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CHAP. XXXII.

SETTING OUT ON MY JOURNEY TO ADAMÁWA. — THE FLAT, SWAMPY GROUNDS OF BÓRNU.

Thursday, May 29th.At four o’clock in the afternoon I left the “chínna ánumbe,” the southern gate of Kúkawa, on my adventurous journey to Adamáwa. My little troop was not yet all collected. For being extremely poor at the time, or rather worse than poor, as I had nothing but considerable debts, I had cherished the hope that I should be able to carry all my luggage on one camel; but when the things were all packed up, provisions, cooking utensils, tent, and a few presents, I saw that the one weak animal which I had was not enough, and bought another of Mr. Overweg, which had first to be fetched from the pasture-ground. I therefore left two servants and my old experienced Háusa warrior, the Mʿallem Katúri, whom, as I have stated above, I had expressly hired for this journey, behind me in the town, in order to follow us in the night with the other camel.

Mr. Overweg, attended by a spirited little fellow, named ʿAli, a native of Ghát, who had brought his luggage from Kanó, accompanied me. But the most conspicuous person in our troop was Bíllama[91], the officer whom the sheikh had appointed to accompany me, a tall handsome Bórnu man, mounted on a most splendid grey horse of great size, and of a very quick pace. He had two servants with him, besides a man of Malá Ibrám, likewise mounted on horseback, who was to accompany us as far as the Marghí country. The messengers from Adamáwa, as we proceeded onward, gradually collected together from the hamlets about, where they had been waiting for us, and the spearmen among them saluted me by raising their spears just in my face, and beating their small round hippopotamus shields; Mohámmedu was armed with a sword and bow and arrows. They had not been treated so well as, with reference to my prospects, the sheikh ought to have treated them, and Ibrahíma, instead of a handsome horse which was promised to him, had received a miserable poor mare, quite unfit for himself, and scarcely capable of carrying his little son and his small provision bag.

As soon as I had left the town behind me, and saw that I was fairly embarked in my undertaking, I indulged in the most pleasant feelings. I had been cherishing the plan of penetrating into those unknown countries to the south for so long a time, that I felt the utmost gratification in being at length able to carry out my design. At that time I even cherished the hope that I might succeed in reaching Báya, and thus extend my inquiries even as far as the equator; but my first design was, and had always been, to decide by ocular evidence the question with regard to the direction and the tributaries of the great river which flowed through the country in the south.

Leaving the Ngórnu road to our left, we reached the village Kárba at sunset, but were received so inhospitably, that, after much opposition from a quarrelsome old woman, we took up our quarters not inside, but outside, her courtyard, and with difficulty obtained a little fire, with which we boiled some coffee, but had not firewood enough for cooking a supper, so that we satisfied our appetite with cold “díggwa,” a sweetmeat made of meal, honey, and butter. The inhabitants of the villages at no great distance from the capital are generally very inhospitable; but the traveller will find the same in any country.

Friday, May 30th.At an early hour we were ready to resume our march, not having even pitched a tent during the night. The morning was very fine; and, in comparison with the naked and bare environs of the capital, the country seemed quite pleasant to me, although the flora offered scarcely anything but stunted acacias of the gáwo and kindíl kind, while dúm-bush and the Asclepias procera formed the underwood, and coarse dry grass full of “ngíbbu” or Pennisetum distichum covered the ground. Now and then a fine tamarind-tree interrupted this monotony, and formed a landmark; indeed both the well which we passed (Tamsúkú-korí) and the village Tamsúkwá, have received their names from this most beautiful and useful tree, which in Kanúri is called tamsúku or temsúku.

After only four hours’ march we halted near the village Pírtwa, as Mr. Overweg was now to return, and as I wished my other people to come up. Having long tried in vain to buy some provisions with our “kúngona” or shells, Mr. Overweg at length succeeded in purchasing a goat with his servant’s shirt. This article, even if much worn, is always regarded as ready money in the whole of Negroland; and as long as a man has a shirt he is sure not to starve. Afterwards the inhabitants of the village brought us several bowls of “bírri,” or porridge of Negro corn; and we employed ourselves in drinking coffee and eating, till it was time for Mr. Overweg to depart, when we separated with the most hearty wishes for the success of each other’s enterprise: for we had already fully discussed his undertaking to navigate the lagoon in the English boat.

