; viz. the Berbers (Begháma?), Tebu, or Tedá, Kánembú, and others. Imám Áhmed states expressly that he came to Njímiye.	Sámina.	20.
(Said to be) Son of Dhu Yazan and of a woman of Mekka.		A place in the territory of the Dájó?[177]
Ibrahím, or Bíram.	“Father of the Sultan.”—Imám Áhmed.	?	16.
Son of Séf and ʿAáisha.
Dúku, or Dúgu.	Seems to be generally recognized as the first king of this dynasty; and for this reason, his father Íbrahím is called “father of the Sultan.” There is still in Bórnu a numerous family called Dúguwa, who refer their origin to Dúgu; and it would seem that Dúguwa is the name which really belongs to the dynasty, as is intimated by the chronicle itself further on.	Yéri Árfasá.	[250] ?
Son of Íbrahím and Ghafalúwa, of the tribe of the Kaye.		A place said by the Bórnu people (I have no doubt erroneously) to lie S. from Túburi, in the Músgu country. We shall find a place Yira in Kánem.	Probably second half of the 9th century, A.D.
Funé.	A powerful and successful prince.	Malána.	60.
Son of Dúgu.		A place in Kánem.
[634]Aritsó.		?	50.
Son of Funé and Fukálshi.
Katúri.		Kaluwána.	[250](?).
Son of Aritsó ben Funé.
Adyóma, Ayóma, or Wayáma.	His reign evidently falls in the last years of the 4th and the first of the 5th century of the Hejra; most probably in 390-410, or A.D. 1000-1019.	Tatnúri.	20.
Son of Katúri and Tumáyu, of the tribe of the Bení Ghalgha.		With an uncertain surname, Bereríya. (Berberíya?)
Bulú.		Dheghjabadmi, or Meghjibadmi.	16.
Son of Adyóma and Ghanjáya, of the tribe of the Kaye.
Árki.	Had plenty of slaves, of whom he settled 300 in Dirká (probably Dirki), 300 in Síggedim, both in Kawár; and 300 in Rílana, or Zílana, the place where he died. From this it is evident that he was master of the Tebu country.	Rílana, or Zílana.	44.
Son of Bulú and Azisenna, of the tribe of the Temágheri.
Shú, or Húwa.[178]	Distinguished by his fine figure. If we knew that he “reigned by a viceroy or khalífa,” we should conclude that he was an effeminate man; but that is only M. Blau’s misapprehension.[179]	Ghanta Kamna.	4.
Son of Árki and Tefsú, of the tribe of the Temágheri.
Selma, or ʿAbd el Jelíl.	Was the last king of the dynasty of the Dúguwa, or Bení Dúgu, if we understand this name as coincident with idolatry. For although the chronicle distinguishes plainly between the Bení Dúgu and the Bení Humé, nevertheless it is evident that Humé, the successor of ʿAbd el Jelíl, and the first Mohammedan king of Kánem, was his son. It is therefore clear that Bení Humé means nothing else than the Mohammedan kings, as contradistinguished from the Dúguwa, the pagans.[180]	Ghumzú,	4.
Son of Shú and of a woman of the tribe of the Ghemarma. (Maghárma?)		With the surname Ridha. (?)
[635]Humé, or Umé.	Founded a new dynasty by the profession of Islám. Makrízi’s (Hamaker, p. 206.) statement, that the first Mohammedan king of Kánem was Mohammed Ben Jebel (or rather Jíl) refers most probably to the later dynasty of Kánem, namely, the Bulála, while he counted all the members of this and the older Bórnu dynasty together, and made up the number of forty kings who had preceded him. (See what I have said above on this point, p. 263.) The missionary who introduced Islám into Kánem, according to the same Makrízi, was Hádí el ʿOthmání. From the place where Humé died, it may be inferred that he intended, or even accomplished, a pilgrimage.	Masr (Egypt).	12.
Son of ʿAbd el Jelíl and Tikramma, of the tribe of the Kaye.			A.H. 479-490. A.D. 1086-1097.
Dúnama.	A very powerful king, according to the chronicle the most powerful of the Bení Humé, who had a strong and very numerous army, horse and foot, and made thrice the pilgrimage to Mekka with a numerous retinue. Having excited the suspicions of the inhabitants of Egypt, he is said to have been drowned by them when embarking at Suez for Mekka, and in the very turbulent state in which Egypt was at that time, under the reign of e’ Dháfer be ámr-Illah, this is by no means so improbable as it might otherwise appear to be. The capital Njímiye, notwithstanding the strength of the empire, seems to have been at that time still a very small place.[181]	Egypt, or rather the Gulf of Suez.	55.
Son of Humé and Kintá, of the tribe of the Tebu, or Tedá (not Tíh).			A.H. 491-545. A.D. 1098-1150.
Bíri.	Seems to have been at first entirely under the influence of his mother, who even imprisoned him. If he had not much energy, he must have been at least a very learned man, for Imám Áhmed calls him “el fáki e’ táki,” p. 31.; and it would seem from the report of the chronicle, that part of the ceremonial of the court dates from his time, even if through the influence of his mother.	Ghamtilú? Bela Ghanna. (billa ghaná?)	27.
Son of Dúnama and Fasáme, of the tribe of the Kaye.			A.H. 546-572. A.D. 1151-1176.
[636]ʿAbd Allah, or Dála.		Fafsa.	17.
Son of Bíkoru ben Bíri and of Zíneb, of the tribe of the Tebu, or Tubu (not Túba.)			A.H. 573-589. A.D. 1177-1193.
Selma, or ʿAbd el Jelíl.	As he lived in the most flourishing period of the Bení Háfis, the Tunisian princes, who, by their friendship, are said to have occasioned the ascendancy of the Bórnu kings over the whole desert[182], he must have been one of the most powerful of the latter. He is said to have been the first black king of this dynasty, all the Bórnu kings before him having had a light complexion like the Arabs. But this latter assertion seems to be contradicted by the fact, that a preceding king had borne the name of Selma, or Tselma, which means “the black” (properly tsélima), from tsélim, or tsílim, “black.”	Jejéska Ghazrwána.	28.
Son of Bíkoru and Húwa, of the tribe of the Débirí.			A.H. 590-617. A.D. 1194-1220.
Dúnama, or Áhmed.	A very warlike prince, who waged many wars, which were generally conducted by his sons, who in consequence formed themselves into parties and factions. His strength, like that of his ancestor Dúnama, seems to have consisted chiefly in cavalry, of which he is said in the chronicle to have possessed 41,000; but, according to the more credible testimony of Wanúma Mohammed Ghaná, cited by Imám Áhmed (pp. 77, 78.), he had 30,000; and that ought not to appear so exaggerated, although the king in Leo’s time had only 3000, for that was a very different period, when the empire was almost ruined. Dúnama’s most celebrated deed—of which we are informed—is the war he waged against the Tebu for more than seven years; according to tradition, 7 years, 7 months, and 7 days. And it is most probable that it was this enterprising and restless king who extended the empire of Kánem over the whole of Fezzán,—a state of things which lasted till about the middle of the 14th century.[183][637] He likewise is the king who, in the time of Ébn Sʿaíd, A.H. 650 (A.D. 1252-3), invaded the well-watered populous country of Mabiná[184], which it is difficult to identify, although the name bears some resemblance to Fúmbiná, the indigenous name of Ádamáwa, while the geographer’s account of the situation of that country agrees well with Fúmbiná; but we shall find another name closely related to it. It is also Ebn Sʿaíd who first calls Bórnu—that is, the country on the south-western side of the Tsád as far as Díkowa—part of Kánem. The empire of Kánem at that time extended, according to Imám Áhmed, from the Nile, near Dhúwi, as far as the rivulet Baramuwása, in the west, which most probably is identical with what Clapperton (Second Journey, p. 63.) calls the river Moussa (bahr Músa), the river which divides the territories of Yóruba and Bórgu, and we may add, from Mábiná in the south to Wadán in the north. (See what I have said, p. 263.; also, with regard to the present sent by the king of Bórnu to the ruler of Tunis in A.H. 665.) But Dúnama laid the foundation for the ensuing disasters of the empire, by opening, as the Bórnu people say, the “munni,” or “talisman of Bórnu.” What it was it is difficult to say[185]; but what it meant may be more easily conjectured, chiefly from the words of the imám Áhmed, who expresses himself thus (pp. 123, 124.): “When the thing which was in it (the talisman) escaped, it called forth and provoked every powerful man to ambition and intrigues, in the government and in high charges.” Indeed, from this time, civil wars, murders of kings, and changes in the dynasty, succeeded each other without interruption.	Zamtam.	40.
Son of Selma and Díbalá (therefore his full name Díbalámi Dúnama Selmámi), of the tribe of the Maghárma.		A little W. from Ghambarú.	A.H. 618-657. A.D. 1221-1259.
	[638]“The true faith, in his time,” according to Ebn Sʿaíd, “was largely disseminated in Kánem,”—a remarkable change effected since the time when El Bekri wrote his account. It was under his reign (A.H. 640) that the inhabitants of Kánem built the Médreset Ébn Rashik at Cairo, where their travellers might alight.[186]
Kadé, or ʿAbd el Kadím.	Murdered by a man of the name of ʿAndákama Dúnama. We know nothing further of his reign.	Dhurríya Ghimútú.	29.
Son of Dúnama (?) and Máthala, of the tribe of the Meghárma.			A.H. 658-686. A.D. 1259-1285.
