ABORTIVE ATTEMPT AT DEPARTURE FROM TIMBÚKTU.

I had been obliged to leave the town on the 17th of March, in consequence of the brothers of the Sheikh having deemed such a step essential for the security of the town, and advantageous to their own personal interest. Since that time my departure had been earnestly discussed almost daily, but nevertheless, amidst infinite delays and procrastinations, the 19th of April had arrived before we at length set out from our encampment, situated at the head of the remarkable and highly indented creek of Bóse-bángo.

Notwithstanding the importance of the day, my excellent friend the Sheikh El Bakáy could not even then overcome his habitual custom of taking matters easy. He slept till a late hour in the morning, while his pupils were disputing with the owners of the camels which had been hired for the journey, and who would not stir. At length my friend got up, and our sluggish caravan left the encampment. There were, besides our own camels, a good many asses belonging to the Gwanín, and laden with cotton strips. It was past eleven o’clock, and the sun had already become very troublesome, when we left the camp. The chief was so extremely fond of his wife and children, that it was an affair of some importance to take leave of them. I myself had become sincerely attached to his little boys, especially the youngest one, Zén el ʿAbidín, who, I am led to hope, will remember his friend ʿAbd el Kerím. But, notwithstanding my discontent at my protector’s want of energy, I could not be angry with him; and when he asked me whether he had now deceived me, or kept his word, I could not but praise his conduct, although I told him that I must first see the end of it. He smiled, and turning to his companion the old Haiballah (Habíb Allah), who had come from Ázawád to spend some time in his company, asked him whether I was not too mistrustful; but the event unluckily proved that I was not.

The vegetation in the neighbourhood of Bóse-bángo is extremely rich; but as we advanced gradually the trees ceased, with the exception of the kálgo, the bush so often mentioned by me in Háusa, and which here begins to be very common. I was greatly disappointed in my expectation of making a good day’s march, for, after proceeding a little more than three miles, I saw my tent, which had gone in advance, pitched in the neighbourhood of an encampment of Arabs belonging to the tribe of the Ergágeda. Here we stayed the remainder of the day, enjoying the hospitality of these people, who had to pay dearly for the honour of such a visit; for the pupils of my friend, who had capital appetites, required a great deal of substantial nourishment to satisfy their cravings; and besides a dozen dishes of rice, and a great quantity of milk, two oxen had to be slaughtered by our hosts. These Arabs, who formed here an encampment of about twenty-five spacious tents, made of sheepskins or fárrwel, have no camels, and possess only a few cows, their principal herds being sheep and goats, besides a large number of asses. They have been settled in this district, near the river, since the time when Sídi Mukhtár, the elder brother of El Bakáy, established himself in Timbúktu, that is to say, in the year 1832.

Although I should have liked much better to have made at once a fair start on our journey, I was glad that we had at least set out at all, and, lying down in the shade of a small kálgo tree, I indulged in the hope that in a period of from forty to fifty days I might reach Sókoto; but I had no idea of the unfavourable circumstances which were gathering to frustrate my hopes.

The whole of this district is richly clothed with siwák, or ʿirák (Capparis sodata), and is greatly infested with lions, for which reason we were obliged to surround our camping-ground with a thick fence, or zeríba; and the encampment of the Sheikh, for whom an immense leathern tent had been pitched, with his companions, horses, and camels, together with the large fires, presented a very imposing appearance. I was told that the lion hereabouts has no mane, or at least a very small one, like the lion of Ásben.

Thursday, April 20th.The first part of this day’s march led through a flat country, which some time before had been entirely inundated. Even at present, not only on the south side of the path, towards the river, were extensive inundations to be seen, but on the left, or north side, a large open sheet spread out. Having passed numbers of Tawárek, who were shifting their tents, as well as two miserable-looking encampments of the Shémman-Ámmas, whose movements afforded some proofs of the disturbed state of the country, we ascended the higher sandy bank, where I first observed the poisonous euphorbia, called here “abári e’ sebúwa,” or “táboru,” which generally grows in the shade of the trees, especially in that of acacias, and is said frequently to cause the death of the lion, from which circumstance its name is derived. Pursuing our easterly course, and keeping along the sandy bank, with a deep marshy ground on our right, we then reached a group of two encampments, one belonging to the Ídenan, and the other to the Shémman-Ámmas, and here halted during the hot hours of the day. Both the above-mentioned tribes are of a degraded character; and the women were anything but decent and respectable in their behaviour.