We then started at a later hour, and, following a more westerly path, took up our night’s quarters at Dýnnamarí, the village of Dýnnama or Ámade. Instead of this most westerly road, my people had taken the most easterly; and we at length joined them, a little before noon of the following day, at the village Úlo Kurá, which, with the whole district, belongs to the “Mágirá” (the mother of the sheikh), and so forms a distinct domain called “Mágirári.” But the country for thirty or forty miles round Kúkawa is intersected by so many paths, that it is very difficult for parties to meet, if the place of rendezvous has not been precisely indicated. The country hereabouts at this time of the year presents a most dreary appearance, being full of those shallow hollows of deep-black argillaceous soil called “fírki” by the Kanúri, and “ghadír” by the Arabs, which during the rainy season form large ponds of water, and when the rainy season draws to an end, and the water decreases, afford the most excellent soil for the cultivation of the “másakwá,” a species of holcus (H. cernuus), which constitutes a very important article of cultivation in these alluvial lowlands round the Tsád, or even for wheat. At a later season, after the grain is harvested, these hollows, being sometimes of an immense extent, and quite bare and naked, give the country a most dismal appearance. The water in Úlo Kurá was extremely disagreeable, owing to this nature of the ground.

Continuing our march in the afternoon, after the heat had decreased, we passed, after about four miles, the first encampment of Shúwa, or berí Shúwabe, which I had yet seen in the country. Shúwa is a generic name, denoting all the Arabs (or rather eastern Arabs) settled in Bórnu and forming a component part of the population of the country; in Bagírmi they are called Shíwa. No Arab from the coast is ever denoted by this name; but his title is Wásirí, or Wásilí. This native Arab population appears to have immigrated from the east at a very early period, although at present we have no direct historical proof of the presence of these Arabs in Bórnu before the time of Edrís Alawóma[92], about two hundred and fifty years ago.

Of the migration of these Arabs from the east, there cannot be the least doubt. They have advanced gradually through the eastern part of Negroland, till they have overspread this country, but without proceeding further towards the west. Their dialect is quite different from the Mághrebí, while in many respects it still preserves the purity and eloquence of the language of Hijáz, particularly as regards the final vowels in the conjugation. Many of their national customs, also, still point to their ancient settlements, as we shall see further on. I became very intimate with these people at a later period, by taking into my service a young Shúwa lad, who was one of my most useful servants on my journey to Timbúktu. These Shúwa are divided into many distinct families or clans, and altogether may form in Bórnu a population of from 200,000 to 250,000 souls, being able to bring into the field about 20,000 light cavalry. Most of them have fixed villages, where they live during the rainy season, attending the labours of the field, while during the remaining part of the year they wander about with their cattle. I shall say more about them in the course of my proceedings, as opportunity occurs. The clan, whose encampment or berí we passed to-day are generally called Kárda by the Bórnu people—I cannot say why[93],—while their indigenous name, “Bajáudi,” seems to indicate an intermixture with the Fúlbe or Felláta, with whom the Shúwa in general are on the most friendly terms, and may often be confounded with them on account of the similarity of their complexion and manners. In fact there is no doubt that it was the Shúwa who prepared and facilitated the settlement of the Fúlbe or Felláta in Bórnu.

We took up our quarters for the night in one of the four clusters of huts which form the village Múngholo Gezáwa, and which, by the neatness and cleanliness of its yards and cottages, did honour to its lord, the vizier of Bórnu. It was here that I first observed several small pools of rain-water, which bore testimony to the greater intensity and the earlier setting in of the rainy season in these regions. There were also great numbers of water-fowl seen hereabouts.

Sunday, June 1st.When we left our quarters in the morning we hesitated a while as to what road to take, whether that by “Múbiyó,” or that by “Úda” or “Wúda;” but at length we decided for the latter. The country exhibited a peculiar but not very cheerful character, the ground consisting, in the beginning, of white clay, and further on of a soil called “gárga” by the Kanúri people, and now and then quite arid and barren, while at other times it was thickly overgrown with prickly underwood, with a tamarind-tree shooting up here and there. We then came to a locality covered with a dense forest, which at a later period in the rainy season forms one continuous swamp, but at present was dry, with the exception of some deep hollows already filled with water. Here we found some of the inhabitants of the district, all of whom are Shúwa, busy in forming watering-places for the cattle, by inclosing circular hollows with low dikes. One of these people was of a complexion so light as to astonish me; indeed he was no darker than my hands and face, and perhaps even a shade lighter: his features were those of the Shúwa in general, small and handsome; his figure slender. The general size of these Arabs does not exceed five feet and a half: but they look much taller, on account of the peculiar slenderness of their forms; for, although I have seen many specimens of stout Fúlbe, I have scarcely ever seen one robust Shúwa. The forest was enlivened by numberless flocks of wild pigeons.

