Friday, August 9.—There had been much talk about our starting at midnight; but, fortunately, we did not get off before daylight, so that I was able to continue my exact observations of the route, which was now to cross the defile observed yesterday afternoon, which already began to impart quite a characteristic aspect to the country. There were some beautifully shaped cones rising around it, while beyond them an uneven tract stretched out, crowded with small elevations, which gradually rose to greater height; among them one peak, of very considerable elevation, was distinguished by its graceful form, and seemed worthy of a sketch. Attached to it was a lower rocky range, with a very marked horizontal crest, while running parallel to our path were small ledges of gneiss. After a march of seven miles and a half, we ascended a considerable range of rugged eminences, from the crest of which we followed a steep descent into an uneven rocky tract intersected by several shallow beds of torrents; and then, just as the heat began, we reached the valley of Arókam, where we encamped at about half an hour’s distance from the well, and opposite to a branch wady through which lay our next day’s route. In the afternoon I climbed the highest of the cones rising above the cliffs, but without obtaining any distant prospect.
Saturday, August 10.—The active buzu Amankay, who early in the morning went once more to the well in order to fill a few water-skins, brought the news that a considerable caravan, consisting chiefly of Aníslimen or Merabetín from Tintaghodé, had arrived at the well the evening before, on their road to Ghát, and that they protested against our visiting their country, and still more against our approaching their town. Notwithstanding the bad disposition of these people towards us, I managed to induce one of them, who visited our encampment, to take charge of letters addressed by me to Háj Ibrahim, in Ghát, which I am glad to say arrived safely in Europe. Amankay reported to us that on his way to the well he had observed a small palm-tree.
We started rather late in the morning, entering the branch wady, which proved to be far more considerable than it seemed, and rich in talha-trees. In this way we kept winding along several valleys, till, after a march of three miles, we ascended and crossed a very interesting defile, or a slip in the line of elevation, bordered on both sides by a terraced and indented slope, the highest peaks of the ridge rising to not less than a thousand feet, while their general elevation was about six hundred feet. Mr. Overweg recognized this as gneiss. Close beyond this defile, at the foot of mounds of disintegrated granite, we encamped, to our great astonishment, a little after eight o’clock in the morning; but the reason of this short march was that our companions, on account of the arrival of the caravan above mentioned, did not choose to stop at our former encampment, else they would have rested there to-day. In the afternoon a high wind arose, which upset our tent.
Sunday, August 11.—After a march of little more than two miles over an irregular tract of granite, in a state of great disintegration, intersected by crests of gneiss, we obtained from a higher level an interesting view over the whole region, and saw that beyond the hilly ground of broken granite a large plain of firm gravelly soil spread out, surrounded by a circle of higher mounts. Then followed a succession of flat, shallow valleys, overgrown with sebót- and talha-trees, till the ridges on the right and left (the latter rising to about eight hundred feet) approached each other, forming a sort of wider passage or defile. The spur of the range to the left, with its strongly marked and indented crest, formed quite an interesting feature.
Beyond this passage we entered a bare gravelly plain, from which rose a few detached mounts, followed by more continuous ranges, forming more or less regular valleys. The most remarkable of these is the valley Aséttere, which in its upper course, where it is called Ákafa, is supplied by the famous well Tajétterat; but as we were sufficiently supplied with water from Arókam, and as the well Aïsalen was near, we left it on one side.
We encamped at length in a valley joined by several branch vales, and therefore affording a good supply of herbage, which the Kél-owí were anxious to collect as a supply for the journey over the entirely bare tract to Asïu. As for ourselves, one of our servants being utterly unfit for work, we could not lay in a supply. We had been rather unfortunate with this fellow; for having hired him in Múrzuk, he was laid up with the guinea-worm from the very day that we left Ghát, and was scarcely of any use at all. This disease is extremely frequent among people travelling along this route; Amankay also was suffering from it, and at times became quite a burden. It attacked James Bruce even after his return to Europe; and I always dreaded it more than any other disease, during my travels in Central Africa; but, fortunately, by getting a less serious one, which I may call sore legs, I got rid of the causes which, I am sure, when acting in a stronger degree, produce the vena.
