DANGEROUS APPROACH TO ASBEN.
_Friday, August 9._—There had been much talk about our starting at
midnight; but, fortunately, we did not get off before daylight, so that
I was able to continue my exact observations of the route, which was now
to cross the defile observed yesterday afternoon, which already began
to impart quite a characteristic aspect to the country. There were some
beautifully shaped cones rising around it, while beyond them an uneven
tract stretched out, crowded with small elevations, which gradually rose
to greater height; among them one peak, of very considerable elevation,
was distinguished by its graceful form, and seemed worthy of a sketch.
Attached to it was a lower rocky range, with a very marked horizontal
crest, while running parallel to our path were small ledges of gneiss.
After a march of seven miles and a half, we ascended a considerable
range of rugged eminences, from the crest of which we followed a steep
descent into an uneven rocky tract intersected by several shallow beds
of torrents; and then, just as the heat began, we reached the valley of
Arókam, where we encamped at about half an hour’s distance from the well,
and opposite to a branch wady through which lay our next day’s route. In
the afternoon I climbed the highest of the cones rising above the cliffs,
but without obtaining any distant prospect.
_Saturday, August 10._—The active buzu Amankay, who early in the morning
went once more to the well in order to fill a few water-skins, brought
the news that a considerable caravan, consisting chiefly of Aníslimen or
Merabetín from Tintaghodé, had arrived at the well the evening before,
on their road to Ghát, and that they protested against our visiting
their country, and still more against our approaching their town.
Notwithstanding the bad disposition of these people towards us, I managed
to induce one of them, who visited our encampment, to take charge of
letters addressed by me to Háj Ibrahim, in Ghát, which I am glad to say
arrived safely in Europe. Amankay reported to us that on his way to the
well he had observed a small palm-tree.
[Illustration]
We started rather late in the morning, entering the branch wady,
which proved to be far more considerable than it seemed, and rich in
talha-trees. In this way we kept winding along several valleys, till,
after a march of three miles, we ascended and crossed a very interesting
defile, or a slip in the line of elevation, bordered on both sides by a
terraced and indented slope, the highest peaks of the ridge rising to not
less than a thousand feet, while their general elevation was about six
hundred feet. Mr. Overweg recognized this as gneiss. Close beyond this
defile, at the foot of mounds of disintegrated granite, we encamped, to
our great astonishment, a little after eight o’clock in the morning; but
the reason of this short march was that our companions, on account of
the arrival of the caravan above mentioned, did not choose to stop at
our former encampment, else they would have rested there to-day. In the
afternoon a high wind arose, which upset our tent.
_Sunday, August 11._—After a march of little more than two miles over
an irregular tract of granite, in a state of great disintegration,
intersected by crests of gneiss, we obtained from a higher level an
interesting view over the whole region, and saw that beyond the hilly
ground of broken granite a large plain of firm gravelly soil spread out,
surrounded by a circle of higher mounts. Then followed a succession of
flat, shallow valleys, overgrown with sebót- and talha-trees, till the
ridges on the right and left (the latter rising to about eight hundred
feet) approached each other, forming a sort of wider passage or defile.
The spur of the range to the left, with its strongly marked and indented
crest, formed quite an interesting feature.
[Illustration]
Beyond this passage we entered a bare gravelly plain, from which rose
a few detached mounts, followed by more continuous ranges, forming
more or less regular valleys. The most remarkable of these is the
valley Aséttere, which in its upper course, where it is called Ákafa,
is supplied by the famous well Tajétterat; but as we were sufficiently
supplied with water from Arókam, and as the well Aïsalen was near, we
left it on one side.
We encamped at length in a valley joined by several branch vales, and
therefore affording a good supply of herbage, which the Kél-owí were
anxious to collect as a supply for the journey over the entirely bare
tract to Asïu. As for ourselves, one of our servants being utterly unfit
for work, we could not lay in a supply. We had been rather unfortunate
with this fellow; for having hired him in Múrzuk, he was laid up with the
guinea-worm from the very day that we left Ghát, and was scarcely of any
use at all. This disease is extremely frequent among people travelling
along this route; Amankay also was suffering from it, and at times became
quite a burden. It attacked James Bruce even after his return to Europe;
and I always dreaded it more than any other disease, during my travels in
Central Africa; but, fortunately, by getting a less serious one, which I
may call sore legs, I got rid of the causes which, I am sure, when acting
in a stronger degree, produce the vena.
