SETTING OUT ON MY JOURNEY TO ÁDAMÁWA.—THE FLAT SWAMPY GROUNDS OF BÓRNU.
_Thursday, May 29._—At four o’clock in the afternoon I left the “chínna
ánumbe,” the southern gate of Kúkawa, on my adventurous journey to
Ádamáwa. My little troop was not yet all collected. For being extremely
poor at the time, or rather worse than poor, as I had nothing but
considerable debts, I had cherished the hope that I should be able to
carry all my luggage on one camel; but when the things were all packed
up, provisions, cooking utensils, tent, and a few presents, I saw that
the one weak animal which I had was not enough, and bought another of
Mr. Overweg, which had first to be fetched from the pasture-ground. I
therefore left two servants and my old experienced Háusa warrior, the
Mʿallem Katúri, whom, as I have stated above, I had expressly hired for
this journey, behind me in the town, in order to follow us in the night
with the other camel.
Mr. Overweg, attended by a spirited little fellow, named ʿAli, a native
of Ghát, who had brought his luggage from Kanó, accompanied me. But
the most conspicuous person in our troop was Bíllama,[52] the officer
whom the sheikh had appointed to accompany me, a tall, handsome Bórnu
man, mounted on a most splendid grey horse of great size, and of a very
quick pace. He had two servants with him, besides a man of Mʿala Ibrám,
likewise mounted on horseback, who was to accompany us as far as the
Marghí country. The messengers from Ádamáwa, as we proceeded onward,
gradually collected together from the hamlets about, where they had
been waiting for us, and the spearmen among them saluted me by raising
their spears just in my face, and beating their small round hippopotamus
shields; Mohámmedu was armed with a sword and bow and arrows. They had
not been treated so well as, with reference to my prospects, the sheikh
ought to have treated them, and Íbrahíma, instead of a handsome horse
which was promised to him, had received a miserable poor mare, quite
unfit for himself, and scarcely capable of carrying his little son and
his small provision bag.
As soon as I had left the town behind me, and saw that I was fairly
embarked in my undertaking, I indulged in the most pleasant feelings. I
had been cherishing the plan of penetrating into those unknown countries
to the south for so long a time, that I felt the utmost gratification
in being at length able to carry out my design. At that time I even
cherished the hope that I might succeed in reaching Báya, and thus extend
my inquiries even as far as the equator; but my first design was, and had
always been, to decide by ocular evidence the question with regard to the
direction and the tributaries of the great river which flowed through the
country in the south.
Leaving the Ngórnu road to our left, we reached the village Kába at
sunset, but were received so inhospitably, that, after much opposition
from a quarrelsome old woman, we took up our quarters not inside, but
outside, her courtyard, and with difficulty obtained a little fire, with
which we boiled some coffee, but had not firewood enough for cooking a
supper, so that we satisfied our appetite with cold “díggwa,” a sweetmeat
made of meal, honey, and butter. The inhabitants of the villages at no
great distance from the capital are generally very inhospitable; but the
traveller will find the same in any country.
_Friday, May 30._—At an early hour we were ready to resume our march,
not having even pitched a tent during the night. The morning was very
fine; and, in comparison with the naked and bare environs of the capital,
the country seemed quite pleasant to me, although the flora offered
scarcely anything but stunted acacias of the gáwo and kindíl kind, while
dúm-bush and the _Asclepias procera_ formed the underwood, and coarse
dry grass full of “ngíbbu” or _Pennisetum distichum_ covered the ground.
Now and then a fine tamarind-tree interrupted this monotony, and formed
a landmark; indeed both the well which we passed (Tamsúkú-korí) and the
village Tamsúkwá, have received their names from this most beautiful and
useful tree, which in Kanúri is called tamsúku or temsúku.
After only four hours’ march we halted near the village Pírtwa, as Mr.
Overweg was now to return, and as I wished my other people now to come
up. Having long tried in vain to buy some provisions with our “kúngona”
or shells, Mr. Overweg at length succeeded in purchasing a goat with his
servant’s shirt. This article, even if much worn, is always regarded as
ready money in the whole of Negroland; and as long as a man has a shirt
he is sure not to starve. Afterwards the inhabitants of the village
brought us several bowls of “bírri,” or porridge of Negro corn; and we
employed ourselves in drinking coffee and eating, till it was time for
Mr. Overweg to depart, when we separated with the most hearty wishes
for the success of each other’s enterprise: for we had already fully
discussed his undertaking to navigate the lagoon in the English boat.
