Yúsuf, or, as the people of Logón say, Ýsuf (this is the name of the present sultan), is a tall, stout, and well-built man, apparently about forty years of age, with large features and a rather melancholy expression of countenance, which I attribute to his peculiar and precarious political situation, being the ruler of a small kingdom placed between two predominant neighbours, who harass him incessantly. He has been sultan about nineteen years, and was a young man at the time of Denham’s visit, when his father Sále and his elder brother ʿAbd el Kerím shared or rather disputed the government with each other. He had two more elder brothers of the names of Chiróma and Marúfi, both of whom died before him. Just at or shortly before the beginning of his reign, as it would seem, owing to an expedition into the country by Dáúd, one of the war-slaves of the sheikh Mohammed el Kánemí, Logón became a tributary province of Bórnu, being subjected to an annual tribute of one hundred slaves, and the same number of shirts or tobes. Previous to that time, the ruler of this little country is said to have made an annual present of only two slaves.

Our treatment was hospitable in the extreme; and it seemed almost as if our host had a mind to kill us with excess of kindness, for in the evening he sent us four enormous bowls of well-prepared pudding of sorghum, together with meat and broth, and early the next morning a large bowl of gruel seasoned with honey, and a few moments afterwards three or four bowls of hasty-pudding. Fortunately there were people enough to consume this plenteous supply of food; for there was a large party of Bagírmi people returning to their country from Kúkawa, and to them I gave up these luxuries, but afterwards they repaid my kindness with ingratitude. Being desirous of having a look at the town, I sallied forth in the afternoon with a well-mounted trooper, who was attached to my friend Kashélla Mʿadi, by the western gate, and then turning round towards the east, proceeded in the direction of the river.

At this corner the river bends away from the wall to the distance of about an English mile, being from 350 to 400 yards across; the western shore was low at this point, but on the opposite side it rose to the height of from 12 to 15 feet. It was enlivened by about 40 or 50 boats, most of them about 4 feet at the bottom, and 6 feet at the top, and remarkable for their formidable prows. All these boats are built in the same way as those of the Búdduma, with this exception, that the planks consist of stronger wood, mostly bírgim, and are generally of larger size, while those of the Búdduma consist of the frailest material, viz. the wood of the fógo. The joints of the planks are provided with holes through which ropes are passed, overlaid with bands of reed, and are tightly fastened upon them by smaller ropes, which are again passed through small holes stuffed with grass. Their elevated prow seems to indicate the shallowness of the water as well as the vehemence of the current which in certain seasons of the year sweeps down the river, and which I experienced on my return when it was full. At present, the water was rather shallow, and several sand banks were to be seen. My principal attention was attracted by the fishing boats, which were furnished with large nets suspended from the poop by two immensely long poles, called “the two hands,” “músko ndí,” by the Kanúri people, and “sémi” by the people of Logón.

We then continued along the shore, which becomes gradually more and more compressed between the wall and the river. Where the latter approaches nearest the wall there are corn-fields, which are continually irrigated from the river. The stalks of the corn at present were 1½ foot high. As I have observed in another place, wheat has only recently been introduced into Negroland, and wherever a little is grown it is only known by the Arabic name “el kámeh.” The generality of the inhabitants do not relish it, but it is esteemed a princely food. Of course, corn is also dearer where it does not grow spontaneously, the tropical rains being too powerful for the tender plant, so that it can only be grown in the dry or rather the cold season, near the rivers or swamps, by artificial irrigation.

Delighted with the view which the scenery of the river exhibited, we reached the most eastern gate on the south side of the town, when suddenly an old man with an imperious air forbade me to survey the river, and ordered me to retrace my steps directly. I was rather startled and confounded, as, having the permission of the sultan, I could not imagine who besides himself had such authority in the place, and could forbid me to do what he had allowed me; but my companion informed me that he was the king of the waters, the “maráleghá,” and that he had full command over the river or “lagham.” I had heard and read a great deal of the authority of the king of the waters, the “serkí-n-rúwa,” in the countries on the Niger, but I was not aware that a similar custom prevailed here. Confused, and rather ashamed, I re-entered the town through the next gate.

