At length I had reached the capital of Ádamáwa, having had altogether a very lucky and successful journey; but now all depended upon the manner in which I should be received in this place: for although it was quite enough to have successfully penetrated so far, after having discovered and crossed the upper course of that large river, about the identity of which with the Chadda there could be little doubt, I entertained the hope that I might be allowed to penetrate further south, and investigate at least part of the basin of the river. I had heard so much about the fertile character of those regions, that I was intensely desirous to see something of them.

It was an unfavourable circumstance that we arrived on a Friday, and just during the heat of the day. The streets were almost deserted; and no person met us in order to impart to us, by a friendly welcome, a feeling of cheerfulness and confidence.

Yóla is a large open place, consisting, with a few exceptions, of conical huts surrounded by spacious courtyards, and even by cornfields, the houses of the governor and those of his brothers being alone built of clay. Keeping along the principal street, we continued our march for a mile and a quarter before we reached the house of the governor, which lies on the west side of a small open area, opposite the mosque, a flat oblong, building, or rather hall, enclosed with clay walls, and covered with a flat thatched roof a little inclined on one side. Having reached this place, my companions fired a salute, which, considering the nature of Bíllama’s mission, and the peculiar character of the governor, which this officer ought to have known, and perhaps also since it happened to be Friday, was not very judicious.

Be this as it may, the courtiers or attendants of the governor, attracted by the firing, came out one after another, and informed us that their master must go to the mosque to say his midday prayers[67] before he could attend to us or assign us quarters. We therefore dismounted and sat down in the scanty shade of a jéja or caoutchouc-tree, which adorns the place between the palace and the mosque, while a great number of people, amounting to several hundreds, gradually collected, all eager to salute me and shake hands with me. Fortunately, it was not long before Láwl came out of his palace and went into the mosque; and then I obtained a few moments’ respite, the people all following him, with the exception of the young ones, who very luckily found the camels a worthier object of their curiosity than me. It had been my intention to salute the governor when he was crossing the place, but I was advised not to do so, as it might interfere with his devotional feelings.

The prayer was short; and when it was over I was surrounded by much larger numbers than before, and, being fatigued and hungry, I felt greatly annoyed by the endless saluting and shaking of hands. At length we were ordered to take up our quarters in the house of Ardo Ghámmawa, a brother of our fellow-traveller Íbrahíma; but this being close to the east end of the town, we were not much pleased with the arrangement, as it not only obliged us for the moment to return the whole way we had come, but also for the future deprived us of an unreserved and friendly intercourse with the governor. This was not calculated to inspire us with confidence as to the success of our proceedings.

It was past two o’clock in the afternoon when at length I reached my quarters and took possession of a large, well-ventilated, and neat “záure,” or hall, the walls of which were all painted. In the inner courtyard there was also a very neat and snug little hut, but that was all, and we had great trouble in obtaining quarters for Bú-Sʿad and the Mʿallem in some of the neighbouring courtyards. I felt rather fatigued and not quite at my ease, and therefore could not much enjoy a dish of an extremely good pudding of bairi or sorghum, with excellent clear butter, and a large bowl of milk; but nevertheless, although a storm, accompanied with much rain, broke out in the evening and rendered the air rather humid, I remained the whole night where I was, instead of retiring into the well-protected though rather sultry hut.

Saturday, June 21.—In the morning I selected my presents for the governor, the principal part of which consisted of a very handsome red cloth bernús, which we had found among the things left by the late Mr. Richardson; but when we were ready to go we received the information that Láwl was in his fields, and that we could not see him. Meanwhile I received a visit from an Arab from the far-distant west, with whom I had made acquaintance in Kúkawa, and who had given me some very valuable information. It was el Mukhtár, of the tribe of the Idésan in Bághena, who had previously paid a visit to Ádamáwa, and was well acquainted with the country. It is always very pleasant for a traveller to meet another roving spirit somewhere again, particularly in a country like Central Africa. Having acknowledged his visit by the gift of a knife and a little frankincense, I presented our host, the Ardo Ghámmawa, with a fine “ríga gíwa” (an “elephant-shirt”)—that is to say, one of those enormous wide black shirts made only in Núpe, and which was one of the few articles which I had been able to provide in Kanó for the furtherance of my plans. The family of the Ardo had formerly been settled in Ghámmawa, in the south-western province of Bórnu, but, when the Fúlbe were driven back from that country, emigrated and settled here. But this man still bears the title “Ardo Ghámmawa”—“the mayor of (the Fúlbe community of) Ghámmawa.”