Bíri (Íbrahím).	“A Conqueror,” but unfortunately it is not known in what quarter he made his conquests. It is an important fact, gleaned from the chronicle, that two religious chiefs of the Fúlbe or Felláta of Mélle came to him.[187] Known to Makrízí.	Njímiye.	20.
Son of Dúnama and Zíneb, of the tribe of the Lekmamma.			A.H. 687-706. A.D. 1288-1306.
(Íbrahím) Nikále.	Killed one of his sons, who most probably had revolted against him; was murdered himself and thrown into the river Wáú, the so-called Yeou, by Yeráma Mohammed. From the title “Háj” given to him by Makrízí, we see that he made a pilgrimage to Mekka.	Dískama.	20.
Son of (Bíri) Íbrahím and of Kakúdi, of the tribe of the Kúnkuna.		A place on the Bórnu river, one day’s march from the later capital, or Bírni.	A.H. 707-726. A.D. 1307-1326.
ʿAbd Allah.	A just prince, who, having punished the murderers of the former king, and after having successfully vanquished his rival the Bagharíma (see further down,—and not as Blau, p. 326. n. 18., translates, “Prince of Bagharmi,” a state not existing at that time), seems to have established his power with a strong hand.	Njímiye.	20.
Son of Kadé and Fátima.			A.H. 727-746. A.D. 1326-1345.
Selma.	Fell in a war with the Só, or Soy[188], the original inhabitants of the greater part of the country between the Wáú (Yeou) and the Shárí. This powerful nation, whom the[639] former kings seem to have greatly reduced, but without taking and destroying their strongholds, appears to have risen at that period, in a successful war, against their aggressors, vanquishing and killing four successive Bórnu kings, all sons of the unfortunate ʿAbd Allah, whom an afflicted mother is said to have cursed.	Yúsub.	4.
Son of ʿAbd Allah and of Kamma.			A.H. 747-750. A.D. 1346-1349.
Kuré Ghaná.	Vanquished and killed by the Só.	Ghaliwá (?).	1.
Son of ʿAbd Allah.			A.H. 751. A.D. 1350.
Kuré Kurá.	Vanquished and killed by the Só, at the same place as his brother and predecessor.	Ghaliwá.	1.
Son of ʿAbd Allah.			A.H. 752. A.D. 1351.
Mohammed.	Vanquished and killed by the Só.	Nánigham.	1.
Son of ʿAbd Allah.			A.H. 753. A.D. 1352.
Edrís.	Reigned in the middle of A.D. 1353 (A.H. 754), when Ébn Batúta, who calls him king of Bórnu, returned from his visit to Mélle and Songhay by way of Tekádda. It is evident that the sons of ʿAbd Allah having all died, the royal dignity reverted to the family of Nikále (Ibrahím). Whether Edrís was more successful than his predecessors against the Só we are not informed, nor do we know anything of his reign; and indeed the great uncertainty which prevails as to the place where he died, seems to intimate rather a quiet reign, at least as regards its latter period, though, as Dámmasak was one of the chief strongholds of the Só, it would have been of some importance for us to know positively whether he died there.	Njímiye.	25.
Son of Nikále (Íbrahím) and Hafsa.		This is the current tradition; but some maintained that he died at Dámmasak.[189]	A.H. 754-778. A.D. 1353-1376.
	He made a pilgrimage to Mekka, and is therefore called “Háj Edrís” by Makrízí.
[640]Dáúd.	A very important, but rather unfortunate reign, bearing the germs of the expulsion of the Bórnu dynasty from Kánem, their original seat, and of the transference of their residence to Bórnu. The successful aggressors were the Búlala (as the name is written in the chronicle), or rather Bulála (as Imám Áhmed constantly writes it, and as the name is pronounced generally), who, originating from a branch line of the royal family of Kánem, by their forefather Jíl Shikomémi (a son of Dúnama Díbalámi?), had founded a powerful principality in the territory of Fittrí (“the lake”), over the numerous tribes of the Kúka (Leo’s Gaoga). As to the period of the rise of this dynasty, we have the distinct testimony of Imám Áhmed, that it was after the time of Dúnama Díbalámi.[190]	Mélfala.	10.
Son of Nikále (Íbrahím) and Fátima, a sister of Hafsa the mother of his brother and predecessor Edrís.			A.H. 779-788. A.D. 1377-1386.
	Weakened by a civil war with one or more of his sons, who, having been beaten, seem to have taken refuge with the pagans of the tribe of Ghammúwa, where Edrís Alawóma found their progeny, Dáúd ben Nikále was driven out of Njímiye, the old capital, and finally killed by ʿAbd el Jelíl, the Bulála king.
ʿOthman.	Seems to have waged the war with the Bulála at first with some success, and even to have retaken Njímiye, when he likewise succumbed. He, as well as his successor, became known to Makrízí.	Njímiye.	4.
Son of Dáud.			A.H. 789-792. A.D. 1387-1390.
ʿOthmán.	Sustained the struggle for two years, when he met the same fate as his uncle and his cousin. During this time there was a prince in Háusa, or Afunú, called Mastúr, in a certain degree of dependency on Kánem. (Makrízí.)		2.
Son of Edrís and Famáfa.			A.H. 793-794. A.D. 1391-1392.
Ábú Bakr Liyátu.	Was killed by the Bulála, after a reign of a few months.	Shefiyári, in Kánem.	9 mo.
Son of Dáúd.			A.H. 795. A.D. 1392.
[641]ʿOmár.	This prince was at length so hardly pressed by the Bulála that he finally, with the consent of his ʿulama, gave up Kánem entirely, transferring his residence to Kaghá, a district of some forty miles in extent, between Ujé and Gújeba, notorious in Bórnu as the refuge of every defeated party during the civil wars, where they went to recruit their strength. And though, in the course of time, Bórnu recovered from intestine troubles, and flourished once more under mighty princes, who even vanquished the Bulála, none of them ever returned to Kánem in order to fix his residence there.	Demaghíya.	5.
Son of Edrís.		(Not, as it seems, Maghíya.)	A.H. 796-800. A.D. 1394-1398.
Sʿaíd.	A usurper, as it would seem; for the chronicle does not give him the usual title of sultan, but calls him merely “melek,” and does not name his father. Nevertheless he must be reckoned in the list of the Bórnu kings. The Bulála, not content with having wrested Kánem from the hands of their enemies, followed them into their new retreat, and vanquished and killed Sʿaíd near Dekakíya.	Dekakíya.	1.
			A.H. 801. A.D. 1398-9.
Kadé Áfunú.	Fell likewise in the war with the Bulála in the course of a year, having, as it would seem, resumed the offensive. Why the surname “Áfnó,” or “Áfunú,” was given to him is not clear; perhaps from his mother being of Áfno (Háusa) origin.	Ghadhurú (?).	1.
Son of Edrís.		(Not Ghumuzú.)	A.H. 802. A.D. 1399-1400.
Bíri.	A long reign, after several short and unfortunate ones; but the only fact with regard to it of which we are informed, namely, a civil war between the king and the keghámma or seraskier, Mohammed ben Diltu, is not of a kind to give an idea of repose and happiness. The ensuing period of the history of Bórnu may be called a period of civil war and of the greatest distress.	Kanántú.	33.
Son of Edrís.		(In Bagharmi?)	A.H. 803-835. A.D. 1400-1432.
ʿOthmán Kalnama.	Succumbed, after a short reign of a few months, to the party of the keghámma Nikále ben Ibrahím and the yeríma Kadé;[642] and deprived of his throne, he appears to have been obliged to seek refuge in the Áfnó (Háusa) province of Kanó, where he died, or more probably was killed.	Áfunú, Kano.[191]	9 mo.
Son of Dáúd.			A.H. 836. A.D. 1432.
Dúnama.	Was murdered after a short reign.	Nánigham.	2.
Son of ʿOmár.			A.H. 836-838. A.D. 1433-4.
ʿAbd Allah, or Dála.	Was embroiled in a civil war with the keghámma ʿAbd Allah Dighelma, who even dethroned him, and made Íbrahím the son of ʿOthmán king, but, on the death of the latter, restored him to the throne. The eight years attributed to his reign by the negligently-written chronicle seem to comprise the two periods of his reign, before and after Íbrahím; or it must be understood that Íbrahím placed ʿAbd Allah again upon the throne, after the death of keghámma.	Famelfa.	8.
Son of ʿOmar, with the surname Dakumúni.			A.H. 838-846. A.D. 1435-1442.
Íbrahím.	Seems to have excited the discontent of his subjects by neither keeping a regular court nor showing himself to his people. After a reign of eight years he was murdered by Kadé (his brother?). Though this is the only king of the name of Íbrahím in the list of Bórnu kings of the end of the 15th, or the beginning of the 16th century, it is evident that he could not have been a contemporary of Leo Africanus, and that the latter erred, from lapse of memory, in the account of Africa which he composed several years after his visit to those countries, in calling the king who reigned over Bórnu during the time of his visit Íbrahím.	Zamtam.	8.
Son of ʿOthmán.		One day N. from Ghámbarú.	A.H. 846-854. A.D. 1442-1450.
Kadé.	Succumbed, after a short reign, to a rival, Dúnama son of Bíri.	Amará, or Amazá.	1.
Son of ʿOthmán.			A.H. 854-5. A.D. 1450-1.
Dúnama.		Aghakúwah.	4.
Son of Bíri.			A.H. 855-859. A.D. 1451-1455.
Mohammed.		Mazá.	5 mo.
Son of Mátala.			A.H. 859. A.D. 1455.