Close to this gate was the house of the Ghaladíma, or Malághwán; and I was induced to pay him a visit. He seemed to be rather an effeminate person, living in a dark and well-perfumed room. The visit was of no other interest than that it gave me some further insight into the ceremonial of the court of this little kingdom, the very existence of which was denied by so eminent a man as M. Fresnel a few years ago.[26]

The first thing I did on returning to my quarters was to expostulate with the keghámma on the authority exercised by his colleague, the king of the waters; and he promised me that the next day I should visit the river, and even navigate it, without the least hindrance. However, there was so much talk in the town about my surveying the stream, that I was obliged in the course of the afternoon to pay the vizier another visit. He was very anxious to know whether if once embarked in a boat upon the water I might not jump out in order to search for gold; when I told him I was rather afraid of the crocodiles. This expression of my fear contributed a great deal to alleviate his suspicions, for it seemed that until then he had supposed Europeans to be a sort of supernatural beings, and exempt from every kind of fear.

Our treatment was hospitable in the extreme,—so much so that two hundred persons might have feasted upon the dishes that were sent to me. But besides all these dishes of native food, my hospitable host sent for my own private consumption a large fat sheep, and an enormous jar of milk. This very splendid treatment, however, created a great deal of jealous and envious feeling in the breasts of those Bagírmi people whom I have before mentioned, although they themselves reaped the greatest benefit from the liberality of the sultan towards me. From what I observed, I think I may draw the conclusion that it is the general policy of the ruler of this little tributary kingdom to treat his guests well, and certainly it is a wise one; but I dare say I was especially favoured by the sultan.

March 15th.With extreme delight I had cherished the plan of navigating the river, although, of course, from the very beginning I could not expect to achieve great things, for the means which were at my disposal at the time did not allow me to overcome any serious obstacles which might be thrown in my way; but besides this, the authority of this little prince of Logón extends only a short distance along the shores of the river.

At eight o’clock I was aboard of my little boat or “wöam.”[27] I thought that I should have got one of the largest size; but none was to be obtained. The boat, however, which was finally assigned to me, though measuring only twenty-five feet in length by about four feet in the middle, was tolerably strong, the planks of which it consisted being recently sewn and stuffed in the way above described; but, of course, this method of shipbuilding is far from rendering the vessel watertight. The boats being without seats, large bundles of reeds are placed at the bottom for the passengers to sit upon, with nothing to prevent them from being drenched with water.

While we crossed to the other side of the river, passing numerous sandbanks which at present had been laid bare, the town presented quite an interesting prospect, the wall being overtopped by dúm-palms, or “gurúru,” a pair of deléb-palms, “murgúm,” and an isolated date-tree, “díffino,”[28] these three species of palms growing together in this place in a very remarkable manner; for it is a rare thing to find them in one and the same spot.

