RESIDENCE IN TIN-TÉLLUST.
_Thursday, September 5._—We saw the old chief on the day following our
arrival. He received us in a straightforward and kindly manner, observing
very simply that even, if as Christians, we had come to his country
stained with guilt, the many dangers and difficulties we had gone through
would have sufficed to wash us clean, and that we had nothing now to
fear but the climate and the thieves. The presents which were spread out
before him he received graciously, but without saying a single word. Of
hospitality he showed no sign. All this was characteristic.
We soon received further explanations. Some days afterwards he sent us
the simple and unmistakable message, that if we wished to proceed to
Sudán at our own risk, we might go in company with the caravan, and he
would place no obstacle in our way; but if we wanted him to go with us
and to protect us, we ought to pay him a considerable sum. In stating
these plain terms he made use of a very expressive simile, saying that
as the leffa (or snake) killed everything that she touched, so his
word, when it had once escaped his lips, had terminated the matter
in question—there was nothing more to be said. I do not think this
such an instance of shameful extortion as Mr. Richardson represents
it, considering how much we gave to others who did nothing for their
pay, and how much trouble we caused Ánnur. On the contrary, having
observed Ánnur’s dealings to the very last, and having arrived under his
protection safely at Kátsena, I must pronounce him a straightforward and
trustworthy man, who stated his terms plainly and drily, but stuck to
them with scrupulosity; and as he did not treat us, neither did he ask
anything from us, nor allow his people to do so. I shall never forgive
him for his niggardliness in not offering me so much as a drink of fura
or ghussub-water when I visited him, in the heat of the day, on his
little estate near Tasáwa; but I cannot withhold from him my esteem
both as a great politician in his curious little empire, and as a man
remarkable for singleness of word and purpose.
Having come into the country as hated intruders, pursued by all classes
of people, we could not expect to be received by him otherwise than
coldly; but his manner changed entirely when I was about to set out for
Ágades, in order to obtain the good-will of the Sultan of the country.
He came to our encampment to see me off, and from that day forth did
not omit to visit us every day, and to maintain the most familiar
intercourse with us. So it was with all the people; and I formed so
many friendships with them that the turbulent Mohammed, Ánnur’s cousin,
used often to point to them as a proof how impossible it was that he
could have been the instigator of the misdeeds perpetrated on the night
preceding our arrival in Tin-téllust, when we were treated with violence,
and our luggage was rifled. Still we had, of course, many disagreeable
experiences to make before we became naturalized in this new country.
_Monday, September 9._—It was the rainy season, and the rain, setting
in almost daily, caused us as much interest and delight (being a
certain proof that we had reached the new regions after which we had
so long been hankering) as served to counterbalance the trouble which
it occasioned. Sometimes it fell very heavily, and, coming on always
with a dreadful storm, was very difficult to be kept out from the tent,
so that our things often got wet. The heaviest rain we had was on the
9th of September, when an immense torrent was formed, not only in the
chief valley, but even in the small ravine behind our encampment. Yet
we liked the rain much better than the sand-storm. In a few days nature
all around assumed so fresh and luxuriant a character that so long as
we were left in repose we felt cheered to the utmost, and enjoyed our
pleasant encampment, which was surrounded by masses of granite blocks,
widespreading bushes of the abísga, and large luxuriant talha-trees, in
wild and most picturesque confusion. It was very pleasant and interesting
to observe, every day, the rapid growth of the little fresh leaves and
young offshoots, and the spreading of the shady foliage.
_Tuesday, September 17._—Monkeys now and then descended into the little
hollow beyond our tents to obtain a draught of water; and numbers of
jackals were heard every night roving about us, while the trees swarmed
with beautiful ringdoves, and hoopoes, and other smaller birds. The
climate of Aïr has been celebrated from the time of Leo, on account
“della bontá e temperanza dell’ aere.” But unfortunately our little
English suburb proved too distant from the protecting arm of the old
chief, and after the unfortunate attack in the night of the 17th of
September, which if made with vigour would inevitably have ended in our
destruction, we were obliged to remove our encampment, and, crossing the
broad valley, pitch it in the plain near the village.
But the circumstances connected with this attack were so curious that
I must relate them, in a few words. The rain, which had wetted all our
things, and made us anxious about our instruments and arms, seemed to
abate; and Overweg and I decided, the very day preceding the attack in
question, on cleaning our guns and pistols, which had been loaded for
some time; and having cleaned them, and wishing to dry them well, we did
not load them again immediately. In the afternoon we had a visit from two
well-dressed men, mounted on mehára; they did not beg for anything, but
inspected the tents very attentively, making the remark that our tent was
as strong as a house, while Mr. Richardson’s was light and open at the
bottom.
The moon shed a splendid light over the interesting wilderness, and our
black servants being uncommonly cheerful and gay that night, music and
dancing were going on in the village, and they continued playing till a
very late hour, when they fell asleep. Going the round of our encampment
before I went to lie down, I observed at a little distance a strange
camel, or rather méheri, kneeling quietly down with its head towards our
tents. I called my colleagues, and expressed my suspicion that all was
not right; but our light-hearted and frivolous servant Mohammed calmed my
uneasiness by pretending that he had seen the camel there before, though
that was not true. Still I had some sad foreboding, and, directing my
attention unluckily to the wrong point, caused our sheep to be tied close
to our tent.