We then emerged into a more open country, passing several villages of a mixed population, half of them being Shúwa, the other half Kanúri. All their huts have a thatched roof of a perfectly spherical shape, quite distinct from the general form of huts in this country, the top, or “kógi ngímbe,” being entirely wanting. One of these villages, called Dásedísk, is well remembered by the people on account of the sheikh, Mohammed el Kánemi, having been once encamped in its neighbourhood. At a rather early hour we halted for the heat of the day in a village called Ménoway, where an old decrepit Shúwa from Úda, led by his equally aged and faithful better half, came to me in quest of medicine for his infirmities. To my great vexation, a contribution of several fowls was laid by my companions upon the villagers for my benefit; and I had to console an old blind man, who stumbled about in desperate search after his cherished hen. There was a numerous herd of cattle just being watered at the two wells of the village.

Starting again in the afternoon, we reached one of the hamlets forming the district Magá just in time to avoid the drenching of a violent storm which broke forth in the evening. But the lanes formed by the fences of the yards were so narrow that we had the greatest difficulty in making our camels pass through them—an inconvenience which the traveller experiences very often in these countries, where the camel is not the indigenous and ordinary beast of burden. The well here was nine fathoms deep.

Monday, June 2nd.Starting tolerably early, we reached after two miles an extensive fírki, the black boggy soil of which, now dry, showed a great many footprints of the giraffe. This I thought remarkable at the moment, but still more so when, in the course of my travels, I became aware how very rarely this animal, which roams over the extensive and thinly-inhabited plains on the border of Negroland, is found within the populous districts. This “fírki” was the largest I had yet seen, and exceeded three miles in length. Much rain had already fallen hereabouts; and further on, near a full pond, we observed two wild hogs (gadó), male (bí) and female (kúrgurí), running one after the other. This also was a new sight for me, as heretofore I had scarcely seen a single specimen of this animal in this part of the world; but afterwards I found that, in the country between this and Bagírmi, this animal lives in immense numbers. We here overtook a small troop of native traders, or “tugúrchi,” with sumpter oxen laden with natron, while another with unloaded beasts was just returning from Ujé. A good deal of trade is carried on in this article with the last-named place.

Having gone on in advance of the camels with Bíllama and Mʿallem Katúri, I waited a long time under a splendid “chédia,” or “jéja” (the Háusa name), the caoutchouc tree, indicating the site of a large town of the Gámerghú, called Muná (which has been destroyed by the Fúlbe or Felláta), expecting our people to come up, as we intended to leave the direct track and go to a neighbouring village, wherein to spend the hot hours of the day; but as they delayed too long, we thought we might give them sufficient indication of our having left the road by laying a fresh branch across it. This is a very common practice in the country; but it requires attention on the part of those who follow, and may sometimes lead to confusion. On one occasion, when I had, in like manner, gone on in advance of my people, a second party of horsemen, who had likewise left their people behind, came between me and my baggage-train, and, as they were pursuing a by-way, they laid a branch across the chief road; my people, on coming up to the branch, thought that it was laid by me, and, following the by-way, caused much delay. Other people make a mark with a spear. I and my horsemen went to the village and lay down in the cool shade of a tamarind-tree; but we soon became convinced that our people had not paid attention to the mark. With difficulty we obtained something to eat from the villagers.

The heat had been very oppressive; and we had just mounted our horses when a storm broke out in the south, but fortunately without reaching us. Proceeding at a swift pace, we found our people encamped in a village called Íbramrí, and, having roused them, immediately continued our march. Beyond this village I observed the first cotton-field occurring on this road. The country was thickly inhabited, and gave evidence of a certain degree of industry; in the village Bashírorí I observed a dyeing-place. The country was laid out in corn-fields of considerable extent, which had just been sown. All this district then belonged to Mestréma, as an estate in fee; but after the revolution of 1854, this man was disgraced and the estate taken from him.

I had already felt convinced that the kúka, or Adansonia digitata, is one of the commonest trees of Negroland; but all the numerous specimens which I had hitherto seen of this colossal tree were leafless, forming rather gloomy and unpleasant objects: here, however, I saw it for the first time adorned with leaves; and though the foliage seemed to bear no proportion to the colossal size of the boughs, yet the tree had a much more cheerful aspect. We took up our quarters for the night in Ujé Maidúgurí, a large and comfortable-looking place, such as I had not yet met with since I left Kúkawa; but the yard, which was assigned to us by the slaves of Mestréma, was in the very worst state, and I was obliged to pitch my tent. However, we were hospitably treated, and fowls and a sheep, as well as bírri, were brought to us.

