CHAPTER I.

Travels

OF

AN ARAB MERCHANT

IN SOUDAN

(THE BLACK KINGDOMS OF CENTRAL AFRICA).

I.—DARFUR.

II.—WADAÏ.

_ABRIDGED FROM THE FRENCH._

BY

BAYLE ST. JOHN,

AUTHOR OF “VILLAGE LIFE IN EGYPT,” “PURPLE TINTS OF PARIS,”

ETC. ETC.

* * * * *

LONDON:

CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193 PICCADILLY.

1854.

LONDON:

Printed by G. BARCLAY, Castle St. Leicester Sq.

PREFACE.

* * * * *

The following work is an abridgment of Dr. Perron’s French version of

the narrative, written in Arabic, by Sheikh Mohammed of Tunis, of his

journey to two of the most remarkable Black Kingdoms of Central

Africa. Dr. Perron’s work, ably edited by M. Jomard of the Institute,

is too voluminous to have obtained many readers in this country; but

it contains so much that is interesting, so fresh and peculiar a view

of manners, so many good stories and characteristic anecdotes, that I

have thought it worth while to reduce it to a more popular form. The

narrative bears witness itself to its own authenticity; but it is

further recommended to belief by the well-known and respectable

character of the writer, who is now reposing from his many fatigues in

a lucrative position, adapted to a learned man, in Cairo.[1]

As the narrative forms a complete autobiography, it is not necessary

to say more of the author, save that he was born in 1789, and

commenced his travels when a mere boy, inheriting, and always

preserving, the character of a trader. All his allusions to well-known

public characters and events have been examined, and found to be

correct; so that it is fair to accept his testimony on other points.

He travelled with peculiar advantages in countries, one of which,

Darfur, has been only once visited by a European, namely, Brown, in

1793; whilst the other has never been described, except in this

instance, by an eyewitness. Accurate geographical details are, of

course, not to be expected from the Sheikh. He writes from memory, and

from an Oriental point of view. But his descriptions of manners and

the general characteristics of tribes and regions are, to all

appearance, accurate. They are certainly interesting. The reader is

introduced at the very first page within the circle of Eastern life,

and learns by degrees to view facts, if not with Eastern eyes, at

least without the prejudices of an outside observer.

The countries described, though isolated both by position and policy,

are sufficiently remarkable not to deserve utter neglect. They form

part of the great system of states—black in population, but Mohammedan

in religion—which stretches like a belt across Central Africa, with

unexplored expanses of Paganism to the south, and to the north a

desert, dotted with oases, and marked with caravan tracks leading to

the Mediterranean. The valley of the Nile, which seems destined by

Nature to be the highroad to this region, is rendered comparatively

useless for that purpose by the restrictive regulations of Darfur.

That cautious little kingdom stops the way. It is so fearful of

aggression from Egypt—not entirely without cause—that it will not

allow the easiest routes to be used, and compels all caravans to reach

its frontiers exhausted by a two months’ march across the desert from

Siout.

The expedition sent by her Majesty’s government, under the late Mr.

Richardson—which already counts two martyrs—will have vastly enlarged

our knowledge of the largest, most populous, and most important

Central African kingdoms. Drs. Barth and Vogel are still making

gallant geographical forays towards the south—creating, as it were,

ground under their feet—for unexplored countries must be considered as

scientifically non-existing; whilst Mr. Petermann records their

triumphs; as they are won, with a pride which must soften opposition

and disarm criticism. His Atlas, however it may be modified by

subsequent exploration, is so far the best and completest portraiture

of Central Africa that we possess.

It is not probable, however, that the German travellers will be able

or willing to penetrate eastward across the kingdoms described in this

Volume, although Mr. Richardson had contemplated such a journey, and

had communicated, through government, with the English Consul-General

in Egypt, that the way might, to a certain extent, be prepared. I

believe it is still the practice, if not the rule, in Darfur, to

prevent all strangers who penetrate into the interior of the kingdom

from going away again. However, strong representations from Egypt

might have obviated this difficulty. At present we cannot expect the

experiment to be tried, as Dr. Barth seems to be directing his

attention to a still more difficult expedition; and it is extremely

probable that for many years to come the information contained in the

present Volume will not be superseded.

The Sheikh, in the course of his narrative, affords us a good deal of

information, which applies equally well to the present day, on the

state of slavery in the parts of Africa he visited. According to his

unconscious representation, the Mohammedan states which have formed on

the northern limits of Negroland have used the superior power they

have acquired from semi-civilisation as a means of preying on their

savage brethren. In England, forests have been said to be excrescences

of the earth given by God to men to pay their debts withal. In Africa,

the princes and great people regard their fellow-creatures in the same

light. This is, perhaps, the chief reason why those countries, in

spite of their natural advantages, remain in their present backward

state. There seems to be only one way to induce them to abandon their

man-hunting propensities,—namely, the development of regular commerce;

and there is ground for hoping that the progress of discovery may lead

to occasions of intercourse, and to the signing of treaties which may

cease some day to be mere inoperative documents. When we can safely

get at Central Africa, and discover some means of obtaining its

productions to meet a regular demand, it will be easy to divert its

population from what will then be the unprofitable employment of

stealing one another. It is on this ground that the exploration of its

water-outlets towards the Atlantic is so important.

Darfur and Wadaï, however, belong to Eastern Africa, the proper

approach to which is the Nile. If a regular government were

established in Egypt, exercising its authority firmly over the

southern provinces that now, for all practical purposes, are but

nominally subject, commerce would soon begin to flow in its natural

channel, and merchandise, which is now principally brought across the

desert, would be directed to the nearest point upon the Nile, which

would be soon laden with fleets of boats dropping down with the

current. There are the elements of an empire more important than

Hindustan, between Alexandria and the fourth parallel of North Latitude.

BAYLE ST. JOHN.

CONTENTS.

* * * * *

PART I.—DARFUR.

* * * * *

CHAPTER I.

Parentage of the Sheikh — His Grandfather starts on a Pilgrimage —

Adventures — Mekka — Jeddah — A Man from Sennaar — Departure for that

Country — Reception — Fate of his Family — Omar — His Pilgrimage — A

Meeting in the Desert — A Rendezvous — Omar is deceived by his Father

— Journeys to Sennaar — A Quarrel — He returns towards Egypt — The

Desert — Return to Tunis — Birth of the Sheikh — His Father settles in

Egypt — Goes again to Sennaar — The Sheikh at Cairo — Ahmed-el-Bedawee

— Preparations for Journey to Darfur — Departure

Page 1

CHAPTER II.

Fostat — The Nile — Reflections — Minieh — The Mamlooks — Siout —

Departure of the Caravan — The Oases — Kharjeh — Abyrys — Boulac —

Maks — Arid Desert — Wells and Rivers — Musical Stones — Selineh — A

Courier — Death of the King of Darfur — Natron Lakes of Zaghawy — Halt

— The last Stage over the Desert — Kind Treatment of the Sheikh —

Confines of Darfur — Separation of the Caravan — Congratulations of

the People — Visitors — Arrival of Strangers — Zarrouk, the Sheikh’s

Uncle — Obligations of Ahmed-el-Bedawee to Omar of Tunis — Departure

for Aboul-Joudoul — Kelkabieh — The Marrah Mountains — Meeting of

Father and Son — Feast — The Sultan and his Vizier — Visit to Tendelty

— Interview with Kourra

13

CHAPTER III.

Omar plans a Visit to Tunis — The Sheikh is established at

Aboul-Joudoul — Unfairly deserted by his Father — Insurrection of

Mohammed Kourra — His Death — Gallant Fight — Sketch of the History of

the Kings of Darfur — Tyrab — Anecdote of the Birguids — A Strange

Dowry — Story of the Sultan Abou-Bekr — True Love — Another Story of

Passion — Rise of Kourra — A black Economist — Expedition to Kordofal

— Its Origin — Designs of Tyrab — A Conspiracy against his Life —

Death of Ali Bargou — Diplomacy — Kourra and the chief Wife of Tyrab —

Plot — Death of Tyrab — Elevation of the Orphan

27

CHAPTER IV.

New Sultan — Anecdotes of the Orphan — Death of Izhak — Just

Administration — The Ulemas — A Mamlook Refugee — Conspiracy — How it

was defeated — The Reward of Kinaneh — An ignorant Vizier — Mohammed

Kourra — Instance of his great Wisdom — He is appointed Ab — Death of

Abd-er-Rahman — Fadhl succeeds to the Throne

43

CHAPTER V.

Line of African Kingdoms — Takrour — Description of Dar-el-Four —

Wandering Arabs — The Barajoub — The Forians — North-western Provinces

— Dajo and Bijo — Birguids — Marrah Mountaineers — Division of the

Country — Cavern Prisons — A Visit to the Marrah — Strange Inhabitants

— The Sheikh of the Mountain — Genii — Gathering of Guides — An

Oratory — Wild Savages — The Prisons — Women — Curious Customs —

Spirits called Damzog — Stories of them — Prophetic Drum

58

CHAPTER VI.

Philosophy of Geography — Absolute Authority of Princes — Order of

Succession — Old Women Counsellors — Strange Customs — Public

Audiences — Servility — Barbarian Etiquette — Clothing of the Buaso —

Superstitions — Festival of the Sowing — Court of Tendelty — A

Perilous Office — Taxes — King of the Buffoons — Birds of the South —

Music and Songs — Abd-er-Rahman and the Ulemas — The Yakoury — Queen

Mothers

75

CHAPTER VII.

The Fasher — The Ligdabeh — A Race — Audience on Horseback — Tendelty

— Fountains — Huts — The Palace — Police Regulations — Costume — The

Litham — Materials of Clothing — Women’s Dresses — Ornaments — Lovers

— Jealousy — Intercourse of the Sexes — A Story of Love — The Sultan’s

Interference — War against Drunkenness — Marriage Expenses — Strange

Customs — Buying a Wife — Betrothal

88

CHAPTER VIII.

Origin of Marriage — Apologue — Dowries — Ceremonies — Dances — Songs

— Formalities — Festivals — Domestic Etiquette — Zikrs — Jealousy —

Eunuchs — A Miracle — Impious Ab-Sheikh — The Sultan’s Wives — A

faithful Woman wanted — Arab Fidelity — The Queen Mother — An

Adventure — Beautiful Women — Qualities of Black Women

99

CHAPTER IX.

Mixed Marriages — A Malady in Darfur — Story of the Small-pox —

Diseases — Medicine — Birth — Education — Climate — Cause of

Depopulation — Food — Weykeh — Food of Poor — Hunting — Classes of

Hunters — Bedawin Arabs — Speculation in Ostrich Feathers — Milk —

Gold — Money — Salt — Apology for Money — Curious Money

117

CHAPTER X.

Productions of Darfur — Fruit — Trees — The Thlyleg — Nebks — The

Ochan — Horse-stealers — Medicinal Plants — Seasons — Wind and Rain —

Wonderful Plants — Herbalists — The Narrah — Its Magical Properties —

Strange Roots — Robbers — Buried Sacred Books — Sorcerers — A

wonderful Foulan — The Temourkehs — Strange Stories — A Slave-hunt in

Dar-Fertyt — Sand Diviners — Prophecies that came to pass

130

PART II.—WADAÏ.

* * * * *

CHAPTER I.

Long Residence of the Sheikh in Wadaï — Message from his Father — The

Sultan opposes his Departure — He is Imprisoned — His Slaves begin to

desert him — His hard Case — The Sultan going his rounds — He returns

to his Land — A King’s Journey — The Sheikh receives permission to

depart — Annoying Delays — March of an Army in the Desert — The

Travellers are abandoned — Night in the Wilderness — Wadaïans — Safe

Arrival and Reception

Page 143

CHAPTER II.

People of Wadaï — Historical Facts — Sultan Seleih — How his Dynasty

was founded — Abbaside descent — Boundary Mark in the Desert — Wars

between Darfur and Wadaï — A wise Vizier — Youth of Saboun — His

Schemes — How to win a Throne — A Sea of Blood — Fratricidal Battles —

The Victor and the Vanquished — Ferocious Conduct — The Afrits or

Robbers — A Brother still at large — He is taken and killed —

Pacification of Wadaï

167

CHAPTER III.

The Sultan of Bagirmeh — A Court of Birds of Prey — Saboun determines

to make a War — March over the Desert — Encounter with a Rhinoceros —

Punishment of Cowardice — Veneration for Sultans — A White Beard — The

Crown purifies — Sultan Arous — Anecdote — Attack on the Birny of

Bagirmeh — Victory — Act of Cruelty — A Bedawin Traveller — A new

Route to the Mediterranean — Schmed-el-Fari — The Sheikh’s Father at

Fezzan — Caravans — Want of Water — Price in the Desert — An obdurate

Sheikh — Death of Saboun

183

CHAPTER IV.

Beauty of Wadaï — Compliments to its Fertility — Comparison with

Darfur — The two Capitals — Contracted Characters of Fadhl and Saboun

— Inhabitants of Wadaï — Beautiful Women of the Koukah — The Goran —

White and Black Women — Government of Wadaï — Language — Recent

Civilisation of Wadaï — Punishment of Adultery — A Bornouese Army —

Love of Peace — The Fasher of Warah — The Osban Guard — Gates of the

Palace — The Town

202

CHAPTER V.

States of Soudan — Women of Bagirmeh — The Jenakherah — The Idolatrous

Tribes — Their vast Numbers — A Slave-hunt — A great River — Manners —

Manufactures — Peculiar way of going to bed — Marking Cattle —

Cannibals — Origin of the Fullans — Meaning of “Soudan” — A Tempest —

Thunder-bolts — Darfur and Wadaï

221

CHAPTER VI.

The Fellatahs — Their Religious Theories — Rise of Zaky, or Dam-fodio

— He undertakes a Reform — The first Battle — Zaky becomes King —

Conquest of Kashna — Laws — The Wahabites in Arabia — Mohammedan

Protestantism — State of Dar-Niffy — Anecdote of Wealth — The Fullans

conquer Niffy — Zaky’s first Defeat — Muslim Civilisation —

Characteristics of Nations

234

CHAPTER VII.

Trade, by whom followed — Exports of Darfur — Price of Slaves —

Imports — Value of Metals — The Tallari — Commerce of Wadaï — Pledges

of Love — A lost Moudraah — Value of Salt — Manufactures — Interchange

of Services — Burials — A Happy Country — Counting Prayers — Forian

Character — Occupations of Women — Government of Wadaï — Offices —

Audiences — Kabartou — Servility — Punishments — Prisons

247

CHAPTER VIII.

Magic — Public Opinion — Story of an Elephant — A bold Orator — Too

much of a Good Thing — Anecdote — Three Presents — A huge Pipe —

Milk-drinking — Dress of the Wadaïans — Music — Frontlets — Amchinga —

Dress — Duties of Women — Love — A Turguenak and a King’s Slave —

Intrigues — Their cause — A Story of Passion — Unfaithful Women —

Afrits or Devils — A violent Lover — Morals in Soudan

266

CHAPTER IX.

Arms in Soudan — Tactics — Emulation on the Field — Materials of

Weapons — Archers — War-Song — Breeds of Horses — Education — Food —

Price of Horses — Story of a Tamahan — Winged and Speaking Horses —

Metempsychosis — Poets — Kings in War — Slave-hunts, manner of — The

Firman — Collecting Capital — Recruits — Sultan of the Hunt — Sharing

the Spoil — Other Regulations — Grain-Nests — Treatment of Slaves —

Mortality — Justification of Slavery — Savage love of Country — Manners

279

CHAPTER X.

Stay in Darfur — Sheikh desires to depart — Presents of Saboun —

Inspectors — A Fair in the Desert — A Guide — A Blood-feud — The Well

of Daum — Hostile Tribe — A Flag of Truce — Attack — An Interview — A

Camel for a Camel — A Murder — Harassing March — The Tibboo-Reshad —

An Odd Sultan — Fresh Persecution — Hungry Majesties — Loss of Three

Slaves and an Ass — The Sheikh in Love — Departure — Tibboo Camels —

Killing the Devil — Character — Thirst of the Desert

303

CHAPTER XI.

Mourzouk — A beggarly Court — An Ulemah — A miserable Country — Why

the City flourishes — A Man of Good Faith — The Beni Seyf and the

Bischr — Departure for Tripoli — A grave Assembly — Agreeable

Conversation — Arrival at Gharian — Infidel Bedawins — Tripoli —

Journey to Tunis — Sheikh arrives at his Father’s House — Paternal

Honesty — Omar sets out again for Wadaï — The Sheikh’s Marriage —

Death of his Father — Other Journeys — He goes to Egypt — Conclusion

323

TRAVELS OF AN ARAB MERCHANT,

&_c_.

* * * * *

PART I.—DARFUR.

* * * * *

CHAPTER I.

Parentage of the Sheikh — His Grandfather starts on a Pilgrimage

— Adventures — Mekka — Jeddah — A Man from Sennaar —

Departure for that Country — Reception — Fate of his Family —

Omar — His Pilgrimage — A Meeting in the Desert — A Rendezvous

— Omar is deceived by his Father — Journeys to Sennaar — A

Quarrel — He returns towards Egypt — The Desert — Return to

Tunis — Birth of the Sheikh — His Father settles in Egypt —

Goes again to Sennaar — The Sheikh at Cairo — Ahmed-el-Bedawee

— Preparations for Journey to Darfur — Departure.

My father, says the pious Sheikh Mohammed of Tunis, beginning his

narrative—may God overshadow him with the clouds of his mercy

and goodness!—has related to me that my great-grandfather was

one of the most important personages of Tunis; that he was steward

of the Sultan of Barbary, the perfect prince, the victorious king,

the shereef Mohammed El-Hosny.[2] In the exercise of his functions

he became wealthy, and died, leaving three sons, who divided the

heritage, and sold the house, which had been their first refuge,

so that each remained alone with his wife and his children.

My grandfather was a man of letters, and wrote a beautiful hand. The

books he copied sold for double the price of others. He had also

learned the art of dyeing, and from the beginning was better off

than his brothers, and better dressed than they. It happened one

day that the desire came upon him to make a pilgrimage to the

Sacred House, the Kaaba, and to visit the tomb of the Prophet. He

sold a portion of his property, and prepared for his journey in the

character of a trader, providing himself with good store of blankets

and tarbooshes. Many persons also confided to him a certain quantity

of merchandise, that he might trade to their advantage, for his good

faith and probity were well known. He started in a vessel with a good

cargo, his brothers accompanied him to the shore to bid him adieu,

and a favourable wind at first accompanied him; but the weather

suddenly changed, and he was driven in the direction of Rhodes,

where a violent tempest overtook him. The vessel began to leak, the

timbers to crack, the waves to leap over the bulwarks,—in short,

they were wrecked upon the coast, and a few only escaped. Among

these was my grandfather, who contrived to reach the city of Rhodes.

“Thy head,” says the poet, “being saved from destruction,

wealth seems of no more value than the pairing of a nail.”

Luckily the traveller had round his waist a belt full of gold,

which sufficed for his expenses. He bought a stock of provisions,

and, re-embarking, set sail for Alexandria. It was the season

of the departure of the pilgrims to join in the great ceremonies

celebrated near Mount Arafat. He set out on his journey, and having

safely arrived in the Sacred Countries, performed his pious duties

with all the zeal and devotion of which he was capable. But when

he had fully enjoyed the happiness of saluting the Prophet and his

two companions, Abou-Bekr and Omar, who are buried near him, he

recovered from his bewilderment, and began to reflect on the loss

of his fortune and the uncertainty of the future. He was ashamed

to return to Tunis in a state of misery and distress—he who had

lived there in so much comfort. How would he be received by his

countrymen? Upon this he began to repeat to himself these words:—

“I will travel in the countries of the East and of the setting

sun. I will win wealth, or I will die far from my country. If my

soul depart from me, God will call it to himself; but if I survive,

it will be easy to revisit the place of my birth.”

He reflected, also, that even the Jew is honoured on account of

his gold, and that the shereef is humiliated by poverty. The very

dogs wag their tails at sight of a well-dressed man, but bark

at those that are in rags. In consequence of these reflections,

my grandfather left Mekka, and went to reside at Jeddah, where he

gained his living by copying manuscripts. In the course of time he

formed an acquaintance with some people from Sennaar, one of whom

became his intimate friend. Now, this man said to him one day:—

“From what country art thou?”

He replied—“I am from Tunis.”

“And how does it happen that thou hast come to live at Jeddah?”

Then my grandfather related to him the history of his misfortunes.

“Why shouldst thou not make up thy mind,” said the man from

Sennaar, “to come with us to our city? Thou wilt find there

honour and well-being. Our mek (king) is a man with an open hand,

caring neither for gold nor for silver, loving merit, and honouring

shereefs. I answer for it, he will revive thy fortunes, and bestow

upon thee riches, honours, slaves, and camels.”

So my grandfather allowed himself to be persuaded, and, setting

out, arrived in safety at Sennaar, and was presented to the mek in

these words:—

“This man is a learned man from a foreign country; his ship was

destroyed upon the seas, and he has lost all he possessed.”

The mek received my grandfather with hospitality, saying, “Be

welcome!”—and treated him with great deference, giving him a

lodging and abundant presents.

Among these presents was a young girl of charming aspect, and of

great price, named Halymah. Fascinated by her beauty, my father

took her as his concubine, and had by her a son and a daughter,

as beautiful as their mother. The king, moreover, assigned to him

a fixed income; so that he utterly forgot his family, which had

remained in Tunis, and the three young children he had left under

the charge of their mother.

Now, of these children, my late uncle, named Mohammed, was about

that time nine years old; the second—may God save his soul!—was

called Omar, and was six years old—this was my father; the third,

Mohammed Tahir, was three years old. They were all placed under

the guardianship of their maternal uncle, Seyd Ahmed, son of the

learned Sulieman-el-Azhary. This was a man of high character and

immense learning, author of many esteemed books. On account of his

great knowledge of theology, the functions of Kady of Tunis had

been offered to him, but he had refused. He occupied himself in

giving lessons, at first in a college, but afterwards—on account

of ill-health—in his own house, where all the great people came

to listen to his lectures.

My father remained with him until he came to man’s estate, and

profited much by his instruction. But, then, the desire moved him to

perform the pilgrimage, and he laid the subject before his uncle,

who was at once stirred by the same laudable wish, and gave up his

lectures and prepared for departure. They embarked and proceeded

to Alexandria, and thence to Cairo; and afterwards started for

Cosseir, some months before the season of the pilgrimage. As they

were crossing the desert, they beheld approaching another caravan,

composed of Magrebyns, coming from Sennaar. When they drew nigh

they began to shout out questions one to the other; and those coming

from Sennaar cried,—

“Ho! ho! is there any one amongst you from Tunis?”

“Yes,” replied my father, “we are from Tunis.”

“Do you know one Ahmed, son of Suleiman?”

“Yes,” said my father; “and who art thou?”

“I am his brother-in-law. I left Tunis a long time ago—my

children and all my family—and I know not whether they are dead

or alive.”

Now the uncle of my father was under a kind of palanquin, covered

with cloth; but had overheard this conversation.

“Omar,” said he, “go and salute thy father. It is he; and

tell him I am here.”

So Omar jumped off his camel, and, running to his father, kissed

his hand, and told him that the brother of his wife was under

the palanquin.

My grandfather hastened and saluted the son of Suleiman, and when

they were somewhat tranquillised, Omar said to his father,—

“How comes it that thou hast left us so long, without any resource,

young as we are? If God had not awakened the bounty of my uncle,

we should have been lost.”

My grandfather explained that he had been the victim of destiny,

and quoted the words of a poet in support of his statement.

“But,” said my father, “art thou now thinking of returning

to our country, and of refreshing the eyes of thy family?”

“I will return, if it please God.”

“And when?”

“I am now going to Cairo to sell my female slaves. Then I shall

return to Sennaar, to take my children and whatever I possess; and

afterwards I shall set out for Egypt. Go thou upon the pilgrimage,

and we shall meet again at Cairo. Whoever arrives first shall wait

for the other.”

So they said, “Adieu!” and the two caravans separated in the

desert. My father and his uncle went upon their pilgrimage, and

my grandfather continued his journey to Cairo, where he sold his

slaves, and, having made his purchases, returned to his adopted

country. Meanwhile the pilgrims arrived at the holy city, and

performed their pious duties; but the elder of them died, and was

buried near the gate of Mala. So Omar returned alone to Cairo, and,

whilst waiting for his father, attended on the scientific lectures

in the mosque of El-Azhar. But he waited in vain; his father came

not; and, in his impatience, he started with a caravan which was

returning direct to Sennaar.

Having arrived in that country, he found his father comfortably

settled, surrounded by his wives and children, and having no

thoughts of departure. He asked him why he had broken his promise,

and had laughed at him. My grandfather gave an evasive answer, to

the effect that his debtors would not pay him, and persuaded Omar

to wait six months longer. A caravan then preparing to depart for

Egypt, Omar said,—

“My father! wilt thou come along with us, or shall I go away

alone?”

“Neither the one nor the other. It is not convenient for me

to go to Tunis, where I owe money. Besides, I have learned that

thy mother has married again. As for thy departure, put it off;

thou must be provided for that purpose with slaves, camels, gold,

and merchandise.”

My father refused to remain any longer, saying: “I wish to become

learned, and all the time I spend here is pure loss.”

