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CHAP. LXIV.

THE NETWORK OF CREEKS, BACKWATERS, AND LAKES BELONGING TO THE NIGER. — SARAYÁMO. — NAVIGATION TO KÁBARA.

On my first arrival at the town of Bámbara, I had not been at all aware that it formed a most important point of my journey, it being for me, as proceeding from the south-east, what that celebrated creek three days west from Timbúktu was to the traveller from the north during the middle ages, and which on this account has received the name of “Rás el má.” The town of Bámbara is situated on a branch, or rather a dead backwater of the river, forming a very shallow bottom of considerable breadth, but a very irregular border, and containing at that time but little water, so that the communication with the river was interrupted; but about twenty days later in the season, for about four or five months every year, during the highest state of the inundation, the boats proceed from here directly, either to Díre by way of Gálaye and Káñima, or to Timbúktu by way of Délego and Sarayámo, thus opening a considerable export of corn towards that dependent market-place, which again has to supply the whole of the nomadic tribes of Ázawád, and the neighbouring districts.

This shallow water is bordered on the west side by the hilly chain which I have mentioned before, and beyond there is another branch, which joins it towards the south. Such being the state of the water at present, there was no great activity, and two canoes only were lying here under repair, each of them being provided with two low chambers, or cabins, vaulted in with reeds and bushes, as I shall describe further on. Of course, when this basin is full of water, and navigated by numbers of canoes, the place must present quite another appearance, while at the time of my visit its shallow swampy state could not but increase the dulness of the whole neighbourhood, which had not yet been fertilised by the rainy season. I was assured by the inhabitants that only one plentiful shower had as yet fallen. This was the reason that, instigated by the absurd rumour which had preceded me that my favour with the Almighty was so great that it had some influence upon the fall of rain, all the inhabitants, although Mohammedans, assembled on the second day of El Waláti’s absence, and, headed by the emír, came to me in procession, and solicited my interference in their behalf for a good shower of rain. I succeeded this time in eluding their solicitations for a direct prayer, satisfying them by expressing my fervent hope that the Almighty would have mercy upon them. But I was so favoured, that there was really a moderate shower in the evening, which did a great deal of good to the ground, although the air did not become much cooler, for it was excessively hot all this time, and sometimes almost insupportable in my narrow dirty hut. I remember in particular one miserable night which I spent here, when, not being able to obtain a wink of sleep, I wandered about all night, and felt totally exhausted in the morning. Notwithstanding the swarms of mosquitoes, I afterwards preferred sleeping outside my hut, in order to inhale the slight refreshing breeze which used to spring up during the night. Unfortunately I had, to the best of my belief, long before broken my last thermometer, and was therefore unable, or rather believed myself unable, to measure the heat with accuracy, but it could certainly not be inferior to the greatest rate we had experienced in Kúkawa. The whole country round about the village is very bleak, consisting chiefly of black argillaceous soil, such as is common in the neighbourhood of large sheets of water, and scarcely a single tree offers its foliage as a shelter from the rays of the sun.

I had also sufficient leisure to pay full attention to the trading relations of the inhabitants, which, at this time of the year, are rather poor; for although a daily market is held, it is on a very small scale, and, besides sour milk and salt, very little is to be found. Even Indian corn is not brought regularly into the market, although so much agriculture is going on in the neighbourhood, and I had to buy my supply from strangers who by chance were passing through the place, while for one of my oxen I got only as much as forty sʿaa, or measures of corn: of rice, on the contrary, which is extensively cultivated in the neighbourhood, the natives, even at this season, appeared to possess a sufficient supply. The standard currency consists of “tári,” that is to say, cotton strips two hands wide, of which, unfortunately, I did not possess the smallest quantity; it is only in purchasing sweet or sour milk that the inhabitants accept shells. Everything that is sold in the market is measured and inspected by an officer, who does not bear the same title by which he is known in the eastern countries of the Fúlbe, viz. “lámido-lúmu,” but is here called “emíro-fóba.”

A good deal of entertainment was afforded me by the daily turning out and bringing in of the several divisions of the five herds of cattle which the place possessed. Three herds returned early in the morning from their pasture grounds, where they had been left during the night, in order to be milked; and the two remaining ones were then turned out, in order to return during the heat of the day. But notwithstanding the considerable number of cattle which the place possessed, the drought was so great that there was only a small supply of milk at the time.

At length, on the evening of the third day after their setting out, my two companions, whom I had sent to Somki, returned, and El Waláti would fain have made me believe that that chief had at first most obstinately refused to receive the presents, and had peremptorily demanded that I should make him, in addition, a present of one of the horses; but the fact was, that he had persisted in representing that those presents did not come from me, but had employed them in order to make his own peace with that powerful chief, and to conclude some bargain with him. After all this, he had the insolence to propose that I also should go to that chief, in order to surrender to him some more of my property as his own; but I could not prevent it, and my only object was necessarily to get over my difficult situation as well as possible.

