country remained nearly the same; it then opened, and became better
cultivated; and soon after we saw the clay walls of Báruwa, though
scarcely to be distinguished, owing to the high mounds of rubbish
imbedding them on all sides. Near the south-west gate of the town the
road leads over the high mound (which destroys entirely the protection
the wall might otherwise afford to the inhabitants), and lays its whole
interior open to the eyes of the traveller. It consists of closely
packed huts, generally without a courtyard, but shaded here and there by
a mimosa or kúrna, and affords a handsome specimen of a Central African
dwelling-place. The inhabitants, whose want of energy is clearly seen
from the nature of the mounds, do not rely upon the strength of their
walls; and, to the disgrace of the sheikh of Bórnu, who receives tribute
from them, and places a governor over them, they likewise pay tribute to
the Tawárek. They belong in general to the Kánembú tribe; but many
Yédiná, or Búdduma, also are settled in the town. Their principal food
and only article of commerce is fish, which they catch in great
quantities in the lake, whose nearest creeks are, according to the
season, from two to three miles distant, and from which they are not
excluded, like the inhabitants of Ngórnu and other places, on account of
their friendly relations with the warlike pirates of the lake. As for
corn, they have a very scanty supply, and seem not to employ the
necessary labour to produce it, perhaps on account of the insecure state
of the country, which does not guarantee them the harvest they have
sown. Cotton they have none, and are obliged to barter their fish for
cotton strips or articles of dress. Indeed, gábagá or cotton strips, and
kúlgu, or white cotton shirts, are the best articles which a traveller,
who wants to procure fish for his desert journey by way of Bílma (where
dry fish is the only article in request), can take with him.
At the well on the north side of the town, which does not furnish very
good water, the horsemen belonging to our troop awaited the camels. Only
a few scattered hajilíj (_Balanites Ægyptiaca_) and stunted talha-trees
spread a scanty shade over the stubble-fields, which were far from
exhibiting a specimen of diligent cultivation; and I was very glad when,
having taken in a small supply of water, we were again in motion. We
soon left the scanty vestiges of cultivation behind us, and some bushes
of the siwák (_Capparis sodata_) began to enliven the country. At eleven
o’clock, having mounted a low range of sand-hills, we obtained a first
view of the Tsád, or rather of its inundations. The whole country now
began to be clothed with siwák. Having kept for about half an hour along
the elevated sandy level, we descended, and followed the lower road,
almost hidden by the thickest vegetation. This lower road, as well as
our whole track to Ngégimi, became entirely inundated at a later period
(in 1854), and will perhaps never more be trodden: in consequence, when
I came this way in 1855 we were obliged to make a circuit, keeping along
the sandy level nearer to the site of the ancient town of Wúdi.
Shortly afterwards we encamped, where the underwood had left a small
open space, at the eastern foot of a low hill. The prickly jungle was
here so dense that I searched a long time in vain for a bare spot to lie
down upon, when, to my great satisfaction, I found Bú-Zéd clearing me a
place with his axe. The swampy shore of the lake was only about four
hundred yards from our resting-place; but the spot was not well chosen
for an encampment, and it was found necessary to place several watches
during the night, notwithstanding which, a skin of mine, full of water,
disappeared from the stick upon which it was suspended, and the Arabs
tried to persuade me that a hungry hyæna had carried it off; but it was
most probable that one of themselves had been in want of this necessary
article of desert travelling.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, September 24th.]
We continued our march through the luxuriant prickly underwood, full of
the dung and footsteps of the elephant. Here and there the _capparis_
had been cut away, and large fireplaces were to be seen, where the roots
had been burnt to ashes. The tripods, of which several were lying about,
are used for filtering the water through these ashes, which takes from
them the salt particles which they contain. This water is afterwards
boiled, and thus the salt obtained. This salt is then taken to Kúkawa by
the Kánembú, whilst those who prepare it are Búdduma.
On our return from Kánem we met large numbers of this piratical set of
islanders; and on my home journey in 1855, I saw them in the full
activity of their labours. This salt, weak and insipid as it is, is at
least of a better quality than that which the people in Kótoko prepare
from neat-dung. In Míltu, on the Upper Shári, or Bá-busó, salt of a
tolerable quality is obtained from a peculiar species of grass growing
in the river. The Músgu, as we shall see, prepare this necessary article
(or at least something like it) from the ashes of the stalks of millet
and Indian corn.