Upon this they quarrelled, and my father went away in anger with the

caravan, not possessing a single para. But three days afterwards,

my grandfather came riding after him, and gave him three camels,

four young slave-girls, two black slaves, provisions and water-skins,

and a camel-load of gum. My father received the whole, and continued

his journey with the caravan; but some time afterwards they strayed

from the track and lost their way. Thirst made itself felt, the

passage of the desert was prolonged, and the slave-girls and the

camels which had been given to my father died, so that he became as

poor as before. Well has a poet said, that when Fortune is willing

to follow you can lead her with a hair, but when she wishes to turn

away, she can break chains of iron.

Heaven, however, had not determined that my father should remain

in an extremity of distress. The chief of the caravan became ill,

and nobody knew a means of cure. His disease was a brain fever;

but my father wrote a passage from the Koran on a piece of paper,

and gave it to the sick man, who, with profound faith, placed it

upon his head and was instantly cured. In gratitude, the chief

of the caravan gave my father a camel to ride on, and placed his

bales of gum upon another, so that he arrived in safety at Cairo,

and sold his merchandise with a good profit. This done, he again

entered the mosque of El-Azhar, and shortly afterwards married my

mother. After two years of marriage, he had a son whom he called

Ahmed, but who died when he was fifteen months old. He consoled

himself by repeating the verses of the poet: “Dear child, star

of the heaven, how short was thy time! thou wert like the stars of

the last hour of the night!”

Soon afterwards my father started for Tunis, taking with him his

wife and mother-in-law, and was received by his brother, Mohammed,

who had become a tarboosh-manufacturer. Five months afterwards I

was born. It was on a Friday, three hours after the setting of the

sun, in the middle of the month of Zou-l-Kadeh, in the year 1204

(1789). Three years afterwards my father, having quarrelled with

his brothers, returned to Egypt, and became a humble functionary

in the mosque of El-Azhar. Four years afterwards he received a

letter from his half-brother, in Sennaar, to this effect: “Our

father has gone to the dwelling of pardon of the very high God. He

left behind him a great number of books, which have been stolen

from us by a certain Ahmed, of Benzareh in the States of Tunis,

whom we had received into our house. We are in a condition that

rejoices our enemies and afflicts our friends. On the receipt

of this letter depart, we pray thee, immediately for this place,

and take us with thee. We live as you live. Salutation.”

On reading this letter my father wept, and pitied the misery of

his brother and his sister. He determined at once to go and fetch

them. I was then seven years old. I had already read the whole of

the Koran once, and was reading it a second time, having come to

the end of the chapter on the family of Aaron. I had a brother four

years old. My father left us sufficient to live on for six months;

but we remained a whole year alone. My mother was obliged to sell a

great portion of our copper utensils and of her ornaments. Then my

uncle Tahir arrived at Cairo and took us under his protection. He

came with the combined object of pilgrimage and trade. He had

a boy as beautiful as the morning sun in a sky without clouds,

named Mohammed. This boy studied with me for some time; but the

plague came and he died; and was carried away to the tomb and to

the delights of the Houris. My uncle, who had intended to remain

some time in Cairo, was so saddened by the loss of his son, that he

started immediately for the holy city, leaving me money sufficient

for my expenses during four months.[3] But this time passed away,

and I was left sometimes not knowing what to eat, and nearly

naked. Meanwhile, however, I studied assiduously at the mosque

of El-Azhar. One day I learned that a caravan was arriving from

Soudan. It came from Darfur. I had learned a short time previously

that my father had departed from Sennaar for that country with his

brother. When, therefore, the caravan had entered the wakalah of

the slave-merchants, I went about amongst them inquiring if any

one knew whether my father was alive. After some time I chanced to

fall in with one of the traders, who was a grave, respectable man,

named Ahmed Bedawee. I kissed his hand and stood up before him.

“What dost thou desire, my friend?” said he to me, in a voice

full of gentleness.

“I come to ask for news of some one whom you may happen to know.”

“Who is he, and what is his name?”

“Omar of Tunis, a learned man.”

“Thou hast addressed thyself to the right person. I am his friend;

and thou, from thy face, should be his son.”

“Yes, I am he;” and I related my misfortunes.

He then told me that my father was among the personages placed

near the Sultan, one of the most honoured members of the divan, and

offered to advance me sufficient money to enable me to set out and

join him. I accepted his offer, saying that I would follow him like

a shadow; so I went to visit him every day until Ahmed said to me:

“We shall start to-morrow, come and pass the night with us.” I

did so, and next morning at early dawn we rose and pronounced the

prayer of the Sabh, and prepared the baggage and placed it on the

camels. The horns of the gazelle could not have been perceived in

the desert at the time when our camels went away from the wakalah,

swinging their burdens to and fro. We arrived at Fostat, and our

beasts knelt on the banks of the Nile. We transferred our baggage

to a large boat, and, having waited for the mid-day prayer—it

being Friday—we started.[4]

CHAPTER II.

Fostat — The Nile — Reflections — Minieh — The Mamlooks —

Siout — Departure of the Caravan — The Oases — Kharjeh —

Abyrys — Boulac — Maks — Arid Desert — Wells and Rivers —

Musical Stones — Selineh — A Courier — Death of the King of

Darfur — Natron Lakes of Zaghawy — Halt — The last Stage over

the Desert — Kind Treatment of the Sheikh — Confines of Darfur

— Separation of the Caravan — Congratulations of the People —

Visitors — Arrival of Strangers — Zarrouk, the Sheikh’s Uncle

— Obligations of Ahmed-el-Bedawee to Omar of Tunis — Departure

for Aboul-Joudoul — Kelkabieh — The Marrah Mountains — Meeting

of Father and Son — Feast — The Sultan and his Vizier — Visit

to Tendelty — Interview with Kourra.

When our boat had pushed off from the shores of Old Cairo, whilst

the men were getting out the great sail, I began sadly to reflect

on the dangers of the voyage I was undertaking: a warning voice

seemed to speak from the depths of my heart. I trembled—disquietude

overshadowed me—I was amidst the sons of a race foreign to my own;

amidst men whose language I scarcely knew, whose countenances were

not white, and whose miens not promising. I whispered to myself,

whilst tears stood in my eyes:—“Body, garments, visage, all

in them seem black to thee—black skins in black clothing.” I

repented me that I had been won over by the sons of Ham. Their

hatred for the sons of Shem came to my thoughts. I felt within

myself an indescribable emotion, and was on the point of begging

permission to return to Cairo; but the grace of God descended upon

me, and I remembered all that had been said by men of learning and

of science, and by the prophet, in favour of travels. If the pearl

did not quit its shell, it would never be placed in a diadem; and if

the moon moved not, it would ever be a crescent. So I determined to

persevere. A favourable wind impelled us during the day, our kanjia

moved swiftly up the stream, and at night-time we reached Minieh.[5]

Near this town there was a troop of those Ghouz, or Mamlouks, from

whom God had just removed the cloak of power.[6] They seized our

bark by violence. They were encamped in tents near the town, along

the banks of the Nile, and were on the look-out for travellers, that

they might rob them: they spoiled our chief of all his money. When

we escaped from their hands we proceeded in three days to Manfaloot,

and thence to Beni-Ady, where we remained until the Darfur caravan

was ready to start—until it had mended its water-skins, and got

together its provisions.[7]

When the camels were at length laden we struck into the desert,

and on the evening of the fifth day reached Kharjeh, the Theban

oasis. This place is planted with date-trees, that surround it as the

anklets surround the ankles, or as the two arms of a lover surround

the neck of his mistress, on whom he sheds a kiss. These date-trees

were laden with splendid dates, the aspect of which charmed our eyes,

and which were exceedingly cheap. We remained there five days; but

on the morning of the sixth proceeded, and, after hard travelling,

on the third day reached Abyrys. This country has been ruined by

the exactions of its governors; all its population, formerly so

happy, is now dispersed; the date-trees are destroyed, and all the

brilliance of the scenery has been tarnished.

After two days of rest we pushed on two other days to Boulac,

a country also desolated, and nearly without inhabitants. Most of

its houses are ruined. What surprised me was the extreme smallness

of the date-trees, under which we could lie and pick the fruit with

our hands. The name of Boulac recalled to me the Boulac of Cairo,

and some natural tears fell from my eyes as I thought of the place

where I had been brought up.

But there is little time for regret in the desert. We pushed on

hastily and arrived in the evening at Maks, to which this verse may

be applied: “The country has no inhabitants, except the gazelles

and the caravans that traverse it.” It is related that Maks had

formerly a large population, which perished by the hand of Him

who destroyed the last eagle of Lockman: all the inhabitants have

disappeared—not a man is left. Scarcely at present remain there

a few trees, some tamarisks, and thorny bushes. We tarried there

two days, and having filled our water-skins, departed.

We now entered a desert completely arid. For five days we marched

through silent solitudes, over grim plains, where here and there the

wandering eye could scarcely discover some stunted plants of the same

colour as the ground; there was not a tree to cast a hand’s-breadth

of shadow. During this part of the journey we were compelled to cook

our food with the dry dung of camels, which the servants collected.

On the evening of the fifth day we reached a place called Es-Shebb,

situated in the midst of mountains that seemed like vast cones

of sand. An unpleasant wind blew over them; but we remained there

two days to rest, and then went on again for four more, until we

reached the wells of Selineh, near which are the ruins of ancient

buildings. It is situated at the foot of a mountain which bears

the same name. We remained there two days to rest. This place is

a delightful one for the traveller; but that which astonished me

chiefly was that the young men of the caravan, having ascended the

mountain, struck certain blocks of stone with switches, and caused

them to yield a sound exactly resembling that of a tambourine. The

cause of this curious circumstance is unknown. Are there hollows

in these stones, or are they placed over caverns? Glory be to God,

who knows the truth! At any rate the people of the caravan told

me that, on a certain night, which they specified—the night of

Friday, I believe—there is heard from the mountain the playing of

a tambourine, as if a marriage festival were going on. The origin

of these nocturnal musical entertainments is also unknown.

On the third day we filled our water-skins, and leaving Selineh

entered upon the desert, and having travelled for five whole days,

during which we met a caravan of Amaim Arabs coming from the natron

lakes, reached Laguyeh, where we again rested two days and departed

for Zaghawy. We now met a courier, mounted on a dromedary, coming

from Darfur, and announcing the death of the just and glorious

prince, Sultan Abd-er-Rahman-er-Rashid, sovereign of Darfur and its

dependent provinces. The courier was going to Cairo to renew the

state seal, no one in that country being capable of engraving it. The

caravan testified its grief at this melancholy news; all feared that

some disturbance might arise in the country, for the Sultan who had

just died was an equitable and generous prince, loving science and

those who possessed it, and the declared enemy of ignorance.

We continued our route for five days more, when at length our camels

knelt at the natron lakes of Zaghawy. From thence to the frontiers

of Darfur there are still ten days of travel, making forty days in

all. We remained at this place eleven days, pasturing our beasts of

burthen, in order to prepare them for the frightful desert before

us. Some camels were slaughtered at this station, and their flesh

was distributed to the caravan. There came to us some Bedawin Arabs

of Darfur, who offered for sale camel-milk and butter. They had

come to fetch salt and natron from that place.

We now sent forward a courier, mounted on a dromedary, with letters

for the government, and others for the relations of the caravan

folks, announcing our speedy arrival. I also wrote to my father,

kissing his venerable hands, and relating how Ahmed Bedawee had cared

for me. Indeed I had reason to be thankful; of all the journeys I had

ever performed this was the pleasantest; for so soon as we quitted

Beni-Ady my protector ordered his slaves to prepare for me a kind

of tent on a quiet camel, and he himself assisted me to mount, and

held the bridle until I was settled in my seat. He gave me, also,

a great leathern bottle to hold water, and bade all his servitors to

be at my beck and call. He had with him seven middle-aged slaves and

one young one, eight hired domestics, and sixty-eight camels. With

him were five concubines, and a sixth woman, who was his cousin,

Sitti Jamal, of ravishing beauty. He had also a black Dongola horse,

with a saddle of green velvet.

Ahmed treated me with all the kindness of a father. When the caravan

halted I used to doze away, fatigued by the swinging of the camel

and the heat of the sun: he would allow me to sleep until the

hour of supper arrived, when he would wake me gently and bring me

water, that I might wash. At meals he guided my hand to the dish,

and sometimes put the morsels into my mouth.

When we left the wells of Zaghawy we marched for ten days hastily,

starting before dawn and trenching on the night. On the eleventh

morning we came to Mazroob, a well situated on the confines of

Darfur, and in a few hours the Arabs came down to us, bringing large

skins of water and little skins full of milk. We congratulated

ourselves on the happy termination of our journey, and solaced

ourselves at the well during the whole of that day; but next morning

we advanced, in four hours, to Souwaineh, where we met the governor

of the country, with a suite of five hundred horsemen, who wished us

a good journey. This was the Melik Mohammed Sanjak. In Soudan every

governor bears the title of Melik, or Mek—that is to say, king.

Having rested at this place two days, we again started; but here our

caravan broke up, each taking the direction of his own district. The

greatest number went to Kobeih, the capital; but Ahmed, my protector,

was from Sarf-el-Dajaj, or the Rivulet of Fowls. I accompanied him,

and we advanced slowly for three days, and on the fourth came under

the shade of a great mountain, where was a well, on the brink of

which we halted to pass the warm hours. A number of persons came

here to congratulate us upon our arrival, and among others of my

protector, with slaves and servants bearing provisions. We feasted

and talked until the sun went down, and, then proceeding, arrived

in an hour and a-half at Sarf-el-Dajaj.

The rest of the evening was spent in receiving a crowd of visitors;

but Ahmed did not forget me, and ordered a hut to be prepared

for my repose. I slept soundly, and next morning went to visit my

protector, whom I found sitting gravely surrounded by his servants,

his slave-women, and his children, happy, satisfied, and quiet,

as if he had not just come off so long a journey. He introduced me

to his relations and friends; and several days were spent by me in

passing from one house to another, enjoying the festivals given to

celebrate the return of the travellers.

I returned one day to my house, a little before twilight, and

found there two men and two slaves. One of the two men was short,

bronze-coloured, rather agreeable in aspect, and dressed with some

elegance. The other was black and poorly accoutred. I sat down,

suppressing my surprise at seeing a couple of strangers installed

in my chamber. They made signs to one another, looking at me. Then

one began to say,—

“Is this really he?”—“Certainly it is he!”

I did not know what they meant, but the bronze-coloured man said,—

“Art thou of this country?”

“No! I come from Cairo to meet my father.”

“Who is thy father?”

“Omar of Tunis.”

Then the black said sharply, “Salute, then, thy uncle, Ahmed

Zarrouk!”

So I saluted the bronzed man, who handed to me a letter addressed

to Ahmed Bedawee, in which my father paid numerous compliments

to my protector, thanking him, and announcing that he had sent,

as presents, two slaves of six spans in height, and a sorrel

colt. When I had read this missive, the bronzed man told me to go

and communicate it to Ahmed, and to take the presents with me. This

I did, and my protector, having admired the slaves and the colt,

said,—“Blessings! they are magnificent! I accept them, and I

give them to my son—this one”—pointing to me.

Both I and my uncle pressed him to keep them, but he would not,

saying,—“If I were to expend all my fortune for thy father, it

would be little in comparison with the service he has rendered me.”

Upon this I took courage to ask, “What was this service he so

often alluded to?”

“Know, my child,” said he, “that my enemies had spoken

calumnies against me to his highness the Sultan. I was accused

of selling free-women; and with so much cunning and appearance of

truth, that the Sultan was convinced, and exclaimed in his rage,

‘A merchant of his rank, possessor of so much wealth, to behave

thus! Better he were poor!’ Then he called me before him, and

received me with flashing eyes and contemptuous words. I begged

that the charges should be examined. They refused. My words were

stifled. I was seized, an iron collar was put round my neck, and they

were about to throw me into a dungeon. But, thanks to the benevolent

providence of God, thy father was present at this scene. Nobody

had dared to intercede for me, seeing the mighty anger of the

Sultan. Thy father came forward, and having coughed like one about

to make a speech, pronounced certain words of the Prophet on pardon,

and on the necessity of verifying accusations. Then he implored the

clemency of the Sultan for me. The Sultan was moved, and ordered

me to be set at liberty. My innocence was afterwards made manifest;

but if, at that time, God had not roused up thy father, my life and

my property would have been sacrificed. What greater service can

be rendered to a man than this? God will reward it. For my part,

I had long waited an opportunity to be agreeable to thy father, and

I have only been able to do for him this slight kindness. Perhaps it

will be counted as part payment of my debt; but I do not think so.”

My uncle wished to depart on the morrow, but Ahmed would not consent,

and we remained three days more. On the morning of the fourth day my

protector gave me a great quantity of kharaz, or strings of beads

used to ornament women’s dresses in Soudan: he also gave me some

others, more valuable, used as necklaces. To these he added some

beads of yellow amber, and a large agate of a light red colour. All

this was worth three female slaves. He presented me likewise with a

new turban of green muslin, with some sunbul, sandal-wood, and other

perfumes used by the Soudan ladies. “Distribute this,” he said,

“to thy father’s wives.” Afterwards he killed a sheep, and

roasted it entire, as a parting meal, and having properly saluted

us, allowed us to depart.

I mounted a horse, my uncle a dromedary, and the black man an

ass. The slaves preceded us. We were bound for a place six days’

distant, called Aboul-Joudoul, where was my father. On our way

we passed Kelkabieh, the environs of which reminded me of the

country places of Egypt; but the town is better built, richer, and

more lively. Many foreigners are seen there. The natives are, for

the most part, wealthy merchants, having great numbers of slaves,

with which they trade. The district belonging to this town is vast

and open, and there are great numbers of wells, the water of which

rises nearly to the brim. The date-tree flourishes there, as well as

abundance of vegetables: as cucumbers, vegetable marrows, onions,

fenugreek, cumin, pepper, and various other plants well known in

Egypt. The sour lemon is also found.

Not far off are the mountains of Marrah, which stretch north

and south from one end of Darfur nearly to the other, cutting

the country into two unequal parts. This range is traversed by a

series of defiles, which enable the western and eastern provinces

to communicate. The true Forians inhabit these mountains, and shun

the plain, where they think themselves in less security.

At Kelkabieh there was a well-frequented market, where we bought

provisions and departed, proceeding three days along the mountains of

Marrah, until we came to a country, the inhabitants of which, hating

travellers, especially Arabs, received us very roughly. Thenceforward

we passed over plains, and, having rested at Tarneh, arrived on the

sixth day at Joultou, in the district of Aboul-Joudoul. Here we saw

a house, at the gate of which were horses, asses, and servants. My

father was receiving visitors. We entered, and a number of young

black slave-girls came running to meet us, and surrounded us,

welcoming our arrival. Then the guests of my father went away, and he

approached us, and testified his joy at beholding me. I kissed his

hand, and remained standing before him out of respect. He ordered

me to be seated. I obeyed; and a little after he said,—

“What studies hast thou pursued? What hast thou learned?”

“The Koran,” replied I, “and something of scientific

matters.”

These words rejoiced him.

The day after my arrival my father gave a great feast, slaughtering

an ox and several sheep, and inviting all his friends. We passed

a day of joy. A short time afterwards he requested my uncle and me

to get ready and go up to the steps of the throne, to offer, in his

name, presents to the Sultan, to his Grand Vizier, and to his Vizier.

The Sultan, Mohammed Fadhl, son of Abd-er-Rahman, was at that time

very young, so that the government was in the hands of Mohammed

Kourra, the Grand Vizier. It was he who had placed the boy on the

throne at the death of his father. Report said that he was derived

from the slaves of the palace; but this is not true, for he was of

free birth. He was a devoted minister, and well fitted to govern,

endowed with genius, sagacity, and courage. No man knew better than

he to guide political matters.

We started, according to my father’s desire, for Tendelty, at

that time the seat of the Sultan. This place was called the Fasher,

it being the custom in Darfur to apply that name to whatever spot

the Sultan chose for his habitation. On the third day we arrived,

and found the city filled with crowds of people; there was constant

moving to and fro of foot-passengers and of horsemen, and the people

were sitting in groups before their doors; the air was filled with

the sound of tambourines and the trampling of cavalry. We repaired

at once to the house of the Vizier, Fakih-Malik, to whom my father

was immediately subject. He was in the midst of his servants

and his suite, and various public officers, but received us with

politeness and benevolence, and ordered a place to be prepared

for our baggage. Then he offered to conduct us to the palace of

Sheikh Mohammed Kourra, which we found surrounded on all sides

by the horses, dromedaries, and asses of people who had come to

obtain audience. The dignitaries of the state surrounded him. I

was introduced as the son of the learned Shereef Omar, of Tunis,

and was well received, as were also the presents. He spoke in

terms of compliment of my father, and ordered Malik to lodge us. We

remained at Tendelty three days, in the midst of honours, festivals,

and contentment. Then I was called to audience, and received a

present of a green shawl and other garments, two beautiful slaves,

and a negro. Then he wrote a complimentary letter, and dismissed

me well pleased. As for Malik, he gave me a young slave-girl,

whom he described in the letter he also sent, as “firm-bosomed,

solid as a cube, and of the age of the Houris.” She was named

Hamaidah. Well contented to be the bearer of these presents,

I returned to my father, and rejoiced his sight.

CHAPTER III.

Omar plans a Visit to Tunis — The Sheikh is established at

Aboul-Joudoul — Unfairly deserted by his Father — Insurrection

of Mohammed Kourra — His Death — Gallant Fight — Sketch of

the History of the Kings of Darfur — Tyrab — Anecdote of the

Birguids — A Strange Dowry — Story of the Sultan Abou-Bekr

— True Love — Another Story of Passion — Rise of Kourra —

A black Economist — Expedition to Kordofal — Its Origin —

Designs of Tyrab — A Conspiracy against his Life — Death of

Ali Bargou — Diplomacy — Kourra and the chief Wife of Tyrab

— Plot — Death of Tyrab — Elevation of the Orphan.

I remained in repose at my father’s house until the month

of Ramadhan, when my father went to the Fasher to salute the

Sultan. There he met the Grand Vizier, Kourra, and begged permission

of him to be allowed to go to Tunis, that he might see his mother

before her death. He added, that he would leave me in Darfur, for

the country where my father resided was a kind of fief which had

been confided to him by the late Sultan. He had at first, however,

been placed at Guerly, but had refused to remain there, because the

inhabitants had no knowledge of the Arabic language. His present

district contained three villages. It was agreed, therefore, that I

should be settled in that country, that I should collect the taxes,

and cultivate it for my advantage.

When Kourra had exacted from my father a promise that he would

return to Darfur, he gave him permission to depart, and wrote

letters to the chiefs of the various provinces through which he

would have to pass, ordering them to receive him and furnish him

with escorts. So my father bade adieu to Kourra, and returned to us,

thinking of nothing but his journey. He prepared to set out as soon

as possible. He sold his cotton, of which he had sown twenty feddans,

and turned all he possessed into money, even his flocks, and his

oxen, and his asses. He took with him his slave-women, his blacks,

and all that I had received from Ahmed Bedawee and from the Sheikh

Kourra. He left me only a single slave-woman, who had a web in her

eye, called Farhanah, two blacks, with their wives, an ass, and a

sick dromedary. He also left me one of his wives, called Zohrah,

and his brother’s wife, each of whom had a daughter. He sold all

his grain-pits, except one, which he gave to me. He then placed in

my hands the contract of donation of lands which had been ceded to

him by the late Sultan. This document, having enumerated the various

titles of the prince, constituted Omar of Tunis the absolute master

of the district of Aboul-Joudoul and its three villages. Having

thus provided for me, my father put his baggage on his camels, and

went away with his slaves, his harem, and his brother, and left me

to myself.

Now it came to pass in the month of Regeb, 1219, that the Ab Sheikh,

Mohammed Kourra, was killed in a battle during a revolt, in which he

was engaged in spite of himself, and in which he was obliged to make

war against the Sultan Mohammed Fadhl. His enemies excited the prince

against him by their calumnies, accusing him of a desire to dethrone

him in favour of his brother. It was this that caused the weather

to become cloudy between them. The Sultan tried to seize Kourra,

but he escaped from his hands, and went to live among his people

in his house, still in the same province. Not being able to reduce

him in any other way, the Sultan sent soldiers to prevent him from

getting water from the lake in Tendelty. For three days Kourra got

water from a distance, but not in sufficient quantities, so that

his partisans began to suffer from thirst, and murmured against

fortune, and insisted on being led away. But Kourra assembled them,

and marching down to the lake, defeated the guards there placed. Upon

this the royal army advanced, but was defeated with terrible loss,

and the Sultan fled away to the opposite side of the lake. During the

night Kourra began to count his loss, and found that his brother had

been killed. So he exclaimed, “For whose sake do I now fight? I

care for nothing else in life!” And he ordered his people on the

next battle not to follow him amidst the foe. This order caused great

desertion in his camp, for people felt that he had ceased to wish for

victory. In the morning the tambourines gave the signal of combat,

and the troops of the Sultan advanced on horseback. Kourra mounted

on his war-steed, and dashed at once into the _mêlée_, breaking

the lines opposed to him, until he came in presence of the Sultan,

and might have killed him; but he stopped, remembering the benefits

he had derived from his father, and exclaimed, “Thou hast listened

to the calumnies circulated against me, and this is the way in which

you recompense my services.” The Sultan was alarmed, and trembled,

and wished to fly, and called out to his people, “There he is—he

is going to kill me!” So from all sides they rushed upon Kourra,

and surrounded him, as the ring surrounds the finger. The Ab,

seeing that there was no salvation for him, fought like a lion,

and many warriors fell beneath his sword. He soon became covered

with wounds, but, in spite thereof, he fought in the midst of the

crowd for nearly an hour, until some one, coming behind, hamstrung

his horse. Then he fell, and, being heavy with his double iron-mail,

could not get up again; so his enemies rushed upon him like dogs

upon their prey, and he was killed. May the mercy of God be upon him!