Having here decided that it was better to go ourselves and fetch the rest of our party whom we had sent in advance from Bóse-bángo, instead of despatching a messenger for them, although the place lay entirely out of our route, we started late in the afternoon, leaving our camels and baggage behind. Returning for the first mile and a half, almost along the same road we had come, then passing the site of a former encampment of the two chiefs named Mushtába and Rummán, whom I have mentioned before, we entered the swampy ground to the south along a narrow neck of land thickly overgrown with dúm-palms and brushwood, and thus affording a secure retreat to the lion. In the clear light of the evening, encompassed as the scenery was on either side, by high sandy downs towards the south on the side of the river, and by a green grassy ground with a channel-like sheet of water on the other it exhibited a very interesting spectacle highly characteristic of this peculiar watery region.

Having kept along this neck of land, which is called Temáharót, for about two miles, and reached its terminating point, we had to cross a part of the swamp itself which separates this rising ground from the downs on the bank of the river, and which less than a month previously had been impassable, while at present the sheet of water was interrupted, and was only from three to three and a half feet in depth at the deepest part. We then reached the downs, and here again turned westward, having the low swampy ground on our right, and an open branch of the river on our left.

This whole tract of country is of a very peculiar character, and presents a very different spectacle at various seasons of the year. During the highest state of the inundation, only the loftiest downs rise above the surface of the water like separate islands, and are only accessible by boats during the summer; while the low swampy grounds, laid bare and fertilised by the retiring waters, afford excellent pastures to innumerable herds of cattle. Even at present, while the sun was setting, the whole tract through which we were proceeding along the downs was enveloped in dense clouds of dust, raised by the numerous herds of the Kél-n-Nokúnder, who were returning to their encampment. Here we were most joyfully received by the followers of the Sheikh, who had been waiting already several days for us, and I received especially a most cordial welcome from my young friend Mohammed ben Khottár, the Sheikh’s nephew, whom I esteemed greatly on account of his intelligent and chivalrous character. He informed me how anxious they had been on my account, owing to our continued delay. Having brought no tent with me, a large leathern one was pitched, and I was hospitably treated with milk and rice.

The Kél-n-Nokúnder are a division of the numerous tribe of the Ídenán, and although in a political respect they do not enjoy the privileges of full liberty and nobility, yet, protected by the Kunta, and the Sheikh El Bakáy in particular, they have succeeded in retaining possession of a considerable number of cattle. All of them are tolba, that is to say, students; and they are all able to read. Some of them can even write, although the Ídenán cannot now boast of men distinguished for great learning as they could in former times.

All these people who come under the category of tolba, are distinguished by their fair complexion, and do not possess the muscular frame common among the free Ímóshagh. Their fair complexion is the more conspicuous, as the men, with scarcely an exception, wear white shirts and white turbans. All of them took a great interest in me, and looked with extreme curiosity upon the few European articles which I had with me at the time. After some little delay the next morning we left the place, and at that time I little fancied that I was soon to visit this spot again. It is called Ernésse, or Núkkaba el kebíra, the great (sandy) down.

Having this time excellent guides with us who knew the difficult ground thoroughly, after leaving the sandy downs, we struck right across the swampy meadow grounds, so that we reached our encampment on the other side of Amalélle in a much shorter time than on our out journey, while by continual windings we almost entirely avoided the swamps; but, without a good guide, no one can enter these low lands, which constitute a very remarkable feature in the character of the river. One of the Kél-n-Nokúnder, of the name of Ayóba, whom I had occasionally seen in the town, and who was not less distinguished by his loquacity than by his activity, here received a small present from me, as well as some of the Ídenán, who, during my absence, had treated my people hospitably.

