ADVERTISEMENT.

Among the geographical problems which, during the last half century, have occupied the attention of the scientific world and awakened a spirit of adventure in enterprizing individuals, has been the existence of a large and populous city in the heart of Central Africa. The solution of this problem appeared to be a subject worthy of the solicitude even of Societies and Governments; and various expeditions have been dispatched at their expense to explore the unknown interior of that continent, with a particular view to the settlement of this long agitated question. In vain, however, have Houghton, Browne, Hornemann, and Park—in vain have their successors, our countrymen, Tuckey, Peddie, Campbell, Gray, Ritchie, Bowdich, Oudney, Clapperton, Denham and Laing—in vain have other European travellers, Burckhardt, Beaufort, Mollien, Belzoni, started from different points of the coast of Africa, animated with the hope of removing the veil which enveloped the mysterious city:—all have either perished or been baffled in the attempt. Of this number Major Laing alone reached the desired goal; but the results of his perseverance and his observations were lost to his country and to the world through the barbarous murder of that officer, and the consequent dispersion of his papers and effects.

Our neighbours, the French, have therefore just ground for exultation in the fact, that what British enterprize, seconded by the liberality of the British government, failed to accomplish, has been achieved by a very humble individual of their nation, and by means of his own slender unassisted resources; and they have certainly a right to boast that M. Caillié, the author of the work here presented to the public, is the first European who has succeeded in the attempt to penetrate to Timbuctoo, and returned, in spite of the perils interposed by the climate and by the still more destructive passions of men, to communicate all the information that circumstances enabled him to collect.

Of the importance of this information the adjudication of a premium of 10,000 francs (upwards of £400 sterling) by the Geographical Society of Paris to the traveller, affords presumptive evidence. When it is considered that, pursuing his course eastward from the French colony on the Senegal, he advanced by way of Kakondy, Kankan, and Timbo, to the distance of two hundred miles beyond Soulimana; that he then proceeded northward through more than one hundred villages to Jenné; that, there embarking on the great river Dhioliba (the Joliba of Mungo Park) he enjoyed the best opportunities for observing its course, its islands, and the extensive lake of Debo, which has afforded matter for so much discussion, during a voyage of nearly a month to Timbuctoo; that he has furnished positive information of high political and commercial interest respecting that city; and that he has proved the practicability of reaching it from the coast of the Mediterranean by traversing the great Desert which girdles Africa, and through which he returned to the territories of Morocco:—when all this is considered, it must be admitted that his merits have not by any means been overrated.

In this country also, which has long taken the lead in the encouragement of geographical discovery, it is fair to presume that the work in which M. Caillié has recorded, in language of unaffected simplicity, the observations made in a journey of 4500 miles, (of which 3000 were through regions either absolutely, or nearly unknown), cannot but possess powerful attractions for every class of readers, whether pursuing the career of trade, of science, or of politics, whether in quest of individual advantage or personal information.

CONTENTS
OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

INTRODUCTION.

Having cherished from my earliest infancy a strong desire to become a traveller, I have always seized with avidity any occasion that could facilitate the means of acquiring knowledge; but, notwithstanding all my efforts to supply the want of a good education, I have not been able to procure more than a scanty store of information. My thorough conviction of the inadequacy of my means frequently grieved me, when thinking of all that I needed for the performance of the task which I had imposed on myself; but still, while reflecting on the dangers and difficulties of such an enterprise, I hoped that the notes and observations which I should bring back from my travels would be received with interest by the public. I did not, therefore, relinquish for a moment the hope of exploring some unknown portion of Africa; and in the sequel the city of Timbuctoo became the continual object of all my thoughts, the aim of all my efforts, and I formed a resolution to reach it or perish. Now that I have had the happiness to accomplish this design, the public will perhaps grant some indulgence to the narrative of an unpresuming traveller, who relates simply what he has seen, the events which have befallen him, and the facts which he has witnessed.

I was born in 1800, at Mauzé, in the department of the Deux-Sèvres; my parents who were poor, I had the misfortune to lose in my childhood. I received no other education than what the charity-school of my village afforded; and as soon as I could read and write, I was put to learn a trade, to which I soon took a dislike, owing to the reading of voyages and travels, which occupied all my leisure moments. The History of Robinson Crusoe, in particular, inflamed my young imagination: I was impatient to encounter adventures like him; nay, I already felt an ambition to signalize myself by some important discovery springing up in my heart.

Geographical books and maps were lent to me: the map of Africa, in which I saw scarcely any but countries marked as desert or unknown, excited my attention more than any other. In short, this predilection grew into a passion for which I renounced every thing: I ceased to join in the sports and amusements of my comrades; I shut myself up on sundays to read all the books of travels that I was able to procure. I talked to my uncle, who was my guardian, of my desire to travel: he disapproved it, forcibly representing the dangers which I should incur at sea, and the regret which I should feel far away from my country and my family—in short, he neglected nothing to divert me from my project. My resolution, however, was irrevocable; I still insisted on setting out, and he made no further opposition.

All that I possessed was sixty francs, and with this trifle I proceeded to Rochefort in 1816, and embarked in the brig La Loire, bound to Senegal.

This vessel, as it is well known, sailed in company with La Méduse, on board which was M. Mollien, with whom I was not then acquainted, and who has since made such interesting discoveries in the interior of Africa. Our brig, having luckily parted company with La Méduse, arrived without accident in the road of St. Louis. From that place I proceed to Dakar, a village in the peninsula of Cape Verd, whither the unfortunate persons saved from the wreck of La Méduse were conveyed by La Loire. After a stay of some months at this dreary spot, when the English had restored the colony to the French, I set out for St. Louis.

