Accompanied by Mr. Gagliuffi, the Greek doctor, and the Bin-básha, we left Múrzuk by the western gate. My parting from Mr. Gagliuffi was cordial. He had received us and treated us hospitably, and had shown an earnest desire to further our proceedings, and to secure if possible the success of our expedition; and, if in his commercial transactions with the mission he did not neglect his own advantage, we could not complain, though it would have been infinitely better for us if we had been provided with a more useful sort of merchandise.
In leaving the town we kept, in general, along the same path by which we had first entered it, and encamped during the hot hours of the day in the scanty shade afforded by the trees of Zerghán, the well close by affording us delicious draughts of cool water, not at all of that brackish insipid taste which is common to the water of Fezzán. We had started in the belief that we should find our luggage in Óm el hammám; but in this place we learned from the poor ragged people who come occasionally hither to take care of the trees, that it was gone on to Tigger-urtín. Not knowing, however, the road to the latter place, we took the path to Óm el hammám, and encamped about seven o’clock in the afternoon a little north of it.
Om el hammám is a half-decayed and deserted village, built of clay, which is strongly incrusted with salt, the inhabitants at present living entirely in huts made of palm-branches. The plantation being intermixed with a large number of ethel-trees (Tamarix orientalis), and interspersed with gardens, exhibited a more varied aspect than is generally the case with these groves; and having pitched our tent near a large ethel-bush, we felt very comfortable, especially as we had the good luck to obtain a few eggs, which, fried with plenty of onions, made a very palatable supper.
Next morning we directed our course to Tigger-urtín, making almost a right angle towards the north, and crossing a desolate plain incrusted with salt, after we had left the fine plantation of Óm el hammám. Having reached the village of our camel-drivers, which consists entirely of huts of palm-branches, we looked long in vain for a tolerable camping-ground, as the strong wind filled the whole air with sand. At length we pitched our tents a few paces south from the well. It was an extremely sultry and oppressive day, and the wind anything but refreshing. In the afternoon we went to pay our compliments to Mohammed Bóro, who had left Múrzuk several days before us. He informed us that he had consumed all his provisions, and that he would have left to-day for Tasáwa, in order to replenish his stores, if he had not seen us coming. We consoled him with the intimation that we hoped our whole party would be soon ready for starting, and sent him a quantity of dates and corn. The next day I went roving through the valley, which a little further to the north-west was much prettier, and had several fine clusters of palm-trees; but the most picturesque object was the old village, built of clay, now entirely in decay, but surrounded by a dense group of fine date-trees. Subjoined is a sketch of it.
At the south-west end of the grove also is a little village, likewise deserted. Here I met a Felláta or Pullo slave, a full-grown man, who, when a young lad, had been carried away from his native home, somewhere about Kazaure, and since then had been moiling and toiling here in this half-deserted valley, which had become his second home. He told me that fever had driven away the old inhabitants of the village long ago, after which the Tinýlkum seem to have taken entire possession of it, though it is remarkable that its name seems rather to belong to the Berber language, its original form being Tigger-odén (ŏdē means the valley), which has been changed into the more general form Tigger-urtín. The whole valley, which makes a turn towards the south-west, is full of ethel-bush, and affords shelter to a number of doves. Groups of palm-trees are scattered about.
In the morning I took a walk round the village of the Tinýlkum, which exhibited some lively and interesting scenes. All the men were saying their prayers together upon a sand-hill on the north side of the principal cluster of cottages, while the women were busy in getting ready the provisions for the long journey about to be undertaken by their husbands, and the children were playing among them. About fifty or sixty huts were lying hereabouts, most of them formed into groups; others more detached. Some of them had pointed roofs, while others were flat-roofed; but all of them had a neat and orderly appearance. Besides camels, which constitute their principal wealth, as by means of them they are enabled to undertake those long annual journeys to Sudán, they possess a good many sheep. Two of our camel-drivers, Ibrahím and Slimán, whom I shall have occasion to mention repeatedly, together with their mother and sister, were in possession of a flock of about two hundred head, which they were sending to the fine pasture-grounds of Terhén in Wady Berjúsh. Besides the latter valley, the Tinýlkum also use the valley Táderart as their chief pasture-grounds.
