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CHAP. XX.

FINAL DEPARTURE FOR SUDÁN.

Thursday, December 12th, 1850. Safer 7th, 1266.At length the day broke when we were to move on and get nearer the longed-for object of our journey, though we were aware that our first progress would be slow. But before we departed from this region, which had become so familiar to us, I wished to take a last glimpse down the valley towards Tintéllust, and wandered towards the offshoots of Mount Búnday, which afforded me a fine prospect over the whole valley up to that beautiful mountain-mass which forms so characteristic a feature in the configuration of the whole country. The hills which I ascended consisted of basalt, and formed a low ridge, which was separated from the principal mountain-mass by a hollow of sandstone formation. Having bade farewell to the blue mountains of Tintéllust, I took leave of the charming little valley Ofáyet, which, having been a few moments previously a busy scene of life, was now left to silence and solitude.

Late in the morning we began to move, but very slowly, halting every now and then. At length the old chief himself came up, walking like a young man before his méheri, which he led by the nose-cord; and the varied groups composing the caravan began to march more steadily. It was a whole nation in motion, the men on camels or on foot, the women on bullocks or on asses, with all the necessaries of the little household, as well as the houses themselves,—a herd of cattle, another of milk-goats, and numbers of young camels running playfully alongside, and sometimes getting between the regular lines of the laden animals. The ground was very rocky and rugged, and looked bare and desolate in the extreme, the plain being strewn for a while with loose basaltic stones, like the plain of Tághist.

Several high peaks characterize this volcanic region; and after having left to our right the peak called Ebárrasa, we encamped, a little before noon, at the north-eastern foot of a very conspicuous peak called Teléshera, which had long attracted my attention. We had scarcely chosen our ground when I set out on foot in order to ascend this high mountain, from which I expected to obtain a view over the eastern side of the picturesque mass of the Eghellál; but its ascent proved very difficult, chiefly because I had not exerted my strength much during our long stay in this country. The flanks of the peak, after I had ascended the offshoots, which consisted of sandstone, were most precipitous and abrupt, and covered with loose stones, which gave way under my feet, and often carried me a long way down. The summit consisted of perpendicular trachytic pillars, of quadrangular and almost regular form, 2½ feet in thickness, as if cut by the hand of man, some of them about one hundred feet high, while others had been broken off at greater or less height. It is at least 1500 feet above the bottom of the valley. The view was interesting, although the sky was not clear; I was able to take several angles; but the western flank of the Eghellál, which I was particularly anxious to obtain a sight of, was covered by other heights.

Beyond the branch-wádi which surrounds this mountain on the south side, there is a ridge ranging to a greater length, and rising from the ground with a very precipitous wall; this was examined by Mr. Overweg, and found to consist likewise of trachyte interspersed with black basaltic stone, and crystals of glassy felspar. Having attained my purpose, I began my retreat, but found the descent more troublesome than the ascent, particularly as my boots were torn to pieces by the sharp stones; and the fragments giving way under my feet, I fell repeatedly. I was quite exhausted when I reached the tent; but a cup of strong coffee soon restored me. However, I never afterwards on my whole journey felt strong enough to ascend a mountain of moderate elevation.

Friday, December 13th.Starting rather late, we continued through the mountainous region, generally ascending, while a cold wind made our old friend the chief shiver and regard with feelings of envy my thick black bernús, although he had got bernúses enough from us not only to protect him against cold, but us too against any envious feeling for the little which was left us. Further on, in several places the granite (which at the bottom of the valley alternates with sandstone) was perfectly disintegrated, and had become like meal. Here the passage narrowed for about an hour, when we obtained a view of a long range stretching out before us with a considerable cone lying in front of it. Keeping now over rocky ground, then along the bottom of a valley called Tánegat, about half a mile broad, where we passed a well on our right, we at length reached a mountain-spur starting off from the ridge on our right, and entered a beautiful broad plain stretching out to the foot of a considerable mountain-group, which was capped by a remarkable picturesquely-indented cone called Mári. Here we saw the numerous camels of the salt-caravan grazing in the distance to our left; and after having crossed a small rocky flat, we encamped in the very channel of the torrent, being certain that at this season no such danger as overwhelmed us in the valley Éghazar was to be feared. Ámagay, who was still with us, paid me a visit in the afternoon, and had a cup of coffee; he also came the next morning. Near our encampment were some fine acacia-trees of the species called gáwo, which I shall have to mention repeatedly in my travels.

Saturday, December 14th.We started early, but encamped, after a short march of about six miles, on uneven ground intersected by numbers of small ridges. The reason of the halt was, that the whole of the caravan was to come up and to join together; and our old chief here put on his official dress (a yellow bernús of good quality), to show his dignity as leader of such a host of people.

Salt forms the only article conveyed by this caravan. The form of the largest cake is very remarkable; but it must be borne in mind that the salt in Bílma is in a fluid state, and is formed into this shape by pouring it into a wooden mould. This pedestal or loaf of salt (kántu) is equal to five of the smaller cakes, which are called áserím; and each áserím equals four of the smallest cakes, which are called “fótu.” The bags, made of the leaves of the dúm-palm (or the “kábba”), in which these loaves are packed up, are called “tákrufa.” But the finest salt is generally in loose grains; and this is the only palatable salt, while the ordinary salt of Bílma is very bitter to the European palate, and spoils everything: but the former is more than three times the value of the latter. The price paid in Bílma is but two zékkas for three kántus.

In the evening there was “urgí,” or “éddil” (playing), and “ráwa” or “adéllul” (dancing), all over the large camp of the salt-caravan, and the drummers or “masugánga” were all vying with each other, when I observed that our drummer, Hassan, who was proud of his talent, and used to call for a little present, was quite outdone by the drummer of that portion of the caravan which was nearest to us, who performed his work with great skill, and caused general enthusiasm among the dancing people. The many lively and merry scenes, ranging over a wide district, itself picturesque, and illuminated by large fires in the dusk of evening, presented a cheerful picture of animated native life, looking at which a traveller might easily forget the weak points discoverable in other phases of life in the desert.

Sunday, December 15th.The general start of the united “aïri,” or caravan, took place with great spirit; and a wild enthusiastic cry, raised over the whole extent of the encampment, answered to the beating of the drums. For, though the Kél-owí are greatly civilized by the influence of the black population, nevertheless they are still “half demons,” while the thoroughbred and freeborn Amóshagh (whatever name he may bear, whether Tárki, ba-Ásbenchi, Kindín, or Chapáto) is regarded by all the neighbouring tribes, Arabs as well as Africans, as a real demon (“jin”). Notwithstanding all this uproar, we were rather astonished at the small number of camels laden with salt, which formed Ánnur’s caravan; for they did not exceed two hundred, and their loads in the aggregate would realize in Kanó at the very utmost three thousand dollars, which, if taken as the principal revenue of the chief, seems very little. The whole number of the caravan did not exceed two thousand camels.