About sunset I ascended the eastern cliffs, which are very considerable,
and from the highest peak, which rose to an elevation of more than twelve
hundred feet above the bottom of the valley, obtained an extensive view.
The whole formation consists of granite, and its kindred forms of mica,
quartz, and felspar. The bottom of the valley bore evident traces of
a small torrent which seems to refresh the soil occasionally, and the
same was the case with several small ravines which descend from the
south-eastern cliffs.
_Monday, August 12._—Our route followed the windings of the valley,
which, further on, exhibited more ethel- than talha-trees, besides
detached specimens of the _Asclepias_. After a march of four miles and
a half, we came to two wells about four feet deep, and took in a small
supply of water. The granite formation at the foot of the cliffs on
our left was most beautiful, looking very like syenite. While we were
taking in the water, flocks of wildfowl (_Pterocles_) were flying over
our heads, and expressed by repeated cries their dissatisfaction at our
disturbing their solitary retreat. The ethel, the talha, and the áddwa,
or abórak, enliven these secluded valleys.
[Illustration]
Delighted by the report of Amankay, who came to meet us, that he had
succeeded in detaining the caravan of the Tinýlkum at Aïsala, where they
were waiting for us, we cheerfully continued our march; but before we
reached the place the whole character of the country changed, the cliffs
being craggy and split into huge blocks heaped upon each other in a truly
Cyclopean style, such as only Nature can execute, while the entire hollow
was covered with granite masses, scarcely allowing a passage. Descending
these, we got sight of the encampment of the caravan, in a widening of
the hollow; and after paying our compliments to all the members of this
motley band, we encamped a little beyond, in a recess of the western
cliffs.
The Tinýlkum as well as Bóro Serki-n-turáwa were very scantily provided.
They had lost so much time on the road on our account that it was
necessary, as well as just, to leave them part of the provisions which
they were carrying for us. All our luggage we found in the best state.
Very much against their will, our companions had been supplied on the
road with the flesh of nine camels, which had succumbed to the fatigues
of the march; and some of them, and especially our energetic friend Háj
ʿOmar, had obtained a tolerable supply by hunting: besides wadáns, they
had killed also several gazelles, though we had scarcely seen any.
They had been lingering in this place four days, and were most anxious
to go on. But we had a great deal to do, for all our luggage was to be
repacked, all the water-skins to be filled, and herbage and wood to
be collected for the road. Besides Ibrahim, who was lame and useless,
Overweg and myself had only two servants, one of whom (Mohammed, the
liberated Tunisian slave) was at times a most insolent rascal.
Besides, we were pestered by the Kél-owí and by Utaeti, and I got into a
violent dispute with Fárreji, the shameless freed-slave of Lusu; still
I managed on the morning of the following day to rove about a little.
Just above the well rises a confused mass of large granite blocks, the
lowest range of which was covered with Tefínagh inscriptions, one of
which I copied. It was written with uncommon accuracy and neatness, and
if found near the coast would be generally taken for Punic. I was obliged
to be cautious, as there was a great deal of excitement and irritation in
the caravan, and from what had previously taken place all the way from
Múrzuk, everybody regarded us as the general purveyors, and cherished the
ardent hope that at last it would be his good fortune, individually, to
get possession of our property.
[Illustration]
In the afternoon the Tinýlkum started in advance, and we followed them,
the hollow gradually widening and becoming clothed with large knots of
low ethel-bushes. At the point where this valley joins another, and where
a large quantity of herbage bedecked the ground, we found our friends
encamped, and chose our ground a little beyond them, near a low cliff
of granite rocks. All the people were busily employed cutting herbage
for the journey, while Mr. Richardson at length succeeded in satisfying
Utaeti, who was to return. He had been begging most importunately from
me, and by way of acknowledging my obligations to him I presented him,
on parting, with a piece of white muslin and a red sash, together with
something for Hatíta.
