INHABITED BUT DANGEROUS FRONTIER REGION.
The sensations of our guides and camel-drivers had been uneasy from the
very moment of our encamping; and Mr. Richardson, at the suggestion of
Ánnur, had on the preceding day sent Émeli and Mohammed in advance, in
order to bring to us the chief of Fade-ang. This person was represented
to us as a man of great authority in this lawless country, and able to
protect us against freebooting parties, which our guests of the other
day, who had gone on in advance, were sure to collect against us. But
Mohammed, as I have observed above, was a great rascal himself, who would
do all in his power to increase our difficulties, in order to profit
by the confusion. The chief was accordingly reported as being absent,
and a man who was said to be his brother was to take his place. This
person made his appearance, accompanied by some people from the village;
but it became immediately apparent that he had no authority whatever,
and one of the Imghád of Tádomat, who had stuck to us for the last two
days, in order to show us what respect he had for this man, struck him
repeatedly with his spear upon the shoulder. Among the companions of
our new protector was a Taleb of the name of Buhéda, distinguished by
his talkativeness and a certain degree of arrogance, who made himself
ridiculous by trying to convince us of his immense learning. What an
enormous difference there was between these mean-looking and degraded
half-castes and our martial pursuers, who stood close by! Though I knew
the latter could and would do us much more harm than the former, I liked
them much better.
Overweg and I had sat down in the shade of a talha-tree at a little
distance from our tent, and had soon a whole circle of visitors around
us, who in the beginning behaved with some modesty and discretion, but
gradually became rather troublesome. I gave them some small presents,
such as scissors, knives, mirrors, and needles, with which they expressed
themselves well pleased. Presently came also several women, one with the
characteristic features called in Temáshight “tebúllodén,” which may be
translated by the words of Leo, “Le parti di dietro pienissime e grasse,”
and another younger one, mounted upon a donkey. The whole character of
these people appeared very degraded. They were totally devoid of the
noble and manly appearance which the most careless observer cannot fail
to admire even in a common Tarki freebooter, and the relations between
the sexes appeared in a worse light than one would expect in such a
situation as this. However, we have ample testimony in ancient Arabian
writers that licentious manners have always prevailed among the Berber
tribes on the frontier of the desert; and we found the same habits
existing among the tribe of the Tagáma, while not only Ágades, but even
the little village of Tintéllust was not without its courtesans. This
is a very disheartening phenomenon to observe in so small a community,
and in a locality where nature would seem peculiarly favourable to
purity and simplicity of manners. The names of some of these Tághajít
beauties—Telíttifók, Tatináta, and Temétilé—are interesting for the
character of the language.
We were anxious to buy some of the famous Aïr cheese, for which we had
been longing the whole way over the dreary desert, and had kept up our
spirits with the prospect of soon indulging in this luxury; but we were
not able to procure a single one, and our endeavours to buy a sheep or a
goat were equally fruitless. Instead of the plenty which we had been led
to expect in this country, we found nothing but misery. But I was rather
surprised to find here a very fine and strong race of asses. We were
tolerably composed, and reclining at our ease (though our weapons were
always at hand), when we were a little alarmed by a demand of six riyals
for the use of the pond in Jínninau. Our amiable but unenergetic friend
Ánnur seconded the demand, by way of satisfying in some way the intruders
upon our caravan. These claims were scarcely settled when a dreadful
alarm was raised, by the report that a body of from fifty to sixty Mehára
were about to attack us. Though no good authority could be named for this
intelligence, the whole caravan was carried away by excitement, and all
called out for powder and shot. Bóro Serki-n-turáwa once more delivered
eloquent speeches, and exhorted the people to be courageous; but many
of the Tinylkum, very naturally, had a great objection to come to open
hostilities with the Tuarek, which might end in their being unable to
travel any longer along this route.
In this moment of extreme excitement Khweldi arrived, the chief merchant
of Múrzuk, whom we had not expected to see, though we knew that he was
on his way from Sudán to the north. We were in a situation wherein he
was able to render us the most material service, both by his influence
upon the individuals of whom our caravan was composed, and by his
knowledge of the country whose frontier territories we had just entered.
But unfortunately, though a very experienced merchant, he was not a
practical, sharp-sighted man; and instead of giving us clear information
as to the probable amount of truth in the reports, and what sort of
difficulties we might really have to encounter, and how by paying a
sort of passage-money to the chiefs we might get over them, he denied
in private the existence of any danger at all, while openly he went
round the whole caravan extolling our importance as a mission sent by
a powerful government, and encouraging the people to defend us if we
should be in danger. In consequence of his exhortations, the Tinýlkum
took courage, but had the imprudence and absurdity to supply also the
three intruders with powder and shot, who, though protesting to be now
our most sincere friends, of course made no other use of the present than
to supply their band with this material, which alone gave us a degree of
superiority and constituted our security.
Any one accustomed to look closely at things could not be at all
satisfied with the spirit of our caravan, notwithstanding its noise and
waste of powder, and with its entire want of union; but the scene which
followed in the bright moonlight evening, and lasted throughout the
night, was animating and interesting in the extreme. The whole caravan
was drawn up in line of battle, the left wing being formed by ourselves
and the detachment of the Kél-owí who had left their own camping-ground
and posted themselves in front of our tent, while the Tinýlkum and the
Sfaksi formed the centre, and the rest of the Kél-owí with Bóro, the
right wing, leaning upon the cliffs, our exposed left being defended by
the four pieces of the boat. About ten o’clock a small troop of Mehára
appeared, when a heavy fusillade was kept up over their heads, and firing
and shouting were continued the whole night.
