Having at length entered the corn-, or rather millet-fields of Dawerghú,

we soon ascended the sandhills, where the whole character of the

landscape is altered; for while the dúm-bush almost ceases, the rétem,

_Spartium monospermum_, is the most common botanical ornament of the

ground where the cultivation of the fields has left a free spot, whilst

fine specimens of the mimosa break the monotony of the fields. Having

passed several clusters of cottages forming an extensive district, I saw

to the right an open space descending towards a green sheet of water,

filling a sort of valley or hollow, where a short time afterwards, when

the summer harvest is over, the peculiar sort of sorghum called másakwá

is sown. Being shaded by some fine acacias, the spot was very inviting,

and, feeling already tired, sick and weak as I was, though after a

journey of only two hours, I determined to remain there during the heat

of the day. I had scarcely stretched myself on the ground, when a man

brought me word that a messenger, sent by Ghét, the chief of the Welád

Slimán, had passed by with the news that this wandering and marauding

tribe had left Búrgu and returned to Kánem. This was very unpleasant

news, as, from all that I had heard, it appeared to me that Búrgu must

be an interesting country, at least as much so as Ásben or Aïr, being

favoured by deep valleys and ravines, and living sources of fine water,

and producing, besides great quantities of excellent dates, even grapes

and figs, at least in some favoured spots.

The morning had been rather dull, but before noon the sun shone forth,

and our situation on the sloping ground of the high country, overlooking

a great extent of land in the rich dress of vegetable life, was very

pleasant. There was scarcely a bare spot: all was green, except that the

ears of the millet and sorghum were almost ripe, and began to assume a

yellowish-brown tint; but how different is the height of the stalks, the

very largest of which scarcely exceeds fifteen feet, from those I saw

afterwards on my return from Timbúktu, in the rich valleys of Kébbi.

Several Kánembú were passing by and enlivened the scenery.

When the heat of the sun began to abate I set my little caravan once

more in motion, and passed on through the level country, which in the

simplicity of my mind I thought beautiful, and which I greatly enjoyed.

After about an hour’s march, we passed a large pond or pool, situated to

the left of the road, and formed by the rains, bordered by a set of

trees of the acacia tribe, and enlivened by a large herd of fine cattle.

Towards evening, after some trouble, we found a path leading through the

fields into the interior of a little village, called Alairúk, almost

hidden behind the high stalks of millet. Our reception was rather cold,

such as a stranger may expect to find in all the villages situated near

a capital, the inhabitants of which are continually pestered by calls

upon their hospitality. But, carrying my little residence and all the

comforts I wanted with me, I cared little about their treatment; and my

tent was soon pitched in a separate courtyard. But all my enjoyment was

destroyed by a quarrel which arose between my horseman and the master of

the dwelling, who would not allow him to put his horse where he wished:

my horseman had even the insolence to beat the man who had received us

into his house. This is the way in which affairs are managed in these

countries.

[Sidenote: Sunday, September 14th.]

After a refreshing night I started a little later than on the day

previous, winding along a narrow path through the fields, where, besides

sorghum, karás (_Hibiscus esculentus_) is cultivated, which is an

essential thing for preparing the soups of the natives, in districts

where the leaves of the kúka, or monkey-bread-tree, and of the hajilíj,

or _Balanites_, are wanting; for though the town of Kúkawa has received

its name from the circumstance that a young tree of this species was

found on the spot where the sheikh Mohammed el Kánemi, the father of the

ruling sultan, laid the first foundation of the present town,

nevertheless scarcely any kúka is seen for several miles round Kúkawa.