The river, while skirting the town, forms a bend, and changes its course from a west-easterly to a northerly direction. While gliding along the eastern shore my companions called my attention to a species of very tall reed, which they call korókoró, but which is nothing else than the papyrus, which, as I have observed, grows on the shores of the Tsád, and which we shall find in several smaller lakes. But it was highly interesting to me to hear that the natives in this country prepare a peculiar sort of cloth or “gábagá” from it, which I think must be identical with the cloth mentioned by Arab writers under the name “wórzi” or “berdí,” being the Egyptian name for papyrus. However, I did not observe here several other species of the reed which grows on the Tsád, principally the bolé; and on inquiring for that beautiful variety from which the fine matting “kasár” or “farfar” is made, and for which the people of Logón are so celebrated, I was informed by my companions that it only grows near the large market-town Jínna, of which I shall have occasion to say something more further on. I was very anxious to know how the natives called this river, to which, by Major Denham, the name of Shárí or Sháry has been given, and I was confirmed in the opinion which I had previously formed, that this river is not the Shárí, but a small branch of it; Major Denham, during the short stay which he made here, not being able to ascertain that this river, which he saw at the town of Logón, was not the same as that which he saw at Kúsuri, but only a branch of it, and the smaller one. However, all the names given to rivers by the various tribes of Negroland have no other signification than that general one of “water,” “river,” from the western great “Bá,” of the Mandingoes by the Ísa of the Sónghay, Eghírrëu of the Imóshagh, “Máyo” of the Fúlbe, Gulbí of the Háusa, Kwára of the Yóruba, Bénuwé of the Bátta, Komádugu of the Kanúri, the eastern “Bá” of the Bagírmi, the Fittrí of the Kúka, the Bat-há of the Arabs of Wádáy. Thus the name “Shárí” also signifies nothing more than “the river,” that is to say, the river of the Kótokó, to whose language this word belongs, and the word “tsáde,” or rather “tsádhe,” seems nothing but a different pronunciation of this same name, the original form of which is probably “sáre” or “sághe.”

This smaller western branch of the Shárí the natives of Logón call “Lághame na Lógone,” that is to say, the river (“lágham”) of Logón; but higher up it has different names, according to the places which it passes by, being called by the Músgu people in their own language “Éré,” or “Arré,” a name which itself means nothing else but river; while in another place, where I reached it on my expedition to the Músgu country, it bears the peculiar name “Serbéwuël,” I do not know exactly for what reason. Meanwhile we were passing by the village Hónkel, which lies on the western side of the river, and which as I shall soon have occasion to observe, was of great importance in the former history of this country. The river changing its direction here, we again approached the western shore, and saw that at least half the inhabitants of the town had come out to see what the Christian was doing on the river; for they could scarcely imagine that I had embarked for any other purpose than to search for gold. In the midst of the crowd some horsemen in a very showy dress were observed, and I was informed that they were people from Ádishén the Músgu chief, just arrived with a message; and I soon observed that they were priding themselves on a dress which they had received from their oppressors, on the expedition in which I and Mr. Overweg accompanied the latter.

Seeing a crocodile raising its head just above the water close to the other side of the river, I could not resist firing at it, when the crowd burst out in loud cheers of acclamation. The servants of the sultan, however, who had accompanied me in the boat, had been for some time uneasy, and wished me to return; and on reaching a beautiful solitary deléb-palm, or “margúm,” as they are called by the people of Logón, I could no longer resist the pleadings of my companions to abstain from proceeding further. We had here an extensive view over the river, its principal direction being from south 20° east. All these large and splendid streams with which nature has endowed these regions are now scarcely of any use to the people living on their banks; and no traffic, except between the nearest places, is kept up.[29] A wide field for improvement is here open to the energy of man when these regions have been brought under the notice and the influence of Europe.

Turning our boat, we allowed it to go along with the current. The surface of the water was so smooth and pleasant, that I was tempted to take a bath, and there was a great shouting amongst the crowd on the shore when they saw the white man jump overboard; but their surprise was great when, after having splashed about for some time in the river, the current of which was too strong for my weakened frame, they saw me come out empty-handed, and they cried out that they had been cheated,—the people having told them that I was searching for gold. However, when I disembarked, the crowd of spectators was so immense, that my companions could only open me a passage with their whips; and I was really glad when I again reached the house of the Keghámma or Ibálaghwán.

This little excursion, however, cost me dear; for those people of Bagírmi whom I have mentioned before, the principal among whom was called Háj Áhmed, seeing me creating such an uproar, felt inclined to suppose that, if I should enter their own country in the absence of the ruler, I might create a disturbance in the kingdom. The prince of Logón, likewise, had formed far too high an idea of my capacity, and begged me most earnestly to stay some time with him, thinking that he might derive some profit by making himself more independent of his neighbours. Amongst other things, he wanted me to fire off those two guns which I have mentioned before; but their whole appearance inspired me with too little confidence to do so.