Thursday, August 25th.Having, after the return of my friend from his important embassy, still been obliged to stay another day in this miserable place, and having had the misfortune to lose my best ox of burden, which El Waláti had sold to the Tawárek who came along with us, pretending that it had been stolen, I at length set out on my journey to Sarayámo. But just as we were about to start, a circumstance happened which might have proved fatal to my further proceedings; for, at the moment of departure, there arrived an Arab, a native of Tisít, who, besides having visited St. Louis, had made the pilgrimage to Mekka, and knew something about Europeans as well as about the Arabs of the East; and as I asked a great many questions about the ancient and celebrated town of Bíru, and the modern Waláta, he began to make some stricter inquiries concerning my native home, and the places from whence I had gathered my information; for not having found any one on his journey towards the East who knew anything about the seats of these Western Arabs, while the general name of Shingíti is given to all of them, he was not a little astonished to find that I knew so much about his countrymen. However, my whole appearance inspired him with such confidence, that he continued to take great interest in me. He had already, the previous evening, sent me a fat sheep as a present, and he now accompanied me for a while, mounted on a beautiful white mare; but, as his company prevented my laying down the route with accuracy, I persuaded him not to give himself any further trouble.

Having crossed a small watercourse, we soon reached a larger one, which formed a running stream, carrying the surplus of the shallow creek of Bámbara towards a larger sheet, which, at the distance of a mile, we saw expand on our right. The surface of the country was undulating, with granite cropping out here and there, and with a good supply of stunted mimosa, besides the poisonous euphorbia; but, about two miles beyond the open water, we descended into a more level tract, covered with nothing but dry and short herbage, and abundance of the obnoxious feathery bristle; but this is very favourable ground for the cattle, for they are not less fond of this bristle than their masters themselves are of the seed, called “úzak,” which from the most ancient times[79] has constituted one of their chief articles of food. We passed, also, the sites of several former Tawárek encampments.

Having then entered a district where more dúm-bush appeared, we ascended a sandy ridge, from whence we beheld, in front of us, an extensive sheet of water, stretching out to a distance of several miles, its surface agitated by a strong breeze, and with tall reeds forming its border. It is called Nyéngay by the Fúlbe, and Isse-énga by the Tawárek, and is in connection with the branches of Bámbara and Káñima, winding along from here by way of Gálaye to the latter place, and from thence by way of Délego to Sarayámo, and thus opening an uninterrupted navigable canal, at least during the highest state of the inundation; but it is said to be dreaded by the boatmen of the frail native craft, who never dare to cross it in a storm. It seemed, in a south-westerly direction, from six to eight miles across, but towards the north-west it became contracted in such a manner, that at the narrowest place only two canoes can sail abreast; after which it turned away, and could not be further surveyed from this point.

Having followed the border of this fine and imposing sheet of water, where numbers of people were catching fish, for about a mile and a half, we ascended the sandy downs on our right, and soon reached the encampment of Mohammed, the chief of the Kél-e’-súk, who a few days previously had paid me a visit in Bámbara. Here I had to give away several more of my effects, but we were treated most hospitably, and even sumptuously, and besides two enormous bowls full of rice and meat, swimming in an immense quantity of butter, a whole ox was slaughtered for us. The site of the encampment was very beautiful, and I walked for a long time about the downs, which were adorned with a rich profusion of trees of the acacia kind, and offered an interesting prospect over the lake; but the ensuing night was most miserably spent on account of the numerous swarms of mosquitoes which infested the encampment.

August 26th.We were very early in motion, but a heavy thunder-storm which gathered from the south-east delayed our departure, although, taking into account the slow rate at which I was here obliged to travel, it was a matter of total indifference whether we started early or late, as I was quite in the hands of my friend the Waláti, who stopped wherever he had any business to transact, and did not set out again until he had concluded his bargain. The rain clouds then taking a more northerly direction, we at length set out, pursuing our track over the hilly country, and while we lost sight of the lake of Nyéngay on our left, soon discovered on our right another but smaller sheet of water called Gérru. The Nyéngay is said to be full of water all the year round; but the Gérru becomes dry in summer, when the inhabitants of Sarayámo repair hither in order to cultivate their rice-fields, the rice ripening with the rising waters, and being cut shortly before the river attains the highest state of inundation.