The sky was cloudy, and the country became less interesting than the day

before. We met a small troop of native traders, with dried fish, which

forms a great article of commerce throughout Bórnu; for though the

Kanúri people at present are almost deprived of the dominion, and even

the use, of the fine sheet of water which spreads out in the midst of

their territories, the fish, to which their forefathers have given the

name of food (bú-ni, from bú, to eat), has remained a necessary article

for making their soups. The fields in this part of the country were not

so well looked after, and were in a more neglected state, but there was

a tolerable variety of trees, though rather scanty. Besides prickly

underwood of talhas, there were principally the hajilíj or bíto

(_Balanites Ægyptiaca_), the selím, the kurna, the serrákh, and the

gherret or _Mimosa Nilotica_. Farther on, a short time before we came to

the village Kalíkágorí, I observed a woman collecting the seeds of an

eatable _Poa_, called “kréb” or “kashá,” of which there are several

species, by swinging a sort of basket through the rich meadow ground.

These species of grasses afford a great deal of food to the inhabitants

of Bórnu, Bagírmi, and Wadáÿ, but more especially to the Arab settlers

in these countries, or the Shúwa; in Bórnu, at least, I have never seen

the black natives make use of this kind of food, while in Bagírmi it

seems to constitute a sort of luxury even with the wealthier classes.

The reader will see in the course of my narrative, that in Mas-eña I

lived principally on this kind of _Poa_. It makes a light palatable

dish, but requires a great deal of butter.

After having entered the forest and passed several small waterpools, we

encamped near one of these, when the heat of the sun began to make

itself felt. This district abounded in mimosas of the species called

gherret, úm-el-barka, or “kingar,” which affords a very excellent wood

for saddles and other purposes, while the coals prepared from it are

used for making powder. My old talkative, but not very energetic

companion Bu-Zéd, was busy in making new pegs for my tent, the very hard

black ground of Bórnu destroying pegs very soon; and in the meantime,

assisted by Hosén ben Hár, gave me a first insight into the numerous

tribes living in Kánem and round the bahar-el-ghazál. The fruits of the

gherret, which in their general appearance are very like those of the

tamarind-tree, are a very important native medicine, especially in cases

of dysentery, and it is most probably to them that I owed my recovery

when attacked by that destructive disease during my second stay in

Sókoto in September, 1854. The same tree is essential for preparing the

water-skins, that most necessary article for crossing the desert. The

kajíji was plentiful in this neighbourhood. The root of this little

plant, which is about the size of a nut, the natives use in the most

extensive way for perfuming themselves with.

Late in the afternoon we continued our journey through the forest, which

was often interrupted by open patches. After having pursued the path for

some miles we quitted it, and travelled in a more easterly direction

through a pleasant hilly country, full of verdure, and affording

pasturage to a great many cattle, for the Kánembú, like the Fúlbe, go

with their herds to a great distance during certain seasons of the year;

and all the cattle from the places about Ngórnu northwards is to be

found in these quarters during the cold season. But not being able to

find water here, we were obliged to try the opposite direction, in order

to look for this element so essential for passing a comfortable night.

At length, late in the evening, traversing a very rugged tract of

country, we reached the temporary encampment, or berí, of a party of

Kánembú with their herds, whilst a larger berí was moving eastward. Here

also we were unable to find water, and even milk was to be got but

sparingly.

[Sidenote: Monday, 15th.]

Before we were ready to move, the whole nomadic encampment broke up; the

cattle going in front, and the men, women, and children following with

their little household on asses. The most essential or only apparatus of

these wandering neatherds are the tall sticks for hanging up the milk to

secure it; the “sákti” or skins for milk and water, the calabashes, and

the kórió. The men are always armed with their long wooden shields, the

“ngáwa fógobe,” and their spears, and some are most fantastically

dressed, as I have described on a former occasion. After having loaded

our camels, and proceeded some distance, we came to the temporary abode

of another large herd, whose guardians at first behaved unfriendly,

forbidding our tasting a drop of their delicious stuff; but they soon

exchanged their haughty manners for the utmost cordiality, when Mʿadi,

an elder brother of Fúgo ʿAli, our friend in Maduwári, recognised me. He

even insisted on my encamping on the spot, and staying the day with him,

and it was with difficulty that he allowed me to pursue my march, after

having swallowed as much delicious milk as my stomach would bear.