At the moment of my arrival, the English government was preparing an expedition, under the direction of Major Peddie, for exploring the interior of Africa: when ready, it proceeded to Kakondy, a village situated on the Rio Nuñez. The major died on his arrival there. Captain Campbell, who assumed the command of the expedition, set out with his numerous caravan to cross the high mountains of Fouta-Diallon: in a few days he lost part of his beasts of burden and several men; he nevertheless determined to pursue his journey, but no sooner had he entered the territories of the almamy[1] of Fouta-Diallon than the expedition was detained by order of that sovereign. It was obliged to pay a heavy contribution to the almamy for permission to return by the way it had come, to recross rivers which it had passed with great difficulty, and to endure such persecutions that, to put an end to them and to render his march less embarrassing, the commander caused the dry goods to be burned, the muskets to be broken, and the gunpowder to be thrown into the river. On this disastrous return Captain Campbell and several of his officers ended their lives at the same place where Major Peddie died: they were interred at the same spot with him, at the foot of an orange tree, at the factory of Mr. Bethmann, an English merchant.

The rest of the troops of Captain Campbell’s expedition sailed for Sierra Leone.

Some time afterwards, a new expedition was formed, and the command of it given to Major Gray. The English spared neither trouble nor expense to render it still more imposing and more numerous than the first. To avoid the terrible almamy of Timbo, the travellers proceeded by water to the Gambia and sailed up the river. As soon as the expedition had landed, it traversed Oulli and Gabou, and at length arrived in Bondou; but the inhabitants of Bondou are like those of Fouta-Diallon, equally fanatic, and equally malevolent, and their king showed not less ill will towards the English. Upon pretext of some old debt or other contracted by the English government, he demanded such a quantity of goods that Major Gray was soon entirely stripped, and obliged, as will be seen hereafter, to send an officer to the Senegal to procure more, in the hope of obtaining a passage by means of them.

I was ignorant of these unpleasant circumstances when I heard of the English expedition; and not doubting that Major Gray, standing in need of hands, would eagerly accept the offer of my services, though I was a stranger to him, I determined to proceed by land to the Gambia. I set out from St. Louis, accompanied by two negroes who returned to Dakar, and took the road leading from Gandiolle to the peninsula of Cape Verd. We travelled on foot: I was then very young, and my companions were two vigorous walkers, so that I was obliged to run in order to keep up with them. I cannot express the fatigue I felt, under the oppressive heat, journeying over a burning and almost moving sand. If I could but have obtained a little fresh water to allay the thirst which consumed me!—none was to be found but at some distance from the sea; and we were obliged to keep near the beach, that we might have a more solid footing. My legs were covered with blisters, and I thought that I should have been knocked up before we reached Dakar: at length, however, we arrived at that village, where I made no stay, but immediately took a passage in a boat which conveyed me to Goree.

The torments which I had already endured led me to reflect on the still greater hardships to which I was about to expose myself: the persons who felt a friendship for me, and M. Gavol in particular, had not therefore much trouble to divert me from my design; and, to gratify in some measure my fondness for travel, that worthy officer procured me a gratuitous passage on board a merchantman which was sailing for Guadeloupe.

I arrived in that colony with some letters of recommendation, and obtained a petty appointment, which I held but for six months. My passion for travelling began to revive; the perusal of Mungo Park gave new strength to my projects; and lastly, my constitution, having withstood a residence of some length at the Senegal and in Guadeloupe, gave me hopes of this time executing them with success.

I sailed from Pointe-à-Pitre for Bordeaux, and thence returned to the Senegal. Arriving at St. Louis, at the conclusion of 1818, with scanty resources, for I had exceedingly diminished them by useless voyages, I was not to be deterred by any consideration: every thing seemed possible to my adventurous spirit, and chance seemed to second my designs.

M. Adrien Partarrieu, who had been sent by Major Gray to purchase at St. Louis the goods required by the King of Bondou, was preparing to rejoin the expedition. I called upon M. Partarrieu, and proposed to accompany him without salary or engagement of any kind for the moment. He replied that he could not promise me any thing for the future, but that I was at liberty to join him if I pleased. I had soon decided—happy to seize so favourable an opportunity of visiting unknown countries and participating in an expedition of discovery.

M. Partarrieu’s caravan was composed of sixty or seventy men both white and black, and thirty-two camels richly laden.

We set out, on the sixth of February, 1819, from Gandiolle, a village in the kingdom of Cayor, situated at a short distance from the Senegal. The damel, or king, whom our presents had rendered favourable to us, issued orders that we should be well treated; we met every where with an hospitable reception, and in several places the people carried their generosity so far as to subsist our whole company without accepting any remuneration. On reaching the frontiers of Cayor, we came to a desert which separates it from the country of the Yolofs. It is well known that formerly these two countries belonged to the same sovereign, who governed them with the title of boor, or emperor, and that the damel is only an independent vassal: we experienced the same kind reception from the subjects of the boor of Yolof.

It was not long before we had to regret the generous hospitality of the Yolofs. On quitting their country we entered a desert, where, for five days’ journey, we were exposed to a thousand hardships. I hope to be forgiven for entering into these details, the only ones which could have fixed themselves in the memory of a mere youth, travelling rather in quest of adventures than for the purpose of making observations.

Our camels were so laden with goods, that we had been able to take with us but a very small quantity of water: it was soon found necessary to deal out but a very small portion to each person: mine was not more abundant. How could I complain—I, a useless consumer, attached to the expedition through the mere condescension of the leader! I had no right to find fault, but I suffered extremely from thirst. I was sometimes reduced to extremity; for, having no beast to ride upon, I was obliged to follow on foot. I have been since told that my eyes were hollow, that I panted for breath, and that my tongue hung out of my mouth: for my own part, I recollect that at every halt, I fell to the ground from weakness, and had not even the courage to eat. At length my sufferings excited the pity of all; and M. Partarrieu had the kindness to divide with me his portion of water as well as a fruit which he had found. This fruit resembles the potatoe; its pulp is white and of an agreeable flavour: we subsequently found many such, which were of great service to us.