[643]Mer, or Amer.		Tármata.	1.
Son of ʿAáisha daughter of ʿOthmán.			A.H. 860. A.D. 1456.
Mohammed.	A very cruel and sanguinary prince; probably reigned but a very short time, only a few days.	Meghjibád-Nerí-Kerbúri (?).	(?)
Son of Kadé.
Ghají.	Defeated in battle, and killed by Mohammed son of ʿAbd Allah, the king of Kánem.	Matakla Ghamer.	5.
Son of Amála, or Imáta.			A.H. 861-865. A.D. 1456-1461.
ʿOthman.	Notwithstanding his excellent qualities as a prince, he was dethroned in consequence of a civil war with ʿAlí Ghajidéni, who, though he apparently had the upper hand, by some unknown circumstances, or from some unknown reasons of his own, to which we have no key, allowed another person to occupy the throne that had thus become vacant.	Mikidhá.	5.
Son of Kadé.			A.H. 866-870. A.D. 1461-1466.
ʿOmár.	A despotical reign, spent in dispute with a more powerful and successful rival, Mohammed ben Mohammed, who, in the course of a year, gained the upper hand, and probably killed ʿOmár.	Ghomtalú. (Reká?)	1.
Son of ʿAbd Allah.			A.H. 871. A.D. 1466.
Mohammed.	A courageous and powerful prince.	Breda.[192]	5.
Son of Mohammed.			A.H. 872-876. A.D. 1467-1471.
ʿAlí.	A glorious reign, beginning a new epoch in the history of Bórnu. First of all, ʿAlí Ghajidéni made an end of the civil wars, which had torn and wasted the kingdom for so long a period, having vanquished and killed his old rival ʿOthmán ben Kadé, whom he had formerly dethroned, and who began the struggle once more. He then restored the equilibrium between the different officers of high rank, the excessive power of some of these officers, particularly that of the keghámma[193], having been the principal cause of all those disturbances;[644] and in order to concentrate the government, he built a large capital, Ghasréggomo, generally called Birni, the future residence of the kings of Bórnu, on the river Wáú, three days west from the modern town Kúkawa. For until this period the Bórnu people lived only in temporary encampments in the conquered country, although Nánigham had been the ordinary residence of the kings. It was in this king’s reign, doubtless, that Leo visited Bórnu; and it is by this author that we are informed of one of the many wars which the prince carried on, who, on this account alone, of all the kings of Bórnu, seems to have obtained the surname “el Gházi”—“the warrior,” or rather “the conqueror.” Wángara—that is, the country of the Eastern Mandingoes, about the name and extent of which we shall not leave any doubt in our further inquiries—seems, indeed, to be rather distant from Bórnu, particularly if it be taken into consideration that the nearest provinces were ill subjected; but if the Baramuwása be identical, as can scarcely be doubted, with the frontier-river between Bórgu and Yóruba, Wángara was close to the western frontier of the tributary provinces of Bórnu, and it is only to be attributed to the miserable character of the chronicle, and to the general scantiness of our sources, that we hear nothing of the several expeditions which the Bórnu kings made into the provinces of the Kwára, and of the interesting relation which appears to have existed between Bórnu and some of the Bórgu places, particularly Brúsa. It is moreover to be taken into account, that Wángara probably extended, at that time, more to the east, and almost reached the Kwára.	Ghasréggomo.	33.
Son of Dúnama, known generally in Bórnu under the name of Mai ʿAlí Ghajidéni.			A.H. 877-909. A.D. 1472-1504.
	But the Bulála, the old and inveterate enemies of Bórnu, were not yet humiliated; and it was an inroad of the king of that empire into Bórnu which obliged ʿAlí Ghajidéni (assuming him to be identical, as he certainly is, with Leo’s Íbrahím) to give up the conquest of Wángara. That the name of this king of the Bulála was ʿOmár, as Leo says, we have strong reasons to doubt, and think it another lapse of memory.[645] It was probably Selma, or ʿAbd el Jelíl, the father of the prince whom Edrís, ʿAlí’s son and successor, vanquished. The name ʿOmár seems not to occur at all in the dynasty of the Bulála.
	But we have another account, which gives us a glance into the warlike career of ʿAlí Ghajidéni, and informs us of one of his expeditions into the far west. For this account we are indebted to Sultan Béllo, who relates in his “Enfák el misúri fi fat-ha belád el Tekrúri”[194], that Kantá, whose age as a contemporary of ʿAlí ben Dúnama, is fixed by the fact that he lived in the time of Háj Mohammed Áskiá, “having oppressed the inhabitants of the provinces conquered by him,” Sultan “ʿAlí Alij,” as he is called in the translation, marched from Bórnu against him, and beat him near Suráme, his capital (see Vol. IV.), on the ʿAíd el kebír; but not being able to reduce this strong place, ʿAlí was obliged to retire, when Kantá, having collected a large army, followed him till he reached Onghoor (most probably Ngarú), “where they met and fought together, and Kantá won the battle,” without, however, being able to follow up his victory. This war must fall about the very end of the reign of ʿAlí Ghajidéni.
	The glory of this reign makes it intelligible how Bórnu, or Bernu, appears in Portuguese maps as early as the year 1489.
Edrís.	The worthy son and successor of ʿAlí, who accomplished what remained necessary for the greatness and the peace of the Bórnu empire, viz. the humiliation and subjection of the Bulála. A short time, therefore, after he had ascended the throne, he went with a strong army to Kánem, beat the Bulála prince Dúnama son of ʿAbd el Jelíl, or Selma, at Gharni Kiyála, and entered Njímiye, the old capital of the empire of Kánem and Bórnu, 122 years after King Dáúd had abandoned it (see[646] above, p. 259.). Having then heard, on his return to Bórnu, that Ádim, another son of ʿAbd el Jelíl, had usurped the throne after his brother’s death, he returned once more, vanquished Ádim, and established for a long period the dependency of Kánem upon Bórnu. (Imám Áhmed.) It could only have been Edrís, and not Músa—a name which does not at all occur in the list of the kings of Bórnu—who sent an embassy to Tripoli in the year 1512[195], a circumstance which clearly shows the elevated political views of that king. Of the other achievements of his brilliant career, we are unfortunately deprived by the loss or concealment of the contemporaneous account of his reign by the fákih Masfárma ʿOmár ben ʿOthmán, though I still entertain hopes that the work may some day or other come to light.	Waláma.	23.
Son of ʿAlí and ʿAáisha, with the surname of Katarkamábi.			A.H. 910-932. A.D. 1504-1526.
Mohammed.	A very powerful and mighty king, successful in all directions. He vanquished and killed Kadé the son of ʿAbd el Jelíl and Lifya, who, only forty days after Mohammed had ascended the throne, came to attack him at Nathá; and in consequence of this victory kept Kánem in a state of strict obedience. His reign is very important to us, because he is one of the kings of Bórnu of whose conquests and activity towards the west we have obtained some positive account. For, as we learn from the Christian captive in Tripoli[196], Mohammed fought a great and celebrated battle with the king of Kébbi—probably Tómo, of the dynasty of the Kantá, who founded Birni-n-Kebbi. The “captive,” unfortunately, does not state what was the issue of the battle; but although we cannot agree with Mr. Blau, who interprets the words of our chronicle, “gareb hú ila hedúd el Kabará bememlekettihi,”[197] as if Mohammed had extended[647] his empire as far as Kabara, the harbour of Timbúktu, we must conclude that he was victorious. Finally, to speak of the little we know, it must have been he who sent the embassy to Tripoli in the year 1534, if the date be correct.	Ghasréggomo.	19.
Son of Edrís and Zíneb.			A.H. 933-951. A.D. 1526-1545.
	There is certainly, in the passage of our chronicle which relates to the reign of this king, some degree of confusion; and it is very unfortunate that, after having aspired to a little more completeness, it just becomes exceedingly brief and dry in the most interesting part of the history of the Bórnu kingdom. The confused passage has been taken into account in a preceding comment; and we are not able at present to explain why this energetic prince, who waged war on the opposite borders of his extensive empire, at immense distances from each other, can be said to have resided “nineteen [years] in Ladé.” But the fact may simply have been that he did not like to reside in the large capital or birni, Ghasréggomo, but preferred dwelling in a small neighbouring town; or perhaps it was one of the objects of his ambition to transfer the seat of government, from the place chosen by his predecessors, to some new place of his own choice. Even at the present day there is a place of the name of Ladé in the neighbourhood of Ghambarú; and another one is mentioned by Imám Áhmed, at four short days’ journey on the road to Kánem.
	Be this as it may, “the kingdom of Bórnu reached under Mohammed the highest pitch of its greatness.” I here, therefore, add a list of the twelve great offices, or ʿalám, which constituted the chief machinery of the empire, and which are already indicated by Makrízí[198] in the words, “and they have twelve princes.” Imám Áhmed calls these high officers generally “el akáber el áʿalám,” or “erbáb e’ dúleh,” or “el omrá.” They are all mentioned by him, except the gháladíma, the fugúma, and the kaghustémma:—
	Kayghámma, or Keghámma, corresponding to[648] the seraskier (or commander-in-chief) of the Turkish empire, and possessing very great power.
	Yeríma, or Híríma (both forms occur indiscriminately in Imám Áhmed’s history), the governor of Yerí, or “tsidí Yeríbe,” the district between Birni Ghasréggomo and Múniyó[199], the inhabitants of which are called by Imám Áhmed “áhel e’ shemál.”