Further on we joined the main road, and found to the left of it a

handsome pool of muddy water, and filled two skins with it. Certainly

there is nothing worse for a European than this stagnant dirty water;

but during the rainy season, and for a short time afterwards, he is

rarely able to get any other.

Soon after I had another specimen of the treatment to which the natives

are continually exposed from the king’s servants in these countries;

for, meeting a large herd of fine sheep, my horseguard managed to lay

hold of the fattest specimen of the whole herd, notwithstanding the

cries of the shepherd, whom I in vain endeavoured to console by offering

him the price of the animal. During the heat of the day, when we were

encamped under the scanty shade of a few gáwo, my people slaughtered the

sheep; but, as in general, I only tasted a little of the liver. The

shade was so scanty, and the sun so hot, that I felt very weak in the

afternoon when we went on a little.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, Sept. 16th.]

I felt tolerably strong. Soon after we had started, we met a great many

horses which had been sent here for pasturage, and then encountered

another fish kafla. My horseman wanted me all at once to proceed to the

town of Yó, from whence he was to return; and he continued on without

stopping, although I very soon felt tired, and wanted to make a halt.

The country, at the distance of some miles south from the komádugu, is

rather monotonous and barren, and the large tamarind-tree behind the

town of Yó is seen from such a distance that the traveller, having the

same conspicuous object before his eyes for such a length of time,

becomes tired out before he reaches it. The dúm-palm is the principal

tree in this flat region, forming detached clusters, while the ground in

general is extremely barren.

Proceeding with my guardian in advance, we at length reached the town,

in front of which there is a little suburb; and being uncertain whether

we should take quarters inside or outside, we entered it. It consisted

of closely-packed streets, was extremely hot, and exhaled such an

offensive smell of dried fish, that it appeared to me a very

disagreeable and intolerable abode. Nevertheless we rode to the house of

the shitíma, or rather, in the full form, Shitíma Yóma (which is the

title the governor bears), a large building of clay. He was just about

taking another wife; and large quantities of corn, intended as provision

for his new household, were heaped up in front of it.[5] Having applied

to his men for quarters, a small courtyard with a large hut was assigned

to us in another part of the town, and we went there; but it was

impossible for me to make myself in any way comfortable in this narrow

space, where a small gáwo afforded very scanty shade. Being almost

suffocated, and feeling very unwell, I mounted my horse again, and

hastened out of the gate, and was very glad to have regained the fresh

air. We then encamped about 600 yards from the town, near a shady

tamarind-tree; and I stretched my feeble limbs on the ground, and fell

into a sort of lethargy for some hours, enjoying a luxurious

tranquillity; I was so fatigued with my morning’s ride, that I thought

with apprehension on what would become of me after my companions had

joined me, when I should be obliged to bear fatigue of a quite different

description.

[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.

M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.

YÓ AND THE KOMÁDUGU.

Sepr. 17th. 1851.]

As soon as I felt strong enough to rise from my couch, I walked a few

paces in order to get a sight of the river or “komádugu.” It was at

present a fine sheet of water, the bed being entirely full,

“tsimbúllena,” and the stream running towards the Tsád with a strong

current; indeed, I then scarcely suspected that on another occasion I

should encamp for several days in the dry bed of this river, which,

notwithstanding the clear and undoubted statements of the members of the

former expedition with regard to its real character, had been made by

Capt. W. Allen to carry the superfluous waters of the Tsád into the

Kwára. The shores of the komádugu near this place are quite picturesque,

being bordered by splendid tamarind-trees, and “kínzim,” or dúm-palms,

besides fine specimens of the acacia tribe on the northern shore. At the

foot of the tamarind-trees a very good kind of cotton is grown, while

lower down, just at this season of the year, wheat is produced by

irrigating regularly laid-out grounds by way of the shadúf or “lámbuna.”

