FINAL DEPARTURE FOR SUDÁN.
_Thursday, December 12._—At length the day broke when we were to move
on and get nearer the longed-for object of our journey, though we were
aware that our first progress would be slow. But before we departed from
this region, which had become so familiar to us, I wished to take a
last glimpse down the valley towards Tin-téllust, and wandered towards
the offshoots of Mount Búnday, which afforded me a fine prospect over
the whole valley up to that beautiful mountain mass which forms so
characteristic a feature in the configuration of the whole country. The
hills which I ascended consisted of basalt, and formed a low ridge, which
was separated from the principal mountain mass by a hollow of sandstone
formation. Having bade farewell to the blue mountains of Tin-téllust, I
took leave of the charming little valley Ofáyet, which, having been a
few moments previously a busy scene of life, was now left to silence and
solitude.
Late in the morning we began to move, but very slowly, halting every now
and then. At length the old chief himself came up, walking like a young
man before his méheri, which he led by the nose-cord, and the varied
groups composing the caravan began to march more steadily. It was a whole
nation in motion, the men on camels or on foot, the women on bullocks
or on asses, with all the necessaries of the little household, as well
as the houses themselves, a herd of cattle, another of milk-goats,
and numbers of young camels running playfully alongside, and sometimes
getting between the regular lines of the laden animals. The ground was
very rocky and rugged, and looked bare and desolate in the extreme, the
plain being strewn for a while with loose basaltic stones, like the Plain
of Tághist.
Several high peaks characterize this volcanic region, and after having
left to our right the peak called Ebárrasa, we encamped, a little before
noon, at the north-eastern foot of a very conspicuous peak called
Teléshera, which had long attracted my attention. We had scarcely
chosen our ground when I set out on foot in order to ascend this high
mountain, from which I expected to obtain a view over the eastern side
of the picturesque mass of the Eghellál; but its ascent proved very
difficult, chiefly because I had not exerted my strength much during our
long stay in this country. The flanks of the peak, after I had ascended
the offshoots, which consisted of sandstones, were most precipitous and
abrupt, and covered with loose stones, which gave way under my feet, and
often carried me a long way down. The summit consisted of perpendicular
trachytic pillars, of quadrangular and almost regular form, 2½ ft. in
thickness, as if cut by the hand of man, some of them about one hundred
feet high, while others had been broken off at greater or less height.
It is at least fifteen hundred feet above the bottom of the valley. The
view was interesting, although the sky was not clear. I was able to
take several angles, but the western flank of the Eghellál, which I was
particularly anxious to obtain a sight of, was covered by other heights.
Beyond the branch wady which surrounds this mountain on the south side,
there is a ridge ranging to a greater length, and rising from the ground
with a very precipitous wall; this was examined by Mr. Overweg, and found
to consist likewise of trachyte interspersed with black basaltic stone
and crystals of glassy felspar. Having attained my purpose, I began
my retreat, but found the descent more troublesome than the ascent,
particularly as my boots were torn to pieces by the sharp stones; and
the fragments giving way under my feet, I fell repeatedly. I was quite
exhausted when I reached the tent, but a cup of strong coffee soon
restored me. However, I never afterwards on my whole journey felt strong
enough to ascend a mountain of moderate elevation.
_Friday, December 13._—Starting rather late, we continued through the
mountainous region, generally ascending, while a cold wind made our old
friend the chief shiver and regard with feelings of envy my thick black
bernús, although he had got bernúses enough from us not only to protect
him against cold, but us too against any envious feeling for the little
which was left us. Further on, in several places, the granite (which
at the bottom of the valley alternates with sandstone) was perfectly
disintegrated, and had become like meal. Here the passage narrowed for
about an hour, when we obtained a view of a long range stretching out
before us, with a considerable cone lying in front of it. Keeping now
over rocky ground, then along the bottom of a valley called Tánegat,
about half a mile broad, where we passed a well on our right, we at
length reached a mountain spur starting off from the ridge on our
right, and entered a beautiful broad plain, stretching out to the foot
of a considerable mountain group, which was capped by a remarkable
picturesquely indented cone called Mári. Here we saw the numerous camels
of the salt caravan grazing in the distance to our left; and after having
crossed a small rocky flat, we encamped in the very channel of the
torrent, being certain that at this season no such danger as overwhelmed
us in the valley Éghazar was to be feared. Ámagay, who was still with
us, paid me a visit in the afternoon, and had a cup of coffee; he also
came the next morning. Near our encampment were some fine acacia-trees of
the species called gáwo, which I shall have to mention repeatedly in my
travels.