Having been told that the governor had returned to his palace, we mounted on horseback about ten o’clock, and, preceded by the Ardo Ghámmawa, returned the long way to the lamórde or palace; but after waiting on the damp ground, exposed to the sun for more than an hour, we were told that we could not see him, and were obliged to return with our present. I was greatly vexed, and felt, in consequence, my fever increasing, especially as another very heavy storm broke out in the afternoon, when the air became quite chilly. However, I was somewhat cheered by making acquaintance in the afternoon with an Arab from Mokha, of the name of Mohammed ben Áhmed, who styled himself sheríf, most probably rather pleonastically; but, apart from such pretension, he was an amiable and most interesting man, who had travelled for many years over the whole eastern coast of the continent between Mombása and Sofála. He was the first to satisfy my curiosity with a description of the celebrated Lake Nyassa as an eyewitness. He had even visited Bombay and Madras.

Sunday, June 22.—In consequence of the information received from Ardo Ghámmawa that to-day we were certainly to see the governor, we got ready at an early hour, taking with us also a present for his brother Mansúr, who had made himself expressly a candidate for a present, by sending me, the day before, a small pot of honey. While we were passing his house, he was coming out to pay his respects to his brother. We made a short halt and exchanged compliments with him; and when, on reaching the area before the governor’s house, we had dismounted and were sitting down in the shade of the tree, he walked most benignly and frankly up, and sat down in front of me. We then entered the palace; and having waited a short time in the segífa or záure, which here was formed by a spacious flat-roofed room supported by massive square pillars, we were called into the presence of the governor.

Mohammed Láwl, son of Mʿallem Ádama, was sitting in a separate hall, built of clay, and forming, for this country, quite a noble mansion. From without especially, it has a stately, castle-like appearance, while inside, the hall was rather encroached upon by quadrangular pillars two feet in diameter, which supported the roof, about sixteen feet high, and consisting of a rather heavy entablature of poles in order to withstand the violence of the rains. The governor was very simply dressed, and had nothing remarkable in his appearance, while his face, which was half covered by a somewhat dirty shawl, had an indifferent expression. Besides him there were none present but Mansúr and a mʿallem.

Having, as the first European that had ever visited his country with the distinct purpose to enter into friendly relations with him, paid him my respects on behalf of my countrymen, I delivered my letter of introduction from Sheikh ʿOmár, who in a few but well-chosen lines introduced me to him as a learned and pious Christian, who wandered about to admire the works of the Almighty Creator, and on this account cherished an ardent desire to visit also Adamáwa, of the wonders of which I had heard so much. Láwl read it, and, evidently not quite displeased with its contents, although he took umbrage at some of the expressions, handed it silently over to the mʿallem and Mansúr. Hereupon Bíllama delivered his letters, of which not only the contents, but even the very existence had been totally unknown to me. They were three in number, one from the sheikh himself, one from Malá Ibrám, the former possessor of the southern province of Bórnu, and one from Kashélla ʿAli Déndal, or Ladán, the officer who by his late predatory incursion had given grounds for complaint.

As soon as these various letters were read, all of which laid claim, on the side of Bórnu, to the territory of Kófa and Kóbchi, a storm arose, and in a fit of wrath Láwl reproached my companion with daring to come forward with such pretensions—he, who was himself well acquainted with the country and with the point in dispute. If Sheikh ʿOmár wished for discord, well: he was ready; and they would harass each other’s frontier-provinces by reciprocal incursions. Having given vent to his feelings towards Bíllama, his anger turned upon me; and he told me to my face that I had quite different reasons for coming into his country from those stated in Sheikh ʿOmár’s letter; referring to some ambiguous words in Malá Ibrám’s writing in which that officer stated “that, with regard to me, the objects of my journey to Ádamáwa were a perfect secret to him.” Now I must confess, after all my acquaintance with the politics of these people, and notwithstanding all Háj Beshír’s kindness and benevolence towards me, that I think the Bórnu diplomatists quite capable of a little double dealing; that is to say, I suspect that they were willing to make use of me to frighten the governor of Ádamáwa. Perhaps also they were afraid lest, if I should succeed in Ádamáwa, I might not return to their country. I shall have to mention similar circumstances on my journey to Bagírmi. Viewing matters in this light, I wrote from Kúkawa, requesting Her Majesty’s Government to inform the Sheikh of Bórnu that it was their distinct desire that we should penetrate onwards, and that he would confer an obligation upon them by facilitating the execution of our plans.