On the east-north-east side of the village rose a hill about one hundred feet high, and affording a fine view over the valley-plain. From its highest summit, where a niche for prayers has been laid out with stones on the ground, it stretches from east to west, and forms a kind of separation in the flat valley, limiting the ethel-tree to its western part, all the sand-hills in the eastern prolongation being covered with palm-bushes, which, from a distance, have the appearance of a thick grove. Descending from this hill northwards, I came to the handsomely decorated sepulchre of Háj Sálemi, the brother of the sheikh, who resides in Múrzuk, and further on met a party of Tinýlkum en route for the wady, where numbers of them are residing. Another division dwells about Sebhha; but the whole body of the tribe comprises from 350 to 400 families, which are united by the closest bonds, and act as one body—“like meal” (to use their own expression) “falling through the numerous holes of a sieve into one pot.” About noon arrived the pilgrim-caravan of the Tawáti, which had been long encamped near Múrzuk, on their way home; it had been this year only 114 persons strong, with 70 muskets, while sometimes it musters as many as 500 persons. Their chief, or sheikh el rákeb, was an intelligent person of the name of ʿAbd el Káder, a native of Timímun, who had been leader of the caravan several times. They encamped at no great distance from us on the open ground.
Being obliged to buy another camel for myself (in order to be able to mount our servant Mohammed el Túnsi on a camel of our own, the Tinýlkum being very particular about their beasts, and not liking to see a man often mounting them), I bought, in the afternoon, a fine tall méheri from Háj Mohammed, for 69 Fezzán riyals or 55 Spanish dollars. I made a longer excursion along the eastern part of the wady, which here, where it is lower and collects more humidity, is adorned with some beautiful wild groups of palm-trees left quite to themselves; the valley extends towards Wady Ghodwa, which it joins. Keeping on in that direction, I came to a poor hamlet called Márhhaba inhabited by a few families, who bitterly complained of their poverty. Here was formerly a village built of clay, and a large spacious castle about sixty-five paces square. All is now deserted; and only a small part of the available ground is under culture, forming about six or seven small fields. The same picture is met with all over Fezzán, where the only places exhibiting to the eye some degree of life and prosperity are Sokna and Múrzuk. The population of this wide expanse of country falls short of even sixty thousand souls.
The heat of the day had already set in, when I returned to the tents, where I was extremely rejoiced to see the different members of our caravan collecting at last, so as to afford a fair prospect of our soon setting out for unknown and more interesting regions. There had arrived Mohammed el Sfaksi, a man with whom Mr. Gagliuffi had entered into a sort of partnership for a commercial journey to Negroland, and whom he had supplied with a tolerable amount of merchandise; and in the afternoon came the boat. The following day Yusuf Mukni, Mr. Richardson’s interpreter, came with the rest of the luggage, so that gradually everything fell into its right place, and nothing was now wanting but the Tuarek chiefs to set our whole body in regular motion. We therefore procured a load of dates from Aghár, and, getting everything ready, roused our spirits for the contemplation of novelties and the encountering of difficulties; for the latter could certainly not be wanting where the former were at hand.
June 19.—While the greater part of the caravan took the direct road to the well Sháraba, Mr. Overweg and I, with the remainder, chose the road to Tessáwa, or rather, more accurately, Tasáwa; but though our party formed but a small body of people, yet it presented a very animated spectacle. The lazy Arab mode of letting the camels go singly, as they like, straggling about right and left, strains and fatigues the traveller’s attention; but his mind is stimulated and nerved to the contemplation of great distances to be traversed when he sees a long line of camels attached one to the other, and led by a man at a steady pace without any halt or interruption. As for myself, riding my own méheri, I was quite at liberty to go before or fall behind, just as the circumstances of the road called for observation, or presented something worthy of attention.