Cotton and small quantities of wheat are the only produce of this

region, besides fish and the fruit of the _Cucifera_ or dúm-palm, which

forms an essential condiment for the “kunú,” a kind of soup made of

Negro millet; for the place is entirely destitute of any other

_Cerealia_, and millet and sorghum are grown only to a small extent.

Cattle also are very scarce in Yó; and very little milk is to be

procured. Fish is the principal food of the inhabitants, of which there

are several very palatable species in the river, especially one of

considerable size, from eighteen to twenty inches long, with a very

small mouth, resembling the mullet.

I saw also a specimen of the electric fish, about ten inches long, and

very fat, which was able to numb the arm of a man for several minutes.

It was of an ashy colour on the back, while the belly was quite white;

the tail and the hind fins were red. Mr. Overweg made a slight sketch of

one.

During the night a heavy gale arose, and we had to fasten the ropes

attached to the top of the pole; but the storm passed by, and there was

not a drop of rain; indeed the rainy season, with regard to Bórnu, had

fairly gone by.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, Sept. 17th.]

Enjoyed in the morning the scenery and the fresh air of the river. Men

were coming to bathe, women fetching water, and passengers and small

parties were crossing the river, swimming across with their clothes upon

their heads, or sitting on a yoke of calabashes with the water up to

their middle. A kafla or “karábka” of Tébu people from Kánem had arrived

the day before, and were encamped on the other side of the river, being

eager to cross; but they were not allowed to do so till they had

obtained permission; for, during several months, this river or valley

forms annually a sort of quarantine line, whilst, during the other

portion of the year, small caravans, at least, go to and fro at their

pleasure.

The only boat upon the water was a mákara, formed by several yokes of

calabashes, and of that frail character described by me in another part

of this work, in which we ourselves were to cross the river.

Unfortunately it was not possible to enjoy quietly and decently the

beautiful shade of the splendid tamarind-trees, on account of the number

of waterfowl and pelicans which reside in their branches.

On removing some of my luggage, I found that the white ants were busy

destroying, as fast as possible, my leather bags and mats; and we were

accordingly obliged to remove every thing, and to place layers of

branches underneath. There are great numbers of ants hereabouts; but

only moderately sized ant-hills are seen; nothing like the grand

structures which I afterwards saw in Bagírmi.

[Sidenote: Thursday, Sept. 18th.]

About two hours after midnight Mr. Overweg arrived, accompanied by one

of the most conspicuous of the Welád Slimán, of the name of Khálef-

Allah, announcing the approach of our little troop; which did not,

however, make its appearance until ten o’clock in the morning, when the

most courageous and best mounted of them galloped up to my tent in

pairs, brandishing their guns. There were twenty-five horsemen, about a

dozen men mounted upon camels, and seven or eight on foot, besides

children. They dismounted a little to the east of our tents, and formed

quite an animated encampment; though of course quarrels were sure to

break out soon.

Feeling a little stronger, I mounted with my fellow-traveller in the

afternoon, in order to make a small excursion along the southern shore

of the river, in a westerly direction. The river, in general, runs from

west to east; but here, above the town, it makes considerable windings,

and the shore is not so high as at the ford. The vegetation was

beautiful; large tamarind trees forming a dense shade above, whilst the

ground was covered with a great variety of plants and herbs just in

flower. On the low promontories of the shore were several small fishing

villages, consisting of rather low and light huts made of mats, and

surrounded by poles for drying the fish, a great many of which,

principally of the mullet kind, were just suspended for that purpose.

Having enjoyed the aspect of the quiet river-scenery for some time, we

returned round the south side of the town. The ground here is hilly; but

I think the hills, though at present covered with verdure, are nothing

more than mounds of rubbish formed in the course of time round the town,

which appears to have been formerly of greater extent.

[Sidenote: Friday, Sept. 19th.]