However enthusiastically the people had answered to the call of the drums, the loading of the camels took a long time; and the old chief himself had remarkably few people to get ready his train: but the reason probably was, that he was obliged to leave as many people behind as possible for the security of the country. When at length we set out, the view which presented itself was really highly exciting; for here a whole nation was in motion, going on its great errand of supplying the wants of other tribes, and bartering for what they stood in need of themselves. All the drums were beating; and one string of camels after the other marched up in martial order, led on by the “mádogu,” the most experienced and steadfast among the servants or followers of each chief. It was clear that our last night’s encampment had been chosen only on account of its being well protected all around by ridges of rock; for on setting out to-day we had to follow up, in the beginning, a course due west, in order to return into our main direction along the valley. We then gradually began to turn round the very remarkable Mount Mári, which here assumed the figure shown in the sketch. Further on I saw the people busy in digging up a species of edible bulbous roots called “adíllewan” by the Kél-owí. This, I think, besides the “bába,” or “níle” (the Indigofera endecaphylla), the first specimens of which we had observed two days ago shooting up unostentatiously among the herbage, was the most evident proof that we had left the region of the true desert, though we had still to cross a very sterile tract.

Having changed our direction from south to south-west, about noon we entered the highroad coming directly from Ásodi, but which was, in fact, nothing better than a narrow pathway. Here we were winding through a labyrinth of large detached projecting blocks, while Mount Mári presented itself in an entirely different shape. Gradually the bottom of the valley became free from blocks, and we were crossing and recrossing the bed of the watercourse, when we met a small caravan belonging to my friend the Emgédesi Ídder, who had been to Damerghú to buy corn. Shortly afterwards, we encamped at the side of the watercourse, which is called Adóral, and which joins, further downwards, another channel called Wéllek, which runs close along the western range. Here we saw the first specimens of the pendent nests of the weaver bird (Ploceus Abyssiniacus).

While I was filling up my journal in the afternoon, I received a visit from Mohammed Býrji, who had this morning left Tin-téggana; he informed me that the women and the old men whom we had left there had not returned to Tintéllust, but had gone to Tintághalén. All the population of the other villages in the northern districts of Aïr were likewise retreating southwards during the absence of the salt-caravan.

Monday, December 16th.On starting this morning we were glad to find some variety in the vegetation; for instead of the monotonous talha-trees, which with some justice have been called “vegetable mummies,”[197] the whole valley-plain was adorned with beautiful spreading addwa- or tabórak-trees (the Balanites Ægyptiaca), the foliage of which often reached down to the very ground, forming a dense canopy of the freshest green. After winding along, and crossing and recrossing the small channel, the path ascended the rocky ground, and we soon got sight of the mountains of Bághzen, looking out from behind the first mountain-range, from whose southern end a point called Ánfisék rises to a considerable elevation. This higher level, however, was not bare and naked, but overgrown with the “knotted” grass bú-rékkeba and with the addwa- and gawo-tree, while on our left the broad but nevertheless sharply-marked peak of Mount Mári towered over the whole, and gave to the landscape a peculiar character. At an early hour we encamped between buttresses of scattered blocks shooting out of the plain, which seems to stretch to the very foot of the Bághzen, and to be noted pre-eminently as the Plain, “erárar.”

In the afternoon I walked to a considerable distance, first to a hill S.W. from our camp, from which I was able to take several angles, and then to the well. The latter was at the distance of a mile and a half from our tent in a westerly direction, and was carefully walled up with stones; it measured three fathoms and a half to the surface of the water, while the depth of the water itself was at present little less than three fathoms, so that it is evident that there is water here at all seasons. Its name is Álbes. As, on account of our slow travelling, we had been four days without water, the meeting with a well was rather agreeable to us. Between the well and the foot of the mountain there was a temporary encampment of shepherds, who sent a sheep and a good deal of cheese to the old chief.

Here we remained the two following days, in order to repose from the fatigue of our sham travelling! I went once more all over my Emgédesi collection, and made a present to the servants of the mission, of twenty-two zékkas of Bílma dates, which I bought from the people of the caravan; they were all thankful for this little present. I was extremely glad to find that even the Tunisian shushán, when he had to receive orders only from me, behaved much better; and I wrote from his recital a Góber story which, as being characteristic of the imagination of the natives, and illustrating their ancient pagan worship of the dodó, might perhaps prove of interest even to the general reader. The several divisions of the “aïri” came slowly up; among them we observed the Kél-azanéres, the people of Lúsu, the chief himself having gone on in advance, as I observed above.

Thursday, December 19th.Our heavy caravan at length set out again, the camels having now recovered a little from the trying march over the naked desert which divides the mountainous district of Ásben from the “hénderi-Tedá,” the fertile hollow of the Tébu country. It attracted my attention, that the shrubby and thick-leaved “allwot” (the blue Crucifera mentioned before) had ceased altogether; even the eternal bú-rékkeba began to be scarce, while only a few solitary trees were scattered about.

While marching over this dreary plain, we noticed some Tébu merchants, natives of Dírki, with only three camels, who had come with the salt-caravan from Bílma, and were going to Kanó; from them we learnt that a Tébu caravan had started from Kawár for Bórnu at the time of the ʿAïd el kebír. The example of these solitary travellers, indeed, might perhaps be followed with advantage by Europeans also, in order to avoid the country of the Azkár and the insecure border-districts of the Kél-owí, especially if they chose to stay in the Tébu oasis till they had obtained the protection of one of the great men of this country.

For a little while the plain was adorned with talha-trees; but then it became very rugged, like a rough floor of black basalt, through which wound a narrow path, pressing the whole caravan into one long string. At length, at half-past two o’clock in the afternoon, after having traversed extremely rugged ground, we began to descend from this broad basaltic level, and having crossed the dry watercourse of a winter torrent, entered the valley Télliya, which has a good supply of trees, but very little herbage. A cemetery here gave indication of the occasional or temporary residence of nomadic settlers.

On ascending again from the bottom of the valley to a higher level, and looking backwards, we obtained a fine view of Mount Ajúri, at the foot of which lies Chémia, a valley and village celebrated for its date-trees. It was not our fate to see any of those places in Ásben which are distinguished by the presence of this tree—neither the valley just mentioned, nor Iferwán, nor Ír-n-Allem; and a visit to them will form one of the interesting objects of some future traveller in this country. Having kept along the plain for an hour, we encamped at a little distance west from the dry bed of a watercourse running from north to south along the eastern foot of a low basaltic ridge, with a fine display of trees, but a scanty one of herbage. I went to ascend the ridge, supposing it to be connected with the Bághzen, but found that it was completely separated from the latter by a depression or hollow quite bare and naked.

This was the best point from whence to obtain a view over the eastern flank of Mount Bághzen, with its deep crevices or ravines, which seemed to separate the mountain-mass into several distinct groups; and in the evening I made the sketch of it given above.