These parties were scarcely quieted when others took their place, urging
their pretensions to our acknowledgments; and we had just started the
next day when Bóro Serki-n-turáwa despatched, underhand, my smart friend
the Tawáti ʿAbd el Káder, with full instructions to give me a lecture
on his boundless power and influence in the country which we were fast
approaching. I was aware of this before, and knew that, in our situation
as unprotected travellers in a new country, we ought to have secured his
friendly disposition from the beginning; but the means of our expedition
being rather limited, Mr. Richardson had made it a principle never to
give till compelled by the utmost necessity, when the friendly obligation
connected with the present was, if not destroyed, at least greatly
diminished.
The structure of the valley soon became irregular, and the character of
the country more desolate, a circumstance which seems to be expressed
by its name, Ikadémmelrang. All was granite, in a state of the utmost
disintegration, and partly reduced to gravel, while detached cones were
rising in all directions. Marching along over this dreary and desolate
country, we reached, at half-past two in the afternoon, after a gradual
and almost imperceptible ascent, the highest level of the desert plain,
from whence the isolated rocky cones and ridges look like so many islands
rising from the sea. A sketch which I made of one of these mounts will
give an idea of their character.
After a march of twelve hours and a half, which I would have gladly
doubled, provided our steps had been directed in a straight line towards
the longed-for regions of Negroland, we encamped on hard ground, so
that we had great difficulty in fixing the pegs of our tents. The sky
was overcast with thick clouds, but our hopes in a refreshing rain were
disappointed.
_Thursday, August 15._—The character of the country continued the same,
though the weather was so foggy that the heights at some distance
were quite enveloped, and became entirely invisible. This was a sure
indication of our approaching tropical climes. After a march of three
miles and a half, the ground became more rugged for a short time, but was
soon succeeded by a gravelly plain. The sky had become thickly clouded,
and in the afternoon a high wind arose, succeeded, about two o’clock, by
heavy rain, and by distant thunder, while the atmosphere was exceedingly
heavy, and made us all feel drowsy.
[Illustration]
It was three o’clock when we arrived at the Marárraba, the “halfway”
between Ghát and Aïr, a place regarded with a kind of religious awe
by the natives, who in passing place each a stone upon the mighty
granite blocks which mark the spot. To our left we had irregular rocky
ground, with a few elevations rising to greater height, and ahead a
very remarkable granite crest, sometimes rising, at others descending,
with its slopes enveloped in sand up to the very top. This ridge, which
is called Giféngwetáng, and which looks very much like an artificial
wall erected between the dry desert and the more favoured region of
the tropics, we crossed further on through an opening like a saddle,
and among sand-hills where the slaves of our companions ran about to
pick up and collect the few tufts of herbage that were scattered over
the surface, in order to furnish a fresh mouthful to the poor wearied
animals. At four o’clock the sand-hills ceased, and were succeeded by a
wide pebbly plain, on which, after six miles travelling, we encamped.
Our encampment was by no means a quiet one, and to any one who paid
due attention to the character and disposition of the people serious
indications of a storm, which was gathering over us, became visible.
Mohammed Bóro, who had so often given vent to his feelings of revenge
for the neglect with which he had been treated, was all fire and fury,
and stirring up the whole encampment, he summoned all the people to a
council, having, as he said, received intelligence that a large party of
Hogár were coming to Asïu. Not having paid much attention to the report
about Sídi Jáfel’s expedition, I became anxious when made aware of the
man’s fury, for I knew the motives which actuated him.
_Friday, August 16._—We started early. Gravelly and pebbly grounds
succeeded each other, the principal formation being granite; but when,
after a march of about thirteen miles, we passed the narrow sandy spur
of a considerable ridge approaching our left, a fine species of white
marble became visible. We then passed a rugged district, of peculiar and
desolate appearance, called Ibéllakang, and crossed a ridge of gneiss
covered with gravel. Here, while a thunder-storm was rising in the
east, our caravan, to our great regret, divided, the Tinylkum turning
off towards the east, in order, as we were told, to look for a little
herbage among the sand-hills. Meanwhile thick, heavy clouds, which had
been discharging a great quantity of rain towards the east, broke over
us at a quarter past four o’clock in the afternoon, when we were just in
the act of crossing another rocky crest covered with gravel. A violent
sand-storm, followed by heavy rain, which was driven along by a furious
gale, soon threw the caravan into the utmost confusion, and made all
observation impossible; but fortunately it did not last long. It was on
descending from this crest, while the weather cleared up, that the Háusa
slaves, with a feeling of pride and joy, pointed out in the far distance
“dútsi-n-Absen” (Mount Absen). Here the granite formation had been
gradually succeeded by sandstone and slate. This district, indeed, seems
to be the line of demarcation between two different zones.