Our situation remained the same the whole of the following day; and it
became very tedious, as it prevented us from making excursions, and
becoming acquainted with the features of the new country which we had
entered. Another alarm having been raised in vain, the leaders of the
expedition which was collecting against us came out, with the promise
that they would not further molest the caravan if the Christians were
given up to them. This demand having been at once rejected, we were left
in tolerable tranquillity for a while, as the freebooters now saw that in
order to obtain their object, which was plunder, they should be obliged
to bring really into the field the whole force they had so long boasted
of. Khweldi paid us another visit in the afternoon; and as he wanted
to make us believe that there was really no danger in this country, so
he did not fail to represent the state of things in Sudán as the most
favourable we could have wished for. He also sought to sweeten over any
remnant of anxiety which we might have, by a dish of very delicious dates
which he had received from his friend Háj Beshír, in Iferwán, and which
gave us a favourable idea of what the country before us was able to
produce. Altogether Khweldi endeavoured to be agreeable to everybody; and
on a later occasion, in 1854, when I was for some time without means, he
behaved towards me in a very gentlemanlike manner. In his company was a
brother of our quiet and faithful servant Mohammed, from Gatrón, who was
now returning home with his earnings.
Not being able to refrain wholly from excursions, I undertook in the
afternoon to visit the watering-place situated up a little lateral nook
of the valley, adorned with very luxuriant talha-trees, and winding in a
half-circle by south-east to north-east. First, at the distance of about
a mile, I came to a hole where some of the Tinýlkum were scooping water;
and ascending the rocky bed of the occasional torrent, I found a small
pond where the camels were drinking; but our faithful friend Músa, who
was not at all pleased with my having ventured so far, told me that the
water obtained here did not keep long, but that higher up good water was
to be found in the principal valley. I had from the beginning attentively
observed the character and proceedings of Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, and
feared nothing so much as his intrigues; and at my urgent request, Mr.
Richardson to-night made him a satisfactory present as an acknowledgment
of the courage which he had lately shown in defending our cause. Of
course the present came rather late; but it was better to give it now,
in order to avert the consequences of his intrigues as much as possible,
than not at all. Had it been given two months ago, it might have saved us
an immense deal of difficulty, danger, and heavy loss.
_Saturday, August 24._—We left at length our camping-ground in Tághajít,
and soon passed Khweldi’s encampment, which was just about to break up.
Rocky ground, overtopped by higher mountain-masses or by detached peaks,
and hollows overgrown with rich vegetation, and preserving for a longer
or shorter time the regular form of valleys, succeed by turns, and
constitute the predominant feature of the country of Asben. But instead
of the fresh green pasture which had delighted and cheered us in some of
the northern valleys, the herbage in some of those which we passed to-day
was quite dry.
Early in the afternoon we encamped in the valley Imenán, a little outside
the line of herbage and trees, on an open spot at the southern foot
of a low rocky eminence. The valley, overgrown as it was with large
talha-trees and the oat-grass called bú rékkebah, of tall, luxuriant
growth, was pleasant, and invited us to repose. But before sunset our
tranquillity was greatly disturbed by the appearance of five of our
well-known marauding companions, mounted on camels, and leading six
others. They dismounted within less than a pistol-shot from our tents,
and with wild ferocious laughter were discussing their projects with the
Azkár in our caravan.
I could scarcely suppress a laugh when several of the Tinýlkum came and
brought us the ironical assurance that there was now perfect security,
and that we might indulge in sound sleep. Others came with the less
agreeable but truer warning that we ought not to sleep that night. The
greatest alarm and excitement soon spread through the caravan. Later in
the evening, while our benevolent guests were devouring their supper,
Mohammed el Túnsi called me and Overweg aside, and informed us that we
were threatened with great danger indeed, these Hogár, as he called
them, having brought a letter from Nakhnúkhen, authorizing them to
collect people in the territory of the Kél-owí, and there to despatch us
in such a way that not even a trace of us should be found, but not to
touch us so long as we were within the confines of the Azkár.
I was convinced that this account, so far as it regarded Nakhnúkhen, was
an absurd fiction of our persecutors; and I tried to persuade our servant
to this effect. When he returned from us to the caravan, a council of war
was held, and a resolution passed, that if a number of from twenty to
thirty people came to attack us they would undertake to defend us, but if
we should be threatened by a more numerous host they would try to make
a compromise by yielding up a part of our goods. In consequence of this
resolution, all possible warlike preparations were made once more, and
Bóro delivered another speech; but it seemed rather irreconcilable with
such a state of things that while we, as well as the Tinýlkum, brought
all our camels close to our tents at an early hour, the Kél-owí left
theirs out the whole night. Perhaps, being natives of the country, they
did not expect that the freebooters would seize their animals.
Be this as it may, great anxiety arose when early in the morning it was
found that the camels were gone; and when day broke our guests of last
night, who had stolen away before midnight, were seen riding down from
the rocky ridge on the south, and with a commanding air calling the
principal men of the caravan to a council. Then followed the scenes which
Mr. Richardson has so graphically described.