As it was, I had a great deal of trouble in persuading the sultan to allow me to pursue my journey eastward; but seeing that if I were to stay here a few days longer I should spend the little I had left, I was firm in my purpose of extending my discoveries beyond my predecessors, Major Denham having already succeeded in reaching this place, although he has only very insufficiently described it, and entirely failed in fixing its right position. I therefore proceeded to take leave of Míyará Ýsuf the next morning, when I found him in the courtyard numbered f in the woodcut, which he seemed to use as stables. His whole stud, however, appeared to consist of only three or four horses of tolerable appearance. He himself was sitting on a raised platform of clay (segáge) dressed very simply, and wearing a red woollen shawl round his head. He was very kind and friendly, and begged me most urgently not to make a long stay in Bagírmi, but to return as soon as possible. Our conversation this time, as well as on the former occasion, was in Kanúri, which he understood perfectly well.

Logón is, it seems, not a national, but a political name, although I have not been able to make out its exact meaning.[30] The inhabitants belong to that great race of the Mása whom I have mentioned on a former occasion, being the brethren of the Músgu, and the kinsmen of the inhabitants of Mándará (the Ur-wándalá) and the Kótokó. Their political existence as people of Logón (or, as they call themselves, Lógodé Logón) is quite recent[31], and their Islám is of still more recent origin. Their country also, like that of the Músgu, was formerly split into a number of small principalities, the chief of Hónkel being the most powerful among them, till about a century and a half ago, when Bruwá, the predecessor of Míyará Mása, is said to have founded the town of Logón, and to have removed the seat of his principality to the present capital (“bírni,” or “kárnak”) of the country. But this ruler, as well as his immediate successors, was a pagan, and probably at that time there were only a few Mohammedans in the place; and Míyará Sále, the old prince whom Denham visited, the father of the present ruler Yúsuf, is said to have been the first among the petty princes of this country who were converted to Islám. Others assert that an older king, Mógha Jénna, was the first Moslim; and this is not at all improbable as the names of some of the kings who preceded Sále evidently show that the influence of Islamism, at least to outward appearance, was felt at a much earlier date.

With regard to the order of succession from Mása down to Sále, it seems that Mása was succeeded by a prince of the name of Úngo Aná-smadú, who was followed by Úngo Aná-logón, the prince to whom, possibly, the present name of the country Logón is to be referred; he was succeeded by Mógha ʿAlí, then followed Mógha Káder, and then the predecessor of Sále, namely, Má Sálikwá. Hence, at the very utmost the Mohammedan religion is not above sixty years old in this country; and many of the younger inhabitants of the place are well aware that their fathers were pagans by birth, and afterwards turned Mohammedans. Of course their Islám, even at present, is of a poor character; and the whole knowledge of religious matters which they possess, with the exception of a few elevated persons, consists of a few phrases which they learn by heart without understanding their meaning, and the practice of circumcision. In the country towns, however, even at present, most of the people are pagans.

The inhabitants of Logón fought repeatedly with their neighbours and kindred of Mándará, and seem to have been successful in that direction. They are also said to have once destroyed the town of Mélé, which lies on the eastern side of the river Shárí, and to have killed all the male inhabitants. The former sultans of Bórnu seem to have left the people of Logón in enjoyment of tolerable tranquillity, being content with a small tribute which they made them pay as a mark of subjection. But at present the tribute is considerable, considering the small extent of the country, and moreover the unfortunate petty prince of this small kingdom is compelled to pay another tribute to the sultan of Bagírmi, whose people harass him continually.

The name which the people of Logón give to their western neighbours is interesting, as its origin seems to go back into a remote age; for they call them Billangáre, or rather, “bílle Ngáre,” a name which was probably derived from Ngarú, the ancient capital of the Gháladí, or the western provinces of the Bórnu empire, which I have mentioned on a former occasion; “bílle” means people in general. As for their eastern neighbours, the Bagírmi people, they call them by the name of Mókkode, which might seem to have some connection with Makada, a name often applied to the country west of Abyssinia, and which I think is erroneously stated to mean Christian.