Starting in the afternoon, after a march of about eight miles, at first through a low swampy country, afterwards through a sandy wilderness with an undulating surface and with high sandy downs towards the river, we reached an encampment of Kél-úlli, the same people who had repeatedly protected me during my stay in the town, and, on firing a few shots, we were received by our friends with the warlike demonstration of a loud beating of their shields. The hospitable treatment which they exhibited towards us in the course of the evening really filled me with pity on their account, for, having no rice or milk, they slaughtered not less than three oxen and twenty goats, in order to feast our numerous and hungry party, and make a holiday for themselves. Thus, having arrived after sunset, great part of the night was spent in revelling, and the encampment with the many fires, the numbers of people, horses, and beasts of burden, in the midst of the trees, formed a highly interesting scene.

In the course of the evening I received a visit from my protector. I had promised him another handsome present as soon as he should have fairly entered with me upon my home journey, and he now wanted to know what it was. I informed him that it consisted of a pair of richly ornamented pistols, which I had kept expressly for the occasion: but instead of at once taking possession of them, he requested me to keep them for him till another time; for he himself was no doubt fully aware that our journey was not yet fairly begun; and its abortive character became fully apparent the following day, when, after a march of less than seven miles, we encamped near the tents of Téni, or E’ Téni, the first chief of the Tarabanása.

The locality, which is called Téns-aróri, was of so swampy a character that we looked for some time in vain for a tolerably dry spot to pitch our tents, and it had a most unfavourable effect upon my health. Here we remained this and the two following days: and it became evident that as this chief persisted in his disobedience to his liege lord Alkúttabu, the other more powerful chief, Ákhbi, whose mutinous behaviour had been the chief reason of the former not coming to Timbúktu, would certainly follow his example. The fact was, that, irritated against their superior chief, or more probably treating him with contempt on account of his youth and want of energy, after the death of his predecessor, E’ Nábegha, they had fallen upon his mercenaries, especially the Shémman-Ámmas, and deprived them of their whole stock of cattle.

This was the first time that I saw these more easterly Tawárek in their own territory; and I was greatly astonished at their superior bearing in comparison with the Tademékket and Íregenáten, both in their countenance and in their dress. They were also richly ornamented with small metal boxes, made very neatly, and consisting of tin and copper: but it was in vain that I endeavoured to obtain some of them as a curiosity. They wore also a rich profusion of white rings, which are made of the bones of that very remarkable animal the “ayú,” or Manatus, which seems to be not less frequent in the western than in the eastern branch of the Niger. As a token of their nobility and liberty, all of them carried iron spears and swords, the degraded tribes not being allowed to make use of these manly weapons.

The encampment consisted of about thirty leathern tents, of great size; and, besides the Tarabanása, a party of the Kél-hekíkan of Zíllikay were encamped. This was a less favourable circumstance; for, while as yet I had been always on the best footing with these Tawárek, the latter proved rather troublesome: and I got involved in a religious dispute with one of their chiefs named Ayúb, or Sínnefel, against my inclination, which might have done me some harm. On his asking me why we did not pray in the same manner as themselves, I replied that our God did not live in the east, but was everywhere, and that therefore we had no occasion to offer up our prayers in that direction. This answer appeared to satisfy him: but he affected to be horrified when he heard that we did not practise circumcision, and endeavoured to excite the fanatical zeal of the whole camp against me. I, however, succeeded in partly effacing the bad impression thus caused, by making use of a Biblical expression, and observing that we circumcised our hearts, and not any other part of our body, having expressly abolished that rite, as it appeared to us to be an emblem of the Jewish creed.

I also told them that if they thought that circumcision was a privilege and an emblem of Islám, they were greatly mistaken, as many of the pagan tribes around them, whom they treated with so much contempt, practised this rite. This latter observation especially made a great impression upon them; and they did not fail to remark that I always knew how to parry any attack made against my creed. But, in other respects, I was very cautious in avoiding any dispute, and I was extremely lucky in not having anything to do with an arrogant relative of the Sheikh, of the name of ʿAbd e’ Rahmán Weled Síd, who had lately come from Ázawád to stay some time with his uncle, and obtain from him some present.