I will only mention that Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, sword in hand, led us
on with great energy. He called me to keep close to him; and I think
that now (when we had atoned for the neglect with which he had been
treated by us, by assuring him that we were convinced of his high
position and influence in the country) he had the honest intention to
protect us. Of the Tinýlkum only our faithful Músa and the amiable young
Slimán adhered to us and of the other people, the Tawáti and Mohammed
eʾ Sfaksi, although the latter trembled with fear and was as pale as
death, Yusuf Mukni remained behind. Fárreji on this occasion behaved
with great courage, and bravely challenged the enemy. What frightened
the latter most were the bayonets on our guns, as they saw that, after
having received our fire, they would not yet have done with us, but
would still have a weapon to encounter at least as formidable as their
own spears. As soon as the enemy had protested that he was only come
against us as Christians, all sympathy for us ceased in the caravan. All
expected that we would become Moslemín without great difficulty; and our
servant Mohammed, when we rejected this condition as an impossibility,
immediately relapsed into his ordinary impudence, laughing in our faces
because, forsooth, we were so absurd as still to think of some other
expedient. This clever but spoiled youngster was a _protégé_ of the
British consulate in Tunis.
At length all seemed to be settled. The whole host of the enemy, besides
its rich booty, had been treated with an enormous quantity of mohamsa,
and we had repeatedly been assured that now we might be certain of
reaching the chief Ánnur’s residence without any further disturbance,
when the little Ánnur, a man of honest but mild character, came to beg
us most earnestly to be on our guard, lest behind the rocks and ridges
there might still be some persons in ambush. At length we left this
inhospitable place; but we were far from being at ease, for it was clear
that there was still a cloud on the horizon, which might easily gather to
another storm. After a short march, we encamped in a small valley without
pitching our tents. The Merábet who had accompanied and sanctioned the
expedition against us was now in our company, and that was thought to
be the best means of preventing any further molestation. This man, as
I made out afterwards, was no other than Ibrahím Aghá-batúre (the son
of Háj Beshír, a well-known and influential person settled in Ferwán,
or Iferwán), who, in consequence of these proceedings, was afterwards
punished severely by the Sultan of Ágades. With Aghá-batúre himself I met
accidentally at a later period, in 1853, near Zinder, when he was greatly
astonished to see me still alive, notwithstanding all the hardships I had
gone through. Bóro, who passed the evening with him in reading the Kurán,
treated him hospitably—with Mr. Richardson’s mohamsa.
_Monday, August 26._—After a march of three miles and a half, having
ascended a little, we obtained a clear view of the great mountain mass
which, lying between Tídik, on the north and Tintagh-odé on the west,
seems not to be marked with a collective proper name, although it is
very often called by the people Mount Absen. But I cannot say whether
this name, which is the old Góber name for the whole country called the
Berbers Aïr, belonged originally only to these mountains, or whether it
is now given to them merely on account of their being the conspicuous
elevation of the country so named, to people coming from the north;
for this, according to the unanimous statement of the Kél-owí, is the
frontier of Sudán, to which neither Tághajít nor even Tídik belongs. The
Tuarek, it would seem, have no indigenous proper name for Sudán (properly
Beled eʾ sudán) or Negroland; most of them call it Agús (the south).
Nevertheless Tekrúr seems to be an ancient Libyan name for Negroland.
A remarkable peak called Téngik or Tímge towers over this mountain mass,
being, according to the intelligent old chief Ánnur (who ought to be well
acquainted with his own country), the most elevated point in the whole
country of Aïr. Unfortunately our situation in the country was such that
we could not think of exploring this very interesting northern barrier,
which must be supposed to possess many beautiful glens and valleys. But
we were still at some distance from these picturesque mountains, and had
to cross a very rugged and dreary waste, where, however, we caught sight
of the first ostrich as yet seen on our journey. We encamped at length in
a shallow valley devoid of any interesting features.
During the night, while I was on the first watch, walking round the
encampment of the caravan, it struck me that at one end of it, beyond
the Kél-owí, a small party was separately encamped. When I went there
the first time all was quiet; but a little after eleven o’clock (for
in general, on such a journey, every one lies down at an early hour),
hearing a noise on that side, and turning thither, I saw two armed Tuarek
saddle their mehára, and make off in the gloom of night. From this
circumstance I concluded that something was still going on against us;
but as it appeared useless to make an alarm, I only took the precaution
to put Overweg, who succeeded me on the watch, upon his guard.
_Tuesday, August 27._—We started at a very early hour; but fortunately
the moonlight was so clear and beautiful that I was not interrupted for
a moment in marking down all the features of the country—at least along
our route, for our situation was now too precarious to allow of our
observing angles to fix the exact position of mountains lying at some
distance from us. The road in general continued rugged for the first six
miles, and formed at times very difficult passes; but, notwithstanding
these obstacles, the whole caravan kept as close together as possible,
and so frustrated the plans of our persecutors, who, as we concluded from
the appearance of several Mehára in the distance, intended to attack us
on the road, if occasion offered. There are two roads, the easternmost
of which passes further on through a remarkable gorge in the mountains,
which we had for a long time ahead of us. Here, where we turned off with
a westerly deviation, beautiful white marble, but slightly weatherworn
on the surface, appeared between the nodules of granite and gneiss,
while on our right we had a rocky ridge called Itsa, the crest of which
was indented in a most remarkable way. Further on, where for a while
we entered on a gravelly soil, the whole ground was covered with fresh
footsteps of camels and men, and there was not the least doubt that
another host was gathering against us.
