Meanwhile my good and benevolent protector was in a most unpleasant dilemma, between his regard for his own interest and his respect for myself. He severely rebuked the Tárki chief for having disturbed the friendly relation which had formerly existed between himself and me; for since our retrograde movement, in order to incite my friend to a greater degree of energy, I never went to his tent, although he repeatedly paid me a visit. At length, after mature consideration, the Sheikh had decided that I, together with the greater part of his followers, should go to Ernésse, there to await his return, while he himself intended to approach still nearer to Timbúktu, although he affirmed that he would not enter the town under any condition.

Thus we separated the next morning, and I took leave of the friends whom I had made among the tribe of the Igwádaren. These people were leaving their former homes and their former allies, in order to seek new dwelling-places and new friends. There was especially, the little Kúngu, who, early in the morning, came on his white horse to bid me farewell. We had become very good friends, and he used to call daily to talk with me about distant countries, and the different varieties of nations as far as he had any idea of such things. He was an intelligent and chivalrous lad, and with his long black hair, his large expressive eyes, and his melancholy turn of mind, I liked him much. When I told him that he would yet become one of the great chiefs of the Tawárek, and a celebrated warrior, he expressed his fear that it would be his destiny to die young like his brothers, who had all fallen in battle at an early age; but I consoled him, and promised that if any friend of mine should visit these regions after me, I would not fail to send him a present for himself. He regretted having left the neighbourhood of Bámba, which he extolled very highly on account of its fine trees and rich pasture-grounds; but he spoke enthusiastically of the Ráfar-n-áman, or, as the Arabs call it, the Rás el má, with the rich grassy backwaters and creeks which surround it, especially the valley called Tisórmaten, the reminiscences of which filled his boyish mind with the highest delight.

Thus I took leave of this young Tárki lad, after having given him such little presents as I could spare. Swinging himself upon his horse by means of his iron spear, he rode off with a martial air, probably never to hear of me again. I took the opposite direction, along the shore of the creek Amalélle, accompanied by a guide whom Áhmed el Wadáwi had brought from Ernésse, and followed by Mohammed ben Khottár the Sheikh’s nephew, Sídi-Mohammed the Sheikh’s son, and almost the whole of his followers. However, the company of all these people did not inspire me with so much confidence that my friend and protector would not tarry long behind, as the fact of the presence of his favourite female cook Díko who accompanied us, and whose services my friend could scarcely dispense with; and I thus agreed in the opinion of his confidential pupil Mohammed el Ámín, who, knowing well the character of his teacher, disputed with energy with those amongst my companions who thought that the Sheikh would send us word to join him in the town.

I therefore cheerfully enjoyed once more the very peculiar character of this river district, with its many creeks, small necks of land, and extensive swamps. Since we had last visited this place the waters had retired considerably, and the extensive swampy lowlands between Temáharót and Ernésse had become quite dry, so that we had to cross only a narrow channel-like strip of water. Following then the sandy downs, we soon reached the well known encampment of the Kél-n-nokúnder, where I was hospitably entertained with a bowl of ghussub water. I was disposed to enjoy in privacy the view over the river, while lying in the shade of a siwák, but the number of Tawárek who were passing by did not allow me much leisure, for the tents of Sául, as well as those of El Wóghdugu, were at a short distance. But these people, conscious of their having deserved punishment at the hand of their liege lord, were frightened away by the rising of a simúm, as it is popularly believed in the country that this wind is the sign of the approach of the great army, or tábu, of the Awelímmiden, and they all started off the next morning.

The river, which is here very broad, forms a large low island called Banga-gúngu, the “hippopotamus island,” while a smaller one, distinguished by a fine tamarind tree, is called Búre. I endeavoured in the afternoon to reach the bank of the river itself; but it is beset with a peculiar kind of grass of great height, armed with such offensive bristles that it is almost impossible to penetrate through it. In the latter part of the cold and during the hot season, a path leads along this low grassy shore, but, during some months of the year, the water reaches the very downs. It is a fine spot for an encampment, the air being good. But the whole site consists only of a narrow sandy ridge, backed towards the north by an extensive swamp, the border of which is girt with the richest profusion of vegetation, interwoven with creeping plants, and interspersed with dúm-bush. This place is called “úggada,” and forms a haunt for numbers of wild beasts, especially lions, and the inhabitants gave an animated description of a nocturnal combat which, two days previously, had raged between two lions on account of a lioness.

It had been decided that we should await here the return of the Sheikh; but, after we had passed the following day in this place, our friends the Kél-n-nokúnder, already satisfied with the honour of entertaining so many guests for one day, endeavoured to escape from our hands, and, without having given us the slightest warning, on the morning of Saturday suddenly removed their encampment. Fortunately they went eastward, in which direction I would have followed them to the end of the world. Thus my companions, the télamíd, rushed after them like hungry vultures after their prey. I had my things packed in a moment, and we followed them along the same narrow neck of downs on which our route had lain in coming from Amalélle; but, instead of traversing the swamp by the ford northward, we kept along it towards the east, where the downs gradually decrease in height, being overgrown with colocynths, and, further on, with túrsha, or Asclepias gigantea, and the blue Crucifera or daman-kádda. Further on they cease entirely, and give way to a low shore, which, during the highest state of the inundation, forms a connection between the river and the swampy background stretching out behind the downs.