From the south-west the Fúlbe or Felláta press heavily upon them; and, as we have seen on the expedition to Músgu, the elderman in the village of Wáze, which belongs to the territory of Logón, is himself a Púllo or Felláta.

The people of Logón in former times seem to have made frequent inroads into the country of their neighbours and kinsmen the Músgu, in order to supply their want of slaves; but about eight years previous to my visit they seem to have suffered so severe a check in that quarter, as to make them desist from undertaking any further expeditions. Upon that occasion they lost their commander-in-chief, Keghámma or Ibálaghwán Yáhia[32], the same who built the really imposing palace where I was lodged. This commander undertook an expedition into the Músgu country, not, as usual, by land, but by water, and having gone on shore near a village called Gúmmel, was taken by surprise, and together with the most valiant of his companions, was slain by the natives of the country.

The government seems to be a limited monarchy, the sovereign being surrounded by a number of high functionaries, who form the divan or “tálubá,” identical with the nógoná of the Bórnu people. The first of these high functionaries is the Ibálaghwán, next follows the Málaghwán or Gháladíma, then the Mairáy, then the Madám, the Mará-leghá or king of the water, the Wulangháy or Chiróma (the claimant to the succession), the Maraymarbá, the Madamátiyá, the Madám ukhsám, the Intháwa, the Mághawén akhthám, the Másaghé akhthám, and the Mághalé-muté.

The territory of Logón is most advantageously situated near the point of junction of two considerable rivers; the river of Logón, the Lágham, or Éré towards the west, and the Shárí or Bá towards the east; and it might be a most happy little kingdom if it were not overwhelmed and oppressed by its more powerful neighbours, who, as we have just seen, encroach upon it on all sides. But while the Bórnu people levy a more regular tribute, the people of Bagírmi seem to treat the poor inhabitants of the districts nearest their borders with the greatest injustice, subjecting them, in a very anomalous manner, to all sorts of contributions. Nevertheless, from the list of the places which I shall subjoin in the Appendix[33], it will be seen that the country is still tolerably well inhabited, though certainly it cannot now be said to be in a very flourishing condition.

As for the food of the natives, fish (“kíyi”) in which the river is extremely rich, constitutes a great proportion of their live stock; but cattle (“nthá”) as well as sheep (“wúfu”) seem to be extremely rare, and it has the appearance as if their neighbours had deprived them entirely of this article of wealth and comfort. The native Arabs however are tolerably well supplied with both. Poultry also seems not to be very numerous; but the hog (“sése”) abounds in immense quantities, and seems to be often resorted to by the natives as an article of food. Besides sorghum or, as they call it, “mákalá,” and millet, “víyo” (the “fíyo” of the Kótokó and Yédiná—rice I did not observe), a great deal of cotton, “mpátakí,” is grown in the country; and weaving constitutes one of the principal employments of the people. Indeed their shirts (“labú”) are of very excellent manufacture; but their indigo (“mógoné”) is not very good, nor are they expert in dyeing.[34]

In addition to their cotton, which ought to be cultivated to an unbounded extent in these low and richly irrigated regions, the beautiful lattice-work of cane before mentioned, the common sort being called “parpar” or “farfar,” while a better kind is called “móman,” constitutes one of their most famous manufactures; their wooden bowls (“dalgwam”) likewise, and the round straw covers (“killé”), are remarkable; for the bowls are of very good workmanship, much better than they are seen in Kúkawa, although they do not attain to that excellency which is observed in the manufactures of Dár Fúr.

Altogether the inhabitants of this country seem to be a clever race, and are in general handsomer than the Bórnu people, the women in particular. It is remarkable that they use almost the same sort of tattooing as the Kanúri, consisting of sundry curved lines along the cheek, generally six, running from the outer angle of the eye down to the mouth; it is also curious that they have the same word for it[35] as the Kanúri, although their languages are so entirely different in other respects.