However, we had full leisure to contemplate this mountain, which is not distinguished by great elevation, the highest peaks being little more than 2000 feet above the plain[198]; but it is interesting, as consisting probably of basaltic formation. We staid here longer than we desired, as we did not find an opportunity to penetrate into the glens in its interior, which, from this place, seem excessively barren, but are said to contain some favoured and inhabited spots, where even corn is reared. But our companions spoke with timorous exclamations of the numbers of lions which infest these retired mountain-passes; and not one of them would offer himself as a companion. The reason of our longer stay in this place was, that our camels had strayed to a very great distance southwards, so that they could not be found in the forenoon of the following day. The blame of letting them stray was thrown upon Hassan, whose inferiority as a drummer I had occasion to notice above. How he was punished Mr. Richardson has described; and I will only add that the handkerchief which he paid, was to be given to the “serkí-n-kárfi”[199] (“the task-master,” properly “the master of the iron” or “of the force”); but the whole affair was rather a piece of pleasantry.

In the morning Mghás, the chief of Téllwa, a fine, sturdy man mounted upon a strong grey horse, passed by, going southward, followed by a long string of camels; and shortly afterwards a small caravan of people of Selúfiet, who had bought corn in Damerghú, passed in the opposite direction.

Saturday, December 21st.The weather was clear and cheerful; and the sun was warmer than hitherto. We went on, and approached a district more favoured by nature, when, having passed an irregular formation in a state of great decomposition, we reached about ten o’clock the valley Unán, or rather a branch-wádi of the chief valley of that name, where dúm-palms began to appear, at first solitary and scattered about, but gradually forming a handsome grove, particularly after the junction with the chief valley, where a thick cluster of verdure, formed by a variety of trees, greeted the eye. There is also a village of the name of Unán, lying on the border of the principal valley a little higher up; and wells occur in different spots. But the valley was not merely rich in vegetation—it was the richest indeed as yet seen on this road—it was also enlivened by man; and after we had met two Íghdalén whom I had known in Ágades, we passed a large troop of Ikádmawen, who were busy watering their camels, cattle, and goats at one of the wells. We also saw here the first specimens of stone houses, which characterize the district to which the valley Unán forms the entrance-hall, if I may use the expression. On its western side is an irregular plain, where a division of the salt-caravan lay encamped.

Proceeding then, after midday we passed by a low white cone on our left, after which the valley, with its variety of vegetation, and animated as it was by numerous herds of goats, made a cheerful impression. Here the remains of stone dwellings became numerous; and further on we passed an entire village consisting of such houses, which, as I was distinctly informed, constituted in former times one of the principal settlements of the Kél-gerés, who were then masters of all the territory as far as the road to Ágades. The whole valley here formed a thick grove of dúm-palms; and stone houses, entire or in ruins, were scattered all about. About three o’clock in the afternoon we left it for an hour, traversing a rocky flat with a low ridge of basalt ranging on our right, when we descended again into the dúm-valley, which had been winding round on the same side, and encamped, at half-past four o’clock in the afternoon, in the midst of very wild and rank vegetation nourished by an immense torrent which occasionally rolls its floods along the channel, and which had left, on the stems of the baggarúwa-trees with which it was lined, evident traces of the depth which it may sometimes attain. The bed of the torrent was thickly overgrown with wild melons.

Although there is no well in the neighbourhood, we were to stay here the two following days, in order to give the camels a good feed. A well, called Tánis-n-tánode, lies lower down the valley, but at a considerable distance. The valley itself runs south-westward: by some it is said to join the Erázar-n-Bargót; but this seems scarcely possible. Numerous flocks of wild pigeons passed over our heads the following morning, looking for water. The monotony of the halt was interrupted, in the course of the day, by the arrival of Hámma, who had been to Áfasás, and by that of Astáfidet, the young titular Kél-owí chief residing in Ásodi, among whose companions or followers was a very intelligent and communicative man of the name of El Hasár, who gave me a great deal of interesting information. All the eminences in the neighbourhood consist of basaltic formation.

Tuesday, December 24th.We again moved on a little, following the rich valley, which in some places reminded me of the scenery of the Upper Nile, the only difference being that here the broad sandy bottom of the watercourse takes the place of the fine river in the scenery of Nubia. We made a short halt on the road, in order to supply ourselves with water from the well which I mentioned before. About noon, the fresh fleshy allwot, which had not been observed by us for several days, again appeared, to the great delight of the camels, which like it more than anything else, and, having been deprived of it for some time, attacked it with the utmost greediness. Two miles and a half further on, where the valley widened to a sort of irregular plain with several little channels, we encamped; there was a profusion of herbage all around.

It was Christmas eve; but we had nothing to celebrate it with, and we were cast down by the sad news of the appearance of the cholera in Tripoli. This we had learned during our march, from a small caravan which had left that place three months previously without bringing us a single line, or even as much as a greeting. The eternal bitter “túwo” was to be devoured to-day also, as we had no means of adding a little festivity to our repast.

We remained here the two following days, and were entertained on the morning of Christmas day by a performance of Astáfidet’s musicians. This was a somewhat cheerful holiday entertainment, although our visitors had not that object in view, but merely plied their talents to obtain a present. There were only two of them, a drummer and a flutist; and though they did not much excel the other virtuosi of the country, whose abilities we had already tested, nevertheless, having regard to the occasion, we were greatly pleased with them. Here I took leave of my best Kél-owí friend, Hámma, a trustworthy man in every respect—except, perhaps, as regards the softer sex—and a cheerful companion, to whom the whole mission, and I in particular, were under great obligations. He, as well as Mohammed Býrji, the youthful grandson of Ánnur, who accompanied him on this occasion, were to return hence with Astáfidet, in order to assist this young titular prince in his arduous task of maintaining order in the country during the absence of the old chief and the greater part of the male population of the north-eastern districts. They were both cheerful, though they felt some sorrow at parting; but they consoled themselves with the hope of seeing me again one day. But, poor fellows, they were both doomed to fall in the sanguinary struggle which broke out between the Kél-gerés and the Kél-owí in 1854.

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CHAP. XXI.

THE BORDER-REGION OF THE DESERT. — THE TAGÁMA.

Friday, December 27th.At length we were to exchange our too easy wandering for the rate of real travelling. Early in the morning a consultation was held with the elder men of the Kél-táfidet, who had come from their villages. We then set out, taking leave of the regions behind us, and looking forward with confidence and hope to the unknown or half-known regions before us.

The valley continued to be well clothed with a profusion of herbage, but it was closely hemmed in on both sides; after a march, however, of four miles and a half, it widened again to more than a mile, and began gradually to lose its character of a valley altogether; but even here the allwot was still seen, although of a stunted and dry appearance. We then left the green hollow, which is the valley Bargót, and I thought we should now enter upon the Hammáda or “ténere;” but after a while the valley again approached close on our left. To my disappointment, we encamped even before noon, at the easy northern slope of the rocky ground, where there is a watering-place called Aghálle. The afternoon, however, passed away very pleasantly, as I had a conversation with the old chief, who honoured me with a visit, and touched on many points of the highest interest.