Here, where the river takes a fine sweep to the south-east, and forms several islands, was situated in former times a town of the name of Belesáro, but, at present, nothing but groups of a beautiful species of wild fig-tree, called here duwé, mark this spot as the former scene of human industry.

Crossing then a low swampy ground, overgrown with rich býrgu and rank reed grass, we reached the high sandy downs of Úle-Tehárge, which had already attracted my attention from our encampment in Tehárge. On the highest part of these downs the Kél-n-nokúnder chose the place for their new encampment, and I fixed upon a former fence, wherein I pitched my tent, which from this elevated position was visible over a great part of the river. But my young friend, the Sheikh’s nephew, imbued with the superstitious prejudices of his mother, always greatly objected to my using the former dwelling-places of other people, as if they were haunted by spirits.

It was a beautiful camping-ground, elevated about 150 feet above the surface of the river, over which it afforded a magnificent prospect, the river here forming a very noble sheet of water. It is asserted, however, that in summer it is fordable at the place called Énsowéd. A little beyond the end of the downs, where it formed another reach towards the south, the river presented the appearance of an extensive lake. Nearer the opposite shore a low grassy island called Rábara stretched out, and another narrow strip of ground called Wáraka was separated from the shore, on our side, by a narrow channel, and overgrown with the finest býrgu. Towards the south, the steep sandy downs were bordered by a strip of rich vegetation, behind which a green swampy plain stretched out, intersected by an open channel, which separated us from the main, where another village of the Kél-n-nokúnder was lying, the barking of whose dogs was distinctly heard.

The small creek which separated the island of Wáraka from our shore was full of crocodiles, some of which measured as much as eighteen feet, the greatest length which I have ever seen this animal attain in Central Africa; and swimming just below the surface of the water, with the head occasionally peeping forth, they greatly threatened the security of the cattle, who were grazing on the fine rank grass growing on the border of the creek. In the course of the day these voracious and most dangerous animals succeeded in seizing two cows belonging to our hosts, and inflicted a very severe wound upon a man who was busy cutting grass for my horses.

This man had attached himself to my party in order to return to Háusa, which was originally his home. But there was a great difference of opinion as to whether he was at liberty to go, although he was a liberated slave, and I was given to understand that his company might involve me in disputes with his former masters; for, in general, even liberated slaves are supposed to observe some sort of duty to their former employers. Nevertheless, I had allowed him to stay, but was now obliged to send him back to Timbúktu, as almost the whole of his foot had been carried away by the monster, so that he was entirely unfit for the journey, and required immediate relief.

The view of the river was the more interesting, as a strong north-east wind, or, as the Tawárek say, “erífe,” ruffled its surface so considerably, that it crested the waves with white foam, and presented a very animated appearance, the magnificent sheet of water, the green island and shore, and the high ridge of the wide sandy downs, forming a most pleasing contrast.

There was, also, no lack of intercourse. Sometimes it was some fishermen of the Songhay who solicited my hospitality in the evening; at others, it was a troop of Tawárek horsemen, who came to see the Christian stranger of whom they had heard so much. The most remarkable among them were the horsemen of the Kél-tabórit, and the Kél-támuláit[27], with whom I had a long conversation, in the course of which I endeavoured to make them understand that the whole of this extensive region, of which they knew only a small part, was “nothing but a large island, or gúngu” (“gúngu ghás”), in the great salt sea, just as the island of Rábara, opposite to us, was with regard to the Niger, or the Eghírrëu, the only name by which this river is known to all the Berber tribes. They thus became aware that the dominion of the sea was of some importance, as it gave access to all these countries, whereas before they had only looked with a sort of contempt upon people living only, as they thought, in vessels on the sea; and they were not a little surprised when I told them that we were able to come up this river from the sea. They likewise had heard, and some of them perhaps had even seen, something of that adventurous Christian who, fifty years ago, had navigated this river, and who, even after this lapse of time, remains a mysterious and insoluble enigma to them, as to the place from whence he so suddenly appeared, and whither he was going.