A sailor, having in vain tried all means to allay his thirst, and set about seeking fruits, was deceived by the resemblance borne by one to that which M. Partarrieu had given to me. He ate it, and it set his mouth on fire as if it had been pimento: from the retching and the violent pains with which he was seized we concluded that he was poisoned; every one cheerfully gave up to him some of his allowance of drink; but he appeared to be relieved so suddenly that I have since thought his illness was only a feint to excite pity and get a little more water. I was not, however the worst off, for I saw several drink their urine.

We arrived at length at Boulibaba, a village inhabited by pastoral Foulahs, who live during part of the year in the woods and subsist entirely upon milk seasoned with the fruit of the baobab. To us Boulibaba was a paradise; we there found limpid and abundant springs: the water which we eagerly drank seemed to us excellent, but we had to pay a high price for it, the Foulahs to whom it belonged being poor and very selfish. We encamped near the village, the straw houses of which are in the form of a sugar-loaf truncated at top: the door is so low that, in order to enter, the inhabitants are obliged to crawl on all fours.

No sooner was our arrival known than the whole village sallied forth to look at us: a Foulah came to the foot of the tree where I was resting and asked me in the Wolof, which I understood, for a grigri[2] to confer riches. I wrote one for him, and out of gratitude he gave me a bowl of milk. I was nevertheless his dupe, for scarcely was he gone when I perceived that he had stolen my black silk cravat.

On quitting Boulibaba we had another desert without water to traverse: before we entered it, we thought it advisable to recruit ourselves from the fatigues which we had undergone and to sojourn some days with the Foulah herdsmen. A stock of water was procured: guides were hired, and we set out.

After we had made half a day’s journey we arrived at Paillar, where we laid in a fresh store of water. It would not have been prudent to traverse Fouta-Toro, the inhabitants of which are thieves and fanatics: we avoided it by turning a little to the south. The precautions which we had taken to obviate the want of water cheered our minds. The country in general appeared to us to be fine: we beheld with admiration trees of great height, with umbrageous foliage, covered with birds of various kinds, which by their song enlivened these solitudes. It was no doubt the agreeable sensations produced by this scenery that caused us partly to forget our fatigues, though we travelled from sunrise till near ten o’clock at night, taking but a few moments’ rest during the day. On the fifth day, however, we were all exhausted: we suffered from thirst, and our water was nearly spent. European ingenuity came to our succour: peppermint-drops were distributed among us, and we experienced immediate relief. Our camels suffered severely for want of water and forage, having no other food than young branches of trees, cut off here and there.

At length we reached a hamlet where the negroes readily brought us some calebashes of water, but they were not prodigal of it, and this was prudent, considering the number of men and animals to be supplied: for my part, I received no more than about a large glassful. But no sooner did we begin to drink than swarms of bees settled upon the vessels containing the water, and even upon our lips, disputing it with us; and to this horrid punishment, these grievous pangs, we had been several times exposed during the journey. I have frequently seen the water-skins covered with bees, which we had no means of driving away but by burning green wood, the smoke of which forced them to quit.

At length we entered Bondou. M. Partarrieu, who was extremely afraid of falling in with the almamy, wished to avoid Boulibaneh, his usual residence, and to reach Bakel speedily and by the direct route; but the inhabitants of Potako, the second village we came to, manifested a disposition to oppose this design. It was therefore necessary to encamp for the purpose of holding a palaver.[3] This palaver still continued; we were near wells, but were not supplied either with water or provisions; no millet was brought, and a war of famine was commenced. This system of attack upon us was the worst and the most dangerous of all: it behoved us to meet it with firmness and resolution. M. Partarrieu, who was not deficient in these qualities, was preparing to pursue his route directly towards Bakel, and we were on the point of starting, when Major Gray, the commander of the expedition, who came to meet us, appeared on horseback, and directed us to go to Boulibaneh, under the idea that the almamy would keep his word, and that, after he had received our goods he would suffer us to pass. Major Gray was rather credulous. For the rest, the inhabitants, as soon as they saw us change our route, readily permitted us to draw water and brought us abundance of provisions of all kinds. Peace being concluded and both parties on good terms, traffic commenced.

The day after the arrival of Major Gray we received orders to set out and to take the road to Boulibaneh: we could do no other than obey; but, that the inhabitants of that capital might not remark the great quantity of goods which we brought with us, we entered the place at night. I was in the rear-guard, with some English soldiers mounted on asses: these poor fellows were exhausted with fatigue: never had they made so arduous a campaign; they proposed to stay behind: I prevented them from so doing and we at length rejoined, though rather late, the head of the caravan, which we found asleep in the camp that it had formed outside the town. This camp was nothing more than a cluster of straw huts, surrounded by a palisade four feet high, formed of trunks of trees interlaced with branches.

Our people had neglected to inclose the wells within the palisade of the camp—an unpardonable oversight, which in the sequel exposed us to the most severe privation. The chiefs of the expedition proceeded on their arrival to pay their respects to the old almamy, carrying with them valuable presents to dispose him in our favour.

This was not all: they were obliged to make him fresh presents every day, for the greedy almamy was incessantly craving. Curious to see this sovereign, I repaired to his residence: I penetrated thither without impediment, and found the king of Bondou seated on a mat spread upon the ground, watching a negro mason belonging to our expedition, for whom he had applied, that he might build him a stone powder-room destined to contain the ammunition with which we had presented him.

The almamy of Bondou, a man of about seventy, had quite white hair, a long beard, and a face deeply wrinkled. He was dressed in two pagnes[4] of the country and covered with amulets down to the ancles. He eyed me with a look of indifference and seemed to pay much more attention to the work of the mason than to my presence, which afforded me leisure to examine without giving him offence.