My stay in the country, of course, was too short to allow me to speak more decidedly respecting their moral qualities. The currency of pieces of iron as money, which Denham observed in his time[36], has long been abolished; and at present the standard money of the place is cotton strips of from two to three inches in width.

With regard to the language of the people of Logón, Denham has committed a great mistake in supposing that it was identical with the language of Bagírmi; for though what he heard was really the language of Bagírmi, which is spoken to a great extent by the natives, yet their original language, which is spoken exclusively, among the people themselves, is quite distinct, being nearly related to that of the people of Músgu. They call their language kélakú Lógone. As far as I became acquainted with it, the pronunciation is very difficult, on account of the many aspirated sounds, especially that of “kh” or “th;” and in this respect it has some resemblance to the English.

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CHAP. XLVIII.

THE TWO RIVERS. — ENTRANCE INTO BAGÍRMI.

March 16th.It was ten o’clock in the morning when I left Kárnak Logón in order to penetrate into unknown regions, never before trodden by European foot; and a short time afterwards I was sitting in the boat, while our horses, the camel, and the bullock were partly swimming across and partly fording the river. The water was in general shallow, though in the deepest place it measured eight feet and a half. The current was about three miles an hour. The country at that period had a very different appearance from what it presented on my return from Bagírmi. At present all those low grounds, which later in the season are entirely inundated, had a swampy, cheerless aspect, and I hastened onwards in order to escape from the unhealthy locality, heated by the rays of the mid-day sun. Only now and then a small patch of cotton-ground was seen between the tall jungle. Close to the river there is scarcely a single tree; but further on, where the country becomes more cultivated, isolated karáge-trees, together with straggling groups of cottages, were seen here and there. Not having exposed myself to the mid-day sun during the last few days, and the heat being very great, I looked for a place to pass the hottest hours of the day; and to the disappointment of my companions, who were anxious for a good dinner, I dismounted under the cool shade of a beautiful wide-spreading fig-tree, “ngábbere,” or “zérra,” as the people of Logón call it, at some distance from a little village called Sóso, situated towards the north, while on our right there was a watercourse winding along through a shallow depression in the green meadow grounds, without any visible inclination. These shallow watercourses are, as I have already had occasion to mention on my journey to Músgu, one of the most characteristic features in this part of Central Africa, which formerly was thought to be a dry elevated waste. Naked young lads were splashing and playing about in the water, together with wild hogs, in the greatest harmony; never in any part of Negroland have I seen this animal in such numbers as here about the Shárí. Calves and goats were pasturing in the fields, with wild hogs in the midst of them.

When we pursued our march at two o’clock in the afternoon, I was greatly pleased to see numbers of fine horses round the groups of Shúwa villages which bordered the watercourse; while the whole scenery was enlivened by the rich foliage of wide-spreading trees. Onions likewise were cultivated here in considerable quantities. On the right of our path were very extensive fields, of a peculiar kind of winter-corn, called “sáffará” by the people of Logón, and “kérirám” by the Kanúri. This belongs to the ruler of the country; but in general very little grain is seen in this part of Logón, the inhabitants being afraid of the people of Bagírmi, who used to gather the harvest of what they themselves have sown. But small cotton grounds are occasionally observed.

After a march of about nine miles we reached a place called Báta, half deserted, and surrounded by a clay wall, in a very decayed state. Nevertheless, the few cottages that remained, simple and unpretending though they were, testified to some degree of industry and cleanliness. Of hospitality, however, we received no proof; and the authority of the Míyará Ýsuf seemed to be nought indeed, these poor people affirming, with some show of reason, that as the ruler did not protect them against the unjust exactions of their neighbours, they need not respect his commands. There was, therefore, little necessity for the servant of the sultan accompanying me any further, for if they did not respect his orders here, they would certainly not do so further on.