_Saturday, December 14._—We started early, but encamped, after a short
march of about six miles, on uneven ground intersected by numbers of
small ridges. The reason of the halt was that the whole of the caravan
was to come up and to join together; and our old chief here put on his
official dress (a yellow bernús of good quality), to show his dignity as
leader of such a host of people.
Salt forms the only article conveyed by this caravan. The form of the
largest cake is very remarkable; but it must be borne in mind that the
salt in Bilma is in a fluid state, and is formed into this shape by
pouring it into a wooden mould. This pedestal or loaf of salt (kántu)
is equal to five of the smaller cakes, which are called áserím; and
each áserím equals four of the smallest cakes, which are called fótu.
The bags, made of the leaves of the dúm-palm (or the “kábba”), in which
these loaves are packed up, are called “tákrufa.” But the finest salt is
generally in loose grains, and this is the only palatable salt, while the
ordinary salt of Bilma is very bitter to the European palate, and spoils
everything; but the former is more than three times the value of the
latter. The price paid in Bilma is but two zékkas for three kántus.
In the evening there was “urgí,” or “éddil” (playing), and “ráwa,” or
“adéllul” (dancing), all over the large camp of the salt caravan, and
the drummers, or “masugánga,” were all vying with each other, when I
observed that our drummer, Hassan, who was proud of his talent, and used
to call for a little present, was quite outdone by the drummer of that
portion of the caravan which was nearest to us, who performed his work
with great skill, and caused general enthusiasm among the dancing people.
The many lively and merry scenes, ranging over a wide district, itself
picturesque, and illuminated by large fires in the dusk of evening,
presented a cheerful picture of animated native life, looking at which
a traveller might easily forget the weak points discoverable in other
phases of life in the desert.
_Sunday, December 15._—The general start of the united “aïri,” or
caravan, took place with great spirit; and a wild, enthusiastic cry,
raised over the whole extent of the encampment, answered to the
beating of the drums. For though the Kél-owí are greatly civilized by
the influence of the black population, nevertheless they are still
“half demons,” while the thoroughbred and freeborn Amóshagh (whatever
name he may bear, whether Tárki, ba-Ásbenchi, Kindín, or Chapáto) is
regarded by all the neighbouring tribes, Arabs as well as Africans, as
a real demon (“jin”). Notwithstanding all this uproar, we were rather
astonished at the small number of camels, laden with salt, which formed
Ánnur’s caravan; for they did not exceed two hundred, and their loads in
the aggregate would realize in Kanó at the very utmost three thousand
dollars, which, if taken as the principal revenue of the chief, seems
very little. The whole number of the caravan did not exceed two thousand
camels.
[Illustration]
However enthusiastically the people had answered to the call of the
drums, the loading of the camels took a long time, and the old chief
himself had remarkably few people to get ready his train; but the reason
probably was that he was obliged to leave as many people behind as
possible for the security of the country. When at length we set out, the
view which presented itself was really highly exciting; for here a whole
nation was in motion, going on its great errand of supplying the wants of
other tribes, and bartering for what they stood in need of themselves.
All the drums were beating, and one string of camels after the other
marched up in martial order, led on by the “mádogu,” the most experienced
and steadfast among the servants or followers of each chief. It was clear
that our last night’s encampment had been chosen only on account of its
being well protected all around by ridges of rock; for on setting out
to-day we had to follow up, in the beginning, a course due west, in order
to return into our main direction along the valley. We then gradually
began to turn round the very remarkable Mount Mári, which here assumed
the figure shown in the sketch. Further on I saw the people busy in
digging up a species of edible bulbous roots called “adíllewan” by the
Kél-owí. This, I think, besides the “bába,” or “níle” (the _Indigofera
endecaphylla_) the first specimens of which we had observed two days ago
shooting up unostentatiously among the herbage, was the most evident
proof that we had left the region of the true desert, though we had still
to cross a very sterile tract.