About sunset I ascended the eastern cliffs, which are very considerable, and from the highest peak, which rose to an elevation of more than twelve hundred feet above the bottom of the valley, obtained an extensive view. The whole formation consists of granite, and its kindred forms of mica, quartz, and felspar. The bottom of the valley bore evident traces of a small torrent which seems to refresh the soil occasionally, and the same was the case with several small ravines which descend from the south-eastern cliffs.
Monday, August 12.—Our route followed the windings of the valley, which, further on, exhibited more ethel- than talha-trees, besides detached specimens of the Asclepias. After a march of four miles and a half, we came to two wells about four feet deep, and took in a small supply of water. The granite formation at the foot of the cliffs on our left was most beautiful, looking very like syenite. While we were taking in the water, flocks of wildfowl (Pterocles) were flying over our heads, and expressed by repeated cries their dissatisfaction at our disturbing their solitary retreat. The ethel, the talha, and the áddwa, or abórak, enliven these secluded valleys.
Delighted by the report of Amankay, who came to meet us, that he had succeeded in detaining the caravan of the Tinýlkum at Aïsala, where they were waiting for us, we cheerfully continued our march; but before we reached the place the whole character of the country changed, the cliffs being craggy and split into huge blocks heaped upon each other in a truly Cyclopean style, such as only Nature can execute, while the entire hollow was covered with granite masses, scarcely allowing a passage. Descending these, we got sight of the encampment of the caravan, in a widening of the hollow; and after paying our compliments to all the members of this motley band, we encamped a little beyond, in a recess of the western cliffs.
The Tinýlkum as well as Bóro Serki-n-turáwa were very scantily provided. They had lost so much time on the road on our account that it was necessary, as well as just, to leave them part of the provisions which they were carrying for us. All our luggage we found in the best state. Very much against their will, our companions had been supplied on the road with the flesh of nine camels, which had succumbed to the fatigues of the march; and some of them, and especially our energetic friend Háj ʿOmar, had obtained a tolerable supply by hunting: besides wadáns, they had killed also several gazelles, though we had scarcely seen any.
They had been lingering in this place four days, and were most anxious to go on. But we had a great deal to do, for all our luggage was to be repacked, all the water-skins to be filled, and herbage and wood to be collected for the road. Besides Ibrahim, who was lame and useless, Overweg and myself had only two servants, one of whom (Mohammed, the liberated Tunisian slave) was at times a most insolent rascal.
Besides, we were pestered by the Kél-owí and by Utaeti, and I got into a violent dispute with Fárreji, the shameless freed-slave of Lusu; still I managed on the morning of the following day to rove about a little. Just above the well rises a confused mass of large granite blocks, the lowest range of which was covered with Tefínagh inscriptions, one of which I copied. It was written with uncommon accuracy and neatness, and if found near the coast would be generally taken for Punic. I was obliged to be cautious, as there was a great deal of excitement and irritation in the caravan, and from what had previously taken place all the way from Múrzuk, everybody regarded us as the general purveyors, and cherished the ardent hope that at last it would be his good fortune, individually, to get possession of our property.
In the afternoon the Tinýlkum started in advance, and we followed them, the hollow gradually widening and becoming clothed with large knots of low ethel-bushes. At the point where this valley joins another, and where a large quantity of herbage bedecked the ground, we found our friends encamped, and chose our ground a little beyond them, near a low cliff of granite rocks. All the people were busily employed cutting herbage for the journey, while Mr. Richardson at length succeeded in satisfying Utaeti, who was to return. He had been begging most importunately from me, and by way of acknowledging my obligations to him I presented him, on parting, with a piece of white muslin and a red sash, together with something for Hatíta.