The influence of conversation is great among these simple dwellers of the desert, and the more we talked the more friendly became the behaviour of my visitors, till at last they asked me why I did not marry one of their daughters and settle among them. On the other side of the river there were encampments of the Imedíddiren and Terféntik, and some of the latter paid our hosts a rather abrupt visit, taking away from them a head of cattle, so that the Sheikh’s nephew, Mohammed ben Khottár, was obliged to cross the river in order to obtain damages from them. The Kél-n-nokúnder, who in former times had been greatly ill-used by the free Imóshagh, have been imbued by their protectors the Kunta with such a feeling of independence, that they are now not inclined to bear even the slightest injustice, and they had certainly some right to demand that, at the very moment while they were treating so large a party belonging to their protector, they should not themselves suffer any violence. However, I heard to my great surprise, that they likewise pay zekʿa to the Fúlbe, or Fullán. My friend, who had some trouble in persuading the freebooters from beyond the river to restore the property, represented them to me as fine tall men, kinsfolk of the Tarabanása, but very poor. It is really surprising that a family of peaceable men should exercise such an influence over these wild hordes, who are continually waging war against each other, merely from their supposed sanctity and their purity of manners.

The interesting character of the locality did not suffice, however, for our material welfare, and my companions made serious complaints on account of the scanty supply of food which they received from our hosts; and for this reason they were almost as eager to hear some news of the Sheikh as I myself.

From our former encampment in Ernésse, I had sent my servant, Mohammed el Gatróni, into the town in order to procure me a supply of the most necessary provisions, as my former stock was entirely consumed; and it was fortunate, on this account, that I had saved 5000 shells, which I was able to give him for this purpose. He now joined us again in this place on the 14th, and, of course, every one hastened to learn what news he had brought from the town and from the camp of the Sheikh. He had arrived in Timbúktu a little before sunset, and, having finished, without delay, his purchases of the articles wanted by me, immediately hurried away to the camp of my protector; for, as soon as the news of the arrival of my servant had got abroad in the town in conjunction with the return of the Sheikh to his camp, the utmost excitement prevailed amongst the townspeople, who fancied that I myself was returning, and, in consequence, the alarm drum was beaten. My servant also informed me that the Tawátíye themselves were greatly excited against me, as if I had had anything to do with the proceedings of the French against Wárgelá; and he assured me, that, if I had still been in the town, they would have been the first to have threatened my life. He had only slept one night in the camp, and then left early the following morning, and therefore knew nothing about our protector’s coming, but he confirmed the fact that there were letters for me. Fortunately, on returning, he had been informed that we had changed our camping-ground, and finding a guide, he had been able to join us without delay. The suníye of negro-millet fetched at the time, in the market of Timbúktu, 4500; a large block of salt of about 60 lb. weight, 5000; and kóla nuts, from 80 to 100 shells each. With my limited supply of means, it was fortunate that I never became accustomed to the latter luxury.

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CHAP. LXXV.

FINAL AND REAL START. — CREEKS ON THE NORTHERN BANKS OF THE NIGER. — GHÉRGHO. — BAMBA.

Wednesday, May 17th.About noon the whole encampment was thrown into a state of the greatest excitement, by the arrival of two of the Sheikh’s followers, who informed us that our friend had not only left the camp, but had even passed us, keeping along the northern border of the swamp which stretched behind our camping-ground. All was joy and excitement, and in an instant my tent was struck, and my luggage arranged on the backs of the camels. But we had to take a very roundabout way to get out of this place, surrounded and insulated as it was by deep swamps, for with our horses and camels, together with our heavy luggage, we could not think of crossing the creek which entirely cuts off the downs of Úle-Tehárge. We were thus obliged to return all the way to Belesáro, almost as far as our previous fording-place between Amalélle and Ernésse. Here, cutting through the swampy plain (which at present at this spot was for the greater part dry), along the localities called Tín-éggedád, and further on Oráken, we at length, having gained firm ground, were able to change our direction to the east along Elíggedúf and Ewábe. We had just marched three hours, when we found ourselves opposite our encampment on the downs, separated from them by the swampy ground of about half a mile in extent.

Uncertain as to the direction which our friend had taken, we now began to rove about, here and there, in search of him; but there was no inducement to tarry long, as, by the breaking up of a great number of encampments of the Tawárek, an innumerable host of small flies had been left in this district without occupation and sustenance, and thus left destitute of their usual food greedily attacked ourselves. Leaving then behind us the low downs, which were thickly covered with dúm-bush, the resort of a numerous host of guinea fowl, we entered again low swampy ground, and at length, after having traversed a thickly wooded district, ascertained the spot whither the Sheikh had betaken himself, which was at a place called Ákale, the eminence on the bank of the river being called Ém-aláwen. But, when we at length reached it, we found the holy man sleeping in the shade of a siwák, or Capparis, and the noise of our horses, as we came galloping along, was not sufficient to awaken him from his deep slumber. Such was the mild and inoffensive character of this man, in the midst of these warlike and lawless hordes.

Waiting till my protector should rise from his peaceful slumber, I sat down in the shade of a rich siwák, enjoying the faint prospect of my journey home, now opening before me.