	Gháladíma, the governor of the Gháladí, a province comprising the western countries, from Ngarú as far as the Kwára (called, by the Kanúri, Kwalla).
	Chiróma (generally written by Imám Áhmed Thiróma, or Shiróma), the heir apparent, son or brother of the king.
	Fugúma, the governor in the interior of Ghasréggomo, with power over life and death.
	Bágharíma, sometimes mentioned as an officer of great importance, who, in the time of the civil wars, often raised his ambition even to the throne; but I have not been able to make out what the department, or province, called bágharí, really was. It has nothing whatever to do with Bagírmi.
	Síntelma. This title seems to belong originally to some department connected with the government of Kánem, but what were the duties of its office I cannot say. The title is still common in Bórnu, and will frequently occur in my narrative, though at present it is of little importance.
	Kásalma, or Kájelma, governor of the eastern provinces of Kánem.
	Kaghustémma, governor of Kaghústi, one of the western districts of Kánem. (See Vol. III. App. II.)
	Arjinóma. His province is not exactly known to me, except that it appears from Imám Áhmed, that he belonged to the governors of the northern provinces of the empire, “el omrá e’ shemalíyín.”
	Mestréma, or Metréma, chief eunuch of the harím.
	Yíroma (not to be confounded with the Yeríma), under the mestréma, but nevertheless, at least in the time of Edrís Alawóma, an office of importance.
	The other governors of large towns, such as[649] Wúdi, Díkowa, &c., had the title “mainta;” and there were many smaller charges, such as “búma,” probably signifying a “judge of life and death,” from “bú,” the blood. The king had forty lifeguards, in a narrower sense, men of great authority, called “góma,” twenty at his left hand, and twenty at his right.
	I now proceed with the list of the succeeding kings.
ʿAlí.	A just prince, who kept Kánem in strict subjection, but whose reign was too short to be of any importance.	Zamtam.	1.
Son of Edrís and Zíneb.			A.H. 952. A.D. 1545.
Dúnama, surnamed Ghamarámi.	Vanquished ʿAbd el Jelíl the son of Kadé the king of Kánem, who, once more assuming the offensive, had come to attack him in his own kingdom at Berberuwá, where Dúnama defeated him, followed him thence to Kánem, and beat him in another battle, in which fell the heir apparent of the throne of Kánem, and several other great men of the Bulála. After this, Kánem once more remained quiet and in a state of subjection; but the people of that country, nevertheless, continued to make predatory incursions into Bórnu. The only other fact which we know of his reign, is that he fortified Ghasréggomo, the capital or birni, built by ʿAlí ben Dúnama. The chronicle, moreover, states that in his reign there was a great famine in Bórnu. It must have been he also who concluded a treaty with Dragút, the famous renegade, in 1555.	Ghasréggomo.	19.
Son of Mohammed.			A.H. 953-971. A.D. 1546-1563.
ʿAbd Allah, or Dála.	Under him nothing very remarkable seems to have happened. After some time, ʿAbd el Jelíl, king of Kánem, whose officers never ceased to make predatory incursions into Bórnu, died, and was succeeded by his son ʿAbd Allah. It is, however, a fact of the highest importance that, under the reign of this Bórnu king, we get the first intimation of the settlements of the Fúlbe, or, as they are called by the Kanúri, the Fellátah (“kabílet el Felatíye”), in Bórnu.[200] In ʿAbd Allah’s reign, also, there is said to have been a great famine in the land.	Kítaba.	7.
Son of Dúnama.			A.H. 972-978. A.D. 1564-1570.
[650]Edrís Amsámi,	This is certainly the most important reign for us, as this excellent and energetic prince found in his imám, Áhmed ben Fúrtua (or ben Sofíya), a trustworthy and able historian, whose work has outlived the dynasty of the Séfuwa, and fallen into my hands. But, unfortunately, it comprises only the first twelve years of his reign, so that of the remaining twenty-one years, equally rich in events, we know nothing at all. The imám Áhmed wrote one part of his work evidently in the year of the Hejra 990 or 991, at the end of Rejeb, in the capital Ghasréggomo; the other part, which contains an account of the expeditions to Kánem, which likewise belong to the first years of the long reign of Edrís, a little later.	Aláwo.	33.
Or as he is more generally called, from Aláwo, his place of burial, Alawóma, son of ʿAlí ben Edrís ben ʿAlí ben Ahmed Dúnama ben ʿOthmán ben el Háj Edrís.			(not 53.) A.H. 979-1011. A.D. 1571-1603.
	Edrís Alawóma seems to have ascended the throne after a short interregnum, during which the reins of government were held by the queen mother, or mágira, ʿAáisha Kel-eghrármarám[201], who appears to have been a very distinguished woman, probably of Berber origin, realizing to the Kanúri the ideal perfection of a female, and therefore called “mai kámobe.” Probably it was she who instilled into her son that harmonious union of warlike courage and vigour on the one hand, with mildness and justice on the other, which were the characteristic qualities of this excellent prince. Not long after his accession to the throne, he appears to have sent, probably under the influence of his mother, an embassy to Tripoli, the secure intercourse with which place was very important for any enterprising prince of Bórnu; and to this intercourse we evidently have to ascribe the very remarkable fact, that this king possessed already a good many musketeers, who decided the issue of the most serious battles. We find also in the imám’s history an interesting account of a numerous caravan arriving from the north with a great many Arab horses for sale. I have no doubt that the French Prisoner in Tripoli was mistaken in ascribing[651] the embassy, which in the year 1578 arrived in that place to ʿAbd Allah instead of to the new prince, who had only a few years previously ascended the throne, and was not yet known on the coast.
	With regard to the interior affairs of the kingdom, the principal object of Edrís Alawóma seems to have been to subdue entirely, or even to exterminate, if possible, those heterogeneous elements of which the kingdom had been formed, and which had been allowed by his predecessors (intent on the superficial advantages of distant conquests) to undermine the very strength of the empire. He therefore seems to have turned his attention immediately to the Só, or Soy, who, though evidently greatly reduced from their former predominance and power, yet still possessed many extensive districts and numerous strongholds in the immediate neighbourhood of the principal settlements of the Bórnu people, against whom they not only successfully vindicated their independence, but even continually harassed them by inroads. He therefore first attacked that division of this great tribe which inhabited the fertile districts on the river (Komádugu Wáúbe), and was called Gháffate (Ngaufate?), with several subdivisions, among which we find the names of the Ghidáma and the Dughúti. In order to conquer their extensive and strong capital, Dámasak, he built at some distance from it a large and fortified camp, where he placed a great part of his army, and further north another smaller one. Having harassed the enemy for some time by daily attacks from these places, cutting down their corn and their trees, he at length undertook to besiege the place; and having succeeded in taking it, he killed or carried away its inhabitants, after which the smaller places around shared the same fate. The rest of the people of Dughúti fled to Kánem. He then attacked another large and strong pagan fortress called Ámsaka, or Ámasak, situated between Gamerghú and Mándará, and succeeded in taking it chiefly by means of his muskets. He then proceeded against the tribe of the Gamerghú,[652] who had been left undisturbed by all the preceding kings, and took several of their towns.
	Having in this way strengthened the loose structure of his empire towards the east, he turned westward against Kanó[202], a name which by the historian is evidently used only to denote the whole province, and not a single town. Indeed, from what he says about Dalá, it is evident that there was no large town named Kanó at that time. The king succeeded in destroying all the strongholds of the province, which our author expressly states the Kanáwa had then first built, viz. Kazrá, Kelmásana (this seems a Berber name), Majíya, Ukluya, Dulúwo, Auzáki, Ajíyajíya, Saʿayá, Ghálaki, Kayí, and others; but as for Dalá[203], the strongest of these “shokíya” or stockades, he was unable to take it. This Dalá was evidently the village built at the foot of the rocky mount of the same name, which at present forms, for the most part, the quarter of the Arabs in the town of Kanó. After Edrís had humiliated and weakened, in this way, the inhabitants of Kanó, the people of Bórnu continually made predatory expeditions against them.
	From this circumstance we are enabled to judge of the state of affairs in these loosely aggregated empires; for Kanó had certainly been long before this period a province of Bórnu.
	Edrís Alawóma then directed his efforts towards the north-west, and undertook three expeditions against the Tawárek (Imóshagh) or Berbers, whom he reduced to obedience. The first of these expeditions was called the kerígu or ghazzia of Síktala, or Bútírsa; the second was named after the tribe Dinkir (the Díggera?), settled only two days’ march from Kulíya,[653] against whom it was directed, or after the place Targhígha. These two expeditions seem to have been of secondary importance; the third, however, was directed against the Berbers of Aïr, on which occasion, starting from Át-rébisa[204], and passing the town Ghamarama, he overtook a numerous host of the inhabitants of Ahír, or Aïr, in the open desert, between the town Tádsa and Aïr, and having, as the imám says, made a great slaughter of them, returned to Zibdúwa, thence to the town Susubáki, and, having remained there awhile, retired to Muniyó.[205] Already, at an earlier date than these three expeditions led by him in person, his vizier, Kúrsuwa ben Harún, had fought a battle with the Tawárek, who had come with a numerous host of Tildhin (?)[206], and other people, to attack him at Aghalwen. Having thus broken the strength of those Berber tribes, he ordered the Kil-yíti, or rather Kélwáti[207], who were living in his dominions, to make continual inroads into their territory, till they were obliged to sue for peace, when they were allowed to return to their former seats, vowing a qualified allegiance to the king of Bórnu, while they ceased to yield obedience to the ruler of Aïr.[208] It is to be lamented that the imám Áhmed does not call the inhabitants of Aïr by the name of their tribe, as it would have been a matter of the greatest interest for us to know what tribe of Berbers had possession of the country at the time. It seems that the Kilyíti, or Kelwáti, are identical with the Keléti, or Jotko, who, intermixed with Tebu, are living on the north side of the komádugu, between Dúchi and Yó.