Saturday, December 28th.Starting at a tolerably early hour, we ascended the slope; but no sooner had we reached the level of the plain than we halted, beating the drum until all the different strings of camels had come up; we then proceeded. At first the plain consisted almost exclusively of gravel overgrown with herbage and allwot, with only now and then a rock seen projecting; but gradually it became more pebbly, and was then intersected by a great many low crests of rock consisting chiefly of gneiss. We gradually ascended towards a low ridge called Abadárjen, remarkable as forming in this district the northern border of the elevated sandy plain, which seems to stretch across a great part of the continent, and forms the real transition-land between the rocky wilderness of the desert and the fertile arable zone of Central Africa. This sandy ledge is the real home of the giraffe and of the Antilope leucoryx.

Just about noon we entered upon this district, leaving the rocky range at less than a mile on our left, and seeing before us a sandy level broken only now and then by blocks of granite thickly overgrown with the “knotted” grass called bú-rékkeba, and dotted with scattered talha-trees. Two miles further on we encamped. A very long ear of géro (Pennisetum typhoïdeum), which was broken from a plant growing wild near the border of the path, was the most interesting object met with to-day, while an ostrich-egg, though accidentally the very first which we had yet seen on this journey, afforded us more material interest, as it enabled us to indulge our palates with a little tasteful hors d’œuvre, which caused us more delight, perhaps, than scientific travellers are strictly justified in deriving from such causes. Our caravan to-day had been joined by Gajére, a faithful servant of Ánnur, who was coming from Ágades, and who, though a stranger at the time, very shortly became closely attached to me, and at present figures among the most agreeable reminiscences of my journey.

Sunday, December 29th.When we started we were surprised at the quantity of hád with which the plain began to be covered. This excellent plant is regarded by the Arab as the most nutritious of all the herbs of the desert, for the camel; and in the western part of that arid zone it seems to constitute its chief food. Numerous footprints of giraffes were seen, besides those of gazelles and ostriches, and towards the end of the march those of the Welwaiji, the large and beautiful antelope called leucoryx, from the skin of which the Tawárek make their large bucklers. Further on, the plain presented some ups and downs, being at times naked, at others well wooded and overgrown with grass. At length, after a good day’s march we encamped.

To-day we made the acquaintance of another native of Middle Sudán, the name of which plays a very important part in the nomenclature of articles of the daily market in all the towns and villages. This was the magariá (called by the Kanúri “kúsulu”), a middle-sized tree with small leaves of olive-green colour, and producing a fruit nearly equal in size to a small cherry, but in other respects more resembling the fruit of the cornel (Cornus), and of light-brown colour. This fruit, when dried, is pounded and formed into little cakes, which are sold all over Háusa as “túwo-n-magariá,” and may be safely eaten in small quantities even by a European, to allay his hunger for a while, till he can obtain something more substantial; for it certainly is not a very solid food, and if eaten in great quantities, has a very mawkish taste.

While the cattle and the asses went on already in the dark, the camels were left out during the night to pick up what food they could; but early in the morning, when they were to be brought back, a great many of Ánnur’s camels could not be found. Hereupon the old chief himself set his people an example; and galloping to the spot where their traces had been lost, he recovered the camels, which were brought in at an early hour. Meanwhile, however, being informed how difficult it would be to obtain water at the well before us, in the scramble of people which was sure to take place, I arranged with Overweg that while I remained behind with Mohammed and the things, he should go on in advance with the Gatróni and Ibrahím to fill the waterskins; and we afterwards had reason to congratulate ourselves on this arrangement, for the well, though spacious and built up with wood, contained at the time but a very moderate supply of muddy water for so large a number of men and beasts. Its name is Terguláwen.

This locality, desolate and bare in the extreme, is considered most dangerous, on account of the continual ghazzias of the Awelímmiden and Kél-gerés, who are sure to surprise and carry off the straggling travellers who, if they would not perish by thirst, must resort to this well. Our whole road from our encampment, for more than seven hours and a half, led over bare, barren sand-hills. The camping-ground was chosen at no great distance beyond the well, in a shallow valley or depression ranging east and west, and bordered by sand-hills on its south side, with a little sprinkling of herbage. The wind, which came down with a cold blast from N.N.E. was so strong, that we had great difficulty in pitching the tent.

December 31st.Last day of 1850. A cold day, and a mountainous country. After we had crossed the sand-hills, there was nothing before us but one flat expanse of sand, mostly bare, and clothed with trees only in favoured spots. The most remarkable phenomenon was the appearance of the feathery bristle, the Pennisetum distichum, which on the road to Ágades begins much further northwards. Indeed, when we encamped, we had some difficulty in finding a spot free from this nuisance, though of course the strong wind carried the seeds to a great distance. All our enjoyment of the last evening of the old year centred in an extra dish of two ostrich-eggs.

January 1st, 1851.This morning the condition in which the people composing the caravan crawled out of their berths was most miserable and piteous; and moreover nobody thought of starting early, as several camels had been lost. At length, when the intense cold began to abate, and when the animals had been found, everybody endeavoured to free himself and his clothing from the bristles, which joined each part of his dress to the others like so many needles; but what one succeeded in getting rid of was immediately carried by the strong wind to another, so that all were in every respect peevish when they set out at half-past nine o’clock. Nevertheless the day was to be a very important one to me, and one on which princely favour was to be shown to me in a most marked manner.

I have remarked above that on the day I started for Ágades the old chief made a present of a bullock to the other members of the mission; but in this present I myself did not participate, and I had not yet received anything from him. Perhaps he was sensible of this, and wanted to give me likewise a proof of his royal generosity; but I am afraid he was at the same time actuated by feelings of a very different nature. He had several times praised my Turkish jacket, and I had consoled him with a razor or some other trifle; he had avowedly coveted my warm black bernús, and had effected, by his frank intimations, nothing more than to make me draw my warm clothing closer round my body. In order to bear the fatigue of the journey more easily, he had long ago exchanged the little narrow kígi or méheri-saddle for the broad pack-saddle, with a load of salt, as a secure seat.

He was one of the foremost in his string, while I, mounted upon my Bu-Séfi (who, since the loss of my méheri, had once more become my favourite saddle-horse), was riding outside the caravan, separated from him by several strings of camels. He called me by name; and on my answering his call, he invited me to come to him: to do this I had to ride round all the strings. At length I reached him. He began to complain of the intense cold, from which he was suffering so acutely, while I seemed to be so comfortable in my warm clothes; then he asked if the ostrich-eggs of yesterday evening had pleased us, whereupon I told him that his people had cheered us greatly by contributing, with their gift, to enable us to celebrate our chief festival. He then put his hand into his knapsack, and drawing forth a little cheese, and lifting it high up, so that all his people might see it, he presented the princely gift to me, with a gracious and condescending air, as a “mágani-n-dári” (a remedy against the cold), words which I, indeed, was not sure whether they were not meant ironically, as an intimation that I had withheld from him the real mágani-n-dári, my black bernús.