Having changed our direction from south to south-west, about noon we
entered the high road coming directly from Ásodi, but which was, in fact,
nothing better than a narrow pathway. Here we were winding through a
labyrinth of large detached projecting blocks, while Mount Mári presented
itself in an entirely different shape. Gradually the bottom of the valley
became free from blocks, and we were crossing and recrossing the bed of
the watercourse, when we met a small caravan belonging to my friend the
Emgédesi Ídder, who had been to Damerghú to buy corn. Shortly afterwards,
we encamped at the side of the watercourse, which is called Adóral, and
which joins, further downwards, another channel, called Wéllek, which
runs close along the western range. Here we saw the first specimens of
the pendent nests of the weaver bird (_Ploceus Abyssiniacus_).
While I was filling up my journal in the afternoon I received a visit
from Mohammed Byrji, who had this morning left Tin-téggana; he informed
me that the women and the old men whom we had left there had not returned
to Tin-téllust, but had gone to Tintághalén. All the population of the
other villages in the northern districts of Aír were likewise retreating
southwards during the absence of the salt caravan.
[Illustration]
_Monday, December 16._—On starting this morning we were glad to find some
variety in the vegetation; for instead of the monotonous talha-trees,
which with some justice have been called “vegetable mummies,” the whole
valley-plain was adorned with beautiful spreading addwa- or tabórak-trees
(the _Balanites Ægyptiaca_), the foliage of which often reached down to
the very ground, forming a dense canopy of the freshest green. After
winding along and crossing and recrossing the small channel, the path
ascended the rocky ground, and we soon got sight of the mountains of
Bághzen, looking out from behind the first mountain range, from whose
southern end a point called Ánfisék rises to a considerable elevation.
This higher level, however, was not bare and naked, but overgrown with
the “knotted” grass bú rékkebah, and with the addwa- and gawo-tree, while
on our left the broad but nevertheless sharply marked peak of Mount Mári
towered over the whole, and gave to the landscape a peculiar character.
At an early hour we encamped between buttresses of scattered blocks
shooting out of the plain, which seems to stretch to the very foot of the
Bághzen, and to be noted pre-eminently as the Plain, “erárar.”
In the afternoon I walked to a considerable distance, first to a hill
south-west from our camp, from which I was able to take several angles,
and then to the well. The latter was at the distance of a mile and a half
from our tent in a westerly direction, and was carefully walled up with
stones; it measured three fathoms and a half to the surface of the water,
while the depth of the water itself was at present little less than three
fathoms, so that it is evident that there is water here at all seasons.
Its name is Albes. As, on account of our slow travelling, we had been
four days without water, the meeting with a well was rather agreeable to
us. Between the well and the foot of the mountain there was a temporary
encampment of shepherds, who sent a sheep and a good deal of cheese to
the old chief.
Here we remained the two following days, in order to repose from the
fatigue of our sham travelling! I went once more all over my Emgédesi
collection, and made a present to the servants of the mission, of
twenty-two zékkas of Bílma dates, which I bought from the people of
the caravan; they were all thankful for this little present. I was
extremely glad to find that even the Tunisian shushán, when he had to
receive orders only from me, behaved much better; and I wrote from his
recital a Góber story which, as being characteristic of the imagination
of the natives, and illustrating their ancient Pagan worship of the
dodó, might perhaps prove of interest even to the general reader. The
several divisions of the “aïri” came slowly up; among them we observed
the Kél-azanéres, the people of Lúsu, the chief himself having gone on in
advance, as I observed above.
_Thursday, Dec. 19._—Our heavy caravan at length set out again, the
camels having now recovered a little from the trying march over the
naked desert which divides the mountainous district of Asben from the
“hénderi-Tedá,” the fertile hollow of the Tébu country. It attracted my
attention that the shrubby and thick-leaved “allwot” (the blue _Cucifera_
mentioned before) had ceased altogether; even the eternal bú rékkebah
began to be scarce, while only a few solitary trees were scattered about.