Then they stripped him, and found that he had more than a hundred

wounds from sabre or lance. Meanwhile the son of his wife—he

was himself an eunuch[8]—named Shilfoot, came, breaking through

the crowd, in the hopes of finding him still alive, and rescuing

him—but it was too late; so he fell right and left upon the enemy,

killing numbers of them, and shouting, “Come, the price! the

price! Pay me the price of Kourra!” At length, however, he

also fell.

Such was the end of the great Ab Sheikh, Mohammed Kourra; and

I will now relate his life, and how he raised himself to power;

and I will set down, at the same time, what I have learned from

several old men about the history of the Sultans of Darfur.

The Sultan Mohammed Fadhl was son of the Sultan Abd-er-Rahman,

who was son of the Sultan Ahmed Bekr. The latter had seven sons,

Omar, Abûl Kasim, Riz, Rifa, Tyrab, Tahir, and Abd-er-Rahman,

surnamed El-Yatim, or The Orphan—because, at the death of his

father, he was still unborn. When Ahmed Bekr saw that his hour was

drawing nigh, he assembled around him the dignitaries of the state,

and declared it to be his last will that the Sultanship should pass

alternately from one of his sons to another, as death took them off;

but that the children of each should not reign until all the seven

were dead. So Omar governed in the first place, and reigned until

he fell in battle against the sovereign of Wadaï. His successor,

Abûl Kasim, also reigned seven years, and was killed in the same

way. To him succeeded Tyrab, surnamed the Seeds of Syria, who hated

war, and remained at home, occupied in the cares of government

for thirty-three years. He loved boisterous amusements, and was

fond of dress. During his reign there was fertility and peace,

and all provisions were cheap. But, towards the end of his life,

he was detested on account of the extravagant conduct of his

children, who were in number more than thirty, without counting

the girls. These princes were ever wandering on horseback through

Darfur; and if they heard of any valuable thing at once seized it

as their property. Every one suffered by them and feared them. One

went so far as to give up riding on horseback, and would only ride

upon men, seizing any passers-by, and compelling them to carry

him. Complaints were made to the prince, who would not, however,

believe or pay any attention to them. The eldest of his sons was

called Izhak, surnamed the Kaliph, and was brave, intelligent,

but avaricious and tyrannical.

Tyrab was addicted to debauch and to pleasure. Often young girls

and boys played and danced together in his presence, and he loved to

behold them. One day a troop of Birguids came to the Fasher. These

people have a particular dance, called Tendegueh, during which,

when the couples are tired, they go, lads and lasses, two by two,

to sit together; and so, after they had danced before the Sultan,

they went thus to sit two by two, and one of the dancers said to

his partner,—

“Wilt thou take me for thy husband?”

“Yes; but what wilt thou give me for a dowry?”

“Alas! I am poor; I can give thee nothing more valuable than he

who is opposite me.”

This was the Sultan.

“Very good,” said the girl: “I accept.”

Now it happened that Tyrab was observing their signs, and called them

to him, and asked for an explanation. The young man boldly said,—

“I was asking my sweetheart here, if she would marry me; she

consents, but asks for a dowry; and I have answered her that I have

none other to give but thee.”

“This is a singular dowry,” said Tyrab; “and has she

accepted?”

“Certainly,” said the young man.

Then the Sultan said to the girl,—

“Wilt thou allow me to take a substitute, and to pay a ransom?”

“Willingly,” answered she; “I consent—I accept.”

So Tyrab sent for the father of the young girl, and asked

her in marriage, and drew out the contract with her father;

and gave to the bride for dowry two beautiful slaves, and to the

bridegroom a handsome negro; and, moreover, added wherewith to live

comfortably. Verily, this was a fine trait, for there is nothing

more excellent than to unite those who love by a pure tie.

A similar story is told of the Kaliph, Abou-Bekr. He used to

wander by night through the Brilliant City, in order to know the

true state of his people, and to discover who was the victim of

oppression. In one of his rounds he heard in the street a young

girl singing these verses:—

“Alas, I loved him even before they tore away my talisman;

In his walk he describes the graceful bending of a branch:

His countenance is like the lustre of the full moon—

Like it, he appears and disappears,

And he is of the stock of Hashim.”

Abou-Bekr knocked at the door, and said to this young girl,—

“Who is he that thou lovest?”

“Depart from hence,” cried she.

He persisted, saying: “Thou must tell me the name of him thou

lovest.”

“By the name of the Prophet, who is now in his tomb, I conjure

thee to depart from hence!”

“By the name of God, I will not go away until thou hast told me

who is the object of thy love!”

Then she heaved a profound sigh, and replied,—

“An unhappy flame consumes me; I am full of trouble. I love

Mohammed, son of Kasim.”

“But art thou free?”

“No; I am a slave.”

“Of whom?”

“Of such a one,” naming him.

Then Abou-Bekr went away, and, in the morning, learned that the son

of Kasim was upon an expedition in Irak. So he bought the young

slave-girl, and sent her with a letter to her lover, explaining

what had come to pass; and adding, “My son, how many hearts have

sickened unto death for women! and how many virgins have languished

in disappointment!”

This reminds me of another story. Suleiman, son of Abdel Malik,

was of an extremely jealous disposition, and sometimes put to death

individuals whom he suspected of having cast an eye of covetousness

on any of his women. Once he called a singer to him: it was daytime;

he caused him to sit at the foot of his bed and to sing. Now,

it happened that the weather was warm, and a young slave-girl was

employed in fanning him, and the combined influence of the music

and the cool air sent him to sleep. The singer, whose eyes had been

downcast, suddenly looked up and saw the Kaliph slumbering, and

the young girl still waving the fan. He fixed his looks upon her,

and she seemed to him to be splendid as the sun at the fourth hour

of the day. He became troubled, but he dared not speak, for the

Kaliph was there. Tears of love gushed from beneath his eyelids,

and passion burned within him. He took a piece of paper and wrote

upon it these two verses,—

“I have seen thee in a dream—I have seen thee beside me—I

drank the cool dew of thy lips.

“Yes, yes, we have passed the time together on the same couch!”

He threw this paper to the young girl, who took it, and added three

other verses,—

“Thou hast seen aright: everything that thou darest to hope for

thou shalt obtain, even if the jealous one has his face dragged in

the dust.

“Yes, thou shalt pass the time by my side, between the bracelets

of my wrists: thou shalt come upon my lips and in my arms.

“We shall be the first lovers who have been united in spite of

fate and the jealous one.”

She threw the paper to the singer, but the Kaliph stretched out

his hand and caught it as it passed, and read it. His eyes flashed,

and he exclaimed,—

“What motive has guided you? Is this an old intrigue, or is it

sudden love that has made you drunk?”

“By the heaven above, it is the love of an instant. No word bound

as together.”

And tears of fear fell from their eyes. The Kaliph’s heart was

softened, and, turning to the singer, he said,—

“Take her, but never again appear in my sight.”

As I have said, Sultan Tyrab lived to a great age. He had many

wives and concubines, and thirty of his sons at a time were able to

ride on horseback: Mohammed Kourra was a mere boy when he entered

his service. The Sultan put him among the korkoas, or lancers, who

march behind the Sultan when he rides out, and guard him during his

audiences. But they are not exclusively devoted to the guard of the

prince, but follow also the inferior governors. They suggest the idea

of authority. Kourra remained a certain time in this chosen corps,

and gave proof of great sagacity. Tyrab loved him, and placed him

in the service of the Saum-in-Dogolah, or imperial mansion, a place

of great consequence. In his new position, Kourra rendered himself

indispensable, and Tyrab generally consulted only him. This roused

the jealousy of his colleagues, and one day one of them said to the

Sultan, “Kourra is a traitor: I see him every day with one of your

concubines, who slyly gives him the best dishes from the kitchen.”

The Sultan upon this determined to revenge himself, but Kourra,

hearing what had happened, took a knife, and, shutting himself up

alone in a hut, with his own hand mangled himself. Coming forth,

he presented himself before the Sultan who was in a neighbouring

hut, and said,—“I was accused of betraying thee, but that is

now impossible; I hope I shall no longer be suspected,” Then he

fainted, and the Sultan, deeply moved, ordered him be treated with

the greatest care.

When Kourra was cured, Tyrab gave him into the care of one of

his Viziers, the Emin Aly Wad Jami, and ordered him to be well

treated. The Emin received this charge with reluctance. But,

nevertheless, Kourra was at length named chief of the guard of the

Saum-in-Dogolah. In this position he distinguished himself by a more

economical and methodical arrangement of the dishes supplied to each

department of the palace; so that every one was better satisfied

than before, and there remained sufficient to serve as presents to

people who happened to be receiving strangers. It was supposed that

these presents came from the Vizier, for Kourra had the prudence to

conceal his share in the matter. Many people came to give thanks

for what they had received, and he, whilst listening to them, was

puzzled, and could not understand wherefore they praised him. One

day, on coming out of the harem, he perceived Kourra distributing

dishes, and stopped and hid himself to listen. Presently he heard

a voice saying,—“How many strangers are there with such a

king?”—“So many.”—“Then take him so many dishes,

and do not forget to say that the Emin sent them.” In this way

Kourra forwarded a variety of presents, and the Vizier discovered

the origin of the praises that had been given him, and was pleased,

and raised him to the rank of superintendent of the stud—a very

high dignity. Kourra remained at this post until he accompanied

the Vizier to Kordofal with the Sultan Tyrab.

I shall say a few words of the origin of this expedition. In former

days there was a Sultan, named Saloun, who divided with his brother

the country which they had inherited—Saloun taking Darfur, and

his brother Kordofal, which had formerly been united under one

government. They swore never to undertake any intrigue one against

the other, and they and their descendants remained in peace for

nearly two centuries, until the time of Sultan Tyrab. Sultan Hashim,

prince of Kordofal, then collected a great army, and being of an

ambitious disposition, determined, it is said, to conquer Darfur. He

began by sending marauding parties to the frontiers, and when his

cousin wrote to him, begging to cease his molestations, answered

insolently. Tyrab, therefore, resolved to make war, or, at least,

chose this as a pretext. The real reason, however, was, that he had

formed a plan for breaking through the law of succession laid down by

Ahmed Bekr at his death. He wished to leave his throne to Izhak, the

Kaliph, and resolved to send the sons and grandsons of Ahmed Bekr,

and of the great people, into battle, that they might be killed, and

so that there should be nobody to oppose his designs. His secret,

however, was discovered, and, indeed, his whole plan subsequently

failed, by the death of his son, Izhak, who was killed in battle,

as will be seen.

At the news of the approach of Tyrab, Hashim fled away with his

suite and family, and took refuge in Sennaar, so that Kordofal was

conquered with ease. The Sultan ransacked the country, and reduced

the people to silence, and remained there until the next year, when

his troops and his followers loudly demanded to be allowed to return

to Darfur. He, however, pretended that Hashim was about to return,

and that it was necessary to remain to resist him. Soon, however,

the disgust of the army increased, and secret councils began to be

held. At one of these, the Vizier, Ali Wad Bargou, whose daughter

Tyrab had married, said boldly,—“What will you give me if I

kill the Sultan? I will get rid of him, and you shall put in his

place whom you please.” Those whose children Tyrab had taken out

to expose them to the danger of being killed promised him great

wealth if he succeeded, and it was agreed that the roll of a drum

should give the signal of assistance.

At close of day Ali Bargou put on two cuirasses of solid mail, and

concealed them with his clothes and, taking his sword, penetrated

into the palace, where was his daughter. He knew the love which

Tyrab bore her, and thought that the prince might be there; but he

found only the princess, who at once perceived something sinister

in his countenance. Ali asked news of the Sultan. She replied,

that she would go and fetch him, and he told her to do so; but at

the same time she perceived the edge of the cuirass shining above

his garment, and went and betrayed him, and the guards came, and,

after a vigorous resistance, put him to death. This done, the drum

of alarm was beaten, and the Viziers and other dignitaries began to

collect, thinking that the conspiracy had succeeded. They found the

Sultan surrounded by his guards, and dressed in a black garment,

with a red turban pulled over his eyes. These are the signs of

anger. The corpse of Bargou was brought out, wrapped in a cloak,

and uncovered. “Now,” said Tyrab, “do you know who that is,

and why he is here?” They thought themselves betrayed, and were

humble, but explained that they desired to return to their own

country. Their language revealed that there was danger of a revolt,

and the Sultan determined to temporise. He promised to return

as soon as his health was re-established, for he pretended to be

ill, and soon afterwards shut himself up in his palace, as if he

were in danger. For this deception he was punished. God afflicted

him in reality with disease, so he wrote a letter to the Kaliph,

Izhak, begging him to come and join him, and presently the news

got abroad that he was at the last extremity: some even said that

he was really dead.

Now, Mohammed Kourra used often to visit Kinaneh, the chief

wife of Tyrab, who bore the title of Yakoury, or queen, which,

however, is sometimes given to the other wives. This princess was

a woman of great sagacity, and, knowing that Tyrab was near death,

spoke to Kourra, and asked his advice. He replied, that the best

plan would be to follow the fortunes of the Orphan, to whom the

empire would certainly fall, and promised that he would get her

named Yakoury, and her son appointed Kaliph. Izhak was sprung from

another legitimate wife of Tyrab. Kourra made the treaty in secret,

and stipulated for the position of Ab, which is always held by an

eunuch. Meanwhile the illness of Tyrab increased, and he called

his Viziers around him, and expressed his last desires, especially

stipulating that the army should be placed under the orders of

Izhak. They promised to obey him, and retired. Shortly afterwards

Tyrab died, and Kinaneh immediately despatched Kourra to the Orphan

with the chaplet of the Sultan, his handkerchief, his seal, and his

amulet, as a proof of the death of the prince. The Viziers, who had

received the last orders of Tyrab, returned and found him dead. They

regretted that they had left him, and immediately embalmed the body,

and placed it in a palanquin, and intended to start for Darfur,

pretending that the Sultan was ill. Their object was to deliver the

whole country into the hands of Izhak. But Sheikh Kourra, in the

meantime, had gone to the Orphan, and told him what had happened,

and he came to the palace with two of his elder brothers, and caused

it to be understood that they knew what had occurred. The Viziers,

who wished to obey the last orders of Tyrab, were astonished, and

began to fear that their plan would fail; but among them was the Emin

Aly Wad Jami, who declared that he would abide by the orders he had

received. So he called Kourra, and said to him,—“Go, and tell

my son, Mohammed, to arm his soldiers, and come to the palace.”

But Kourra, who had gone over to the party of the Orphan, ordered

the soldiers to place themselves under his command; and Aly Jami,

finding himself betrayed, poisoned himself.

CHAPTER IV.

New Sultan — Anecdotes of the Orphan — Death of Izhak — Just

Administration — The Ulemas — A Mamlook Refugee — Conspiracy

— How it was defeated — The Reward of Kinaneh — An ignorant

Vizier — Mohammed Kourra — Instance of his great Wisdom — He

is appointed Ab — Death of Abd-er-Rahman — Fadhl succeeds to

the Throne.

It was now necessary to proceed to the election of a new Sultan, and

after some discussion the council of princes procured the setting

aside of Riz, on account of his violent character, and of Tahir,

on account of the number of his children, and placed Abd-er-Rahman,

the Orphan, upon the throne. Every one was satisfied with the choice,

and great rejoicings filled the country.

The youth of Abd-er-Rahman had been exemplary. He had learned the

Koran by heart, and had applied himself to the study of laws. He

had never imitated the bad habits common to the sons of the Sultans

of Darfur, who used to ride through the country and treat every

Forian as if he had been a slave. From his earliest age he had been

without reproach, and pure, and if he arrived, during his travels,

at any place, he used to say, “I am the host of God,” and if he

were well received, he remained, and, if not, he went his way. It

is related that, in one of his travels, he put up in the house

of a man belonging to the Berli tribe. This man recognised him,

and killed a fat sheep for his sake. Upon which the Orphan said,—

“My friend, might we not have been satisfied with less than

this? If thou hadst killed a fowl, it would have been sufficient.”

“No, my master, no! I swear by God, if I had possessed a she-camel,

I would have killed it for thee! Art thou not Abd-er-Rahman, the

son of our Sultan?”

“And how dost thou know me?”

“I know thee by thy virtues and thy piety, and I predict that

days of glory await thee.”

“Then I, too, swear by the name of God, that if ever I become king,

I will give thee wherewith to enjoy better cheer than this!”

He kept his promise, and when he became Sultan appointed his host to

be tax-gatherer over the Arab tribe called the Madmen. Many similar

stories are told of him, and the country was full of predictions

that it would be the Orphan who would succeed Tyrab. The latter

prince once tried to poison him, but failed. It was generally

reported that his love of science overcame all other passions. He

went about in an old ragged shirt, with a wooden chaplet in his

hand. He remained in celibacy until his beard began to whiten,

being, in fact, too poor to buy a slave or to marry. He never had

a companion until, on his way to Kordofal with his brother, the

Sultan, a king gave him as a present an ugly slave, named Anbousah,

by whom he had a son, the Sultan Mohammed Fadhl, who now reigns.

Abd-er-Rahman distinguished himself by vigour at the outset of his

reign, abolished the custom of seven days of laziness after the

inauguration, and prepared to depart for Darfur, and dispute the

possession of the country with Izhak. The two hostile armies met

and fought twice. During the second battle, it is said, at mid-day

the stars appeared in the sky. I have seen the battle-field; it

is perfectly arid, and I was told that no plant would grow there

on account of the quantity of blood that had been spilt. Izhak was

defeated on both occasions, and retired into the northern provinces,

where he reigned for some time with great cruelty, and gained some

advantages in the war that ensued. The struggle continued for

a long time, until the Kaliph was killed in a battle by Zabady,

an Egyptian fellah, who shot him from a distance. This ended the

war, and Abd-er-Rahman became sovereign of the whole country,

and established his Fasher at Tendelty.

When the Orphan was free from the anxieties of war he applied himself

to administrative reforms, and did everything he could to increase

the prosperity of the country. He repressed the habit of drunkenness

and debauchery that had prevailed, and rendered the roads so secure

that a woman could travel there with all her ornaments. Commerce

increased, and comfort was spread through the country. Justice and

equity prevailed. He had no pity on those who committed an act of

violence or spoliation of any kind, however nearly related.

It has been related to me that he was once met, as he returned

from the chase, by two Arabs, one of whom addressed him in these

words:—“An injustice has been done me, O Rashid![9] may God

preserve thee, an injustice has been done me!” Now, it is the

custom among the Forians, that whoever has been a victim of violence

utters the cry called Karourak, which is never uttered on any other

occasion. The sound is produced by the help of two fingers inserted

into the mouth, and moved rapidly from side to side, whilst the

letter K is intonated, followed by a paralysed R. Well, one of our

Arabs was rolling the Karourak, and repeating “May God preserve the

Rashid, I am the victim of an injustice!” but the Sultan, at first,

paid no heed, either being occupied by some idea, or not hearing,

on account of the sound of the tambourines, and the songs and the

hurrahs of the soldiers. The Arab had Karouraked several times,

and the Sultan had not asked the reason. Then the other Arab said

to his companion, “Let him alone; Rashid is all for himself,

and cares nothing for thee.” The Sultan heard these words, and

asked what was meant. The man replied,—

“My friend here has Karouraked several times, and has complained

to thee. This was the origin of my remark.”

The Sultan smiled, and said,—

“Not so, I am not all for myself. Who has done thee injury?”

“Basy-Khabir.”[10]

Now, Basy-Khabir was one of the relations of the Orphan, who,

however, asked,—“What has he taken from thee?”

“He has taken five she-camels.”

The Sultan inquired into this charge, and having found it to be true,

condemned Khabir to give back ten camels instead of five.

Abd-er-Rahman nominated, as he had promised, Mohammed Kourra to the

post of Father-Sheikh, the highest dignity in Darfur. He who bears

it is invested with the right of life and death, and has a court and

insignia like the Sultan. No one but an eunuch can occupy this post,

because it is feared that whoever occupies it may be induced to

conspire to raise himself to the throne. When Kourra was confirmed

in his dignity of Ab, the Sultan sent him to the provinces, and he

established himself at Aboul-Joudoul.

If the Sultan was severe towards criminals, he was remarkable for

his benevolence for Ulemas and Shereefs, and other learned men,

who came flocking to visit him from all sides. Among these was my

father, who, when he arrived in Darfur, had gone to live at Kobeih,

in the house of a sheikh. Many of the principal learned men of the

country came here to visit him, and beg him to explain the book

of the Sheikh Khalil on Muslim canon law, which he did. The news

of his learning came to the ears of the Sultan, who called him to

his court, and lodged him in the house of one of his sons-in-law,

named Nour-el-Ansary. This man was a Fakih, and loved knowledge. He

studied with my father, and spoke of his learning to the Sultan,

who read on scientific subjects with my father during the month of

Ramadhan. He also requested my father to comment for him the book on

the privileges accorded by God to the Prophet, by a Turkish writer,

and he produced a commentary, called “The Perfect Pearl,”

which he afterwards followed by another work of the same nature,

called “The Equal Pearls.”

Abd-er-Rahman was likewise generous, as well as just and pure in

manners. He was of middle size, of a dark black complexion, with a

beard speckled with white, and a coarse and deep voice. He easily

became angry, but he calmed promptly, and pardoned easily. He was

possessed of presence of mind and tact, of which I shall give

some examples. When the French came to Cairo, and the Mamlouks

were driven away, one of the Kashefs, named Zawanah, fled to

Darfur, along with about ten other Mamlouks. He had with him also

considerable property, with camels, servants, a cook, a valet, and

several grooms; he had also with him a cannon and a howitzer. Upon

his arrival, he was well received by Abd-er-Rahman, who gave him a

dwelling-place, and assigned to him a revenue, and bestowed upon him

numerous female slaves. After a little while he begged permission

to build a house, like those of Cairo; and, having caused bricks

to be baked, got together a number of workmen, chosen among the

black slaves, to cut stones, and constructed a habitation of some

grandeur. He surrounded it by a wall of extraordinary solidity,

with two embrasures turned towards the palace, which this little

fortress completely commanded. The fact was, that this Ghouz had

formed the mad plan of killing Abd-er-Rahman, and seizing on the

government of Darfur. His idea was, that some day, when the Sultan

came out with his courtiers, he would fire a volley of grape-shot

among them, and thus clear the way to the throne.

However, Zawanah feared, that after the accomplishment of the

assassination of the Orphan, the Forians would refuse to obey him. He

therefore put himself in communication with the prince, whose sister

had married Sultan Tyrab, and proposed to him that they should

put his nephew on the throne. The prince agreed to this project,

and the conspiracy widened, until one of the chief courtiers was

tampered with. This man went and betrayed the whole to the Sultan,

who told him to seem to consent, and to keep the secret. Next day

Zawanah went to visit Abd-er-Rahman, who received him with more

distinction than ever, and presented him with a hundred male slaves,

and a hundred female slaves, and a hundred she-camels, and a hundred

jars of butter, and a hundred jars of honey, and a hundred loads

of millet. He clothed him also in a red shawl and a piece of red

cloth, and girded him with the sword, and gave him a horse with

a saddle embroidered with gold. The Kashef, transported with joy,

departed. “These objects,” said he, “are sent to me by God,

to help me towards success!” In the evening, an hour and a-half

after the setting of the sun, the Sultan called one of the kings,

and ordered him to be on the watch with his soldiers for the time

when Zawanah should return to the palace, and then to go and seize

his house, and take possession of everything it contained.

These orders having been given, the Sultan sent a lad to the Kashef,

to invite him to spend the evening, and he came immediately, and

was received with politeness. Some of his servants tried to follow

him, but were stopped at the third gate, and told to wait for their

master. Abd-er-Rahman sat conversing with the Kashef until a late

hour, when he began to say, “I am very hungry,” and ordered

food to be brought. A piece of roast meat was placed before them,

and a knife was called for, but none was at hand. Upon this the

Kashef produced one, and wished to carve; but some of those present

begged him not to give himself that trouble, and took away the

knife. He then produced his poignard, which was also taken from

him. The Sultan now gave a signal, and Zawanah was seized and bound.

“What evil have I done thee,” said the prince, “that thou

shouldest seek to assassinate me, to seduce my soldiers, and lead

them to revolt?”

“Prince, listen to me!”

“God will not listen to thee, even if I were to listen;” and he

gave orders that the Kashef should be put to death immediately. They

cut his throat as they would that of a sheep. Shortly afterwards

they brought to the palace all the wealth that the Kashef possessed,

and there remained nothing in the house, which was demolished,

so that not a trace was left.[11]

The servants and people of Zawanah were pardoned, but all the natives

who had been connected with the conspiracy were, one by one, at

different times, seized and put to death. The brother-in-law of

Tyrab, among others, after having been allowed for some time to

suppose that he was not suspected, was put to death much in the

same way as Zawanah, and all his property was confiscated. All this

was accomplished in the adroitest manner possible; and, one by one,

the whole of Abd-er-Rahman’s enemies fell before him.

It will be remembered that he had promised great privilege and

power to the Yakoury Kinaneh; but, when he had reached the throne,

he neglected to fulfil the promises he had made, either on account

of business, which occupied him, or because he feared something from

this clever woman or her son, Habib. Angry at this indifference,

and finding herself forgotten in the harem, and separated from her

son, who lived at a distance, the Yakoury set on foot a conspiracy

to place Habib on the throne, for she had lost all hope of his

elevation, according to the arrangement made, since a new son had

been born to Abd-er-Rahman. This prince, however, though he had

neglected her, had maintained her in the rank of Yakoury, having

supreme authority in the interior of the palace.