Having staid some days at Boulibaneh, during which we were on the best terms with the inhabitants, Major Gray made arrangements for quitting this royal residence. But before his departure he deemed it right to make the almamy a farewell present: it consisted of a piece of Guinea cloth,[5] and a few trifling articles. Whether the prince was dissatisfied with it, or apprehensive that the English were going to join the French for the purpose of attacking his dominions, or had vowed not to allow us to pass, he declared with feigned regret that he could not permit us to proceed to Bakel; that he would suffer us to go to Clego, but we must traverse his territories and those of Kaarta: otherwise there was no alternative for us but to take the road of Fouta-Toro, to reach the Senegal. These two routes were equally arduous and dangerous for us, since we were sure to find in both those countries people as fanatic and as barbarous as the inhabitants of Bondou. It was evidently the almamy’s design to cause us to be plundered and perhaps murdered. Our situation became alarming. A council was held, and the indignation excited by the almamy’s conduct caused the adoption of the violent measure of opening by force a passage to Bakel. The animals were immediately laden, and preparations made for breaking up: but no sooner was our intention known than the king’s soldiers, fifty in number, armed with lances and muskets, came and possessed themselves of the wells and surrounded our camp. We had but little water, through the imprudence which I have mentioned above; and notwithstanding the economical manner in which we employed it, we were on the point of being totally cut off from it. In Africa it is easier to reduce a place by thirst than by famine.

This was not the only danger that threatened us; the war-drums were already heard on all sides. At the sound of this tocsin of alarm, crowds of armed men hastened to obey the summons of their chiefs; and a tremendous uproar every where prevailed. In less than two hours a numerous army was on foot, ready to rush upon us: resistance became impossible, since we were no more than one hundred and thirty persons. Notwithstanding the ardour and the despair which animated all of us, we could not hope to withstand so many foes united. It was useless therefore, to think of fighting, and all that could now be done was to endeavour by new negociations to avert the calamities which threatened us: such were the sentiments of the chief officers of the expedition; they conceived that a battle could not fail to have a most disastrous issue; and that, independently of the loss of men and the pillage of goods, it would thenceforward render the whites objects of horror and execration in the interior of Africa. These prudent reflexions induced our chief to demand a palaver, which was granted by our enemies, but with the superiority and haughtiness of men sure of victory.

The almamy rejected all the propositions that were made to him, and arrogantly dictated the conditions of peace: all that could be wrung from him by dint of solicitations and presents was permission to keep as near the Senegal as possible, that we might not be in want of water: but he was inflexible in regard to the route which we were to pursue; Fouta-Toro, or no water, was his definitive answer. We submitted thankfully to every thing, and, when once assured of our obedience, he made a sign to the soldiers who guarded the wells to retire, and we could then drink with security. The anxiety in which we were during this parley, added to the heat, caused us to consider this permission of the almamy’s as a kindness, especially for our animals, which had been on their legs with their loads ever since day-break, without eating or drinking.

Our departure for Fouta-Toro was deferred till the following day. Our caravan resembled a long file of prisoners: a multitude of horsemen hovered upon our wings, to prevent our straggling. The almamy was more vigilant on this point than any other; the traitor, to make the more sure that this valuable booty would not escape his allies of Fouta-Toro, followed us to our first halting-place, and did not leave us till he had received a fresh present; but, on retiring, he committed the duty of superintending our march to several princes of his family, who accompanied us with a numerous escort of soldiers, horse and foot. Night having come on, a large fire was lighted, and, that we might no longer be embarrassed by the baggage which retarded our progress, orders were issued that every one should throw into it all he possessed, excepting such articles of clothing as were absolutely necessary. This useful sacrifice was made before the faces of the Foulahs, who in vain entreated us to desist. In our just indignation against them we would rather have suffered death than have allowed them to save so much as a handkerchief from the flames.

At day-break the next morning we entered Fouta-Toro preceded by a very bad reputation. The people of Bondou had so effectually recommended us to their neighbours, that wherever we went we met with only hostile looks and inimical dispositions; neither were we any where suffered to supply ourselves with water till the price of it had been fixed: the reader will perhaps scarcely believe that frequently it cost us six francs per bottle. If we ever deviated from the track prescribed by our convention with the almamy of Bondou, the natives immediately secured all the wells, and we were obliged to return to the route agreed upon lest we should perish with thirst. At another time, on the contrary, the people of a village would have forced us to quit the road we were pursuing for another which would have taken us to a distance from the Senegal. I know not how we should have been able to withstand this fresh violence, since we were to have been allowed access to the wells only upon the dreadful condition of pursuing this latter route; as we were all reduced to extremity and our strength exhausted, two wretched blunderbusses would not have sufficed for laying siege to the wells. Fortunately, M. Partarrieu found means to gain a chief, who procured us two skinfuls of water; they cost us nearly ten francs a bottle; but having allayed our thirst we somewhat recovered our spirits and pursued our journey.

Having got out of this dilemma, we proceeded to another village, situated at a little distance from the Senegal, intending to take the first opportunity of approaching the river. Here we halted to hold council: it was resolved that we should rest there, and break up secretly in the middle of the night for the purpose of gaining the bank of the river. This resolution of M. Partarrieu’s was opposed by Major Gray; he objected that we might be attacked by the way, and that, after having broken the convention we should be treated as deserters, and surely murdered; adding, that he had better take with him one attendant and make the best of his way to the French factory at Bakel, to solicit succour. In vain did M. Partarrieu strive to convince him of the imprudence of such a plan and the danger in which we should be left by his absence, “When the Foulahs,” he added, “shall know that our chief is no longer with us, they will consider us as a body without head and not hesitate to attack us.” All was to no purpose; the major would not listen to any remonstrance, and departed. In the morning, the Foulahs discovered his absence; they came in crowds, accusing us of treachery, and using terrible menaces; they were even preparing to fire, when M. Partarrieu conceived the happy idea of telling them that he had quarrelled with Major Gray, and that he would rather die than suffer him to come back to us. This tale was believed; the Foulahs were appeased and permitted us to go to a village situated near the river.

Major Gray accordingly repaired to Bakel, where he obtained a few blacks, with whom he set out to rejoin us; but, like ourselves he did wrong in coming off without water; having been unable to procure any by the way, he dispersed his men to seek for some. They not only found none, but lost themselves in the woods, where they fell in with the Foulahs, who, apprized of their departure, had gone in force to oppose their junction with us, and easily made them prisoners. In this affair a few shots were fired: several French negroes were dangerously wounded, and one of them had his thigh broken: Donzon subsequently performed amputation at Bakel.