At twenty minutes past six o’clock we at length encamped, but were again
in the saddle at eleven o’clock at night, and in pale moonlight, sleepy
and worn out as we were, began a dreadful night’s march. But altogether
it proved to be a wise measure taken by the Kél-owí, who had reason to be
afraid lest the Hogár, of whom they appeared to have trustworthy news,
might overtake us before we reached the wells of Asïu, and then treat us
as they pleased. Our companions, who were of course themselves not quite
insensible to fatigue, as night advanced, became very uncertain in their
direction, and kept much too far to the south. When day dawned our road
lay over a flat, rocky, sandstone surface, while we passed on our left a
locality remarkable for nothing but its name, Efínagha. We then descended
from the rocky ground into the extremely shallow valley of Asïu,
overgrown with scanty herbage of a kind not much liked by the camels.
Here we encamped, near a group of four wells, which still belong to the
Azkár, while a little further on there are others which the Kél-owí
regard as their own property. How it was that we did not encamp near the
latter I cannot say. But the people were glad to have got so far. The
wells, or at least two of them, afforded an abundant supply of water;
but it was not of a good quality, and had a peculiar taste, I think on
account of the iron ore with which it was impregnated.
This, then, was Asïu, a place important for the caravan trade at all
times, on account of the routes from Ghadámes and from Tawát joining
here, and which did so even as far back as the time when the famous
traveller Ebn Batúta returned from his enterprising journey to Sudán
homewards by way of Tawát (in the year 1353-4). Desolate and melancholy
as it appeared, it was also an important station to us, as we thought
that we had now left the most difficult part of the journey behind us.
For though I myself had some forebodings of a danger threatening us,
we had no idea that the difficulties which we should have to encounter
were incomparably greater than those which we had passed through. Mr.
Richardson supposed that because we had reached the imaginary frontier
of the territories of the Azkár and Kél-owí, we were beyond the reach
of any attack from the north. With the utmost obstinacy he reprobated
as absurd any supposition that such a frontier might be easily crossed
by nomadic roving tribes, asserting that these frontiers in the desert
were respected much more scrupulously than any frontier of Austria,
notwithstanding the innumerable host of its land-waiters. But he was soon
to be undeceived on all the points of his desert diplomacy, at his own
expense and that of us all.
There was very little attraction for roving about in this broad gravelly
plain. Now and then a group of granite blocks interrupted the monotonous
level, bordered on the north by a gradually ascending rocky ground, while
the southern border rose to a somewhat higher elevation.
Desolate as the spot was, and gloomy as were our prospects, the arrival
of the Tinýlkum in the course of the afternoon afforded a very cheerful
sight, and inspired some confidence, as we felt that our little party
had once more resumed its strength. All the people, however, displayed
an outward show of tranquillity and security, with the exception
of Serki-n-turáwa, who was bustling about in a state of the utmost
excitement. Watering the camels and filling the water-skins employed the
whole day.
_Sunday, August 18._—After a two hours’ march we began to ascend, first
gradually, then more steeply, all the rocks hereabouts, consisting of
slate, greatly split and rent, and covered with sand. In twenty-five
minutes we reached the higher level, which consisted of pebbly ground,
with a ridge running, at the distance of about four miles, to the west.