We were gladdened when, about noon, the plain became clothed with brushwood, and, after a while also with bú-rékkeba. Large troops of ostriches were seen,—once a whole family, the parents, with several young ones of various ages, all running in single file one after the other. We encamped at half-past three in the afternoon, on a spot tolerably free from karéngia, where we observed a great many holes of the fox, the fének, or ñauñáwa (Megalotis famelicus), particularly in the neighbourhood of ant-hills. There were also the larger holes of the earth-hog (Orycteropus Æthiopicus), an animal which never leaves its hole in the daytime, and is rarely seen even by the natives. The holes, which are from fourteen to sixteen inches in diameter, and descend gradually, are generally made with great accuracy.

The following day, the country during the first part of our march continued rather bare; but after half-past two in the afternoon it became richer in trees and bushes, forming the southern zone of this sandy inland-plateau, which admits of pastoral settlements. The elevation of this plain or transition-zone seems to be in general about two thousand feet above the level of the sea. We encamped at length in the midst of prickly underwood, and had a good deal of trouble before we could clear a spot for pitching the tent.

Thursday, January 3rd.Soon after setting out on our march, we met a caravan consisting of twenty oxen laden with corn, and further on passed a herd of cattle belonging to the Tagáma,—a most cheerful sight to us. We then encamped before ten o’clock a little beyond a village of the same tribe, which, from a neighbouring well, bears the name In-asámet. The village consisted of huts exactly of the kind described by Leo; for they were built of mats (stuore) erected upon stalks (frasche), and covered with hides over a layer of branches, and were very low. Numbers of children and cattle gave to the encampment a lively aspect. The well is rather deep, not less than seventeen fathoms.

We had scarcely encamped, when we were visited by the male inhabitants of the village, mounted upon a small ill-looking breed of horses. They proved to be somewhat troublesome, instigated as they were by curiosity, as well as by their begging propensities; but in order to learn as much as possible, I thought it better to sacrifice the comfort of my tent, and converse with them. They were generally tall men, and much fairer than the Kél-owí; but in their customs they showed that they had fallen off much from ancient usages, through intercourse with strangers. The women not only made the first advances, but, what is worse, they were offered even by the men,—their brethren, or husbands. Even those among the men whose behaviour was least vile and revolting, did not cease urging us to engage with the women, who failed not to present themselves soon afterwards. It could scarcely be taken as a joke. Some of the women were immensely fat, particularly in the hinder regions, for which the Tawárek have a peculiar and expressive name—tebúllodén. Their features were very regular and their skin fair. The two most distinguished amongst them gave me their names as Shabó and Támatu, which latter word, though signifying “woman” in general, may nevertheless be also used as a proper name. The wealthier among them were dressed in black túrkedí and the zénne; the poorer in white cotton. The dress of most of the men was also white; but the chief peculiarity of the latter was, that several of them wore their hair hanging down in long tresses. This is a token of their being Aníslimen or Merábetín (holy men), which character they assume notwithstanding their dissolute manners. They have no school, but pride themselves on having a mʿallem appointed at their mesállaje, which must be miserable enough. Having once allowed the people to come into my tent, I could not clear it again the whole day. The names of the more respectable among the men were Kílle, El Khassén, Efárret, Cháy, Ríssa, Khándel, and Amaghár (properly “the Elder”). All these people, men and women, brought with them a variety of objects for sale; and I bought from them some dried meat of the welwaiji (Antilope leucoryx), which proved to be very fine, as good as beef; others, however, asserted that it was the flesh of the “rákomi-n-dáwa” or giraffe.

Hunting, together with cattle-breeding, is the chief occupation of the Tagáma; and they are expert enough with their little swift horses, to catch the large antelope as well as the giraffe. Others engage in the salt-trade, and accompany the Kél-gerés on their way to Bílma, without however following them to Sókoto, where, for the reason which I shall presently explain, they are not now allowed to enter; but they bring their salt to Kanó. In this respect the Tagáma acknowledge also, in a certain degree, the supremacy of the sultan of Ágades.

Their slaves were busy in collecting and pounding the seeds of the karéngia, or úzak (Pennisetum distichum), which constitutes a great part of their food. Whatever may be got here is procurable only with money,—even the water is sold:—the water-skin for a zekka of millet; but of course grain is here very much cheaper than in Aïr, and even than in Ágades. Altogether the Tagáma[200] form at present a very small tribe, able to muster, at the utmost, three hundred spears; but most of them are mounted on horseback. Formerly, however, they were far more numerous, till Íbram, the father of the present chief, undertook, with the assistance of the Kél-gerés, the unfortunate expedition against Sókoto (then governed by Bello), of which Clapperton has given a somewhat exaggerated account.[201] The country around is said to be greatly infested by lions, which often carry off camels.

Friday, January 4th.Our setting out this morning, after the camels were all laden and the men mounted, was retarded by the arrival of a queen of the desert, a beauty of the first rank, at least as regarded her dimensions. The lady, with really handsome features, was mounted upon a white bullock, which snorted violently under his immense burden. Nevertheless this luxurious specimen of womankind was sickly, and required the assistance of the tabíb, or “ne-meglán[202],” a title which Overweg had earned for himself by his doctoring, though his practice was rather of a remarkable kind; for he used generally to treat his patients, not according to the character of their sickness, but according to the days of the week on which they came. Thus he had one day of calomel, another of Dover’s powder, one of Epsom salts, one of magnesia, one of tartar emetic: the two remaining days being devoted to some other medicines; and it of course sometimes happened that the man who suffered from diarrhœa got Epsom salts, and he who required opening medicine was blessed with a dose of Dover’s powder. Of course my friend made numerous exceptions to this calendary method of treating disease, whenever time and circumstances allowed him to study more fully the state of a patient. However, in the hurry in which we just then were, he could scarcely make out what the imaginary or real infirmity of this lady was; and I cannot say what she got. She was certainly a woman of great authority, as the old chief himself was full of kind regards and deference to her. We were rather astonished that he exchanged here his brown mare for a lean white horse, the owners of which seemed, with good reason, excessively delighted with their bargain.

At length we got off, proceeding towards the land of promise in an almost direct southerly course. After three miles’ march the thick bush “dílu” made its appearance in the denser underwood, and the country became more hilly and full of ant-holes, while in the distance ahead of us, a little to our left, a low range became visible, stretching east and west. Suddenly the ground became a rocky flat, and the whole caravan was thrown into disorder. We did not at first perceive its cause, till we saw, to our great astonishment, that a steep descent by a regular terrace was here formed, at least a hundred feet high, which conducted to a lower level,—the first distinct proof that we had passed the Hammáda. The vegetation here was different, and a new plant made its appearance called “ágwau,” a middle-sized bush consisting of a dense cluster of thick branches of very white wood, at present without leaves, the young shoots just coming out; melons also were plentiful here, but they had no taste. The rocky descent only extends to a short distance towards the west, when it breaks off, while on our left it stretched far to the south-east. When we had kept along this plain for a little more than two miles, we passed, a short distance on our right, a large pond or “tébki” of water, called “Fárak,” spreading out in a hollow. I had here a long conversation with my frolicsome friend Mohammed Ánnur’s cousin, who was also going to Sudán; I told him that his uncle seemed to know his people well, and showed his wisdom in not leaving such a wanton youngster as himself behind him. He was, as usual, full of good humour, and informed me that Ánnur’s troop was almost the first, being preceded only by the caravan of Sálah, the chief of Egéllat. He prided himself again on his exploits in the late ghazzia, when they had overtaken the Éfadaye marauders in Tálak and Búgarén. Further on we passed the well called Fárak, which was now dry, and encamped two miles beyond it in a district thickly overgrown with karéngias.

