of inferior quality, and I do not think he kept it very long after he
had left the assemblage of these civilized people.
As the price of the benevolent reception which the prince of Démmo had
experienced, he, as is generally the case in these distracted
communities, betrayed the interests of his countrymen, promising that he
would lead the army to a large walled town (so, at least, he was
understood to say), where they were to find plenty of booty and spoil.
Accordingly an expedition on a large scale, which was to be led by the
vizier in person, was fixed for the next day.
[Sidenote: Friday, January 2nd.]
Having remained quiet for some hours in the morning, probably to make
the neighbouring chieftains believe that we had no intention of moving,
we suddenly set out, with almost the whole of the cavalry and a portion
of the Kánembú spearmen, led on by our new ally the chief of Démmo, who,
mounted on a little pony, clad in his new black garment, presented a
very awkward and ridiculous appearance.
The first village which we reached, after about an hour’s march through
a clear forest, was quite deserted; and it was but natural that all the
people around should be upon their guard. The landscape was exceedingly
beautiful, richly irrigated and finely wooded, while, to our great
astonishment, the ground was so carefully cultivated that even manure
had been put upon the fields in a regular manner, being spread over the
ground to a great extent—the first example of such careful tillage that
I had as yet observed in Central Africa, both among Mohammedans and
pagans. The inhabitants had had so much leisure to make their escape,
that they had left very little behind to satisfy the greediness of the
enemy; and we therefore continued our march without delay, in a north-
easterly direction. This whole fertile district bears the name of
Wúliya; but I did not learn the peculiar name of this village.
After a march of about four miles, we crossed another watercourse, at
present only from ten to fifteen inches deep, and surrounded by
beautiful pasture-grounds, which during part of the year are inundated,
and must then present the appearance of an extensive lake. This fresh
green basin was adorned all around by luxuriant fig and “karáge” trees,
and slender detached dúm-palms towered picturesquely above the green
foliage, but no deléb-palms were to be seen. Then followed another
village, likewise deserted by its unfortunate inhabitants, and then
again open meadow-lands, intersected by a narrow channel-like
watercourse, in a direction from S.W. to N.E.
The watercourse was from sixty to seventy yards broad, and inclosed so
regularly between its banks, which were about ten feet high, that it had
quite the appearance of an artificial canal,—a peculiarity which in the
course of time I frequently observed, not only here, but also in the
similar watercourses along the Niger. At the point where we crossed it,
the sheet of water was entirely broken by a small sandbank, so that we
went over without wetting our feet. However, I conjectured that this was
an artificial dyke thrown up by the persecuted natives, in order to keep
open an easy connection with the river, on which alone their safety
depended. Without any delay the expedition pushed on, in the hope of
overtaking the fugitives before they had crossed the river; for here we
were quite close to the western shore of the river of Logón, which is
generally, but erroneously, called Shári, while this name, which belongs
to the language of the Kótokó, and means “river” in general, applies
more properly to the larger eastern branch below Klésem, which is
inhabited by Kótokó, and to the united stream lower down below the
junction of the two branches. In this place the river, or “éré,” is
called Serbéwuel, I think, in the Músgu language; higher up, where we
shall make its acquaintance in the course of our further researches, it
is called Bá-Gun and Bá-Bay, “bá” being the general name for river in
the language of Bagírmi and the native tribes of the Sóm-ray, as well as
in the language of the Manding or Mandingoes.
After a short time we stood on the banks of the stream. It was a
considerable river even at the present moment, although it was greatly
below its highest level, and probably represented the mean depth of the
whole year. At present it was about four hundred yards wide, and so deep
that six Shúwa horsemen, who, in their eager desire for spoil, had
ventured to enter it, were carried away by the stream, and fell an easy
prey to about a dozen courageous pagans, who, in a couple of canoes,
were gliding up and down the river to see what they could lay their
hands upon. They felt that we were unable to follow them without canoes,
although for any active body of men it would have been an easy affair to
construct a few rafts for crossing over, there being a plentiful supply
of timber.
The banks of the river on this side were at present about twenty-five
feet high. The opposite shore was not so steep, and from its rich
vegetation had a very inviting appearance; but I was glad, for the sake
of the poor natives, that we were unable to reach it, and I think even
our friend the Háj Beshír looked at this interesting landscape rather
with a degree of scientific interest than with anger and disappointment.
Unfortunately, on this occasion I had not taken my telescope with me,
but I was so fortunate as still to get a sight of this river a little
lower down.
Having stood here for a few minutes on the steep bank, looking down into
the stream, which rolled unceasingly along, cutting off our further
progress, we turned our horses’ heads in the direction from which we had
come, while our friends endeavoured to soothe their disappointment by
saying, that if the pagans had escaped from their hands, they would
certainly not fail to fall into the power of their enemies, viz. the
pagans who lived on the other side of the river under the protection of
Bagírmi.