Having passed some tolerably deep sand-hills accumulated in the wady, we obtained a sight of an advanced spur of the plantation of Aghár to our left, when the ground became firm, and the country more open. Then, keeping along the southern border of the principal plantation, we passed the village and our former camping-ground, and having left further on some deserted villages and a few scattered huts of palm-leaves, still inhabited, a little on one side, about noon we again entered a sandy region with a few detached palm-groups. Here I observed a specimen of a very rare sort of bifurcated or divided palm-tree (not the dúm, which is generally so), with two distinct tufts hanging down on the opposite sides: this is the only specimen I ever saw. We then passed the village of Tasáwa, which, with its clay walls and towers, looks much more considerable from afar than it appears when viewed from among the deserted houses within it; still it is one of the more wealthy and important places in the country. A little beyond it we encamped on the open sandy ground, when, as our small tent had by mistake gone on in advance, and our large tent was too bulky to be pitched for one night’s rest, we contrived a very tolerable airy shade with our carpets.
We had scarcely made ourselves comfortable, when we received the joyful news that Hatíta, with two sons of Sháfo, had just arrived from Ghát, and were about to call on us. Their arrival of course had now become a matter of the utmost importance, as Mr. Richardson had made his mind up not to start without them, though it might have been clear, to every one well acquainted with the state of things in the interior, that their protection could not be the least guarantee for our favourable reception and success in the country of Aïr or Asben, inhabited and governed by an entirely distinct tribe. And, on the other hand, the arrival of these chiefs made our relation to Mohammed Bóro extremely disagreeable, for, after waiting so long for us, he now clearly saw that Mr. Gagliuffi, in declaring that we relied entirely on him for our success, while we were in fact placing ourselves wholly at the disposal of the chiefs of Ghát, was only trifling with him. He therefore flew into a violent passion, threatening openly before the people that he would take care that we should be attacked on the road by his countrymen; and these were not empty threats.
After a hot day followed a very fine evening, with a beautifully clear moonlight; and cherishing the fervent hope that, with the assistance of the Almighty, I should succeed in my dangerous undertaking, I lay down in the open encampment, and listened with hearty sympathy to the fervent prayers of the Tinýlkum, which in melodious cadence, and accompanied with the sound há, há, sometimes in a voice of thunder, at others in a melancholy unearthly plaint, were well adapted to make a deep impression upon the mind, the tall palm-trees forming majestic groups, and giving a fanciful character to the landscape in the calm moonlight.
It is a remarkable fact that, while the Mohammedan religion in general is manifestly sinking to corruption along the coast, there are ascetic sects rising up in the interior which unite its last zealous followers by a religious band. The particular sect to which belong the Tinýlkum, who in general are Máleki, has been founded by Mohammed el Médani, who established a sort of convent or oratory (zawíya) near Masráta, and endowed it with a certain extent of landed property, from the produce of which he fed many pilgrims. The best feature of this creed is the abolition of the veneration of dead saints, which has sullied in so high a degree the purity of Islám. Mohammed el Médani is said to have died a short time ago; but his son continues the pious establishment. It is a sort of freemasonry, and promises to make a great many proselytes. In Tasáwa also reside a few Tinýlkum, who, however, have been intimately intermixed with the Arabs, while the others in general keep their blood pure, and do not intermarry with the people of Fezzán.
Having assured ourselves that, owing to the arrival of the Tuarek chiefs, we should have to make some stay here, we determined to pitch our large tent early the next morning, while the chiefs had a long dispute with Mohammed eʾ Sfaksi, the subject of which I must relate, as it throws some light on the history and the present state of this country. The northern Tuarek, when they occupied the country round Ghát, established a sort of tribute, or gheráma, to be paid by merchants passing through their territory, and on payment of which the trader should be no further molested, but enjoy full protection. At that time the Masráta—a section of a very powerful Berber tribe—had made, as we shall see, a colonial settlement in Ágades, and, owing to their great power, commercial activity, and near connection with the Tuarek, were considered wholly exempt from any tribute, while the inhabitants of Tunis, who seem to have exhibited the jealousy or hostility of the great lords of the desert, were subjected to the highest personal exaction, viz. ten dollars a head. Now Gagliuffi’s partner was a native of Sfákes; but having long resided in Masráta, he insisted upon being free from tribute, like the inhabitants of the latter place; but our friends were not to be cheated out of their right, and made him pay as a Tunisian.