The news of this disaster soon reached us; without loss of time M. Partarrieu repaired to the village where Major Gray was detained; entreaties, presents, threats, nothing could prevail upon the Foulahs to release him; and the joy we felt on being allowed to proceed at not too great distance from the river was embittered by grief at seeing the major conducted on horseback, under a strong escort, by a contrary route to ours. The Foulahs took him away solely with a view to induce us to turn back and follow him; but, conceiving that this proof of our attachment to the major would only have involved us in destruction, we took good care not to run into the snare which was laid for us, as, by so doing, we should in all probability have merely increased to no purpose the number of victims to an imprudence, which no solicitations could dissuade the major from committing.

We continued our route, still proceeding northward. After suffering at several places a repetition of the same torments, we reached Adgar, a village only a day’s journey and a half distant from Bakel. Here M. Partarrieu halted and encamped close to the place, as if he intended to make a long stay there: he then visited the chief, and talked to him of sending off his sick to Bakel, that he might afterwards proceed with more ease to Fouta-Toro; but, perceiving that this plan displeased the village chief, he had recourse to a stratagem to gain his consent: he told him that, not having animals enough to carry all his baggage, he should leave part of his goods with him. The chief, perceiving in this proposition the means of subsequently possessing himself of a valuable booty, assented to every thing. M. Partarrieu immediately directed part of the chests with which the camels were usually laden to be filled with stones, and having locked these chests, he had them carried to the chief of the village; he then put aside the chests containing our goods. The camels, it is well known, are accustomed to cry when they are loaded; to obviate the danger in which this cry, the signal for our departure, might have involved us, we took care to make our camels utter this cry for several successive nights, that the inhabitants of the village might not know the moment of our flight.

All the arrangements being made, a very dark night was chosen, and as soon as we judged that every body was asleep, we started, leaving tents, huts, and palisades, standing, without extinguishing the fires which we had kindled, without even removing the pots which had been set on them for our supper, that the discovery of our departure by the inhabitants might be delayed as long as possible. The justice of this calculation of a prudent foresight was speedily demonstrated.

Part of the caravan pushed on before by a route which it opened for itself. I remained with the rear-guard, under the direction of M. Partarrieu and an English serjeant who had the superintendence of the baggage: this division set out an hour later than the other.

Such was our fear of being discovered, and so sensible were we of the imminence of our danger, that our march was more like a rout than a retreat. Forsaken chests and bales were to be seen every where; nay the very animals, as if aware of the peril and anxious to avoid it, were more untractable than ever, and scampered away across the country after throwing off their loads. It was more than two hours before we came up with our first division. Gracious Heaven! what anxiety we felt during those two painful hours! scarcely durst we ask what had become of our companions, scarcely durst we think of them; we fancied that they were taken, and had every reason to apprehend the like fate ourselves. A horn was blown from time to time: this signal of distress, amid the silence of night and the horror of the desert, had something doleful which made us shudder. Could we but have heard some answer to it! but no, not the faintest sound, not even the shriek of a night-bird enlivened the woods which we traversed in the utmost haste. Presently we perceived nothing but ambuscades on all sides; every bush, every tree, assumed to our agitated minds the form of armed enemies; every branch was mistaken for a levelled musket. At length we had recourse to a final expedient to convey to a distance an intimation of our approach. A gun was fired: echo by repeating the report several times, increased our consternation without imparting a hope that we were heard. I then compared our situation with that of the victims on the raft of La Méduse, cast upon the bank of Arquin, without hope of relief. Excessive fear gave us the courage of despair, and we made such a noise with our horns that the first division at length heard it and answered us. With what joy did we accelerate our pace to come up with it! at last we joined it just as day began to dawn. We hastily deliberated on the course to be pursued. On all sides we were surrounded with dangers; but, at any rate, the farther we proceeded from the village which we had left the preceding night, the nearer we should approach to the Senegal. This plan was unanimously adopted; and to carry it into effect with the greater chance of success, we abandoned baggage, animals, goods of all sorts; such was the panic that had seized every mind.

Day-light appeared, and enabled us to discover a village close to us; but fortunately its inhabitants had not yet risen, and we were not perceived. We soon came to a stony road which indicated the vicinity of the river; the hope of procuring water rendered our thirst more tormenting, and agitated our minds to such a degree that we kept advancing without knowing where we were: and we might have continued thus but for a negro whom we met and forced to conduct us to the river: he first led us past a field, where several negroes, who were at work, fled at sight of us towards their village. At length, at ten o’clock in the morning, we arrived at a hamlet situated on the left bank of the Senegal, at a little distance from Bakel. Without halting there, we lost no time in availing ourselves of a ford a short way off to cross the river. Though the water was then low, yet in some places it was up to our chins, so that every man was obliged to carry his things upon his head for fear of wetting them.

We were now on the right bank of the river, and it was high time we were, for some of our number were still crossing when multitudes of Foulahs appeared on the other side armed with pikes and arrows. It had been all over with us had we fallen in with them in the woods, for they were the neighbours to our camp, enraged at having been deceived by our stratagem. They durst not cross the river; but reckoning upon our simplicity, they made signs to M. Partarrieu to come to them and explain himself. The latter replied, that if they would call upon him at Bakel he would hear what they had to say. This invitation was not acceptable to them; accordingly they never came, but returned immediately to their village.

After crossing the river we were still a day’s journey from Bakel: and though it would have been more prudent to push on to that place at once, we were all so overwhelmed with fatigue that we were obliged to encamp by the way before night. We went to sleep in the most complete security, under the idea that the sentinels would keep good watch; but these sentinels having undergone the same fatigues as ourselves fell asleep too. No accident, however, befel us, and early next morning we arrived at Bakel.