We then started at a later hour, and, following a more westerly path,
took up our night’s quarters at Dýnnamarí, the village of Dynnama or
Ámade. Instead of this most westerly road, my people had taken the most
easterly; and we at length joined them, a little before noon of the
following day, at the village Úlo Kurá, which, with the whole district,
belongs to the “Mágirá” (the mother of the sheikh), and so forms a
distinct domain called “Mágirári.” But the country for thirty or forty
miles round Kúkawa is intersected by so many paths, that it is very
difficult for parties to meet, if the place of rendezvous has not been
precisely indicated. The country hereabouts at this time of the year
presents a most dreary appearance, being full of those shallow hollows of
deep-black argillaceous soil called “fírki” by the Kanúri, and “ghadír”
by the Arabs, which during the rainy season form large ponds of water,
and when the rainy season draws to an end, and the water decreases,
afford the most excellent soil for the cultivation of the “másakwá,” a
species of holcus (_H. cernuus_), which constitutes a very important
article of cultivation in these alluvial lowlands round the Tsád, or
even for wheat. At a later season, after the grain is harvested, these
hollows, being sometimes of an immense extent, and quite bare and naked,
give the country a most dismal appearance. The water in Úlo Kurá was
extremely disagreeable, owing to this nature of the ground.
Continuing our march in the afternoon, after the heat had decreased, we
passed, after about four miles, the first encampment of Shúwa, or berí
Shúwabe, which I had yet seen in the country. Shúwa is a generic name,
denoting all the Arabs (or rather eastern Arabs) settled in Bórnu, and
forming a component part of the population of the country; in Bagírmi
they are called Shíwa. No Arab from the coast is ever denoted by this
name; but his title is Wásirí, or Wásilí. This native Arab population
appears to have immigrated from the east at a very early period, although
at present we have no direct historical proof of the presence of these
Arabs in Bórnu before the time of Edrís Alawóma, about two hundred and
fifty years ago.
Of the migration of these Arabs from the east, there cannot be the
least doubt. They have advanced gradually through the eastern part of
Negroland, till they have overspread this country, but without proceeding
further towards the west. Their dialect is quite different from the
Mághrebí, while in many respects it still preserves the purity and
eloquence of the language of Hijáz, particularly as regards the final
vowels in the conjugation. Many of their national customs, also, still
point to their ancient settlements, as we shall see further on. I became
very intimate with these people at a later period, by taking into my
service a young Shúwa lad, who was one of my most useful servants on my
journey to Timbúktu. These Shúwa are divided into many distinct families
or clans, and altogether may form in Bórnu a population of from 200,000
to 250,000 souls, being able to bring into the field about 20,000 light
cavalry. Most of them have fixed villages, where they live during the
rainy season, attending the labours of the field, while during the
remaining part of the year they wander about with their cattle. I shall
say more about them in the course of my proceedings, as opportunity
occurs. The clan, whose encampment or berí we passed to-day, are
generally called Kárda by the Bórnu people—I cannot say why,[53]—while
their indigenous name, “Bajáudi,” seems to indicate an intermixture with
the Fúlbe or Felláta, with whom the Shúwa in general are on the most
friendly terms, and may often be confounded with them on account of the
similarity of their complexion and manners. In fact, there is no doubt
that it was the Shúwa who prepared and facilitated the settlement of the
Fúlbe or Felláta in Bórnu.
We took up our quarters for the night in one of the four clusters of
huts which form the village Múngholo Gezáwa, and which, by the neatness
and cleanliness of its yards and cottages, did honour to its lord, the
vizier of Bórnu. It was here that I first observed several small pools
of rain-water, which bore testimony to the greater intensity and the
earlier setting in of the rainy season in these regions. There were also
great numbers of waterfowl seen hereabouts.
_Sunday, June 1._—When we left our quarters in the morning we hesitated a
while as to what road to take, whether that by “Múbiyó,” or that by “Úda”
or “Wúda”; but at length we decided for the latter. The country exhibited
a peculiar but not very cheerful character, the ground consisting, in
the beginning, of white clay, and further on of a soil called “gárga”
by the Kanúri people, and now and then quite arid and barren, while at
other times it was thickly overgrown with prickly underwood, with a
tamarind-tree shooting up here and there. We then came to a locality
covered with a dense forest, which at a later period in the rainy season
forms one continuous swamp, but at present was dry, with the exception
of some deep hollows already filled with water. Here we found some of
the inhabitants of the district, all of whom are Shúwa, busy in forming
watering-places for their cattle, by enclosing circular hollows with low
dykes. One of these people was of a complexion so light as to astonish
me; indeed, he was no darker than my hands and face, and perhaps even a
shade lighter: his features were those of the Shúwa in general, small and
handsome; his figure slender. The general size of these Arabs does not
exceed five feet and a half, but they look much taller, on account of
the peculiar slenderness of their forms; for although I have seen many
specimens of stout Fúlbe, I have scarcely ever seen one robust Shúwa. The
forest was enlivened by numberless flocks of wild pigeons.