Be this as it may, after a long dispute with regard to the boundaries, in which my friend from Mokha, and a learned native of Wadáy, Móde ʿAbd Alláhi, who was employed by Láwl as a sort of secretary of state for foreign affairs, took part, I, with my party, was ordered to withdraw for a time. After sitting for full two hours on the damp ground outside, we received an intimation that we might return home. Thus I had to return with my presents a second time to my quarters; and of course I was greatly vexed. However, several people who saw my emotion endeavoured to console me; and Mansúr, who before we left came out of his brother’s audience-hall, entered into conversation with me, and assured me that this unkind treatment in no way related to me, but that it was only intended for Bíllama, the officer of Bórnu. There was present also the very amiable mʿallem whom I had met in Saráwu Fulfúlde, and who had come after us; and I felt sorry that I was not disposed to answer his well-meant discourse in the manner it deserved.

When we reached Mansúr’s house he invited us to dismount, and entering the interior of his wide and neat dwelling we had a long and animated conversation, when I explained to him in a deliberate manner that such treatment did not offend me on my own account, but on account of the Government—the very first and most powerful in the world—which had sent me; that instead of coming with hostile intentions, as was imputed to me, I had come with the friendly design of paying my respects to the governor on behalf of the British sovereign, and to present him with a few specimens of our products and manufactures; that I had, no doubt, at the same time an intense desire to see their country, as it was the avowed purpose of Europeans in general, and of the English in particular, to become acquainted, and to open intercourse, with all parts of God’s creation.

Mansúr explained to me, in return, that they well knew that I had not come to make war upon them, although Láwl, in the first fit of his anger, scarcely seemed to suspect anything less than that, “but that they were vexed because I had come to them under the protection of the Bórnu people, their enemies.” A letter from the Sultan of Stambúl, or even from my own sovereign, would have recommended me much more advantageously. The sheikh had expressly designated me as one recommended and protected by the Porte, and Bú-Sʿad had mentioned, with a slight disregard of the real facts, that through inadvertence only I had left both letters, as well that from the Sultan of Stambúl, as from the English sovereign, in Kúkawa. Now I certainly had with me a treaty written in Arabic, such as it was desirable that the governor of Ádamáwa should subscribe; but to produce this under existing circumstances would have been absurd, especially as it did not emanate directly from the Government, and was not authenticated, either by seal or in any other way, and I thought it better not to mention it. It was no bad policy on the part of Bú-Sʿad to represent me as sent on a special mission by the British Government to the Fúlbe princes, and as obliged only by the death of my companion to deviate from my intended course, in order to supply his place in Kúkawa.

Meanwhile it was past midday; and after a stormy night the sun shone forth with overpowering force, while we sat all the while in an open courtyard without the least protection. On reaching my quarters, I was so exhausted and ill that I thought I could do nothing better than take without delay a powerful emetic, after which I felt much better, but rather weak. Having somewhat restored my spirits by a conversation with Mohammed ben Áhmed, I retired into the close hut, and had a sound sleep.

Monday having passed quietly, with the exception of a great many people calling for “laiya” or charms, and for medicines, Tuesday the 24th arrived, when it was my destiny to leave this country, which I had but just entered, and to retrace my steps over the long and infested road which I had lately travelled.

I felt tolerably well in the morning, but afterwards became very ill, and unfortunately took too weak a dose of medicine. In this state I had a visit from two very handsome and amiable young Fúlbe, and in my rather morose mood refused their urgent request, made in the most simple and confidential way, to say the “fat-ha,” or the opening prayer of the Kurán, with them. I have always regretted my refusal, as it estranged from me a great many people; and although many Christians will object to repeat the prayer of another creed, yet the use of a prayer of so general an import as the introductory chapter to the Kurán ought to be permitted to every solitary traveller in these regions, in order to form a sort of conciliatory link between him and the natives.

