SETTING OUT FOR BAGÍRMI. — THE COUNTRY OF KÓTOKÓ.

I had returned to the town on the 1st of February, 1852; on the 4th of March I again set out on a journey to Bagírmi. However, I did not feel very confident as to the success of my enterprise. The sultan of Bagírmi was reported as being absent from his capital on an expedition to the south-east of his dominions; but I was given to understand that there would be no great difficulty in addressing myself to the lieutenant-governor, whom he had left to represent him in his absence, in order to be allowed to join him, and to be thus enabled to explore those more southern regions which by myself I had no prospect of visiting. I introduced myself, accordingly, to the agent of that prince, who resides in Kúkawa. This man is a eunuch, who was made prisoner by the Kanúri in the second battle of Ngála, and had risen to the dignity of mestréma, or first eunuch, of the sultan of Bórnu. But although I made him a small present, he received me rather coolly, and did not inspire me with much confidence as to my ultimate success.

I had exhausted my means entirely, having been obliged to purchase at high prices, for credit, even the very small supply of presents which I was able to take with me. I had only two very indifferent servants, Mohammed ben Habíb and Mohammed ben Áhmed, both young lads from Fezzán, as limited in their intelligence as they were conceited in their pretensions as Moslemín, and not possessing the least knowledge of the country which we were about to visit.

The only animals I had for my conveyance were a horse and a she-camel. Hence I did not set out with that spirit of confidence which ensures success; but, having determined to return to Europe if new supplies did not very soon arrive, I resolved to make a last desperate attempt to accomplish something before I finally left the country.

Mr. Overweg accompanied me as far as Ngórnu, where we took up our quarters with my friend the kashélla Kótokó. Here, in my present destitute condition, I was greatly delighted at receiving, by private message from the vizier, a small parcel of coffee, and from the mʿallem Mohammed, a loaf of sugar. Such tokens of disinterested friendship are very gratifying to the traveller in a foreign land.

Friday, March 5th.At the beginning of the cotton-plantation I took leave of my European companion. He was to make an excursion, accompanied by Kótokó, along the shores of the lake towards Máduwári—the very place where, in the course of a few months, he was destined to succumb.

I had received from the mestréma a trooper as escort; but he was not the kind of man I should have liked. If phrenologists had taken his features as the general type of the Negro race, they would have felt themselves authorized in assigning to them a more intimate affinity with monkeys than with men; and his cheerless but self-conceited disposition was in perfect harmony with his exterior.

The waters of the lagoon had already considerably decreased, laying bare fine fresh pasture-grounds, on which numerous herds of cattle were grazing, while small pools of stagnant water, left behind by the retiring inundation, afforded some relief to the monotony of the plain. A great deal of cotton is cultivated on these fertile grounds, and an immense deal more might be cultivated. The people were busy in all directions in the labours of the field, while, on those grounds which were not cultivated, the luxuriant weed of the Asclepias was re-assuming its ordinary domain. Scarcely a single tree was to be seen; and only as we proceeded onwards a few specimens gradually appeared.

Thus we passed the village of Kúkiya, where we had taken up our first night’s quarters on the expedition to Músgu. Here the deep sandy soil was at times enlivened by isolated clusters of the dúm-bush; and people were digging, here and there, for the rush-nut (“hab el ʿazíz” or “nefú,” Cyperus esculentus) which I have mentioned on former occasions. A tract of indifferent cultivation was relieved by a fine field of wheat, belonging to several of the great men or kokanáwa of Kúkawa. Having here watered our horses, we wanted to make a halt during the heat of the day, at a hamlet belonging to Háj Ibrahím; but we were rather inhospitably received, and stretched ourselves therefore under the shade of a caoutchouc-tree at some distance from the village. The tree was remarkable on account of a peculiar “sáfi” or charm, which testified to the many remains of pagan rites still lingering in these countries. It consisted of two earthern pots placed one upon the other, and filled with a peculiar substance, and was supposed to guarantee prolificness to the mares of the village. The ground being an ordinary resting-place for travellers, swarmed with insects, principally that large kind of “karí” common to the cattle in this country.

When we started again in the afternoon, we met a caravan, consisting of camels and pack-oxen laden with Guinea corn, which one of our friend Lamíno’s people was taking to town from his master’s plantation. At an early hour we reached Yédi, which we had also touched at on our expedition to Músgu. I intended to have taken up my quarters inside the town; but the streets were so narrow that I preferred encamping outside. A young Shúwa lad here offered his services to me. At the well where we had watered our horses he had rendered us gratuitous assistance; and I had given him a few needles in return. Being in want of a servant, I accepted his offer, and had strong reason in the course of my travels to be glad of having done so; for although in the beginning he caused me some trouble, and behaved at times rather awkwardly, he proved on the whole a very useful servant.