Having settled this little business, they came to us. There were Hatíta Inek (the son of) Khóden of the Manghásatangh, Utaeti (the eldest son of Sháfo), a younger son of the latter, and several more. The first, who had enjoyed the friendship of Captain Lyon, behaved throughout like a man well acquainted with Europeans; but Utaeti conducted himself like a strict Tarki, neither showing his face nor speaking a single word. Hatíta expressed the wish that we should not proceed until he returned from Múrzuk, where he assured us he would remain but a very short time; and we engaged to do our best to keep back the camel-drivers, who were but little inclined to stay here long. In consequence of this state of things, I determined to return to the town, in order to ascertain the terms entered into between the parties; and accordingly, starting at five in the evening, and resting a few hours after midnight in Zerghán, I reached Múrzuk on Friday morning at seven o’clock. I found that Mr. Gagliuffi had been very ill during the hot weather of the last few days; but to-day he was fortunately a little better.
Having waited in vain for the chiefs the whole of Saturday, we received a visit from them on Sunday, when they appeared in the finery with which they had been dressed by Mustapha Bey, but would not come to any terms; and it was not till Monday, when they took up their residence in the house belonging formerly to Mukni, but now to the Wakíl of Borno, that they concluded an arrangement. The sum which they then received would have been moderate, had they undertaken to see us safe under the protection of Annur, the chief of the Kél-owí. I urged, with Mr. Gagliuffi, the necessity of having a written copy of the agreement; but to this the chief would not listen, and thus confessed that there was really no distinct contract, as we had been given to understand, to the effect that Utaeti should not leave us till he had committed us to the care of the chief, Annur.
This business being concluded, I was in great haste to return to Tasáwa, and starting immediately afterwards, at one o’clock in the afternoon, arrived at our tent a little before midnight. Our tent, indeed, was still there; but all the Tinýlkum (Músa alone excepted), and all our things, were gone on, and Overweg and I were obliged to follow the next day without waiting for Mr. Richardson.
Accordingly, on the 25th of June we left Tasáwa, and after having crossed some sand-hills, entered upon harder soil, with ethel-bushes crowning the little hills,—the whole scene making the impression that a considerable current of water had at one period flowed along here and carried away the soil, which had once extended to the top of the hills. The whole district, which is a narrow and very long strip of land, affording a little herbage for cattle and sheep, bears the name of Wady Aberjúsh, or Berjúsh, and soon exhibits a more pleasant character; the encircling borders increase a little in height, while the sand ceases and a great deal of herbage begins to cover the soil. But after about another hour’s march, we entered upon pebbly ground like that of the Hammáda, and continued descending through a bare country till we reached the well Sháraba, where we encamped a little to the north, near a talha-bush. It is an open well, only three feet below the surface of the ground, which here forms a very remarkable hollow, almost six hundred feet below the level of Múrzuk, but nevertheless contains water only for two or three months in the year. It is, however, evident that in case of heavy rains a large pond or lake must be temporarily formed here by the torrent, which, sweeping along Wady Berjúsh, finds no outlet.
Towards evening the locality was enlivened for a short time by a small slave-caravan, led by Mohammed Trumba, or ʿAkerút, an active, energetic man, whom I met several times in the course of my travels, and incurred some obligation towards him, as it was he who, on my setting out from Zinder to Timbúktu in the beginning of 1853, brought me a supply of one thousand dollars, without which I could scarcely have succeeded in my undertaking. He had come in only sixty-five days from Zinder, and thirty-three from Asben, having been obliged to pursue his journey as fast as possible, because, owing to the expedition of the Kél-owí against the Welád Slimán, provisions were very scarce in Asben. He estimated the number of fighting men who had gone on that expedition at seven thousand, and stated that the Tuarek were acting in concert with the Dáza, a tribe of Tébu, whose real name is Búlgudá. He stated that eʾ Núr (or Annur, as the name is pronounced), the chief of the Kél-owí, was at present in Tasáwa (that is to say, the town of that name on the borders of Negroland), but would soon return to Asben. He confirmed the report of plenty of rain having fallen in the desert, in consequence of which the wells were full; but he begged me to beware of the cold during the nights, which he represented as very intense. He had twenty-three female slaves with him and only five camels, and hastened on to Tasáwa, in order to obtain dates for his famished people.