Saturday, January 5th.We had scarcely started, when I observed an entirely new species of plant, which is rather rare in Central Negroland, and which I afterwards met in considerable quantities along the north shore of the so-called Niger, between Timbúktu and Tosáye. It is here, in Háusa, called “kumkúmmia,” a euphorbia growing from one and a half to two feet in height, and is very poisonous; indeed hereabouts, as in other districts of Central Africa, it furnishes the chief material with which arrows are poisoned. The principal vegetation consisted of “árza” (a species of laurel) and dílu; and further on parasitical plants were seen, but not in a very vigorous state. Altogether the country announced its fertility by its appearance; and a little before noon, when low ranges of hills encompassed the view on both sides, and gave it a more pleasant character, we passed, close on our left, another pastoral settlement of half mat and half leather tents[203], enlivened by numerous cattle and flocks, and leaning against a beautiful cluster of most luxuriant trees. But more cheerful still was the aspect of a little lake or tank of considerable extent, and bordered all around with the thickest grove of luxuriant acacias of the kind called “baggarúwa,” which formed overhead a dense and most beautiful canopy. This little lake is called “Gúmrek,” and was full of cattle, which came hither to cool themselves in the shade during the hot hours of the day. In this pleasant scenery we marched along, while a good number of horsemen collected around us, and gave us a little trouble; but I liked them far better, with their rough and warlike appearance, than their more civilized and degraded brethren of the day before. At about half-past two we encamped on the border of a dry watercourse with a white sandy bed, such as we had not seen for a long time. But here we made the acquaintance of a new plant and a new nuisance; this is the “aidó,” a grass with a prickly involucrum of black colour, and of larger size and stronger prickles than the karéngia (or Pennisetum distichum), and more dangerous for naked feet than for the clothes. A new string of camels joined us here, led on by Mohammed Ánnur.

Sunday, January 6th.We were greatly surprised at the appearance of the weather this morning; the sky was covered with thick clouds, and even a light rain fell while the caravan was loading. We felt some fear on account of the salt; but the rain soon ceased. In the course of my travels, principally during my stay in Timbúktu, I had more opportunities of observing these little incidental rain-falls of the cold season, or “the black nights,” during January and February; and further on, as occasion offers, I shall state the result of my observations.

At a little more than a mile from our camping-ground, the aspect of the country became greatly changed, and we ascended a hilly country of a very remarkable character, the tops of the hills looking bare, and partly of a deep, partly of a greyish black, like so many mounds of volcanic débris, while the openings or hollows were clothed with underwood. Here our companions began already to collect wood as a provision for the woodless corn-fields of Damerghú; but we were as yet some distance off. Ascending gradually, we reached the highest point at nine o’clock, while close on our right we had a hill rising to greater elevation; and here we obtained an interesting view—just as the sun burst through the clouds—over the hilly country before us, through which a bushy depression ran in a very winding course. Along this tortuous thread of underwood lay our path. As we were proceeding, Ibrahím, our Furáwi freeman, who was a very good marksman for a black, brought down a large lizard (Draconina) “demmó,” or, as the Arabs call it, “wárel,” which was sunning itself on a tree; it is regarded by the people as a great delicacy. A little before noon the country seemed to become more open, but only to be covered with rank reeds ten feet high—quite a new sight for us, and a great inconvenience to the camels, which stumbled along over the little hillocks from which the bunches of reeds shot forth. Further on, the ground (being evidently very marshy during the rainy season) was so greatly torn and rent by deep fissures, that the caravan was obliged to separate into two distinct parties. The very pleasant and truly park-like hilly country continued nearly unchanged till one o’clock in the afternoon, when, at a considerable distance on our left, we got sight of the first corn-fields of Damerghú, belonging to the villages of Kulakérki and Banuwélki.

This was certainly an important stage in our journey. For although we had before seen a few small patches of garden-fields, where corn was produced (as in Selúfiet, Áuderas, and other favoured places), yet they were on so small a scale as to be incapable of sustaining even a small fraction of the population; but here we had at length reached those fertile regions of Central Africa, which are not only able to sustain their own population, but even to export to foreign countries. My heart gladdened at this sight, and I felt thankful to Providence that our endeavours had been so far crowned with success; for here a more promising field for our labours was opened, which might become of the utmost importance in the future history of mankind.

We soon after saw another village, which several of our companions named Olalówa, and which may indeed be so called, although I thought at the time they applied to it the name of the more famous place further on, with which they were acquainted; and I afterwards convinced myself that such was really the case. The country became open and level, the whole ground being split and rent by fissures. While I was indulging in pleasing reveries of new discoveries and successful return, I was suddenly startled by three horsemen riding up to me and saluting me with a “Lá ílah ilá Allah.” It was Dan Íbra (or Íbram, the “son of Ibrahím”), the famous and dreaded chief of the Tamizgída[204], whom the ruler of Tintéllust himself in former times had not been able to subdue, but had been obliged to pay him a sort of small tribute or transit-money, in order to secure the unmolested passage of his caravans on their way to Sudán. The warlike chief had put on all his finery, wearing a handsome blue bernús, with gold embroidery, over a rich Sudán tobe, and was tolerably well mounted. I answered his salute, swearing by Allah that I knew Allah better than he himself, when he became more friendly, and exchanged with me a few phrases, asking me what we wanted to see in this country. He then went to take his turn with Mr. Richardson. I plainly saw that if we had not been accompanied by Ánnur himself, and almost all our luggage sent on in advance, we should have had here much more serious colloquies.

After having ascended a little from the lower ground, where evidently, during the rains, a large sheet of water collects, and having left on our right a little village surrounded by stubble-fields, we passed along the western foot of the gently-sloping ground on whose summit lies the village (“úngwa”) Sámmit. It was past four o’clock in the afternoon when we encamped upon an open stubble-field, and we were greatly cheered at observing here the first specimen of industry in a good sense,—for of industry in a bad sense the Tagáma had already given us some proof. As soon as we were dismounted, two muscular blacks, girded with leather aprons round their loins, came bounding forward, and in an instant cleared the whole open space around us, while in a few minutes several people, male and female, followed, offering a variety of things for sale, such as millet, beans (of two sorts), and those cakes called dodówa, which were duly appreciated by the late Captain Clapperton for the excellent soup made of them. Of their preparation I shall speak when we meet the first tree of that species, the dorówa—the name of the cake and that of the tree being distinguished by the change of a consonant. The cakes obtained here, however, as I afterwards learned, were of a most inferior and spurious character—of that kind called “dodówa-n-bósso” in Háusa, and in some districts “yákwa.” We felt here the benefit of civilization in a most palpable way, by getting most excellent chicken-broth for our supper. Our servants, indeed, were cooking the whole night.