We then emerged into a more open country, passing several villages of a
mixed population, half of them being Shúwa, the other half Kanúri. All
their huts have a thatched roof of a perfectly spherical shape, quite
distinct from the general form of huts in this country, the top, or “kógi
ngímbe,” being entirely wanting. One of these villages, called Dásedísk,
is well remembered by the people on account of the sheikh, Mohammed el
Kánemi, having been once encamped in its neighbourhood. At a rather early
hour we halted for the heat of the day in a village called Ménoway, where
an old decrepit Shúwa from Úda, led by his equally aged and faithful
better-half, came to me in quest of medicine for his infirmities. To my
great vexation, a contribution of several fowls was laid by my companions
upon the villagers for my benefit; and I had to console an old blind
man, who stumbled about in desperate search after his cherished hen.
There was a numerous herd of cattle just being watered at the two wells
of the village. Starting again in the afternoon, we reached one of the
hamlets forming the district Magá just in time to avoid the drenching of
a violent storm which broke forth in the evening. But the lanes formed
by the fences of the yards were so narrow that we had the greatest
difficulty in making our camels pass through them—an inconvenience which
the traveller experiences very often in these countries, where the camel
is not the indigenous and ordinary beast of burden. The well here was
nine fathoms deep.
_Monday, June 2._—Starting tolerably early, we reached, after two miles,
an extensive fírki, the black boggy soil of which, now dry, showed a
great many footprints of the giraffe. This I thought remarkable at the
moment, but still more so when, in the course of my travels, I became
aware how very rarely this animal, which roams over the extensive and
thinly inhabited plains on the border of Negroland, is found within the
populous districts. This “fírki” was the largest I had yet seen, and
exceeded three miles in length. Much rain had already fallen hereabouts;
and further on, near a full pond, we observed two wild hogs (gadó), male
(bí) and female (kúrgurí), running one after the other. This also was a
new sight for me, as heretofore I had scarcely seen a single specimen
of this animal in this part of the world; but afterwards I found that,
in the country between this and Bagírmi, this animal lives in immense
numbers. We here overtook a small troop of native traders, or “tugúrchi,”
with sumpter-oxen laden with natron, while another with unloaded beasts
was just returning from Ujé. A good deal of trade is carried on in this
article with the last-named place.
Having gone on in advance of the camels with Bíllama and Mʿallem Katúri, I
waited a long time under a splendid “chédia,” or “jéja” (the Háusa name),
the caoutchouc-tree, indicating the site of a large town of the Gámerghú,
called Muná (which has been destroyed by the Fúlbe or Felláta), expecting
our people to come up, as we intended to leave the direct track and go
to a neighbouring village, wherein to spend the hot hours of the day;
but as they delayed too long, we thought we might give them sufficient
indication of our having left the road by laying a fresh branch across
it. This is a very common practice in this country; but it requires
attention on the part of those who follow, and may sometimes lead to
confusion. On one occasion, when I had, in like manner, gone on in
advance of my people, a second party of horsemen, who had likewise left
their people behind, came between me and my baggage-train, and, as they
were pursuing a bye-way, they laid a branch across the chief road; my
people, on coming up to the branch, thought that it was laid by me, and,
following the bye-way, caused much delay. Other people make a mark with
a spear. I and my horsemen went to the village and lay down in the cool
shade of a tamarind-tree; but we soon became convinced that our people
had not paid attention to the mark. With difficulty we obtained something
to eat from the villagers.
The heat had been very oppressive; and we had just mounted our horses
when a storm broke out in the south, but fortunately without reaching us.
Proceeding at a swift pace, we found our people encamped in a village
called Íbramrí, and, having roused them, immediately continued our march.
Beyond this village I observed the first cotton-field occurring on this
road. The country was thickly inhabited, and gave evidence of a certain
degree of industry; in the village Bashírorí I observed a dyeing-place.