After some other visitors had come and gone, I received, about ten o’clock, a formal visit from Móde ʿAbdalláhi, the foreign secretary, and my friend from Mokha, in the name of the governor. Having moistened their organs with a cup of coffee, they acquitted themselves of their message in the following terms: “The sultan”—all these provincial governors bear the title of sultan—“had ordered them,” they said, “to beg me to accept his most respectful regards, and to inform me that he was nothing but a slave of the sultan of Sókoto, and that I was a far greater man than himself. As such a man had never before come to his country, he was afraid of his liege lord, and begged me to retrace my steps whither I had come; but if in course of time I should return with a letter from Sókoto, he would receive me with open arms, would converse with me about all our science, and about our instruments, without reserve, and would show me the whole country.”

To this message, which was certainly couched in very modest and insinuating terms, I answered that Mohammed Láwl, so far from being a slave of the sultan of Sókoto, was renowned far and wide as the almost independent governor of a large province; that the fame of his father Ádama, as a nobly born, learned Púllo, extended far and wide throughout Tekrúr, or Negroland, and had even reached our own country; that it was absurd to argue that I was greater than himself, and that on this account he could not receive me on his own responsibility, but was obliged to refer my suit to his liege lord in Sókoto. I brought forward the examples of Kátsena and Kanó, especially the latter place, in which, though it was the seat of a governor dependent on the Emír el Múmenín, in the same way as the governor of Ádamáwa, I had long resided, without any representations being made to the sovereign lord. “Oh! but the relations of Kátsena and Kanó,” said the messengers of the governor, “are entirely different from those of this province. These are large and busy thoroughfares for all the world, while Ádamáwa is a distant territory in the remotest corner of the earth, and still a fresh unconsolidated conquest.” There was certainly some truth in this last remark; and whatever I might say to the contrary, the question was decided, and all reasoning was vain.

The two messengers having gone through their business in this way, informed me that they were only the forerunners of the real messenger, Mansúr, the brother of the governor. This was very pleasant news to me; and although, after this shock of disappointment, I felt extremely ill and weak, I rose from my couch, and went to receive Mansúr when he arrived at the door of the hut. He then officially, and in a very feeling manner, confirmed all that Móde ʿAbdalláhi and the sheríf Mohammed had said, and expressed his deep regret that I was not allowed to stay. When he was going, I handed to his servants the little present destined for him, which consisted of twenty-five drʿa of striped Manchester, a pair of English razors, scissors, a looking-glass, a parcel of cloves, a little jáwi, or benzoin, and a small piece of camphor.

Mansúr had been gone a little while when I received information that the governor had sent me a horse and two slaves as a present, with the intimation that I might likewise let him have the present which I had brought with me for him. But this I refused to do, declaring that I could not, under the present circumstances, either accept from him or give him anything, not having come as a merchant, to barter with him, but as the messenger of another powerful sovereign, to treat with him on friendly terms. My servant, Bú-Sʿad, who, in the covetousness of his heart, already fancied himself in the possession of the two slaves, whom he knew well I myself could not accept, but whom he thought I would give up to him, went so far as to declare that, as the present had come from my sovereign, I had no alternative but to bestow it. But seeing that I was firm, the messengers went away, and soon after a horseman arrived with the order for me to leave the town instantly.

Meanwhile, during all this negotiation and dispute, I had become extremely weak, and the excitement had brought on a very severe fit of fever. Indeed, I scarcely thought that I should be able to sit on horseback, and to bear the sun, it being then just noon, and the sun shining forth with great power. Nevertheless I got my things ready; but having left my quarters a little too soon, and being obliged to wait some time for the other people, I became so weak that I could no longer keep on my feet, but lay down on the ground till my companions arrived. Sitting then firmly in my large Arab stirrups, and holding on to the pommel, I proceeded; and though I fainted twice, I soon regained some strength, a slight breeze having arisen, which greatly mitigated the burning heat.