Wednesday, March 17th.We continued our march alone. On the east side of the town a little cultivation was to be seen, the country here being very swampy, and inundated during the rainy season. It is covered with a dense jungle; and wild beasts are in great numbers. Water is close under the surface of the ground, and the well that we passed near a Shúwa village was only three fathoms deep. Near the village of Atmarchári, which we left on our right, there were traces of cultivation, trees being cut down and the ground cleared to make room for corn-fields; the village is inhabited by Kanúri people. Soon after, the forest became denser than before, climbing plants running up the trees, and hanging down in festoons from the branches. Here it was that I first saw the footprints of the rhinoceros, an animal which is unheard of in all the western parts of Negroland. The people of this part of Logón call the animal “bírní,” the name usual in Bagírmi, while the real name in the language of the country is “ngirmé.” The Kanúri call it “kárgadán,” or “bárkaján”—the very name mentioned already by El Edrísi.[37] It is greatly feared by the inhabitants, who sometimes encounter these ferocious animals on the narrow footpaths which wind through the thick forests of their country.

I had gone on a little in advance, when suddenly I beheld, through the branches of the trees, the splendid sheet of a large river, far larger than that of Logón. All was silence! and the pellucid surface of the water undisturbed by the slightest breeze; no vestiges of human or animal life were to be seen, with the exception of two riverhorses (called “niyé” by the people of Logón), which, having been basking in the sun on the shore, plunged into the water at our approach. This, then, was the real Shárí, that is to say the great river of the Kótokó (for Shárí, as I have said before, means nothing else but river), which, augmented by the smaller but very considerable river of Logón, forms that large basin which gives to this part of Negroland its characteristic feature. The river at this spot runs from S. 30° W. to N. 30° E., but its general course is rather winding, coming further upwards from the south, and beyond forming a reach from E. 38° N.

The shore, where I stood enjoying the tranquil but beautiful scenery, is closely approached by the forest, and has an elevation of about fifteen feet. No human habitation was to be seen, with the exception of a small village on the other side. The surface of the water was undisturbed, except now and then by a fish leaping up; no waterfowl enlivened the banks; not a single boat was to be seen, till at length we observed the ferrymen on the opposite shore, where it formed a flat and sandy beach, making us a sign that we were to proceed a little higher up the river, in order not to miss the landing-place when carried down by the current. We therefore went about 800 yards further up; and I made myself comfortable under the shade of a tree, awaiting the boat, and indulging in the thought that I was soon to enter a new country, never before trodden by European foot.

At length the boat came; but the ferrymen, as soon as they saw who we were, behaved in a strange and mysterious manner, and told us that they could not take us across the river before they had informed their master. However uncommon such a precaution seemed to be, I had as yet no idea of the real state of affairs. We therefore sat down patiently to await the answer, which we thought a mere matter of form. The atmosphere was very sultry, and the sky overcast; clouds were hanging over the river, as forerunners of the rainy season. In order to keep off the deadly stings of the blood-flies from our horses, we made a large fire. The sting of this fly is almost as fatal as that of the “tsetse” in the southern parts of this continent; and many travellers lose all their horses on the shore of this river.

I was suddenly aroused from my tranquil repose by the arrival of a numerous troop of pilgrims on their way to Mekka; all of them belonged to the tribe of the Fúlbe or Felláta, mostly from the western parts of Negroland, and some from Góttokó, the little-known country between Bámbara and Kong. Amongst them were also the people who had accompanied me on my journey to Ádamáwa, and whom I had again met a second time near the town of Logón. I made them a present of needles, in order to assist them in their praiseworthy undertaking. While we were chatting together, the boatmen returned, bringing with them the astounding answer that the chief of the village, Ásu, would not allow me to cross the river.

We could at first scarcely imagine what was the reason of this unforeseen obstacle, when the boatmen informed us that Háj Áhmed, the head man of those Bagírmi people whom I have mentioned as returning from Kúkawa to their native country, had assured them that I was a most dangerous person, and that the vizier of Bórnu himself had told them there was great danger that, if I should enter the country of Bagírmi in the absence of the sultan, I might upset his throne, and ruin his kingdom. As there were some of the chief men of the village in the boat, we used every means to convince them of the absurdity of such calumnies; but all was in vain, and it became evident that we should certainly not be allowed to cross the river at this spot.