We had now reached one of the finest districts of Bórnu, which is collectively called Ujé, but which really comprises a great many places of considerable size. This was once the chief province of the Gámerghú, a tribe often mentioned in the history of Edrís Alawóma[94], and who, as their language shows, are closely related to the Wándalá or, as they are generally called, Mándara.[95] This tribe has at present lost all national independence, while its brethren in Morá and the places around, protected by the mountainous character of the country, still maintain their freedom against the Kanúri and Fúlbe, but, as it seems, will soon be swallowed up by the latter. While the greater part of the Gámerghú have been exterminated, the rest are heavily taxed, although the tribute which they have to deliver to the sheikh himself consists only in butter. Every large place in this district has a market of its own; but a market of very considerable importance is held in Ujé, and is from this circumstance called Ujé Kásukulá—“kásukú” means “the market.” In Ujé Maídugurí[96] a market is held every Wednesday on the west side of the town, where a small quadrangular area is marked out with several rows of stalls or sheds. The place was once surrounded by an earthen wall, the circumference of which seems to show its greater magnitude in former times.

Escorted by a troop of Mestréma’s idle servants, we entered, on the following morning, the fine open country which stretches out on the south side of Maídugurí. The whole plain appeared to be one continuous corn-field, interrupted only by numerous villages, and shaded here and there by single monkey-bread trees, or Adansonias, and various species of fig-trees, such as the ngábbore, with their succulent dark-green foliage, and báure with large fleshy leaves of a bright-green colour. Since I left Kanó I had not seen so fine a country. The plain is traversed by a large fiumara or komádugu, which comes from the neighbourhood of Aláwó, where there is a great collection of water, and reaches the Tsád by way of Díkowa, Nghála, and Mbulú. At the three latter places I have crossed it myself in the course of my travels; and between Ujé and Díkowa it has been visited by Mr. Vogel, but I do not know whether he is able to lay down its course with accuracy.

We had to cross the watercourse twice before we reached Mábaní, a considerable place situated on a broad sandy hill, at a distance of little more than four miles from Maídugurí. To my great astonishment, at so early an hour in the morning, my party proceeded to take up quarters here; but the reason was, that the messengers from Ádamáwa had to inquire hereabouts for some of the people, who, as I have stated before, had been carried away by Kashélla ʿAli. However, in the absence of the bíllama or head man of the town, a long time elapsed before we could procure quarters; but at length we succeeded in obtaining a sort of open yard, with two huts and two stalls, or “fáto síggidibé,” when I gave up the huts to my companions, and took possession of the best of the stalls, near which I pitched my tent. The town covers not only the whole top of the hill, but, descending its southern slope, extends along its foot and over another hill of less size. It may contain from nine to ten thousand inhabitants, and seems to be prosperous: indeed all the dwellings, despicable as they may appear to the fastidious European, bear testimony to a certain degree of ease and wealth; and few people here seem destitute of the necessaries of life. Besides agriculture, there appears to be a good deal of domestic industry, as the market-place, situated on the eastern slope of the hill, and consisting of from a hundred and fifty to two hundred stalls, and a dyeing-place close by it, amply testify.[97] I have already mentioned in another place the shirts which are dyed in this district, and which are called “ámaghdí.”

When the heat had abated a little I made a pleasant excursion on horseback, accompanied by Bíllama and Bú-Sʿad, first in an easterly direction, through the plain to a neighbouring village, and then turning northward to the komádugu, which forms here a beautiful sweep, being lined on the north side by a steep grassy bank adorned with fine trees. The southern shore was laid out in kitchen-gardens, where, a little further in the season, wheat and onions are grown. In the bottom of the fiumara we found most delicious water only a foot and a half beneath the surface of the sand, while the water which we obtained in the town, and which was taken from the pools at the foot of the hill, was foul and offensive. These pools are enlivened by a great number of water-fowl, chiefly herons and flamingoes.

The forenoon of Wednesday also I gave up to the solicitation of my Ádamáwa companions, and usefully employed my time in writing “bolíde Fulfúlde,” or the language of the Fúlbe, and more particularly the dialect spoken in Ádamáwa, which is indeed very different from the Fulfúlde spoken in Góber and Kébbi. Meanwhile old Mʿallem Katúri was bitten by a scorpion, and I had to dress the wound with a few drops of ammonia, for which he was very grateful.