June 26.—Owing to the camels having strayed, it was very late when we left our encampment, and entered a sort of flat valley, from which we ascended to a higher level. From this we obtained a distant glance, towards the west-south-west, of the ruins of a fortress called Kasr Sháraba, the history of which, as it is connected with the struggles of yore between the Tébu and the inhabitants of Fezzán, would be full of interest, if it could be made out distinctly. Towards noon the country wore a more genial aspect, being adorned with several groups of palm-trees. We had to go round a rather steep hill, about three hundred and fifty feet high, from the summit of which I obtained an interesting view over the desert. The whole country presented a very irregular structure, and scarcely allowed the continuous line of the Wady Berjúsh to be traced by the eye, hills of considerable height and black pebbly tracts succeeding each other. Over such a desert we continued our march until, late in the afternoon, we reached a spot where the sight of a true wady, full of herbage and bordered by a strip of talha-trees, gladdened our hearts, and we encamped. It was a pleasant open ground; and the night being cool and refreshing, we felt very much invigorated when we rose the next morning to continue our march.
The talha-trees continued; but the herbage was principally limited to resú, an herb which has a very strong taste, and is not relished by camels for any length of time. The green strip took an irregular, winding course, sometimes approaching the sand-hills which we had always on our left at a certain distance, sometimes keeping more to our right; and Músa, our grave but cheerful camel-driver, dwelt in terms of the highest praise on the great superiority of this wady, which he said is joined by as many as a hundred smaller branches. It evidently forms the natural high road between Fezzán and the western desert, and about a month ago must have exhibited a more varied aspect, enlivened as it then was by a considerable torrent sweeping along it. In the afternoon we saw several spots where the eddying stream had formed itself a bed about five feet deep, and had turned up the ground all around; the crust of mire which covered the bed of the torrent had not yet dried. We encamped on a pleasant spot called Hamáwa, without pitching our tent, so delighted were we to enjoy the fresh air of the desert. Here we were joined by a man from Tasáwa, who wanted to seize a debtor who had attached himself to Bóro’s party in order to make his escape into Sudán—a practice very common with the people of Fezzán. By repeated measuring with our chain, we had found that, on tolerably even ground, our ordinary rate as the Tawárek travel was half an English geographical mile in thirteen minutes. It is the general custom of these people, who do not allow their camels to feed on the march, to leave them the whole night on the pasture, and not to fetch them till morning, for which reason they never start very early, and often at a rather late hour.
June 28.—About an hour after we had begun our march along the line of green herbage, we came to a temporary well called Ahitsa, containing very fine rain-water, but only for a period of about two months in the year. Having filled two of our water-skins, we continued our march, and soon, to our great joy, got sight of two white tents, belonging the one to Mohammed Bóro, the other to Mohammed eʾ Sfaksi, and pointing out to us the encampment of the caravan. It had been pitched on open ground, in the midst of the strip of green herbage, and surrounded with a rich border of talha-trees. The place offered good pasture for the camels; and a small encampment of other Tinýlkum not belonging to our caravan, but merely pasturing their camels and goats here, had been formed near the trees. The whole presented an animated picture. Our camel-drivers are said to possess, in the sand-hills bordering this valley on the south side, considerable stores of dates and corn, and to have taken from thence their supplies for the road. The whole character of this landscape appeared to me so peculiar that, the following morning before we started, I made a sketch of it from the elevated stony ground to the north of the channel, which here exhibited evident traces of a small waterfall formed by the heavy rains. Stones had been laid here in the form of a circle, as a place of prayer. The whole valley was about four miles broad; the locality is called Tesémmak.
When we started next morning, we formed a tolerably large party, with sixty-two camels, which were arranged in four strings, one of which consisted of thirty-three animals, each fastened to the tail of the preceding one. The valley was enlivened by a small herd of gazelles, which Overweg and I tried for a moment to pursue. Having passed a well called Tafiyúk, at a place where the sand-hills jut out into the valley, we encamped about half an hour beyond, near another well containing rain-water for a short time of the year, and called Em-éneza. Two branches of the wady unite here, and distinct traces of the great force of the last torrent remained in the broken condition of the ground.