The country was laid out in cornfields of considerable extent, which had
just been sown. All this district then belonged to Mestréma, as an estate
in fee; but after the revolution of 1854, this man was disgraced and the
estate taken from him.
I had already felt convinced that the kúka, or _Adansonia digitata_, is
one of the commonest trees of Negroland; but all the numerous specimens
which I had hitherto seen of this colossal tree were leafless, forming
rather gloomy and unpleasant objects: here, however, I saw it for the
first time adorned with leaves; and though the foliage seemed to bear
no proportion to the colossal size of the boughs, yet the tree had a
much more cheerful aspect. We took up our quarters for the night in Ujé
Maídugurí, a large and comfortable-looking place, such as I had not yet
met with since I left Kúkawa; but the yard, which was assigned to us by
the slaves of Mestréma, was in the very worst state, and I was obliged
to pitch my tent. However, we were hospitably treated, and fowls and a
sheep, as well as bírri, were brought to us.
We had now reached one of the finest districts of Bórnu, which is
collectively called Ujé, but which really comprises a great many places
of considerable size. This was once the chief province of the Gámerghú,
a tribe often mentioned in the history of Edrís Alawóma, and who, as
their language shows, are closely related to the Wándalá or, as they
are generally called, Mándara.[54] This tribe has at present lost all
national independence, while its brethren in Morá and the places around,
protected by the mountainous character of the country, still maintain
their freedom against the Kanúri and Fúlbe, but, as it seems, will soon
be swallowed up by the latter. While the greater part of the Gámerghú
have been exterminated, the rest are heavily taxed, although the tribute
which they have to deliver to the sheikh himself consists only in
butter. Every large place in this district has a market of its own; but
a market of very considerable importance is held in Ujé, and is from
this circumstance called Ujé Kásukulá—“kásukú” means “the market.” In
Ujé Maídugurí a market is held every Wednesday on the west side of the
town, where a small quadrangular area is marked out with several rows
of stalls or sheds. The place was once surrounded by an earthen wall,
the circumference of which seems to show its greater magnitude in former
times.
Escorted by a troop of Mestréma’s idle servants, we entered, on the
following morning, the fine open country which stretches out on the
south side of Maídugurí. The whole plain appeared to be one continuous
cornfield, interrupted only by numerous villages, and shaded here and
there by single monkey-bread-trees, or Adansonias, and various species of
fig-trees, such as the ngábbore, with their succulent dark-green foliage,
and báure with large fleshy leaves of a bright-green colour. Since I
left Kanó I had not seen so fine a country. The plain is traversed by a
large fiumara or komádugu, which comes from the neighbourhood of Aláwó,
where there is a great collection of water, and reaches the Tsád by way
of Díkowa, Nghála, and Mbulú. At the three latter places I have crossed
it myself in the course of my travels; and between Ujé and Díkowa it has
been visited by Mr. Vogel, but I do not know whether he is able to lay
down its course with accuracy.
We had to cross the watercourse twice before we reached Mábaní, a
considerable place situated on a broad sandy hill, at a distance of
little more than four miles from Maídugurí. To my great astonishment, at
so early an hour in the morning, my party proceeded to take up quarters
here; but the reason was, that the messengers from Ádamáwa had to inquire
hereabouts for some of the people, who, as I have stated before, had been
carried away by Kashélla ʿAli. However, in the absence of the bíllama
or head man of the town, a long time elapsed before we could procure
quarters; but at length we succeeded in obtaining a sort of open yard,
with two huts and two stalls, or “fáto síggidibé,” when I gave up the
huts to my companions, and took possession of the best of the stalls,
near which I pitched my tent. The town covers not only the whole top of
the hill, but, descending its southern slope, extends along its foot and
over another hill of less size. It may contain from nine to ten thousand
inhabitants, and seems to be prosperous; indeed all the dwellings,
despicable as they may appear to the fastidious European, bear testimony
to a certain degree of ease and wealth; and few people here seem
destitute of the necessaries of life. Besides agriculture, there appears
to be a good deal of domestic industry, as the market-place, situated on
the eastern slope of the hill, and consisting of from a hundred and fifty
to two hundred stalls, and a dyeing-place close by it, amply testify. I
have already mentioned in another place the shirts which are dyed in this
district, and which are called “ámaghdí.”
When the heat had abated a little I made a pleasant excursion on
horseback, accompanied by Bíllama and Bú-Sʿad, first in an easterly
direction, through the plain to a neighbouring village, and then turning
northward to the komádugu, which forms here a beautiful sweep, being
lined on the north side by a steep grassy bank adorned with fine trees.