Monday, January 7th.There were again a few drops of rain in the morning. Soon after starting, we were greeted by the aspect of a few green kitchen-gardens, while we were still gradually ascending. On reaching the highest level, we obtained a sight of the mountains of Damerghú (“dúwatsu n Damerghú,” as they are called), a low range stretching parallel with the road towards the east, while ahead of us, and westward, the country was entirely open, resembling one unbroken stubble-field. Having crossed a hollow with a dry pond and some trees, we had at about eight o’clock a village close on our right, where, for the first time, I saw that peculiar style of architecture which, with some more or less important varieties, extends through the whole of Central Africa.

These huts, in as far as they are generally erected entirely with the stalks of the Indian corn, almost without any other support except that derived from the feeble branches of the Asclepias gigantea, certainly do not possess the solidity of the huts of the villages of Ásben, which are supported by a strong framework of branches and young trees; but they greatly surpass them in cleanliness, on account of the large available supply of the light material of which they are built. It is, however, to be remarked that the inhabitants of this district depend in a great measure for their fuel too upon the stalks of the Indian corn. The huts in general are lower than those in Ásben, and are distinguished from them entirely by the curved top of the thatched roof, which sustains the whole. In examining these structures, one cannot but feel surprised at the great similarity which they bear to the huts of the aboriginal inhabitants of Latium, such as they are described by Vitruvius and other authors, and represented occasionally on terra cotta utensils, while the name in the Bórnu or Kanúri language, “kósi,” bears a remarkable resemblance to the Latin name “casa,” however accidental it may be. It is still more remarkable that a similar name, “kúde,” is given to a cottage in the Tamil and other Asiatic languages.

More remarkable and peculiar than the huts, and equally new and interesting to us, as the most evident symptom of the great productiveness of this country, were the little stacks of corn scattered among the huts, and in reality consisting of nothing but an enormous basket made of reeds, and placed upon a scaffold of thick pieces of wood about two feet high, in order to protect the corn against the “kúsu” and the “gará” (the mouse and the ant), and covered over on the top with a thatched roof, like that of the huts.[205] Of these little corn-stacks we shall find some most interesting architectural varieties in the course of our travels. The “gará,” or white ant (Termes fatalis), is here the greatest nuisance, being most destructive to the corn as well as to all softer kinds of house-furniture, or rather to the houses themselves. Every possible precaution must be taken against it. The “kúsu,” or mouse, abounds here in great numbers, and of several species: particularly frequent is the jerbóa (dipus), which for the traveller certainly forms a very pleasant object to look at as it jumps about on the fields, but not so to the native, who is anxious about his corn.

While reflecting on the feeble resistance which this kind of architecture must necessarily offer in case of conflagration, particularly as water is at so great a distance, I perceived almost opposite to this little hamlet a larger one called Mája, on the other side of the road, and shaded by some thorn-trees. From both villages the people came forth to offer cheese and Indian corn for sale. They differed widely from the fanatical people among whom we had been travelling; most of them were pagans and slaves. Their dress was mean and scanty; this of course is an expensive article in a country where no cotton is produced, and where articles of dress can only be obtained in exchange for the produce of the country. On a field near the path the Guinea corn was still lying unthreshed, though the harvest had been collected two months before. The threshing is done with long poles. The whole of Damerghú produces no durra or sorghum, but only millet or Pennisetum typhoïdeum, and all, as far as I know, of the white species.

Further on, the stubble-fields were pleasantly interrupted by a little pasture-ground, where we saw a tolerably large herd of cattle. Then followed a tract of country entirely covered with the monotonous Asclepias gigantea, which at present is useful only as affording materials for the framework of the thatched roofs, or for fences. It is worthless for fuel, although the pith is employed as tinder. The milky juice (which at present is used by the pagan natives, as far as I know, only to ferment their gíya, and which greatly annoys the traveller in crossing the fields, as it produces spots on the clothes, and even injures the hair of the horses) might become an important article of trade. The cattle, at least in districts where they have not good pasturage, feed on the leaves of the asclepias.

We were gradually ascending, and reached at about a quarter-past ten o’clock the summit of a rising ground, the soil of which consisted of red clay. Altogether it was an undulating country, appearing rather monotonous, from its almost total want of trees, but nevertheless of the highest interest to one just arrived from the arid regions of the north.

Having passed several detached farms, which left a very agreeable impression of security and peacefulness, we came upon a group of wells, some dry, but others well filled, where besides cattle a good many horses were led to water—a cheerful and to us quite a novel sight; many more were seen grazing around on the small patches of pasture-ground which interrupted the stubble-fields, and some of them were in splendid condition—strong and well-fed, and with fine sleek coats; all of them were of brown colour. But there was another object which attracted our attention: the trough at the well was formed of a tortoiseshell of more than two feet in length; and on inquiry we learnt that this animal, of a large size, is not at all rare in this district. It was already mentioned, as common in these regions, by the famous Andalusian geographer El Bekri.

Villages, stubble-fields, tracts covered with tunfáfia (the Asclepias), detached farms, herds of cattle and troops of horses tranquilly grazing, succeeded each other, while the country continued undulating, and was now and then intersected by the dry bed of a watercourse. Having passed two divisions of the aïr, or aïri, which had preceded us, and had encamped near some villages, we obtained quite a new sight—a large quadrangular place called Dam-mágaji (properly Dan Mágaji, “the son of the lieutenant,” after whom it is called), surrounded with a clay wall, spreading out at a short distance on our left, while in the distance before us in the direction of Zinder, a high cone called Zozáwa became visible. Leaving a village of considerable size on our right, at a quarter to three o’clock we reached a small hamlet, from which numbers of people were hurrying forward, saluting us in a friendly and cheerful manner, and informing us that this was Tágelel, the old chief’s property. We now saw that the village consisted of two distinct groups separated from each other by a cluster of four or five tsámias or tamarind-trees—the first poor specimens of this magnificent tree, which is the greatest ornament of Negroland.

Our camping-ground was at first somewhat uncomfortable and troublesome, it being absolutely necessary to take all possible precautions against the dreadful little foe that infests the ground wherever there is arable land in Sudán—the white ant; but we gradually succeeded in making ourselves at home and comfortable for the next day’s halt.