	I will here also mention the interesting expedition which Edrís Alawóma undertook[654] some time previously, as it seems, against the Tebu, or Tedá, of the province of Durku, or Dirki, and of Ághram[209] (or Táshi), when, after subjugating the whole country—a measure so important for the communications with the coast—he made a long stay in Bilma, or Bulma. Here we have an example of a similar state of things to those in Kanó; for all this country had long before been tributary to Bórnu. In order to secure facility of access to these distant and inhospitable regions, he built large boats on the komádugu, and collected great herds of camels.
	Having thus secured his influence in the far distant northern provinces, Edrís again turned southward against the rebellious Marghí prince Maghaya, and having made an inroad into Kufshi, or Kubshi[210], Mitku, and Humdi (these two last places being situated on or at the foot of a rock), and having made captive a part of the prince’s family, the latter came to Birni and threw dust upon his head. After this the ex-ruler of Mándará (Wándalá), having come to ask his assistance against an uncle who had deprived him of his throne, Edrís marched against Karáwa[211], then the capital of Mándará; but the inhabitants having retreated to the summit of the high mountain which is to the west of the town, he was obliged to retrace his steps without effecting his purpose. However, the next year he returned better prepared, and, sitting down at the foot of the rock, compelled the people of Mándará and their chief to quit their retreat and make their submission; and he then reinstated the rightful prince.
	After this King Edrís led his victorious army against the Eastern Nghizim, who had first directed their predatory forays against the Felláta settled in Bórnu[212], but had[655] soon ceased to make any distinction between foreigners and natives, and attacked all who fell in their way. For two years he laid waste their fields, destroying even the plantations of cotton and sesamum, while his vizier Kúrsuwa ransacked the town Meghúluma till he reduced the inhabitants to obedience. He then without delay proceeded against the western Nghizim, called Bináwa by Imám Áhmed. These Bináwa infested all the neighbouring provinces of the empire, and wholly interrupted the communication between Bórnu and an important trading-place in the west, called by our historian Fágha, and probably identical with the Rágha, or Ragháy, mentioned by Ébn Batúta, just in the same quarter, lying between Góber—that is, the original country of that name, with the capital Tínshamán—and Bórnu. Having conquered all their strongholds,—viz. Máwa, Ágham, Báni, and Ghujémbiná[213],—he so terrified the people around, that all, even those of Katágum[214] included, made their submission. The Nghizim are identical with the tribe now generally called Nkizám, which is at present greatly reduced, living in the following places, all lying between Auyók and Katágum:—Táshiná, Únik, Shágató, Chibiay, Belángu, Badda, Rómeri, Zóngolom, Melebétiye, Úmarí, and a few more.
	After all these warlike undertakings, this active prince, having rested for a little more than a year, undertook a pilgrimage to Mekka, probably in the ninth year of his reign. Having returned from thence, “Háj Edrís,” as he is now to be styled, led his army against the Tetála, or Telála[215], a warlike and high-spirited pagan tribe settled in the[656] neighbourhood and on the islands of the Tsád (probably identical with the Yediná or, as they are generally named, Búdduma), and whose hatred against their oppressors was so intense that they refused fellowship at meals to those among themselves who had not killed a Mohammedan. They prided themselves chiefly on their white spears. This is exactly in harmony with the custom of the Búdduma. Edrís, in order to subdue them, made use of the Katakú, or Kótokó[216], whom he ordered to harass the enemy by continual incursions with their boats, exactly in the same manner as the sheikh of Bórnu at the present day, when he wants to trouble the Búdduma, orders the people of Máfaté to make an inroad against them. The Tetála retreated into the swampy grounds of the Tsád.[217] Edrís then beat the governor of Mafaté[218], who came to attack him with a number of boats, destroyed the town of Kansa-Kusku, as he had also destroyed Saya[219] and Taghálaghá, belonging to the tribe of the Ghamá, or Ngamá, and other places, and built several fortified encampments, or “sansanne,” in the neighbourhood. The Mákari[220], who seem to be identical with the Kótokó, appear to have offered him friendship or submission, with the exception of the people of Kúsuri[221], whose governor he succeeded in taking prisoner, and of Sabálghutu. He then proceeded once more against Mándará, and vanquished that rebellious and stubborn nation.
	We shall now notice, but briefly, the expeditions of Edrís to Kánem, which likewise fall within the first twelve years of his[657] reign, but have been described separately by the imám. I can dismiss this subject here in a few words, as I have had occasion to make use of the rich geographical materials contained in this account in the course of my narrative. Edrís, during the first twelve years of his reign, went five times to Kánem; and he may have gone there frequently again in the following years. We have seen above that Kánem, after having been for more than a century entirely torn off from the empire, had been again subdued by preceding Bórnu kings. Edrís Alawóma, on ascending the throne of Bórnu, concluded a treaty of peace with ʿAbd Allah the ruling prince of Kánem; and, what is very remarkable as a commentary on the state of civilization in these countries, the conditions of this treaty were diplomatically exhibited in two written copies, nothing remaining to be settled but a dispute about three places, viz. Kálliya, ʿAkúta, and Belúji, which the people of Bórnu wished to obtain. But ʿAbd Allah died; and his son Mohammed, who succeeded him, was, after a short time, dethroned by his uncle ʿAbd el Jelíl ben ʿAbd el Jelíl, who broke off the negotiation and refused allegiance. In the struggle which ensued, Edrís was, on the whole, victorious, although the Bórnu army apparently sustained some heavy losses; Njímiye, and all the country even further east, was taken from Kánem; but as soon as Edrís turned his back, ʿAbd el Jelíl, with his light troops, was again there, till the Bórnu king at last conferred the crown of Kánem again upon Mohammed, attaching to him a strong party of native chiefs, chiefly Arabs. However, he was obliged to return once more to that country so difficult to manage, Mohammed having been beaten by his restless adversary. Subsequently he was more successful, and by a stipulation the whole of Kánem as far as Babáliyá was attached to Bórnu. Of subsequent events we are wholly ignorant, and hear no more of Kánem till a recent period. During these expeditions Edrís inflicted severe blows upon the Tebu population of[658] Kánem; and we have already seen that, in consequence, a great number of them migrated to Bórnu.
	Of the events of the one-and-twenty years which followed these first twelve years of this excellent prince, we at present know nothing. But I do not doubt that zealous research may hereafter bring some more documents to light. From the manner of Edrís’s death it may be concluded that he waged war till his last moment; for he died, according to tradition, on the battlefield, being wounded in his breast by a hand-bill or góliyó, thrown at him by a pagan concealed in a tree, while waging war with a tribe on the borders of Bagírmi, perhaps the Ghamergú. We only know for certain that he was buried in Aláwo, a place in the district of Ujé, which I have touched upon on my journey to Ádamáwa.
	But notwithstanding these continual wars in which the Bórnu hero was engaged, “he promoted the prosperity of the country, and the wealth of the towns.” Indeed this is the only particular which the meagre chronicle relates of him besides mentioning the war with ʿAbd el Jelíl; and we know from Imám Áhmed that he built the mosques of clay in Birni Ghasréggomo, superseding those of reeds; and it is to him probably that we must refer the brick ruins in that town as well as in Ghambarú.
	Altogether Edrís Alawóma appears to have been an excellent prince, uniting in himself the most opposite qualities: warlike energy combined with mildness and intelligence; courage, with circumspection and patience; severity, with pious feelings. And I hope my readers will draw more favourable conclusions from this example as to the general character of the Bórnu kings than Denham did from the degenerate shadow of his time, when he says[222] that “a sultan of Bórnu carries no arms, and it is beneath his dignity to defend himself.” Certainly such a man as Edrís rarely stands alone; and we cannot refuse to join with his name that of his first minister, the warlike[659] and intelligent Edrís ben Harún, who succeeded in that office his elder brother Kúrsuwa, and who by his excellent arrangements, as well as by his courage, guaranteed the success of many of his master’s undertakings.
Mohammed,	An excellent prince, but less warlike and enterprising, as it would seem, than his father, whose vigour was no longer necessary, the empire being well established.	Dekána (?).[223]	16 y. 7 m.
With the surname Bukalmarámi. Son of Edrís and Fanna.		(Perhaps in the territory of the Duggana.)	A.H. 1011-1027. A.D. 1602-1618.
Íbrahím.	Sent an embassy to Tripoli in the year 1627.	Ghasréggomo.	7 y. 7 m.
Son of Edrís and Ghumsu.			A.H. 1027-1035. A.D. 1618-1625.
Háj ʿOmár.	Made the pilgrimage to Mekka in the year 1642, having ascended the throne, according to the French document, in the year 1634 (1624?).	Ghasréggomo.	19 y. 9 m.
Son of Edrís and Fisháma.			A.H. 1036-1055. A.D. 1625-1645.
