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

I was musing over the fate of the native races of this country, when the governor, with a numerous suite, came to pay me a visit. Neither he nor any of his companions were dressed with any degree of elegance, or even cleanliness. I had endeavoured in vain to obtain information from my companions as to the period when the Fúlbe had begun to emigrate into this country; but they were unable to give me any other answer, than that they had been settled in the country from very ancient times, and that not only the fathers but even the grandfathers of the present generation had inhabited the same region as cattle-breeders, “berroróji.” Neither the governor nor any of his people were able to give me more precise information, so that I was obliged to set my hopes upon the capital, where I was more likely to find a man versed in the history of his tribe. I then communicated to my visitor my wish to ascend the ridge, which overlooks the place, and on the top of which, according to Mohámmedu, a spring bubbled up between the rocks. The governor advised me to defer the excursion till the morrow, but as the weather was fine at the time, and as at this season it was very doubtful whether it would be so the next morning, I expressed a wish to obtain at once a view at least over the opposite mountain-chain. He then told me that I might do as I liked, and followed me with his whole suite. The ridge, on this side at least, consisted entirely of enormous blocks of granite heaped one upon the other in wild confusion, and making the ascent extremely difficult, nay, impossible, without ropes, so that, with the utmost trouble, we reached the height of a little more than a hundred feet, which gave me, however, an advantageous position for obtaining a view over the broad valley and the mountain range beyond, of which, on my return journey, I made a sketch, which is represented in the woodcut on page 429.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My companions were greatly astonished to find that, since they went to Kúkawa, some Fúlbe families had settled here: for formerly none but native pagans lived in the village. It was, therefore, necessary that we should address ourselves to this ruling class; and after we had waited some time in the shade of some caoutchouc-trees, a tall, extremely slender Púllo, of a very noble expression of countenance, and dressed in a snow-white shirt, made his appearance, and after the usual exchange of compliments, and due inquiry on the part of my companions after horse, cattle, mother, slaves, and family[55], conducted us to a dwelling not far from the eastern foot of the rock, consisting of several small huts, with a tall gigiña in the middle of its courtyard, which was never deserted by some large birds of the stork family,—most probably some European wanderers. However, it had the great disadvantage of being extremely wet, so that I preferred staying outside; and going to some distance from the huts, I laid myself down in the shade of a tree, where the ground was comparatively dry. The weather had been very cool and cheerless in the morning, and I was glad when the sun at length came forth, increasing the interest of the landscape, of which I took a view.[56]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The reason why the corn had failed was, that most of the men had gone to the war last year; the turbulent state of the country thus operating as a great drawback upon the cultivation of the ground. I must also observe how peculiarly the different qualities of the soil in neighbouring districts are adapted for different species of grain; while in Mbutúdi, as I said, millet, géro, or Pennisetum typhoïdeum, was cultivated almost exclusively, here it was the dáwa, “báiri” in Fulfúlde, or sorghum, and principally the red sort, or “báiri bodéri.” Having restored our vital strength with this famous pap of ground-nuts, and having filled our pockets, and the nose-bags of the horses too, with the remains of the great basket, we set out again on our journey in the afternoon, for it appeared to me evident that none of my companions was fond of a strict ground-nut diet, and hence would rather risk a storm than a supper of this same dish. It had become our general rule to finish our day’s journey in the forenoon, as the tempest generally set in in the afternoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Notwithstanding the scanty light falling into the interior of the hut, through the narrow doorway, it was also painted, (c) in this respect surpassing its sister hut in the harmony of its colours, which formed broad alternate bands of white and brown, and gave the whole a very stately and finished character. The whole arrangement of these two huts bore distinct testimony to a greatly developed sense of domestic comfort. In the wall of the courtyard, between (b) and (c), there was a small backdoor, raised above the ground, and of diminutive size (f), apparently intended for admitting female visitors, without obliging them to pass through the parlour, and at the same time showing much confidence in the discretion of the female department. In the courtyard were two large-sized jars, (g) the larger one being the bázam or corn-jar, and the smaller (d) the gébam or water-jar. In the corner, formed between the hut (a) and the wall of the courtyard, was the “fúgodí,” or kitchen, on a small scale.

The house belonged to a private man, who was absent at the time. From the outer courtyard, which, as I have observed, was spacious, and fenced only with corn-stalks, there was an interesting panorama over a great extent of country to the south, and I was enabled to take a great many angles. From this place also I made the sketch of a cone (page 442) which seemed to me very picturesque, but the exact name of which I could not learn.

Saráwu is the most elevated place on the latter part of this route, although the highest point of the water-partition, between the basin of the Tsád and that of the so-called Niger, as I stated before, seems to be at the pass north of Úba. The difference between the state of the corn here and in Múbi and thereabout was very remarkable. The crop stood here scarcely a few inches above the ground.[57] The soil also around the place is not rich, the mould being thin upon the surface of the granite, which in many places lies bare. The situation of Saráwu is very important on account of its being the point where the road from Logón and all the north-eastern part of Ádamáwa, which includes some very considerable centres of industry and commerce, particularly Fátawel, the entrepôt of all the ivory trade in these quarters, joins the direct road from Kúkawa to the capital. Cotton is cultivated here to some extent. Ádamáwa is a promising country of colonies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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