After we had emerged from the underwood into the open country, we passed
a considerable salt-manufactory, consisting of at least twenty earthen
pots. Large triangular lumps of salt were lying about, which are shaped
in moulds made of clay. Several people were busy carrying mud from an
inlet of the lake which was close at hand, in order to make new moulds.
Keeping close along the border of the latter, and enjoying the fresh
breeze which had before been kept from us by the forest, we halted early
in the afternoon. A small Tébu caravan was also encamped here, no doubt
with the intention of passing the night; but they did not like the
neighbourhood of our friends, and, loading immediately, started off.
Our path now lay through fertile pasture-grounds, with a line of
underwood to our left. It was a fine cool morning. We passed a large
pool of fresh water, frequented by great numbers of waterfowl of various
species. Overweg, on his fine and tall, but rather heavy and unwieldy
charger, made an unsuccessful attempt to overtake a pair of kelára
(_Antilope Arabica?_ _Aigocerus ellipsiprymnus?_), who scampered
playfully away through the fine grassy plain. At nine o’clock we reached
the far-famed place Ngégimi, and were greatly disappointed at finding an
open, poor-looking village, consisting of detached conical huts, without
the least comfort, which, even in these light structures, may well be
attained to a certain degree. The hungry inhabitants would not receive
anything in exchange for a few fowls which we wanted to buy, except
grain, of which we ourselves, in these desolate regions, stood too much
in need to have given it away without an adequate substitute.
The situation of this place is very unfavourable, since the ruler of
Bórnu has restricted his real dominion within the border of the
komádugu, and the poor inhabitants are constantly in fear of being
molested by a ghazzia of the Tawárek. Indeed, two years later, this
village was plundered by these freebooting hordes; and some months
afterwards, in the year 1854, the remainder of the population, who had
not been carried away into captivity, were obliged, by the high floods
of the lagoon, to leave their old dwelling-place altogether, and build a
new village on the slope of the sand-hills, where I found it at the end
of May, 1855. As for Wúdi (a large place, once an occasional residence
of the Bórnu kings) and Lári, both mentioned by Denham and Clapperton,
they have long been deserted, Wúdi having been taken and ransacked by
the Tawárek in the year 1838, and Lári a little later. At present only a
few palm-trees (said to yield a kind of date far superior to the little
black Kánem dates) in the sand-hills about eight miles S.W. from
Ngégimi, indicate the site of the once celebrated Wúdi. Ngégimi was then
nominally under the control of Kashélla Hasen or Hassan.
Plunged into sad reflections on the fate of this once splendid empire of
Kánem, and the continued progress of the Berber race into the heart of
Sudán, I hung listlessly upon my horse, when, on leaving this
uncomfortable dwelling-place, we took our course over the unbroken
plain, once no doubt the bottom of the lake, and soon to become once
more a part of it. Sometimes it was dry and barren, at others clothed
with rich verdure, while on our left it was bordered by a range of sand-
hills, the natural limit of the lagoon. At a little before noon we came
to a deep inlet of the lake, spreading the freshest verdure all around
in this now desolate country. Having watered our horses, and taken in a
sufficient supply of this element for the night, we crossed the plain,
here not more than a thousand yards wide, and ascended a broad
promontory of the range of sand-hills, where we encamped.
It was a delightful spot, where the heart might have expanded in the
enjoyment of freedom. In front of us to the south-east, the swampy lands
of the lagoon, one immense rice-field (as it ought to be at least),
spread out to the borders of the horizon; but no “white water,” or open
sea, was to be seen, not even as much as connected channels, nothing but
one immense swampy flat, stretching out as far as the eye could reach.
To the south the green pasturages, along which we had come, extended far
beyond Ngégimi. It was a picture of one of the most fertile spots of the
earth doomed to desolation. But there was a feeble spark of hope in me
that it would not always be so; and I flattered myself that my labours
in these new regions might contribute to sow here the first germs of a
new life, a new activity.
My companions and friends did not seem to share in my feelings: for,
wholly intent upon mischief, they had been roving about, and having
fallen in with some Kánembú cattle-breeders, they had plundered them not
only of their milk, but also of the vessels which contained it; and in
the afternoon some respectable old men applied to Mr. Overweg and
myself, the only just people they were sure to find amongst this wild
band of lawless robbers, for redress, and we were happy, not only to
restore to them their vessels, but also to make them a few small
presents.