We thus turned our backs upon the river, my European companion and I
greatly satisfied with our day’s work, which had afforded us a sight of
this fine stream, but our companions, in sullen silence and
disappointment, on account of the expected spoil having escaped from
their hands. Indeed, where they had expected to find that “El Dorado,”
that walled town full of male and female slaves, I never succeeded in
ascertaining. The whole day’s spoil was limited to a handful of
slaves—unfortunate creatures whom sickness or ill-advised courage
prevented from leaving their native villages,—besides a couple of
cattle, a few goats, fowls, and a little corn, but principally
groundnuts, of which large quantities were carried off by the hungry
Kánembú spearmen.
The whole army was in such a mood as to be glad to find any object on
which to vent its anger; and such a one soon presented itself, for when
we again reached that channel-like watercourse which I have mentioned
above, and were watering our horses, four natives were seen, who,
evidently confiding in their courage and their skill in swimming, had
here taken refuge in the deepest part of the water, in order to give
information to their countrymen of the retreat of the enemy. As soon as
our friends caught sight of this little troop of heroes, they determined
to sacrifice them to their vengeance. With this view, the whole of the
cavalry arranged themselves in close lines on each side of the water.
But the task was not so easy as it appeared at first; and all the firing
of the bad marksmen was in vain, the Músgu diving with remarkable
agility. When the vizier saw that in this way these heroes could not be
overpowered, he ordered some Kánembú to enter the water; and a very
singular kind of combat arose, the like of which I had never seen
before, and which required an immense deal of energy, for, while these
people had to sustain themselves above the water with the help of their
feet, they had at the same time to jump up, throw the spear, and parry
the thrusts of their adversaries. The poor Músgu people, on their side,
were not only fighting for their lives, but even, as it were, for their
national honour. They were of large and muscular frame, single-handed
far superior to the Kánembú; but at length, after a protracted struggle,
the superior numbers of the Kánembú got the upper hand, and the corpses
of three of the Músgu were seen swimming on the surface of the water.
But the fourth and last appeared to be invincible, and the Kánembú, who
had lost two of their companions, gave him up in despair.
After this inglorious victory we pursued our march homewards, keeping a
little more to the north than when we came. This part of the country
exhibited the same fertile and pleasant character as that we had seen
before. It was densely inhabited and well cultivated, even tobacco being
grown to a great extent. As for the villages themselves, they afforded
the same appearance of comfort and cheerfulness which we had observed in
the others. But all these abodes of human happiness were destroyed by
fire.
After having accomplished these great deeds, we returned to our
encampment. Here we remained during the two following days, while the
most important business was transacted. This was the partition of the
slaves who had been taken during the expedition; and the proceeding was
accompanied by the most heartrending scenes, caused by the number of
young children, and even infants, who were to be distributed, many of
these poor creatures being mercilessly torn away from their mothers,
never to see them again. There were scarcely any full-grown men.
More interesting to me than this horrible affair was the sending of a
messenger to Kúkawa; and it was doubly so on account of the roundabout
way which this man had to pursue, the track by which we had come being
at present greatly infested by the desperate pagans, who very recently
had massacred a whole troop of horse and foot who had come from Kúkawa,
with the exception of one, who had succeeded in making his escape. The
messengers, therefore, who were now sent, were obliged to take the road
leading past the villages of the Fúlbe, going from Démmo to Káfta, the
place mentioned in the preceding volume, and from thence to Bógo, whence
they were to follow the general track, which I have described on a
former occasion. An escort of fifteen Kanúri and two Fúlbe accompanied
the two messengers, as their first day’s march was very dangerous.
For the last few days there had been a great talk of an expedition, on a
large scale, against the Túburi, whither it was said we were to transfer
the whole encampment; and I and my companion already anticipated a great
deal of delight, as the isolated rocky mount which we had seen on the
day of our arrival seemed to be well worthy of notice. But, as I have
already stated, the Bórnu people were greatly afraid of this place, the
real reason probably being, that they apprehended the pagans might
retire upon the top of the mountain, and, having abundance of water in
the neighbourhood, offer a successful resistance, although we were told
that, on a former occasion, a single kashélla, ʿAlí Fugomámi, had
extended his expedition as far as that place.
