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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I must principally dwell upon my relations to the vizier el Háj Beshír ben Ahmed Tiráb, upon whose benevolent disposition the whole success of the mission depended, as he ruled entirely the mind of the sheikh, who was more sparing of words, and less intelligent. Mohammed el Beshír, being the son of the most influential man in Bórnu after the sheikh, enjoyed all the advantages which such a position could offer for the cultivation of his mind, which was by nature of a superior cast. He had gone on a pilgrimage to Mekka in the year 1843, by way of Ben-Gházi, when he had an opportunity both of showing the Arabs near the coast that the inhabitants of the interior of the continent are superior to the beasts, and of getting a glimpse of a higher state of civilization than he had been able to observe in his own country.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The most pressing matter which I had with the vizier in the first instance, after my arrival, was to obtain some money, in order to settle, at least partly, the just claims of the late Mr. Richardson’s servants, and to clear off debts which reflected little credit on the Government which had sent us. I could scarcely expect that he would lend me the money without any profit, and was therefore glad to obtain it at the rate of 1000 cowries, or kúngona as they are called in Bórnu, for a dollar, to be paid in Fezzán; and I lost very little by the bargain, as the creditors, well aware of the great difficulty I was in, and acknowledging my desire to pay them off, agreed to receive for every dollar of the sum which they claimed, only 1,280 cowries, while in the market the dollar fetched a much higher price. Indeed it was most grateful to my feelings to be enabled, on the 13th of April, to distribute among the eight creditors 70,000 shells; and it was the more agreeable, as the more arrogant among them, seeing my extreme poverty, had assumed a tone of great insolence towards me, which I found it difficult to support in silence. Being now relieved a little in circumstances, I immediately rid myself of the carpenter, the grandiloquent Son of Jerusalem, and sent him away. He died on the road before reaching Múrzuk—a fact which the natives attributed to the curse which I had given him for having stolen something from my house.

My household now became more comfortable. Already, on the 10th of April, late in the evening, I had removed my quarters from the large empty courtyard in the eastern town, or bílla gedíbe, to a small clay house in the western, or bílla futébe. This dwelling consisted of several small but neatly made rooms, and a yard. Afterwards we succeeded in obtaining in addition an adjoining yard, which was very spacious, and included several thatched huts; and all this together formed “the English house,” which the sheikh was kind enough to concede to the English mission as long as anybody should be left there to take care of it. Its situation was very favourable, as will be seen from the plan on page 380, being situated almost in the middle of the town, and nevertheless out of the way of the great thoroughfares; the internal arrangement is shown in the woodcut on next page.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I visited the great fair, “kásukú letenínbe,” every Monday immediately after my arrival, and found it very interesting, as it calls together the inhabitants of all the eastern parts of Bórnu, the Shúwa and the Koyám, with their corn and butter; the former, though of Arab origin and still preserving in purity his ancient character, always carrying his merchandise on the back of oxen, the women mounted upon the top of it, while the African Koyám employs the camel, if not exclusively, at least with a decided preference;[46] the Kánembú with their butter and dried fish, the inhabitants of Mákari with their tobes (the kóre berné): even Búdduma, or rather Yédiná are very often seen in the market, selling whips made from the skin of the hippopotamus, or sometimes even hippopotamus meat, or dried fish, and attract the attention of the spectator by their slender figures, their small handsome features unimpaired by any incisions, the men generally wearing a short black shirt and a small straw hat, “súni ngáwa,” their neck adorned with several strings of kúngona, or shells, while the women are profusely ornamented with strings of glass beads, and wear their hair in a very remarkable way, though not in so awkward a fashion as Mr. Overweg afterwards observed in the island Belárigo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Camels sell at from eight to twenty dollars. When there is no caravan in preparation, a very tolerable beast may be about for the former price; but when a caravan is about to start, the best will fetch as much as twenty dollars—very rarely more; and a good camel may always be had for about fifteen dollars. Some camels may be bought for four or five dollars each, but cannot be relied on. Very strong travelling horses for servants were during my first visit purchasable for from six to eight dollars, while an excellent horse would not fetch more than thirty dollars; but in the year 1854 the price had risen considerably, in consequence of the exportation of horses, which had formerly been forbidden, having been permitted, and great numbers having been exported to the west—chiefly to Múniyo, Kátsena, and Márádi. A first-rate horse of foreign race, however, is much dearer, and will sometimes fetch as much as three hundred dollars. I shall have another opportunity of speaking of the horses of Bórnu, which is rather an interesting and important subject, as the breed is excellent, and, besides being very handsome and of good height, they bear fatigue marvellously—a fact of which one of my own horses gave the best proof, having carried me during three years of almost incessant fatigue on my expedition to Kánem, to the Músgu country, to Bagírmi, to Timbúktu, and back to Kanó, where my poor dear companion died in December 1854: and let it be taken into consideration that, though I myself am not very heavy, I constantly carried with me a double-barrelled gun, one or two pairs of pistols, a quantity of powder and shot, several instruments, my journals, and generally even my coffee-pot and some little provision.

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

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

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