With the small presents which I made to each of the Tarabanása, I got on very well with them; but as for their women, who, as was always the case at these encampments, came in the evening to have a look at me, and, if possible, to obtain a small present, I left them without the least acknowledgment. Among the whole tribe I did not observe one distinguished in any manner by her beauty or becoming manners.

RETROGRADE MOVEMENT TOWARDS TIMBÚKTU.

The locality of Izéberen, where we had encamped, was not at all inviting, as it was but scantily provided with trees. Here we gave up our journey eastward, and again commenced our retrograde movement towards Timbúktu. I was now filled with the saddest forebodings; for after three or four days spent in vain dispute between the Sheikh and Ákhbi, the chief of the Igwádaren, who was encamped here, the latter persisted in his rebellious conduct against his liege lord Alkúttabu; and, instead of restoring what he had taken from the tribes placed under the protection of the latter, he made up his mind to follow the instigations of the Sheikh’s enemy and rival, Hammádi, and to throw himself into the arms of the Fúlbe and of the chief of Hamda-Alláhi. He thus caused an immense disturbance in this whole region; and in fact a bloody war broke out soon after my safe departure.

The encampment at Izéberen, to which this sad remembrance attaches, was tolerably enlivened with some interesting people, including as well some kinsmen of Ákhbi, as more especially the sons of Ég el Henne, Wóghdugu, and his brethren, Mohammed, Aníti, and Míni, all of whom are of a very cheerful disposition, and (as far as it is possible for a Tárki to be so) even amiable men. Among the former there was a boy named Kúngu, whose arrogance at first was a little troublesome, but eventually he became one of my best friends, and even now occupies a foremost place in my remembrance. He was a nephew of Ákhbi’s, and his father had been distinguished for his valour and warlike enterprise, but had been killed in battle at an early age, like most of the kinsfolk of this chief, so that the boy was brought up and educated by his mother, Tatináta, who was a daughter of Áwáb, the chief of the Tademékket whom I have repeatedly mentioned on former occasions.

Ákhbi himself was a man of about forty years of age, good-looking, but of an overbearing character. His father, Sálem, who had died a few months before at a very advanced age, had been distinguished by his intelligence, while Ákhbi, as soon as he acceded to power, had broken his allegiance to his liege lord, and entered into open hostilities with him. He had allowed his own small tribe, which scarcely numbered more than two hundred fighting men, to be divided into two hostile encampments, and in consequence of that feud had sustained a very heavy loss amongst his own followers. His quarrel with Alkúttabu was evidently a consequence of the intrigues of the Fúlbe and Hammádi, who, seeing that the political power of the Sheikh El Bakáy was based upon his friendship with the chief of the Awelímmiden, used all his endeavours to raise up an adversary to the latter; and the progress of this struggle, of which I did not see the end, may have been productive of great changes in the political relations of Timbúktu.

The endeavour to preserve the unity of the whole tribe of the Awelímmiden, which my protector had sincerely at heart, and thus to keep up the friendly relation of this tribe with that of the Igwádaren, induced him to postpone my interests, and to return once more westward, in order to exert his utmost to settle this serious affair. For the very tribe of the Igwádaren, from the first, when they were settled in Ázawád, had been the protectors of the Kunta, the tribe to which the family of Mukhtár belonged, and had especially defended them against the hostilities of the Ígelád, by whose subjection the former had founded their power. El Bakáy could not but see with the most heartfelt sorrow his former supporters likely to become the auxiliaries of his enemies; and his brother, Sídi Mohammed, whom he had left to fill his place in Timbúktu during his absence, had sent an express messenger from the town, requesting him to come, in order that he might consult with him upon the state of affairs.

As for myself, being anxious about my own interest, and fearing even for my life, which I was convinced was seriously threatened by another return towards Timbúktu, I employed every means in my power to persuade my friend to allow me to pursue my journey eastward, in the company of those pupils and followers of his whom he had promised to send along with me. But he would not consent to this, and I felt extremely dejected at the time, and could not but regard this retrograde journey to Timbúktu as a most unfortunate event.