While we were quietly pursuing our road, with the Kél-owí in the van, the
Tinýlkum marching in the rear, suddenly Mohammed the Sfaksi came running
behind us, swinging his musket over his head, and crying lustily, “He
awelád, awelád bú, ʿadúna já!” (“Lads, lads, our enemy has come!”), and
spreading the utmost alarm through the whole of the caravan. Everybody
seized his arms, whether musket, spear, sword, or bow, and whosoever
was riding jumped down from his camel. Some time elapsed before it was
possible, amid the noise and uproar, to learn the cause of the alarm. At
length it transpired. A man named Mohammed, belonging to the caravan,
having remained a little behind at the well, had observed three Tuarek,
mounted on mehára, approaching at a rapid rate; and while he himself
followed the caravan, he left his slave behind to see whether others
were in the rear. The slave, after a while, overtook him, with the news
that several more camels had become visible in the distance; and then
Mohammed and his slave hurried on to bring us the intelligence. Even Mr.
Richardson, who, being rather hard of hearing, judged of our situation
only from the alarm, descended from his slender little she-camel and
cocked his pistols. A warlike spirit seemed to have taken possession of
the whole caravan, and I am persuaded that had we been attacked at this
moment, all would have fought valiantly. But such is not the custom of
freebooting parties; they will cling artfully to a caravan, and first
introduce themselves in a tranquil and peaceable way, till they have
succeeded in disturbing the little unity which exists in such a troop,
composed as it is of the most different elements; they then gradually
throw off the mask, and in general attain their object.
When at length a little tranquillity had been restored, and plenty of
powder and shot had been distributed among those armed with firelocks,
the opinion began to prevail that, even if the whole of the report should
be true, it was not probable that we should be attacked by daylight. We
therefore continued our march with a greater feeling of security, while a
body of archers was despatched to learn the news of a small caravan which
was coming from Sudán, and marching at some distance from us, behind a
low ridge of rocks. They were a few Tébu, with ten camels and between
thirty and forty slaves, unconsciously going to meet a terrible fate;
for we afterwards learned that the Imghád of the Hogár, or rather the
Hadánara, disappointed at our having passed through their country without
their getting anything from us, had attacked this little troop, murdering
the Tébu, and carrying off their camels and slaves.
While the caravan was going slowly on, I was enabled to allow my méheri
a little feeding on the nesí (_Panicum grossularium_, much liked by
camels), in a spot called Tahasása. At noon we began to ascend on rocky
ground, and, after a very gradual ascent of three miles, reached the
higher level, strewn with pebbles, but exhibiting further on a rugged
slaty soil, till we reached the valley Fénorang. This valley, which is
a little less than a mile in breadth and two in length, is famous for
its rich supply of herbage, principally of the kind called bú rékkebah,
and the far-famed el hád (the camel’s dainty), and is on this account an
important halting-place for the caravans coming from the north, after
having traversed that naked part of the desert, which produces scarcely
any food for the camel. Notwithstanding, therefore, the danger which
threatened us, it was determined to remain here not only this, but also
the following day.
As soon as the loads were taken off their backs, the half-starved camels
fell to devouring eagerly the fine herbage offered them. Meanwhile we
encamped as close together as possible, preparing ourselves for the
worst, and looking anxiously around in every direction. But nobody was
to be seen till the evening, when the three men on their mehára made
their appearance, and, being allowed to approach the caravan, made no
secret of the fact that a greater number were behind them.
Aware of what might happen, our small troop had all their arms ready,
in order to repulse any attack; but the Kél-owí and the few Azkár who
were in our caravan kept us back, and, after a little talk, allowed
the visitors to lie down for the night near our encampment, and even
solicited our hospitality in their behalf. Nevertheless, all of them
well knew that the strangers were freebooters, who could not but have
bad designs against us; and the experienced old Awed el Khér, the sheikh
of the Káfila, came expressly to us, warning and begging us to be on
our guard, while Bóro Serki-n-turáwa began to play a conspicuous part,
addressing the Kél-owí and Tinýlkum in a formal speech, and exhorting
them to stand by us. Everybody was crying for powder, and nobody could
get enough. Our clever but occasionally very troublesome servant Mohammed
conceived a strategical plan, placing on the north side of the two tents
the four pieces of the boat, behind each of which one of us had to take
his station in case of an attack.