[Illustration]
Mount Kadamméllet, with its tapering double peak, at a greater distance
in the west, formed an interesting object, while the country was
gradually improving. While turning round the lower offshoots of the
large mountain mass which we had now approached, we entered a rather
narrow but very rich valley, adorned with most luxuriant talha-trees
completely enwrapped and bound together by creepers, while the ground was
richly clothed with herbage. This is the valley of Tídik; the village
of that name, which is situated in a recess of the mountains on our
left, remained invisible. It is said to consist of huts formed of a kind
of long dry grass, and therefore makes some approach to the fashion
of Sudán; these huts are called tághamt, or táramt, by the Southern
Imóshagh. But at present the village was desolate, all the inhabitants,
the Kél-tídik (people of Tídik), having gone for a while to the fine
valleys in the west, which appear to be richer than those to the east.
Further on we crossed the bed of a considerable torrent, the valley
terminating in a narrow passage, which, though generally considered as
the very entrance into the region of Sudán, led us once more into a
desolate rocky district, at times widening to dry hollows. Here Mount
Kadamméllet, of which only the double peak had been previously visible,
exhibited to us its ample flanks. The country became so extremely
rugged that we advanced but slowly; and having here received distinct
information which fully confirmed our apprehension of another predatory
expedition against us, we marched in order of battle. Thus we reached a
pond of rain-water in the narrow rugged hollow Tároï, where we filled our
water-bags. We found here several donkeys of a remarkably fine breed,
belonging to the men who had brought us the news. The country beyond this
place became more interesting and even picturesque at times, several
fine glens descending one after the other from the beautifully indented
mountains on our left, which now rose into full view, as the offshoots
had gradually receded.
[Illustration]
We were only about eight miles from Selúfiet, where we might expect to
be tolerably safe; and we had not the least doubt that we were to sleep
there, when suddenly, before noon, our old Azkár mádogu Awed el Khér
turned off the road to the right, and chose the camping-ground at the
border of a broad valley richly overgrown with herbage. As if moved by
supernatural agency, and in ominous silence, the whole caravan followed;
not a word was spoken. It was then evident that we were to pass through
another ordeal, which, according to all appearance, would be of a more
serious kind than that we had already undergone. How this plot was laid
is rather mysterious; and it can be explained only by supposing that a
diabolical conspiracy was entered into by the various individuals of
our caravan. Some certainly were in the secret; but Ánnur, not less
certainly, was sincere in our interest, and wished us to get through,
safely. But the turbulent state of the country did not allow this weak,
unenergetic man to attain his object. Blackmail had been levied upon us
by the frontier tribes; here was another strong party to be satisfied,
that of the Merábetín or Aníslimen, who, enjoying great influence in the
country, were in a certain degree opposed to the paramount authority of
the old chief Ánnur in Tintéllust; and this man, who alone had power to
check the turbulent spirit of these wild and lawless tribes, was laid
up with sickness. In Agades there was no Sultan, and several parties
still stood in opposition to each other, while by the great expedition
against the Welád Slimán all the warlike passions of the people had been
awakened, and their cupidity and greediness for booty and rapine excited
to the utmost pitch. All these circumstances must be borne in mind in
order to form a right view of the manner in which we were sacrificed.
The whole affair had a very solemn appearance from the beginning, and
it was apparent that this time there were really other motives in view
besides that of robbing us. Some of our companions evidently thought
that here, at such a distance from our homes and our brethren in faith,
we might yield to a more serious attack upon our religion, and so far
were sincerely interested in the success of the proceeding; but whether
they had any accurate idea of the fate that awaited us, whether we
should retain our property and be allowed to proceed, I cannot say. But
it is probable that the fanatics thought little of our future destiny;
and it is absurd to imagine that, if we had changed our religion as we
would a suit of clothes, we should have thereby escaped absolute ruin.
Our people, who well knew what was going on, desired us to pitch only
a single tent for all three of us, and not to leave it, even though a
great many people should collect about us. The excitement and anxiety
of our friend Ánnur had reached the highest pitch, and Bóro was writing
letter after letter. Though a great number of Merábetín had collected
at an early hour, and a host of other people arrived before sunset, the
storm did not break out; but as soon as all the people of our caravan,
arranged in a long line close to our tent, under the guidance of the most
respected of the Merábetín as Imám, had finished their Mughreb prayers,
the calm was at an end, and the scene which followed was awful.
Our own people were so firmly convinced that, as we stoutly refused to
change our religion, though only for a day or two, we should immediately
suffer death, that our servant Mohammed, as well as Mukni, requested us
most urgently to testify, in writing, that they were innocent of our
blood. Mr. Richardson himself was far from being sure that the sheikhs
did not mean exactly what they said. Our servants, and the chiefs of the
caravan, had left us with the plain declaration that nothing less than
certain death awaited us; and we were sitting silently in the tent, with
the inspiring consciousness of going to our fate in a manner worthy alike
of our religion and of the nation in whose name we were travelling among
these barbarous tribes, when Mr. Richardson interrupted the silence which
prevailed, with these words: “Let us talk a little. We must die; what
is the use of sitting so mute?” For some minutes death seemed really
to hover over our heads, but the awful moment passed by. We had been
discussing Mr. Richardson’s last propositions for an attempt to escape
with our lives, when, as a forerunner of the official messenger, the
benevolent and kind-hearted Slimán rushed into our tent, and with the
most sincere sympathy stammered out the few words, “You are not to die.”