The reader may conceive our joy on entering that fort, especially when we observed the generous zeal with which Messrs. Dupont and Dusseault, who commanded there, hastened to relieve us. We were treated with the kindest attention and supplied with refreshments of all sorts; and our joy was at its height, when we saw Major Gray return, the negroes having released him as soon as they ascertained that he could not serve them for an hostage to bring us back to them: nay more, their envoys, more tractable under the cannon of the fort of Bakel, restored to us part of the things which we had abandoned on our flight, and which they had picked up.

The rainy season, upon which we were entering, shed its baleful influence over me as well as the others. I had the fever, which soon assumed so alarming a character that I quitted the expedition and embarked on the Senegal to descend to St. Louis. I hoped, by the aid of medicine and the effects of a more salubrious climate, to recover my health in that town; but my disorder was so violent, that my convalescence was long and difficult. To complete my recovery, I saw no other way but to return to France, and I sailed for L’Orient.

There I learned that Major Gray, after making fresh purchases of goods at the Senegal for the purpose of continuing his journey in the interior, had failed in all his attempts, not without injuring the French commerce, a species of success which can have made but poor amends for the enormous loss which he has occasioned to England: for his enterprize, and those of Peddie, Campbell, and Tuckey, have, it is said, together cost England eighteen millions in French money (£750,000 sterling).

In 1824, I returned to the Senegal to try my fortune with a small venture, for which M. Sourget, a merchant of distinguished merit, made advances for me: the paternal sentiments which he manifested for me I shall ever hold in grateful remembrance.

I need not observe that, at the bottom of my heart, I still cherished my design of visiting the interior of Africa: and it seemed as if no obstacle could any longer impede me, when I saw at the head of the colony Baron Roger, whose philanthropy and enlightened understanding promised me a patron of all great and useful enterprizes.

I solicited therefore his authority for travelling in the interior, with the support and under the auspices of the king’s government: but M. Roger strove in the kindest manner to damp my zeal. He represented to me that the business in which I had embarked offered chances of fortune which it was imprudent to sacrifice; and that my youth and inexperience might moreover ruin my future prospects, and perhaps endanger my life. These representations entitled him to my gratitude, but did not shake my resolution.

I was bent on going, and I declared that if the government would not accept my offers, I would carry my plan into execution with my own unaided means. This determination made an impression upon the mind of the governor, who granted me some goods, that I might go and live among the Braknas and learn the Arabic language and the religious ceremonies of the Moors, in order that I might subsequently be able to lull their jealous mistrust, and thus penetrate the more easily to the interior of Africa.

TRAVELS
TO
TIMBUCTOO,
&c. &c.

CHAPTER I.

On Tuesday the 3rd of August 1824, at four in the afternoon, I set out from St. Louis, accompanied by two men and a woman, all three inhabitants of N’pâl, to which village they engaged to serve me as guides. About seven, we arrived at Leybar, a village situated two leagues S.E. ¼ E. from St. Louis. We there passed a wearisome night, on account of the musquitoes which devoured us. The weather was stormy; the thunder rolled the whole night, and the rain fell in torrents. We went to bed on our arrival: at ten o’clock we were called up to supper, for which a very good fish couscous[6] was provided.

On the morning of the 4th we pursued our journey. My fellow-travellers met with a little incident which delayed our progress: a sheep, destined for the celebration of the festival of the Tabasky[7], escaped from the negress who was driving it; we were obliged to run after the animal, but after several useless attempts to catch it, we continued our route. At ten in the morning we arrived at Gandon, a village only one league E. ¼ S.E. from Leybar. A most delightful country presented itself to our view. I saw many fields of cotton, which the negroes cultivate with success; indigo grows there without culture; there is but little millet in the environs of the village.

We sat down under a great tree, where travellers usually rest themselves till some one comes to offer them hospitality: on that day there was a great number of them, who took me for a Moor, because I wore the Moorish dress; but, being undeceived by my guides, who told them that I was about to become a convert to Islamism, they congratulated me upon my intention.

My companions, who were much grieved at the loss of their sheep, went back to look for it. I rested myself for about an hour, and then proceeding eastward, set out alone for N’ghiez. Between these two villages the traveller who pays any attention to the beauties of nature is enchanted by the view of the groups of verdure scattered over the plain. They consist of mimosas, the thick branches of which support the slender and flexible stems of asclepias and of different species of cynanchum, which, after climbing to their tops, droop down in garlands, and by the diversity of their flowers produce an admirable effect. They frequently meet with other plants; their stems mutually entwine, and their numerous branches become so closely united and twisted together as to form an aerial canopy, through which the eye perceives at a distance other groups, frequently fantastic, but always wonderful. The plain is covered with a carpet of verdure, the pleasing smoothness of which is broken by numerous shrubs, all differently decorated by the climbing plants which grow about them.

The parinarius senegalensis, which is very common in the plain, also embellishes the scene, and heightens the interest of the view to the traveller reposing in the shade of its thick foliage. All these beauties, with which nature is adorned, irrestibly lead the mind up to its Creator and fill it with admiration of his profound wisdom.

These delightful plains are intersected by marshes, wherein grow a great number of aquatic plants; as the road crosses these marshes, I was up to the knees in water. I reached N’ghiez about one in the afternoon: I rested there but a very short time: then, continuing my course eastward, I passed through some fields of millet. My way then led me into a desert plain, but clothed with vegetation, and I arrived at N’pâl by sunset, quite tired with my day’s journey, which I had performed barefoot and carrying my baggage on my head. I sought a lodging with a woman of St. Louis, who had her family at N’pâl: she received me very kindly, and thanks to her attentions, I passed a good night, which made me some amends for the preceding one.