Having had some experience of freebooters’ practices in my former
wanderings, I knew that all this was mere farce and mockery, and that the
only way of ensuring our safety would have been to prevent these scouts
from approaching us at all. We kept watch the whole night; and of course
the strangers, seeing us well on our guard, and the whole caravan still
in high spirits and in unity, ventured upon nothing.
_Monday, August 19._—In the morning our three guests (who, as I made
out, did not belong to the Azkár, but were Kél-fadé from the northern
districts of Aïr) went slowly away, but only to join their companions,
who had kept at some distance beyond the rocky ridge which bordered or,
rather, interrupted the valley to the westward. There some individuals
of the caravan, who went to cut herbage, found the fresh traces of nine
camels. In spite of outward tranquillity, there was much matter for
anxiety and much restlessness in the caravan, and suddenly an alarm was
given that the camels had been stolen, but fortunately it proved to be
unfounded. ʿAbd el Káder, the Tawáti of whom I have spoken above, trying
to take advantage of this state of things, came to Mr. Overweg, and
urgently pressed him to deposit everything of value with Awed el Khér,
the Kél-owí, and something, “of course,” with him also. This was truly
very disinterested advice; for if anything had happened to us, they
would of course have become our heirs. In the evening we had again three
guests, not, however, the same as before, but some of their companions,
who belonged to the Hadánara, one of the divisions of the Azkár.
_Tuesday, August 20._—At an early hour we started, with an uneasy
feeling. With the first dawn the true believers had been called together
to prayer, and the bond which united the Mohammedan members of the
caravan with the Christian travellers had been loosened in a very
conspicuous manner. Then the encampment broke up, and we set out—not,
however, as we had been accustomed to go latterly, every little party
starting off as soon as they were ready, but all waiting till the whole
caravan had loaded their camels, when we began our march in close order,
first along the valley, then entering upon higher ground, sometimes
gravelly, at others rocky. The range to our right, here a little more
than a mile distant, bears different names, corresponding to the more
prominent parts into which it is separated by hollows or saddles,
the last cone towards the south being called Timázkaren, a name most
probably connected with that of the Azkár tribe, while another is named
Tin-dúrdu-rang. The Tarki or Amóshagh is very expressive in names; and
whenever the meaning of all these appellations shall be brought to light,
I am sure we shall find many interesting significations. Though I paid
a good deal of attention to their language, the Tarkíyeh or Temáshight,
I had not leisure enough to become master of the more difficult and
obsolete terms; and, of course, very few even among themselves can at
present tell the exact meaning of a name derived from ancient times.
At length we had left behind us that remarkable ridge, and entering
another shallow valley full of young herbage, followed its windings, the
whole presenting a very irregular structure, when suddenly four men were
seen ahead of us on an eminence, and instantly a troop of lightly armed
people, amongst them three archers, were despatched, as it seemed, in
order to reconnoitre, marching in regular order straight for the eminence.
Being in the first line of our caravan, and not feeling so sure on the
camel as on foot, I dismounted, and marched forward, leading my méheri
by the nose-cord, and with my eyes fixed upon the scene before us. But
how much was I surprised when I saw two of the four unknown individuals
executing a wild sort of armed dance together with the Kél-owí, while the
others were sitting quietly on the ground! Much perplexed, I continued
to move slowly on, when two of the men who had danced suddenly rushed
upon me, and grasping the rope of my camel, asked for tribute. Quite
unprepared for such a scene under such circumstances, I grasped my
pistol, when, just at the right time, I learnt the reason and character
of this curious proceeding.
The little eminence on the top of which we had observed the people, and
at the foot of which the armed dance was performed, is an important
locality in the modern history of the country which we had reached. For
here it was that when the Kél-owí (at that time an unmixed and pure
Berber tribe, as it seems) took possession of the country of Old Góber,
with its capital, Tin-shamán, a compromise or covenant was entered into
between the red conquerors and the black natives, that the latter should
not be destroyed, and that the principal chief of the Kel-owí should only
be allowed to marry a black woman. And as a memorial of this transaction,
the custom has been preserved that when caravans pass the spot where the
covenant was entered into, near the little rock Máket-n-ikelán, “the
slaves” shall be merry and be authorized to levy upon their masters a
small tribute. The black man who stopped me was the “serki-n-baï” (the
principal or chief of the slaves).