She set about the execution of her project in the following

manner:—

“My son,” said she to Abd-er-Rahman, “wishes to give a

great feast, and I should be glad to help him by sending dishes

from hence.”

The Sultan gave permission, and she accordingly prepared great

wooden bowls, and placed therein coats of mail and swords, and put

food upon the top, and sent forth a hundred at a time, in order to

prepare for an insurrection. Having succeeded the first time, she

allowed some days to pass, and again asked permission to send to her

son the materials of a second repast. Again the Sultan consented,

for he did not suspect that Kinaneh harboured any evil design

against him, for he was a man without guile or thought of evil.

Kinaneh was successful a second time, and, some days afterwards,

she determined to make a third attempt. But, about this time,

Abd-er-Rahman perceived, by accident, with Kinaneh, a young girl whom

she was bringing up, and who was of high birth and extraordinary

beauty. He became enamoured of her, and resolved to speak to the

Yakoury, that he might marry her; but Kinaneh, who had seen the

effect produced by the girl’s beauty, and who destined her for

her son Habib, punished her for allowing herself to be seen. This

was the cause of the failure of her conspiracy. The girl, angered by

her ill-treatment, and knowing of her conspiracy, escaped, and went

and spoke secretly to the Sultan, and announced to him that Kinaneh

was carrying away weapons from the armoury of his highness, and that

all the dishes sent for the festivals concealed cuirasses and swords.

“If you doubt the truth of this,” said she, “upset one of

the bowls which are to be carried forth to-morrow, and you will

be convinced.”

The Sultan begged her not to speak of what she knew to any one,

and she left him agitated and disquieted.

Next day Abd-er-Rahman was informed, by a man whom he had set as a

watch, that the bowls destined for Habib were about to be carried

forth. He went immediately and ordered the covers to be taken off,

that he might look at the dishes prepared. Among them was one of

which he was very fond, so he said,—

“Leave me this, and pour it out into little vases; I want to eat

of it.”

The slaves were about to obey, when Kinaneh came in hastily,

and said,—

“Prince, I conjure you not to touch these dishes. I will prepare

for you exactly similar.”

“No,” said he, “for what you may now make may not please me

so well.”

Kinaneh was obliged to yield, and said,—

“Well, let the slaves carry away the others, and keep that one.”

“No,” said he, “empty it, and when you have filled it again,

you may take away the whole together.”

So the bowl was emptied, and a cuirass was found at the bottom.

“Oh!” said the Sultan, “what is this?”

Kinaneh was troubled, and knew not what to answer. She was

immediately seized, and all the bowls were upset, and found to be

full of weapons and money.

“What evil have I done to thee?” said the Sultan to the

Yakoury. “Wherefore dost thou conspire against me?”

Kinaneh had nothing to say in reply, and she was immediately

put to death. Her son was seized and sent into prison, in the

Marrah mountains, and all his wealth was confiscated. As for his

accomplices, they were put to death every one, and the country

remained tranquil.

Abd-er-Rahman raised to the post of Vizier the Fakih

Malik-el-Foutawy, whom he believed to be a man of knowledge and

property. This man pretended to know the secret of letters and

sciences, although his ignorance was complete. He affected great

piety and contempt of the things of this world. When he was raised

to the Viziership, he caused to be placed under his authority all

the Fullans of Darfur, for he was of that race himself; and he took

their part, and protected them even against just complaints. My

father has related to me, as an instance of the ignorance of this

Vizier, that the Sultan begged him to preach on the day of the

festival of Bairam. He asked my father to compose his oration for

him. So he composed it, and wrote at the end:—“By the servant

of God, the humble one, who implores his bounty, Omar of Tunis,

son of Suleiman, on such a day, of such a year;” and delivered the

paper to the Fakih. On the day of the festival, having prayed with

the Sultan, the Fakih got into the pulpit, and delivered his sermon

with great energy, ending with these words:—“By the servant

of God, the humble one, who implores his bounty, Omar of Tunis,

son of Suleiman, on such a day, of such a year.” He thought this

was part of the sermon.

Let us now return to Mohammed Kourra. The Sultan considerably

extended the power of this Sheikh, and raised him so high that

nobody in the state could approach him. Now the news came that

Hashim, who had been expelled from Kordofal by Tyrab, had returned,

and retaken the country; so Abd-er-Rahman got together a great

army, and placed it under the command of Kourra, who departed,

and completely succeeded. He reconquered Kordofal, and drove Hashim

into the desert. He remained seven years in that country, sending,

from time to time, great riches to his sovereign. But jealous

enemies calumniated him, and Abd-er-Rahman sent a general, with

an army, to replace him. His object was to test the submission of

Kourra. So he gave to the general a pair of fetters, telling him to

put them upon Kourra’s feet, and send him back to Darfur. When

the general arrived in Kordofal he went to Kourra, expecting to

meet with resistance, but the Ab said,—

“Who has ordered thee, and what must be done?”

“I must put these fetters on thy feet, and send thee to the

Sultan.”

“I am ready. Give me the fetters.”

Kourra put them on with his own hand, and called a workman to rivet

them, and next day set out, and in due time arrived in Darfur.

When the Sultan heard of what had taken place, he said to his

courtiers: “Was I not right to say that Kourra would never revolt

against me?” And he sent a person to take off his fetters, and

received the Ab with great state, and gave him a pair of bracelets

of gold, and raised him to a still higher degree of dignity and

power. This wise conduct was afterwards useful to his son, Mohammed

Fadhl. For, when Abd-er-Rahman died, the Ab took charge of the

interests of this prince, and succeeded in placing him upon the

throne. Great energy was required to bring about this result, and

an insurrection took place against the new Sultan, who, in fact, was

a mere boy. Kourra did all he could to instruct him, and to improve

his mind, and to prepare him for government. Fadhl was not a willing

scholar, but he was compelled to obey, and he passed two years in

study, which to him was intolerably disagreeable. During this time

Kourra governed with a strong hand, and kept the country quiet;

but the people around the court, discontented with his severity, at

length excited the Sultan to get rid of him. Kourra, therefore, was

obliged to defend himself by arms, and shortly afterwards perished,

as we have already related, and God knows all things!

CHAPTER V.[12]

Line of African Kingdoms — Takrour — Description of Dar-el-Four

— Wandering Arabs — The Barajoub — The Forians —

North-western Provinces — Dajo and Bijo — Birguids — Marrah

Mountaineers — Division of the Country — Cavern Prisons — A

Visit to the Marrah — Strange Inhabitants — The Sheikh of the

Mountain — Genii — Gathering of Guides — An Oratory — Wild

Savages — The Prisons — Women — Curious Customs — Spirits

called Damzog — Stories of them — Prophetic Drum.

Darfur, or, more properly, Dar-el-fur, the country of Fur, is the

third kingdom of Soudan, counting from east to west. The first

is Sennaar; the second Kordofal; the fourth is Wadaï; the fifth

Bagirmeh; the sixth Bornou; the seventh Adagez;[13] the eighth Afnou;

the ninth Timbuktou; the tenth Dar-Mella, where resides the King

of the Fullan, or Fellatahs.

Formerly, the name of Takrour was applied only to the inhabitants of

Bornou, but it is now extended to all the people who live between

the eastern limit of Wadaï and the western limit of Bornou; so

that it includes, besides these two countries, Bagirmeh, Katakou,

and Mandarah. Some days ago I met, at Cairo, an individual whom I

recognised as a Soudanee. I asked him to what country he belonged. He

replied, “I am a Takrour.” “But from what place?” said

I. After some difficulty, he replied that he was from Bagirmeh.

Darfur is bounded on the east by a sandy and nearly sterile country,

and the same description applies to the provinces situated between

it and Wadaï. Southward are vast plains, stretching to Dar-fertit,

and to the north is the desert, which I have described on my way

from Egypt. The country, which is forty days in length from north

to south, and eighteen days’ breadth, is divided into numerous

provinces, each under the authority of a governor. Some of these

governors bear the title of Sultan, but they are all dependent on

the Sultan of Darfur. Their mode of life is very similar, and their

costume is uniform, except in the case of the Tunjour, who wear a

black turban. I asked one of them the reason. He told me that his

ancestors had formerly been sovereigns of the whole country, but

had been dispossessed by the Forians, and that, since that time,

they had worn the black turban as a sign of mourning.

On the east and south, Darfur is surrounded by tribes of wandering

Arabs, whose wealth consists in cattle, horses, and furniture. They

lead a nomadic life, going from pasturage to pasturage. Some of them

possess great herds of camels. The Sultan of Darfur claims from them

an annual impost, which they sometimes refuse. The Red Masirieh

and the Rezeigat, being the most powerful and most distant in the

desert, only give the refuse of their flocks. The agent who is sent

to collect the tribute is sometimes beaten and killed. Attempts

have been made to punish them by force, but they are generally

repulsed with loss. The Arabs retire, if too hotly attacked, with

their flocks into the Barajoub, a country situated to the south-east

of Darfur. It is a vast marsh, ten days’ journey in extent, but

covered with thick forest. Rain is said to fall there all the year

round, except during two months.

The whole country of Darfur, on both sides of the chain of mountains,

and north and south, is inhabited by a variety of tribes which

do not belong, properly speaking, to the Forian race. The latter,

who speak a language apart, occupy the range of mountains, but have

conquered the whole surrounding country. There are in the country

also a number of people of mixed race, children of strangers.

The districts on the northern frontier are the most fully

populated. They are called Zaghawah and Berti, and exhibit a

remarkable contrast; the people of the latter being gentle and good,

and of agreeable physiognomy, with women of remarkable beauty,

whilst the people of the latter are different from them in every

respect. The corresponding districts, at the southern extremity,

are Dajo and Bijo, and the women of the latter are also more

beautiful than the women of the former. The people of Birguid and

of Tunjour, who occupy the middle provinces, are not contrasted by

personal appearance, but by character; the former being treacherous,

dishonest, and rapacious, without fear of God or the Prophet, whilst

the latter have a certain amount of religion and intelligence. The

mountaineers of Marrah are all savage and brutal in the same degree,

except that at Dar-Abbima, towards the south, both men and women are

more affable and of more agreeable aspect. Glory be to the Creator,

who has permitted these striking contrasts! At Dar-el-Massalit

the beauty of the women is ravishing, silencing the reason and

captivating the heart. Nevertheless, the most beautiful women who

are found in Darfur are, without exception, those of Arab descent;

and the same remark applies to the men.

All the provinces of Darfur, properly so called, are divided into

lots, which constitute so many properties, each belonging to one

of the high dignitaries of the state. The two largest appanages of

this kind are those of Abdima and Tekeniwi. They each have under

their orders twelve governors, bearing the title of “Shartay,”

or prefect. The Aba Oma has under his orders four governors; the

For-an-Aba has also four governors, and the Ab-Sheikh four. Besides

the territories specially assigned to these great functionaries,

there are portions kept for the Emins, Shereefs, Kadis, &c. In this

way it happens that the Sultan really possesses only certain domains,

as Guerly, Tendelty, &c.

About one-half of Darfur is plain country. Towards the east the

land is almost entirely sandy, but the slopes of Mount Marrah are

composed of black mould. This chain, as I have said, traverses nearly

the whole length of Darfur, but is cut into a variety of groups,

by transversal defiles. On this kind of sierra are established

numerous populous tribes. Among these are the Kunjarah, from which

are derived the Sultans of Darfur. In this range are hollowed out

an enormous quantity of caverns, some of which are used as prisons

for the sons of princes, others for viziers, &c.

The Forians of Marrah are well off, possessing abundance of oxen

and sheep. There is no other province the inhabitants of which

can be compared to these mountaineers. All their flocks and herds

feed alone, without guard, and no care is taken against robbers,

or against lions, or against wolves.

In the year 1220 of the Hegira (1805 A.D.) I asked permission of

Sultan Mohammed Fadhl to go and visit the mountain of Marrah, with a

firman from him. He hesitated at first, fearing for me, on account

of the savageness of the inhabitants, but afterwards he allowed me

to depart. He gave me an escort and a firman, addressed to all the

governors of the mountains, enjoining them to aid and protect me,

and allow me to see every thing that was curious, whether apparent or

hidden. I started, accordingly, with two Falkanahwy, or policemen,

two of my own slaves, and an inhabitant of my village. We marched

for two days, and the third we arrived near the mountain, and came

to a village called Numleh, the chief of which was Fakih-Nemr. This

Nemr had two sons. We stopped at their house, and were received

with politeness. Having explained the object of our journey, and

exhibited our firman, they prepared to honour us, and served up

an excellent meal. Next day we went to see the market of Numleh,

which is held every Monday,— men and women crowding thither

from all parts of the mountain, to buy and sell. I beheld there

a remarkably black population, with blood-shot eyes and reddish

teeth. When I appeared, the astonished crowd collected around me:

they marvelled at my brown complexion, flushed with red. Every one

came in a succession of crowds to examine me. They had never seen

before an Arab of my colour, and it entered into their heads that

it would be a curious thing to kill me, that they might examine

me more at their leisure. But I did not understand the subject

of their discussion until I saw my escort draw their swords, and

interpose between the crowd and me. I asked what was the reason of

this movement, and they answered,—

“These blacks wish to kill thee.”

“And wherefore?”

“They are ignorant brutes, and say that thou camest into the

world before thy time; that thou art not a ripe man. Others pretend

that thy skin is so thin that, if a fly were to prick thee, all thy

blood would start out. Another has proposed to give thee a wound,

to discover how long it would take to empty thy veins. This is why

we feared for thy life.”

My people took me away from the market, beating back the crowd

as we went. It was with some difficulty that we escaped. From

thence we proceeded to a valley, which we found to be shaded by

date-trees and bananas, and some lemon-trees, and plentifully sown

with onions, garlic, red-pepper, cumin, coriander, fenugreek, and

short and long cucumbers. It was autumn, and the dates were just

beginning to blush. They cut for me two clusters of the red fruit,

and two clusters of the yellow, and they gave me a great gourd

full of honey, of which I have never tasted or smelt the equal. We

passed the night pleasantly in that place, and in the morning began

traversing a series of valleys, divided by ranges of hills, each

about a mile in breadth. Everywhere was a luxuriant cultivation,

and the running streams, that glanced over their sandy beds, seemed

like streaks of silver. Each valley is bordered on either hand by

a kind of hedge of trees, which cause it to resemble a winding

avenue. We sat down in a shady place: a fat kid was killed, and

we feasted upon it with delight. We then proceeded to a village at

the foot of the mountain, where we were well received, and rested

till next morning, when we climbed the great range. We were three

hours in reaching the summit. On all sides, upon the slopes, we saw

numerous villages, and an ample population. We were taken to the

Sheikh of the mountain, named Abou-Bekr, whom we found alone. He

was a very old man, covered with wrinkles. When we had saluted him,

he welcomed us, and bade us sit down.

It is remarkable, that the summit of these mountains is only

completely free from clouds for a few days of the year. There

is sufficient rain to allow wheat to come to perfection. Few

harvests can be compared to these, except those of Barbary and

Europe. The rest of Darfur, with the exception of a few cantons,

where well-water is used, does not produce wheat. On a certain day

of the year the Sheikh, or Old Man of the Mountain, of whom we have

spoken, is visited in crowds by the people for consultation. On that

solemn day, set apart for divination, he predicts what is to come

to pass during the year,—drought or rain, war or peace, serenity

or misfortune, disease or health. His prophecies are profoundly

believed; but the Forians differ in opinion about the source and the

cause of the power which he possesses of seeing into the future. Some

pretend that he works by Divine inspiration, and that he who wears

the dignity of Sheikh of the Mountain, is necessarily, and always,

illuminated of God, and a holy personage. This is the explanation

of the learned men of Darfur. Others declare that the genii tell

him what is to come to pass. For my part, I do not know what value

should be assigned to these two opinions; but this I do know, that

many prophecies are attributed to him which have not been fulfilled.

On hearing the contents of our firman, the Old Man of the Mountain

overwhelmed us with kindness, and ordered a meal to be prepared. Then

he sent out some one to the east of the hill with orders to beat

the great tambourine, called “Tenbel,” and presently from all

sides numerous people came streaming towards us. From the crowd thus

collected he chose a hundred young men, and appointed over them,

as chief, one of his relations, called the Fakih Zaid, celebrated

for his courage. He expressly ordered this troop not to quit me

for a moment, and to be ever on their guard against the rustic

brutality of the mountaineers.

We got on horseback and rode away over the high land towards a

solitary peak which specially bears the name of Marrah, and from

which the whole chain has so been called. There we found a kind of

small oratory, esteemed highly sacred by the people, who venerate it

equally with the mosques. An enormous tree overshadows this oratory,

on which the sun never shines. We entered and sat down awhile. There

are several servants of the place whose duty it is to keep it clean,

and to receive the offerings or ex-votoes of visitors.

Proceeding on our journey, the soldiers of Zaid marching in front,

we soon beheld a multitude of men and women running towards us from

all sides. I was looked upon as an extraordinary being. There was

a perfect scramble to get sight of me. They pushed and shoved one

another, and though the escort closed around they could scarcely

keep off the crowd. These strange people were saying one to the

other, “The Sultan has sent to us a man born before his time,

that we may eat him.” Others exclaimed, “No; this is not a human

being, but an animal under the form of a man, whose flesh is good

to eat.” These mountaineers cannot believe in the existence of

men with white skins and rosy complexions.

These savages know of Arabic only the few words which compose the

confession of faith, and these they pronounce wildly with a broken,

jerking manner. However, the agreeable reflections of the populace

were translated to me, and I became afraid. Zaid also, finding it

impossible to keep off the crowd in any other way, told me to hide

my face in the shawl of my turban, leaving only my eyes visible;

so I veiled myself and stood in the midst of the soldiers. The

negroes, no longer seeing my face, were stupified and said,—

“Where is the red fellow?”

“He has returned to the Sultan,” was the reply, and by degrees

they left us.

We now proceeded to the state-prisons, that is to say, the caverns

where the sons of princes and viziers are incarcerated. The gaolers

at first plumply refused admission, and we almost came to a serious

quarrel, but Zaid read out my firman, and the chief was calmed. He

then said that I might go into the caverns alone, if I pleased, but

that my companions must remain aloof. I refused to take advantage

of this permission, fearing that some evil might befall me, and

expressed my wish to depart.

It is the custom among the mountaineers of Marrah, that no one

shall marry a woman until he has lived with her, and had by

her one or two children, and thus convinced himself that she is

fruitful. Then the man remains with the woman, and regards her as

his wife. Women do not, as with us, avoid the society of men. If a

husband, on returning home, finds his wife conversing with a man,

he is not angry unless with good cause. Young boys and girls do not

conceal any part of their bodies until the age of puberty. At that

age the boys wear a shirt and the girls a kind of short petticoat;

but from the navel upwards they remain quite naked.

The Forians of Marrah are brutal and passionate, especially in a

state of drunkenness. They are excessively avaricious, and never

receive any guests besides their parents, except for interested

motives. They have no idea of cleanliness, no variety or art in the

preparation of their food; they eat indifferently whatever they see

that seems eatable. Bitter or rotten substances are not cast away,

and they sometimes even prefer this kind of food to others. In every

village the young men have a chief whom they call Wornan, and the

young girls also have a chief called Meirem. On days of rejoicing,

festivals and ceremonies, the Wornan assembles his lads, and all

go and sit down in a large place. Then the Meirem appears with her

damsels, and advances a little a-head of them and sits down. The

chief of the young men comes forward and talks with her, and then she

orders her girls to divide themselves among the youths; so each one

takes away a companion and goes and passes the time where he pleases.

In Darfur the men devote themselves alone to no trade except that

of war, from which alone the women are dispensed. Both sexes follow

their occupations pell-mell, except that the most fatiguing work is

given to the women. Men and women remain always together night and

day; and it is remarkable that, contrary to the opinion of Europe,

the constant society of the female sex does not in any way soften

the manners of the country. The people of Marrah do not consume

the wheat which they harvest, but sell it and buy millet.

The most singular thing I heard related whilst I was in these

mountains is this, that the genii act as guardians of the cattle. It

is for this reason that the herds are left to wander where they

will. Many persons assured me seriously that if any one, passing

near a flock and seeing it without a guard, should attempt to

steal a sheep or a cow, and to kill the beast, his hand, still

armed with the knife, would remain fastened to the throat until

the arrival of the owner. I have a hundred times heard instances

of protection afforded by the genii, but was at first inclined

to reject the whole as lies and dreams. But this is what happened

to myself. Being near the Marrah mountains I went to a person of

Numleh, to question him about the genii. On drawing near his hut

I saw nobody, but began to call him by his name. Then a loud and

terrible voice, which made me shiver, shouted “Akibe!” that is

to say, “He is not here.” Nevertheless, I was going to advance

and pursue my inquiries, when an individual, who was passing by me,

took me by the arm and drew me away, saying,—

“Be off! be off! He who speaks to thee is not a human being.”

“And what is he, then?”

“He is the guardian genius of the hut. Nearly every one of us is

thus protected. We call the genii in Forian, Damzog.”

Upon this I feared and withdrew.

On returning from the Marrah to the Fasher, I went to visit the

Shereef Ahmed Bedawee, who had brought me from Cairo to Darfur,

and related to him this adventure and my terror. “The man was

perfectly right,” said Ahmed, who went on to relate to me things

still more wonderful. “At the time when I first began to trade,

my friend, I often heard that damzogs could be bought and sold,

and that to procure one I must apply to the owner of a damzog, and

discuss the price with him. When the bargain is concluded, it is

necessary to give a large gourd of milk to the seller, who takes it

to his house, where are his damzogs. On entering he salutes them,

and goes and hangs up his vase to a hook, saying,—‘One of my

friends—such a one—very rich, is in fear of robbers, and asks

me to supply him with a guardian. Will one of you go and live in his

house? There is plenty of milk there, for it is a house of blessing,

and the proof thereof is, that I bring you this kara of milk.’

The damzogs at first refuse to comply with the invitation. ‘No,

no,’ say they, ‘not one of us will go.’ The master of the

hut conjures them to comply with his desires, saying,—‘Oh! let

the one that is willing descend into the kara.’ He then retires

a little, and presently one of the damzogs is heard to flop into

the milk, upon which he hastens and claps upon the vase a cover

made of date-leaves. Thus stopped up he unhooks the kara, and

hands it over to the buyer, who takes it away and hangs it on the

wall of his hut, and confides it to the care of a slave or of a

wife, who every morning comes and takes it, emptying out the milk,

washing it and re-plenishing it, and hanging it up again. From that

time forward the house is safe from theft or loss. For my part,

I believed all these things to be absurdities.

“Well, my wealth increased; but my slaves and servants constantly

robbed me. Vainly did I have recourse to all kinds of means to

prevent them; I was always duped. One day I complained to a friend,

who recommended me to buy a damzog, certifying that I should be

thus effectually protected. The desire of preserving my property

induced me to comply, and so I went to a possessor of damzogs,

and bought one in the way I have described. I appointed a slave

to watch over the kara, and from that day forward I was free from

care. I even left my warehouse-door open, and nobody in my absence

dared to approach. I had there considerable wealth and abundance

of merchandise. If anybody attempted to steal he was immediately

prevented by the damzog. In this way he killed several of my slaves.

“My son, Mohammed, was now growing up. The love of women was

his chief passion. He wished, in order to enable him to pursue

his conquests with greater ease, to make some presents of beads

and ornaments. So he watched a favourable moment, and one day,

without my perceiving it, took the keys of the workshop and opened

it; but he had scarcely entered it when the damzog broke his neck,

and killed him on the spot. I loved my son tenderly. The news of

his death was a thunderbolt to me. My grief was indescribable. I

inquired into the cause of his death, and was told that he was

attempting to take my goods when the damzog killed him. Then I

swore that the damzog should no longer remain in my house, and

endeavoured to drive it away, but in vain. I took counsel of a

friend, who said to me:—‘Prepare a great repast, and invite

a number of guests, warning them to come in a single troop, armed

with guns and powder. They must all together fire a volley at the

entrance of thy workshop, shouting aloud in Forian, ‘Damzog ah

aiye?’— Where is the damzog? The volleys must be repeated,

always accompanied by the same cry, and the crowd must enter the

place where the merchandise is guarded by the genius. In general the

damzog is frightened, and flies away.’ I performed this ceremony,

and thanks be to God the damzog disappeared.”

It has often been related to me, that among the great drums, or

tymbals, preserved in the dwelling of the Sultan, there is one

called the “Victorious,” especially patronised by the damzogs,

and that sometimes this instrument resounds when no one is near. This

phenomenon announces that some great event is about to happen—some

foreign or intestine war.

The habits and manners of the other tribes of Darfur, such as

the Berti, the Dajo, the Bijo, &c., are pretty nearly the same as

those of the people of Marrah. If some of them differ by being more

hospitable and benevolent, they owe this improvement to association

with Bedawin Arabs, and of the merchants who come to them from Egypt

and other distant countries. Those who received strangers best are

those who speak the Arabic language.

CHAPTER VI.

Philosophy of Geography — Absolute Authority of Princes — Order

of Succession — Old Women Counsellors — Strange Customs —

Public Audiences — Servility — Barbarian Etiquette — Clothing

of the Buaso — Superstitions — Festival of the Sowing — Court

of Tendelty — A Perilous Office — Taxes — King of the Buffoons

— Birds of the South — Music and Songs — Abd-er-Rahman and

the Ulemas — The Yakoury — Queen Mothers.