Having left these interesting sheets of water behind us, we traversed a district more richly adorned with acacias, and crossed a valley where the siwák, or Capparis sodata (a bush which I scarcely remembered to have seen since my return from Kánem), was growing in great exuberance, besides numbers of gerredh, or the useful Acacia nilotica, but we searched in vain for water. The country also which we traversed from here onwards was chiefly clothed with the Capparis and the Mimosa nilotica, besides a good deal of dúm-bush; but, further on, we emerged from this undulating tract into an open swampy ground, at present tolerably dry, and covered with rich herbage, while we left on our right the site of the formerly important town Sáma-koira[80], which once lorded it over a considerable territory till it was destroyed by the Tawárek, when the remnant of its population escaped towards Bamba and Ghágo.

In these open swampy meadow grounds, girt by a dense belt of gerredh, where no Arab would think of pitching his tent, was the encampment of the chief Somki, with his family and his followers (the tents of the kind I have described being just pitched), and his numerous herds of cattle grazing right and left, besides about twenty camels. We found the chief reclining on his “teshégit” or divan of reeds, and as soon as he beheld us, he rose and saluted El Waláti and me. He was a man of middle stature, and of tolerably stout proportions, his white beard, which looked forth from under the lithám, giving him a highly respectable appearance. He, however, did not show us any signs of hospitality, which vexed me the more, as, besides the considerable presents which I had sent to him a few days before, I had now again to make him another one, consisting of two túrkedís and a háf; but I soon found that he was not aware of the former presents having been sent by me.

Being an intelligent man, who had had dealings with a great many people, he had some slight suspicion that I was not what my companions represented me to be. While I was sitting in my tent reading attentively a passage referring to these regions in the excellent little book of Mr. Cooley on the Negroland of the Arabs, which has rendered me very great assistance in directing my inquiries in these countries, he made his appearance very abruptly, and seemed rather surprised at finding me reading characters which he well knew were not Arabic; but, nevertheless, he suppressed his suspicions. Perhaps in consequence of the intrigues of El Waláti, he laid claims to the horse which I myself rode. The eagerness of the women hereabout to obtain tobacco was very remarkable, and they pestered my servants during a great part of the night.

Saturday, August 27th.We set out on our last day’s journey by land, in order to reach the place where we were to embark on the river. Having emerged from the low swampy ground, we entered again sandy downs, principally clothed with háskanít, damankádda, and bú-rékkeba or Panicum colonum, and, having left on one side a smaller channel, we reached the branch of Fatta, which extends almost as far as Sarayámo, running parallel to several other creeks, called after the villages Kásba, Haibóngo, and Benesénga, which intersect the district named Bóddu.

The water at first formed a narrow irregular channel of about 200 yards wide, very much resembling an artificial canal, as is the case with a great many of these backwaters, but gradually it began to widen, affording excellent soil for the cultivation of rice. Between this channel and the river, there are several other branches, which appear to join the creek which I navigated from Sarayámo. Altogether, in this level part of the Niger, the river appears to spread out in a labyrinth of channels and watercourses. As for the rice which was grown here exclusively, it appeared to have been just sown with the assistance of the dew, which suffices for its growth till the river rises and spreads its inundation.

Here we passed a small village inhabited by a Tárki, or rather Kél-e’-súki, of the name of Mohammed Bonyámi, who has settled here with his property, and who, while we passed by, came out of his hut, and, astonished at my unusual appearance, and delighted at seeing a stranger from such a distance, entreated me in the kindest manner to stay with him a short time, so that I had in consequence great difficulty in pursuing my march. He was a very decent and venerable-looking old man, of short stout figure, and with benevolent features, but his dress was of the simplest kind, consisting of a white tobe and a black shawl. A good many horses were pasturing hereabout, but not, as it would seem, to the advantage of the rice grounds, as they fed mostly on the young shoots. Having then left this watercourse at some distance on our right, we reached three miles further on the town of Sarayámo, the chief place in the province of Kíso. A great many people being here collected at the news of our arrival, we fired a salute with our pistols, and after a little search, owing to the very low entrances of most of the huts which would not admit my luggage, obtained tolerable quarters.

The town of Sarayámo is formed by an inner city, kasr or “koira,” consisting of clay dwellings, very narrow and uncomfortable; and a large suburb on the east side formed of huts of large size, but all of them with very low doors. The courtyard where I was quartered was situated at the western border of this eastern suburb, on a sloping ground, descending towards a small ravine which separates the suburb from the kasr, and contained at the time a small quantity of dirty water. This situation had the disadvantage that, from the opposite slope, everything that was done in my courtyard could be observed, and there were a great many curious people, especially among the rising generation, who obtruded not a little on my privacy.

I had scarcely made myself comfortable, when I received a great number of visits; and it was not long before Mohammed Bonyámi arrived, mounted on a white mare. As El Waláti had persuaded me to take only one horse to Timbúktu, I sent two of my animals with this man to remain with him until my leaving that place, while I also intrusted to his care my five camels, to be taken to a brother of his.