Numbers of people accompanied me, expressing their grief and sorrow at my abrupt departure. By my refusing to write laiya, or to say the fat-ha, I had estranged many a friendly disposed native, and by my obstinacy I had incurred the displeasure of their master; yet many of the people openly disapproved of his conduct towards me.

An immense quantity of rain having fallen during my stay here, the country appeared to me much more beautiful now than when we came, and full of fine cattle; and I felt so refreshed that I considered myself able to go as far as Ribágo, a ride of six hours, at a slow rate.

Bíllama behaved exceedingly well; for when my treacherous servant Bú-Sʿad, who was afraid lest Mohammed Láwl should wreak his anger upon me on the road, intimated to him that, “if anything of that sort should happen, they of course were Moslemín”—thus indicating that they could not defend me against those of their own creed, but should leave me to my fate,—he indignantly left his company, and rode up to me. Thus, without any accident, except that all my luggage was once more wetted through while passing the deep water of the Máyo Bínti, we reached the friendly village, where without ceremony I took up my quarters in the well-known courtyard of our former host. But, before proceeding further on my journey back, I must try to make the reader better acquainted with the country, though the abrupt way in which I was obliged to leave it allows me only, in most cases, to speak from the information of the natives.

Yóla is the capital of an extensive province, called by foreigners generally, and by the conquering Fúlbe in diplomatic language, Ádamáwa, but the real name of which is Fúmbiná. Indeed Ádamáwa is quite a new name given to the country (exactly as I stated in my report sent to Europe some years ago) in honour of Mʿallem Ádama, the father of the present governor, who succeeded in founding here a new Mohammedan empire on the ruins of several smaller pagan kingdoms, the most considerable of which was that of Kókomi. Whether what the people used to say be true, that the name of the wife of this officer was Ádama too, I am not able positively to decide.[68]

Yóla is quite a new settlement, called by this name after the princely quarter of the town of Kanó,—the former capital, of which Denham’s expedition heard some faint report, being Gúrin. Yóla is situated in a swampy plain, and is bordered on the north side by an inlet of the river, the inundation of which reaches close to that quarter where I was living. The town is certainly not less than three miles long from east to west. It seems probable that there are different names for the different quarters; but my stay was too short to allow me to learn them. The courtyards are large and spacious, but often contain only a single hut, the whole area being sown with grain during the rainy season. All the huts are built with clay walls, on account of the violence of the rains, and are tolerably high. Only the governor and his elder brothers possess large establishments, with dwellings built entirely of clay. Notwithstanding its size, the place can hardly contain more than twelve thousand inhabitants.

It has no industry; and the market, at least during the time of my stay there, was most insignificant and miserably supplied; but certainly during the season of field labours, as I have already had occasion to observe, all the markets in Negroland are less important than at other times of the year. The most common objects in the market, which find ready sale, are túrkedí, beads, and salt,[69] while other articles, such as striped Manchester, calico, cloth bernúses, are generally sold privately to the wealthier people. The only articles of export at present are slaves and ivory. Four good túrkedí, bought in Kanó for 1800 or 2000 kurdí each, will generally purchase a slave; and a túrkedí will often buy an elephant’s tusk of tolerable size.

Slavery exists on an immense scale in this country; and there are many private individuals who have more than a thousand slaves. In this respect the governor of the whole province is not the most powerful man, being outstripped by the governors of Chámba and Kóncha—for this reason, that Mohammed Láwl has all his slaves settled in rúmde or slave-villages, where they cultivate grain for his use or profit, while the above-mentioned officers, who obtain all their provision in corn from subjected pagan tribes, have their whole host of slaves constantly at their disposal; and I have been assured that some of the head slaves of these men have as many as a thousand slaves each under their command, with whom they undertake occasional expeditions for their masters. I have been assured also that Mohammed Láwl receives every year in tribute, besides horses and cattle, about five thousand slaves, though this seems a large number.