The Fúlbe, by whom this free pagan community was regarded with great
hatred, urged the expedition with the greatest energy; but the cunning
vizier pretended afterwards, in a conversation which he had with Overweg
and me, that it was purposely, from motives of policy, that he did not
accede to this scheme, as he did not want to exterminate this tribe,
being unwilling to pull down with his own hands this last barrier to the
restless spirit of conquest which the Fúlbe or Felláta displayed. The
usurper ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, evidently from a motive of ambition, in order to
be enabled to say that he had penetrated further than his late rival the
vizier, whom he had successfully crushed, in the beginning of the rainy
season of 1854 pushed on into the very country of the Túburi, and thus
enabled Dr. Vogel to lay down that most interesting point by
astronomical observation, although the great lake which my friend
thought to find there was apparently nothing but a widening of that
stagnant watercourse which forms the north-eastern branch of the Bénuwé,
namely the máyo Kébbi, and was laid down by me in the map of Central
Africa, which I sent home from Kúkawa.
[Sidenote: January 5th, 1852.]
It was at a very early hour on Monday morning, a little after midnight,
when the guide of the expedition came to my tent, and, while I was just
dreaming of the rocky mountain of the Túburi, whispered in my ear that a
distant expedition was to be undertaken that very day, but not into the
country of the Túburi, and that the baggage was to remain here. Although
I should rather have preferred visiting the latter tract, situated at
the north-eastern branch of the basin of the Niger, I nevertheless was
determined not to let any opportunity pass by of extending my
geographical knowledge as much as possible, and therefore ordered my
horse to be saddled. Mr. Overweg meanwhile, when he heard that the
vizier was not to lead the expedition in person, but that the young Bú-
Bakr, son of the sheikh, was to take the command, remained behind; and
as I had no mounted servant, and could not expect that a man on foot
would accompany me to a great distance, I was obliged to go quite alone.
Meanwhile the bugles of Bú-Bakr called the warriors together with a
soft, subdued sound, in order not to allow treachery to spread the news
of their plan beforehand. Having passed with some difficulty the narrow
gate of the stockade, the expeditionary army formed outside, when we
pushed on in a north-easterly direction. But nature has provided so well
for the defence of these poor pagans, that they are not easily taken by
surprise.
We succeeded, with the dawn of day, in passing the first broad sheet of
water of the wide “ngáljam” of Wúliya, but found great difficulty in
passing another water with a deep, argillaceous soil of so boggy a
nature that several of the horses fell, even those whose riders had
dismounted; and I felt not a little anxiety on account of my own
restless and fiery horse, which was snorting like a hippopotamus. At
length we left also this morass behind us, and indulged in the hope of
having overcome every difficulty, when suddenly we had before us another
and far deeper water, which delayed us for a long time. But bad as was
our situation whilst we were thus sticking fast in the mud, I could
scarcely help laughing heartily, as this very delay enabled the poor
pagans to escape with their wives and property to a place of safety. As
for most of the horses, the water went over their backs, while I on my
stately charger had the water three inches above my knee. A courageous
enemy, led on by a clever commander, might at this moment have easily
captured most of the horses, and put all the host to flight.
At length, after two hours’ exertion, we emerged from this broad sheet
of water, which, when full, must present the appearance of an extensive
central lake three or four miles in breadth, and many more in length,
and now entered upon green pasture-ground, which, however, during the
highest state of the inundation is itself under water. Here the army
divided into three bodies, and pushed on vigorously, although a great
many had retraced their steps upon seeing the deep water.
Proceeding in this way, we reached the first hamlets, and here formed a
regular line of battle, while the greater part of the army rushed on in
advance, at the sound of the drum and the horns of the kashéllas, to see
if there was anything left for them; but all the inhabitants had made
their escape. Another delay occurred owing to one of the followers of
Bú-Bakr falling into a ditch or hollow twelve feet in depth and the same
in breadth, from which he was extricated with some difficulty, while the
horse died on the spot. But there was plenty of leisure, the pagans
having long ago had sufficient time to make their escape beyond the
river. If those simple people had followed the same stratagem which the
Bórnu people employ against the Tawárek, digging a quantity of holes and
covering them over with bushes, they might have done a great deal of
mischief to the cavalry.
This whole tract of country still belongs to the extensive district of
Wúliya; but the villages have separate names, which, owing to the
unfortunate circumstances under which I visited the country, I was not
able to learn. Having passed a considerable village, we reached, a
little before eleven o’clock, the furthermost line which the waters of
the river Serbéwuel attain during its highest state of inundation, while
when they recede they leave extensive ponds of stagnant water behind,
which nourish a rich supply of the most succulent herbage. The shore was
here about eight feet high, while at the other point, where we had
visited the river a few days previously, it was not so well marked. Of
course, where the inner shore consists of steeper banks, so that the
river does not rise over the higher level to a considerable height, the
outward shore cannot be marked so distinctly.