At length my friend awoke, and I went to him. He received me with a gentle smile, telling me that he was now ready to conduct me on my journey without any further delay or obstruction, and handing me at the same time a parcel of letters and papers. There were copies of two letters from Lord John Russell, of the 19th February 1853; one from Lord Clarendon, of the 24th of the same month; a letter from Chevalier Bunsen; another from Colonel Hermann; and two from Her Majesty’s agent in Fezzán. There were no other letters, either from home or from any of my friends; but there were, besides, ten Galignanis, and a number of the Athenæum, of the 19th March 1853.

I can scarcely describe the intense delight I felt at hearing again from Europe, but still more satisfactory to me was the general letter of Lord John Russell, which expressed the warmest interest in my proceedings. The other letters chiefly concerned the sending out of Dr. Vogel and his companions, which opened to me the prospect of finding some European society in Bórnu, if I should succeed in reaching my African head-quarters in safety. But of the expedition to the Tsadda or Bénuwé, which had started for its destination some time previously to the date of my receiving these letters, I obtained no intimation by this opportunity; and, indeed, did not obtain the slightest hint of that undertaking, of which I myself was to form a part, till December, when it had already returned to England.

I thanked the Sheikh for having at length put me in possession of these despatches, but I repeated at the same time my previous remark, that if he and his friends wanted to have “imána,” or well established peaceable intercourse with us, security ought first of all to prevail as to our letters, and I was assured that this parcel had been lying in Ázawád for at least two months. But the Sheikh excused himself, stating that one of the chief men in that district, probably the chief of the Bérabísh, had kept them back under the impression that they might contain something prejudicial to his country; an opinion which, of course, could not fail to be confirmed by the proceedings of the French in the south-western districts bordering upon Algeria. But, altogether, the history of this parcel was marvellous. It had evidently come by way of Bórnu; yet there was not a single line from the vizier, who, if all had been right, I felt sure would have written to me; moreover, the outer cover had been taken off, although the seal of the inner parcel had not been injured. But the reason, of which I, however, did not become aware till a much later period, was this, that, before the parcel left Sókoto, the news of the execution of the vizier had already reached that place, when the letter addressed by that person to myself was taken away, and probably also something else which he had sent for me. But, it moreover happened that the man who was commissioned to convey the parcel to Timbúktu was slain by the Góberáwa, or Mariadáwa, on the road between Gando and Say, at a moment when the packet was by accident left in the hands of a companion of his, who, pursuing his route in safety, took it to Ázawád. But the death of the principal bearer of the letters addressed to me, in all probability, contributed not a little to confirm the rumour of myself having been slain near Marádi. However, at that time, and even much later, I had no idea that such rumours were current in the quarter which I had left.

Thursday, May 18th.It was with a very pleasant feeling that I at length found myself in the company of my noble host, again pursuing my journey eastward; and I enjoyed the peculiar features of the country with tolerable ease and comfort. The varied composition of our troop, among whom there were several well disposed friends, afforded also much relief.

The country was the same that I had already traversed; but it presented some new features, as we followed another path. I was principally struck with the enormous size of the “retem,” or broom, which here assumed the proportions of considerable trees of more than twenty feet in height, while the siwák, or Capparis sodata, was in great abundance.

Having rested, after a march of about ten miles, in a dense part of the forest, which is said to be frequented by lions, we pursued our march in the afternoon; when, proceeding along the swampy creek of Barkánge, which was now almost dried up, and passing Tautilt, we pitched our tents a little beyond the former ámazágh of the chief Wóghda, near a camp of the Welád-Molúk. The branch of the river at this spot was at present so shallow, that a flock of sheep was seen fording it towards the island; waterfowl, also, and especially such birds as live upon fish, were in immense numbers. Crocodiles were seen in abundance, and caused us some anxiety for the horses, which were pasturing on the fine rank grass at the border of the river.

The Tawárek having now left the banks of the river, the black natives seemed to be more at their ease, and several boats belonging to the Songhay crossed over to us from the island of Kóra. I had seen the male portion of the Arab tribe of the Welád-Molúk on a former occasion, but I here, for the first time, saw their wives and daughters, who, attracted by curiosity, came in the evening to catch a glimpse of the Christian stranger, and were roving about my tent, but I did not observe a single attractive person among them, and, feeling rather sleepy, paid but little attention to them.

Friday, May 19th.While the other members of our troop kept more inland, I followed the bank of the river, which here, with its fine open sheet of water, presents a highly interesting aspect, till I reached our old camping-ground at Izéberen, from whence I had some difficulty in rejoining my friends, for the whole of this part of the river is full of backwaters and creeks, which renders the communication rather difficult to people who are not well acquainted with the character of the country, but on this very account they afford rich pasture-grounds after the river has begun to decrease. Unfortunately, even now, when we had finally entered upon our journey, the dilatory character of my host remained unaltered, and, after a march of seven miles, we halted near a small encampment of the Kél-n-nokúnder, professedly as if we were to start again in the afternoon, but in reality in order to pass the night there. However, I was glad that we had at least gone beyond the place which we had reached on our former abortive start.