The amount of the spoil taken from us was regulated by the sum which
we had paid to our Kél-owí escort, the party concerned presuming that
they had just the same demands upon us as our companions. The principal,
if not the only, actors in this affair were the Merábetín; and Ánnur,
the chief of Tin-téllust, afterwards stated to us that it was to them
we had to attribute all our losses and mishaps. There was also just
at this period a young sheríf from Medína at Tintagh-odé, with whom we
afterwards came into intimate relations, and who confessed to us that he
had contributed his part to excite the hatred of the people against the
Christian intruders. Experienced travellers have very truly remarked that
this sort of sherífs are at the bottom of every intrigue. To the honour
of Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, I have to state that he was ashamed of the whole
affair, and tried to protect us to the best of his power, although in
the beginning he had certainly done all that he could to bring us into
difficulties.
It was one of the defects of the expedition that our merchandise, instead
of comprising a few valuable things, was for the most part composed of
worthless bulky objects, and that it made the people believe that we were
carrying with us enormous wealth, while the whole value of our things
scarcely amounted to two hundred pounds. We had besides about ten large
iron cases filled with dry biscuit, but which all the ignorant people
believed to be crammed with money. The consequence was that the next
morning, when all the claims had at length been settled, and we wanted
to move on, there was still great danger that the rabble, which had not
yet dispersed, would fall upon the rest of our luggage; and we were
greatly obliged to the Sfaksi, who not only passed some of our luggage as
his own, but also dashed to pieces one of the iron cases, when, to the
astonishment of the simple people, instead of heaps of dollars, a dry and
tasteless sort of bread came forth from the strong enclosure.
Meanwhile the persecuted Christians had made off, accompanied by some
of the Kél-owí; and at length the whole caravan collected together. The
valley was here very beautiful, and having crossed some smaller hollows,
we reached the fine valley of Selúfiet, rich in trees and bushes, but
without herbage; while at the distance of less than a mile on our left
the high peak of the Tímge stood erect. Towards the west the valley
forms a deep gap behind a projecting mass of granite blocks, and it was
here that I met again my old acquaintance from the Sʿaid and Nubia, the
dúm-tree or _Cucifera Thebaïca_, here called gáriba, after the Háusa name
góreba. From the Kél-owí I could not learn the proper Berber name of this
tree, but the Western Imóshagh call it akóf. Even the _Capparis sodata_
seems to be called, by the Berber conquerors of this country, only by
the Háusa name abísga, while their western brethren call it téshak.
Besides the _Cucifera_, or fan-palm, there were here also a few isolated
specimens of the date-palm.
The village of Selúfiet itself, consisting of sixty or seventy grass huts
of peculiar shape, lies on the southern side of a broad valley running
here from east to west, and richly overgrown with górebas, abísgas,
and talha-trees, but without any grass, for which the ground seems too
elevated and stony. Our camping-ground also was of this bare character,
and not at all pleasing; it was protected in the rear by large buttresses
of rock. We had not yet enjoyed much tranquillity and security, and we
here felt its want the more keenly as, our camel-drivers having been
hired only as far as this place, we had henceforth to take charge of all
our things ourselves. A large mob of lawless people came about us in the
course of the night, howling like hungry jackals, and we were obliged
to assure them, by frequent firing, that we were on the watch. We had
been obliged to leave our camels to the care of the Kél-owí; but the
freebooters having succeeded in dispersing the camels in every direction,
our friends were unable in the evening to collect either their own
animals or ours, and in the night they were all driven away, as we were
told, by the Merábetín themselves, who so repeatedly assured us of their
protection.
In the letters which we sent to Europe during our next day’s halt in
this place, by a caravan of Arabs and Kél-owí, the largest part of which
was already in advance, we were unable to give a perfectly satisfactory
account of our progress; nevertheless we had made a great step in
advance, and were justified in hoping that we should be able to overcome
whatever difficulties might still await us, and the more so as we were
now able to place ourselves in direct communication with the chief of
Tin-téllust, from whom we might soon expect to receive an escort.
[Illustration]
_Thursday, August 29._—Some of the stolen camels having been recovered,
though fifteen were still wanting, we were enabled to move from this
uncomfortable place the next day, leaving behind us, however, the boat
and some other things, which were valueless to any but ourselves.
Pleased as we were with our onward movement, we were still more cheered
when we observed in the fine valley, which here seems to bear the name
Érasa, or rather Érazar, some small fields with a fresh green crop of
negro millet—a delicious sight to travellers from the desert, and the
best assurance that we had entered cultivable regions. The fields or
gardens were watered by means of a kind of khattára of very simple
construction, a simple pole, with a longer cross pole, to which the
bucket is fastened. A little further on the whole valley was clothed
with fine widespreading bushes of the abísga or _Capparis_; but it
soon narrowed, while we marched straight upon the high pointed peak
overtowering Tintagh-odé, which forms an interesting object. The valley
of Selúfiet seems to have no connection with that of the latter place;
at least, the principal branch, along which our route lay, was entirely
separated from it by rocky ground. Here a broad gap dividing the mountain
mass allows a peep into the glens formed by the several ridges of which
it consists, and which seem to rise to greater elevation as they recede.