In examining the different forms of empire, the varieties of tastes

and habits, it is evident that the great Creator—may His Majesty

be glorified!—has multiplied their different aspects in order

to show us the immensity of his power and the profoundness of his

wisdom. Moreover, God has impressed a different character on every

climate. There are cold climates and hot climates, and temperate

climates, according to their distance from the equinoctial line. If

God had wished it, he could have made of all nations a single nation;

but he has assigned to them dissemblances, in order to incite men

to travel, and to learn that of which they are ignorant. Having

stated these truths, let us come to the point.

The Forian princes have customs different from those of other

princes. The sovereign of Darfur exercises boundless despotic

power. He may put to death thousands of individuals, and no one

asks him wherefore. He may degrade whom he pleases, and no one asks

him wherefore. His orders, however adverse they may be, are always

obeyed, and no one resists, even by a word. The only resource is

to cry for mercy; but, if the Sultan chooses to commit an act of

injustice, the hatred it excites remains for ever concealed.

In Darfur the sovereign must be of the blood of the Sultans. No

stranger, not even a descendant of the Prophet, can pretend to the

throne. When a prince is invested with power, he rests for a week

in his dwelling, without issuing orders of any kind. During this

space of time no affair is brought before his tribunal. The Sultan

Abd-er-Rahman was the first who derogated from this custom.

The Forian Sultans are surrounded by a kind of Aulic body, composed

of old women, called Habbobah, under the orders of one of their

numbers, called the queen. When the Sultan leaves his privacy of

seven days these old women unite, bearing iron switches, about

two feet long, which they clash one against another, producing a

singular sound. One of them bears a kind of broom of date-branches,

which she dips into a prepared liquid, and therewith, from time to

time, sprinkles the Sultan, uttering certain mysterious words. Then

they conduct the new prince from his private dwelling to the House

of Brass, where the tymbals of the Sultan are kept. Having entered,

they take the Victorious tymbal and place it in the midst. The Sultan

remains alone with the Habbobah, who continue to clash their twigs

of iron, and to repeat their mysterious exclamations. After this

ceremony they lead the prince to the place where is the imperial

throne.

The movement of public affairs now begins, and the sovereign opens

his Divan. He never addresses the ordinary words of salutation

to any one, however great, except through the medium of an

interpreter. Those who obtain audience place themselves on their

knees, and an interpreter repeats their names, adding a form of word

to this effect: “Such a one salutes you humbly.” Having gone

through the whole, he adds, “and their people or their children

are behind them.” Then the negroes, who are standing in the rear

of the prince, begin to cry out “Salutation! salutation!” If the

assembly is great, a large wooden urn, shaped like an inverted cone,

and covered with a skin, called a dingar, is beaten. It gives a great

sound, and is not used on any other occasion. On grand occasions,

there are seven interpreters ready to explain the petitions of

persons who come to ask for justice. The forms of salutation are

very intricate.

The people of Darfur have many singular ways of expressing veneration

for the majesty of the Sultan. Among others, whenever he clears

his throat, his spittle is immediately gathered up from the ground

by his servants with their hands.[14] When he coughs, as if about

to speak, everybody makes the sound of _ts_, _ts_ as nurses do to

amuse their little ones; and, when he sneezes, the whole assembly

imitates the cry of the jeko, which resembles that of a man urging

on his horse to speed. In grand council, the Sultan is fanned with

a large bunch of ostrich-feathers. When he goes out to hunt he is

shaded by a parasol of the same material; and these insignia are

under the special care of a high official. If the Sultan, being

on horseback, happens to fall off, all his followers must fall off

likewise; and should any one omit this formality, however great he

may be, he is laid down and beaten.[15]

A strange ceremony is sometimes celebrated by the Forian princes. It

is called the Clothing of the Buaso, and consists in renewing the

skins of the great tymbals, called in Egypt Nakarieh. The ceremony is

one of the greatest solemnity, and every year lasts seven days. In

the first place, all the tymbals must be stripped on one day—which

done, bulls, with dark grey skins, are slaughtered to supply the

new coverings. It is pretended that these bulls are of a particular

species, and that, when they are about to be slaughtered, they lie

down quietly, and submit without resistance. They are killed without

the ordinary preamble of “B’ism Illah;” and it is said that

they are thus held down and kept tranquil by genii. When they are

slaughtered the flesh is separated from the bones and skin, and

put into large jars of salt for six days, at the end of which other

animals are slaughtered, and the flesh mixed. Tables are then laid

out, and all the sons of the Sultan, and all the Kings, and all the

Viziers, are invited, and compelled to eat. There are inspectors

at each table to see that nobody fails; for if any one does so,

it is believed that he is a traitor. No conspirator, in fact, can

eat of this food. If any one keeps away, under pretence of illness,

a plate of meat is brought to him, and if he declines to eat, he is

seized. Many pretend that for this festival a young boy and a young

girl, not yet arrived at the age of puberty, are slaughtered, cut up,

and mixed with the salt meat; and it is added that the boy must be

called Mohammed, and the girl Fatmeh. If this be true, these men

must be infidels and barbarians. For my part, I have seen nothing

of this ceremony, foreigners never being allowed to be present.

Before the meat is served up, a general review of all the troops

takes place at the Fasher, and, afterwards, the Sultan repairs in

state, first to his palace, and then to the House of Brass. Arrived

there, he takes a drumstick, and strikes three blows on the

Victorious Nakarieh. The corps of old women is there still, beating

their twigs of iron. If any Governor or Vizier happens to be away

at the time of this ceremony, instead of the trial by meat-eating,

he is subjected to the trial by Killi,—that is to say, he is

compelled to drink water in which the fruit of that name has been

infused. If he be not a conspirator, he immediately vomits; but,

if he be guilty, he can drink a large jar-full without doing so. I

have seen the experiment tried on a person accused of theft. It is

possible that these effects may depend on some particular properties

of the Killi, for in Darfur there are many plants of singular virtue,

of which we shall speak, if it please God.

There is a remarkable custom, called the Festival of the Sowing,

in Darfur. The Sultan possesses, as his domain, cultivable land,

which is sown every year. After the rains, he goes forth in great

pomp, escorted by more than a hundred young women, chosen amidst

the most beautiful, and adorned with their richest garments and

jewels. These women are the best-beloved of his harem. They wear

upon their heads vases filled with the most delicate viands, and

they walk behind the Sultan’s horse with the young slaves, called

korkoa, armed with lances, and with a troop of flute-players. They

move on with music and singing, and even the young girls join in the

concert. When the prince has reached the open country, he gets out of

the saddle, and taking different kinds of grain whilst a slave turns

up the ground with a hoe, casts them in. This is the first seed that

falls in the country where the Sultan then is. Afterwards the kings,

viziers, the officers of the court, following the example of the

Sultan, also cast in grain, and the whole plain is soon quickened

for the harvest. This done, the dishes are brought by the young

girls, and spread out before the Sultan, who begins to eat with

his courtiers. Then the whole party get into the saddle again,

and return in a grand cavalcade to the Fasher. This Festival of

the Sowing is one of the most solemn in Darfur.[16]

The court of Tendelty is organised in a very complete and singular

manner. The different dignitaries are named after different parts

of the Sultan’s body. The Orondolon, for example, means the head

of the Sultan, and his duty is to march in the van of the troops;

the Kamneh, or neck of the Sultan, is still higher in rank, but

his privileges are counterbalanced by one extraordinary duty,

viz. that of allowing himself to be strangled if the king happens

to be killed in battle. After these functionaries come the backbone,

and the right arm, and the left arm, each with different duties. The

Ab-Sheikh, or Father-Sheikh, is above all the before-mentioned

dignitaries in rank. He is almost the equal of the Sultan, and

possesses the right of life and death without control. There are

numerous other officials, each with distinct duties. One of the

principal is the King of the Door of the Women, or Chief of the

Eunuchs. There is also the King of the Slaves, of the Custom-House,

and of the Tax-gatherers. None of these officers receive any direct

payment, but all have extensive districts assigned to them, from

the revenues of which they are expected to supply arms, clothing,

and horses for themselves and their soldiers.

The tithe of grain and of cattle belongs exclusively to the Sultan;

but each of the governors has private property, which is cultivated

by forced labour. They have also the right to impound and appropriate

all wandering property, as slaves, oxen, sheep, and asses. All fines

also go to them. For example, if one man wounds another, he pays

so much for the blood spilt, all of which goes to the governor,

whilst, if death ensues, only one-half does, the remainder going

to the parents of the deceased. If a man intrigues with a married

woman, both the guilty parties are compelled to pay a fine. It must

also be remembered that all kinds of labour are taken by force,

and used gratuitously.

I must not forget to speak of the Kingship of the Maugueh, or

Buffoon of the Sultan. This is the least respectable office in

the court, but it is sufficiently interesting to describe. The

Forians have a natural tendency to pleasure, to gaiety, to games,

and festivals. They pass no day without some entertainment; kings and

people share the same passion; and they have invented every possible

means of enjoyment, and all kinds of instruments. Every king has

a train of young boys, chosen for the beauty of their voice, and

called Korkoa. They are supplied with pipes made of reeds, through

which they not only blow, but sing, mixing up the notes and the

words in a singular manner. They are accompanied by a remarkable

instrument, consisting of a dried gourd, in which some pebbles have

been introduced, and which are shaken in time to the notes and

pauses of the flutes. Often the Sultan, on ceremonial occasions,

causes this band to be followed by his harem, bearing dishes;

and on these occasions, a drum resembling the araboukka of Egypt,

is added to the concert. There are masters in Darfur who teach

both music and singing. The singers precede the Sultan in groups,

one individual of which begins a stanza, while the others sing

the chorus. On these occasions, when the whole crowd of horse and

footmen are beating tambourines, or playing on flutes or pipes,

or singing, the noise created is perfectly stunning. The flutes

are called the Birds of the South, because in Southern Darfur are

found many birds with agreeable notes, from which it is said the

Forians have learned their style of playing.

To the above musical entertainment are added the songs of the

Maugueh, who form a considerable corporation, having a special

king. They have not only to perform the droll duties of buffoons, but

many others, and especially the horrible one of executioner. Commonly

the Maugueh wear a kind of band round their heads, with a plate of

iron on their foreheads, in which is loosely fastened a long horn or

nail, which shakes and tinkles as they move. This is shaded by one

or two ostrich-feathers. They wear iron anklets, and each carries

a leathern bag in which to place these ornaments, as well as their

tartour, or tall, conical cap, covered with shells and beads, when

they have finished their sittings. In their hands they carry a crook,

to which are suspended little bells.

Two or three of these buffoons generally stand up before the Sultan

when he holds a divan; and when he travels or hunts several go before

him, singing, dancing, mimicking the bark of a dog or the mewing

of a cat, and uttering various absurdities to create a laugh. Their

songs are in the Forian language, never in Arabic. Their dance does

not consist of contortions of the hips, like that of Egypt, but they

shake the head from one side to the other, and, striking their legs

together, make their anklets jingle. When the Sultan is very far from

the Fasher they cease to sing, but all together, at the top of their

voices, cry, “Ya! ya!” as long as the prince is on horseback.

Every governor has buffoons of his own. These odd beings care little

for the anger of their master. They have a right of familiarity,

even with the Sultan. They conceal nothing that they learn against

the private character of the courtiers, but bawl out their scandalous

stories in full divan. They have stentorian voices, and are also

used as criers. They may often be heard after sunset screaming out

in the streets.

The Sultan Abd-er-Rahman loved the Ulemas, and was frequently with

them night and day. He never appeared in council without having

one or two with him. This difference excited the jealousy of the

Viziers. “What,” said they, “does the Sultan prefer these

fellows to us? Verily, after him we will take care not to put upon

the throne a Sultan who can read and write.” A Maugueh heard these

words, and, dissimulating, waited for a day of public assembly. The

Viziers were present, and the buffoon began to say, “Certainly, we

will take care not again to elect a Sultan who can read and write.”

The Sultan turned round and inquired, “Wherefore?”

“Because thou preferrest the company of the Ulemas to that of

the Viziers.”

Irritated at this observation, the Sultan glanced furiously at him,

so that he feared for his skin, and added,—“I am not to blame,

for I overheard these people,” pointing to the Viziers, “say

these words.”

This created a scene of reproach and anger, and suggested to me this

observation,—“The ignorant are always enemies of the learned.”

Sultan Tyrab one day gave a great festival. The Sultan began

examining the dishes one after another, in order to see which were

the best. Some of them had been prepared by the hands of the Yakoury

Kinaneh herself. Tyrab tasted them, and, finding them excellent,

ordered them to be reserved for the Ulemas. Kinaneh objected,

saying,—“Shall I be Yakoury to cook for Sheikhs, whilst others

cook for Viziers and Kings?” The King replied, that she would

thereby gain the blessings of these holy men. But an altercation

ensued; she swore by her head that the Ulemas should not taste them,

and female perseverance prevailed.

I must add that the buffoons are generally chosen amongst the

poorest kind of people. They go begging from door to door, always

with success, for the great people fear them as spies. Whoever treats

them well acquires their praises; but those who seem to check them

are sure to be despised and scandalised. In this they resemble

poets, who have incense for their friends and sarcasms for their

enemies. The Yakoury is the mother of the Sultan. I have seen the

mother of Sultan Mohammed Fadhl. She was an ugly slave, who would not

have fetched ten dollars. I have also seen his grandmother, a hideous

old woman, more hideous than any other in the whole country, and

nearly imbecile. It was her pleasure, whenever she travelled, to be

carried on a kind of stool on the shoulders of men, and surrounded by

a numerous escort of soldiers. One day she was told that the people

said, speaking of her, “This slave tyrannises over and torments

us.” She caused herself to be carried to the divan, and cried,

“The slave! The slave has brought forth silver, and silver has

brought forth gold!” alluding to her relationship to the Sultan.

CHAPTER VII.

The Fasher — The Ligdabeh — A Race — Audience on Horseback —

Tendelty — Fountains — Huts — The Palace — Police Regulations

— Costume — The Litham — Materials of Clothing — Women’s

Dresses — Ornaments — Lovers — Jealousy — Intercourse of

the Sexes — A Story of Love — The Sultan’s Interference —

War against Drunkenness — Marriage Expenses — Strange Customs

— Buying a Wife — Betrothal.

The dwelling of the Sultan is in the interior of the Fasher;

that is to say, the town or borough which is chosen for his

ordinary residence, and the houses or huts of the inhabitants

around. This dwelling-place has two external gates, one called

the gate of the men, and the other the gate of the women. The

first leads to the great divan, which is a shed built of wood,

open on all sides. Large beams support the roof, which is made of

fascines. The ceiling is now sufficiently high to allow a man upon

a camel to ride through. Formerly, only a man on horseback could

pass. It happened, one day, that two Arabs presented themselves,

and quarrelled about their skill in camel-riding. It was agreed

that they should have a race within the Ligdabeh, or divan. The

Sultan and his courtiers went out and collected around to see this

singular contest. The two champions started off from a distance at

full gallop. On arriving near the Ligdabeh, one of them leaped upon

the roof, and, running along, dropped into his seat again just as

the camel came out at the other side. The other threw himself under,

and held on until he was also outside, when he swung up again into

his seat. There was a great discussion as to who had gained the

bet; but the Sultan decided in favour of the second. It was after

this incident that the roof was raised to its present height. When

there is a public meeting, the Sultan sits on an elevated seat,

placed on a platform in the midst, with the Ulemas on the right,

and Shereefs and great people on the left. When a solemn divan is

held for the reception of ambassadors, or for a public festival,

the platform is decorated with trappings embroidered with gold, and

a stool of ebony, with a cushion of silk, is placed in the midst

for the Sultan, who assumes an imposing and majestic air. All the

great dignitaries and the seven interpreters have their appointed

place. On some occasions, the Sultan gives audience on horseback,

and has horses trained to remain for hours in the same posture.

Tendelty is now the capital of Darfur, and has been so ever since

1206, or 1791 of the Christians. It is built on a plain of sand,

and traversed by a torrent, which joins the great stream of the

valley of Kou. The rains of autumn fill it, so that it can only

be crossed at a great distance from the city. Towards the end

of winter, the greater part of the water dries away, and wells

are dug in the sand. The Sultan uses this water; but, as he fears

that some ill-intentioned persons may cast a charm into the well,

he sometimes, without warning, sends to the well of Gedeed el Seil,

which is distant about a parasang to the east.

The dwellings of the Forians are generally huts constructed of

millet-stalks, and are surrounded with a hedge of prickly bushes, at

some distance, and by a second enclosure of millet-stalks. Wealthy

persons possess many huts within the same enclosure. The wealth of

a man is known by the whiteness and cleanness of his huts, and the

inner enclosure. There are pens within the hedge for the flocks.

The huts are round, and resemble tents in appearance. They are of

different classes and names. Some of them are surmounted by a stick,

on which are three or four ostrich eggs, separated by balls of red

clay. In addition to these, the huts of the Sultan are ornamented

with horizontal bands of red and white stuff. Those of the women of

the Sultan, and, indeed, of many wealthy people, have the external

wall of mud, and the roof of a rare kind of reed, the possession

of which is considered a sign of wealth.

The imperial enclosure is situated on a slight elevation, a little

to the north of the torrent, and covers an extent of three hundred

paces. The hedge is very thick, and is formed of three rows of

prickly shrubs, with the spaces filled up by trunks of trees. The

whole forms a regular palisade, surpassing the height of a man,

and is carefully kept in order. The gates, which are well guarded,

are made of long poles tied together, and are fastened with an

iron chain and padlocks. A great number of dwellings and offices

are included within the enclosure. The women occupy a considerable

space, and there are several sheds where slaves are engaged all

day in grinding millet and wheat between two stones.

All the inhabitants of Tendelty are compelled to remain, invariably,

in the quarter of the city where they are first established,

from father to son. All people employed, also, are forbidden to

change their place. This rigid rule is ever preserved upon warlike

expeditions. Every one is compelled to encamp exactly in the same

relation to the Sultan’s tent, so that, in fact, at every halt,

a miniature representation of the city is created. In this way,

if the Sultan is in want of anybody, it is always possible to find

him immediately.

The garments worn in Darfur are all light, but of various forms

and colours. Rich people have black or white dresses of very fine

tissue. The Sultan and other great people wear two long shirts

of fine stuff, imported from Egypt, or made in Darfur. The white

garments are very brilliant, and all clothing is kept perfectly

clean. The Sultan wears a Cashmere turban on his head, which no

one else is allowed to do. Moreover, he wraps up his face with a

piece of white muslin, which goes round his head several times,

covering his mouth and nose first, and then his forehead, so that

only his eyes can be seen.[17] The Orondolon and the Kanineh,

and the male children of the royal family, also cover their face,

except when they are in the palace. The Sultan is also distinguished

by a gilded scimetar, by his sacred amulet box, by his parasol and

fans of feathers, by his gilded saddle and stirrups, and by the

peculiar trappings of his horse.

The stuff with which the rich clothe themselves commonly are

muslin and English calico: silk dresses are only used on great

occasions. The Forians, who are well off, wear a kind of mantle,

in several different ways. Some curious stuffs are imported from

the West: among others, the Gadany, which is black, with a shade

of red. The dye used is indigo. People who can afford it wear

drawers, and upon their heads the tarboosh, or red cap. The poor

go bare-headed, and cover their bodies with a single garment.

The women wear a piece of stuff tied round the waist, and the young

girls hide their bosoms with a kind of kerchief made of silk, of

calico, or of coarse stuff, according to their means. All the girls

wear round their middle a thick band and kind of kilt. When a girl

is married, she wears a great izar, which covers her from head to

foot. Most women have a ring in their nose, sometimes of gold, but

often of silver or copper. It sometimes bears a few beads of red

coral. Many wear great ear-rings of silver, six ounces in weight,

supported, in part, by a string, which passes over the head. The poor

thrust a little piece of red coral or a long bead through the hole

in their nostril, and pieces of stick through their ears. They wear

various kinds of necklaces, made of beads, of amber, of coral, of

agate, and of glass. These, indeed, form their principal ornaments;

but they are also fond of wearing little talismanic chaplets about

their heads, made of berries, of beans, or of shells. The Forian

women also cover their bodies with various strings of beads, load

their arms with bracelets made of iron, of horn, or of copper,

and the ankles with anklets. They use different kinds of perfumes:

among others, the sun-bul, or _Spica Celtica_, sandal-wood, and

myrtle. Great people carry musk-bags.

The Forian women make a kind of kahl with native antimony, but they

do not put it inside the eye as in Egypt, but use it externally. They

also colour therewith the eyelids of their lovers or their affianced,

and for this reason many boys are seen thus adorned. It is the custom

for a lover to receive some object of dress from his mistress, which

he wears with pride, and never separates from. If any misfortune

happen to him, he exclaims, by way of consolation,—“No matter,

I am the brother (that is, the lover) of such a one.” Under

similar circumstances his mistress consoles herself by similar words.

Jealousy is rare among the Forians. If a man find any one with

his daughter or his sister, he rather rejoices than otherwise,

foreseeing a marriage. When the form of a young Forian girl begins

to develope, she is placed in a hut apart, where she sleeps alone,

and he who loves her comes to see her when he pleases, and passes

the time with her. Many unmarried girls bring forth children;

and this is not considered shameful, even if an incest has taken

place. The offspring, in these cases, is put down to the account

of a maternal uncle; and, if it be a girl, the uncle profits by

the dowry which the husband receives. It is impossible to prevent

this intercourse of men and women. A father sometimes, if he be

poor, is mobbed, or even killed, if he endeavours to preserve his

daughter’s chastity; and even rich people find it difficult to

succeed in this. Whatever be the care taken, some lover will find

his way in, disguised as a woman.

A distinguished man of Darfur once had seven sons and a daughter of

perfect beauty. Many suitors presented themselves for the latter,

but were refused. Time passed, and the young girl had recourse

to stratagem, and introduced into her hut a handsome youth full

of courage and resolution. They remained together as long as

it pleased God. His parents, disquieted by his absence, sought

for him everywhere, but found him not. However, one day, having

drunk deeply with his mistress, he became excited, and wished to

go forth. “Wait until the night,” said she. But he refused,

and went out. It happened, however, that the father and his seven

sons were sitting at the gateway of the enclosure, and perceived

him as he approached. The father cried out to the gatekeeper to

shut the gate, and to seize on the intruder. He was assailed and

surrounded, but defended himself so vigorously that many were

wounded. The seven brothers now ran towards him armed, in order

to kill him. He begged them to stand aside; but they would not,

and fell upon him. They fought for some time, but he killed six,

one after the other, and wounded the seventh. Then the father cried

out, “Open the gate!” and it was opened, and he escaped without

a single wound. No one ever knew who he was. The young girl was

thus the cause of the death of her brothers and the desolation of

her family. Similar adventures happen often, and the women always

refuse to betray their lovers. Great ugliness, or ill-health,

can alone preserve a daughter to her family.

Sultan Abd-er-Rahman endeavoured to repress these abuses, but without

success. He established a police of eunuchs to prevent conversations

between men and women in the market-place, but they were deceived

in a thousand ways. If a man, for example, wanted to point out to

a young girl, whom he found to his taste, where she might meet him,

he would cry out,—

“Oh, ho! my lass, what’s this? Thy ugly head is like the ugly

top of that ugly hut.”

“What ugly hut?” would the cunning girl say, in a tone of sham

anger. “Where is that ugly hut which is like my head?”

“There.”

So he pointed it out, and in the evening she was sure to come and

meet him.

Abd-er-Rahman endeavoured, also, to put a stop to wine-drinking,

but with equal want of success. He even went so far as to smell the

mouths of his courtiers when they came to see him; but they soon

found out that, by chewing the leaves of a certain plant, named

shalaub, they could entirely take away the odour. The Forians are

naturally drunkards, and religion has no power to keep them sober.

When a poor man is about to marry, and nobody of his family will

give him enough to supply his bridal expenses, he goes out to the

fields, where the herds and flocks of his relations are feeding,

and slaughters as many as he wants. If the owner endeavours to repel

him, he is sure to be beaten, and, perhaps, killed; but, generally,

he cites the man before the Khadi, who condemns him to pay for what

he has taken by instalments.

On the occasion of a circumcision, the very young boys of a village

are sent out into the neighbouring districts to kill all the fowls

they can come near. No one attempts to interfere with them, for the

law does not allow punishments to be applied at so early an age. A

similar custom to the one here alluded to is practised in the case of

young girls; and a very extraordinary method is taken among the poor

to forestall the dangers of familiarity. During all these painful

ceremonies, the girls are expected to suffer without complaint.

Very considerable dowries are given at a marriage, or rather a high

price is paid for a wife. If the girl be pretty, her parents, even

though poor, sometimes require twenty cows, and a male and female

slave; but the father and mother keep all this for themselves. For

this reason the Forians prefer daughters to sons. Daughters fill

the stables, say they, but sons empty them.

Once married, a girl remains for one or two years in her father’s

house, along with her husband, who at last has great difficulty

in taking her away. During this time all domestic expenses are

defrayed by the wife’s father; and whatever the husband brings is

considered as a present. When a youth has been betrothed to a girl,

however intimate he may have been with her parents before, he ceases

to see them until the ceremony has taken place, and even avoids them

in the street. They, on their part, hide their faces, if they happen

to meet him unexpectedly. He goes to see his betrothed in her own

hut, and sends his compliments to her parents. After the ceremony

he goes and kisses his father-in-law and his mother-in-law on the

head, and becomes one of the family. From this time forward both

wife and husband consider that they have two fathers and two mothers.