In the afternoon we pursued our march; and I then became aware that we had made a great détour, Maídugurí, as well as Mábaní, not lying on the direct route. We had been joined in the latter place by a party of “pilgrim traders” from the far distant Másena, or, as in European maps the name is generally written, Massina, on their home-journey from Mekka, who excited much interest in me. The chief person among them was a native of Hamd-Alláhi[98], the capital of the new Púllo kingdom of Mélle, or Másena, who carried with him a considerable number of books, which he had bought in the east more for the purposes of trade than for his own use. He was mounted on a camel, but had also a pack-ox laden with salt, which he had been told he might dispose of to great advantage in Ádamáwa. Thus pilgrims are always trading in these countries. But this poor man was not very successful; for his books were partly spoiled in crossing the river Bénuwé, and his camel died during the rainy season in Ádamáwa. However, he thence continued his journey homewards, while his four companions returned eastward and met with me once more in Logón, and the last time on the banks of the Shári. Two of them were mounted on fine asses, which they had brought with them from Dár-Fúr.

Our way led us through a populous and fertile country, first along the meandering course of the komádugu, which was here lined with ngábbore or ficus, and with the birgim or diña (as it is called in Háusa), a tree attaining a height of from thirty to forty feet, but not spreading wide, with leaves of a darkish green, and fruit like a small plum, but less soft, and of a black colour, though it was not yet ripe. Here I was greeted by the cheerful sight of the first corn-crop of the season, which I had yet seen—having lately sprung up, and adorning the fields with its lively fresh green. Rain had been very copious hereabouts; and several large pools were formed along the komádugu, in which the boys of the neighbouring villages were catching small fish three or four inches long, while in other places the banks of the river were overgrown with beautifully-fresh grass. Having crossed and re-crossed the fiumara, we ascended its steep left bank, which in some places exhibited regular strata of sandstone. Here we passed a little dyeing-yard of two or three pots, while several small patches of indigo were seen at the foot of the bank, and a bustling group of men and cattle gathered round the well. Villages were seen lying about in every direction; and single cottages, scattered about here and there, gave evidence of a sense of security. The corn-fields were most agreeably broken by tracts covered with the bushes of the wild gonda, which has a most delicious fruit, of a fine cream-like taste, and of the size of a peach, a great part of which, however, is occupied by the stone. The country through which we passed was so interesting to me, and my conversation with my Háusa mʿallem about the labours of the field so animated, that we made a good stretch without being well aware of it, and took up our quarters in a place called Pálamarí[99] when it was already dark. However, our evening rest passed less agreeably than our afternoon’s ride, owing to a violent conjugal quarrel in an adjoining cottage, the voices of the leading pair in the dispute being supported by the shrill voices of village gossips.

Thursday, June 5th.In riding through the village, as we set out in the morning, I observed that the yards were unusually spacious, and the cottages very large; but it struck me that I did not see a single “bóngo,” or hut of clay walls, and I thought myself justified in drawing the conclusion that the inhabitants must find shelter enough under their light thatched walls, and consequently that the rainy season is moderate here.

We had scarcely emerged from the narrow lanes of the village, when I was gratified with the first sight of the mountainous region; it was Mount Deládebá or Dalántubá, which appeared towards the south, and the sight of which filled my heart with joyous anticipations not unlike those with which, on my first wandering in 1840, I enjoyed the distant view of the Tyrolian Alps from the village Semling, near Munich. But our march was but a pretence; we had not been a full hour on the road, crossing a country adorned chiefly with the bushes of the wild gonda, when Bíllama left the path and entered the village Fúgo Mozári. The reason was, that to-day (Thursday) the market was held in the neighbouring Ujé Kasúkulá, and it was essential that some of our party should visit, or (to use their expression) “eat” this market.

However, I did not stay long in our quarters, which, though comfortable, were rather close, and of an extremely labyrinthine character, being divided into several small yards separated from each other by narrow passages inclosed with high síggedi mats. After a brief delay I mounted again with Bíllama and Bú-Sʿad, and after two miles reached the market-town, crossing on our path a shallow branch of the komádugu, overgrown with succulent herbage, and exhibiting a scene of busy life.

The market was already well attended, and answered to its fame. As it is held every Thursday and Sunday, it is visited not only by people from Kúkawa, but also from Kanó[100], for which reason European as well as Háusa manufactures are often cheaper in Ujé than in Kúkawa. This we found to be the case with common paper, “tre lune.” The articles with which the market is provided from Kúkawa are chiefly natron and salt; and I myself bought here a good supply of this latter article, as it has a great value in Ádamáwa, and may be used as well for buying small objects as for presents. Ujé, however, derives also great importance from the slave-trade, situated as it is on the border of several Pagan tribes; and I have often heard it said that in the neighbourhood of Ujé a husband will sell his wife, or a father his child, when in want of money: but this may be an exaggeration. It is true, however, that slaves who have run away from Kúkawa are generally to be found here. There might be from five to six thousand customers; but there would be many more, if any security were guaranteed to the visitors, from the many independent tribes who are living round about, especially the Marghí, Bábir, and Kerékeré. But, as it is, I did not see a single individual in the market who by his dress did not bear testimony to his Mohammedan profession.