While I was conversing with these people, my friend the Háj Búda arrived also, with whom I continued to pass for a Syrian sheríf, although he thought it strange that I would not say my prayers with him in the courtyard.

Sunday, August 28th.Having enjoyed a good night’s rest, tolerably free from mosquitoes, as I had shut my hut at an early hour, I took a walk down to the river, the morning being, as usual, cool and fresh, and a slight breeze having sprung up. The bank on which the town stands was, at present, from twenty-five to thirty feet above the level of the river; but this elevation is of course greatly diminished by the rising of the inundation, the river reaching generally to the very border of the village. That branch which is not in direct connection with the water of Fatta, along which our last day’s march had lain, had no current, and was about 200 yards in breadth. The communication by water along these shallow backwaters of the immense Niger just opening (for in the dry season the connection is interrupted), only one sea-worthy boat was lying here at the time, neither conspicuous for its size nor for its comfortable arrangement, and with two cabins of matting, one in the prow and one in the stern, while another boat, measuring forty feet by eight, was just repairing. All the craft are built of planks sewed or tied together in a very bungling manner.

I learned, on this occasion, that it is only at this season of the year that people go from here to Timbúktu, which lies almost exactly north from this place, by an eastern winding; while later in the season they follow a westerly branch. A labyrinth of creeks, backwaters, and channels is in this manner spread over the whole of this country, of which people had no previous idea.

I had scarcely returned to my quarters, when the governor, or emír, of the place came to pay me a visit. This man, whose name was ʿOthmán, was a cheerful kind of person. He stands in direct subjection to the chief of Hamda-Alláhi, without being dependent upon any other governor; and his province comprises some other places in the neighbourhood, such as Fatta, Horeséna, and Kabéka. Having made strict inquiries with regard to the present state of affairs in Stambúl, and having asked the news respecting the countries of the East in general, he left me, but returned again in the course of the afternoon, accompanied by the chief persons in the town, in order to solicit my aid in procuring rain. After a long conversation about the rainy season, the quantity of rain which falls in different countries, and the tropical regions especially[81], I felt myself obliged to say before them the “fat-há,” or opening prayer of the Kurán; and, to their great amusement and delight, concluded the Arabic prayer with a form in their own language,—“Alla hokki ndíam,”—which, although meaning originally “God may give water,” has become quite a complimentary phrase, so that the original meaning has been almost lost, few people only being conscious of it. It so happened that the ensuing night a heavy thunder-storm gathered from the east, bringing a considerable quantity of rain, which even found its way into my badly thatched hut. This apparent efficacy of my prayer induced the inhabitants to return the following day, to solicit from me a repetition of my performance; but I succeeded in evading their request by exhorting them to patience. But, on the other hand, I was obliged, in addition to a strong dose of emetic, to give the governor my blessing, as he was going to the capital, and was rather afraid of his liege lord the young prince Áhmedu, while at the same time his overbearing neighbours the Tawárek inspired him with a great deal of fear. In the sequel, he was very well received in the capital, and therefore could not complain of the inefficacy of my inspiration; but nevertheless, not having had the slightest suspicion that I was not what I represented myself to be, he was much shocked when he afterwards learned that I was a Christian, to the great amusement of the Sheikh el Bakáy, who wrote to him repeatedly to the effect that he ought to be well pleased that so wicked a person as a Christian had procured him, not only rain, but even a good reception from his superior.

The town is tolerably flourishing, and the Fúlbe inhabitants, at least, possess a great number of horses. We counted, one evening, ninety returning from the pasture-grounds, while a good many more remained outside at a greater distance. The Fúlbe here belong to the following tribes: Urománge, Rilámbe, Oromanábe, Koirábe, Feroibe, Balámbe, Orohábe, and Úrube. The whole population of the place may amount to about 5000; but there did not appear to be many manufactures; even the native cloth, so well woven by the Songhay, is not manufactured here.

The situation of the town at this navigable branch, however, produces some activity, although no regular market appears to be held: and, the second day of my stay here, a large boat arrived from Timbúktu, with eighteen rás (a piece weighing about sixty pounds) of salt, a large parcel of tobacco, and a good number of passengers. Shells have currency here, and I bought rice for fourteen hundred shells and a túrkedí, at the rate of forty shells for each sʿaa, or measure. Rice constitutes the chief article of food, although on the west side of the town some negro-corn is cultivated. Milk is plentiful.

The town of Dár-e’-salám, or Dári, the residence of ʿAbd-e’-rahmán, the son of Mohammed Lebbo, lying on the bank of the river itself, is at a distance of thirteen hours on horseback from here, equal to about thirty miles, by way of Taíba.