On the 5th I remained at N’pâl. I spent the day in visiting the environs of the village, which is charmingly situated, amidst an immense plain, fertilized by the rains of the tropic. The inhabitants grow in abundance all that is requisite for their wants: accustomed to lead a very temperate life, they frequently have a surplus, which they carry for sale to St. Louis, bringing back in exchange fire-arms for their defence, and amber, coral, and glass trinkets to adorn their wives. This village is reputed to be the wealthiest in the neighbourhood of St. Louis. Its population may be estimated at two thousand, all marabouts. The natural advantages of their soil and situation have a visible influence on their manners; less slothful, less insolent, and less treacherous, than the negroes of other parts, they bestow hospitality without ostentation, and always in a generous manner which heightens its value. Every stranger is sure of finding an asylum among them.

Situated between the country of Cayor and Wâlo, twenty miles eastward of Gandon, this village, entirely independent, is governed by a marabout who is its absolute master. At his death he is succeeded by his eldest son; if the latter dies without children, the supreme power devolves to his nearest kinsman. This chief levies an impost on millet, which is paid to him in kind at harvest-time, and amounts to one tenth. The inhabitants are armed with muskets and lances. When the neighbouring villages are threatened with pillage by the damel, or king, of Cayor, their inhabitants seek refuge at N’pâl, where they are not only received, but also find generous allies who take up their defence.

Throughout the whole country the huts are small, ill constructed, and extremely filthy; the door is so low that to enter you are obliged to crawl on all fours. The residence of each family is composed of several huts surrounded by quick hedges, planted at random and without taste: sometimes this inclosure is formed merely of posts and rails, or a kind of palisade of straw. The streets are extremely narrow, winding, and dirty, all sorts of filth being thrown into them. Both men and women are very uncleanly, as in all the negro villages in this country, and they rub a great quantity of butter upon their heads.

Few idle persons are to be seen among them. The men employ themselves in the cultivation of their fields during the rainy season, and in clearing the land required for fresh crops during the dry season: the women have to attend to the household concerns; they spin cotton; some dye cloths blue with the indigo which the country supplies almost without culture; and the cleverest of them traffic in the productions of the soil, which they procure in exchange for the glass beads, amber, and coral, purchased at St. Louis, whither they repair to sell the corn and cloths, by which they make a great profit.

Though better than the other negroes, their neighbours, they are not exempt from superstition: the scarcity of stones in the neighbourhood has given rise to a fable which, being generally believed, may long contribute to the security of the country. There is one, about a quarter of a mile E. ¼ S.E. from the village. The absurd stories which I heard concerning this stone made me desirous to see it. It is by the road side, about eighteen inches in length and eight broad, the top of it projecting about four inches above the surface of the ground: in colour it is ferruginous and it has a volcanic appearance: I would have broken off a piece, but the negro who accompanied me prevented it. According to an ancient custom, all the inhabitants, when they pass this stone, draw a thread from their pagne, which they throw upon it, as a sort of offering which they make to it.

The marabouts assert and firmly believe, that when the village is threatened with any danger, for instance, pillage, this stone moves thrice round it in the preceding night, by way of warning; and all the warriors arm themselves in consequence. The two following tales are related by them in proof of the virtue of their stone. The Moors, joined by the people of Wâlo, advanced to the vicinity of N’pâl with the intention of plundering the place. This was in the dry season. The stone, after making the circuit of the village in the night, caused it to rain so vehemently, and blue flames to issue from the ground in such great quantity, that the Moors, struck with terror, betook themselves to flight: the inhabitants pursued and made a dreadful slaughter among them, and took prisoners a great number of Wâlo blacks, who were sold as slaves and carried to the colonies.

On another occasion, they were attacked by two Moorish kings, who carried off some of the inhabitants into slavery. These two kings, they say, were taken suddenly ill and died by the way: they did not fail to attribute their death to the power of the stone; the slaves were nevertheless carried away and have never returned. In short, the veneration excited by this stone has always been so great, that only ten years ago it was the object of a sort of religious worship. A festival was held and all the inhabitants were obliged to attend it: in the evening, calebashes full of nicely prepared couscous were placed near the stone, and as it was always eaten by the animals, the people believed that a spirit dwelt in the stone, and considered the acceptance of the offering as a happy omen. The greatest part of the day was spent in prayer; after which, on a signal given by the chief marabouts, all present ran away. If any one, in running, happened to fall, the accident was always regarded as an indication of his speedy death.

As I have already observed, the plain through which runs the road from N’ghiez to N’pâl is not cultivated, though the soil is capable of being rendered very productive. The woods consist principally of mimosas; and the various species of grasses which cover the ground attract thither abundance of all sorts of game. The soil in the environs of N’pâl is of two kinds: you meet with hollows in which the rain water settles, and this renders them far superior to the rest of the plain: they are composed of black sand, enriched by the mud which the water deposits, and by the remains of the vegetables which rot in it: these are the most productive spots. The rest of the land, though of inferior quality, is very fertile; it contains fields of considerable extent, cultivated with the greatest care; each marabout has his own, which he tills himself with his slaves. The inhabitants grow abundance of millet, cotton, water-melons, and a sort of beans, of which they consume a great quantity. They have herds of horned cattle, sheep, and goats: they rear great numbers of poultry, wild and tame ducks, Guinea fowl, and several kinds of game, the young of which they pick up in the fields.

The water which they drink is bad: they collect it in ponds during the rainy season, for the wells are at a great distance from the village, and even these furnish water that is by no means agreeable: I meant to go to see them, but a violent storm prevented my making this excursion.

On the 6th I purposed to set out, but it was Tabasky day, and I could not procure a guide. One offered himself for the following day, when I was seized with a fever, which confined me to my bed, and had such pains in all my limbs that I was unable to move. In the rainy season all the negroes are liable to this disorder, for which, however, they employ no remedy.

At length, on the 9th I was about to depart, when I was told that my guide was a thief, and that he would certainly rob me, or arrange with some accomplice to do it. As it was impossible for me to procure another, I deferred my departure till the following day.