For a moment I hesitated whether I should retrace my steps to Logón bírni, there to await the return of a messenger whom I might send to the sultan of Bagírmi, or whether I should try my fortune at some other point of the river. I could not well perceive from whence the obstacle proceeded; whether it was really the vizier of Bórnu who was the cause of these intrigues, as he knew that it was my earnest desire, if possible, to penetrate into Wádáy; or whether it was the Sultan of Logón, who, by compelling me in this way to retrace my steps, might think to persuade me to stay longer in his company. The Bagírmi man, I had, as far as I knew, never offended in my life—on the contrary, in the town of Logón I had treated his whole troop, and given besides some small presents to himself; but he might have been jealous of me, seeing that the sultan of Logón honoured me in so remarkable a manner. He had been to Kúkawa, in order to purchase there some articles of manufacture which were not to be had in Bagírmi, and which he hoped to sell to advantage to the sultan of his country. Perhaps he thought that I was also a merchant, and might spoil his market. Considering therefore all these points, I at length decided upon trying to cross the river at another place.

Having in consequence retraced our steps a little more than two miles, along the path we had come, in order to make the people believe that we were returning to Logón, we turned off from our track to the northward, and winding along in a north-easterly direction, at times through a dense forest, at others, passing small villages or hamlets, where scarcely any corn was cultivated, though cotton was grown to some extent, and evidently employed the activity of the inhabitants in weaving and dyeing, we reached the larger village Búgarí. Here the inhabitants, who, like those of most of the villages hereabouts, belong to the Kanúri race, received us with great kindness and hospitality, and without delay assigned us quarters in a large courtyard. My companions told the people that we had missed the direct road to Mélé, and tried even to pass me off as a “sheríf;” but unfortunately there was a person who had seen me at the ferry of Ásu, so that the hope of crossing the river at some other place without further obstacle was not very great.

Nevertheless, I was resolved to try every means in my power in order not to miss the opportunity of exploring a new country; and for a dóra, or small shirt, I was promised by the “bíllama” of the village a guide, who early the next morning should conduct me to the ferry of Mélé.

Thursday, March 18th.Before daybreak we began our stealthy enterprise, and entered the woods, led on by a tall, well-made, muscular, and half-naked lad, well armed with bow and battle-axe. Passing through a district where, besides cotton, a great deal of native corn was cultivated, all belonging to the inhabitants of the village where we had passed the night, and following our narrow unbeaten footpath, we at length emerged upon the direct well-trodden track which leads straight from Logón to Mélé, although it is very winding. At first underwood was greatly intermixed with dúm-bush or ngílle; but after a while the aspect of the country suddenly changed, the lower ground on our left expanding in fine meadow lands interspersed with pools of stagnant water, the deposit of the last year’s inundation, while on our right we had the site of a former town, called Yesínekí, densely overgrown with forest.

Here we came again in sight of that fine river which forms the western boundary of the kingdom of Bagírmi, and which intriguing men wished to prevent me from crossing. The slope of the bank is here broken, forming a small terrace before it descends to the edge of the water, the upper slope being at present covered with a green turf, while the lower one, which rose fifteen feet above the surface of the river, consists of loose sand. Here again we disturbed some crocodiles which had been quietly basking in the sun, and lost no time in making signs to the ferrymen opposite, that we wished to cross, while I hastened to the rear of the rushes growing on the shore to make a slight sketch of the interesting scenery of the river, with the village on the other side. We were delighted when, after a short delay, we saw a boat leaving the village, going round the sandbank which stretched out in the middle of the river, and coming towards us. All our success now depended on a few minutes; and as soon as the ferrymen touched the shore we satisfied their claims, and entered the boat, which was large and commodious.