Having succeeded in hiring the boat which had come from Timbúktu for the exclusive use of my own party, for 10,000 shells, I prepared my luggage, which, although now greatly reduced from the respectable bulk which it presented when setting out from Kátsena, was still sufficient to inspire me with the hope that I might succeed in securing the friendship of the more influential chiefs of these regions: and in the evening of the last day of August I went on board of my small craft, and passed there a very comfortable night. The river, during the time of my residence in the place, had risen considerably, and soon promised to open the communication by the western branch.

Thursday, September 1st.After a good deal of delay, we at length began our voyage about a quarter before eight in the morning; and I felt my spirits greatly cheered when I found myself floating on this river, or backwater, which was to carry me all the way to the harbour of Timbúktu. The river near the town forms a fine open sheet, widening to about 300 yards; but further on, as we were winding along in a north-easterly direction, it was greatly obstructed with rank grass, or rather býrgu, which very often covered the water entirely, so that the boat seemed to glide along a grassy plain. It was quite out of the question to use oars. We were therefore reduced to the necessity of proceeding with poles, generally moving at the rate of two miles and a third an hour, but very often less. Besides the býrgu, which constitutes the chief fodder for horse and cattle in all the districts along the Niger, and which even furnishes man with the sweet beverage called “ménshu” and a sort of honey called “kartu,” white water-lilies, or Nymphæa Lotus, were in great quantities; and, between the latter, the waterplant “serranfúsa,” which, being about ten inches long, floats on the water without having its roots fixed in the ground. But, after a voyage of about three miles, we emerged from the reedy water of Sarayámo into a more open branch, said to be that of Bámbara, which here joined it. According to some of my informants, this water is identical with the Gérru, which I have mentioned on a former occasion. Here the eastern bank became quite free from reed-grass, while a herd of gazelles was to be seen near the shore; the western bank, meanwhile, being adorned with numerous dúm-palms, gáwo, and tamarind trees, or, as they are called here, busúsu; while, further on, the ascending ground was covered with “tunfáfia” (Asclepias gigantea), “retem” (or broom), and “damankádda.” But after a while, when rank grass again began to prevail, this arm also became greatly obstructed, being separated by the grass into several branches. The water being only from five to seven feet deep, we proceeded rather slowly onward, winding along in a northerly direction, at times diverging more to the west, at others more to the east; till about an hour after noon we reached the small town of Fatta, situated on the eastern shore, and surrounded by extensive rice-grounds, where the people were busy with the labours of the field.

The river here changes its direction to the west, being probably joined by another branch, which, however, I did not see, and we began steering in that direction, soothing our disappointment at not moving directly towards the object of our voyage with the animated songs of our boatmen, who accompanied the movements of their oars with a barbarous, but not unmelodious, account of the deeds of the great Áskia. A great many herds of cattle were to be seen on the left or southern side of the river, and gave life to the scenery. Our living also was not so bad, a couple of fine fishes, which we had succeeded in buying from some fishermen, having been prepared over the fire and affording us an excellent dinner.

The farther we proceeded onward the more the channel widened, becoming free from reeds, although occasionally adorned by a floating layer of water-lilies. However, beyond the village of Gurijígge, or Guridígge, the current became so strong that, in order to avoid it, we chose rather to enter the reeds, which broke the force of the water. It is natural that, as this is not a river of itself fed by its own sources, but merely a backwater caused by the overflow of the great river, the current in general must come from the latter, and proceed inland.

Having kept for some time along the reed-grass of the southern shore in a winding direction, we again emerged into open water, where the poles of our boatmen, which measured about eighteen feet in length, found no bottom; and we kept steadily on, although occasionally quite alarmed by our south-westerly direction, which threatened to carry us rather to Hamda-Alláhi than to Timbúktu; till at length, a few miles on this side of the town of Goilo, we changed our direction to W.N.W., and, passing some floating reed islands, seemed to be in a fair direction to reach the chief object of our journey. But a storm that had been gathering induced us with the approach of night to moor the boat in a wide grassy creek of the eastern shore, in order to shelter ourselves from the strong wind, which easily upsets this light craft. Four fishing-boats were lying not far from us, and with their lights gave us a feeling of society; but the numerous swarms of mosquitoes molested us not a little, and the barking of an animal in the water greatly excited my curiosity. On inquiry, I learned that it proceeded from the young alligators, or rather zangway.

These boats have no means of approaching the shallow shore. Hence it is necessary for the passengers, two or three times a day, to wade through deep water backwards and forwards. This, coupled with the great quantity of water continually filling the bottom of these boats, is the reason why all the people who travel along the Niger are subject to rheumatism. The governor of Sáy, as I have already mentioned, in consequence of his voyage up the river to Gágho, had become quite lame.