On the 10th I availed myself of the opportunity of some persons going to their fields on the frontiers of Wâlo, who promised to put me into the right track. We proceeded N.E. ¼ N. for three miles; there they pointed out the route which I was to pursue, and then went to their work. I stopped for a moment, and then travelled on alone in a north-east direction toward Wâlo. About noon I arrived much fatigued at Sokhogne, a village in the Wâlo country; the route which I had followed was covered with wood. The environs of this village are not cultivated.

After resting myself under a tamarind-tree, I bought some milk and couscous. I went to see the chief of the village, who offered to conduct me to Merina, whither he was going, to ascertain the truth of certain rumours which were circulated, respecting a war between his country and the Peulhs.[8] I accompanied him, in spite of the fever which had not left me, and we arrived there at three in the afternoon. This village is about eighteen miles N.E. from N’pâl. We had still to travel through woods. I was extremely fatigued, and lay down in the shade of a hut into which I had been refused admission. The man, who had acted in the capacity of guide, came and informed me that two men would set out the same evening for Mall, and he advised me to seize this opportunity. He asked me if I could walk well at night, adding that it was as far from that place to Mall as it was from N’pâl to Merina; and he assured me that on the following day I should not meet with a guide. I determined therefore to accompany those whom chance offered me: I arranged with one of them to carry my baggage; he agreed to do so for two quires of paper and four heads or three leaves of tobacco; at sun-set we started.

The direction we pursued was N.E. ¼ E. One of my guides was on horseback; we walked at a good pace. Travelling in the dark was very unpleasant; I ran so many thorns into my feet that I was unable to proceed, and I offered the negro who had the horse the same price to let me ride as I paid for carrying my baggage: the negro accepted it and made me get up behind. I found this position so inconvenient that I was as tired as if I had walked; my feet, however, became no worse.

An hour before we reached the village, we entered some very fine fields of millet, which the moon-light enabled us to perceive. We reached Mall about one in the morning: at the noise made by the dogs on our approach, some of the inhabitants rose to enquire who we were. A good old marabout offered me his hut: my feet were so swollen and so painful that I could not stir a step: the negro lent me his arm, and kindly leading me in, told me to lie down on his humble bed. But for this attention of the humane old man’s, I should not have been able to prosecute my journey on the following day.

Having extracted a great quantity of thorns from my feet, I thought myself capable of starting, when I was suddenly seized with a most violent pain in my left arm, which obliged me to halt that day and the 12th at this village. I saw the lake of Panieh-Foul or N’gher; it is at this part about a mile broad.

On the 13th at sun-rise I set out from Mall with my old marabout, who insisted on accompanying me to Nieyeh,[9] about three miles distant. The whole country between these two villages is highly cultivated. It was eight in the morning when I parted from my guide: I proceeded northward, and about ten arrived at Neyreh. I sought a lodging with the chief of the village, to whom the old marabout at Mall had directed me, and who received me very kindly. He questioned me concerning the object of my journey; I replied that I was going to embrace the Mahometan faith: he highly approved my design, and endeavoured to impress me with the notion that God was extremely gracious to me in thus delivering me from the flames to which the christians are destined. My disguise deceived some persons; for, being in the evening at the door of the hut for the sake of coolness, I overheard a dispute between two women, one of whom asserted that I was a Moor.

On the following day, the 14th, I joined a Moor and three Moorish females who were travelling the same way as I was; they were mounted on carrier-bullocks[10]. At the distance of about three miles, we met a troop of Moors and negroes of Wâlo, who attempted to rob me. One of the Moors thrust his hand into my bundle, which was placed on a bullock, and pulled out a roll of papers, among which were letters of the utmost consequence to me, and carried them off. I ran after him, and had a long struggle with him for the purpose of recovering them, but several negroes interfered and knocked me down: at length the Moor who acted as a guide to me came to my assistance and obtained restitution of my roll. After some altercation they let me go; they nevertheless wanted to force me to give them some tobacco, which they had seen in my bundle; I would gladly have made a sacrifice to get rid of them, but this article was absolutely necessary to me, and I persisted in my refusal to give them any thing. They left us and we continued our route, without any other accident, to the camp to which my guides were bound, where we arrived about two in the morning. By the way I had suffered severely from thirst; I appeased it with milk and water, and lay down under a tent for about an hour, after bargaining with a man to take me on a carrier-bullock to the French settlements for a hundred head of cloves.

I set out and at five in the evening arrived at Richard-Tol, where I waited for an opportunity of proceeding. On the 18th I embarked in the Active cutter for Dagana. The night which I passed on board was as harassing as that which I spent at Leybar: at this season it is impossible to get any rest on board these small vessels unless you are provided with a mosquito-curtain; the mosquitoes settling upon you in countless numbers and inflicting inexpressible torments. In the evening of the 19th I arrived at Dagana, where I sojourned eight days. During this time I took walks in the environs, especially towards the neighbouring marigot[11] to the east of the village, where I had occasion to notice the ingenious manner, adopted by the negroes of Wâlo to catch the fish which are very abundant in these waters. They have a net eight or nine feet square, sewed up at one end: two thick flexible sticks are securely fastened at the extremities to the lateral sides of the net in such a manner, that by means of them the net may be shut and opened at pleasure: the upper side is left open or but half sewed up; lastly, the two sticks being held together with the hand, the net has the form of a bag. The negroes drive a row of stakes into the bottom of the marigot, so as to divide it in two: these stakes are placed so close as to allow only very small fish to pass; and they fasten to them, two feet below the surface of the water, wooden cross-bars on which they stand. To catch the fish, they sink the net gently to the bottom, holding the two sticks apart, that is, keeping the net open; then bringing the sticks together, they close it and draw it out of the water: in this manner the fish are taken as in a bag. To manage it with the greatest ease, they take care to let the sticks project two feet beyond the top of the net, and support these ends upon their shoulders; then with their hands they can move it about at pleasure. They have a stick about a foot long, with which they kill the fish, and then by means of an iron hook and a cotton cord they hang it to one of the stakes, to keep moist in the water till they have finished their fishery, which is always very productive. The nets are made of twisted cotton thread of the thickness of sail-makers’ twine.