Making several times the round of the market, I greatly excited the astonishment of the native traders, who had never seen a European. I then started with Bíllama on an excursion to Aláwó, the burial place of the great Bórnu king Edrís Alawóma, although the weather was extremely sultry, and the sun almost insupportable. The whole country is densely inhabited; and my companion, who had formerly been governor of the district, was everywhere kindly saluted by the inhabitants, particularly the women, who would kneel down by the roadside to pay him their respects. However, I was prevented from seeing the sepulchre itself by an immense morass extending in front of the town of Aláwó, and the turning of which would have demanded a great circuit. Numberless flocks of waterfowl enlivened it, while rank herbage and dense forest bordered it all round.

We therefore thought it better to return, particularly as a storm was evidently gathering; but we first went to an encampment of Shúwa, where we found a numerous family engaged, under the shade of a wide-spreading ngábbore, in all the various occupations of household work; but we were very inhospitably received when we begged for something to drink. I shall often have occasion to mention the inhospitality of these people, whom I was sometimes inclined to take for Jews by descent, rather than real Arabs. Passing then the village Pálamarí, and keeping along the lovely bed of the fiumara, bordered by fine wide-spreading trees, and richly overgrown with succulent grass, upon which numbers of horses were feeding, we reached our quarters just in time; for shortly afterwards the storm, which had been hanging in the air the whole day, and had made the heat about noon more insupportable than I ever felt it in my life, came down with considerable violence. The consequence was that I was driven from the cool shed which I had occupied in the morning, into the interior of a hut, where flies and bugs molested me greatly. The sheds or stalls, which are often made with great care, but never waterproof, have the great inconvenience in the rainy season, that while they do not exclude the rain, they retain the humidity, and at the same time shut out the air from the huts to which they are attached.

In the course of the day we obtained the important news, that Mohammed Lowel, the governor of Ádamáwa, had returned from his expedition against the Bána, or rather Mbána, a tribe settled ten days’ march north-eastward from Yóla, but at less distance from Ujé. Bíllama gave me much interesting information about the country before us, chiefly with reference to Sugúr, a powerful and entirely independent pagan chief in the mountains south from Mándará. With regard to this latter country, I perceived more clearly, as I advanced, what a small province it must be, comprehending little more than the capital and a few hamlets lying close around. There came to me also an intelligent-looking Púllo merchant, who was trading between Kanó and Ujé along the route indicated above; but unluckily he did not call on me until sunset, just as the prayer of the almákárifú was approaching, and he did not return in the evening as I wished him to do.

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CHAP. XXXIII.

THE BORDER-COUNTRY OF THE MARGHÍ.

Friday, June 6th.We now commenced travelling more in earnest. Ibrahíma had been busy looking after his master’s subjects, who had been carried away into slavery, all about the villages in the neighbourhood, but with very little success. Our road passed close by Ujé Kásukulá, which to-day looked quite deserted; and then through a populous country with numerous villages and fine pasture-grounds, where I saw the plant called “wálde” by the Fúlbe.

I had taken great pains in Kúkawa, while gathering information about the country whither I was going, to ascertain from my informants whether snow ever lies there on the tops of the mountains or not; but I could never get at the truth, none of the natives whom I interrogated having ever visited North Africa, so as to be able to identify what he saw on the tops of the mountains in his country with the snow seen in the north. Áhmedu bel Mejúb, indeed, knew the Atlas, and had seen snow on some of the tops of that range; but he had paid little attention to the subject, and did not think himself justified in deciding the question. Now this morning, when we obtained once more a sight of Mount Dalántubá, marking out as it were, the beginning of a mountainous region, we returned again to the subject; and all that my companions said led me to believe that I might really expect to see snow on the highest mountains of Ádamáwa. But after all I was mistaken; for they were speaking of clouds. Unfortunately Bíllama had taken another path, so that to-day I had no one to tell me the names of the villages which we passed. Some geographers think this a matter of no consequence—for them it is enough if the position of the chief places be laid down by exact astronomical observation; but to me the general character of a country, the way in which the population is settled, and the nature and character of those settlements themselves, seem to form some of the chief and most useful objects of a journey through a new and unknown country.