Friday, September 2nd.It was a quarter to seven o’clock in the morning when we left the sea of reeds in which we had moored our vessel, which, in the absence of an anchor, is done by fixing a pole on each side of the prow, and one at the stern of the boat. We began our day’s voyage by slowly gliding along the river, by the strength of a local current, which ran at the rate of about two miles an hour; but soon our boatmen began to make use of their oars, and we advanced with more rapidity. The open channel was here quite close to the eastern shore, the uniform level of which was broken by a hilly eminence covered with fine fields of millet, when we saw upon our left a smaller arm of the considerable channel running from the south-west. This, on inquiry, I found was in connection with that very watercourse which, at a later season, forms the general high road of those people who go from Sarayámo to Timbúktu. Even at this season of the year this branch is preferred by those who come from the north. Having passed this branch we halted awhile at the western shore, where, at a short distance inland, there is a small village called Koito, surrounded by fine trees.

After a short delay we set out again on our zigzag voyage, while one of our boatmen, his harpoon in hand, proceeded on a fishing expedition. From a wide open water we soon got into a narrow channel, while the grassy expanse spread out on each side to a great extent; and, making our way with great difficulty, we emerged into a wide open branch, much more considerable than the one along which our course had lain, it being the principal trunk of the westerly watercourse of Sarayámo. As soon as we had entered it, some large specimens of the alligator tribe afforded proofs of a more extensive sheet of water, while the current, which at first was running against us, was so considerable that we advanced rather slowly. The whole breadth of the river or channel, forming one large unbroken sheet of water, was certainly not less than from 600 to 700 yards, while the depth in the midst of the channel, at least as far as I had an opportunity of judging from the poles of our boatmen, measured fourteen feet and a half, and at times even as much as eighteen, and probably more. The banks were enlivened by men and horses, and we passed an encampment of herdsmen with their cattle. The western shore especially was adorned with a profusion of dúm-palms, besides fine tamarind trees, sarkakáya, and others of unknown species. Thus repeatedly delayed by shifting sands obstructing the channel of the river, we moved on in a tolerably direct northerly course, till we reached the village of Menesengay, situated on sandy downs about twenty feet high, beyond a deep gulf of the westerly shore. The low grassy ground on the eastern side formed the place of resort for numbers of pelicans, and the lower ground emerging at present only three feet out of the water, was enlivened by numbers of water-birds, which were looking out greedily for their prey.

Here we again changed our course, following a great many windings, but proceeding generally in an easterly direction. But now the watercourse began to exhibit more and more the character of a noble river, bordered by strongly marked banks, clad with fine timber, chiefly tamarind and kaña trees, and occasionally enlivened by cattle. Our voyage was very delightful, gliding, as we were, smoothly along the surface of the water, and keeping mostly in the middle of the noble stream, our boatmen only changing their course once to touch at the northern shore, in order to procure for a few shells the luxury of some kola nuts, of which even these poor people were by no means insensible. At length, having passed between the villages of Haibóngu on the northern, and Dára-kaina on the southern, shore, we again exchanged our south-easterly direction for a more northerly one, proceeding along a very broad watercourse; but, after a while, the open water was broken by a broad grassy island, which left only a small channel on the west side, while that on the east was of tolerable width. Meanwhile the evening was approaching, and we met with several delays, once in order to buy some fish, and another time on account of our boatmen having lost their harpoon, with which they occasionally endeavoured to catch some large species of fish which were swimming alongside our boat. They were very dexterous in diving, although it required some time for them to ascertain the spot where the slender instrument had been fixed in the bottom. This harpoon was exactly similar to the double spear used by some divisions of the Batta, one of the tribes of Ádamáwa, such as the Bágelé, and even by some of the inhabitants of Bórnu.

We had now entered a splendid reach of the river, which, almost free from reeds, extended in an easterly direction, and we glided pleasantly along the smooth water at a short distance from the northern bank, which was thickly clad with trees; till at length, darkness setting in, we struck right across the whole breadth of the river, which now, in the quiet of the evening, spread out its smooth unrippled surface like a beautiful mirror, and which at this place was certainly not less than 1000 yards broad, straight for the evening fires of the village Banáy, which was situated on the opposite bank, and we moored our vessel at the north-easterly bend of the gulf round which the town is situated. Most of our party slept on shore, while others made themselves as comfortable as possible in the boat, and on the top of the matting which formed the cabins.