Here we remained encamped for the two following days, in order to allow Mr. Richardson and the Azkár chiefs to come up. I spent the time sometimes writing and studying, at others roving about or musing while seated on some elevated rocks at the border of the rising ground. Músa was our constant visitor, and gave us all the information required, though he was not very intelligent. There had been some small differences between us and our camel-drivers, who, though in other respects not uncouth or uncivil, had, from religious principles, sometimes assumed a rather hostile position towards us. We now effected a general reconciliation, and there was every reason to believe that we should go on well with them.
July 2.—Being informed that our companions were near, we moved on a little, and at length got out of the eternal Wady Aberjúsh, with all its little side-branches, which are divided from the main wady by a gently rising ground covered with black pebbles. Then after a little we reached the Wady Eláwen, forming a broad depression running from the north, where it is joined by several branch channels descending from the plateau towards the sand-hills on the south, and encamped on its western side, between tall sebót shooting up from the sandy ground, and near some fine talha-trees. We soon discovered, to our great delight, that only two hundred paces above our encampment the floods, descending from the higher ground in two large branches, and carrying down with them bushes and brushwood in abundance, had formed a pond at present about 100 ft. long and 50 ft. broad, which contributed greatly to enliven the district. All the world was bathing and playing about the water; and flights of thirsty birds, of the kinds Numida and Pterocles, were hovering about, watching a favourable moment to come in for their share. Everywhere in the bottom of the valley there was water at a little depth; and we obtained excellent potations from a well dug by our people close below our tents.
About five o’clock in the afternoon we were at length joined by Mr. Richardson and the chiefs of the Azkár; but the unsatisfactory way in which the business had been concluded with these chiefs in Múrzuk led to a break-up sooner even than I had suspected. The next evening Hatíta summoned us to a divan, and declared distinctly that he required a month’s time to make the necessary preparations for the journey to Aïr. Hence it would be necessary for us to separate from the caravan, and, taking our luggage with us to Ghát, to hire or buy other camels there. In reply to this unjust and absurd demand, we declared that we had no other choice but to follow the direct Sudán road in the company of the caravan, and that it was our firm intention at any rate not to lose more than seven days in Ghát. Hatíta having left us rather dissatisfied at our decision, our servants, who would gladly have idled away one or two months in Ghát as they had done in Múrzuk, insolently told us that we were very much mistaken in thinking that the road to Aïr was in any degree open to us, for it would first be necessary to send a courier to ask the permission of the chiefs of that country to enter it, and we must wait for the answer.
While remaining firm in our resolution, we of course consented to go to Ghát, and tried at the same time to come to some final arrangement with our camel-drivers, promising them a small allowance for every day they should wait for us. They at length promised to spend ten days on the way to Arikím, a well three days’ march south from Ghát, where they would wait six days, and then go on directly to Aïr. Attacking the old chief, therefore, on his weakest side, we sent him word the next morning that, as we had but little money with us, he would not succeed in getting anything of value from us, if he should try to keep us in Ghát for any length of time; and I insisted, with Yusuf Mukni, upon the dishonesty of the chief’s conduct, in trying to make an entirely new bargain after he had got all he demanded. His answer was satisfactory; and with the fervent hope that we should not be baffled in our attempt to discover new regions and new tribes of men, we left the further development of the affair to time.
While these disputes were going on, I employed my leisure hours in roving about our encampment, in different directions, up and down the valley. The eastern of the two branches, which by their junction form the valley, was peculiarly rich in herbage, and commanded by a hill starting up from the plateau, which afforded a very interesting view around, though this was almost surpassed by the prospect from a mound a little to the west-south-west of our tent. The lower part of the valley was more diversified by numerous branches, which joined it on the south-east side. One of these, which was bordered by high ridges of sandstone, was evidently a favourite playground of the gazelles, the fresh footmarks of which chequered its sandy bottom like a net. Pursuing this direction, I approached the sand-hills which form the southern border of this whole district. Fatigued by my long walk, I was the more able in the evening to do full justice to our supper, which was diversified by a variety of birds that had been shot in the course of the day near the pond.