These parties were scarcely quieted when others took their place, urging their pretensions to our acknowledgments; and we had just started the next day when Bóro Serki-n-turáwa despatched, underhand, my smart friend the Tawáti ʿAbd el Káder, with full instructions to give me a lecture on his boundless power and influence in the country which we were fast approaching. I was aware of this before, and knew that, in our situation as unprotected travellers in a new country, we ought to have secured his friendly disposition from the beginning; but the means of our expedition being rather limited, Mr. Richardson had made it a principle never to give till compelled by the utmost necessity, when the friendly obligation connected with the present was, if not destroyed, at least greatly diminished.
The structure of the valley soon became irregular, and the character of the country more desolate, a circumstance which seems to be expressed by its name, Ikadémmelrang. All was granite, in a state of the utmost disintegration, and partly reduced to gravel, while detached cones were rising in all directions. Marching along over this dreary and desolate country, we reached, at half-past two in the afternoon, after a gradual and almost imperceptible ascent, the highest level of the desert plain, from whence the isolated rocky cones and ridges look like so many islands rising from the sea. A sketch which I made of one of these mounts will give an idea of their character.
After a march of twelve hours and a half, which I would have gladly doubled, provided our steps had been directed in a straight line towards the longed-for regions of Negroland, we encamped on hard ground, so that we had great difficulty in fixing the pegs of our tents. The sky was overcast with thick clouds, but our hopes in a refreshing rain were disappointed.
Thursday, August 15.—The character of the country continued the same, though the weather was so foggy that the heights at some distance were quite enveloped, and became entirely invisible. This was a sure indication of our approaching tropical climes. After a march of three miles and a half, the ground became more rugged for a short time, but was soon succeeded by a gravelly plain. The sky had become thickly clouded, and in the afternoon a high wind arose, succeeded, about two o’clock, by heavy rain, and by distant thunder, while the atmosphere was exceedingly heavy, and made us all feel drowsy.
It was three o’clock when we arrived at the Marárraba, the “halfway” between Ghát and Aïr, a place regarded with a kind of religious awe by the natives, who in passing place each a stone upon the mighty granite blocks which mark the spot. To our left we had irregular rocky ground, with a few elevations rising to greater height, and ahead a very remarkable granite crest, sometimes rising, at others descending, with its slopes enveloped in sand up to the very top. This ridge, which is called Giféngwetáng, and which looks very much like an artificial wall erected between the dry desert and the more favoured region of the tropics, we crossed further on through an opening like a saddle, and among sand-hills where the slaves of our companions ran about to pick up and collect the few tufts of herbage that were scattered over the surface, in order to furnish a fresh mouthful to the poor wearied animals. At four o’clock the sand-hills ceased, and were succeeded by a wide pebbly plain, on which, after six miles travelling, we encamped. Our encampment was by no means a quiet one, and to any one who paid due attention to the character and disposition of the people serious indications of a storm, which was gathering over us, became visible. Mohammed Bóro, who had so often given vent to his feelings of revenge for the neglect with which he had been treated, was all fire and fury, and stirring up the whole encampment, he summoned all the people to a council, having, as he said, received intelligence that a large party of Hogár were coming to Asïu. Not having paid much attention to the report about Sídi Jáfel’s expedition, I became anxious when made aware of the man’s fury, for I knew the motives which actuated him.
Friday, August 16.—We started early. Gravelly and pebbly grounds succeeded each other, the principal formation being granite; but when, after a march of about thirteen miles, we passed the narrow sandy spur of a considerable ridge approaching our left, a fine species of white marble became visible. We then passed a rugged district, of peculiar and desolate appearance, called Ibéllakang, and crossed a ridge of gneiss covered with gravel. Here, while a thunder-storm was rising in the east, our caravan, to our great regret, divided, the Tinylkum turning off towards the east, in order, as we were told, to look for a little herbage among the sand-hills. Meanwhile thick, heavy clouds, which had been discharging a great quantity of rain towards the east, broke over us at a quarter past four o’clock in the afternoon, when we were just in the act of crossing another rocky crest covered with gravel. A violent sand-storm, followed by heavy rain, which was driven along by a furious gale, soon threw the caravan into the utmost confusion, and made all observation impossible; but fortunately it did not last long. It was on descending from this crest, while the weather cleared up, that the Háusa slaves, with a feeling of pride and joy, pointed out in the far distance “dútsi-n-Absen” (Mount Absen). Here the granite formation had been gradually succeeded by sandstone and slate. This district, indeed, seems to be the line of demarcation between two different zones.