The slope is rather precipitous, and the general elevation of this
mountain mass seems scarcely less than 3,300 feet above the bottom of the
valley, or about 5,000 feet above the level of the sea.
We soon descended again from the rocky ground into a hollow plain richly
clothed with vegetation, where, besides the abísga, the tunfáfia or
_Asclepias gigantea_, which we had entirely lost sight of since leaving
Égeri, appeared in great abundance. Here also was a new plant which we
had not seen before—the “állwot,” with large succulent leaves and a
pretty violet flower. The camels devoured it most eagerly, and, in the
whole district of Aïr, preferred it to any other kind of food. It has a
great resemblance to the poisonous damankádda, which in Sudán is often
the cause of dangerous disease, and even of death, to the camel. After
marching along this valley for two miles, we encamped on an open space
encircled with the green spreading bushes of the abísga, a little beyond
Tintagh-odé, the village of the Merábetín or Aníslimen, which is spread
in a long line over the low offshoots of the mountain range, and contains
about a hundred light huts, almost all of them being made of grass and
the leaves of the dúm-palm, a few only being built of stones. Small as
this village is, it is of very great importance for the intercourse
between Central Africa and the northern region beyond the desert; for
under the authority of these learned and devout men, commerce is carried
on with a security which is really surprising, if regard be had to the
wild and predatory habits of the people around. As these Aníslimen belong
to a tribe of the Kél-owí, we may infer that their settlement here was
contemporaneous with the conquest of the country by the latter tribe, a
conclusion favoured by the narrative of Ebn Batúta, who does not appear
to have found any settlements in this quarter.
The Aníslimen, however, though they style themselves “devout men,”
have not therefore relinquished all concern about the things of this
world, but, on the contrary, by their ambition, intrigues, and warlike
proceedings, exercise a great influence upon the whole affairs of the
country, and have placed themselves, as I have already mentioned, in
a sort of opposition to the powerful chief of Tin-téllust. Recently,
however, a great calamity had befallen them, the Awelímmiden (the “Surka”
of Mungo Park, the dreaded enemies of the Kél-owí) having by a sudden
inroad carried away all their camels; and it may have been partly the
desire to make use of the opportunity afforded them by the arrival of
some unprotected infidels, to repair their losses in some measure, which
made them deal so hostilely with us.
As we encamped, the boys of the village hovered around us in great
numbers; and while we kept a good look out to prevent their pilfering,
we could not but admire their tall, well-formed figures and their light
colour, the best proof that this little clan does not intermarry with
the black race. They wore nothing but a leather apron; and their hair
was shorn on the sides, leaving a crest in the middle. When we had made
ourselves somewhat comfortable we were desirous of entering into some
traffic with the people, in order to replace our provisions, which
were almost wholly exhausted; but we soon had reason to be convinced
how erroneous were the ideas which we had formed from reports as to
the cheapness of provisions in this country, and that we should have
very great difficulty in procuring even the little that was absolutely
necessary. Of butter and cheese we were unable to obtain the smallest
quantity, while only very small parcels of dukhn, or gero (millet
or _Pennisetum typhoïdeum_), were offered to us, and greatly to our
disadvantage, as the articles we had to barter with, such as bleached and
unbleached calico, razors, and other things, were estimated at a very
low rate. A common razor brought us here ten zekka of millet, worth,
according to the estimate of the country, one-third of a mithkál, equal
to 333 kurdi, or about sixpence-halfpenny. I learnt from Émeli that the
Sakomáren, a tribe of Imóshagh possessing large flocks of sheep and even
much cattle, bring almost every year a considerable supply of butter to
this country, a statement which was soon confirmed by my own experience.
The man just mentioned, who had something extremely noble and
prepossessing about him, was about to return to Ghát, and I confided to
him a letter for Europe. In all probability this is the letter which was
afterwards found in the desert, and was brought by Nakhnúkhen (the chief
of the Azkár) himself to Mr. Dickson, Her Majesty’s agent in Ghadámes,
who from its fate drew some sinister conclusions as to my own.
_Sunday, September 1._—Several other people having left us, we remained
in tolerable quiet and repose the whole day; but it was reported that
the next day, during which we should be obliged to stay here in order to
wait for the restitution of our camels, there would be a great concourse
of Mehára to celebrate a marriage in the village; but fortunately the
immense quantity of rain which fell in the whole of the neighbourhood,
and which on the 1st of September changed our valley into the broad
bed of a rapid river, placing all our property in the utmost danger,
prevented this design from being executed, and, while it seemed to
portend to us a new misfortune, most probably saved us from a much
greater mischief.
Having just escaped from the dangers arising from the fanaticism and the
rapacity of the people, it was a hard trial to have to contend again
against an element the power of which, in these border regions of the
desert, we had been far from appreciating and acknowledging. We had no
antecedents from which to conclude the possibility that in this region
a valley, more than half a mile wide, might be turned, in twenty-four
hours, into a stream violent enough to carry away the heaviest things,
not excepting even a strong, tall animal like the camel; and it was with
almost childish satisfaction that, in the afternoon of Saturday, we went
to look at the stream, which was just beginning to roll its floods along.
It was then a most pleasant and refreshing sight; the next day it became
a grand and awful picture of destruction, which gave us no faint idea of
a deluge. To the description of the flood itself, as it is given by Mr.