The locality was adorned with some luxuriant specimens of duwé, and the tagelálet, or agáto. Under one of these fine trees, the dense foliage of which almost reached the ground, I passed the heat of the day in friendly conversation with some of the peaceable Tolba, who came to have a chat with me on religious topics. When the cool of the evening set in, I pitched my tent near the bank of the open branch of the river, which was girt by a fine border of rank grass; but the river was here broken, and did not present that noble character which I was wont to admire in it.

Saturday, May 20th.We were to start at a very early hour, but the difficulty of making out the right path among these numerous swamps and creeks, kept us back till all our companions were ready. We then had to turn round a very difficult swamp, which had now begun to dry up, and where we observed the first traces of the wild hog that I had hitherto seen along this part of the Niger. After we had left this swamp behind us, the river exhibited its truly magnificent character, and we proceeded close along the border of its limpid waters, on a beautiful sandy beach, our left being shut in by high sandy downs, richly clad with dúm-palms and tagelálet.

It was here, for the first time, that I observed the traces of the zangway. This animal appears to be quite distinct from the crocodile, and perhaps resembles the American igwana. It is much smaller than the crocodile; and its footprint indicated a much broader foot, the toes being apparently connected by a continuous membrane. Unfortunately I never obtained a sight of the animal itself, but only observed its footprints in the sand: it attains, as it seems, only to the length of from six to eight feet.

The well-defined character of the river, however, did not last long, and again there succeeded the low swampy shore, which occasionally obliged us to keep at a greater distance from the main trunk, while the vegetation in general was abundant. The predominant tree in this district, also, was the siwák, or Capparis, which, with its small berries, which were just ripening, afforded us occasionally a slight refreshment. They can, however, only be taken in small quantities, as they have a very strong taste, like pepper, and on this account are much pleasanter when they are dried, in which state they afford a not inconsiderable portion of the food of the nomadic inhabitants of these regions. Besides the siwák, or “tésak,” there was also a great quantity of “retem,” which is here called atárkit or ásabay; further on, dúm-palms became very prevalent.

Leaving, then, the locality called Tahónt on our left, we reached a very large grassy creek, which was enlivened by herds of cattle, and encamped on its border, in the shade of a dense belt of fine trees, woven together by an immense number of climbing plants. The whole bottom of the valley was at least seven hundred yards wide, and behind a smaller strip of water a larger open branch was observed, intersecting the rich grassy valley. It is very remarkable, that neither the Imóshagh, or Tawárek, nor the Arabs, have, as far as I am aware, a name sufficiently expressive for these shallow vales; the Arabs in general calling an open creek of water “rejl” or “krá,” and a less open one “bot-há;” while the Tawárek call them in general an arm, properly a leg, of the river, or “ádar-n-eghírrëu;” but the native Háusa name “fáddama” is far more significant. It was on this account that Caillié called the whole of these shallow creeks by the corrupted Jolof name, “marigot.”

Close behind our encampment the ground formed a slight slope, and presented the site or tazámbut of a former Songhay place called Hendi-kíri, a place which is perhaps identical with Kambakíri, mentioned in the history of Songhay as the spot where a dreadful battle was fought between two rival pretenders.[28] It is difficult to imagine the different aspect which this country must have presented in former times, when all the favourable sites formed the seats of flourishing dwelling-places, and animated intercourse was thronging along the track on the side of the river. It was a fine halting-place, characteristic of the whole nature of this region; but the ants were very numerous, and disturbed us greatly during our short halt.

After resting for about four hours, we pursued our march eastward, keeping for the first mile close along the bot-há, which soon changed its character to a considerable open sheet of water. Leaving then this water, and crossing several smaller grassy creeks, and traversing a low sandy ridge, we reached another large backwater; and winding along it in a south-easterly direction, through bushes and dúm-palms, we reached, after a march of about six miles, an interesting sandy headland called Ém-n-kúris, situated at the point where the creek joins the river, which here forms a fine sweep, changing its course from a west-easterly to a south-northerly direction.

On this open sandy promontory we chose the spot for our night’s quarters, opposite an encampment of the Kél-antsár which was situated on the other side of the creek, and enlivened by dúm-palms. The river itself formed a fine open sheet, broken only by a small island, and, being animated by several boats, exhibited a grand spectacle. There was a good deal of consultation in the evening between the eldermen, or ámaghár, of the Kél-antsár and my protector, with regard to the course to be pursued under the present political circumstances of the country, these poor people scarcely knowing which party to follow amidst the general confusion which prevailed. I learned on this occasion that the Ígelád, to whom the tribe of the Kél-antsár belongs, have three learned chiefs or judges, the most respected of whom, El Táher, lives at Rás el má. The night which we passed here on a rising ground just over the stream was beautifully fresh, while the elevation caused us to be exempt from the plague usual in these swampy lowlands.