Just at this time the news was brought, by way of Ghadámes, of the French having completely vanquished the Shaamba, and made an expedition to Wárgelá and Metlíli. In consequence of this report, the fear of the progress of these foreign and hated intruders into the interior of these regions became very general, and caused suspicion to attach to me, as these people could not but think that my journey to their country had some connection with the expedition of the French. But, taking all the circumstances into account, I found afterwards that my friend was altogether right in postponing for the time my journey eastward.

Sunday, April 30th.This was the sad day when, with the most gloomy forebodings, I began my return journey towards the west. There had been the most evident signs of the approach of the rainy season, which in the zone further to the south had already set in, when, after so many reiterated delays, I was obliged once more to return towards that very place which I had felt so happy in having at length left behind me.

My protector was well aware of the state of my feelings, and while the people were loading the camels he came to me, and once more excused himself on account of this retrograde movement. There were, besides myself, some Arabs of the tribe of Gwanín, who wanted to go on to Ghérgo, in order to buy tobacco, and who now likewise were obliged to return once more to the westward, as they had no guarantee for their security in making the journey alone.

The splendid river along the banks of which lay our road, and which here was about half a mile across, afforded the only consolation in my cheerless mood. The junction of the two branches, as seen from this spot, presented a very fine spectacle. The gerredh trees also, which were in full blossom, attracted my attention.

Keeping a little nearer to the sandy downs, we soon reached the place of our former encampment in Taútilt. Having then passed along the small backwater of Barkánge, the volume of which had greatly decreased in these few days, we encamped about four miles beyond, in the open swampy ground which we had had such difficulty in crossing on our outward journey. It is called Erásar. In this low ground, between two swamps and about 800 yards from the bank of the river, without the shade of the smallest tree, the Igwádaren had encamped. It was owing to these swampy sites that I was afflicted with those severe rheumatic pains, from which I afterwards suffered so much in Bórnu, and which I occasionally feel even now.

The place was the more disagreeable, as we remained here the three following days, El Bakáy endeavouring all the time to persuade the chief Ákhbi to restore the property which he had taken from the subjects of his liege lord. I was in the mean time, anxious to keep up a friendly intercourse with the people with whom I was thus brought into contact, although most of the Igwádaren had already gone on in advance to their new retreat, and at that time were collected at Ernésse; while the straightforward and fearless chief Wóghdugu, and his friend Shamuwél, were still behind. I took a great interest in the name of the latter; for I thought that the names of Shamuwél, Sául, and Daniél—all being of frequent occurrence among this tribe, while, as far as I am aware, none of them is found among the Arabs,—tend to confirm the closer relation which these Berbers keep up with the Canaanitic tribes than with the Arabs. There was, in particular, a man of the name of Sáma, who was very friendly with me. On reading with him some writing in “Tefínaghen,” or the native Berber character, I became aware that this word signifies nothing more than tokens or alphabet. For as soon as the people beheld my books, and observed that they all consisted of letters, they exclaimed repeatedly, “Tefínaghen—ay—Tefínaghen!” and my little friend Kúngu, who had just learned the Arabic alphabet, was very anxious to know something about the value of the letters. I here also had proof of the great dislike which the Tawárek have to the name of their father being mentioned, for when the little Haibálla, the companion of the son of the Sheikh, mentioned the death of Kúngu’s father, the little fellow flew into a great rage, and was ready to kill him on the spot.

I received, besides, a great deal of information from a young man who had lately come from the north, in order to study under the Sheikh. He belonged to the Welád Yoʿaza, a section of the tribe of the Méshedúf, which originally appears to have been of pure Berber extraction, being identical with the celebrated tribe of the Masúfa, but who, at present, have become Arabicised. He was evidently a man of a good family; but being now rather scantily supplied with food, he took refuge with me, in order to enjoy my hospitality. On this occasion I learned from him a great deal with regard to some districts of the desert, with which I had been unacquainted.