I was hospitably treated in the evening by a young man of the name of Degéji, who had accompanied Mr. Overweg on his voyage on the lake. He was a barber and a musician, and rather a gay sort of person.

Saturday, March 6th.We followed the direct route for Ngála. The country, open at the commencement, became gradually covered by the dúm-bush, and further on by middle-sized trees of various kinds. Besides the wife of my escort trooper, who was to pay a visit to her father in Bagírmi, and who was at least a degree better than her husband, a very cheerful man of the name of Kágo had attached himself to our little troop. He had been acquainted with the members of the former expedition, and was anxious to give me all possible information with regard to the qualities of the various trees and bushes which adorned the wilderness, especially the kári, karáwa, and látram; and on this occasion I learnt that a kind of disease, which would seem to be the stigma of a closely-packed civilization, is not at all rare in these countries: it is here called “dun.” Everything testifies to the richness of this country, which is now left to utter neglect. The population of the small villages which dot the landscape is mixed, consisting one half of Kanúri, and the other of Shúwa; and I was not a little surprised to find in one of them, which belongs to a man named Mʿallem Tálbay Sámi, Felláta or Fúlbe mixed with the Kanúri. Most of the Shúwa had already deserted their villages for temporary residences in other quarters.

At an early hour we halted in the village Kostári, the inhabitants of which had seen me on a former occasion. They seem to be very poor, which may however be attributed to their laziness. According to their own account, they were living almost entirely upon the waterfowl which frequent the shores of the lagoon in countless numbers; and indeed the whole village was full of wild geese and ducks. However, I succeeded in getting a little milk, some honey, and kréb, or kashá,—a kind of seed, probably identical with the Poa Abyssinica, but of which there are different species: here in Bórnu there are principally two species, called “kashá ngórgo” and “kashá magáya,” while in Wádáy there are three or four, called “denáng,” “líliyák,” “shorók,” and tanfáfanáng, besides a collateral species called “felé.”

It is very remarkable that, while the waters of the lake are fresh, most of the water which is obtained hereabouts, at a very short distance from its shore, is full of natron. The water of this place was so impregnated with that mineral, that it was scarcely drinkable, which was felt the more as the air was oppressive in the extreme; and I felt so exhausted at the commencement of my journey, and after a long stay in the town, that I was obliged to recruit my strength with a small remnant of mastico which I had with me. The heat was so intense that I felt very grateful when, later in the afternoon, a slight breeze sprung up. My poor animals, however, fared still worse than myself, being tormented by a large blood-sucking fly.

Major Denham travelled, on this route, along the south side of the lake: but the road which he took is now entirely given up, on account of the insecurity of the country, and the place or rather district Keskári mentioned by him, lying from three to four hours’ march north-east from this place, is entirely deserted; we therefore followed a more southerly road.

The first object which attracted our attention here was a herd of wild hogs, an animal which I had very rarely seen in these regions, but which I afterwards found frequenting in great numbers the country bordering on the river Shári; it even seems to form a substantial part of the food of the natives, not excepting the Mohammedans.

While we were winding along the narrow path leading through the forest, the vegetation all at once exhibited an entirely new and very remarkable feature; for here, all on a sudden, I saw a group of perhaps ten or twelve large trees of arborescent Euphorbiaceæ. I have mentioned small specimens of euphorbia, on my journey through Dámerghú, and even in Háusa; but I had afterwards almost entirely lost sight of it in Negroland. Here, however, this plant grows to a height of certainly not less than from thirty to thirty-five feet, its succulent, luxuriant, cactus-like leaves contrasting in a very remarkable manner with the monotonous and dry vegetation of the mimosas around. There must be something very peculiar in the soil in this tract; for I never afterwards, in the whole of my travels, beheld the euphorbia attain to such an altitude, the greatest height which I saw it reach being twenty feet. This was in the country of Músgu, in an entirely isolated instance; and even on the journey to Bagírmi I did not meet with a single specimen of this plant, however small.