Sunday, May 21st.While we were breaking up our encampment and loading our animals, the opposite camp of our friends was enlivened by numerous herds of sheep and goats, and we should have made a very interesting day’s march, as we were now approaching a better-inhabited district, if it had not been for the hospitable treatment of our hosts, who, in order to satisfy their numerous visitors, had probably, the preceding night, mixed together all sorts of milk, so that almost all the people were seriously ill; and the first part of our march presented so distressing a spectacle that most of my companions thought the milk had been poisoned.

Thus we passed a remarkable locality on a rising sandy bank behind a considerable creek, which, by its name Tamizgída, evidently indicates the site of a former dwelling-place, and is probably identical with the Tírka (or rather Tírekka) of Arab geographers[29], if that identity does not apply to Ghérgo. Having passed this place, we followed the shallow water, which gradually widened, being intersected by fences and dykes for the purpose of cultivating rice and catching fish. Larger trees became gradually more scanty, indicating our approach to a still existing dwelling-place, as is generally the case in Negroland, the trees being consumed for firewood; but just as we came in sight of this place, which is Ghérgo (pronounced Rérgo), in order to avoid the heat during the midday hours, on an almost unprotected shore, we thought it better to halt in the shade of the last trees. I myself found shelter under the densely woven foliage of a fine group formed by the union of a géza with an aghelál, where I had nothing better to do than to treat all my people with tea and coffee, in order to restore their wasted spirits and strength, as they had suffered greatly from their last night’s diet.

Our road from this point to the town led along the border of the swampy lowlands, following a great many windings round the indented shore of the creek. Thus we reached, after a march of a little more than two miles, the bank opposite the village of Ghérgo, and began looking about for some time for a fit place to encamp, for the village itself, situated as it is behind a large backwater, could not be reached. The opposite shore is extremely bleak and unbroken, being destitute even of bush, while only three isolated trees dotted the ground for a great distance, and these were unfortunately too far off from the ford, where we chose our camping-ground, to be of any use to us during our stay.

Ghérgo is a place not without interest, and seems to be of considerable antiquity. According to tradition, it is stated to be seven years older than Túmbutu, or Timbúktu, and seems therefore well deserving of a right to be identified with one of the celebrated centres of life in these regions in the first dawn of historical record. It was originally situated on the main, occupying an eminence a little to the east of our encampment, till, in more recent times, the weakened and unprotected inhabitants were obliged to retire behind the backwater from fear of the Tawárek. Certainly, the insular nature of their dwelling-place is of a rather indistinct character; for in general, with the exception of those years when the inundations of the river reach an extraordinary height, as had been the case this year, the smaller branch dries up to such an extent, that a person may enter the place without wetting his feet; but this happens at a season when their tormentors the Tawárek leave the banks of the river and retire inland, so that they suffer but little from them. This year the high state of the inundation had inspired them with so much confidence, that they had refused their boats to the tábu, or the army of their great liege lord himself. The river had risen to such an elevation, that it had reached their very huts, which, separated into three distinct groups, are situated on a slightly rising ground.

The inhabitants, even in the present reduced state of the country, raise a good deal of rice and tobacco, though the cultivation ought to be much more extensive, if we consider the wide expanse of the low swampy ground which is reached by the inundation. The river, indeed, is at such a distance, that it is not seen at all, being hidden behind the sandy downs which form its inner bank. But it is remarkable that the nutritious grass, the býrgu, which I have so repeatedly mentioned, was almost wanting here, and the cattle of the village were obliged to be driven to a great distance, so that, notwithstanding the richness of the pasture-grounds in general, I was in want of milk.

We remained here the following day, and after a very cold morning, which seemed rather remarkable in the month of May, I took a walk up the gradually rising downs, which partly consisted of sand and gravel, partly exhibited a more stony character, and, contrasted with the wide green valley of the river, presented a bleak desert scenery with undulating ground towards the north, clad with nothing but isolated tufts of dry herbage. From the higher ground I had an interesting view over the whole village, situated in the midst of swampy creeks and bordered on each side by a solitary tree. I counted from this point about 350 huts.

On returning from my walk to our encampment, I found a great number of the inhabitants of the place assembled, and, after they had paid their compliments to the Sheikh, anxiously looking out for the stranger in order to obtain his blessing also. But I did not find them sufficiently interesting to have much intercourse with them, for they have very little of that noble independent carriage which distinguishes, in such an eminent degree, their south-eastern countrymen; and their stature, as well as their features, seemed to indicate plainly a very strong intermixture with Mósi slaves. It is not improbable, that the whole indigenous population of this northern bank of the Niger originally belonged to the race of the Tombo. Most of these people wore closely fitting white shirts and trowsers, both made of a broad kind of cotton strip, or tári, of very coarse texture, while their head is generally encircled with a very rugged and poor turban, if we may so call it, of the same material; only a few of them being dressed in a more decent style. They had a good deal of butter, but dared not sell it, through fear of the Tawárek. I was not a little surprised at the large species of geese which they were breeding.