While marching over this dreary plain, we noticed some Tébu merchants,
natives of Dírki, with only three camels, who had come with the salt
caravan from Bílma, and were going to Kanó; from them we learnt that a
Tébu caravan had started from Kawár for Bórnu at the time of the ʿAïd el
kebír. The example of these solitary travellers, indeed, might perhaps be
followed with advantage by Europeans also, in order to avoid the country
of the Azkár and the insecure border districts of the Kél-owí, especially
if they chose to stay in the Tébu oasis till they had obtained the
protection of one of the great men of this country. For a little while
the plain was adorned with talha-trees; but then it became very rugged,
like a rough floor of black basalt, through which wound a narrow path,
pressing the whole caravan into one long string. At length, at half-past
two o’clock in the afternoon, after having traversed extremely rugged
ground, we began to descend from this broad basaltic level, and having
crossed the dry watercourse of a winter torrent, entered the valley
Télliya, which has a good supply of trees, but very little herbage. A
cemetery here gave indication of the occasional or temporary residence of
nomadic settlers.
On ascending again from the bottom of the valley to a higher level,
and looking backwards, we obtained a fine view of Mount Ajúri, at the
foot of which lies Chémia, a valley and village celebrated for its
date-trees. It was not our fate to see any of those places in Asben
which are distinguished by the presence of this tree—neither the valley
just mentioned, nor Iferwán, nor Ir-n-Allem; and a visit to them will
form one of the interesting objects of some future traveller in this
country. Having kept along the plain for an hour, we encamped at a
little distance west from the dry bed of a watercourse running from
north to south along the eastern foot of a low basaltic ridge, with a
fine display of trees, but a scanty one of herbage. I went to ascend the
ridge, supposing it to be connected with the Bághzen, but found that it
was completely separated from the latter by a depression or hollow quite
bare and naked.
[Illustration]
This was the best point from whence to obtain a view over the eastern
flank of Mount Bághzen, with its deep crevices or ravines, which seemed
to separate the mountain mass into several distinct groups; and in the
evening I made the sketch of it given here.
However, we had full leisure to contemplate this mountain, which is
not distinguished by great elevation, the highest peaks being little
more than two thousand feet above the plain; but it is interesting, as
consisting probably of basaltic formation. We stayed here longer than we
desired, as we did not find an opportunity to penetrate into the glens
in its interior, which, from this place seem excessively barren, but
are said to contain some favoured and inhabited spots, where even corn
is reared. But our companions spoke with timorous exclamations of the
numbers of lions which infest these retired mountain passes, and not one
of them would offer himself as a companion. The reason of our longer stay
in this place was that our camels had strayed to a very great distance
southwards, so that they could not be found in the forenoon of the
following day. The blame of letting them stray was thrown upon Hassan,
whose inferiority as a drummer I had occasion to notice above. How he
was punished Mr. Richardson has described; and I will only add that the
handkerchief which he paid was to be given to the “serkí-n-kárfi” (“the
taskmaster,” properly “the master of the iron” or “of the force”); but
the whole affair was rather a piece of pleasantry.
In the morning Mghás, the chief of Téllwa, a fine, sturdy man, mounted
upon a strong grey horse, passed by, going southward, followed by a
long string of camels; and shortly afterwards a small caravan of people
of Selúfiet, who had bought corn in Damerghú, passed in the opposite
direction.
_Saturday, Dec. 21._—The weather was clear and cheerful, and the sun was
warmer than hitherto. We went on, and approached a district more favoured
by nature, when, having passed an irregular formation in a state of great
decomposition, we reached, about ten o’clock, the valley Unán, or rather
a branch wady of the chief valley of that name, where dúm-palms began to
appear, at first solitary and scattered about, but gradually forming a
handsome grove, particularly after the junction with the chief valley,
where a thick cluster of verdure, formed by a variety of trees, greeted
the eye. There is also a village of the name of Unán, lying on the border
of the principal valley a little higher up, and wells occur in different
spots. But the valley was not merely rich in vegetation—it was the
richest, indeed, as yet seen on this road—it was also enlivened by man;
and after we had met two Íghdalén whom I had known in Ágades, we passed
a large troop of Ikádmawen, who were busy watering their camels, cattle,
and goats at one of the wells. We also saw here the first specimens of
stone houses which characterize the district to which the valley Unán
forms the entrance-hall, if I may use the expression. On its western side
is an irregular plain, where a division of the salt caravan lay encamped.