In the same encampment, we received full confirmation of the news with regard to the progress of the French towards the south, and of their having taken possession of Wárgelá. The excitement produced in consequence was very great, and made my situation extremely difficult and dangerous. The Sheikh El Bakáy came twice in the same afternoon to me, expressing his intention of uniting the strength of the Tawátíye and the Awelímmiden in a common attack upon the French. But I endeavoured to show him the absurdity of such a proceeding, telling him that they themselves would gain nothing by such inconsiderate conduct, and would only furnish a fresh pretext to the French for penetrating farther into the interior. Moreover, I gave it as my opinion, that the latter, unless instigated, would not undertake such a thing as a military expedition to these distant regions, but would endeavour to open commercial intercourse with them in a peaceful manner. There the matter stopped for the moment.

Thursday, May 4th.All the exertions of the Sheikh to persuade Ákhbi to return the property which he had taken by force from the tribes placed under the protection of the Awelímmiden being in vain, the latter broke up his encampment, in order to pursue his journey westward in search of new protectors and allies. To prevent the mischief which might result from this course, my friend followed, and I was obliged reluctantly to accompany him. The river had fallen considerably since I had last visited this district, and the scanty foliage of the lower part of the trees in the swampy tract which we traversed in the beginning of our march, bore evident testimony to the higher state of the water some time before.

Leaving then our former camping-ground in Tens-aróri on one side, we encamped after a march of a little more than six miles, on ground which was still so extremely damp that almost all my luggage was spoiled, while it likewise exercised a most unfavourable effect upon my health. We had previously had evident signs of the approach of the rainy season; but, to-day, we had the first regular shower accompanied by a thunderstorm, and rain fell round about us in a much more considerable quantity. The Tawárek were well aware that this was the real beginning of the rainy season, giving vent to their feelings in the words “ákase yúse”—“the rainy season has set in;” but my Arab companions, who repeatedly assured me that long before the setting in of the rainy season I should certainly reach Sókoto, would not acknowledge this as a regular rain, but qualified it as quite an exceptional phenomenon connected with the setting of the “Pleiads,” and calling it in sequence, “mághreb el thrayá.”

There was a great dread of lions in our encampment. I especially was warned to be on my guard, as my camping-ground, which I had surrounded with a fence, closely approached a jungle of rank grass; but we passed the night unmolested.

Friday, May 5th.Although I had been promised that we should certainly not pass this place on our return westward, nevertheless, in the morning the order was suddenly given to decamp; and on we went, Ákhbi in the van and we in the rear, passing many small temporary encampments of the Igwádaren, who were exiling themselves from their own country. Having thus made a short march of about four miles, through a country now rising in sandy downs, covered with siwák and dúm-bush, at other times spreading out in low swampy meadow-grounds, and leaving Índikuway on our left, we encamped again in the midst of a swamp, at a short distance from the bank of the river. Fortunately, there was some rising ground, opening a fine view over the river, which here formed an arm of about 600 yards in breadth, while the opposite shore of Áribínda exhibited a very pleasant background. Cautiously I pitched my tent as high as possible, with the door looking towards the river, in order to console myself with the aspect of the stream. A beautiful jéja or caoutchouc tree, here called énderen, which I scarcely remember to have seen anywhere else in the whole of this district, gave life and animation to the encampment. A few miles towards the west, the high sandy downs of Úle Tehárge formed also an object of great interest.

It was extremely fortunate that the ground of this encampment did not present such a uniform level as in our last day’s ámazágh, for in the afternoon we were visited by a violent tempest, which threw back the fence that we had erected around our camping-ground, upon ourselves and our horses, and threatened to tear the tent to pieces: then, having made the round of the whole horizon, it returned once more from the north and discharged itself in a terrific shower, which lasted more than two hours, and changed the whole of the lower part of the plain into a large lake.

This thunderstorm afforded evident proofs of the full power of the rainy season; and as I had not yet even begun my long journey eastward, through districts so full of large rivers and of swampy valleys, my feelings may be more easily imagined than described. I felt very dissatisfied with the Sheikh El Bakáy, and he, on his part, was well aware of it. His own trustworthy and amiable character inspired me with the confidence that I should at length get safely out of all my trouble; but an immense amount of Job-like patience was required, for we staid in this encampment the five following days.