The greatest part of the following day was spent in receiving visits. The first of these was interesting, although its interest was diminished by the length to which it was protracted. The visitor was a gallant freeborn Ikázkezan, of a fine though not tall figure, regular, well-marked features, and fair complexion, which at once bespoke his noble birth; he was clad in a very good red bernús, of the value of 70,000 kurdí in Kanó, and altogether was extremely neatly and well dressed. He came first on horseback with two companions on camels, but soon sent his horse and companions away, and squatted down in my tent, apparently for a somewhat long talk with me; and he remained with me for full three hours. But he was personally interesting, and a very fine specimen of his tribe; and the interest attaching to his person was greatly enhanced by his having accompanied the expedition against the Welád Slimán, which none of our other friends the Kél-owí had done. On this account I was greatly pleased to find that his statements confirmed and corroborated the general reports which we had heard before. He was all admiration at the large fortification which, as soon as they heard that the Tawárek intended an expedition against them, the Arabs had constructed at Késkáwa, on the shore of lake Tsád (carrying trees of immense size from a great distance), and where they had remained for two months awaiting the arrival of their enraged foe. He expressed his opinion that nothing but the Great God himself could have induced them to leave at length such a secure retreat and impregnable stronghold, by crazing their wits, and confounding their understandings. I also learnt that these daring vagabonds had not contented themselves with taking away all the camels of the Kél-owí that came to Bílma for salt, but, crossing that most desolate tract which separates Kawár or Hénderi Tedá (the Tébu country) from Aïr, pursued the former as far as Agwáu.

At the time I conversed with my Ikázkezan friend about this subject I was not yet aware how soon I was to try my fortune with the shattered remains of that Arab horde, although its fate had formed an object of the highest interest to the expedition from the beginning. As for ourselves, my visitor was perfectly well acquainted with the whole history of our proceedings; and he was persuaded that, out of any material, we were able to make what we liked, but especially fine bernúses,—an opinion which gave rise to some amusing conversation between us.

This interesting visitor was succeeded by a great many tiresome people, so that I was heartily glad when Overweg, who had made a little excursion to a great pond of stagnant water, at the foot of the hill of Farára, the residence of Mákita, returned, and, lying outside the little shed of tanned skins, which was spread over his luggage, drew the crowd away from my tent. Overweg, as well as Ibrahím, who had accompanied him, had shot several ducks, which afforded us a good supper, and made us support with some degree of patience the trying spectacle of a long procession of men and women laden with eatables, passing by us in the evening towards the camping-ground of the chief, while not a single dish found its way to us; and though we informed them that they were missing their way, they would not understand the hint, and answered us with a smile. Many severe remarks on the niggardliness of the old chief were that evening made round our fire. While music, dancing, and merriment were going on in the village, a solitary “maimólo” found his way to us, to console the three forsaken travellers from a foreign land, by extolling them to the skies, and representing them as special ministers of the Almighty.

Wednesday, January 8th.To-day I began a list of the principal towns and villages of Dam-erghú, which I shall now give as it was corrected and completed by my subsequent inquiries; but first I shall make a few general observations.

Aïr, or rather Ásben, as we have seen above, was originally inhabited by the Góber race—that is to say, the most noble and original stock of what is now, by the natives themselves, called the Háusa nation; but the boundaries of Ásben appear not to have originally included the district of Dam-erghú, as not even those of Aïr do at the present day, Dam-erghú being considered as an outlying province, and the granary of Aïr. On the contrary, the name of Dam-erghú (which is formed of the same root as the names Daw-erghú, Gam-erghú, and others, all lying round Bórnu proper) seems to show that the country to which it applied belonged to the Kanúri race, who are in truth its chief occupants even at the present day, the Bórnu population being far more numerous than the Háusa; and though a great many of them are at present reduced to a servile condition, they are not imported slaves, as Mr. Richardson thought, but most of them are serfs or prædial slaves, the original inhabitants of the country. It is true that a great many of the names of the villages in Dam-erghú belong to the Háusa language; but these I conceive to be of a former date. The district extends for about sixty miles in length, and forty in breadth. It is altogether an undulating country of very fertile soil, capable of maintaining the densest population, and was in former times certainly far more thickly inhabited than at present. The bloody wars carried on between the Bórnu king ʿAli ʿOmármi on the one side, and the sultan of Ágades and the Tawárek of Aïr on the other, must have greatly depopulated these border districts.

In giving a list of the principal villages of this region, I shall first mention five places which owe their celebrity and importance, not to their size or the number of their inhabitants, but rather to their political rank, being the temporary residences of the chiefs.

I name first Kúla-n-kérki—not the village mentioned above as being seen in the distance, but another place half-a-day’s journey (“wúëni,” as the Háusa people say) east from Tágelel—of considerable size, and the residence of the chief Músa, who may with some truth be called master of the soil of Dam-erghú, and is entitled serkí-n-Dam-erghú in the same sense in which Mazáwaji was formerly called serkí-n-Ásben; and to him all the inhabitants of the district, with the sole exception of the people of the three other chiefs, have to do homage and present offerings.

Olalówa, about three miles or three miles and a half S.W. of Tágelel, is rather smaller than Kúla-n-kérki. It is the residence of Mazáwaji, a man of the same family as Ánnur, who, till a short time before our arrival in Aïr, was “amanókal-n-Kél-owí,” residing in Ásodi, in the place of Astáfidet. Though he has left Aïr voluntarily, he still retains the title “serkí-n-Kél-owí,” and is a friendly and benevolent old man. Olalówa has a market-place provided with rúnfona, or rúnfas (sheds), where a market is held every Sunday; but it is not well attended by the inhabitants of the other places, owing to the fear entertained of Mazáwaji’s slaves, who seem (mild as their master is) to be disposed to violence.

Farára, the residence of Mákita, or Ímkiten, the man who played the chief part during the interregnum, or rather the reign of anarchy in Ásben, before the installation of ʿAbd el Káder. It is situated about two miles from Tágelel, on the west side of the road which we were to take, on the top of a hill, at the foot of which is a very extensive lagoon of water, from which the inhabitants of Tágelel also, and of many surrounding villages, draw their supply.

Tágelel, the residence of Ánnur, although of small size (the two groups together containing scarcely more than a hundred and twenty cottages), is nevertheless of great political importance in all the relations of this distracted country.

Here also I will mention Dankámsa, the residence of an influential man of the name of Úmma, which in a certain respect enjoys the same rank as the four above-named villages.[206]

I will also add in this place the little which I was able to learn about the mixed settlements of Tawárek and black natives between Dam-erghú and Múniyo. As these places are the chief centres whence proceed the predatory excursions which are carried on continually against the northern districts of Bórnu, information with regard to them is not easily obtained. The chief among them is the principality of Alákkos or Elákwas[207], about three (long) days N.E. from Zínder, and two from Gúre, the present residence of Muniyóma. The ruling class in this sequestered haunt of robbers and freebooters seems to belong to the tribe of the Tagáma; and the name of the present chief is Abu-Bakr, who can lead into the field perhaps two hundred horsemen. The chief place bears the same name as the whole principality; and besides it there are but a few small places, among which I learnt the name of Dáucha. Alákkos is celebrated among the hungry inhabitants of the desert, on account of its grain; and in the desert-song, the verse which celebrates the horse of Tawát, is followed by another one celebrating the grain of Alákkos, “tádak Elákwas.”