CHAPTER VIII.

Origin of Marriage — Apologue — Dowries — Ceremonies — Dances

— Songs — Formalities — Festivals — Domestic Etiquette —

Zikrs — Jealousy — Eunuchs — A Miracle — Impious Ab-Sheikh

— The Sultan’s Wives — A faithful Woman wanted — Arab

Fidelity — The Queen Mother — An Adventure — Beautiful Women

— Qualities of Black Women.

But I must enter into further details on this subject of

marriage. When Adam woke from the light sleep during which Eve was

taken out of his side, and beheld this new creature, richly adorned

with grace and beauty, his heart was moved, and he admired.

“Who art thou, dear creature?” said he.

“I am Eve. God has just created me for thee, according to the

dictates of his supreme will.”

“Come, then, to me.”

“No! It is thou who shouldst come to me.”

Then Adam advanced towards her, and this was the origin of the

custom, that the man should seek the woman. When he had sat down by

her side, and touched her with his hands, emotion thrilled through

his frame, and he became bewildered; but Eve said: “Stay, Adam:

Eve is only legitimately given to thee as a wife, on condition of

a dowry, and a common consent expressed.” Then God, in His Old

Language, pronounced a formula of marriage, and said:—“There is

nothing sublime but my grandeur; nothing imposing but my majesty;

and all creatures revere and adore me. I take you to witness—you,

my angels, and you, the inhabitants of my heaven—that I unite

in marriage this marvel of my creation, Eve, to this first man,

my image upon the earth; but on condition of a dowry—and this

dowry shall be, that he pronounce these words: ‘God is great;

there is no god but God.’” Thus were established and consecrated

the form and conditions of marriage for the posterity of Adam.

Every nation, however, has since modified the original custom,

and the Forians also have their special forms. Among them the

children—boys and girls—are generally mixed together. From a

very early age they are employed in watching the herds, and are

thus in constant communication. Many of them begin their intimacy

at that time, and become linked in an affection which time cannot

break. Love follows, and then the cares of love and jealousy; and

at last the lover, egotistical in his passions, wishes to keep all

the men away from his mistress. So he demands her in marriage, and

the contract of union is drawn up in presence of witnesses, and the

price of the bride, or the dowry, as it is called, is discussed. For

some time afterwards the ceremony is deferred; but at length the day

is fixed, and preparations are made for the nuptial feast. Animals

are slaughtered, drinks are prepared, and invitations are sent out.

Many music-women are hired to enliven the festival. Each of them

carries under her left arm three tambourines, on which she plays,

greeting every new troop of guests with a song in their praise. For

example,—“You, who brandish the shafts of your spears, may death

be slow to overtake you!—May the eye which looks enviously on you

become blind!—you, who brandish the steel of your lances,” &c.

I was once at a marriage festival where the women greeted me with

these verses,—“The Shereef comes from the mosque with a book

in one hand, and a sabre in the other; he bears away the Birguids

into slavery!”

Those who give the festival meet the guests as they arrive, and sit

them down in groups. Food is immediately brought them according

to their dignity. Some, for example, are given boiled meats and

roast meats; others, cakes, and the red wine called Bulbul—The

Mother of the Nightingale. When all have eaten, they remain

sitting in the shade until the heat of the day has diminished,

and the shadows are beginning to lengthen. Then the young girls,

in their richest costume, leave the company of the women; and

the youth also, dressed out in their best, run to meet them, and

they prepare to dance. The girls range themselves in long lines,

in front of which lines of equal length are formed by the youths;

and the women, to the measured sound of the tambourines, fill the

air with their songs. At this signal, all the lines of young girls

begin to move and to advance with a slow, deliberate step, shrugging

their shoulders in various ways, and crouching down with strange

contortions and inflections of their bodies. Thus they reach by

degrees the line of youths, which remains motionless opposite, until

each comes face to face with her partner, when she begins to shake

her head rapidly, and fan and brush his cheeks with her tresses,

which have been carefully perfumed beforehand. Then the youths,

excited by these blandishments, brandish their lances, and raise

them horizontally over the heads of the girls, who begin to retire,

still dancing, and are pursued by their partners until they reach

the place whence they started. Here the young girls pass between the

young men and go dancing back alone. If there happens to be among

the spectators any young man whom a young girl wishes to lure into

the dance, she singles him out, and goes gently dancing towards him,

and waves her hair in his face. Upon this he shouts with joy, and

brandishes his lance and follows her. This attention on her part

imposes on him the necessity of giving her a banquet.

When the two lines have thus changed places, they begin to move at

the same time, and meet in the middle, where the girls cast the

whole of their hair upon the breast of their partners, who begin

to _rakrak_, that is to say, to utter peculiar cries of joy. The

whole company is now half-intoxicated, but the dance continues

until night-time, when the various groups separate and go to supper.

Besides this dance, which is called Delloukah, the Forians have

the Gyl, the Lengui, the Chekenderi, the Bendalah, and the Tonzy,

which is the dance of the slaves; but the dance peculiarly of

Forian origin, and which is special chiefly to the inhabitants

of the Marrah mountains, is the Tendina. Some of these dances are

peculiar to certain classes. The higher ranks dance the Delloukah;

the middle classes, the Gyl; and the inferior classes, the Lengui. In

the latter, the dancers utter peculiar cries, or rather grunts,

which resemble those emitted by workmen when chopping wood. In the

Chekenderi, a young man takes the waist of a young girl, who stands

before him with her back turned, in his hands. A young girl behind

him places her hands upon his hips; she is followed by a young man,

and thus a circle is formed. The dancers, leaning slightly forward,

move with very little steps; the girls gently shaking their anklets

in measure. This tranquil dance is accompanied by the songs of women

who are sitting by. The Bendalah is a dance, or rather a game,

peculiar to the slaves, in which they tie a string of large nuts

to their right foot, and kick at each other. The Tonzy resembles

the Chekenderi; and the Tendina is an exaggerated form of the latter.

Each kind of dance is accompanied by special songs. For example, in

the Gyl, the following is used:—“You banei, hei you banein! The

night is passing, oh, my Moutgal; my head is turning; the night is

going, oh, my Moutgal! yes, my head is turning!” The introductory

words have no meaning, and form an arbitrary chorus. One of the

singers sings the first and second lines, and then the others join

in with, “Ana rasy indur,”—my head is turning. They go on to

say: “The night is passing. Darfur (that is, the world, for the

world to them is a great Darfur) is full of sorrows. Come and rest

thy head upon my bosom.” The complete meaning of another song is

as follows:—“Oh thou, whom I love, thou bendest over me like

a flexible branch, and passion draws us away and makes us breathe

forth sighs! Thou lovest me, thou preferrest me to the daughters of

thy hamlet, and thereby thou shalt excite their jealousy against me,

and draw their vengeance upon me, for they will believe that thou

hast humbled them in my eyes! Oh thou, whose love recalls the perfume

of the sandal-wood, thou hast arisen like the odoriferous branches

of that tree, and thou leanest over our dwellings, to shade them

for ever; and happiness will always remain beneath thy branches!”

After the evening repast, the bride is promenaded, to the sound of

the Daloukah, all round the village, and then led to the nuptial

hut. Three or four hours after night-fall, the young men collect

together and take with them the bridegroom, and, with songs and

rakrakhas, conduct him to the hut. They remain without, whilst

the bride with her companions remains within. Then the bridegroom

nominates one of his friends as Vizier of the wedding, of which he

himself is the Sultan; whilst the bride within chooses a she-vizier,

under the title of Meirem. The latter is then entreated by the

young men to come out and speak to them, but she refuses for an

hour or two, and then issues forth, when the Vizier approaches her

and presents his compliments, and, in an amiable and polite manner,

begs her to allow the bride to present herself.

“Who are you?” then says the Meirem, “Whence do you come,

and of what bride do you speak?”

“We are strangers,” answers the Vizier; “we arrive from a

distant country, and will be delighted if the Queen would honour

us and cheer us with her presence.”

“The Queen is engaged,” then says the Meirem, “and cannot

appear; she has begged me to entertain all strangers and travellers

who may present themselves. What are your wishes?”

“We all know,” says the Vizier, “that thou art full of

graciousness and bounty, that thou art a perfect woman; but we have

a word or two to say to the Queen, and can say them to no other

than her.”

“Very good,” responds the Meirem; “but what will you give

to the Queen, and what will you give to me, if she presents

herself? For it is her custom to show herself only to those who

give her a present.”

“All that we possess, and even our life, we will give, if she

desires.”

This dialogue continues for some time, whilst the bride, concealed

behind a curtain, is listening, and the bridegroom also remains

silent. At length the Meirem consents to exhibit the Queen, and

raises the curtain, and she steps forth, upon which the Vizier

exclaims,—The Queen is for the King, but for us what remains?”

Then the Meirem calls forth the companions of the bride, and says,—

“My friends, I beg that you will treat these guests of our Queen,

this night, in a proper manner.” “Willingly,” they reply. Upon

which the Meirem, who knows who is engaged to whom, leads them forth

one by one and presents them to their lovers. Several couples, thus

brought together, pass the night conversing in the nuptial hut,

and the others go and sleep in the house of some friend.

Next day, the bride and her bridemaids take a bath and perfume

themselves, and the whole wedding party prepares for a new festival;

and sometimes the rejoicings last for seven days, in the evenings of

which there are always dancing and other amusements. If provisions

fail, the men of the party spread through the neighbourhood, and

kill what they want in the first flocks and herds they find. For

this reason all the farmers, as soon as they hear that a wedding

is to take place, drive away their beasts to a distance.

It must be observed that the marriage is seldom considered as

completely celebrated until the seventh day, and never until

after the third. A husband always shuns the insulting epithet of

the impatient man. Each day of temperance is dedicated to some

particular person: the first to the father of the bride, the second

to the mother, and so on.

It is a strange custom in Darfur, that the wife, under no pretence

whatever, is allowed to eat in the presence of her husband, or of

any other man. If her husband happen to enter whilst she is eating,

she instantly runs away, under penalty of universal contempt. I once

enumerated to some Forians the various liberties that a husband can

take with his wife, and asked why she should not also eat before

him. “What you mention,” said they, “are very rational and

proper acts, but for a woman to eat in the presence of a husband,

to open her mouth and introduce food therein—ah, nothing can be

more shameful!”

As I have said, the wife remains in her father’s house until she

has borne children; and if her husband propose to take her away,

she may ground a demand of divorce thereon. In the early time of

her marriage the wife never speaks of her husband by his name,

but only as _he_; and if she be asked whom she means, she replies,

_him_. When she has had a child she uses the expression,—The father

of such a one. The husband has no family expenses until after a year

of marriage, and at every repast all the best food is first offered

to him. During the night also, as long as he sleeps in the house of

his wife’s family, they bring him, in the course of the night,

two or three supplemental meals; the first of which is called the

undress meal; the second, the Tarna-jisi; and the third, the meal of

dawn. These meals are served up to the husband by the bride herself.

At the festival of the circumcision there are also great

rejoicings. The operation is performed by a barber, and if the

patient support it courageously the father promises him a heifer,

a bull, or a slave, and all those who are present make him some

gift. It is on this occasion that the boys scour the country in

search of fowls.

I shall now describe what is called a Zikr in Darfur, remarking, by

the way, that, in common Forian life, the women are the life and soul

of every thing that takes place, and that, therefore, they also take

a direct part in this religious ceremony. The Darfur Zikr is of two

kinds, one performed by the Arabs, and the other by the Forians. The

former contains a variety of movements and change, and was instituted

by a celebrated Sheikh. A woman places herself near the circle of

the faithful, and sings a few verses, whilst the other women simply

look on, and examine who is most distinguished by his enthusiasm.[18]

When the Zikr is in full swing, the woman becomes silent, and one of

the men takes up the song. On one occasion, I heard a contest between

two circles of Zikrs, in which the performers sung satirical verses

one against the other. At another time, a woman ran into the circle,

and began to chant:—“I will pour out for you a jar of meriseh. I

am without a husband, and I live at the other end of the village. Is

there one of you who is ready for love?” The people of the Zikr

were then chanting,—“Allah hai! Allah hai!”—God is living,

God is living! but one of them substituted the words “Ana zany;

ana zany!”—I am your man; and so the contract was made.

The people of Forian origin stand in two rows or in a circle, each

one with a young girl behind him, and the women standing around chant

in a monotonous tone these words:—“The green tree is created for

the shadow of men of science and religion. Is it indeed true that

we shall go to paradise? Yes, it is indeed true that we shall go

to paradise:” and they also add these words:—“Oh Gabriel! oh

Michael! every deed of goodness is a key of paradise.”

Women in all countries have excited the jealousy of men. There

have been known those who have been jealous not only of their

nearest relations, but of the night, of the day, of the eyes of

the Narcissus, even of themselves. The poets have accumulated

these exaggerations. One has said, “Oh, Narcissus, turn away thy

flower; do not look at me, for I am ashamed to kiss her I love

before thee! What! shall my cheeks grow pale in sleep, and thou

still gaze?” Another has said:—“My eyes, myself, thyself, the

place where thou livest, the hours that brush by thee, everything

excites my jealousy. Grant me nothing, for, as I am jealous of thee

against thyself, how should I not be jealous of myself?” And again,

another:—“I am jealous of everything, even of my own thoughts,

and one hand is jealous of the other.”

It is the passion thus described that has given rise to the custom

of employing eunuchs. The Sultan of Darfur has more than a thousand

of them, and all the great people possess several. All these eunuchs

come from Dar-roha, although from time to time one is made in the

country as a punishment.

The eunuchs are celebrated for their cruelty. One day an Ab-Sheikh

led out his soldiers on a hot summer’s day, and forced them to

remain in the sun whilst he was protected by a parasol, until they

all suffered dreadfully, and some even died upon the spot. He did

this for his amusement, and exclaimed from time to time:—“This is

the day! this is the day!—the day of misfortune and desolation!”

There were more than twenty thousand men present, but none dared

to resist, until at length a pious Sheikh, named Hassan-el-Kau,

suddenly exclaimed, three times,—“Silence, impious man!” Upon

this Our-dikka, which was the name of the eunuch, was seized with

affright and fled, and the pious Hassan, lifting up his hands to

heaven, prayed, and said, “My God, have pity on thy servants!”

Presently a vast mass of clouds collected over head, and the rain

fell in torrents, and the army was refreshed and dispersed. This

day is remembered as a memorable day.

That which had provoked the pious indignation of the Sheikh Hassan

was, that the eunuch had assimilated himself to God, by judging

the crowd in the words which will be used at the last day of fiery

resurrection. Our-dikka was a very ignorant man, and had never

attempted to learn to read until appointed to his high dignity. The

Sultan ordered him to take lessons, and he studied the alphabet

for a few days. At last he asked for a Koran, and after having

looked over it for some time, managed to make out the letter _waw_

standing by itself.

“Is not that a _waw_?” said he.

“Certainly,” replied his master.

“Now I know the Koran,” exclaimed the eunuch, and he shut up

the book and ordered oxen and sheep to be slaughtered, and caused

the tambourines to beat, and gave a great festival on the occasion.

In spite of the number of eunuchs and their vigilance, the Sultan is

often deceived by his slaves, who send out old women into the city

to bring in beardless boys dressed in female garments. This stratagem

is the more easy, because it is the custom for all the young negroes

to wear their hair long like women. In this way access to the harem

is easy; and if God protect the youth he escapes afterwards, if not,

he is massacred without mercy. In general no accident happens; but

sometimes another woman betrays the secret, or else the Sultan in

a jealous mood makes a general search through his huts.

At other times the women themselves go out in disguise, and the

eunuchs often allow them to pass, pretending not to recognise

them, because they fear their vengeance. The fact is, the women of

Soudan are incapable of restraining their passions; and, indeed,

it is not to be wondered at, that the Sultan and the wealthy men,

with their large harems, should be often deceived, especially as

there are a great number of persons who, from want of means, are

obliged to lead a life of celibacy. I have already explained, too,

how the education of the Forian women prepares them for debauchery.

It is the belief among the Forians, that if the city takes fire,

the only means of arresting the progress of the flames is to bring

near them a woman, no longer young, who has never been guilty of

intrigue. If she be pure, by merely waving a mantle, she puts a

stop to the destruction. Success has sometimes rewarded a virtuous

woman. When I was in Darfur, a violent conflagration burst forth. The

Sultan and all his court came and endeavoured to stop it, but in

vain. Then a crier was sent about the city. He passed through every

street, exclaiming, “Is there any faithful woman here? Is there

a single faithful woman to be found?” But no one came forward,

and we must believe that none existed.

I must, however, mention, that conjugal virtues are far from being

so uncommon amongst the women of the wandering Arabs in Darfur and

its neighbourhood. These women, being more intelligent, are more

religious and more faithful than the Forians. Among them there is

far more propriety. An Arab woman, for example, who has a son in

an honourable position, will abstain from any love intrigue out of

respect for his name; but the Forian women not so. An intimate friend

of mine, whose name I will not mention, has related to me that the

mother of the Sultan Mohammed Fadhl, who was called Ambous,[19]

once married her brother to a slave-girl of hers. The wedding was

celebrated with great pomp, and an enormous crowd collected, of

which my friend was one. “I was standing,” he said, “looking

on, when the mother of the Sultan appeared, surrounded by a troop

of girls, elegant as gazelles. She was then thirty-five years old,

and her countenance was the most hideous possible to conceive. I

wondered why God had chosen so frightful a woman to be the mother of

a prince. Having led her brother to the nuptial hut, she came forth

jingling her anklets and her strings of beads, and, in the dark,

I felt a cloud of perfume surrounding me. She came towards me in

the midst of her slaves, and, seizing my hand, led me away. I dared

not resist, for fear of attracting attention. After proceeding a

little way, she whispered that she was tired—she who, before

she had been the mother of a Sultan, had been a hewer of wood

and a drawer of water, complained of a walk of a hundred yards! I

answered politely, and she led me into the hut and made me sit down,

and, after some coquetry, seeing that I would not understand, said

that she had a headache, and wanted me to repeat some verses of the

Koran. I did so, placing my hand upon her forehead, and the odour

of her perfumes troubled me; but suddenly I began to think of the

danger, and trembled. So the queen, with whom I had been left alone,

called out for one of her women, named Dera-el-Gader, who brought

me a dish, which I tasted, and found so good, that I ate heartily;

but suddenly we heard a great noise, and the servant came running,

saying,—‘The Sultan! the Sultan!’ Upon this the women took

me and shoved me out, and I was enabled to hide, although some one

did cry out that a man was stealing away.” Such was the recital

of my friend, which proved to me that eunuchs are not sufficient

to prevent women from having lovers if they wish to do so.

I shall here add, that each tribe and nation of Soudan has women

celebrated for some qualities of beauty. The most beautiful women,

however, are those of Afnan; after them come the women of Bagirmeh,

of Bornou, and of Sennaar; then come those of Wadaï; and after

them those of Darfur. The ugliest, without exception, are those

of Touban and Katakou. God has diversified his creatures in a

marvellous manner; and to produce the effect of variety, little

is required. Everything that is brown is not musk; everything

that is red is not a ruby; and everything that shines is not

a diamond; everything that is black is not charcoal; everything

that is vermilion is not flesh; and everything that is white is not

chalk. The coloured nations, whether they be black or bronzed, have

beauties which the white people do not possess. It may be said that

light and darkness immeasurably differ; but, verily, some admire the

black colour, as this verse proves:—“Her dark complexion is full

of charm and grace. Look at it well, and you will no longer admire

the white and the rose-coloured. Yes! on account of my sweetheart,

I love everything that is black. I love all Soudan on her account;

I love even black dogs.” I also, for a time, was a passionate

admirer of negresses, and I wrote some verses to justify my taste,

and endeavoured to prove that the whole beauty of a countenance is

derived from the black parts of it—as the eyes, the eye-brows, and

the moles. But afterwards I changed my opinion, and wrote against

the poet Safty, who had argued that a black spot on a white face

increased its beauty, whilst a white spot on a black face was a

deformity. I showed, among other things, that the truth is pure

and white. To this Safty replied, that white was the colour of old

men’s beards, and also of shrouds—two things which frighten

love away. Perhaps there has been much exaggeration put forth on

both sides.

When a Forian takes an Arab wife, or _vice versâ_, it is noticed

that the offspring is generally weak and short-lived.[20] Each people

has a particular temperament, and, I am inclined to think that,

as a rule, mixture of races deteriorates them. In Darfur and Wadaï

it has been found necessary to have recourse to various means for

preserving the lives of children. It is customary to bleed them on

the fortieth day after birth, by scarifying their bellies on both

sides. This operation is repeated at the age of three months. If it

be neglected, the children generally die of fever and other diseases.

CHAPTER IX.

Mixed Marriages — A Malady in Darfur — Story of the Small-pox

— Diseases — Medicine — Birth — Education — Climate —

Cause of Depopulation — Food — Weykeh — Food of Poor —

Hunting — Classes of Hunters — Bedawin Arabs — Speculation in

Ostrich Feathers — Milk — Gold — Money — Salt — Apology

for Money — Curious Money.

There is a peculiar malady in Darfur, called Abou-lessan, or

father of the tongue, which consists in the appearance of an

excrescence at the root of the tongue, which it is necessary to

excise.[21] Dysentery is sometimes cured by cauterisation round

the navel. When convulsions are brought on by the malice of demons,

who find a child left alone for a moment, it is customary, in Egypt

and Tunis, for an exorciser to be called in to make invocations,

and sometimes the patient is relieved, and sometimes not. But, in

Soudan, this disease is treated by actual cautery on the forehead,

and cures often result. The small-pox is common in Soudan. As soon

as a person is attacked by it he is immediately removed to a hut

built in a lonely place—a kind of hospital, in fact, where there

are servants who have already had the disease. The Bedawin Arabs

are very frightened at this disease. A man of Birguid, named Othman,

once related to me that, having had the disease, and having escaped

danger, though his skin was still marked, he used to go out with

his face covered with the cloth of his turban to protect him from

the flies. One day, being thus veiled, a party of Arabs approached,

and sent forward a man, who walked with a hesitating and uncertain

step. When he was near he cried out,—

“Tell me, I pray thee, if in this village there be any one ill

of the small-pox?”

“God preserve me,” replied Othman, “from exciting in thee a

dangerous security by a false answer!” So he uncovered his face,

and the Arab fell at once to the ground with a great cry.

His companions ran forward and carried him away, and Othman fled,

or otherwise they would have killed him. He afterwards learned

that the unhappy man died in three days. The people of Soudan

have a curious idea on the origin of the small-pox. They pretend

that it is brought by a little animal, imperceptible to the eye,

but which leaves evident traces of its passage on the ground. This

insect fixes on the skin, and thus engenders the disease. I am told

that its track consists of a series of round points, disposed in

a single straight line, so, . . . .; and they say that, whenever

this track is observed in the morning directed towards any house,

the small-pox infallibly appears there.

Syphilis is very common in Darfur, but not so common as in Kordofal,

where people endeavour to communicate it, fancying that they thus

cure themselves; whilst in Darfur people generally shut themselves

up. Elephantiasis is common in these countries. Pleurisy is cured

by a number of scarifications on the side. There are a variety of

other diseases, many of which are fatal; but neither the plague

nor phthisis is known. I may add, that the greater number of

the therapeutic means used are surgical, and that they are often

successful. There are oculists, named shallans, who devote themselves

entirely to performing operations for the cataract, in which they are

very successful. The doctors are generally old men who have studied

carefully the effects of scarification and cautery. The medicaments

they use are marvellously simple, consisting generally of tamarinds,

honey, and cow’s butter. The last-mentioned substance is used

with wonderful success by the Bedawin Arabs to cure gouty pains

in the joints. It must be added, that magic is often resorted to

as a means of cure, and that the patients are treated by writings;

that is to say, papers on which sacred words have been written. The

most successful in this kind of treatment are the Fellatahs.

Women in child-birth are attended on by a number of old women,

who are very expert in their art. A cord is swung from the roof

of the hut, and the woman remains upright, holding on until safely

delivered. Eight days after the birth of the child a feast is given,

a sheep killed, and the name bestowed. When the child is two or

three months old, it is carried about on its mother’s back, in

her mantle, even during her hardest work. She continues to carry

it in this manner even after it can walk, and, according to the

general custom in Muslim countries, she gives it suck for about

two years. Unlike the Egyptians, the Forians never marry their

daughters until after the age of puberty. The betrothment, however,

often takes place two or three years before.

Very little instruction is given to children in Darfur. The reading

of the Koran, which is the only primary education, even in Egypt,

is very imperfectly spread. One of the reasons is, that the children

only go to evening-schools, for all day they are occupied in keeping

the flocks and herds. When evening comes on they take their slates

and go to school. Every one of them in his turn brings a fagot of

wood to make a fire with, and the scholars sit round, and by the

light of the flame pursue their studies for an hour or two. The

result is general ignorance. The country produces scarcely any

Ulemas, and those who do exist give but mediocre lectures on civil

and religious law, and on the proofs of the existence and unity

of God. Rational studies, that is to say, those which have for

their object the sciences of human invention—the liberal arts,

the humanities, &c.—are nearly null; a few individuals only

possessing a few simple notions on the Arabic grammar. The study of

the rules of Arab phraseology, that of the delicacies and varieties

of discourse, of tropes, of rhetoric, of logic, and versification,

is entirely neglected, except by a few who have gone to study at

Cairo. Great importance is attached, however, to the science of

demons and magic. Medicine, among the Forians, is a branch of magic,

which is cultivated most especially by the Fullans, or Fellatahs.