The southern shore was laid out in kitchen-gardens, where, a little
further in the season, wheat and onions are grown. In the bottom of the
fiumara we found most delicious water only a foot and a half beneath the
surface of the sand, while the water which we obtained in the town, and
which was taken from the pools at the foot of the hill, was foul and
offensive. These pools are enlivened by a great number of waterfowl,
chiefly herons and flamingoes.
The forenoon of Wednesday also I gave up to the solicitation of my
Ádamáwa companions, and usefully employed my time in writing “bolíde
Fulfúlde,” or the language of the Fúlbe, and more particularly the
dialect spoken in Ádamáwa, which is indeed very different from the
Fulfúlde spoken in Góber and Kébbi. Meanwhile old Mʿallem Katúri was
bitten by a scorpion, and I had to dress the wound with a few drops of
ammonia, for which he was very grateful.
In the afternoon we pursued our march; and I then became aware that we
had made a great _détour_, Maídugurí, as well as Mábaní, not lying on
the direct route. We had been joined in the latter place by a party of
“pilgrim traders” from the far-distant Másena, or, as in European maps
the name is generally written, Massina, on their home-journey from Mekka,
who excited much interest in me. The chief person among them was a native
of Hamd-Alláhi, the capital of the new Púllo kingdom of Mélle, or Másena,
who carried with him a considerable number of books, which he had bought
in the east more for the purposes of trade than for his own use. He was
mounted on a camel, but had also a pack-ox laden with salt, which he
had been told he might dispose of to great advantage in Ádamáwa. Thus
pilgrims are always trading in these countries. But this poor man was not
very successful; for his books were partly spoiled in crossing the river
Bénuwé, and his camel died during the rainy season in Ádamáwa. However,
he thence continued his journey homewards, while his four companions
returned eastward and met with me once more in Logón, and the last time
on the banks of the Shári. Two of them were mounted on fine asses, which
they had brought with them from Dár-Fúr.
Our way led us through a populous and fertile country, first along the
meandering course of the komádugu, which was here lined with ngábbore
or _ficus_, and with the birgim or diña (as it is called in Háusa), a
tree attaining a height of from thirty to forty feet, but not spreading
wide, with leaves of a darkish green, and fruit like a small plum, but
less soft, and of a black colour, though it was not yet ripe. Here I
was greeted by the cheerful sight of the first corn-crop of the season
which I had yet seen—having lately sprung up, and adorning the fields
with its lively fresh green. Rain had been very copious hereabouts; and
several large pools were formed along the komádugu, in which the boys of
the neighbouring villages were catching small fish three or four inches
long, while in other places the banks of the river were overgrown with
beautifully fresh grass. Having crossed and re-crossed the fiumara, we
ascended its steep left bank, which in some places exhibited regular
strata of sandstone. Here we passed a little dyeing-yard of two or three
pots, while several small patches of indigo were seen at the foot of the
bank, and a bustling group of men and cattle gathered round the well.
Villages were seen lying about in every direction; and single cottages,
scattered about here and there, gave evidence of a sense of security.
The cornfields were most agreeably broken by tracts covered with the
bushes of the wild gónda, which has a most delicious fruit, of a fine
cream-like taste, and of the size of a peach, a great part of which,
however, is occupied by the stone. The country through which we passed
was so interesting to me, and my conversation with my Háusa mʿallem about
the labours of the field so animated, that we made a good stretch without
being well aware of it, and took up our quarters in a place called
Pálamarí when it was already dark. However, our evening rest passed less
agreeably than our afternoon’s ride, owing to a violent conjugal quarrel
in an adjoining cottage, the voices of the leading pair in the dispute
being supported by the shrill voices of village gossips.
_Thursday, June 5._—In riding through the village, as we set out in
the morning, I observed that the yards were unusually spacious, and
the cottages very large; but it struck me that I did not see a single
“bóngo,” or hut of clay walls, and I thought myself justified in drawing
the conclusion that the inhabitants must find shelter enough under their
light thatched walls, and consequently that the rainy season is moderate
here.
We had scarcely emerged from the narrow lanes of the village, when I was
gratified with the first sight of the mountainous region; it was Mount
Deládebá or Dalántubá, which appeared towards the south, and the sight
of which filled my heart with joyous anticipations not unlike those with
which, on my first wandering in 1840, I enjoyed the distant view of the
Tyrolean Alps from the village Semling, near Munich. But our march was
but a pretence; we had not been a full hour on the road, crossing a
country adorned chiefly with the bushes of the wild gónda, when Bíllama
left the path and entered the village Fúgo Mozári. The reason was, that
to-day (Thursday) the market was held in the neighbouring Ujé Kasúkulá,
and it was essential that some of our party should visit, or (to use
their expression) “eat” this market.