Being uneasy, I did not sleep soundly, and a little after two o’clock I
thought I heard a very strange noise, just as if a troop of people were
marching with a steady step round our tents, and muttering in a jarring
voice. Listening anxiously for a moment, I felt sure that there were
people near the tent, and was about to rush out; but again, on hearing
the sound of music proceeding from the village, I persuaded myself that
the noise came from thence, and lay down to slumber, when suddenly I
heard a louder noise, as if several men were rushing up the hill, and,
grasping a sword and calling aloud for our people, I jumped out of the
tent; but there was nobody to be seen. Going then round the hill to Mr.
Richardson’s tent, I met him coming out half-dressed, and begging me to
pursue the robbers, who had carried away some of his things. Some of his
boxes were dragged out of the tent, but not emptied. None of his servants
were to be seen except Sʿaid, all the rest having run away without even
giving an alarm; so that all of us might have been murdered.
But immediately after this accident we received the distinct assurance
of protection both from the Sultan of Ágades and from the great mʿallem
Azóri; and I began to plan my excursion to Ágades more definitely, and
entered into communication with the chief on this point. Meanwhile I
collected a great deal of information about the country, partly from a
Tawáti of the name of ʿAbd el Káder (not the same who accompanied us on
the road from Ghát), and partly from some of the Tinýlkum, who, having
left us the day after our arrival in Tin-téllust, had dispersed all over
the country, some pasturing their camels in the most favoured localities,
others engaged in little trading speculations, and paying us a visit
every now and then. Small caravans came and went, and among them one from
Sudán, with its goods laden almost entirely on pack-oxen—a most cheerful
sight, filling our hearts with the utmost delight, as we were sure that
we had now passed those dreary deserts where nothing but the persevering
and abstemious camel can enable man to maintain communications. At
length, then, we were enabled to write to Government, and to our friends
in Europe, assuring them that we had now overcome, apparently, most of
the difficulties which appeared likely to oppose our progress, and that
we felt justified in believing that we had now fairly entered upon the
road which would lead directly to the attainment of the objects of the
expedition.
With regard to our provisions, Overweg and I were at first rather ill
off, while Mr. Richardson, although he had been obliged to supply food on
the road to troops both of friends and foes, had still a small remnant of
the considerable stores which he had laid in at Múrzuk. We had been led
to expect that we should find no difficulty in procuring all necessaries,
and even a few luxuries, in Asben (and carriage was so dear that we were
obliged to rely upon these promises); but we were now sadly disappointed.
After a few days, however, the inhabitants being informed that we were in
want of provisions, and were ready to buy, brought us small quantities
of Guinea corn, butter—the botta (or box made of rough hide, in the way
common over almost the whole of Central Africa) for two or two and a
half mithkáls—and even a little fresh cheese; we were also able to buy
two or three goats, and by sending Ibrahím, who had now recovered from
his guineaworm, to Ásodi, where provisions are always stored up in small
quantities, we obtained a tolerable camel-load of durra or sorghum.
But I could not relish this grain at all, and as I was not able to
introduce any variety into my diet, I suffered much; hence it was
fortunate for me that I went to Ágades, where my food was more varied,
and my health consequently improved. I afterwards became accustomed to
the various preparations of sorghum and _Pennisetum_, particularly the
asída or túvo, and found that no other food is so well adapted for a hot
climate; but it requires a great deal of labour to prepare it well, and
this of course is a difficult matter for a European traveller, who has no
female slave or partner to look after his meals. Our food during our stay
in Asben was so ill prepared (being generally quite bitter, owing to the
husk not being perfectly separated from the grain) that no native of the
country would taste it.
Meanwhile my negotiation with the chief, with regard to my going to
Ágades, which I managed as silently and secretly as possible, went on
prosperously; and on the 30th of September I took my leave of him, having
with me on the occasion a present for himself, worth about eighty riyáls,
or eleven pounds sterling, and the presents intended for the Sultan of
Ágades, in order that he might see what they were and express his opinion
upon them; and I was greatly pleased to find that he was satisfied with
both. He promised me perfect safety, although the undertaking looked a
little dangerous, and had a letter written to ʿAbd el Káder (or, in the
popular form, Kádiri—this was the name of the new Sultan), wherein he
recommended me to him in the strongest terms, and enumerated the presents
I meant to offer him.
But as soon as my intention transpired, all the people, uninvited as
well as invited, hastened to give me their best advice, and to dissuade
me from embarking in an undertaking which would certainly be my ruin.
Conspicuous among these motley counsellors was a son of Háj ʿAbdúwa, the
presumptive heir of Ánnur, who conjured me to abandon my design. These
people, indeed, succeeded in frightening Yusuf Mákni, Mr. Richardson’s
interpreter, whom the latter wished to send with me; but as for myself,
I knew what I was about, and had full confidence in the old chief’s
promise, and was rather glad to get rid of Mákni, whom I well knew to be
a clever but no less malicious and intriguing person. With difficulty I
persuaded Mohammed, our Tunisian shushán, to accompany me; and I also
succeeded in hiring Amánkay, Mr. Richardson’s active black Búzu servant,
who, however, on this trip proved utterly useless, as we had no sooner
set out than he began to suffer from his old complaint of guineaworm, and
was the whole time too lame for service.
I then arranged with Hámma, Ánnur’s son-in-law, under whose especial
protection I was to undertake my journey, but whom I had to pay
separately. I gave him the value of eleven mithkáls, or about one pound
sterling, for himself, and hired from him two camels, each for six
mithkáls. After various delays, which, however, enabled me to send off
two more of my journals, together with letters, to Múrzuk, by the hand
of a half-caste Kél-owí of the name of Báwa Amákita, our departure was
definitively fixed for the 4th of October.