At twenty minutes past six o’clock we at length encamped, but were again in the saddle at eleven o’clock at night, and in pale moonlight, sleepy and worn out as we were, began a dreadful night’s march. But altogether it proved to be a wise measure taken by the Kél-owí, who had reason to be afraid lest the Hogár, of whom they appeared to have trustworthy news, might overtake us before we reached the wells of Asïu, and then treat us as they pleased. Our companions, who were of course themselves not quite insensible to fatigue, as night advanced, became very uncertain in their direction, and kept much too far to the south. When day dawned our road lay over a flat, rocky, sandstone surface, while we passed on our left a locality remarkable for nothing but its name, Efínagha. We then descended from the rocky ground into the extremely shallow valley of Asïu, overgrown with scanty herbage of a kind not much liked by the camels. Here we encamped, near a group of four wells, which still belong to the Azkár, while a little further on there are others which the Kél-owí regard as their own property. How it was that we did not encamp near the latter I cannot say. But the people were glad to have got so far. The wells, or at least two of them, afforded an abundant supply of water; but it was not of a good quality, and had a peculiar taste, I think on account of the iron ore with which it was impregnated.
This, then, was Asïu, a place important for the caravan trade at all times, on account of the routes from Ghadámes and from Tawát joining here, and which did so even as far back as the time when the famous traveller Ebn Batúta returned from his enterprising journey to Sudán homewards by way of Tawát (in the year 1353-4). Desolate and melancholy as it appeared, it was also an important station to us, as we thought that we had now left the most difficult part of the journey behind us. For though I myself had some forebodings of a danger threatening us, we had no idea that the difficulties which we should have to encounter were incomparably greater than those which we had passed through. Mr. Richardson supposed that because we had reached the imaginary frontier of the territories of the Azkár and Kél-owí, we were beyond the reach of any attack from the north. With the utmost obstinacy he reprobated as absurd any supposition that such a frontier might be easily crossed by nomadic roving tribes, asserting that these frontiers in the desert were respected much more scrupulously than any frontier of Austria, notwithstanding the innumerable host of its land-waiters. But he was soon to be undeceived on all the points of his desert diplomacy, at his own expense and that of us all.
There was very little attraction for roving about in this broad gravelly plain. Now and then a group of granite blocks interrupted the monotonous level, bordered on the north by a gradually ascending rocky ground, while the southern border rose to a somewhat higher elevation.
Desolate as the spot was, and gloomy as were our prospects, the arrival of the Tinýlkum in the course of the afternoon afforded a very cheerful sight, and inspired some confidence, as we felt that our little party had once more resumed its strength. All the people, however, displayed an outward show of tranquillity and security, with the exception of Serki-n-turáwa, who was bustling about in a state of the utmost excitement. Watering the camels and filling the water-skins employed the whole day.
Sunday, August 18.—After a two hours’ march we began to ascend, first gradually, then more steeply, all the rocks hereabouts, consisting of slate, greatly split and rent, and covered with sand. In twenty-five minutes we reached the higher level, which consisted of pebbly ground, with a ridge running, at the distance of about four miles, to the west.