Richardson, I shall not add anything; but I have to mention the following
circumstances, which seem not to have been placed in their true light.
Half an hour after midday, the waters began to subside, and ceased
to endanger our little island, which, attacked on all sides by the
destructive fury of an impetuous mountain torrent swollen to the
dimensions of a considerable river, was fast crumbling to pieces, and
scarcely afforded any longer space enough to hold our party and our
things. Suddenly, on the western shore, a number of Mehára were seen; at
the same time the whole population of Tintagh-odé, in full battle-array,
came from the other side, and formed themselves in regular groups, partly
round our hill, and partly opposite to the Tinýlkum. While we looked with
distrust upon these preparations, most of our muskets having been wetted,
the mischievous Mohammed approached our hill and, addressing me with a
very significant and malevolent look, cried out, “Lots of people!” The
previous afternoon, when I had requested him, while squatting himself
insolently upon my carpet, to leave this only piece of comfort for my own
use, he threatened me in plain terms, and in the coolest manner, that the
following night I should lie on the bottom of the wady, and he upon my
carpet. Not put out by his malice, though I was myself rather doubtful
as to the friendly intentions of all these people, I told him that the
Mehára were our friends, sent by the chief Ánnur as an escort to conduct
us safely to Tin-téllust. With a threatening gesture he told me I should
be sadly disappointed, and went away. Fortunately, it turned out that the
people mounted on camels were really Annur’s escort; but at the same time
a large band of robbers had collected, in order to make a last effort to
take possession of our property before we should obtain the protection of
Ánnur, and only withdrew reluctantly when they saw that they should meet
with a strong opposition.
We were then justified in hoping that we had at length entered a
harbour affording us a certain degree of security, and with thankful
and gladdened hearts we looked forward to our further proceedings. Our
present situation, however, was far from being comfortable: almost all
our things were wet; our tents were lying in the mud at the bottom of the
stream; and our comfortable and strong, but heavy, Tripolitan tent was so
soaked with water and earth that a camel could scarcely carry it. Leaving
at length our ill-chosen camping-ground, Overweg and I were passing the
principal torrent (which was still very rapid), when the camels we rode,
weakened by the dreadful situation they had been in the whole day, were
unable to keep their feet, and, slipping on the muddy bottom, set us down
in the midst of the stream. Soaked and barefoot, having lost my shoes, I
was glad to reach in the dark the new encampment which had been chosen on
the elevated rocky ground a little beyond the border of the valley. Our
beds were in the most cheerless condition, and in an unhealthy climate
would certainly have been productive of bad consequences. Aír, however,
in every respect may be called the Switzerland of the desert.
_Monday, September 2._—Fortunately the weather on the following morning
cleared up, and, although the sun came forth only now and then, a fresh
wind was very favourable for drying; and it was pleasant to see one thing
after another resume a comfortable appearance. The whole encampment
seemed to be one large drying-ground.
Having recovered a little from the uncomfortable state in which we had
passed the night, we went to pay a visit to the principal men of our new
escort, who had seated themselves in a circle, spear in hand, with their
leader, Hámma (a son-in-law of the chief Ánnur) in the midst of them.
Entire strangers as both parties were to each other, and after the many
mishaps we had gone through, and the many false reports which must have
reached these men about our character, the meeting could not fail to be
somewhat cool. We expressed to the leader our sincere acknowledgment of
the service which the chief Ánnur had rendered us, and begged him to
name us to such of his companions as were related to the chief. On this
occasion Mohammed, the chief’s cousin, who afterwards became a great
friend of mine, made himself remarkable by his pretensions and arrogance.
They were all of them tolerably good-looking, but they were not at all
of the same make as the Azkár and the people living near the border of
Aïr. They were blacker, and not so tall, and, instead of the austere
and regular northern features, had a rounder and more cheerful, though
less handsome expression of countenance. Their dress also was more gay,
several of them wearing light blue, instead of the melancholy-looking
dark blue tobes.
At about ten o’clock we at length moved on, and chose the western of the
two roads, leading hence to Tin-téllust, by way of Fódet; the eastern
one passes through Tágo and Táni. Leaving the large green valley of
Tintagh-odé on our left, we kept on more uneven ground, passing some
smaller glens, till we reached the commencement of the fine broad valley
Fódet, and encamped near the cliffs bordering its eastern side. Here the
water, rushing down from the rocks in a sort of cascade, had formed a
pond, which, however, was not destined to remain long.
_Tuesday, September 3._—We made a very interesting march through a
country marked with bold features, and showing itself in more than one
respect capable of being the abode of man. Turning away from the eastern
border, we kept more along the middle of the valley, till we reached the
most picturesque spot, where it divided into two branches, the eastern
of which, bordered by several imposing mountain spurs, presented a very
interesting perspective, of which the accompanying sketch, drawn as it
was on the back of my camel, will give only a faint idea.
The whole bottom of the valley, where, the day before yesterday, a mighty
torrent had been foaming along, was now glittering with fragments of
minerals. We then passed the ruins of some houses carried away by the
floods, and met further on a little troop of asses laden with éneli. Our
whole caravan was in good spirits; and our escort, in order to give us
a specimen of their horsemanship, if I may so call it, got up a race,
which, as may be readily imagined, proved a very awkward affair. Two or
three of the riders were thrown off, and the sport soon came to an end.