[Sidenote: Thursday, Sept. 25th.]
Descending from our lofty encampment, we continued our march in the
narrow grassy plain, between the sand-hills to the north, and another
blue inlet of the lake to the south, where the rich pasture-grounds
extended further into the lake.
It was about seven o’clock in the morning when we had the good fortune
to enjoy one of the most interesting scenes which these regions can
possibly afford. Far to our right was a whole herd of elephants,
arranged in regular array, like an army of rational beings, slowly
proceeding to the water. In front appeared the males, as was evident
from their size, in regular order; at a little distance followed the
young ones; in a third line were the females; and the whole were brought
up by five males of immense size. The latter (though we were at some
distance, and proceeding quietly along) took notice of us, and some were
seen throwing dust into the air; but we did not disturb them. There were
altogether ninety-six.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
HERD OF ELEPHANTS NEAR THE TSÁD.
Sepr. 25th. 1851.]
The fine fresh pasture-grounds some time afterwards gave way to a drier
plain, covered with a species of heath, and the country presented rather
a melancholy appearance. A little before ten o’clock we came to a large
herd of cattle or “berí,” collected round a small hamlet or dawar,
consisting of light, high-topped huts of corn-stalks, fastened together
by three rings of straw, and lightly plastered with a little cow-dung.
But although we obtained some milk, some of our friends, not content
with filling their stomachs, laid hold of a fine pony and carried it
off, under the pretext that it belonged to the Búdduma, who, as they
asserted, were the enemies of the sheikh; and when we had started again,
and encountered a small caravan of oxen laden with dates, not only were
all the skins containing the dates taken, but another ruffian laid hold
of one of the beasts of burden and dragged it away with him,
notwithstanding the lamentations of its owner. And yet the people who
were thus treated were subjects of the king of Bórnu, and the Welád
Slimán were his professed friends and hirelings.
Fine fresh pasture-grounds, and melancholy tracts clothed with nothing
but heath, succeeded each other, whilst not a single tree broke the
monotony of the level country. At length we encamped near a deserted
village of cattle-breeders, consisting of about twenty small conical
huts, built in the form of a large circle. We had scarcely begun to make
ourselves comfortable, when a noisy quarrel arose about the dates so
unjustly taken from their owners, and some of the Arabs concerned in the
dispute came to my tent in order to have their claims settled, when the
whole particulars of the shameless robberies committed in the course of
the day, came under my notice, and especially that of the horse. But
this was a delicate subject, and one that excited the angry passions of
those concerned—so much so that one of them, named Ibrahím, came running
with his loaded gun straight into my tent, threatening to blow out the
brains of any body who spoke of injustice or robbery. As for Bakhér, and
ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, who were the actual possessors of the horse, they were
about to leave by themselves.
The violent proceedings of our protectors had spread such terror
throughout these almost desolate regions, that in the evening, solely
from fear, two oxen and a quantity of milk were sent from a neighbouring
berí as presents. The night was fresh, but not cold, and a very heavy
dew fell.
[Sidenote: Friday, Sept. 26th.]
Reached about noon the first large cluster of huts of the village of
Berí, after having followed a very numerous and fine herd of cattle (one
of the finest I saw in the interior of the continent) for awhile, with
the urgent desire of obtaining a drink of fresh milk, and then crossed a
tolerably deep inlet of the lagoon. Here we encamped on a terribly hot
sandy spot, without any shade, some two hundred yards from the village,
which stretches in a long line from north to south.
Berí is a place of importance, at least since the date of the greatest
splendour of the Bórnu kingdom, and is frequently mentioned in the
history of the great king Edrís Alawóma, written during his lifetime by
his chief imám Ahmed. Its situation is such as to render it of great
importance as a station; for here the army proceeding from Bórnu to the
interior of Kánem leaves the shore of the lagoon, and has generally to
make a long stay, in order to regain strength for the ensuing march, and
to supply itself with fresh provisions. Till a few years previously, a
Bórnu governor of the name of Shitíma Aba had been residing here; but he
had given up the place, and preferred living in the capital.