ʿAlí	A valiant and intelligent man, who thrice made the pilgrimage to Mekka, viz. in the years 1648, 1656, and 1667; when returning on the last occasion from his distant journey, he had to extinguish a revolution. He waged several wars with the sultan of Aïr residing in Ágades, and was once besieged in his capital at the same time by the Tawárek and by the Köana, or Kwona, a division of the Korórofa, who had long been subjected to Bórnu, when he managed to set the latter against the former, and then destroyed them also. It seems that in his reign the country was afflicted by several long famines, which distressed the inhabitants greatly, and which can scarcely be explained but by supposing an unsettled state of the country, which did not allow the people to cultivate the ground.	Ghasréggomo.	40.
Ben el Háj ʿOmár.			A.H. 1055-1095. A.D. 1645-1684.
Edrís	This is the king who has been omitted by mistake in the chronicle.	(?)	20.
Ben ʿAlí.			A.H. 1096-1115. A.D. 1685-1704.
[660]Dúnama	Another long famine of seven years is mentioned by the chronicle.	Ghasréggomo.	19.
Ben ʿAlí.			A.H. 1115-1134. A.D. 1704-1722.
Háj Hamdún	A pious and indolent king, who appears to have made a pilgrimage.	Ghasréggomo.	14.
Ben Dúnama.			A.H. 1135-1148. A.D. 1723-1736.
Mohammed,	Of his reign likewise we know nothing but of a famine which lasted two years. These princes, indeed, seem in general to have seldom left their favourite residence, where they indulged in luxury and ostentation, while the kingdom was falling to pieces and became unable to resist any shock which might come from without.	Ghasréggomo.	16.
With the surname Erghámma. Son of El Háj Hamdún.			A.H. 1149-1164. A.D. 1737-1751.
Dúnama,	The chronicle mentions, under his short reign, a very severe famine.	Ghasréggomo.	2 y. 7 m.
With the surname Ghaná, “the little.” The young son of Mohammed.			A.H. 1165-1168. A.D. 1752-1755.
ʿAlí	Is greatly praised by the chronicle as a most excellent prince; but it is evident that he was such only from a monkish point of view. He seems, however, to have excelled in a peculiar kind of energy, being mentioned by Lucas as the father of three hundred male children.[224] I cannot say with absolute certainty whether it was he who made a most unfortunate expedition against Mándará, to the ill success of which most of the intelligent Bórnu people attribute the weakness of the empire under the following reign, when it was attacked by the fanatic troops of the Felláta, the best part of the army having been slain by the inhabitants of Mándará. ʿAlí seems also to have made several expeditions against the Bedde.		40.
Ben el Háj Dúnama.			A.H. 1168-1207. A.D. 1755-1793.
Áhmed	“A learned prince, liberal towards the ʿulama; a prodigal dispenser of alms, a friend of science and religion, gracious and compassionate towards the poor.” So says the chronicle. However well deserved this praise may be, certainly Áhmed was not[661] the man to save the kingdom from the dangers which surrounded it.	Ghasréggomo.	17.
Ben ʿAlí.			A.H. 1208-1225. A.D. 1793-1810.
	But although the empire was already prepared for ruin, there supervened a powerful cause of weakness; for under Áhmed a very severe pestilence visited Bórnu, carrying off a great number of people. This plague is said to have been announced by an eclipse of the sun, which preceded it by two years.
	About 1808 began the inroads of the Fúlbe or Felláta, who had conquered successfully the ancient Háusa kingdoms, which till then had been in a sort of tributary dependence upon Bórnu. The consequence was that their countrymen, settled in Bórnu from ancient times, as we have seen, being harassed by persecution, collected together in Gújebá, and from that point began their conquests, vanquishing all the officers whom Áhmed sent against them; they then marched against Ghasréggomo, led on by Malá Rída, Mukhtár, and Hanníma, defeated the army of the sultan, who escaped by the eastern gate while they entered the town from the west side. Áhmed then went to reside in Kurnáwa. This happened in the year of the Hejra 1224, or 1809 of our era, on a Sunday; but I cannot say in what month. From that place the distressed king sent a message to the fáki Mohammed el Amín el Kánemí, who, on account of his marriage with the daughter of the governor of Ngála, had begun to oppose himself to the progress of the conquerors; for, having begged his father-in-law to allow him to take his wife and daughter with him to Fezzán, the latter refused, so that the fáki, together with his friends Mohammed Tiráb, and Ibrahím Wádáy collected in Bínder, on the west border of the Tsád, a small force, said to have consisted of five horsemen and two hundred spearmen, with whom he successfully attacked the Fúlbe, who were disposed to laugh at his threats. Having collected more adventurers and patriotic men round him, he then vanquished the whole force of the conquerors in a battle near Ngórnu, when he is said to have had[662] under his command two hundred men on horseback, and two thousand on foot. Having thus liberated the whole eastern part of Bórnu, he sat down quietly, when Áhmed sent for him. Assisted by the inspiring fanaticism of the fáki, and by the courage and valour of his Kánembú spearmen, Áhmed was enabled to re-enter his capital, but soon after died[225], in the beginning, as it seems, of A.H. 1225.
Dúnama,	Dúnama followed his father, who had already, in his lifetime, chosen him for his successor, and for a short time waged successful war against the enemy, till he too was driven out of his capital by the Fúlbe of Katágum, as it seems, in the end of 1226, or beginning of 1227. He then went wandering about in his own kingdom, changing his residence every few months, first residing in Majé, near Fátóghaná (the ancient Dámasak), then in a place called Aségga, then near Múngonó, then in Bérberuwá, till he placed himself under the protection of the powerful fáki, who alone had proved himself capable of resisting the victorious impulse which attended the march of the Felláta. Indeed a covenant was then made, assigning half of the revenue of the liberated provinces to Mohammed el Amín. The fáki now resided in the large town of Ngórnu (“the blessing”), where he seems to have found zealous support from the many Tebu residing there, while the sultan held his court in some other place. But matters could not long remain in this state; the population were not able to serve two masters, but they were obliged to decide for the one or the other. When, therefore, the people all flocked to the man who had liberated them from a foreign yoke, the old party excited the sultan’s jealousy, and instigated him to rid himself of his troublesome[663] rival. Mohammed el Amín’s authority, however, was so well established in the goodwill of the people, that on being cited before the sultan he was able to appear before him unattended, while the latter dared not hurt him. The consequence was that the fáki’s, or rather the sheikh’s (shékho—for this title he now began to adopt) influence increased every day, and Dúnama, with his party, made a last effort to release himself from that influence, and to preserve the royal dignity. Indeed he might hope that if he succeeded in establishing his court at a certain distance, he might rally around himself the old partisans of royalty; but before he reached Wúdí, the place he had selected for his residence, one of the principal settlements of the Temághera, and which had been the abode of several of the old Bórnu kings, Mohammed el Amín, who perceived that the time was now come when he must decide whether he was to be subject or ruler, even though he did not aspire to the title of king, had him arrested on the road, and brought back to Bérberuwá. But finding him still obstinate, he deposed him altogether, reproaching him with a wish to betray his country; and then he transferred the title and pomp of a sultan to Mohammed, a brother of Áhmed, and uncle of Dúnama. Mohammed then began to build himself a new residence, which is called by the Arabs Birni jedíd, two miles and a half north-west from Ngórnu. But when Mohammed el Amín saw that this man was no less obstinate than Dúnama, he reinstated the latter again. So that Mohammed, having reigned but a short time, and that only by the will of the usurper, is not mentioned at all by the chronicle.	Ngála.	8.
Son of Áhmed, and Mohammed el Amín el Kánemí.			A.H. 1225-1233. A.D. 1810-1817, 1818.
	We may therefore reckon the commencement of the present dynasty of the Kánemíyín from the year 1814 of our era. It is a very remarkable fact, that an utter stranger to the country should become its ruler; but the struggle was not yet at an end, and could not well be ended without much bloodshed as soon as the fascinating personal influence of the liberator was gone by. The sheikh[664] then, having gone so far, in order to separate his position as far as possible from the memory of the ancient times, founded likewise a new residence, which, from the name of the Adansonia digitata, a specimen of which stood on the spot where he wished to build his house, received the name of Kúka, or rather Kúkawa.[226] Being now fairly installed in the government of a vast but very distracted country, while he allowed the pomp of royalty to be borne by the descendant of the Séfuwa, and perhaps purposely exaggerated it, in order to make it ridiculous, he was anxious at the same time to recover the lost provinces, and to defend the country against its south-eastern neighbour, who, from having been a vassal, had become a dangerous enemy. Indeed he had to sustain a long and sanguinary struggle with Bagírmi, in which he was not always successful. He undertook at first to reduce the overbearing and lawless Burgománda, the ruler of that province, to obedience, with the assistance of ʿAbd el Kerím Sabún, the powerful and intelligent prince of Wádáy; but the latter chose rather to consult his own interests, and after carrying away all the treasures, and even many of the inhabitants of Bagírmi, he even granted to Burgománda some sort of protection in return for an annual tribute to be paid to Wádáy, as we shall see in the following volume. At the same time the intelligent Sabún, whose predecessor Mohammed Sáleh, by the conquest of the province of Fittri, had stept into the place of the pretensions raised by the Bulála, endeavoured to gain more ground in Kánem. Meanwhile the powerful king of Wádáy died (A.D. 1815), but even this event did not relieve the situation of El Kánemí; for, in a sudden and unexpected encounter of the two armies in Kótokó, the eldest and most beloved son of the sheikh was slain in 1816, and in 1817 a bloody battle was lost by him at Ngála, on which occasion the titular sultan Dúnama was slain. Mohammed[665] el Kánemí being frustrated in this way, then entered into a covenant with the ruler of Fezzán; and a combined expedition was organized in the year 1818, which was altogether very successful. The whole of the northern part of Bagírmi was overrun, the large towns of Babáliyá and Gáwi were destroyed, and the sheikh spent a day or two in Más-eñá, the capital of the country; but no decisive blow could be struck, the king with his whole army having retired to Mankhfa and taken up a very strong position defended by the river and a great number of boats.