Proceeding through a part of the forest which exhibited a fresher appearance, and which was enlivened by a troop of horsemen whom we met, we reached the village of Dábuwa at five o’clock in the afternoon. Here we were hospitably received, in consequence of the persuasive manners of my cheerful companion Kágo, while the apish grimaces of the trooper who formed my official escort were quite disregarded. Poultry, milk, and negro corn were given to us for our supper in the evening. In this place the people are not so badly off for water, the well measuring not more than five fathoms.

Sunday, March 7th.When we started, we entered a very dense part of the forest (“karága tsílim,” as the Kanúri say), with a rich variety of trees, but all of middle size, and not a single tamarind- or monkey-bread tree was to be seen. As we proceeded, however, the country became a little more open, the “karága tsílim” giving way to the “dírridé,” or clear forest, and signs of cultivation were seen. Here I observed that the clayey soil, or “ánge,” was intersected by small ridges, in order to retain the water, during the rainy season, for the cultivation of the másakuwá. Cotton also seemed to be cultivated to some extent. In this district too the villages contained a mixed population of Shúwa and Kanúri. The village Gujári, which we passed further on, was distinguished by an extensive pottery. Here the road was enlivened by a numerous caravan of pack-oxen laden with grain, on their way to Díkowa, the town described on my expedition to the Músgu country; for, as I have there stated, the cultivation of that place is almost entirely limited to cotton, while all the corn which is required for the consumption of the inhabitants is imported. The cotton is not carried by beasts of burden, but on the heads of the natives; and a little further on we met a numerous train of these people, whose appearance imparted some idea of industry. Passing on our road many patches of that black boggy soil, called “fírki” or “ánge,” which I have described on a former occasion, we reached the small village of Hókkum at about half-past eight in the morning.

We had expressly chosen this road in order to avoid the wells of bitter water in the village Jémage, which lies on the southern road; but here we fared worse, for there was no water at all in the village, and we had to send to a great distance to get a small supply, the quality of which was anything but agreeable. This scarcity of water, however, seemed to arise only from the laziness of the inhabitants; for the wells are not more than three fathoms deep, and the floods of the lake themselves occasionally approach so near that it has been found necessary to protect the village on its north side by a dyke. Here we passed the heat of the day in the shade of a kórna-tree, the fruit of which, being just ripe, in want of some better indulgence, we did not despise.

I was greatly surprised to observe here that salt is obtained by burning the dung of cattle. It is indeed very remarkable how the poorer people in Negroland endeavour to supply their want of this article, which in every stage of society has become such an essential ingredient of common diet.

About half an hour after starting in the afternoon, we reached a considerable watercourse, which, bordered by fine spreading trees, had a very pleasant appearance. It is called Komádugu Ímbulú, or Mbulú. This watercourse was asserted by my companion Kágo to be entirely distinct from the Yálowe, or komádugu of Díkowa; and from the experience I had on my return-journey I think he was correct. The banks of the watercourse were twelve feet high; its breadth was from twenty to twenty-five yards; but the depth of the water was only a foot and a half. No current was then perceptible. The trees of the forest, after we left this watercourse, were of a greater variety, but all of rather stunted growth. We observed here great quantities of the grass called kréb or kashá, which I have before mentioned, and which constitutes a considerable part of the food of the poorer inhabitants. We passed several towns in a state of the utmost decay and entirely deserted; and traversing a dense underwood, which we scarcely expected to see in the neighbourhood of a large town, reached at five o’clock the clay walls of Ngála.

The interior of this town has a very peculiar character, and nothing similar to it is seen in any part of Negroland, although the place at present is in a great state of decay; for all the ancient quarter of the town consists of clay houses, built on an imposing and elevated terrace. The palace of the governor is indeed something quite stupendous for these regions, having, with its immense substructure, and its large and towering walls, the appearance of a large citadel. We were quartered in the extensive mansion of the gedádo or delátu, in which Mr. Tully died; but it, as well as the whole of the town, was in the utmost state of decay. The times of Méram, the beloved wife of the sheikh Mohammed el Amín el Kánemy, had gone by; and the wealth of Ngála had been consumed by the slaves of the present sheikh and his vizier. The once magnificent palace of Méram itself is nothing but a large, desolate heap of ruins.

The quarters, however, which were assigned to me were in a tolerable state of repair, consisting, as they did, of an upper story, which afforded me sufficient protection against the numbers of mosquitoes which infest the place. We remained here the following day, when I went to pay a visit to the governor at his residence; but I felt rather sorry for it, as the good impression which the imposing exterior of the palace had made upon me, was destroyed by the ruinous and desolate state of the interior. The whole province is now in a very neglected condition, such as would indicate that the ruler of the country himself acknowledged his incapability of defending his subjects against another inroad of the Wádáy.