The country of Fúmbiná is about two hundred miles long in its greatest extent, running from south-west to north-east, while its shortest diameter seems to reach from north-west to south-east, and scarcely ever exceeds seventy or eighty miles; but this territory is as yet far from being entirely subjected to the Mohammedan conquerors, who in general are only in possession of detached settlements, while the intermediate country, particularly the more mountainous tracts, are still in the hands of the pagans. The people in this part of the country are engaged in constant warfare. While the country north from the Bénuwé, between Yóla and Hamárruwa, is entirely independent, and inhabited by warlike pagan tribes, the best-subjected tract seems to be that between the Wándalá and the Músgu country, where the settlements of the conquering tribe are very compact. I must observe, however, that I am not quite clear as to the exact manner in which those distant settlements are dependent on the governor of Ádamáwa. That part of the country seems to deserve a great deal of interest, and to be destined to become a province by itself. It is sometimes designated by the special name of “Jemmára,” a name certainly of general import, and meaning nothing but “the congregation”—a corruption, in short, of Jemmáʿa.

The country is certainly one of the finest of Central Africa, irrigated as it is by numerous rivers, among which the Bénuwé and the Fáro are the most important, and being diversified with hill and dale. In general, however, it is flat, rising gradually towards the south, from an elevation[70] of about eight hundred feet, along the middle course of the Bénuwé, to fifteen hundred feet or more, and broken by separate hills or more extensive groups of mountains; but, as far as I know, there is not here a single example of large mountain masses. Mount Alantíka, of which I had a fine view from several points, though at a considerable distance, is considered as the most massive and elevated mountain in the whole country; and this is an entirely detached mountain, at the utmost fifty miles in circumference, and elevated certainly not more than eight thousand five hundred or nine thousand feet above the plain from which it rises. No doubt the Bénuwé may be presumed to have its sources in a mountainous tract of country; but of the uppermost course of this river I was not able to obtain the least information, while I have been able to lay down its lower course with great approximative certainty.[71] Yet, although the elevation of the country is in general the same, the nature of the different districts varies greatly: thus in Chámba, apparently on account of the neighbourhood of Mount Alantíka, which attracts the clouds, the rainy season is said to set in as early as January, so that by the end of April or beginning of May the first crop is ripe, while in Yóla, and in the country in general, the rains rarely begin before March.

The grain most commonly grown in the country is Holcus sorghum; but in this respect also there is a great difference between the districts. Thus, the country of the Mbúm round Ngáundere scarcely produces anything but rógo, or yams, which form the daily, and almost sole food of the inhabitants. Meat is so dear there that a goat will often fetch the price of a female slave. Ground-nuts (Arachis hypogæa) are plentiful both in the eastern and the western districts. A tolerable quantity of cotton called “póttolo” in Ádamáwa, is cultivated: but indigo or “chachári” is very rare, and is hardly cultivated anywhere but in Saráwu and Máruwa; and this is very natural, as the Fúlbe do not value coloured shirts.

With regard to exuberance of vegetation, Tibáti seems to be one of the richest places; there both kinds of the banana, or ayabáje, the gónda, or papaya, “du-kúje,” several species of the gúro tree, the Pandanus, the Kajilia, the monkey-bread tree, or Adansonia, the “rími,” or Bombax, and numerous other kinds are found. Of the palm tribe, the deléb-palm, or gigiña, and the Elaïs Guineensis, are frequent, but strictly limited to certain localities, while the date-tree (called by the Fúlbe of Ádamáwa by the beautiful name “tannedaráje”[72]) is very rare, and, except a few specimens in Yóla and Búndang, scarcely to be met with. Among the bushes, the Palma Christi or Ricinus, is extremely common. Altogether, the predominant tree in the southern provinces of Ádamáwa seems to be the banana. There are hot springs in the country of the Bakr Yemyem, about three days’ south from Kóncha, which are said to issue from the west foot of a mountain stretching from east to west, and to have a very high temperature; the water is reported to be palatable.

Of animals, the elephant is exceedingly frequent, not only the black or grey, but also a yellow species. The rhinoceros is often met with, but only in the eastern part of the country. East from the Bénuwé the wild bull is very common. The most singular animal seems to be the ayú, which lives in the river, and in some respects resembles the seal;[73] it comes out of the river in the night, and feeds on the fresh grass growing on its banks.

With regard to domestic animals, cattle were evidently introduced by the Fúlbe some two or three hundred years ago. There is an indigenous variety of ox, but quite a distinct species, not three feet high, and of dark-grey colour; this is called máturú. The native horse is small and feeble; the best horses are brought from the northern districts, chiefly from Úba.