About thirteen hundred yards beyond this grassy outward shore we reached
the inner bank of the river, which consisted of sand, and was here only
ten feet high. The river at present was confined to this bank, running
at this spot from S. 25° E.; but a little lower down it changed its
direction, running W. by N. Higher up, the opposite shore was richly
overgrown with trees, among which deléb- and dúm-palms were conspicuous;
but no villages were to be seen, although a place named Kár is said to
lie on the eastern shore. The reason we had directed our march to this
point seemed to be, that the river is here rather broad, being about
eight hundred yards across, and forming a large sandbank, so that my
friends had entertained the hope that they would be enabled to ford it,
which in some years, when the rains have not been very considerable, may
be possible at this season, and even this year might probably be
effected in two months’ time. But at present this was not the case, and
the rapacious Shúwa Arabs were hurrying about in despair, to and fro,
between the island and the western shore.
I too took the direction of the island, as the most interesting point,
although I became aware that it was not possible to penetrate further
on. The first branch of the river on this side of the island, which was
the broader of the two, was not more than from eighteen to nineteen
inches deep, and could not but become dry in a short time, when the
island, or rather sandbank, should form the knee of the bend of the
river; but the eastern branch, though apparently only about 120 or 130
yards broad, seemed to be of considerable depth, running along with a
strong current, and my old friend Abú Dáúd, one of the principal Shúwa
chiefs, whom I encountered at the southern point of the sandbank, with a
sad countenance, indicated the whole nature of this stream with the
laconic and significant expression, “yákul” (it eats),—that is to say,
it is not fordable.
It would have been the more dangerous to attempt to force the passage,
as the opposite shore, which was so near, and only four feet high, was
occupied by a number of stalwart pagans, who mocked at our inability to
cross the river, and seemed to be quite ready to receive in a
satisfactory manner anybody who should make the attempt. It would have
been easy to have blown away these people, and thus to clear the place
of descent; but for such an undertaking my friends had not sufficient
courage or energy. I did not see a single Kanúri on the island, but only
Shúwa, who always expose themselves to the greatest risk, and push on
the furthest. The pagans had not only occupied the opposite bank, but
even kept afloat four canoes at some distance above the island, in order
to run down, with the assistance of the current, any one who should dare
to cross the river. Three of these canoes were small; but the fourth was
of a larger size, and manned by ten Músgu.
These canoes were the only craft visible on the river, and probably
constituted the whole naval force of these pagans. Of course in a
country politically rent into so many petty principalities, where every
little community, as in ancient times in Latium and Greece, forms a
separate little state in opposition to its neighbours, no considerable
intercourse is possible, and those natural highroads with which nature
has provided these countries, and the immense field therefore which is
open in these regions to human industry and activity, must remain
unproductive under such circumstances; but it will be turned to account
as soon as the restless spirit of the European shall bring these
countries within the sphere of his activity. This period must come.
Indeed I am persuaded that in less than fifty years European boats will
keep up a regular annual intercourse between the great basin of the Tsád
and the Bay of Biyáfra.
An almost uninterrupted communication has been opened by Nature herself;
for, from the mouth of the Kwára to the confluence of the river Bénuwé
with the máyo Kébbi, there is a natural passage navigable without
further obstruction for boats of about four feet in depth, and the máyo
Kébbi itself, in its present shallow state, seems to be navigable for
canoes, or flat-bottomed boats like those of the natives, which I have
no doubt may, during the highest state of the inundation, go as far as
Dáwa in the Túburi country, where Dr. Vogel was struck by that large
sheet of water which to him seemed to be an independent central lake,
but which is in reality nothing but a widening of the upper part of the
máyo Kébbi.
It is very probable that from this place there may be some other shallow
watercourse, proceeding to join the large ngáljam of Démmo, so that
there would exist a real bifurcation between the basin of the Niger and
that of the Tsád. But even if this should not be the case, the breadth
of the water-parting between these two basins at the utmost cannot
exceed twenty miles, consisting of an entirely level flat, and probably
of alluvial soil, while the granitic region attached to that isolated
rocky mountain which I have mentioned above may, most probably, be
turned without difficulty. The level of the Tsád and that of the river
Bénuwé near Géwe, where it is joined by the máyo Kébbi, seem to be
almost identical; at least, according to all appearance, the Bénuwé at
the place mentioned is not more than 850 or 900 feet above the level of
the sea. All this bounty of nature will, I trust, one day be turned to
account, though many changes must take place in this country before a
regular and peaceful intercourse can be established. The very scenes
which I witnessed are an unmistakable proof of the misery into which
these regions are plunged.
But, as I have carried away the reader’s attention from the thread of
the narrative, so I myself had almost forgotten where I was, and it
required an admonition from my friend Abú Dáúd to induce me to look
after my own safety; for already the greater part of the Shúwa had
returned to the western shore, and threatened to leave us alone, and it
did not seem very agreeable to be taken in the rear by the pagans, and
perhaps even to be cut off by the boats. I therefore returned to the
western shore, where the army was scattered about, not knowing what to
do, being rather disinclined to retrace their steps without having
enriched themselves with booty of some kind.