PROVINCE OF LOGÓN. — LOGÓN BÍRNI.

Kála is the first town of the territory of Logón or Lógone, the boundary of which we had crossed a short time before. Having entered the town through an extremely narrow gate, which scarcely allowed my bare and slender she-camel to pass through, after having taken from her back the whole load, I was struck with the very different aspect it exhibited from the regions we had just left; for while the dwellings testified to a certain degree of civilization, the inhabitants themselves seemed to approach nearer to the pagans than to the Mohammedans. We had scarcely entered the town when we were surrounded by a troop of boys and young lads from seven to twelve years of age, tall and well built, and in a state of entire nudity, a thing hardly ever seen in the country of Bórnu, even with slaves. The type of their features, however, was very different from the general type observed in the Bórnu people, and seemed to indicate more intelligence and cunning. I have already observed, in the country of Músgu, how the state of the dwellings contrasts with the apparel, or rather the want of apparel, of the people themselves; but here it seemed more remarkable, for the dwellings in general did not consist of round conical huts, but of spacious oblong houses of clay, of considerable elevation. I was quartered in one of these structures, but found it rather close, and full of dust.

The town presented an appearance of the utmost decay, only a few dwellings remaining in the centre of it; and the only remarkable objects were two palm-trees, one of which I had already observed from without: and I now assured myself that they were not date-trees, but belonged to the fan-shaped group of palms. But they were not bifurcated, and seemed not to belong to the Cucifera Thebaïca, nor were they identical with the deléb-palm. At any rate they were the tallest specimens which I ever remember to have seen of the fan-shaped tribe, their height appearing more extraordinary on account of the small tuft of leaves, which was confined to the very top. The town itself presenting no very interesting features, I went out in the afternoon, and lay down for an hour or two, in the shade of one of those beautiful fig-trees which, fed by a large and deep swamp, surround the town on all sides; but, the more pleasant was my day’s repose, the more disagreeable was my night’s rest, for, owing to these stagnant pools, the town is full of mosquitoes, and neither I myself nor any of my companions were able to get any sleep the whole of the ensuing night.

We therefore rose very early in the following morning, long before day-break, and at four o’clock had already left the gate of the town behind us. There is still a great deal of cultivation of cotton to be seen, even in the present state of decay to which this province is reduced; but an immense deal more might be cultivated. Then followed fields of sorghum; and further on, the lowing of cattle and the cackling of hens indicated the presence of a Shúwa village at some distance on our left. Cultivated ground and forest alternately succeeded each other, the wild hog being seen in every direction, while numerous villages were lying about here and there, but at present all deserted, the inhabitants, who belong to the Shúwa, migrating during the dry season towards a large shallow watercourse in the south-west, where they find fresher pasture-grounds for their cattle. This watercourse or ngáljam is famous under several names, being called Bawísh, Madéf, and Burbéde. We then passed on our left the town Úlluf, Húlluf, or Hélib, surrounded by a high clay wall, and almost hidden behind wide-spreading fig-trees, just as is the case with Kála. This town, the name of which is pronounced “Elf” by the Arabs, and of the origin of which they give very absurd accounts, is ill-famed for the presumed witchcraft and sorcery of its inhabitants; and this was the only reason which prevented my companions from staying here during the heat of the day.

We therefore continued our march; and, having passed another swamp, entered a well-cultivated district, where a great deal of sorghum was grown. I was however surprised at seeing the stacks of grain, or, as they are called in Kanúri, bágga argúmbe, still standing in the fields.

We encamped a little beyond the temporary village of Sheikh el Khasés, close to an extensive sheet of water, under the shade of a beautiful tamarind-tree. This piece of water, as the people assured me, only dries up annually for a short time, when the rainy season again fills it. All these native Arabs, as I have already had occasion to remark, are very inhospitable; and the people here, where we had encamped, did not offer us any refreshment. However I succeeded in buying from them a little honey, for a few needles.

When we started again in the afternoon, we had great difficulty in avoiding the swamps. The country at times was well cultivated, producing, besides sorghum, a quantity of beans of the speckled kind; but I was not a little astonished to see, in the midst of the stubble-fields, young crops of that variety of sorghum called “másakuwá.” This is a very rare sight in these countries in the month of March, as in general this winter corn is got in during December or January. We then entered a forest, and, following a winding path, reached the rather considerable village Múnke, which belongs to Logón, but is inhabited chiefly by Kanúri. Here I pitched my tent in the market-place, and was not a little pestered by numbers of inquisitive people.