While we were quietly pursuing our road, with the Kél-owí in the van, the Tinýlkum marching in the rear, suddenly Mohammed the Sfaksi came running behind us, swinging his musket over his head, and crying lustily, “He awelád, awelád bú, ʿadúna já!” (“Lads, lads, our enemy has come!”), and spreading the utmost alarm through the whole of the caravan. Everybody seized his arms, whether musket, spear, sword, or bow, and whosoever was riding jumped down from his camel. Some time elapsed before it was possible, amid the noise and uproar, to learn the cause of the alarm. At length it transpired. A man named Mohammed, belonging to the caravan, having remained a little behind at the well, had observed three Tuarek, mounted on mehára, approaching at a rapid rate; and while he himself followed the caravan, he left his slave behind to see whether others were in the rear. The slave, after a while, overtook him, with the news that several more camels had become visible in the distance; and then Mohammed and his slave hurried on to bring us the intelligence. Even Mr. Richardson, who, being rather hard of hearing, judged of our situation only from the alarm, descended from his slender little she-camel and cocked his pistols. A warlike spirit seemed to have taken possession of the whole caravan, and I am persuaded that had we been attacked at this moment, all would have fought valiantly. But such is not the custom of freebooting parties; they will cling artfully to a caravan, and first introduce themselves in a tranquil and peaceable way, till they have succeeded in disturbing the little unity which exists in such a troop, composed as it is of the most different elements; they then gradually throw off the mask, and in general attain their object.
When at length a little tranquillity had been restored, and plenty of powder and shot had been distributed among those armed with firelocks, the opinion began to prevail that, even if the whole of the report should be true, it was not probable that we should be attacked by daylight. We therefore continued our march with a greater feeling of security, while a body of archers was despatched to learn the news of a small caravan which was coming from Sudán, and marching at some distance from us, behind a low ridge of rocks. They were a few Tébu, with ten camels and between thirty and forty slaves, unconsciously going to meet a terrible fate; for we afterwards learned that the Imghád of the Hogár, or rather the Hadánara, disappointed at our having passed through their country without their getting anything from us, had attacked this little troop, murdering the Tébu, and carrying off their camels and slaves.
While the caravan was going slowly on, I was enabled to allow my méheri a little feeding on the nesí (Panicum grossularium, much liked by camels), in a spot called Tahasása. At noon we began to ascend on rocky ground, and, after a very gradual ascent of three miles, reached the higher level, strewn with pebbles, but exhibiting further on a rugged slaty soil, till we reached the valley Fénorang. This valley, which is a little less than a mile in breadth and two in length, is famous for its rich supply of herbage, principally of the kind called bú rékkebah, and the far-famed el hád (the camel’s dainty), and is on this account an important halting-place for the caravans coming from the north, after having traversed that naked part of the desert, which produces scarcely any food for the camel. Notwithstanding, therefore, the danger which threatened us, it was determined to remain here not only this, but also the following day.
As soon as the loads were taken off their backs, the half-starved camels fell to devouring eagerly the fine herbage offered them. Meanwhile we encamped as close together as possible, preparing ourselves for the worst, and looking anxiously around in every direction. But nobody was to be seen till the evening, when the three men on their mehára made their appearance, and, being allowed to approach the caravan, made no secret of the fact that a greater number were behind them.
Aware of what might happen, our small troop had all their arms ready, in order to repulse any attack; but the Kél-owí and the few Azkár who were in our caravan kept us back, and, after a little talk, allowed the visitors to lie down for the night near our encampment, and even solicited our hospitality in their behalf. Nevertheless, all of them well knew that the strangers were freebooters, who could not but have bad designs against us; and the experienced old Awed el Khér, the sheikh of the Káfila, came expressly to us, warning and begging us to be on our guard, while Bóro Serki-n-turáwa began to play a conspicuous part, addressing the Kél-owí and Tinýlkum in a formal speech, and exhorting them to stand by us. Everybody was crying for powder, and nobody could get enough. Our clever but occasionally very troublesome servant Mohammed conceived a strategical plan, placing on the north side of the two tents the four pieces of the boat, behind each of which one of us had to take his station in case of an attack.