With reference to climate, Darfur is not equally salubrious

throughout its whole extent, and in all its provinces. The most

healthy part is the Gouz, or Country of Sand. The Arabs who inhabit

it, and breathe its pure air, are full of force and courage; but it

contains, unfortunately, little water. The most unhealthy country

for strangers is the Saïd; and, indeed, all the great capital towns

are remarkably unfavourable to health. In spite, however, of this

prevalence of disease, the people of Darfur love their country and

cherish their huts. However, it must be observed that, as there are

few epidemic diseases in Darfur, the population is tolerably well

kept up. Many men reach the age of a hundred, or even a hundred

and twenty; and very old people are common, despite of wars, and

domestic disturbances, and private quarrels. If it were not for

these causes, and the murders which are committed in a state of

drunkenness, or from jealousy, the population of Darfur would equal

in number the Yagog and the Magog, and the vastest plains would not

be able to contain it. Some may object that the women, not being

exposed to the same chances of death, ought to exist in greater

numbers; but I believe that grief for the loss of their husbands,

children, and relations, and the various privations and fatigues

they are subject to, prevent their excessive increase. However,

there are more old women than old men, even among the very poor. I

have remarked that, in this latter class, the misery is so great,

that the poor of our country would never be able to support it.

Food that is bitter and disgusting to us seems to the Forians

exquisite eating. A little time after my arrival a dish called

weykeh was set before me, and I was invited to eat; but this was

impossible. My father, hearing of this, said to me,—“He who

will not eat weykeh should not come into this country.” However,

for some time, he had prepared for me a few dishes that I liked,

such as rice and milk. When we went to the Fasher to visit the

Sultan, we were lodged by the Fakih Malik. At the first supper

a bitter mess was placed before me. I asked what it was, and was

answered,—“Weykeh, cooked with heglig.” I found it impossible

to touch it. Another dish was brought in, and with it came an

abominable stink. “What is that rotten stuff?” cried I. I was

told it was weykeh dandary, which was considered a great delicacy;

but I could not put a single morsel in my mouth, and so Malik was

obliged to send me some fresh milk sweetened with honey. In the

evening he asked me why I did not eat any of his dishes.

“The first,” said I, “was too bitter; and the second was

too stinking.”

“My friend,” replied he, “these kinds of dishes are necessary

for the preservation of health in our country, and whoever does

not eat them is in danger of disease.”

The dandary is prepared with the residue of bones of sheep and

oxen, which are thrown into a great vase full of water, and left

for several days, until they begin to smell strong.[22] Then they

are pounded in a mortar, and reduced to a sort of paste, of which

balls are made as big as oranges. To prepare a weykeh, one of these

balls is dissolved in water, strained and mixed with onions fried

in butter, with pepper, salt, and other condiments.

The common food of the poor is millet, not winnowed. Their cookery

is detestable; they use a salt extracted from wood-ashes. People a

little better off live, for the most part, on milk and butter. They

eat meat only from time to time, when an animal is killed, and sold

in portions for so many measures of millet. The young men often go

out hunting, and kill rabbits, hares, the gazelle, the wild ox, the

fox, and the teytel. The latter animal has the form and appearance

of a tame ox, but is not larger than a middle-sized calf. It has

a couple of horns, one or two spans in length, nearly straight,

and bent sometimes forward, sometimes backward. This animal is

remarkably stupid, and only flies if it sees a great crowd of

people; if one or two people draw nigh, it looks with a tranquil

eye and does not move. If the Forians meet a teytel standing still

in a plain, they generally cry, “Ya teytel, ya kafer!”—“O

teytel, O infidel!” The beast looks at them with indifference,

unless they endeavour to approach quite near. The teytel seems to

be a variety of the wild ox, but is smaller; its colour is fallow.

Many people in Darfur gain their living by hunting. They are

divided into two classes, and are generally workers in iron. They

rarely appear in the villages, and form a caste apart, called

Darmoudy. They are people without faith and without law, and it

is dangerous to meet them in bye-places. The other Forians never

seek to ally themselves to them by marriage. The first class hunts

quadrupeds, as the gazelle, the wild ox, the elephant, the buffalo,

the hyæna, the lion, the rhinoceros, &c. They dig pits, in which

they place stakes, and cover them with slight roofings of branches

and earth. When they catch an elephant, they take the ivory and the

skin; the latter is used to make bucklers and kurbashes. Sometimes

the Darmoudies use fixed lassoes to catch their prey; at other

times lances and javelins.

The second class of hunters devotes itself entirely to

bird-catching. They seek principally the hoberah, a kind of bustard,

which they catch with a worm and a line, like a fish. Small birds

are taken by nets, to which they are attracted by millet-seeds. If

a Darmoudy catches paroquets, or parrots, he pulls out the feathers

of their wings and takes them home alive in a basket to sell.

There are some Darmoudies who go into the mountains to hunt various

kinds of monkeys. The gun is never used either on this or on any

other occasion. Some rich people keep a slave always employed in

hunting; and I once tried to procure one who was clever, but did

not succeed. The giraffe and the ostrich are hunted principally by

the Bedawin Arabs, who run them down on horseback.

The Bedawin Arabs of Darfur and Wadaï are abundantly supplied with

everything necessary to support life. They derive from Darfur or

Wadaï only a little millet, some maize, and articles of costume. In

exchange for these they sell their surplus of butter, honey,

cattle, skins of wild or domestic animals, leather sacks, whips,

or cords. Most of them are wealthy in butter and in honey. The

latter is found in certain trees where the wild bees make their

hives. The chase supplies the Arabs with many advantages. Ostrich

feathers and rhinoceros’ horns are so plentiful with them as to be

of no value. When I was in Wadaï, a Fezzan merchant came there to

buy ostrich feathers, and applied to the Shereef, who had succeeded

my father as Vizier, for a letter of introduction to the Sheikh,

Shaw-shaw, chief of the tribe of Mahami, in order to induce him to

hunt the ostrich for a moderate price. The merchant had brought

fifty Frank ryals, or dollars. The Shereef wrote the letter for

the Fezzanee, who departed for the district where the tribe was

settled. On his return, he related to me his commercial expedition

in these words:—“When I arrived, I was conducted to the tent

of the Sheikh, Shaw-shaw, who received me with bounty and kindness,

and gave me a tent of camels’ hair, well furnished. He assigned to

me a male and female servant, who attended me in all things. I had

brought him a present, which he accepted with joy, giving me another

in exchange, and I handed over to him my fifty ryals. He called

together a certain number of his Arabs, and said to them,—‘This

man is my guest; he has come and confided himself to me, and wants

ostrich feathers. Let those who wish to gain some of these dollars

go forth to-morrow at dawn of day. Each zhalym-skin shall be paid

half a dollar, and each rabdah-skin a quarter of a dollar.’[23]

“Next day, accordingly, the Arabs went out and brought me

twenty zhalym-skins. I remained three weeks, and completed a

hundred. Shaw-shaw put them on his camels, and carried them for

me to Warah, the capital of Wadaï. He gave me, also, a plentiful

supply of provisions; as melted ostrich grease, honey, &c. At Warah

I sold nearly ninety zhalym-skins for three dollars each, so that,

without any fatigue, I gained a pretty profit.”

Milk is so plentiful in Arab encampments that they can never use the

whole, in spite of the quantity of butter they make, and are obliged

to throw away a large portion. In the districts of the Rezeigat,

the Red Masirieh, and others, the pools and ponds are all white

with milk.

Very few of the natives of Soudan are able to distinguish gold

from copper, or tin from lead. Gold-dust is sometimes used,

however, as a medium of exchange. In Darfur there are absolutely no

precious metals but such as are imported from abroad, and even the

ornaments of women are principally composed of glass beads. It is

not astonishing, therefore, that the Forians remained long without

knowing the use of silver or gold coins. When commerce, however,

became extended, they were obliged to invent some kind of money,

and they first used rings of pewter, which they employed for the

purchase of daily necessities. For things of a greater price,

a long piece of stuff, about five yards long, and half a yard

wide, is used. Slaves have also a fixed monetary value, according

to their height. For example, a horse may be worth three or four

sedasy, or slave, who, from the heel to the lower lobe of the ear,

measures six spans. In Darfur are known neither the mahboub nor the

piastre, nor any kind of coin used in civilised countries, except

the abou-medfah, or pillar-dollar. In the chief towns glass beads

are used as money; and in the parts about Guerly they use the falgo,

or cake of salt, prepared in a particular manner. There are three

kinds of salt in Darfur,—the zaghawy, which is procured from

the lakes of the same name; the falgo, which is of a grey colour,

opaque, and rather agreeable to the taste; and the mydaoub, which

is of a blood-red colour, and by far the best. At Krousa tobacco

is used as money, and is called taba. It is pounded into a paste,

and made up into hollow cones, about the size of a pear. By the way,

I have read a piece of verses composed by one of the descendants of

the Kaliph Abou-Bekr, the object of which is to prove that smoking

is not a sin. These verses date from about the middle of the ninth

century of the Hegira. I shall extract one or two verses:—

“The all-powerful God has produced from the soil of our country

a plant, the true name of which is tabgha.

“If any one in his ignorance maintains that this plant is

forbidden, say to him, ‘How do you prove it? By what verse of

the Koran?’

“This plant does not inebriate, and this is why God has not

condemned it. Whence hast thou taken thy word of condemnation?

“If thou inspirest the smoke of the tabgha, it rejoices and solaces

thee; but never forget to say before the first puff,—B’ism Illah,

in the name of God.

“And when thou hast finished, give praise to the single God,

and this will bring upon thee abundant blessings.”

In some places little bundles of cotton-twist are used as money, and

at others strings of onions. At one market the iron head of a kind

of hoe is employed; and in the Gouz the same purpose is served by

handfuls of millet. In many places the measure of value is an ox; and

they say, for example, “this horse is worth ten or twenty oxen.”

CHAPTER X.

Productions of Darfur — Fruit — Trees — The Thlyleg —

Nebks — The Ochan — Horse-stealers — Medicinal Plants —

Seasons — Wind and Rain — Wonderful Plants — Herbalists —

The Narrah — Its Magical Properties — Strange Roots — Robbers

— Buried Sacred Books — Sorcerers — A wonderful Foulan —

The Temourkehs — Strange Stories — A Slave-hunt in Dar-Fertyt

— Sand Diviners — Prophecies that came to pass.

The Forians, in their autumn season, which corresponds to our

summer, take advantage of the rain to sow the ground. It is

probably on account of these rains, which are very heavy, that they

generally sow neither wheat nor barley, nor beans nor lentils,

nor chick-peas. In Darfur we found neither apricots nor peaches,

nor apples, nor pomegranates, nor olives, nor prunes, nor pears, nor

the sweet-lemon, nor oranges, nor almonds, nor nuts, nor pistachios,

nor walnuts, nor the fruit of the service-tree. The principal thing

cultivated is the millet; but they also cultivate different kinds

of maize. I have already mentioned, that in some districts wheat

is sown. In the pools, and in places where water stands for some

time, rice grows without any cultivation, and the people gather it

in in the spring. Sessame is sown, but the grain is eaten, and no

oil is made. Honey is common in Darfur, but the wax is made no use

of. Houses are lighted by a kind of wood. Charcoal is never made.

Darfur produces some small water-melons, which are eaten either

fresh, as in Egypt, or dried and steeped in water, so as to make

a kind of sherbet. Onions, garlic, pepper, and various kinds of

cucumbers are sown, and several species of vegetables are found

in some provinces. The river Kou flows through a great valley,

which it inundates in autumn, after which, when the waters retire,

an immense quantity of bamieh springs up spontaneously. There is

a kind of bean peculiar to Darfur.

The only tree in this country which resembles those of Egypt is the

date-palm, which is found in some districts. One of the most useful

trees in the country is the sheglyg, more properly the thlyleg.[24]

There are two varieties, called the yellow and the red, on account

of the colour of the fruit, which is about the size of a large

date. The tree, by its stature and appearance, reminds one of the

Egyptian sycamore. The leaves are slightly oval, and the fruit

has a bitter-sweet taste, and a peculiar odour. It is prepared

in a great variety of manners. Every part of the tree is put to

some use. The young sprouts of the leaves are used as a seasoning;

they are also applied to wounds, in a paste prepared by chewing,

and form an effectual cure. The green fruit, pounded in a mortar,

is used as soap, and answers the purpose admirably; as, indeed, do

the roots. The wood of the tree is burned in torches to light the

houses, and produces no smoke. From it also are prepared the slates

on which the children learn to write and read. When burnt, the ashes

produce a slightly bitter salt, which is used for seasoning. In fine,

this tree answers even more purposes of utility than the palm.

There are two kinds of nebk in Darfur, the fruit of which is used

both as food and medicinally. The tebeldy is a great tree with

a hollow trunk, in which the rain collects and forms reservoirs,

to which the wandering Arabs repair to quench their thirst. Its

fruit is used to cure diarrhœa. The cocoa-nut is found towards

the north. The geddeim produces a small fruit, to which I know of

no other equal. There are many other trees of useful properties

growing wild about the country. Two kinds of cotton are cultivated.

The ochan is a shrub, the different parts of which are applied to

different purposes. It produces, among other things, a kind of down,

which is twisted into thread, and used to repair the water-skins,

to make cords, and to stop leaks in leather sacks. The juice,

when applied to the skin of an animal, makes the hair fall

off. Horse-stealers use it to disguise the animals which they

steal. The tree which produces gum-arabic is found in sandy

places. The vast branches of the haraz afford shadow to a hundred

men. There are many trees which do not produce fruit, but are used

only for timber. However, I will not endeavour to give a complete

account of the vegetable productions of Darfur, because when I was

there I was still young, and ignorant of botany.

The Fertyts, who inhabit the vast country south of Darfur, and who

are idolaters, possess a tree called the gana, which supplies a

very pretty wood, used for making lance-handles.

Among the remarkable plants is the kyly, which produces the fruit

from which is made the ordeal liquor of which I have already

spoken. The leaves of the shalob, when chewed, take away the

taste of wine from the mouth. The dagarah is used as a medicine in

ophthalmia. I once was at the market of Numleh, and, having handled

pepper incautiously, put my hand to my eyes; a severe pain and

great swelling came on, and I was obliged to stop at a village and

go into an old woman’s house, suffering dreadfully. My hostess,

however, sent for some leaves of the dagarah, pounded them in a

mortar, and dropped the juice upon my eyes, and I was cured by one

or two applications.

The greater part of the trees and other vegetables of Darfur have

their fruit ripe towards the end of autumn, which corresponds

to the end of summer in Egypt. The rains begin at the beginning

of their autumn; and I have learned from various points that it

is these rains which assist in swelling the river Nile. In 1841

of the Christian era the great Kadi of Wadaï told me that 1837,

the year of famine in Egypt, was signalised by an extraordinary

drought in his country. The rainy season is ushered in by great

wind-storms, which roll enormous clouds from the east, raising

also vast columns of sand from the plains of the Gouz. The horizon

becomes also of a blood-red colour. Rain always follows, accompanied

by thunder. During the whole of the season prodigious showers fall,

accompanied by violent thunder-claps. When the lightning falls it

commits great destruction. I have seen branches torn away from great

trees, huts burnt down, and a man’s arm broken. The Forians say

that those who carry iron about them are never struck, which is

exactly contrary to the opinion of the Europeans.

During the Darfur summer great winds prevail, which raise enormous

clouds of dust, and vast mirages inundate the plains. It has been

noticed that the showers which fall during the night are much more

gentle than those that fall by day. Rainbows are common; I have

seen five or six at the same time, some rising straight up in the

air. The rains last about sixty days; if less, there is famine. In

Darfur and Wadaï the names of the months are of Arab origin,

without any reference to the denominations used by the Greeks,

the Copts, or the Europeans.

I shall now say something of the marvellous qualities of some plants

of Darfur. I do so with some hesitation, fearing to be accused

of falsehood; but there are some extraordinary things which must

be told. The chief properties of these magic plants are in the

roots. There exist in Darfur master-herbalists, who have scholars

under them. They unite from time to time to go on expeditions,

and climb the mountains, and plunge into the valleys in search of

plants. They are called in Darfur, Magicians, and enjoy a certain

reputation. They are all in rivalry one against another, and in

strong competition. They keep their roots in horns of goats, rams,

or oxen.

These roots are used for different purposes; among others, to compose

what is called the narrah. When I was in Darfur, there was at Jedid

es-Seil a certain man named Bakourloukou, who acquired an astonishing

reputation by the magical power of his narrah. When any one loved

a young girl who was too rebellious to his wishes, he used to go

to Bakourloukou and buy of his narrah, and rub his face and hands

therewith. Afterwards, when he met with her he loved, he passed his

hand over her shoulders, or some other part of the body, and love

at once filled her heart, and she could no longer live without

him. Even if her parents refused their consent to her marriage,

she eloped with her lover. Moreover, if any one had a request to

make to the Sultan, and bought some of this narrah, he was sure

to succeed. Bakourloukou obtained in this way an extraordinary

reputation; and it became a saying among the women, that he could

obtain for any one two girls for five yards of cotton. One day a

person who had some narrah came to see me, and wanted me to buy;

but I refused, saying, “that I was young enough to please women

for myself, and that I was in favour with the Sultan.”

The Forians also possess roots by which they can do evil to their

enemies. There is one which causes death if it be buried in the

earth, in the shade of the head of the intended victim, who is

at once struck with bewilderment and loses all consciousness,

and perishes if a proper antidote be not administered. By similar

means any particular member is paralysed. Others stun people by the

smoke of certain roots, collected in a sleeve, which they shake in

their faces.[25]

The Forians also possess roots, the quality of which is to overcome

people with a singular lethargy. They are principally used by

robbers, who penetrate with them by night into houses, and if they

find the inhabitants awake shake them towards them three times,

upon which God shuts their ears and they understand nothing. The

robber then comes and goes without fear; and sometimes kills a

sheep, skins it, roasts it, and eats some of it, and puts a piece

of the liver into the hands of each of the sleepers, and goes away,

carrying with him what he wants. A little after the people awake

from their trance, and ask one another what kind of man it was they

had seen, and what he can have been doing. Then only they discover,

but too late, the robbery that has been committed.

This employment of the mysterious power of plants is a thing known

to every Forian. I once asked a learned man what he thought of these

matters, and he replied:—“The books sent by God to the prophets,

Adam, Seth, and Abraham, &c., have been buried in the earth, and

God has caused these magical plants to grow above them. The winds

spread their seeds to the four corners of the earth, and experience

has discovered the strange virtues which have been communicated to

them by the Divine Spirit contained in these ancient writings.”

For my part, I see in all these things works of enchantment and

sorcery. The same effects are produced, in fact, by the magical force

of certain figures traced in a certain manner, and by invocations

of the superior and inferior angels. I shall relate some examples.

Persons of good faith and acknowledged veracity have certified to me,

that in the war which took place between the Kaliph, son of Tyrab,

and the Sultan Abd-er-Rahman, some partisans of the former, who were

armed with guns, were so powerfully charmed by sorcerers on the other

side that their weapons produced no effect. On another occasion,

the Fakih Malik bewildered the sons of the Sultan and threw them

into the hands of Kourra and Fadhl, against whom they had revolted.

The persons most celebrated in Darfur for their charms and magical

doings are the Foulans, or Felattahs. One of them, named Tamourrou,

used to perform the most miraculous acts. A person worthy of credit

related to me the following instance: “I went with Tamourrou,”

he said, “from Jedid-kerio to the Fasher; the sun was burning

hot; the magician was mounted on a camel; he took his cloak and

spread it before him, and then folded it up, and, placing it on

his knee, pronounced certain words: afterwards he threw it in the

air, and it unfolded and remained spread over him and me like a

parasol, as if held by invisible hands. Wherever Tamourrou’s

camel moved it followed. This was an extraordinary fact. Well,

we were proceeding on in the shade, when suddenly the rain came

on and fell in torrents. Upon this Tamourrou said to his servant,

who was following him on foot: “Give me a handful of sand;” and

having pronounced certain words, whirled his hand round his head in a

circle, scattering the sand as he did so. The rain-cloud immediately

separated, one part going to the right and the other to the left,

and we continued our route without having a thread wetted.”

It is also related that some people have the power of paralysing

whoever attempts to attack them. But the most extraordinary facts

are those which are related of the Massalits and the Temourkehs,

who have the power of metamorphosing themselves into different

kinds of animals. All the Forians say that the former can change

into hyænas, cats, and dogs, and the latter into lions. Another

extraordinary thing related of the Temourkehs is that, according to

their own account, three days after their death, they resuscitate

and come out of their tombs, and go into other countries to marry

again, and accomplish a second life.

In Darfur, every one acknowledges that the Sultan has under

his orders a number of men having the power of metamorphosing

themselves. They are used as agents and ambassadors. If they are

in danger of being seized, they transform themselves into air

or wind. I once became very intimate with one of these people,

and at length ventured to speak on the subject of his wonderful

power, but he turned aside the conversation, and avoided a direct

answer. Another time I pressed the question closer, upon which

he smiled and said:—“I did not think you were so simple as to

believe all that is said on this subject.” Then he talked of other

things, and soon left me, and from that time forward, whenever he

met me he turned aside, and our acquaintance utterly ceased.

I was once following a Ghazwah, or slave-hunt, directed against

the Fertyts by a king. As he owed me a debt, he took me with him

to pay me from the slaves he was to capture.[26] We advanced far

into Dar-Fertyt, and remained there three months, in a place without

fruits or vegetables. One day the king sent for me, and I found him

surrounded by green onions and long cucumbers, as fresh as if just

plucked from the garden. I asked who had given them to him?

“They arrived from Darfur,” said he.

“Who brought them? and how can their freshness have been

preserved?”

“They have been transported hither in an instant—look at this

letter, and see the date of it.”

I took the letter, and found that it was from one of his friends

in Darfur, and that it was dated the same morning.

“Do not be so surprised,” said the king, “for we have with us

men of Temourkeh, who have the faculty of transforming themselves

as they please, and of traversing the greatest distance in a very

short period of time.”

“I should wish,” said I, “to see some of these people.”

“You shall,” said he; and accordingly, on our return, we passed

through a village of the Temourkehs, and stopped there to pass the

night. In the morning the people came to visit the king, and the

chief said to him,—

“I beg, if you see any lions on your way, not to attack them,

for they are our companions metamorphosed.”

“But,” said the king, “I should like to hear some of them

roar.”

“The thing is easy,” replied the Temourkeh; and he called three

of his men by name, and they came near him, and then went away and

disappeared in the plain. Presently we heard a roar that made us

tremble, and the other animals exhibit their fear.

“That,” said the Temourkeh, “is such a one;” and called him

by his name. Two other roars, each more terrible still, were heard,

and then the sham lions came back in their human shape. They kissed

the hands of the king, who felicitated them, and made them presents

of new garments.

“Well,” said he, afterwards, to me, “you have seen these men;

it was they who brought us the onions and the cucumbers in the

solitudes of Dar-Fertyt.”

I must not omit to mention the sand-diviners, who discover things

that are both past and future. I had once reason to believe in

their predictions, on the occasion of my journey from Darfur to

Wadaï. I knew a man, named Salem, who had a son-in-law named

Ishak, who was very learned in the service of the sand. I did

not know how to provide for the expenses of my journey, and went

to this magician, who performed his calculations and uttered his

prophecy. I did not believe him at first, but I swear, before God,

that everything he predicted to me was realised to the letter,

as if he had read in the book of destiny. He answered to me that I

should succeed in departing for Wadaï, with all those who composed

my house, except my father’s wife, who would remain in Darfur. I

said this was impossible, because she was most interested of any of

us in our departure. But it came to pass that my father’s wife

refused to go, and escaped on the eve of departure, leaving to us

her daughter, aged about seven years. We never knew what became of

her. Ishak also said to me,—“The day that you arrive in your

father’s house at Wadaï you will receive a young slave answering

such a description, but you will not find your father until you

come to Tunis. The house of thy father is red.” These and other

predictions were fulfilled to the letter.

Whilst we were with Ishak many women came, in a state of great

excitement, to learn where they might find things that had been

stolen from them. He pointed out the place, but refused to betray

the robbers.

My uncle Zarouk once related to me that my father lost a camel in

the desert, and found it by means of a sand-diviner; and many other

curious things are told. However, I shall not enter into further

detail on this subject, for God only knows what is true.

END OF PART I.

PART II.—WADAÏ.

* * * * *

CHAPTER I.

Long Residence of the Sheikh in Wadaï — Message from his Father

— The Sultan opposes his Departure — He is Imprisoned — His

Slaves begin to desert him — His hard Case — The Sultan going

his rounds — He returns to his Land — A King’s Journey —

The Sheikh receives permission to depart — Annoying Delays —

March of an Army in the Desert — The Travellers are abandoned —

Night in the Wilderness — Wadaïans — Safe Arrival and Reception.

After my father left Darfur I remained there seven years and

some months, during which time I visited many places, and rested

under many trees, wandering hither and thither, mixing with the

inhabitants, sometimes going to the north and sometimes to the

south. Everywhere I was received by the principal persons of each

country, and I made a point of seeking the society of all men

at all remarkable for instruction. I examined everything, great

and small, and from whomsoever seemed to possess any interesting

notions I begged the dew of his knowledge and the rain-shower of

his learning. In a word, I did my best to obtain information of

every kind, both from persons of high and low degree.