Ibrahím.	Installing in the deceased sultan’s place Ibrám, or Ibrahím, Dúnama’s brother, the sheikh continued the struggle with Bagírmi, and on the 24th of March of the year 1824, as we know from the report of Denham’s expedition, was so fortunate as to gain, on the same battle-field of Ngála, a decided victory over his valiant south-eastern neighbour, which seems to have set him at once at rest. Having thus obtained leisure on this side, and having extinguished a revolt of the Manga, Mohammed el Kánemí seems to have turned his attention westward, in order to recover, if possible, some of the provinces of the old empire of Bórnu. At first he was very successful, and penetrated far into the interior of the province of Bauchi; but in the year 1826 the officers of Sultan Béllo beat his army, and he himself had a narrow escape. He seems to have then concluded a peace. He made also several attempts to reduce Kánem to a state of obedience, and here had to contend with Wádáy. Mohammed el Kánemí died in 1835[227], leaving forty-three sons, and having named for his successor his eldest son ʿOmár, who was to be succeeded, if he should die early, by ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, and then by Yusuf.
A.H. 1233-1263. A.D. 1818-1846.
Sheikh ʿOmár.	ʿOmár’s reign is remarkable on account of his having made an end of the Séfuwa altogether. He seemed from the first desirous of peace in every direction, and had the[666] great advantage, in endeavouring to obtain this object from Bagírmi, that his mother belonged to that country. Having also made peace with the Fúlbe after an unsuccessful expedition against them, he had some difficulty in restraining the governors of the western provinces, who are almost independent vassals, from making incursions into their territory. It was on this account that he was obliged, in the beginning of 1846, to send a strong army, commanded by his brother ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, against Ibrám, the restless governor of Zínder, whose obstinate disregard of the peace with the Fúlbe proceeded to open rebellion.
Son of Mohammed el Kánemí.
A.H. 1251. A.D. 1835.
	This opportunity, when all the best troops were about to march to the distant west, was seized on by the numerous partisans of the old dynasty, to aim a mortal blow at the house of the sheikh by secretly inviting the King of Wádáy, Mohammed e’ Sheríf, to re-establish the Séfuwa on the throne of Bórnu. Mohammed listening to this invitation, collected his army, and in Mulúd or Rebí el awel, 1262, that is, in March 1846, reached Kúsuri. The sheikh never heard of his approach till he was very near. He at once summoned the sultan Ibrám from Birni, and, denouncing him as a traitor, placed him in irons; he then hastily collected what troops remained behind, having no one with him upon whom he could rely, except Tiráb his faithful minister (the intimate friend of his father), his brother the valorous ʿAlí, together with from five to six hundred Arabs and Tebu. With this little band, swelled by a crowd of faithless Shúwa, he encamped on the western bank of the river of Logón, not far from the town of Kúsuri, while Wádáy was encamped on the eastern bank of the Shárí. The inhabitants of Kúsuri locked the gates of their town against both armies, but secretly communicated with Wádáy; and when Mohammed e’ Sheríf was unable to force the passage of the river in the face of the enemy, who did great execution with two cannons, the Wádáy having none, they sent to him offering to lead part of his army round by a ford which was protected[667] only by Shúwa. This was the ford of Síña Fácha, at the headland a little below Kúsuri, where the Shárí and the river of Logón unite to form one stream, which joins the Tsád. When the corps sent by the people of Wádáy tried to cross the river here, the Shúwa, who had been ordered to defend the ford, gave way, and, thinking this a favourable opportunity to pilfer, joined the enemy, killing many of the sheikh’s people in the flank, till Kashélla Belál brought their chief to the ground. In the slaughter which ensued, Tiráb fell, and a great many of the Bórnu people. The valorous ʿAlí penetrated into the town of Kúsuri, but was delivered by the townspeople into the hands of the king of Wádáy; the rest took to flight, except the Tebu and Arabs, who maintained their position, so that Sheikh ʿOmár was able to say his prayers of the dhohor and the ʿaser before he left the battle-field. But the encampment fell into the hands of the enemy, as well as the two cannons. However, in crossing the river, the Wádáy army sustained severe losses. All this happened on Tuesday the 11th of Rebí el awel, or March 8. 1846. On Thursday, Sheikh ʿOmár put to death Ibrahím the titular sultan of Bórnu, whom he had laid in chains before going to battle. He then hastily left Kúkawa, and retreated into the western provinces; the host of Wádáy followed him as far as Ngórnu, where they encamped and remained about forty days, while their skirmishers plundered all the neighbouring places, and particularly Kúkawa, from whence they carried away a considerable booty, and then set fire to the town. Indeed the capital for about two months remained a desert.
	But this was not all. The King of Wádáy took ʿAlí, the son of the late Sultan Ibrám, and enthroned him in Birni as sultan of Bórnu, summoning all the partisans of the old dynasty to defend their new king. However, he soon found that he was not strong enough to carry his point, and hearing that ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, the sheikh’s brother, was approaching from the west with a numerous host, and being afraid[668] lest, if he stayed longer, his retreat might be cut off by the river, he sent Ibrahím Wádáy as a messenger of peace to the sheikh, declaring that he had not undertaken this expedition from any desire of conquest, but at the instigation of a great many of the noblest kokanáwa or grandees of Bórnu, whose letters he forwarded to the sheikh. He then, in the last days of April, or the first days of May, 1846, left Ngórnu, commencing his retreat to his far-distant residence, and leaving the recently-elevated sultan to his fate.
	But it appears that ʿAlí the son of Ibrám was a courageous young prince; for he thought himself strong enough to march against the sheikh, whom he encountered at Minárem, but was quickly vanquished and slain. Thus the last of the Séfuwa died an honourable death on the battlefield. It was now evident that the family of Mohammed el Kánemí, who had liberated the country from a warlike and successful enemy, was well established in the place of the ancient rulers, who had degenerated into mere puppets, and were totally unable to defend themselves and their subjects. A great slaughter of all the partisans of the old dynasty followed, and principally of the Sugúrti, who had risen as their especial upholders; and a little later, in order to efface as far as possible all recollection of those times, the destruction of New Birni was decided on, and fell to the lot of Háj Beshír, the son of Tiráb, who had succeeded his father as the first minister and most confidential servant of the sheikh. From this time, people say, dated the great wealth of the vizier. Meanwhile Sheikh ʿOmár went in person to castigate Serkí Ibrám, the governor of Zínder, who had risen in open revolt, and took and plundered the town, though he pardoned and reinstated the governor, while ʿAbd e’ Rahmán quelled the rebellion of the Manga, who, ever restless and inclined to insurrection, had thought this an excellent opportunity of asserting their independence. ʿOmár himself brought the then[669] large town of Surríkulo to obedience[228]; and the country soon became quieter than before. Scarcely any vestige of the old dynasty was left; even the records of it were purposely destroyed—a most unfortunate circumstance, which made it very difficult for me to obtain what little information I have been able to collect.
	The Kúka, built by Mohammed el Kánemí, having been destroyed by the people of Wádáy, ʿOmár and his vizier built two towns in its place, one the eastern town, “bílla gedíbe,” as the especial residence of the court, the other, the western town, “bílla futébe.” Thus Kúka has become Kúkawa.[229]
	Sheikh ʿOmár was now in a much more favourable position than his father, being sole and indisputable master of the country and really the king, though he disdained the title. He might have given it a new organization, ruling it with a strong and impartial hand; but while he is an upright and straightforward man, who certainly would like to see the country well administered, he lacks that far-sighted vigour which is necessary for ruling an extensive kingdom based on a loose state of things, with arbitrary power above and turbulent habits beneath. Indeed it is most deplorable that he has allowed the Tawárek, or rather Imóshagh, those inveterate enemies of well-governed communities, to persist in their desolating and predatory habits. In the time of his father there were Tebu settlements near all the wells on the Fezzán road as far as Beduwáram; all these have been deserted successively since the beginning of the reign of ʿOmár, the towns of Lárí and Wúdí have been ransacked by the Tawárek, and not a living soul left, and the whole of Kánem has become the desolate abode of a few unfortunate communities, and the wild hunting-ground of continual adventurous ghazzias from every[670] quarter; indeed, not only the considerable town of Bárruwa, one day’s march north of the komádugu, on the road to Kánem, but even other places in the middle of Bórnu, as will be seen in the course of my narrative, have to buy their peace by a sort of tribute to be paid to the Tawárek freebooters.