Having had some experience of freebooters’ practices in my former wanderings, I knew that all this was mere farce and mockery, and that the only way of ensuring our safety would have been to prevent these scouts from approaching us at all. We kept watch the whole night; and of course the strangers, seeing us well on our guard, and the whole caravan still in high spirits and in unity, ventured upon nothing.
Monday, August 19.—In the morning our three guests (who, as I made out, did not belong to the Azkár, but were Kél-fadé from the northern districts of Aïr) went slowly away, but only to join their companions, who had kept at some distance beyond the rocky ridge which bordered or, rather, interrupted the valley to the westward. There some individuals of the caravan, who went to cut herbage, found the fresh traces of nine camels. In spite of outward tranquillity, there was much matter for anxiety and much restlessness in the caravan, and suddenly an alarm was given that the camels had been stolen, but fortunately it proved to be unfounded. ʿAbd el Káder, the Tawáti of whom I have spoken above, trying to take advantage of this state of things, came to Mr. Overweg, and urgently pressed him to deposit everything of value with Awed el Khér, the Kél-owí, and something, “of course,” with him also. This was truly very disinterested advice; for if anything had happened to us, they would of course have become our heirs. In the evening we had again three guests, not, however, the same as before, but some of their companions, who belonged to the Hadánara, one of the divisions of the Azkár.
Tuesday, August 20.—At an early hour we started, with an uneasy feeling. With the first dawn the true believers had been called together to prayer, and the bond which united the Mohammedan members of the caravan with the Christian travellers had been loosened in a very conspicuous manner. Then the encampment broke up, and we set out—not, however, as we had been accustomed to go latterly, every little party starting off as soon as they were ready, but all waiting till the whole caravan had loaded their camels, when we began our march in close order, first along the valley, then entering upon higher ground, sometimes gravelly, at others rocky. The range to our right, here a little more than a mile distant, bears different names, corresponding to the more prominent parts into which it is separated by hollows or saddles, the last cone towards the south being called Timázkaren, a name most probably connected with that of the Azkár tribe, while another is named Tin-dúrdu-rang. The Tarki or Amóshagh is very expressive in names; and whenever the meaning of all these appellations shall be brought to light, I am sure we shall find many interesting significations. Though I paid a good deal of attention to their language, the Tarkíyeh or Temáshight, I had not leisure enough to become master of the more difficult and obsolete terms; and, of course, very few even among themselves can at present tell the exact meaning of a name derived from ancient times.
At length we had left behind us that remarkable ridge, and entering another shallow valley full of young herbage, followed its windings, the whole presenting a very irregular structure, when suddenly four men were seen ahead of us on an eminence, and instantly a troop of lightly armed people, amongst them three archers, were despatched, as it seemed, in order to reconnoitre, marching in regular order straight for the eminence.
Being in the first line of our caravan, and not feeling so sure on the camel as on foot, I dismounted, and marched forward, leading my méheri by the nose-cord, and with my eyes fixed upon the scene before us. But how much was I surprised when I saw two of the four unknown individuals executing a wild sort of armed dance together with the Kél-owí, while the others were sitting quietly on the ground! Much perplexed, I continued to move slowly on, when two of the men who had danced suddenly rushed upon me, and grasping the rope of my camel, asked for tribute. Quite unprepared for such a scene under such circumstances, I grasped my pistol, when, just at the right time, I learnt the reason and character of this curious proceeding.
The little eminence on the top of which we had observed the people, and at the foot of which the armed dance was performed, is an important locality in the modern history of the country which we had reached. For here it was that when the Kél-owí (at that time an unmixed and pure Berber tribe, as it seems) took possession of the country of Old Góber, with its capital, Tin-shamán, a compromise or covenant was entered into between the red conquerors and the black natives, that the latter should not be destroyed, and that the principal chief of the Kel-owí should only be allowed to marry a black woman. And as a memorial of this transaction, the custom has been preserved that when caravans pass the spot where the covenant was entered into, near the little rock Máket-n-ikelán, “the slaves” shall be merry and be authorized to levy upon their masters a small tribute. The black man who stopped me was the “serki-n-baï” (the principal or chief of the slaves).