When I had gathered what I desired of this kind, I thought of

taking a little rest, and of earning some gold and silver. I

was tranquilly established in my village, occupied with my

agricultural speculations, enjoying what God had bestowed upon

me, and endeavouring to increase my well-being, when I received a

letter from my father, announcing his approaching departure from

Wadaï to Tunis. “I want,” said he to me, “to see my mother

again, and I wish not to leave in Soudan any of those who are dear

to me. On receipt of this letter hasten to join me. It is my wish

that we should all set out together. Bring with thee thy family,

and come immediately. Salutations.” So I immediately prepared for

departure, and was ready in a few days. Little did I think of what

Fortune had in store for me.

I departed with my family from the village where I was established,

and repaired to Tendelty, to obtain my leave of absence. But, on

reaching the Fasher, I learned that the Sultan of Wadaï was marching

against Dar-Tamah, a country situated to the west of the northern

provinces of Darfur. It is of considerable extent, and bristles all

over with mountains. Its Sultan acknowledges himself as a vassal of

Darfur. The news of this expedition had just reached Tendelty; and it

was said that the Sultan of Wadaï intended, if he were successful,

to pursue his conquests, and attack Darfur itself. These reports

had much disquieted Mohammed Fadhl, who was making preparations for

war, and levying a great army. There could be no worse time for

me to make my request. However, I presented myself at court, and

asked permission to go and join my father. Fadhl frowned terribly,

and turned away his head, and the tranquil air with which he had

been discussing business entirely disappeared.

“Thy father,” said he, with a severe aspect, “is verily

singular in his way of going on. Does he imagine that we cannot

divine his intentions? Does he think to deceive me? He wants to

have thee by him, and enjoy thy presence, because his new Sultan

is advancing against us, and is about to enter this country with

his army. His object is to save thee from the dust and the danger

of battle. But no! thou shalt not depart. Thou shalt not procure

him this pleasure.”

Then the Sultan ordered the Sheikh, Abdallah Dagasa, to keep watch

over me until the conclusion of the war. This Sheikh had succeeded

Kourra in the post of Ab. He shut me up, with all those who were to

have departed with me, in a house opposite his own, and ordered ten

of his people to watch me. These ten gaolers came with their baggage,

and installed themselves at the entrance of my prison, and under the

eaves of my hut. For my part, I was forbidden to cross the threshold,

though my people could come and go as they pleased. Two sentinels

kept watch all night. God knows what sadness overwhelmed me, and

what dismal thoughts soon filled my mind. I succeeded, however,

in gaining the friendship of the chief of my guardians, by inviting

him to eat with me. He was naturally a good person, and treated me

with politeness. Whenever I rose he rose also, out of respect.

My store of provisions was soon exhausted. I asked permission to

send some one to my village to get a fresh supply, but this was

refused me, by the influence of Fakih Malik. I was therefore obliged

to make up my mind to sell some of my slaves, and they at once

began to hate me, though they had formerly exhibited the greatest

attachment. A young girl escaped from the prison, and I could not

learn whither she had gone. I wished to go out by day to seek for

her, but my guardians dissuaded me, saying that it would be wiser

to go by night. I went, therefore, after sunset to Fakih Malik, and

informed him of the loss of my slave, with tears in my eyes. The

Fakih seemed to sympathise with me, but said I was imprudent to

venture out of prison, and that if the Sultan came to know of it

he would punish me severely, for his anger against my father was

still great. He added, however, that he would do his best for me,

and promised to cause my beautiful slave to be sought for. I then

told him that my provisions were exhausted, and that from care I

could sleep neither night nor day. I had already been obliged to

sell one slave-girl to have wherewith to feed my people. “Is

it true,” I asked, “that the Sultan refuses me permission to

send to my village for provisions?” “I promise,” replied

he, “to obtain for thee what thou desirest. I swear to thee by

the god of this dark night.” I testified my gratitude to Malik,

and went away satisfied with his reception and his promises. But

I waited several days in my prison in vain, and felt that I had

been deceived. Then I wrote to him a letter, in which, having

spoken respectfully, like a son to his father, I reminded him of

his promise, and told him that I had no longer either provisions or

money; that the price of the slave sold was spent; and that I had no

longer even wherewith to eat. One of my guards carried this letter,

and returned soon afterwards with an answer, in which, after the

usual form of politeness, he said to me:—“A prudent man puts by

sufficient for the hour of want. Do as thou pleasest. I have begged

permission for thee of the Sultan, and thereby roused his anger,

so that he gave me no direct answer. Wait until God creates more

favourable circumstances. His providence watches over all. Know,

also, that if thou wert not of the noble blood of the Shereefs it

would have gone harder with thee. Salutations.”

On receiving this letter I was overwhelmed with grief; but

resignation was the only thing left to me. Some days afterwards,

two slave-girls and a male slave escaped from my prison. Then I

repented me that I had not already sold all my slaves. Their flight

drove me to despair, and I was devoured by disquietude; but I wrote

no more to Fakih Malik. I had now only left a slave-woman, blind of

one eye, who had been the concubine of my uncle, another woman, who

was my own concubine, and two Sedasy slaves. One morning I missed

my concubine. She also had fled. This last blow was too much. I

felt like the bird that has no longer any means of escaping from

its cage. I called the chief of my guards, and related to him my

sorrows. He was saddened, and he sighed and groaned, and, at the

same time, endeavoured to console me.

When the night came I went out with one of my guards, once more

determined to seek an interview with Malik, and to lay my case

before him. We had not gone far when a troop of horsemen came

riding down the street, and were close upon us before we observed

them. The Sultan himself was making his rounds through the city,

and distributing patrols and guards to prevent spies from penetrating

into the capital. Whoever on these occasions was found, without being

able to give a good account of himself, was put to death. Many thus

lost their lives. The expedition of the people of Wadaï against

Tamah was the reason of this unusual rigour.

When we were met by the cavalcade of the Sultan, some one cried

out,—

“Who goes there?”

I answered, “The Shereef, son of the Shereef Omar of Tunis.”

“Stop,” said the horseman; “here is the Sultan.”

I stood still, and the troop gathered round me, reining in their

horses. I was alone, for my companion, at the first sound of the

trampling of hoofs, had fled away like a bird. The Sultan drew

nigh. Happily for me there was with him one of his viziers, with

whom I was intimately united in friendship, named Suliman Tyr. Then

the Sultan said to me,—

“Who art thou?”

And the man who had hailed me at once put in,—“This is the man

whose father is at Wadaï.”

“And why art thou abroad at this hour?” said the Sultan.

Then I laid before him my misfortunes, and spoke of the loss of my

slaves, and of all I possessed. My teeth chattered for fear.

“But,” said the Sultan, “did I not set a guard over thee?”

“Yes, prince, and that is the cause of my misfortune. I am kept in

prison, but my slaves are allowed to fly, and none remain to me. I

wished to take advantage of the darkness, to go forth and visit

Malik, and lay before him my case, in the hope that he would speak

to your majesty, and that you would order either my deliverance or

my death; for it is better to die than to live in this anguish.”

“How is that?”

“Prince of the faithful,” replied I, “I no longer possess

anything—neither provisions nor slaves. I have passed many days

without eating. I have so suffered from hunger that I can no longer

sleep. In a moment of fever I have stolen a handful of millet from a

measure set before an ass, and devoured it like a beast of burden. I

am in despair. Misfortune holds my two hands down in the dust.”

Then Suliman Tyr came forward, and bent his knees, and begged, in the

name of our friendship, that I should not be made responsible for the

faults of my father, but that I should be restored to liberty. His

pleading was so eloquent, that the Sultan was afflicted, and said,—

“I take away thy guards, and restore thee to liberty; but thou

shalt not depart from Tendelty until I am well assured that the

Sultan of Wadaï has given up the idea of warring upon us, and has

returned to his country.”

These words recalled me to life, and calmed my sorrows, and

I said,—

“I beg that your majesty will allow me to return to my estates,

to take wherewith to live. I have suffered all that can be

suffered. Perfumes are for wedding-nights, not for other nights. I

only ask what is absolutely necessary. Grant me this grace, and

may God reward you.”

The Sultan acquiesced in this demand, and allowed me full right over

my property; so I returned full of joy, happy at having attained my

object, and being delivered from my prison. It was now four months

from the commencement of my captivity. I quoted the words of the

Prophet,—“If Sadness enters the lizard’s hole, Joy follows

it, and drives it out.” I passed the night most tranquilly,

and in the morning my guards were taken away, and I felt myself at

liberty. I went immediately to see Malik, who congratulated me on

my deliverance, but was in reality grieved and disconcerted.

I then sent to my village for grain and provisions for me and

my people, and remained at the Fasher until the season when the

rain began to fall in torrents. Then I received the order to go

to Aboul-Joudoul and remain there. So I departed, and, returning

to my old dwelling, began to cultivate my land, and, above all,

to sow millet, which forms the principal food of the Forians. The

seed-time was favourable, and every one predicted for me an abundant

harvest. My fields were magnificent, and the village envied me.

Some time before the harvest season I was visited by one of the

kings of Darfur, who invited me to accompany him on a journey he was

about to make. I allowed myself to be persuaded, and departed from

Aboul-Joudoul, in hopes to acquire this king’s good-will. After one

day’s journey we reached a country where were many relations of

his, and stopped to pass the night. He was detained there the next

day and treated to a magnificent repast. Nothing could exceed the

politeness with which I myself was entertained. I was full of joy,

when suddenly there rode up to us one of the Sultan’s special

couriers, and, having saluted the company, said,—

“Which of you is the son of the Shereef Omar?”

“I am the man,” replied I; “at thy service.” “The Sultan

asks for thee. Take the trouble to come to the Fasher.”

“Willingly,” said I; but it was evident to all that I was

troubled. The king said to me,—

“Wherefore this fear?”

“It is because I am ignorant why the Sultan sends for me.”

“This,” said he, “is no cause of disquietude; why shouldst

thou torment thyself?”

However, I still remained uneasy, and when night came went forth

secretly and ordered my slave to saddle my horse, and, departing with

him, rode all night, and by dawn of day reached Aboul-Joudoul. Here I

learned that the courier had been in search of me. I took provisions,

issued my orders, and, getting upon another horse, pushed on to

Tendelty without stopping. On arriving, I went to the house of Malik,

who received me graciously, and said,—

“The Sultan, our master, consents to thy departure. Thou art free;

he leaves thee to do as thou wilt, except that thou must be ready

to go in a week. Return to thy house, take thy family, and depart

with the swiftness of a bird.”

“But,” said I, “my fields are sown, and we are on the eve

of the harvest. Will not the Sultan allow me time to gather in

my crops?”

“Listen to me,” he replied; “the Sultan, our master, is

going to send the Fakih Ahmed Abou-Sarrah as an ambassador to the

Prince of Wadaï. It is his desire that thou shouldst depart with

this expedition. If thou wilt take advantage of this opportunity,

prepare at once. Think well of the matter, for at a future time it

will not be possible for thee to leave Darfur. As for thy crops, care

not for them. However, thou art wise enough to choose for thyself.”

I accordingly agreed to go, and returned to Aboul-Joudoul to get

ready. I abandoned, though unwilling, my crops, which would have

been very profitable, and made a present of them, before witnesses,

to one of my servants. Then I returned with my family to the Fasher,

and waited upon Malik, who handed over to me a passport signed by

the Sultan, recommending me to all the chiefs by the way. We had

special orders for the governor of the western province, by which

we were to leave Darfur, requesting him to accompany us with his

soldiers until he brought us to a place of safety. “Take this

order,” said Malik, “and go and join Sarrah, who waits for

thee at Kelkabieh.” I took the paper, and having thanked Malik,

bade him adieu.

Next morning I set out, and arrived in two days at Kelkabieh. I

stopped at Sarf-el-Degaj to see Ahmed the younger, son of Ahmed

Bedawee, with whom I had come from Cairo. I remained with him twelve

days, whilst we waited to collect a sufficient number of travellers

for Wadaï. Then we set out, taking the direction of the western

province, that is to say, the province of the Massalit. We reached it

in five days, and on the sixth presented ourselves before the king

of the province, and showed him our firman. He received us well,

and promised to accompany us with his troops, and to leave us only

when we should be out of danger, but he would not depart, he said,

before thirty days were over. We laid before him our remonstrance, to

the effect that this delay would be too long, and that our provisions

would be exhausted; but he told us that he had business to perform

which rendered it necessary for him to remain. We flattered him, and,

so to speak, scratched his head to soothe him, as the camel-drivers

soothe their beasts; but he remained obstinate, and we were compelled

to tarry in that country until the thirty days had expired. Then

we presented ourselves before him, and reminded him of his promise;

but he put us off once more for three days, swearing that he would

then set out. We waited until the three days passed, and threatened

to return. Then he got into a passion, and made loud complaints,

and invented all kinds of explanations. “This time,” said he,

“in three days I will depart without fail. God is the hope of us

all, and he will relieve me from my embarrassments.”

We agreed, however unwilling, to wait, and these other three days

being passed, presented ourselves to him, and said,—“The honest

man performs what he promises, and clouds give rain after thunder.”

This time he set out with us, followed by some of his troops and

guards. Our caravan marched under his protection for three days,

which, such were his attentions to us, seemed like a continued

festival. But the fourth day we halted upon one of his estates,

at the extreme limit of the province. Here he spent the whole week

collecting his soldiers, horse and foot. New embarrassment on our

part, new delays—we feared again to see our journey put off.

However, every day new additions were made to our company; troops of

men came flocking in from all sides; and our encampment resembled

that of an army. One morning he looked abroad and saw that he

had sufficient strength, and ordered the camels to be laden, and

gave the signal of departure. It was still early when we started;

our caravan was placed in the middle of the army, which marched

in one mass. Presently we got beyond the cultivated country, and

entered the uninhabited districts which separate, like a wall,

Darfur from Wadaï. In this wilderness we beheld an innumerable

quantity of wild animals, from the elephant down to the gazelle and

the hare. The hares, frightened by the noise we made in marching,

started up from their covers, and flying on all sides, as if blind,

came some of them into the midst of the soldiers, who killed them

nearly at their feet. A great number of gazelles and other animals,

bewildered by this invasion of their territory, were killed without

trouble. The army amused itself thus with hunting until the great

heat of the day had passed, when the king set up his tent, and all

by degrees followed his example. Fires were lighted over the whole

surface of the plain, and all the game taken was roasted. The meal

finished, and the heat somewhat subsiding, we again set out; but

suddenly our progress was arrested, and the vacillating governor

rode up and informed us that he intended to return. I alone dared

to make an objection. “If thou returnest,” said I, “we will

return with thee. We will not remain here, unescorted, in the midst

of these solitudes.” He endeavoured to excuse himself, alleging

his numerous occupations, but we insisted that our safety should

be provided for. Then he gave us one of his suite as a guide, with

an escort of fifty or sixty horsemen, and told him to accompany us

until we were in safety, and until we sent him away. Then we bade

adieu to the king, who immediately set off at a gallop, followed

by the great mob of his army, and returned towards his country,

and as we pursued our way in the other direction their murmur

and trampling soon no longer came to us, and the last stragglers

disappeared amidst the trees. Our guide escorted us for some hours,

and then pulled up and told us that he intended to leave us. We made

what opposition we could, and repeated to him over and over again

that we were without means of defence; that four armed men would

be sufficient to destroy us; and that, if anything happened to us,

our blood would be upon his head. “Nay,” said he, “I will

not proceed, for you are now near the cultivated lands of Wadaï;

and we are afraid, on account of our enemies. If they perceive us,

blood will be spilt, and it will be your fault.” We conjured him

in the name of all the saints and of all the prophets, and exerted

ourselves to persuade him to accompany us a little farther. He

yielded; but scarcely had he escorted us a quarter of an hour more

when he and his companions again reined in, and said that they would

not advance a single step farther. He swore that he had never led

out his escort to so great a distance before, and, having given us

a guide, and received our adieus, galloped off and left us. Then

fear entered our minds: every bush, every clump of trees, seemed to

us to be men approaching to kill us. Uneasiness blinded our eyes;

night was coming on; there seemed to be no longer a single drop of

blood in our veins, so greatly were we terrified.

Darkness came over us in the middle of a forest. We made our camels

kneel down, and hastened to collect wood and light great fires all

around to keep off the lions. We passed a melancholy night of fear,

ever on the watch. Only few of the most stupid were able to sleep;

for the roaring of the lions and the howling of the wolves and the

hyenas continually filled our ears. Sometimes also the crashing step

of an elephant made us shudder for our safety. We saw an incredible

number of these huge animals in the forest; on the ground, moreover,

were spread on all sides great quantities of tusks, which had grown

yellow in the sun, and even black. We observed some enormous ones,

sufficient of themselves to lade a good camel; others were split

in two, or covered with crevices in an incalculable number.

During the night we kept good watch, and the next day, before

sunrise, we had laden our camels, which soon went swinging away

with their regular step through the trees. Having marched for about

three hours, we entered a district which appeared to be cultivated,

and our guide declared to us that he dared not go any farther, and

bidding us adieu hastened away, fearing for himself. We proceeded

for about a quarter of an hour, when suddenly there appeared coming

down upon us a troop of cavaliers, fully armed, bearing lances

with large iron heads, and javelins. They threw several of the

latter towards us, and we halted and cried, “Peace! peace! we

are merely travellers, your guests!”—“Do not move,” they

answered; “remain where you are, and wait till we have informed

the governor.” We halted in the sun, not being allowed even to

go under the shade of some trees that were at a little distance

from us; we sat down under cover of four camels. The horsemen of

Wadaï took position opposite to us, and allowed us neither to

advance nor to retire. But, meanwhile, they had sent a messenger

to their governor, or king, who soon appeared, accompanied by some

ten horsemen. His approach was announced by the sharp jingling of

the bells which hung on the necks of the horses. The troop drew

nigh, and, putting foot to ground, sat under the shade of a tree,

and called us to them. We advanced, and when we were near at hand

one of the horsemen came a little forward, and said to us: “The

king salutes you.” It is customary for a Wadaïan king never to

address himself directly to his visitors; he communicates with them

only through one of his suite. We returned the salutation, and the

same horseman said to us: “The king demands who you may be, whence

you come, and what is the object of your visit?”—“We come from

Darfur,” was our reply; “our caravan is composed of merchants,

of an envoy from the Prince of Darfur, and of another individual,

a simple traveller, the Shereef, son of Omar of Tunis.”

Our names were written down upon paper, and the king, mounting his

horse, departed with five of his people, leaving the other five

with those who at first met us. As he departed he said: “Remain

here until you receive my orders.” We made our camels kneel down,

and sat ourselves under the shade of a tree. Our guards gave us some

water, and we waited about two hours, when there came to us, jingling

their bells, another troop of horsemen. They were dressed in a long

and ample garment, like the black dress of the Fellatah women of

Egypt; but they were bareheaded. Every one of them, behind each ear,

had a swelling something like the bubo of a plague-patient. These

swellings are produced artificially, by the means of cups applied

behind the ears, and from which the air is exhausted by suction. When

the cups or horns are taken away the tumefied skin is puckered up by

the fingers, and two lines of incisions being made, the portion of

skin between them is removed, and the cups are again applied. When a

good deal of blood has been drawn, cotton is applied, and, the wound

being healed, there remains a projection resembling a gland. The

people of Wadaï lay great stress upon these swellings, which may

be called bumps of courage. Whoever does not possess them is looked

upon as a coward, and is repulsed on all hands. In the language of

the country they are called Dauma, in allusion to the fruit of the

Daum. The Wadaïans despise strangers who are not thus distinguished,

thinking it impossible that any one can be courageous who does not

possess these bumps.

As I have said, all these horsemen were bareheaded, except their

chief, who wore a skull-cap of black stuff; he had also a Melayeb,

or scarf-mantle, over his shoulders. The party alighted at a

certain distance and ordered us to approach, and when we drew

nigh their chief said:—“The Aguid (or governor), my master,

salutes you.” We answered by compliments to the chief and to

the Sultan; and after some further communications our names were

written down, accompanied by a complete description of ourselves

and the merchandise we brought with us. This done, we were told to

wait during the hot time of the day, when they promised to take us

to the Aguid.

We rested in the shade, and ate, and drank, and slept, until the

heat of the sun diminished, and the shadows were lengthening, when

we were ordered to mount our camels. The Wadaïans surrounded us,

and we marched rapidly until dark, when we reached the residence

of the governor. This residence had a court nearly as large as the

Roumeileh, one of the great squares of Cairo. We were placed in one

corner, and soon after we had arranged our baggage were called,

to be presented to the Aguid. They took us to the principal hut

in the centre of the enclosure, where we were told to sit down

opposite a partition made of reeds. Some one came out and said the

Aguid salutes you. We returned the salute, and the governor himself,

from behind the partition which separated him from us, said: “Who

may you be, and wherefore do you come to Wadaï? whence do you come,

and what merchandise do you bring?” We answered appropriately,

and were then told that we might consider ourselves as the guests

of the Sultan, who was to be immediately apprised of our arrival. A

courier was, indeed, immediately despatched to the capital, and

we waited patiently under the protection of the governor of the

eastern province for seven days, during which food was given us.

On the eighth day the messenger returned, accompanied by a troop

of horsemen. They had with them a wooden tambourine, the sound

of which may be heard at a great distance, and straight trumpets,

at least three cubits in length, which produce a strong sound. As

they approached the village the troop announced itself by this

curious music. The Aguid, with all his people, went out to receive

it. The bells hung at the necks of the horses jingled. I noticed

particularly that every steed had a housing of red leather.

When the horsemen had alighted and set themselves in a circle on

the ground, we were ordered to approach, and the same series of

questions by which we had already been so often tormented was put

to us, and written down in the same way, and our answers written

down in the same way, and compared with the former ones. After

this we passed the night tranquilly, and next day began to march,

accompanied by the Kamkolak Nasser. We advanced three days until we

reached Abaly, a place where all strangers arriving in Wadaï are

placed, as it were, for three days in quarantine, although there

is no reason for doing so, in the fear of pestilence. We resigned

ourselves to our fate, and prepared to pass our time as best we

might; but shortly after sunset my uncle Zarouk, who had heard of

my arrival, came and told me that my father had departed for Tunis,

no longer expecting me to be able to escape from Darfur. My uncle

had asked permission of the Sultan to withdraw me immediately from

Abaly; and I accordingly loaded my camels, and went with him to

a house that belonged to my father, and was situated at no great

distance. A good night’s rest soon made me forget my fatigue. Next

morning I remarked the red colour of the walls of the house, and

remembered the sand-diviner, Ishak of Darfur, and his marvellous

predictions. Zarouk prepared in my honour a repast of welcome,

and invited guests, and the Sultan himself sent the materials

of a veritable banquet. The messes were carried in twelve oblong

wooden tubs, with chain handles, each carried by four slaves. This

present was preceded by a young eunuch, according to the custom of

the country on such occasions. I was told that this was meant as a

compliment to my father, who had been a vizier of the Sultan. The

tubs were full, some of rice cooked in honey; others of fowls fried

in butter; others of young pigeons; others of cakes of delicious

taste. We gave a share to the slave-porters, and ate ourselves,

and fed our servants, and treated the guests and the neighbours,

and yet there remained still a vast quantity of viands.

Next evening the Sultan sent seven more tubs, and an equal number the

following day. On the third day Nasser and the first interpreter

of the Sultan came to see us, and I gave to them my presents

for his majesty. These presents were very humble; consisting,

among other things, of ten pounds of yemen coffee, in the berry,

ten pounds of soap, and two rings of latten, weighing each two

pounds. My offerings, though of slight value, were accepted

graciously, on account of the respect the prince bore my father;

and on the evening of the same day a eunuch came from the Sultan,

and presented me with a large parcel and two young female slaves,

one still a virgin, but the other, who was not so, much handsomer

and better dressed. I returned my thanks, and we recited the Fatha

in honour of the Sultan. On the following morning another eunuch

came, accompanied by several individuals and by laden camels,

bringing fresh presents. These consisted of five jars of honey,

ten jars of butter, two loads of wheat, a load of salt fish, a

load of tekaki, or parcels of thread or cotton used as money, a

grey horse, saddled and bridled, fed by a slave, seven spans high,

and two women-slaves, as servants. We expressed our gratitude,

and uttered sincere prayers for the Sultan. In the packet I have

mentioned were found two garments of the finest tissue, one black and

one white, each worth at least the price of two slaves, and a piece

of English calico. Besides all these things, I received two bulls,

ready for killing, and a young she-camel. From time to time other

presents were sent me; among others, a couple hundreds of eggs of the

speckled hen. In Wadaï these hens live wild, and lay in the spring,

when the peasants collect immense quantities of eggs. It is customary

every year for each canton to send to the Sultan at least a hundred

camel-loads, which are generally distributed to the courtiers.

I had been four months in Wadaï without having seen, or been seen,

by the Sultan. An accident caused my reception. According to the

decrees of God, my hand was burnt by an explosion of gunpowder. The

Sultan learned my misfortune, and was told I suffered dreadfully;

so he sent me a jar of olive-oil, which had been preserved for

more than sixty years, and had acquired a red tint and bitter

taste. This oil was my salvation, for by it God cured me. I went

to the mosque to pray, and was afterwards sent for to the palace

by the Sultan, who received me with benevolence. He recommended

me to pursue my studies, and advised me to put myself under the

teaching of Sheikh Seid Ahmed, who was at that time giving lessons

of civil and religious law at Warah. I did so for some time, and

read several learned books; but a misunderstanding with the Sheikh

caused me to abandon these studies and his society.