These poor, merry creatures, while the caravan was proceeding on its
march, executed another dance; and the whole would have been an incident
of the utmost interest, if our minds and those of all the well-disposed
members of the caravan had not been greatly oppressed and vexed with
sad forebodings of mishap. The fear was so great that the amiable and
sociable Slimán (one of the Tinýlkum, who at a later period manifested
his sympathy with us in our misfortunes) begged me most urgently to keep
more in the middle of the caravan, as he was afraid that one of those
ruffians might suddenly rush upon me, and pierce me with his spear.
The soil hereabouts consisted entirely of bare gravel; but farther on
it became more uneven, and broken by granite rocks, in the cavities
among which our people found some rain-water. The tract on our right was
called Tisgáwade, while the heights on our left bore the name Tin-ébbeke.
I here rode awhile by the side of Émeli, a Tarki of the tribe of the
Azkár, a gentleman both in his dress and manners, who never descended
from the back of his camel. Although he appeared not to be very hostile
to the robbers on our track, and was certainly aware of their intention,
I liked him on account of his distinguished manners, and, under more
favourable circumstances, should have been able to obtain a great deal
of information from him. But there was with him a rather disagreeable
and malicious fellow named Mohammed (or, as the Tuarek pronounce it,
Mokhammed), from Yánet or Jánet, who, in the course of the difficulties
which befell us, did us a great deal of mischief, and was fully disposed
to do us much more.
The country, which in the meantime had become more open, after a while
became bordered ahead by elevations in the form of a semicircle, while
we began to ascend. The weather had been extremely sultry and close the
whole day, and at last, about three o’clock in the afternoon, the storm
broke out, but with less violence than on the day before our arrival
at Asïu. We encamped at length on an open gravelly plain, surrounded
by ridges of rocks, without pitching our tents; for our unwished-for
guests had in the face of the Tinýlkum openly declared that their design
was to kill us, but that they wanted first to get more assistance.
Notwithstanding this, Mr. Richardson even to-night was obliged to feed
these ruffians; such is the weakness of a caravan—although in our case
the difference of religion, and consequent want of unity, could not but
greatly contribute to paralyze its strength. I here heard that some of
the party were Imghád, from Tádomat. Under such circumstances, and in
such a state of feeling, it was impossible to enjoy the sport and frolics
of the slaves (that is, of the domestic slaves) of the Kél-owí, who with
wild gestures and cries were running about the encampment to exact from
all the free individuals of the caravan their little Máket-n-ikelán
tribute, receiving from one a small quantity of dates, from another a
piece of muslin or a knife, from another a shirt. Everybody was obliged
to give something, however small. Notwithstanding our long day’s march,
Overweg and I found it necessary to be on the watch the whole night.
_Wednesday, August 21._—Starting at an early hour, we ascended very
rugged ground, the rocky ridges on both sides often meeting together
and forming irregular defiles. After a march of five miles and a half,
we reached the highest elevation, and obtained a view over the whole
district, which, being sprinkled, as it were, with small granitic
mounds, had a very desolate appearance; but in the distance to our left
an interesting mountain group was to be seen, of which the accompanying
sketch will give some idea.
Having crossed several small valleys, we reached, a little before ten
o’clock, one of considerable breadth, richly overgrown with herbage, and
exhibiting evident traces of a violent torrent which had swept over it
the day before, while with us but little rain had fallen. It is called
Jínninau, and improved as we advanced, our path sometimes keeping along
it, sometimes receding to a little distance; in some places the growth of
the trees, principally the _Balanites_ or abórak, was indeed splendid and
luxuriant. Unfortunately we had not sufficient leisure and mental ease to
collect all the information which, under more favourable circumstances,
would have been within our reach. Thus, I learnt that magnetic ironstone
was found in the mountains to our left. After noon the valley divided
into three branches, the easternmost of which is the finest and richest
in vegetation, while the western one, called Tiyút, has likewise a fine
supply of trees and herbage; we took the middle one, and a little further
on, where it grew narrower, encamped.