The swift camel is excellent for trotting, but it can never excel in a
gallop. In our ascent we had reached very considerable mountain masses
on our right, when some of our old companions, who had come with us from
Ghát, separated from us, in order to go to their village, Túngadu. Among
these was Ákshi, a very modest and quiet man, who alone of all these
people had never begged from me even the merest trifle, though he gave
me some information, and I might have learnt much more from him if I had
seen him more frequently. But I had the good fortune to meet with him
again at a later period.
The country here became very mountainous, and the ascent steep, till we
reached a valley called by some of the Kél-owí the upper course of the
valley of Tin-téllust. Having reached the crest of the elevation, we
began to descend, first gradually along smaller valleys, afterwards more
steeply into a deep ravine, while in the distance towards the south-west,
above the lower hills, a ridge of considerable elevation became visible.
Gradually the ravine widened, and became clothed with fine herbage.
Here, to our great disappointment, the little Ánnur, Dídi, Fárreji, and
several of the Tinýlkum (among them the intelligent and active Ibrahím)
left us in order to reach their respective residences. Of course Ánnur
ought to have seen us safe to the chief’s residence; but being without
energy, he allowed our new companions, with whom we had not yet been able
to become acquainted, to extort from us what they could, as the Fade-ang
and the Aníslimen had done before. Keeping along some smaller valleys, we
reached, about noon, a considerable pond of rain-water, where I watered
my thirsty camel. Almost all the smaller valleys through which we passed
incline towards the west.
[Illustration]
Much against our wish, we encamped a little after three o’clock P.M.,
in a widening of the valley Afís, near the southern cliffs (which had
a remarkably shattered appearance), there being a well at some little
distance. We had scarcely encamped when a troublesome scene was enacted,
in the attempt to satisfy our escort, the men not being yet acquainted
with us, and making importunate demands. But there was more turmoil and
disturbance than real harm in it; and though half of the contents of a
bale of mine were successfully carried off by the turbulent Mohammed,
and a piece of scarlet cloth was cut into numberless small shreds in
the most wanton manner, yet there was not much to complain of, and it
was satisfactory to see Hámma (Ánnur’s son-in-law, and the chief of the
escort) display the greatest energy in his endeavours to restore what was
forcibly taken.
_Wednesday, September 4._—We were glad when day dawned; but with it
came very heavy rain, which had been portended last night by thickly
accumulated clouds and by lightning. Rain early in the morning seems to
be rather a rare phenomenon, as well in this country as all over Central
Africa, if it be not in continuation of the previous night’s rain; and
it was probably so on this occasion, rain having fallen during the whole
night in the country around us.
Having waited till the rain seemed to have a little abated, we started
at seven o’clock, in order to reach the residence of the powerful chief
Ánnur, in whose hands now lay the whole success of the expedition.
Though all that we had heard about him was calculated to inspire us
with confidence in his personal character, yet we could not but feel a
considerable degree of anxiety. Soon emerging from the valley of Afís,
we ascended rocky ground, over which we plodded, while the rain poured
down upon us with renewed violence, till we reached the commencement of
another valley, and a little further, on its northern side, the small
village Sárara, or Asárara, divided into two groups, between which we
passed. We then crossed low rocky ground intersected by many small beds
of torrents descending from the mountains on our left, which rise to a
considerable elevation. All these channels incline towards the south, and
are thickly clothed with bushes.
It was half-past nine o’clock, the weather having now cleared up, when
we entered the valley of Tin-téllust, forming a broad sandy channel,
bare of herbage, and only lined with bushes along its border. On the low
rocky projections on its eastern side lay a little village, scarcely
discernible from the rocks around; it was the long and anxiously
looked-for residence of the chief Eʾ Núr or Ánnur. Our servants saluted
it with a few rounds. Leaving the village on the eastern border of the
sandy bed, we went a little further to the south, keeping close to the
low rocky projection on our right, at the foot of which was the little
tebki or water-pond, and encamped on a sand-hill rising in a recess of
the rocky offshoots, and adorned at its foot with the beautiful green
and widely spreading bushes of the _Capparis sodata_, while behind was a
charming little hollow with luxuriant talha-trees. Over the lower rocky
ground rose Mount Tunán, while towards the south the majestic mountain
group of Búnday closed the view. As for the prospect over the valley
towards the village, and the beautiful mountain mass beyond, it is
represented in the annexed sketch, made at a later period, and for the
accuracy of which I can answer.
Altogether it was a most beautiful camping-ground, where in ease and
quiet we could establish our little residence, not troubled every moment
by the intrusion of the townspeople; but it was rather too retired a
spot, and too far from our protector, being at least eight hundred yards
from the village, in a country of lawless people not yet accustomed
to see among them men of another creed, of another complexion, and of
totally different usages and manners.
This spot being once selected, the tents were soon pitched; and in
a short time, on the summit of the sand-hill, there rose the little
encampment of the English expedition, consisting of four tents forming a
sort of semi-circle, opening towards the south, the point to which all
our arduous efforts were directed, Mr. Richardson’s tent towards the
west, Overweg’s and mine adjoining it towards the east, and each flanked
by a smaller tent for the servants. Doubtless this sand-hill will ever
be memorable in the annals of the Asbenáwa as the “English Hill,” or the
“Hill of the Christians.” But before I proceed to relate the incidents
of our daily life while we stayed here, it will be well to introduce the
reader to the country and the people with whom we have come in contact.