But here I must add, that there are two places called Berí, distant from
each other a few miles, the one where we were encamped being called
Berí-kurá, the Great Berí, the other with the surname “futé” (the
western), from its more westerly situation; but it is at present greatly
reduced, and we had left it unobserved on one side. The greater part of
the inhabitants of Berí are Kánembú, and belong to the clan of the
Sugúrti, a large division of that tribe, which, however, in the last
struggle of the old dynasty, suffered greatly. Besides these, a good
many Búdduma are settled here.
I was very glad when, after another severe quarrel, the young horse was
at length given up by the robbers, as likewise the beast of burden. One
of the oxen sent yesterday as a present was slaughtered to-day, and
divided amongst the whole band. As for myself, I made merry on a little
fresh milk; for though the people are, and appear to have been from
their birth (for “berí” means cattle-herd), in possession of numerous
herds of cattle, nevertheless, in the village, as is often the case,
there is very little milk—only just as much as is required for the use
of the owners themselves—the cattle being at a great distance. Very
little can be obtained here, and corn is scarcely cultivated, owing to
the insecure and desperate state of the country. The inhabitants are in
continual intercourse with the Yédiná, that section of the Kótoko who
inhabit the islands in the lake, and who are generally called Búdduma.
But of course the distance of their village from the lagoon varies
considerably; and the nearest branch or inlet at present was that which
we had crossed in the morning, and from which the inhabitants supplied
themselves with water. The want of firewood is greatly felt; scarcely a
single tree is to be met with in the neighbourhood.[7]
[Sidenote: Saturday, Sept. 27th.]
We now left the shores of the lake, ascending a little, but had a
difficult march this morning in order to avoid the many small boggy
inlets and natron-lagoons which are formed by the lake, and wind along
through the sand-hills. With regard to these natron-lakes, which, after
the report of Major Denham, have led to many erroneous conjectures
respecting lake Tsád, I have to observe that the natron or soda is not
originally contained in the water, but in the ground, and that all the
water of lake Tsád is fresh; but when a small quantity of water, after
the lake has retired from the highest point of its inundation, remains
in a basin the soil of which is filled with soda, the water of course
becomes impregnated with this quality. The consequence is, that there
are many basins round lake Tsád which, according to the season, are
either fresh or brackish; for the soda contained in the ground has very
little effect so long as the basin is deep, and does not begin to make
itself felt till the water becomes shallow. Of this same character seems
to be Lake Bóro in Kánem, which I shall mention hereafter. I here remind
the reader of what I have stated above with regard to the importance of
the natron-trade between Bórnu and Núpe or Nýffi.
Having no guide—for who would willingly trust himself in the hands of
such lawless robbers as our companions?—we found it rather difficult
work to get out of this labyrinth of lagoons; and after a few miles we
came to a narrow but very boggy inlet, which it was thought necessary to
cross.
Riding a lively horse, an excellent “sayár,” I was rather in advance,
and had only three horsemen in front of me; on coming to the bog, the
nature of which it was easy to perceive, we rode one after the
other,—Khálef-Allah being in front of me. The first horseman went in,
made a few steps, and then came down; but he got his horse upon his legs
again, went on, and again sunk into the bog, but being near the firm
ground, got over tolerably well. As soon as those who were before me saw
this they stopped their horses short, and wanted to return, pressing my
horse upon his side, who, being annoyed by the morass, made a
vacillating movement forward, and fell upon his knees; upon being raised
he made some wild exertions to get through, but after two or three
ineffectual attempts, he again fell on his side, and I under him. The
morass here was about four feet deep; and I received several smart blows
from the forelegs of my horse, upon the head and shoulders, before I was
fortunate enough to extricate myself from this interesting situation.
Being clad in a white bernús over a Nýffi tobe, with a pair of pistols
in my belt, my appearance may be easily conceived when, after a great
deal of labour, I succeeded in reaching firm ground. I had still the
difficult task of extricating my horse, which, after wild and desperate
exertions, lay motionless in the bog. I had on this occasion a good
specimen of the assistance we were likely to receive from our companions
in cases of difficulty; for they were looking silently on without
affording me any aid. Mr. Overweg was some distance behind, and, when he
came up, was enabled to supply me with dry clothing.