Tuesday, May 23rd.We started in the cool of the morning, keeping close to the border of the swampy creek, which gradually becomes narrower, while the principal trunk of the river approaches. After a march of about a mile and a half, we receded a little into the desert, which exhibited an immense number of footprints of the giraffe, generally three or four together. Here the vegetation was rather scanty, the ground in general being covered with nothing but low bushes; but, after we had approached a small ridge of sandy downs, we crossed a hollow, which, being the dried up ground of a pond, or dhaye, was surrounded with dúm-bush and tobacco-grounds.

We had been joined some time previously by a chief of the Kél-antsár, who invited us to spend the hot hours of the day with him. We therefore halted at an early hour by the side of his encampment, which was situated on a promontory close beyond the rich vale whence the district was called “eráshar;” Kírtebe and Tárashít we had left on one side. The people slaughtered a whole ox, and sent us a great many dishes of rice and sour milk. The whole tribe of the Kél-antsár is rather numerous, numbering upwards of 1000 full-grown men, but they are scattered over a wide extent of country, reaching from Gógó to Rás el má, and even into the interior of Tagánet, the district between Timbúktu and Ázawád. We had intended to pitch our tent here, but we found the ground so extremely dry and hard that it would not hold the pegs.

Soon after starting in the afternoon, on descending from the eminence we had a fine view of the river, two branches of which united behind an island. But the scenery soon changed, and, leaving the river at some distance, proceeding first over sandy ground, and then crossing a large backwater which was at present tolerably dry, and following a large herd of cattle that were returning from their pasture grounds, we reached another considerable ámazágh of the Kél-antsár, and encamped between them and the green swampy shore of the river. The place is called Zár-ho; but in the river lies the island of Kúrkozáy, which has obtained a kind of celebrity on account of a sanguinary battle which was fought there thirty-five years previous to the time of my visit, between the Tawárek on the one side, and the Songhay and Ermá or Rumá on the other. The people here seemed to be very rich in cattle, and supplied us with an enormous quantity of fresh milk.

Wednesday, May 24th.While we were loading our camels, the sky was overcast with thick clouds, and heavy rain evidently fell in Áribínda, while with us the strong wind prevented the clouds from discharging their contents. I have repeatedly remarked upon the quantity of rain that falls on the southern side of the river compared with the northern. Dry as the country here appeared to be, we this day became more than ever entangled among the numerous backwaters which make the passage along the river so difficult, although they afford the richest pasturage to the cattle. The fault was that of our guide, who directed our course too far south from east, till, on becoming aware of our error, we had to cross two very considerable grassy creeks, the first having three and a half feet of water, and the last being still deeper. The tall rank grass of the býrgu entangled the feet of the horses, and caused them to fall, to the great discomfiture of their riders.

Having at length succeeded in crossing this double creek, we had still to traverse another grassy inlet, joining it from the north side, after which, all these swampy low lands uniting together, formed a very extensive fáddama, at the broadest part about two or three miles wide, the whole surface of the water being covered with water-lilies (Nymphæa Lotus). Beyond this extensive backwater, on a grassy island of the river, lies the hamlet Tabálit, and at a short distance from it another ádabay, of the name of Ábaten. Here the extensive backwaters after a little while cease, and allow the river itself to approach the sandy downs, which in this spot rise to a considerable height. They thus afforded myself and the Sheikh’s nephew a fine view over the river, which here forms a “large island,” designated by this very name, “autel-makkóren,” or “imakkóren;” it often forms the camping-ground for Tawárek tribes. The sandy downs, however, soon gave way to swampy backwaters, the indented outline of which gave to our march a very indistinct direction, and formed a remarkable contrast to the dreary rising-ground on our left. The difficulties, however, after a while became more serious than ever, for we suddenly found ourselves on a narrow dyke, destined to keep back the water for the cultivation of rice, situated in the midst of a swamp. For the people of Timbúktu, who were brought up in the swampy grounds, were not aware of any difficulty until we approached the opposite shore, when we found that the dyke was intersected by a narrow channel, over which it was dangerous to leap our horses; and although my own horse accomplished the feat with success, many of the others refused to do so, so that most of the people preferred making their way through the swamp. As for myself, it was highly interesting to me, thus to become aware of all the various features of this whole formation, although for the sake of comfort we ought to have kept further inland.

When we at length left this swampy ground behind us, everything bore testimony to the fact, that we were approaching another little centre of life in this neglected tract, which, from a certain degree of civilisation, has almost relapsed into a state of total barbarism. Dykes made for the cultivation of rice, and places where the býrgu, the rank grass of the river, was passed through a slight fire in order to obtain honey from the stalks thus deprived of the small leaves, were succeeded by small fields of tobacco and wheat. Nay, even barley was seen, an almost unheard of article in the whole of these regions. Meanwhile, the deep channels made for irrigating these grounds showed a degree of industry which I had not seen for a long time. At present, of course, they were dry, the stubble of the wheat and barley alone remaining in the fields, irrigation being employed only during the highest state of the river, when the water closely approaches these grounds.