Saturday, March 13th.The country through which we passed as we drew nearer the capital of Logón, was of a rich and fertile character, but insufficiently cultivated. Besides grain, there was a great deal of cotton; and numbers of trees of various species gave it a charming appearance, the beautifully rich foliage of several of them relieving entirely the monotony which is usual in these Central African forests. Amongst the underwood the dúm-bush was predominant; gradually, however, the “harás” or “karáge” tree began to prevail. The pods of this tree, which contain the seeds, are not only much liked by camels, but also by monkeys and hogs, both of which seemed to be very numerous, and lived together in the greatest harmony. Numerous holes of the earth-hog (Orycteropus Æthiopiensis) were likewise to be seen.

We met a number of native travellers and people going to market, who saluted us in a cheerful manner, and bore testimony to the fact that we were drawing near a larger place; and the neighbourhood of the town was still further indicated by women who had come out to gather wood for the supply of the market. Here I was agreeably surprised to see again my noble old acquaintance of the Músgu country, the deléb-palm or “uray.” At first a single specimen appeared towering with its proud fanlike foliage over the numerous karáge-trees that still continued to retain their predominant position in the vegetable kingdom; but when the clayey soil gave way to sand, a large group met the eye, in close array, and full of fruit. It was, however, entirely limited to this locality, and I did not meet another specimen between this place and the town.

When we arrived in sight of the wall, my horseman changed his dress, and put on a new glittering black Núpe tobe, in order to make his entrance with greater éclat, while I was not a little pleased to meet again here some travelling companions of mine, in whose company I had crossed the Bénuwé on my journey to Ádamáwa, and who were once more on their way to the east. We then entered the capital of Logón—Logón Bírni, or Kárnak Lóggon, as it is called by the Shúwa, or Kárnak Lógone or Lóggene, as it is called by the Kanúri. The town on this side (the north-western) has only one gate; and it was so narrow that we were obliged to unload the camel before we were able to pass through. The energy and activity of this place is naturally concentrated on the eastern side towards the river, where it has seven gates.

The interior of the town, where we entered it, had not a very animated appearance. The cottages, belonging evidently to the poorer classes of people, are in a wretched condition; and the only animation which the scenery presented was due to a group of dúm-palms, towering over this poor quarter from the north side. The character of the place improved, however, as we advanced; the streets were tolerably large, and I was struck with the appearance of the principal street, or déndal, which is formed by the palace of the sultan or míyará, towards the south, and the house of the Keghámma or Ibálaghwán, towards the north.

The entrance to the palace of the sultan—the “raána míyará” in the kélakú Logón or language of Logón,—is towards the east, where there is an open square, shaded by a few trees; here I was obliged to wait a long time on horseback, while my quarters were getting ready, for etiquette did not allow me to dismount. The sun was very powerful, and my situation not exactly pleasant; but it afforded me some amusement to observe the flights of falcons and other birds, who were nestling in the top of a group of tall dúm-palms which towered above the walls of the mosque opposite the palace.

I had also the pleasure of recognizing an old friend of Major Denham’s, namely, Belál, the man who accompanied him as well on his expedition to the Shárí as to Kánem. This man, whose real name was Mʿadi, and who was an extremely amiable and good-humoured personage, with a disposition akin to the character of Europeans, continued my friend during the remainder of my stay in Bórnu. His errand here at present was to collect the annual tribute which the ruler of the country of Logón has to pay to the sheikh of Bórnu.

The quarters assigned to me were situated in the upper story of the palace of the Ibálaghwán, which surprised me not a little by the superior and even grand style of its architecture. This very spacious palace consists of a number of wings inclosing small quadrangular courtyards, and having an upper story of extensive apartments. The only part which did not correspond with the magnificence of the rest of the building, was the staircase, which was rather dark and inconvenient. My own apartment was not less than thirty-five feet long, by fifteen wide, and as many high, and received sufficient light from two semicircular windows, which, of course, had no glass, but could be closed by means of a shutter of reed. The ceiling was gable-shaped—rather a remarkable phenomenon in these countries; it was filled out with thatchwork.

But not only were my quarters excellent, but the treatment I received also was hospitable in the extreme; for I had scarcely taken possession of my lodgings when a bowl of very excellent pudding made its appearance. The thievish propensities of the people of Logón are very remarkable; and the first intimation which I received of it was an official caution given to me to beware of the slaves of my house.