Overweg and I, accompanied by Khálef-Allah and a guide, made an

excursion down the river, in order, if possible, to reach its mouth; but

the experiment proved that there is no path on the southern shore, the

track following the northern bank: for on that side, not far from the

mouth, lies a considerable Kánembú place called Bóso, though, in the

present weak state of the Bórnu kingdom, much exposed to the incursions

of the Tawárek. Having penetrated as far as a village, or rather a

walled town, named Fátse, the walls of which are in a decayed state, and

the population reduced to a dozen families, we were obliged to give up

our intended survey of the river. As for myself, I was scarcely able to

make any long excursion; for, on attempting to mount my horse again, I

fainted, and fell senseless to the ground, to the great consternation of

my companions, who felt convinced my end was approaching. We therefore

returned to our encampment. In the evening I had a severe attack of

fever.[6]

[Sidenote: Saturday, Sept. 20th.]

It had been determined the day before that we should cross the river to-

day, and the governor’s permission had been obtained; but as the

vizier’s messenger had not yet arrived, we decided upon waiting another

day. Feeling a little better, I made a rough sketch of the town, with

the dúm-palms around it, and prepared myself, as well as I was able, for

the fatiguing march before me. We had a good specimen to-day of the set

of robbers and freebooters we had associated with in order to carry out

the objects of the mission. The small Tébu caravan, which I mentioned

above as having arrived from Kánem, and which had brought the news that

the people of Wadáy had made an alliance with all the tribes hostile to

the Welád Slimán, in order to destroy the latter, had not been allowed

to cross the river until to-day. They were harmless people, carrying

very little luggage (chiefly dates) upon a small number of oxen; but as

soon as they had crossed, our companions held a council, and, the

opinion of the most violent having gained the upper hand, they fell upon

the poor Tébu, or Kréda, as they call them, and took away all their

dates by force. The skins were then divided; and the greater part of

them had already been consumed or carried away, when an old Arab

arrived, and, upbraiding his companions with their mean conduct,

persuaded them to collect what remained, or that could be found, and

restore it to the owners. In the evening the vizier’s messenger arrived,

and the crossing of the river was definitively fixed for the next day.

[Sidenote: Monday, Sept. 22nd.]

Rose early, in order to get over in time, there being no other means of

crossing than two mákara, each consisting of three yokes of calabashes.

The camels, as is always the case, being the most difficult to manage,

had to cross first; and after much trouble and many narrow escapes

(owing principally to the unevenness of the bottom of the valley, the

water-channel having formed a deep hollow—at present from ten to eleven

feet deep—near the southern shore, while in the middle the bottom rises

considerably, leaving a depth of only six or seven feet) they all got

safely over, and were left to indulge in the foliage of the beautiful

mimosas which embellish the northern border of the river. The horses

followed next, and lastly we ourselves with the luggage.

About nine o’clock in the morning I found myself upon the river on my

three-yoked “mákara,” gliding through the stream in a rather irregular

style of motion, according as the frail ferry-boat was drawn or pushed

by the two black swimmers yoked to it. It was a beautiful day, and the

scenery highly interesting; but, having been exposed to the sun all the

morning, I was glad to find a little shade. When all the party had

successively landed, and the heat of the day had abated, we loaded our

camels and commenced our march. We were now left entirely to the

security and protection which our own arms might afford us; for all the

country to the north of the komádugu has become the domain of

freebooters, and though nominally sheikh ʿOmár’s dominion stretches as

far as Berí, and even beyond that place, nevertheless his name is not

respected here, except where supported by arms.

The country through which we were passing bore the same character as

that for some miles round the capital; a very stiff, black soil, clothed

with short grass and a few trees far between. Having encountered a flock

of sheep, our friends gave chase; and after they had laid hold of three

fat rams, we decided to encamp.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, Sept. 23rd.]

Travels and discoveries in North and Central Africa, Vol. 3 (of 5) · 第 2 / 40 段