Having marched for more than two hours through an uninterrupted scene of agriculture and dense population, we entered a wild tract covered principally with the beautiful large bush of the tsáda, the fruit of which, much like a red cherry, has a pleasant acid taste, and was eaten with great avidity, not only by my companions, but even by myself. But the scene of man’s activity soon again succeeded to this narrow border of wilderness; and a little before we came to the village Túrbe, which was surrounded by open cultivated country, we passed a luxuriant tamarind-tree, in the shade of which a blacksmith had established his simple workshop. The group consisted of three persons, the master heating the iron in the fire; a boy blowing it with a small pair of bellows, or “búbutú,” and a lad fixing a handle in a hatchet. On the ground near them lay a finished spear. Riding up to salute the smith, I asked him whence the iron was procured, and learnt that it was brought from Madégelé, in Búbanjídda. This is considered as the best iron hereabouts; but a very good sort of iron is obtained also in Mándará.

We halted for the hot hours of the day near a village belonging to the district Shámo, which originally formed part of the Marghí country, but has been separated from it and annexed to Bórnu, its former inhabitants having either been led into slavery or converted to Islám—that is to say, taught to repeat a few Arabic phrases, without understanding a word of them. The inhabitants of the village brought us paste of Guinea corn and milk, which, mixed together, make a palatable dish. From this place onward, ngáberi, or holcus, prevails almost exclusively, and argúm móro, or Pennisetum typhoïdeum, becomes rare.

Some native traders, armed with spears and driving before them asses laden with salt, here attached themselves to our troop; for the road further on is so much infested by robbers, that only a large body of men can pass it in safety. The country which we now entered bore but too evident proofs of the unfortunate condition to which it is reduced, forming a thick forest, through which nevertheless, here and there, the traces of former cultivation and the mouldering remains of huts are to be seen. According to Bíllama, as late as a few years ago a large portion of this district was inhabited by Kanúri and Gámerghú, the latter, most probably, having taken possession of the lands abandoned by the Marghí; but ʿAli Déndal, who has ruled it for Abú Bakr, the son of ʿOmár, a youth without intelligence, and only anxious to make the most of his province, has ruined it by his rapacity: he, however, was soon to be ruined himself. There was a small spot where the forest had been cleared away for cultivation,—a proof that the natives, if they were only humanely treated by the government, would not be wanting in exertion.

The forest was partly filled up by a dense jungle of reed-grass, of such a height as to cover horse and rider. The soil is of a black, boggy, argillaceous nature, and full of holes, which make the passage through this tract extremely difficult in the latter part of the rainy season. My companions also drew my attention to the bee-hives underground, from which a peculiar kind of honey is obtained, which I shall repeatedly have occasion to mention in the course of my narrative.

After three hours’ march through this wild and unpleasant country, we reached a small village called Yerímarí, which, according to Bíllama, had formerly been of much greater size; at present it is inhabited by a few Marghí Mohammedan proselytes. There being only one hut in the yard assigned to us, I preferred pitching my tent, thinking that the storm which had threatened us in the afternoon had passed by, as the clouds had gone westwards. However, I soon learned that, in tropical climes, there is no certainty of a storm having passed away, the clouds often returning from the opposite quarter.

We had already retired to rest when the tempest burst upon us with terrible fury, threatening to tear my weak little tent to pieces. Fortunately the top-ropes were well-fastened; and, planting myself against the quarter from whence the wind blew, I succeeded in keeping it upright. The rain came down in torrents; and, though the tent excluded it tolerably well from above, the water rushed in from below and wetted my luggage. But as soon as it fairly begins to rain, a traveller in a tolerable tent is safe; for then the heavy gale ceases. Sitting down upon my camp-stool, I quietly awaited the end of the storm, when I betook myself to the hut, where I found Mʿallem Katúri and Bú-Sʿad comfortably stretched.

Saturday, June 7th.We set out at a tolerably early hour, being all very wet. The rain had been so heavy that the labours of the field could be deferred no longer; and close to the village we saw a couple sowing their little field, the man going on in advance, and making holes in the ground at equal distances with a hoe of about five feet long (the “kíski kúllobe”), while his wife, following him, threw a few grains of seed into each hole. These people certainly had nothing to lose; and in order not to risk their little stock of seed, they had waited till the ground was thoroughly drenched, while some people commit their grain to the ground at the very setting in of the rainy season, and risk the loss of it if the rains should delay too long. After we had passed a small village called Keríkasáma, the forest became very thick; and for a whole hour we followed the immense footprints of an elephant, which had found it convenient to keep along the beaten path, to the great annoyance of succeeding travellers, who had, in consequence, to stumble over the deep holes made by the impression of its feet.