However, I did not stay long in our quarters, which, though comfortable,
were rather close, and of an extremely labyrinthine character, being
divided into several small yards separated from each other by narrow
passages enclosed with high síggedí mats. After a brief delay I
mounted again with Bíllama and Bú-Sʿad and after two miles reached the
market-town, crossing on our path a shallow branch of the komádugu,
overgrown with succulent herbage, and exhibiting a scene of busy life.
The market was already well attended, and answered to its fame. As it is
held every Thursday and Sunday, it is visited not only by people from
Kúkawa, but also from Kanó, for which reason European as well as Háusa
manufactures are often cheaper in Ujé than in Kúkawa. This we found
to be the case with common paper, “tre lune.” The articles with which
the market is provided from Kúkawa are chiefly natron and salt; and I
myself bought here a good supply of this latter article, as it has a
great value in Ádamáwa, and may be used as well for buying small objects
as for presents. Ujé, however, derives also great importance from the
slave-trade, situated as it is on the border of several pagan tribes; and
I have often heard it said that in the neighbourhood of Ujé a husband
will sell his wife, or a father his child, when in want of money; but
this may be an exaggeration. It is true, however, that slaves who have
run away from Kúkawa are generally to be found here. There might be
from five to six thousand customers; but there would be many more, if
any security were guaranteed to the visitors, from the many independent
tribes who are living round about, especially the Marghí, Bábir, and
Kerékeré. But, as it is, I did not see a single individual in the market
who by his dress did not bear testimony to his Mohammedan profession.
Making several times the round of the market, I greatly excited the
astonishment of the native traders, who had never seen a European. I
then started with Bíllama on an excursion to Aláwó, the burial place of
the great Bórnu king Edrís Alawóma, although the weather was extremely
sultry, and the sun almost insupportable. The whole country is densely
inhabited; and my companion, who had formerly been governor of the
district, was everywhere kindly saluted by the inhabitants, particularly
the women, who would kneel down by the roadside to pay him their
respects. However, I was prevented from seeing the sepulchre itself
by an immense morass extending in front of the town of Aláwó, and the
turning of which would have demanded a great circuit. Numberless flocks
of waterfowl enlivened it, while rank herbage and dense forest bordered
it all round.
We therefore thought it better to return, particularly as a storm was
evidently gathering; but we first went to an encampment of Shúwa, where
we found a numerous family engaged, under the shade of a wide-spreading
ngábbore, in all the various occupations of household work; but we were
very inhospitably received when we begged for something to drink. I
shall often have occasion to mention the inhospitality of these people,
whom I was sometimes inclined to take for Jews by descent, rather than
real Arabs. Passing then the village Pálamarí, and keeping along the
lovely bed of the fiumara, bordered by fine wide-spreading trees, and
richly overgrown with succulent grass, upon which numbers of horses were
feeding, we reached our quarters just in time; for shortly afterwards the
storm, which had been hanging in the air the whole day, and had made the
heat about noon more insupportable than I ever felt it in my life, came
down with considerable violence. The consequence was that I was driven
from the cool shed which I had occupied in the morning, into the interior
of a hut, where flies and bugs molested me greatly. The sheds or stalls,
which are often made with great care, but never waterproof, have the
great inconvenience in the rainy season, that while they do not exclude
the rain, they retain the humidity, and at the same time shut out the air
from the huts to which they are attached.
In the course of the day we obtained the important news, that Mohammed
Láwl, the governor of Ádamáwa, had returned from his expedition
against the Bána, or rather Mbána, a tribe settled ten days’ march
north-eastward from Yóla, but at less distance from Ujé. Bíllama gave me
much interesting information about the country before us, chiefly with
reference to Sugúr, a powerful and entirely independent pagan chief in
the mountains south from Mándará. With regard to this latter country, I
perceived more clearly, as I advanced, what a small province it must be,
comprehending little more than the capital and a few hamlets lying close
around. There came to me also an intelligent-looking Púllo merchant, who
was trading between Kanó and Ujé along the route indicated above; but
unluckily he did not call on me until sunset, just as the prayer of the
almákárifú was approaching, and he did not return in the evening as I
wished him to do.