These poor, merry creatures, while the caravan was proceeding on its march, executed another dance; and the whole would have been an incident of the utmost interest, if our minds and those of all the well-disposed members of the caravan had not been greatly oppressed and vexed with sad forebodings of mishap. The fear was so great that the amiable and sociable Slimán (one of the Tinýlkum, who at a later period manifested his sympathy with us in our misfortunes) begged me most urgently to keep more in the middle of the caravan, as he was afraid that one of those ruffians might suddenly rush upon me, and pierce me with his spear.
The soil hereabouts consisted entirely of bare gravel; but farther on it became more uneven, and broken by granite rocks, in the cavities among which our people found some rain-water. The tract on our right was called Tisgáwade, while the heights on our left bore the name Tin-ébbeke. I here rode awhile by the side of Émeli, a Tarki of the tribe of the Azkár, a gentleman both in his dress and manners, who never descended from the back of his camel. Although he appeared not to be very hostile to the robbers on our track, and was certainly aware of their intention, I liked him on account of his distinguished manners, and, under more favourable circumstances, should have been able to obtain a great deal of information from him. But there was with him a rather disagreeable and malicious fellow named Mohammed (or, as the Tuarek pronounce it, Mokhammed), from Yánet or Jánet, who, in the course of the difficulties which befell us, did us a great deal of mischief, and was fully disposed to do us much more.
The country, which in the meantime had become more open, after a while became bordered ahead by elevations in the form of a semicircle, while we began to ascend. The weather had been extremely sultry and close the whole day, and at last, about three o’clock in the afternoon, the storm broke out, but with less violence than on the day before our arrival at Asïu. We encamped at length on an open gravelly plain, surrounded by ridges of rocks, without pitching our tents; for our unwished-for guests had in the face of the Tinýlkum openly declared that their design was to kill us, but that they wanted first to get more assistance. Notwithstanding this, Mr. Richardson even to-night was obliged to feed these ruffians; such is the weakness of a caravan—although in our case the difference of religion, and consequent want of unity, could not but greatly contribute to paralyze its strength. I here heard that some of the party were Imghád, from Tádomat. Under such circumstances, and in such a state of feeling, it was impossible to enjoy the sport and frolics of the slaves (that is, of the domestic slaves) of the Kél-owí, who with wild gestures and cries were running about the encampment to exact from all the free individuals of the caravan their little Máket-n-ikelán tribute, receiving from one a small quantity of dates, from another a piece of muslin or a knife, from another a shirt. Everybody was obliged to give something, however small. Notwithstanding our long day’s march, Overweg and I found it necessary to be on the watch the whole night.
Wednesday, August 21.—Starting at an early hour, we ascended very rugged ground, the rocky ridges on both sides often meeting together and forming irregular defiles. After a march of five miles and a half, we reached the highest elevation, and obtained a view over the whole district, which, being sprinkled, as it were, with small granitic mounds, had a very desolate appearance; but in the distance to our left an interesting mountain group was to be seen, of which the accompanying sketch will give some idea.
Having crossed several small valleys, we reached, a little before ten o’clock, one of considerable breadth, richly overgrown with herbage, and exhibiting evident traces of a violent torrent which had swept over it the day before, while with us but little rain had fallen. It is called Jínninau, and improved as we advanced, our path sometimes keeping along it, sometimes receding to a little distance; in some places the growth of the trees, principally the Balanites or abórak, was indeed splendid and luxuriant. Unfortunately we had not sufficient leisure and mental ease to collect all the information which, under more favourable circumstances, would have been within our reach. Thus, I learnt that magnetic ironstone was found in the mountains to our left. After noon the valley divided into three branches, the easternmost of which is the finest and richest in vegetation, while the western one, called Tiyút, has likewise a fine supply of trees and herbage; we took the middle one, and a little further on, where it grew narrower, encamped.