Proceeding then, after midday we passed by a low white cone on our left,
after which the valley, with its variety of vegetation, and animated as
it was by numerous herds of goats, made a cheerful impression. Here the
remains of stone dwellings became numerous, and further on we passed an
entire village consisting of such houses, which, as I was distinctly
informed, constituted in former times one of the principal settlements of
the Kél-gerés, who were then masters of all the territory as far as the
road to Ágades. The whole valley here formed a thick grove of dúm-palms,
and stone houses, entire or in ruins, were scattered all about. About
three o’clock in the afternoon we left it for an hour, traversing a rocky
flat with a low ridge of basalt ranging on our right, when we descended
again into the dúm valley, which had been winding round on the same side,
and encamped, at half-past four o’clock in the afternoon, in the midst
of very wild and rank vegetation, nourished by an immense torrent, which
occasionally rolls its floods along the channel, and which had left, on
the stems of the baggarúwa-trees with which it was lined, evident traces
of the depth which it may sometimes attain. The bed of the torrent was
thickly overgrown with wild melons.
Although there is no well in the neighbourhood, we were to stay here the
two following days, in order to give the camels a good feed. A well,
called Tánis-n-tánode, lies lower down the valley, but at a considerable
distance. The valley itself runs south-westward: by some it is said to
join the Erázar-n-Bargót; but this seems scarcely possible. Numerous
flocks of wild pigeons passed over our heads the following morning,
looking for water. The monotony of the halt was interrupted, in the
course of the day, by the arrival of Hámma, who had been to Afasás,
and by that of Astáfidet, the young titular Kél-owí chief residing in
Ásodi, among whose companions or followers was a very intelligent and
communicative man of the name of el Hasár, who gave me a great deal of
interesting information. All the eminences in the neighbourhood consist
of basaltic formation.
_Tuesday, Dec. 24._—We again moved on a little, following the rich
valley, which in some places reminded me of the scenery of the Upper
Nile, the only difference being that here the broad sandy bottom of the
watercourse takes the place of the fine river in the scenery of Nubia.
We made a short halt on the road, in order to supply ourselves with
water from the well which I mentioned before. About noon the fresh,
fleshy allwot, which had not been observed by us for several days, again
appeared, to the great delight of the camels, which like it more than
anything else, and, having been deprived of it for some time, attacked it
with the utmost greediness. Two miles and a half further on, where the
valley widened to a sort of irregular plain with several little channels,
we encamped; there was a profusion of herbage all around.
It was Christmas Eve, but we had nothing to celebrate it with, and we
were cast down by the sad news of the appearance of the cholera in
Tripoli. This we had learned during our march, from a small caravan
which had left that place three months previously without bringing us a
single line, or even as much as a greeting. The eternal bitter “túwo”
was to be devoured to-day also, as we had no means of adding a little
festivity to our repast. We remained here the two following days, and
were entertained on the morning of Christmas Day by a performance
of Astáfidet’s musicians. This was a somewhat cheerful holiday
entertainment, although our visitors had not that object in view, but
merely plied their talents to obtain a present. There were only two of
them, a drummer and a flautist; and though they did not much excel the
other _virtuosi_ of the country, whose abilities we had already tested,
nevertheless, having regard to the occasion, we were greatly pleased with
them. Here I took leave of my best Kél-owí friend, Hámma, a trustworthy
man in every respect—except, perhaps, as regards the softer sex—and a
cheerful companion, to whom the whole mission, and I in particular, were
under great obligations. He, as well as Mohammed Byrji, the youthful
grandson of Ánnur, who accompanied him on this occasion, were to return
hence with Astáfidet, in order to assist this young titular prince in
his arduous task of maintaining order in the country during the absence
of the old chief and the greater part of the male population of the
north-eastern districts. They were both cheerful, though they felt some
sorrow at parting; but they consoled themselves with the hope of seeing
me again one day. But, poor fellows, they were both doomed to fall in the
sanguinary struggle which broke out between the Kél-gerés and the Kél-owí
in 1854.