Here we awoke the next morning with a beautiful clear sky, and quietly enjoyed for a few hours the fine river scenery, bordered by a rich belt of vegetation, while our boatmen endeavoured to replace one of their poles, which they had broken, by a new one, and after some time succeeded in getting one which measured twenty-one feet. The town or village itself is inhabited by Songhay and Fúlbe, the latter being in possession of numerous flocks and herds. The cattle being just collected on the sandy beach near the river, were milked soon after sunrise, and furnished me with a draught of that delicious beverage, which must always constitute one of the greatest luxuries to a European traveller in these countries.

The chief part of the village extended along the bay to the south, at the point where we had moored our boat; but there was a suburb of detached huts, chiefly inhabited by Tawárek, and this part of the shore was beautifully adorned with large trees. When we at length continued our voyage, we observed also a great many dúm-palms, which served to further embellish the country, while kadéña, or tóso, seemed to form the staple produce of the inhabitants, and thickly lined the shores. The scenery was the more interesting, as, besides boys who were playing in the water, a numerous herd of cattle were just swimming across the river, which to animals not accustomed to such a task, would have been rather a difficult undertaking; and, even as it was, the people who accompanied them in boats had some difficulty in inducing them to continue their fatiguing trip when they once began to feel exhausted, especially as they were accompanied by their young calves. However, in these regions along the Niger, with its numerous channels, backwaters, and swamps, man as well as beast must be accustomed to swimming. I took great pains to discover whether there was any current here, but I did not succeed in ascertaining the fact; and altogether, in this network of creeks and backwaters, the current seems to be very uncertain, going in on one side and out on the other, notwithstanding that we were now approaching the trunk of the river, following in general a northerly direction with a slight westerly deviation. The gradually sloping bank was here covered with the dense rich bush called bógina by the Songhay.

But at present these shores, once animated with the bustle of many larger and smaller villages of the native Songhay, were buried in silence and solitude, a turbulent period of almost 200 years having succeeded to the epoch when the great Songhay king, Mohammed el Háj Áskia, held the whole of these regions under his powerful sway. No less than four dwelling-places[82] along this tract of the river had been destroyed on one and the same day by the father of Galáijo, the prince whom we had met on our journey a short distance from Sáy. A solitary antelope, with her young, was the only living being in the present state of desolation that we observed during several hours’ navigation, but the banks were occasionally lined with fine trees. Besides the tamarind tree, a tree called bógi appeared in great quantities; it bears a yellow fruit about the size of a pear, having four or five large kernels, and which, on account of its pleasant acid taste, afforded us a very refreshing treat.

Having met with a short delay, in consequence of a thunderstorm which brought us but little rain, we observed the island of Kóra, which lies at the mouth of this channel, and the main river ahead of us, the water increasing in breadth, while one arm branches off round the south-western part of the island, presenting here the appearance of an inland sea. But we had scarcely caught a glimpse of the great river itself, when a second and heavier thunderstorm, which had long been gathering, threatened to break forth, and obliged us to seek shelter in the grassy eastern shore of the main. We had scarcely fastened the boat, when the rain came down in torrents, and lasted with great violence for nearly two hours, so that my berth was entirely swamped, and I remained in a most uncomfortable state during the whole of the night.

Sunday, September 4th.The weather having cleared up, we set out at an early hour, following a north-easterly direction through an open water not obstructed by reeds, but soon halted again for prayer near the green bushy shore; while from the opposite side of the island of Kóra, the lowing of cattle, cackling of fowls, and the voices of men were distinctly to be heard, the island being still tolerably well inhabited and the people being said to possess even a good number of horses. It was of considerable interest to me here to fall into the course pursued by that very meritorious French traveller, Réné Caillié, on his toilsome and dangerous journey through the whole western part of the continent of Africa, from Sierra Leone to Morocco; and it is an agreeable duty for me to confirm the general accuracy of his account. Following close upon the track of the enterprising and intelligent, but unfortunate Major Laing, who had been assassinated two years previously on his desperate journey from Timbúktu, Caillié naturally excited against himself the jealousy of the English, to whom it could not but seem extraordinary that a poor unprotected adventurer like himself should succeed in an enterprise where one of the most courageous and nobleminded officers of their army had succumbed.

Gliding slowly along the channel, which here was about 600 yards in width, and gradually exchanging the eastern shore for the middle of the stream, we observed after a few miles’ advance the first river-horses, or banga, that we had as yet seen in the Niger, carrying their heads out of the water like two immense boxes, and rather frightening our boatmen, who did not seem to relish a tête-à-tête with these animals, till I sent a ball after them.