	But besides his own personal weakness, and inclination to ascetic piety, there was a dangerous cancer undermining the health of the new dynasty: this was the rivalry which soon arose between him and his brother ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, on account of the vizier el Háj Beshír, who enjoyed the whole confidence of the sheikh, and employed his authority too exclusively. The results of this unfortunate quarrel I will here report to their end, although they fall after the time of my arrival in Bórnu. I have already observed above, that on leaving Múrzuk we were informed that a quarrel was about to break out between ʿOmár and ʿAbd e’ Rahmán; but happily matters were then adjusted, and the rivalry did not proceed to a civil war before the winter of 1853, when ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, with his partisans, left Kúkawa and went to Gújebá. The sheikh and his vizier followed him, but being betrayed by many of the courtiers, who were badly disposed against the vizier, they were defeated in an irregular skirmish; and Háj Beshír, certainly with very little show of courage, was the first who turned his back, and collecting his most valuable treasures, started for Wádáy. Being detained by the Shúwa, who would not allow him to cross the Shárí, he was induced to return to Kúkawa, on safe-conduct being promised to him by ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, but having been found guilty of treason was strangled. ʿOmár meanwhile was allowed to reside as a private man in the house of his former vizier till, in the summer of 1854, ʿAbd e’ Rahmán ordered him to go to reside in Díkowa. He then collected the malcontents, and on the ʿAíd el kebír vanquished his brother in the open place between the two towns, and made[671] him prisoner, and in the first days of December killed him. Thus he is once more sole ruler of the country; but having lost his vizier, upon whose advice he was formerly wont to rely entirely, he has nobody to supply his want of energy. Time will show whether Bórnu is again to flourish under this dynasty, or whether it has to undergo another revolution. From the sequel of my narrative it will sufficiently appear that it is not in such a state as it ought to be; but it has the advantage that all over Negroland there is no warlike and energetic king at the present time.

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[673]VI.

FRAGMENTS OF A METEOROLOGICAL REGISTER.

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Date.	Hour of Day.	Degrees in scale of Fahrenheit.	Remarks.
1851.
Jan.
11	sunrise	53·6
	sunset	73·4
12	sunrise	48·2
13	sunset	71·6
14	sunrise	57·2
	sunset	73·4
15	sunrise	57·2
	sunset	71·6
17	sunset	73·4
18	sunrise	59
19	No observation.
20	sunrise	50
	sunset	71·6
21	sunrise	44·6
22 to 26	No observation.
27	sunrise	66·2
	sunset	77
28	sunrise	59	Cold wind in the afternoon.
29	sunrise	66
30	No observation.
31	sunset	69·8
Feb.	No observation.
March
First half	No observation.
2			Sky cloudy (Kanó).
3
18	sunrise	64·4
	1.0 p.m.	109
19	No observation.
20	sunrise	70·3
21	No observation.
22	sunrise	68	Thick fog in the morning, the sun not coming forth till past noon.
	noon	91·4
23			Morning foggy.
24	noon	95	Morning clear, northerly wind arose.
25	No observation.
26	noon	100·4
27	noon	98·6
28	No observation.		Sky turbid and dull, easterly wind.
29	noon	98·6
April
1	noon	96·8	Same sky, overcast with thick clouds; wind, as in general, easterly.
10	sunrise	69·8	(Kúkawa.)
14	sunrise	78·8	Sky a little overcast.
	noon	105·8
	sunset	93·2
15	sunrise	77
	1 p.m.	100
16	sunrise	69·8
	noon	104·
17	sunrise	69·8
	noon	98·6
	sunset	91·4
18	sunrise	68
	noon	100·4
	sunset	87·8
19	sunrise	74
	sunset	89·6
[674]20	No observation.
21	sunrise	73·4
	noon	95
	sunset	87·8
22	sunrise	71·6
	noon	96·8
	sunset	98·6
23	sunrise	68
	noon	96·8
24 to 28	No observation.
29	sunset	89·6
30	sunrise	69·8
	noon	99
	sunset	89·6
May
1	sunrise	70·3
	noon	100·4
2	1 p.m.	104
3	sunrise	74
	1 p.m.	104
	sunset	91·4
4	sunrise	73·4
	1 p.m.	105·8
	sunset	95
5	sunrise	84·2	Sky dull and cloudy, gradually becoming more overcast.
	1 p.m.	105·8	Three o’clock p.m. a few claps of thunder without lightning, and with only a little rain.
	sunset	86
6	sunrise	80·6
	noon	105·8
	sunset	91·4
7	sunrise	76
8	sunrise	95
	noon	106·2
9	noon	107·6
10	noon	106·7
	sunset	86
11	sunrise	78
	noon	106·7
12	sunrise	80·6	Very strong wind; in the afternoon a thunder-storm, with some rain at four o’clock p.m.
	noon	105·8
	sunset	77
13	sunrise	80·6
	noon	100·4
	sunset	90·5	In the evening thick clouds.
14	sunrise	80·6
	noon	104
	sunset	100·4
15	sunrise	77
	noon	105
	sunset	86
16	sunrise	79·7	Atmosphere very oppressive.
	noon	104
	sunset	95
17	sunrise	81·5	Heavy gale from N.W. in the forenoon.
	noon	104
	sunset	92·3
18	sunrise	82·4
	noon	105·8
19	sunrise	78·8
	noon	104
	sunset	93·2
20	sunrise	78
	noon	107·6
	sunset	92·3
21	sunrise	77
	noon	104
	1.30 p.m.	107·6
	sunset	96·8
22	sunrise	77
	noon	104
	sunset	95	Lightning in the evening.
23	sunrise	77
	noon	104	At three o’clock p.m. a tornado and a little rain.
	[675]sunset	90·5
24	sunrise	77
	noon	98·6
	sunset	97·7
25	sunrise	79·7
	noon	96·8
26	noon	97·7	Sky thickly overcast; a few drops of rain.
	sunset	93·2
27	sunrise	78·8
	noon	104
	sunset	93·2	In the evening lightning.
28	sunrise	84·2	Sky not clear.
29	No observation.
30	noon	99·5
	sunset	87·8
31	sunrise	75·2
	noon	99·5	In the afternoon the sky became thickly overcast, and a little rain fell.
	sunset	90·5
June
1	sunrise	78·8	In the evening a thunder-storm, towards the south and the north, came down upon us, accompanied with heavy rain.
	noon	98·6
	sunset	99·5
2	sunrise	79·7
	noon	98·6	Tornado near us.
3	sunrise	74·3
	noon	104·9
4	sunrise	74·3
	noon	98·6
5	sunrise	75·2	Weather extremely sultry; at 2 p.m. a heavy thunder-storm, with much rain.
	2 p.m.	111·2
	sunset	101·3
6	sunrise	73·4
	noon	93·2	At 10 p.m. frightful tempest, with much rain.
7	No observation.		In the evening thunder-storm in the distance.
8	sunrise	73·4
9	sunrise	75·2	At four o’clock in the afternoon a tornado, with a short but heavy shower. In the night another storm, but no rain near us.
	sunset	82·4
10	sunrise	71·6	In the afternoon a storm, with but little rain.
11			Sky cloudy.
12	2 p.m.	82·4	Atmosphere humid and rainy, felt quite chilly, sun did not come forth till after noon.
13	sunrise	69·5
	noon	89·6	In the afternoon thunder-storm towards the south.
	sunset	75·1
14	sunrise	79·7
	noon	91·4	About 2 p.m. a tornado, with a little rain later in the afternoon.
	sunset	77·0
15	noon	95·1	8 p.m. a tornado, but not much rain.
	sunset	77
16	sunrise	77
	noon	90·5
	sunset	80·6	During the night tornado with rain.
17	sunrise	75·2	Fine clear morning.
	noon	91·4	7 p.m. heavy thunder-storm.
[676]18	sunset	86
19	sunrise	78·8
	noon	87·8
20			In the evening a tornado with heavy rain.
21	sunrise	70·7	(Yóla.)
	2 p.m.	65·3	1 o’clock p.m. a storm broke forth with great violence, in consequence of which it became quite cool.
	sunset	67
22	No observation.		In the morning, sun lurid and atmosphere moist, afterwards very hot.
23	sunrise	71·6
24	No observation.
25
26	sunrise	76	In the evening a heavy tornado, accompanied with rain, lasting from 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. 27th.
June 27 to July 7	No observation.
8	noon	77	Rain in the evening and during the night.
9	1 p.m.	80·6	Sky thickly overcast.
10	5.30 a.m.		Heavy rain lasting till 7½ a.m.
11	1.30 p.m.	82·4
	sunrise	79·7
12			In the afternoon heavy thunder-storm with rain.
13	No observation.
14	sunrise	77	Sky cloudy; 7 p.m. storm accompanied by very heavy rain, lasting till midnight.
15			Sky cloudy in the morning; sun came forth at 8 a.m.; a little rain the following night.
16			Sky thickly overcast; storm in the night.
17			A little before sunset a storm, accompanied by heavy rain.
18			Weather clear.
19			Soon after sunrise a storm broke forth accompanied by rain, lasting till noon.
20 to	No observation.
23		93·2
24	noon		(Kúkawa.)

END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

London:
Printed by Spottiswoode & Co.
New-street Square.

	VOL. 1	VOL. 2	VOL. 3	VOL. 4	VOL. 5
	ToC	ToC	ToC	ToC	ToC
	Illus.	Illus.	Illus.	Illus.	Illus.
CHAP.	1	22	38	53	70
	2	23	39	54	71
	3	24	40	55	72
	4	25	41	56	73
	5	26	42	57	74
	6	27	43	58	75
	7	28	44	59	76
	8	29	45	60	77
	9	30	46	61	78
	10	31	47	62	79
	11	32	48	63	80
	12	33	49	64	81
	13	34	50	65	82
	14	35	51	66	83
	15	36	52	67	84
	16	37		68	85
	17			69
	18
	19
	20
	21
APP.	1	1	1	1	1
	2	2	2	2	2
	3	3	3	3	3
	4	4	4	4	4
	5	5	5	5	5
	6	6	6	6	6
	7		7	7	7
			8	8	8
			9	9
			10	10
					IND.