It was a very pretty and picturesque camping-ground. At the foot of our tents was a rocky bed of a deep and winding torrent, bordered by most luxuriant talha- and abórak-trees (Balanites Ægyptiaca), and forming a small pond where the water, rushing down from the rocks behind, had collected; the fresh green of the trees, enlivened by recent rains, formed a beautiful contrast with the dark-yellowish colour of the rocks behind. Notwithstanding our perilous situation, I could not help straying about, and found, on the blocks over the tebki or pond, some coarse rock-sculptures representing oxen, asses, and a very tall animal which, according to the Kél-owí, was intended to represent the giraffe.
While I was enjoying the scenery of the place, Dídi stepped suddenly behind me, and tried to throw me down, but not succeeding, laid his hands from behind upon the pistols which I wore in my belt, trying, by way of experiment, whether I was able to use them notwithstanding his grasp; but turning sharply round, I freed myself from his hold, and told him that no effeminate person like himself should take me. He was a cunning and insidious fellow, and I trusted him the least of our Kél-owí friends. Ánnur warned us that the freebooters intended to carry off the camels that we ourselves were riding, in the night; and it was fortunate that we had provided for the emergency, and were able to fasten them to strong iron rings.
While keeping the first watch during the night, I was enabled by the splendid moonlight to address a few lines in pencil to my friends at home.
Thursday, August 22.—The Kél-owí having had some difficulty in finding their camels, we did not move at an early hour. To our great astonishment, we crossed the rocky bed of the torrent, and entered an irregular defile, where a little further on we passed another pond of rain-water. When at length we emerged from the rocks, we reached a very high level, whence we had a clear prospect over the country before us. Four considerable ranges of mountains were clearly distinguishable in the distance, forming an ensemble of which the accompanying sketch will give an idea. We then entered valleys clothed with a fine fresh verdure sprinkled with flowers, and with a luxuriant vegetation such as we had not seen before. The senna-plant (Cassia senna) appeared in tolerable quantity. Mountains and peaks were seen all around, in a great variety of forms; and at twenty minutes past nine we had a larger mountain mass on one side, from which a dry watercourse, marked by a broad line of herbage issued and crossed our route.
Having here allowed our camels a little feeding, we entered upon gravelly soil with projecting blocks of granite, and then went on ascending through a succession of small plains and valleys, till we reached Erazar-n-Gébi, among the splendid vegetation of which we first observed the abísga, or Capparis sodata, called siwák or lirák by the Arabs, an important bush, the currant-like fruit of which is not only eaten fresh, but also dried, and laid up in store, while the root affords that excellent remedy for the teeth which the Mohammedans, in imitation of their prophet, use to a great extent. The root, moreover, at least on the shores of the Tsád, by the process of burning, affords a substitute for salt. It is the most characteristic bush or tree of the whole region of transition between the desert and the fertile regions of Central Africa, between the twentieth and the fifteenth degree of northern latitude; and in the course of my travels I saw it nowhere of such size as on the northern bank of the Isa or Niger, between Timbúktu and Gágho, the whole ground which this once splendid and rich capital of the Songhay Empire occupied being at present covered and marked out by this celebrated bush. As for the camels, they like very well to feed for a short time upon its fresh leaves, if they have some other herb to mix with it; but eaten alone it soon becomes too bitter for them. In this valley the little berries were not yet ripe; but further on they were ripening, and afforded a slight but refreshing addition to our food.
Leaving the pleasant valley of Gébi by a small opening bordered with large blocks of granite, while peaks of considerable elevation were seen towering over the nearer cliffs, we entered another large valley, called Tághajít, but not quite so rich in vegetation, and encamped here, on an open space, a little after noon. The valley is important as being the first in the frontier region of Aïr or Asben where there is a fixed settlement—a small village of leathern tents, inhabited by people of the tribe of Fade-ang, who preserve a certain independence of the Kél-owí, while they acknowledge the supremacy of the Sultan of Ágades, a state of things of which I shall have occasion to say more in another place.