About eleven o’clock we reached the outskirts of Molghoy, having passed, half an hour before, a number of round holes, about four feet wide and five feet deep, made intentionally, just at the spot where the path was hemmed in between a deep fiumara to the left and uneven ground to the right, in order to keep off a sudden hostile attack, particularly of cavalry. Molghoy is the name of a district rather than of a village; as the pagan countries, in general, seem to be inhabited, not in distinct villages and towns, where the dwellings stand closely together, but in single farms and hamlets, or clusters of huts, each of which contains an entire family, spreading over a wide expanse of country, each man’s fields lying close around his dwelling. The fields, however, of Molghoy had a very sad and dismal aspect, although they were shaded and beautifully adorned by numerous karáge-trees. Though the rainy season had long set in, none of these fine fields were sown this year, but still presented the old furrows of former years; and all around was silent and inert, bearing evident signs, if not of desolation, at least of oppression.

I had already dismounted, being a little weak and fatigued after my last sleepless night’s uncomfortable drenching, hoping that we should here pass the heat of the day; but there seemed to be nothing left for us to eat, and after some conversation with a solitary inhabitant, Bíllama informed me that we were to proceed to another village, which likewise belongs to Molghoy. We therefore continued our march, and soon after entered a dense forest, where we had more enjoyment of wild fruits, principally of one called “fóti,” of the size of an apricot, and with three large kernels, the pulp of which was very pleasant. Behind the little hamlet Dalá Dísowa I saw the first specimen of the sacred groves of the Marghí—a dense part of the forest surrounded with a ditch, where, in the most luxuriant and widest-spreading tree, their god “Tumbí” is worshipped.

It was one o’clock in the afternoon when we reached the village where we expected to find quarters. It also is called Molghoy, and is divided into two groups by a water-course or komádugu (as the Kanúri, dílle as the Marghí call it) about twenty-five yards wide, and inclosed by steep banks. My kashélla, deprived of his former irresistible authority, was now reduced to politeness and artifice; and having crossed the channel, which at present retained only a pool of stagnant water, and was richly overgrown with succulent grass, we lay down on its eastern bank in the cool shade of some luxuriant kúrna-trees, the largest trees of this species I have ever seen, where we spread all our luggage, which had been wetted the preceding night, out to dry, while the horses were grazing upon the fresh herbage. In this cool and pleasant spot, which afforded a view over a great part of the village, I breakfasted upon “chébchebé,” a light and palatable Kanúri sweetmeat, and upon “núfu,” or habb’ el azíz, dug up in large quantities almost over the whole of Bórnu.

By and by, as another storm seemed impending, we looked about for quarters, and I with my three servants and Mʿallem Katúri took possession of a small courtyard inclosed with a light fence four feet high composed of mats and thorny bushes, which contained four huts, while a fifth, together with the granary, had fallen in. The huts, however, were rather narrow, encumbered as they were with a great deal of earthenware, besides the large “gébam” or urn, containing the necessary quantity of corn for about a week, and the “bázam” or the water-jar; and the doors—if doors they could be called—were so extremely small, while they were raised about a foot from the ground, that a person not accustomed to the task had the greatest difficulty to creep in. These narrow doors were direct proofs of the great power of the rains in these climes, against which the natives have to protect themselves, as well as the raised and well-plastered floors of the huts, while reed is still the prevalent and almost exclusive material for the whole building. As for my own hut, it had the advantage of a contrivance to render the passage of the opening a little more easy, without diminishing the protection against the inclemency of the weather; for that part of the front of the hut which intervened between the doorway and the floor of the hut was movable, and made to fold up. Each family has its own separate courtyard, which forms a little cluster of huts by itself, and is often a considerable distance from the next yard. This kind of dwelling has certainly something very cheerful and pleasant in a simple and peaceable state of society, while it offers also the great advantage of protecting the villages against wholesale conflagrations, but it is liable to a very great disadvantage in a community which is threatened continually by sudden inroads from relentless enemies and slave-hunters.

The storm luckily passing by, I walked through the village, and visited several courtyards. The inhabitants, who, at least outwardly, have become Mohammedans, go entirely naked, with the exception of a narrow strip of leather, which they pass between the legs and fasten round their waist. But even this very simple and scanty covering they seem to think unnecessary at times. I was struck by the beauty and symmetry of their forms, which were thus entirely exposed to view, and by the regularity of their features, which are not disfigured by incisions, and in some had nothing of what is called the Negro type; but I was still more astonished at their complexion, which was very different in different individuals, being in some of a glossy black, and in others of a light copper, or rather rhubarb colour, the intermediate shades being almost entirely wanting. Although the black shade seemed to prevail, I arrived at the conclusion that the copper colour was the original complexion of the tribe, the black shade being due to intermixture with surrounding nations. But the same variety of shades has been observed in many other tribes, as well on this continent as in Asia.