Here, where an open branch of the river was seen dividing into two smaller arms, we obtained a view of the town of Bamba, or rather of its date-palms, which waved their feathery foliage over a sandy promontory. However, the sky was by no means clear. Soon we reached this spot, and I was highly delighted at seeing again some fine specimens of the date-palm, having scarcely beheld a single one since leaving Kanó. The trees on the western side of the village are formed into groups, and in their neglected state, with the old dry leaves hanging down from under the fresh ones, formed a very picturesque spectacle. On the east side, also, where we were encamped, close to a magnificent tamarind, were two tall slender specimens of this majestic tree; but altogether there were scarcely more than forty full-grown date-palms. They are said to furnish a good kind of fruit, but, not having tasted them myself, I cannot give an opinion as to their quality.

The village, at present, consists of about two hundred huts, built of mattings, and oval-shaped; for, besides a small mosque, there are only two or three clay buildings, or rather magazines, one of which belongs to Bábá Áhmed, a younger brother of the Sheikh El Bakáy, who generally resides here; at present, however, he was absent.

Such is the condition of this place at present; but there cannot be any doubt that it was of much more importance three centuries ago, as it is repeatedly mentioned in the history of Songhay; and its situation—at a point where the river, from having been spread at least during a great part of the year over a surface of several miles, is shut in by steep banks and compressed at the narrowest point to from 600 to 700 yards—must have been of the highest importance, at a time when the whole of the region along this large navigable river was comprised under the rule of a mighty kingdom of great extent, and even afterwards, when it had become a province of Morocco.

This was evidently the reason why the place was fortified at that time, and probably it had formerly a strong fortress, constantly occupied by a garrison, which accounts for the Tawárek, even at the present day, calling the whole place by the name of Kásba. It also serves to explain the fact, that the whole population of the village, even at the present time, consists of Rumá, the progeny of the musketeers who conquered this province for the Emperor of Morocco. But, while in former times they were the ruling race, at present they drag on a rather miserable existence, the protection of the Kunta being scarcely sufficient to defend them against the daily contributions levied upon them by the overbearing rulers of the desert. A short time previously the chief Sadáktu had driven away almost all their cattle.

While awaiting the camels, I sat down on a cliff overhanging the steep bank, which here was about twenty-five feet in height, and enjoyed the splendid view over that great watery highroad of West-Central Africa. The waves of the river were raised by a strong wind, and offered considerable resistance to some light boats endeavouring to reach the opposite shore. My companions soon observed the interest which I took in the scene, and my amiable friend, the Sheikh’s nephew, joined me here to enjoy the pleasant prospect. He was glad to find that, since we were fairly proceeding on our journey, my mind had become far easier and more cheerful. He often spoke with me about my happy return to my native country; and I expressed to him the wish that he might accompany me, and witness for himself some of the achievements of Europeans. He had been to this place several times before, and had always taken great interest in the difference in the nature of the river, which, from spreading out over flat swampy shores with numerous backwaters, with a few exceptions, here becomes compressed between high banks; and he again repeated to me his account of the great narrowing of the river at Tósaye, where a stone might easily be thrown from one bank to the other, while at the same time the river was so deep, that a line made from the narrow strips of a whole bullock’s skin was not sufficient to reach the bottom.

While thus cheerfully enjoying the interesting scenery, we were joined by several Rumá inhabitants of the village, who rather disturbed our silent contemplation. But their own character was not wholly uninteresting; for several of them were distinguished from the common Songhay people by the glossy lustre and the lighter hue of their skin; their features also were more regular, and their eyes more expressive. All of them wore, as an outward token of their descent, a red bandage about two inches wide over the shawl which covered the upper part of their face, and a leathern belt hanging loose over the right shoulder, ready to be fastened round the waist at the first signal of danger. Several of them were also distinguished by their better style of dress, which betokened a greater degree of cleanliness and comfort. As for smoking, all the inhabitants along the shores of this great river seemed to be equally fond of it. The pipe is scarcely ever out of their mouth. While smoking, they keep their mouth covered, after the fashion which they have learnt from the Tawárek. The head of the pipe sticks out from below the shawl.

At length the camels arrived. They had been called back by mistake from the upper road which they were pursuing, into the difficult swampy ground which we ourselves had traversed. A large comfortable dwelling of matting, or “búge,” as it is called, was erected on the sandhills, for the Sheikh and his companions; but I had my tent pitched near the fine group of date palms, and from this point I made the subjoined sketch, which will impart to the reader a tolerably correct idea of the place.