[Illustration]
It was a very pretty and picturesque camping-ground. At the foot of our
tents was a rocky bed of a deep and winding torrent, bordered by most
luxuriant talha- and abórak-trees (_Balanites Ægyptiaca_), and forming
a small pond where the water, rushing down from the rocks behind, had
collected; the fresh green of the trees, enlivened by recent rains,
formed a beautiful contrast with the dark-yellowish colour of the rocks
behind. Notwithstanding our perilous situation, I could not help straying
about, and found, on the blocks over the tebki or pond, some coarse
rock-sculptures representing oxen, asses, and a very tall animal which,
according to the Kél-owí, was intended to represent the giraffe.
While I was enjoying the scenery of the place, Dídi stepped suddenly
behind me, and tried to throw me down, but not succeeding, laid his hands
from behind upon the pistols which I wore in my belt, trying, by way of
experiment, whether I was able to use them notwithstanding his grasp; but
turning sharply round, I freed myself from his hold, and told him that
no effeminate person like himself should take me. He was a cunning and
insidious fellow, and I trusted him the least of our Kél-owí friends.
Ánnur warned us that the freebooters intended to carry off the camels
that we ourselves were riding, in the night; and it was fortunate that we
had provided for the emergency, and were able to fasten them to strong
iron rings.
While keeping the first watch during the night, I was enabled by the
splendid moonlight to address a few lines in pencil to my friends at home.
_Thursday, August 22._—The Kél-owí having had some difficulty in
finding their camels, we did not move at an early hour. To our great
astonishment, we crossed the rocky bed of the torrent, and entered an
irregular defile, where a little further on we passed another pond of
rain-water. When at length we emerged from the rocks, we reached a very
high level, whence we had a clear prospect over the country before us.
Four considerable ranges of mountains were clearly distinguishable in the
distance, forming an _ensemble_ of which the accompanying sketch will
give an idea. We then entered valleys clothed with a fine fresh verdure
sprinkled with flowers, and with a luxuriant vegetation such as we had
not seen before. The senna-plant (_Cassia senna_) appeared in tolerable
quantity. Mountains and peaks were seen all around, in a great variety of
forms; and at twenty minutes past nine we had a larger mountain mass on
one side, from which a dry watercourse, marked by a broad line of herbage
issued and crossed our route.
[Illustration]
Having here allowed our camels a little feeding, we entered upon gravelly
soil with projecting blocks of granite, and then went on ascending
through a succession of small plains and valleys, till we reached
Erazar-n-Gébi, among the splendid vegetation of which we first observed
the abísga, or _Capparis sodata_, called siwák or lirák by the Arabs,
an important bush, the currant-like fruit of which is not only eaten
fresh, but also dried, and laid up in store, while the root affords that
excellent remedy for the teeth which the Mohammedans, in imitation of
their prophet, use to a great extent. The root, moreover, at least on the
shores of the Tsád, by the process of burning, affords a substitute for
salt. It is the most characteristic bush or tree of the whole region of
transition between the desert and the fertile regions of Central Africa,
between the twentieth and the fifteenth degree of northern latitude;
and in the course of my travels I saw it nowhere of such size as on the
northern bank of the Isa or Niger, between Timbúktu and Gágho, the whole
ground which this once splendid and rich capital of the Songhay Empire
occupied being at present covered and marked out by this celebrated
bush. As for the camels, they like very well to feed for a short time
upon its fresh leaves, if they have some other herb to mix with it; but
eaten alone it soon becomes too bitter for them. In this valley the
little berries were not yet ripe; but further on they were ripening, and
afforded a slight but refreshing addition to our food.
Leaving the pleasant valley of Gébi by a small opening bordered with
large blocks of granite, while peaks of considerable elevation were
seen towering over the nearer cliffs, we entered another large valley,
called Tághajít, but not quite so rich in vegetation, and encamped here,
on an open space, a little after noon. The valley is important as being
the first in the frontier region of Aïr or Asben where there is a fixed
settlement—a small village of leathern tents, inhabited by people of the
tribe of Fade-ang, who preserve a certain independence of the Kél-owí,
while they acknowledge the supremacy of the Sultan of Ágades, a state of
things of which I shall have occasion to say more in another place.