The spot would have been quite interesting but for this accident, as
there was here, favoured by the rich soil and this very morass, a
beautiful plantation of red ngáberi, or sorghum, of that peculiar kind
called mósogá, or rather, másakwá, in the highest state of exuberance,
and just beginning to ripen; it was the finest specimen I saw on my
whole journey. Fortunately the sun was moderately warm, as I began to
feel very chilly after my involuntary bath. We continued our march at
first along another hollow containing fresh water, and then, ascending a
little, came upon a sandy level well clothed with herbage and trees of
the mimosa kind. Here we seemed to be entirely out of reach of the lake;
and great was our astonishment when a little after nine o’clock we came
close upon another fine sheet of fresh, blue water. It was a great
satisfaction to me, in the state I was in, that we encamped at so early
an hour on its northern border, where some serrák afforded a tolerable
shade. I was busy drying my clothes, arms, saddlecloths, and journals,
when there appeared certain indications of an approaching storm; and in
order to avoid being wetted twice in the same day, I got my tent
pitched. After a furious gale the rain poured down, and about a dozen of
my companions took refuge in my small, frail dwelling; but all were not
so fortunate as to escape a wetting, for the rain, being very heavy,
came in at the door. The storm lasted more than an hour; and everything,
including horses and camels, being thoroughly soaked, it was decided to
remain here for the night.
[Sidenote: Sunday, Sept. 28th.]
For some reason or another, but chiefly in order to slaughter the other
ox, divide it, and cut it up into “gedíd,” we remained here the whole
morning; and the sun had long passed into zawál (past noon) when we
started through the sandy and slightly undulating country full of
herbage, principally of the plant called “nesí,” besides bu-rékkeba or
_Avena Forskalii_, the bur-feathered prickle _Pennisetum distichum_, and
various kinds of mimosa, chiefly consisting of the talha and úm el barka
(_Mimosa Nilotica_). Our companions found several ostrich-eggs, and met
a large troop of gazelles. The country then became more thickly wooded,
and, where we encamped for the night, presented a very interesting
character; but the danger from wild beasts was considerable, and the
roar of a lion was heard throughout the greater part of the night.
[Sidenote: Monday, Sept. 29th.]
Started early: the character of the country continued the same as
yesterday, and presented beautiful specimens of the mimosa, here
breaking down from age, at another place interwoven with creepers, one
species of which produces the red juicy fruit called “fito” by the
Kanúri, and has been mentioned by me before. It was nearly eight o’clock
when, proceeding in groups, two of our horsemen, on passing near a very
large and thick gherret, suddenly halted, and with loud cries hastened
back to us. We approached the spot, and saw a very large snake hanging
in a threatening attitude from the branches of the tree: on seeing us it
tried to hide itself; but after firing several balls, it fell down, and
we cut off its head. It measured 18 feet 7 inches in length, and at the
thickest part 5 inches in diameter, and was of a beautifully variegated
colour. Two natives, who had attached themselves to our troop the day
before, cut it open and took out the fat, which they said was excellent.
The ride was truly interesting; but by degrees it became too much for
me, and after seven hours’ march I was so utterly exhausted as to be
obliged to halt, and lie down. Most of the Arabs remained with us;
others, with ʿAli ben ʿAisa, went on to the well. When we pursued our
march in the afternoon, the country for the first three hours was more
level, but then became very hilly; and at five o’clock we ascended a
considerable elevation to our left, the highest point in the whole
country, but perhaps not more than 600 or 700 feet above the level of
the Tsád. From here we crossed two very pretty valleys, or dells,
especially the second one, where there were very curious hilly
projections of a calcareous stone. But these valleys were very poor
indeed, in comparison with the valley or hénderi Fóyo, situated at some
distance from the well where we encamped for the night; for its bottom
presented one uninterrupted mass of vegetation, impenetrable in many
spots. Here the botanist might be sure to find some new species,
although the principal trees were the kúrna (_Cornus_), serrákh, úm el
barka, or _Mimosa Nilotica_, hajilíj, or _Balanites_, and the talha, _M.
ferruginea_, but all interwoven with creepers, and offering the most
delightful shade.
These valleys, which afford the only watering-places, must of course be
very dangerous during the night, on account of the wild beasts,
principally lions, of which there are great numbers hereabouts. Here our
companions received a messenger from Ghét, the young chief of the Welád
Slimán.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, Sept. 30th.]
We remained in the forenoon and during the heat of the day in our
encampment. While stretched out in the shade of a fine mimosa, I
obtained some valuable information regarding the various tribes dwelling
in Kánem, and the districts of their settlements. But it will be better,
instead of inserting it here, to collect all the information I received
at different times into one general account, which shall be given in the
Appendix.