Passing then the site of the former town of Gakoira, near which the people were busy with the labours of the rice-fields, and having again landed on the opposite shore, which was covered with numerous kalgo trees, in order that the lazy boatmen might get their breakfast with comfort and ease, we had to follow a large bend of the river where the town of Danga is situated on the right, beyond a swampy low ground. This is probably the same town so repeatedly mentioned in the interesting records of Bábá Áhmed, especially as the residence of the Púllo chief, Sambo Lámido, who at the period of the ruin of the Songhay empire was the chief instrument in achieving that destruction. We then crossed from here to the other side, and passed the town of Sanyáre on a projecting headland, which at times appears to be changed into an island, and containing, besides a good number of reed huts, even a few clay dwellings. Here our people indulged in the hope of procuring some tobacco, but were sadly disappointed, the natives being too much afraid of their fanatical master, the Shékho Áhmedu ben Áhmedu.

Having left this village behind us, we entered a fine northerly reach belonging to the branch which was finally to carry us into the great river itself, and left the town of Sanyáre beyond the shallow sandbank, conspicuous on account of a group of majestic tamarind trees. Here the inhabitants wanted to barter some sour milk for negro corn, which to them, with their ordinary diet of rice, seemed to be a luxury. Having lost some time, we at length had the broad sheet of the Niger before us; and here, at the point of junction, there started forth from the easterly shore a group of solitary trees, which appeared to form the usual nocturnal place of resort for all the water-fowl in the neighbourhood, the trunk as well as the branches of the trees being overlaid with a white crust formed by the droppings of these visitors, which with animated cries were collecting together towards the close of the evening. Having here left the shore, which at present formed a low and bare headland, but which in the course of a month would be entirely under water, we at once entered the middle of that magnificent river the Ísa, or Máyo Balléo, running here from W. 35° S. to E. 35° N., which has excited the lively curiosity of Europeans for so many years. It was at this spot about a mile across, and by its magnitude and solemn magnificence in the new moon which was rising in front of us, and with the summer lightning at times breaking through the evening sky, inspired my servants with real awe and almost fright; while we were squatting on the shelving roof of our frail boat, and looked with searching eyes along the immense expanse of the river in a north-easterly direction, where the object of our journey was said to lie.

Whether from the excitement of the day, or from the previous night’s wetting, when at length we lay to at the ancient Songhay town of Koiretágo, which had once been a place of importance, but had been almost destroyed by the Fúlbe in conjunction with the Tárki chief Somki, I was seized with a severe attack of fever, but in order to take care of my luggage I was unwilling to go on shore, where I might have lain down on a fine sandy beach, choosing rather to remain on board our frail boat.

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CHAP. LXV.

ARRIVAL AT KÁBARA. — ENTRANCE INTO TIMBÚKTU.

September 7th, 1853.Thus the day broke which, after so many months’ exertion, was to carry me to the harbour of Timbúktu. We started at a tolerably early hour, crossing the broad sheet of the river, first in a north-easterly, then in an almost northerly direction, till finding ourselves opposite the small hamlet Tásakal, mentioned by Caillié[83], we began to keep along the windings of the northern bank which, from its low character, presented a very varying appearance, while a creek, separating from the trunk, entered the low ground. The river a month or two later in the season inundates the whole country to a great distance, but the magnificent stream, with the exception of a few fishing-boats, now seemed almost tenantless, the only objects which in the present reduced state of the country animated the scenery being a number of large boats lying at anchor in front of us near the shore of the village Koróme. But the whole character of the river was of the highest interest to me, as it disclosed some new features for which I had not been prepared; for, while the water on which Koróme was situated formed only by far the smaller branch, the chief river, about three quarters of a mile in breadth, took its direction to the south-east, separated from the former by a group of islands called Day, at the headland of which lies the islet of Tárashám.[84]

It was with an anxious feeling that I bade farewell to that noble river as it turned away from us, not being sure whether it would fall to my lot to explore its further course, although it was my firm intention at the time to accomplish this task if possible. Thus we entered the branch of Koróme, keeping along the grass which here grows in the river to a great extent, till we reached the village, consisting of nothing but temporary huts of reed, which, in the course of a few weeks, with the rising of the waters, were to be removed further inland. Notwithstanding its frail character, this poor little village was interesting on account of its wharfs, where a number of boats were repairing. The master of our own craft residing here (for all the boatmen on this river are serfs, or nearly in that condition), we were obliged to halt almost an hour and a half; but in order not to excite the curiosity of the people, I thought it prudent to remain in my boat. But even there I was incommoded with a great number of visitors, who were very anxious to know exactly what sort of person I was. It was here that we heard the unsatisfactory news that El Bakáy, whose name as a just and intelligent chief alone had given me confidence to undertake this journey, was absent at the time in Gúndam, whither he had gone in order to settle a dispute which had arisen between the Tawárek and the Berabísh; and as from the very beginning, when I was planning my journey to Timbúktu, I had based the whole confidence of my success upon the noble and trustworthy character which was attributed to the Sheikh El Bakáy by my informants, this piece of information produced a serious effect upon me.