party of people arrived from a village which we had passed on our road,
in order to obtain some medicines; and the way in which they
acknowledged my trouble was so delicate and becoming, that I could not
decline it, though in general I did not accept any remuneration for my
cures. On taking leave they tied a fat sheep, which they had brought
with them, to the branches of the tree under which we were reclining,
merely informing my servants that it was a present for me.
Notwithstanding the great heat during the mid-day hours, I thought it
prudent to pursue my journey without long delay; for all my informants
agreed in representing the tract before us as an extensive wilderness,
entirely destitute of water. There were, however, evident traces that
during the rainy season this dry forest is occasionally changed into an
extensive swamp, and frequented by herds of giraffes and other wild
beasts. At first the forest was clear; but as we proceeded it became
enlivened and interwoven by a profusion of creeping plants called
“sellʿa” by the Arab inhabitants of this country, but “gheláf” in the
dialect of the western Arabs. In many spots a peculiar kind of reed was
seen, called “hál” by the Shúwa, who make from it writing-pens; and here
and there fresh tufts of grass, called forth by the productive power of
the rains, were springing up. It is this young succulent herbage which
especially attracts the rhinoceros. Desolate as this wilderness was at
present, there were evident signs that at times it becomes the scene of
a considerable degree of human industry; and besides sesamum, even
fields of indigo were seen.
After a march of about thirteen miles, we reached a hamlet which was
evidently identical with the village Márga, with regard to which our
informants had not been sure whether we should find inhabitants there or
not. We entered it; but not a single human being was to be seen, it was
lifeless, deserted, and half in ruins. Nevertheless there were some
houses which evidently contained property, though, the doors not being
sufficiently secured, its safety was left to the honesty of the passers-
by.
Here the path divided, and it was apparent that, in order to prosecute
my journey by way of Jógodé, we must pursue the northern one; but
unluckily, while no recent traces were to be seen along this path, the
southerly track seemed to be well-trodden, and my poor servants, who
before had silently though sullenly followed me, broke out into the most
mournful lamentations when they saw that I wanted to take the path which
showed no signs of intercourse, saying that I was going to destroy their
lives as well as my own in this desolate wilderness. At length, after
having in vain remonstrated with them, telling them that they were
frustrating my projects, I allowed myself to be overruled by their
piteous supplications, although with a sad foreboding, and pursued the
southerly track.
The sun was just setting when we reached another hamlet, consisting of
large decent-looking huts, and filling us with almost confident hope
that we might there find comfortable quarters; but we soon convinced
ourselves that here also not a human being was left behind. Only a group
of five antelopes (_oryx_), called here “tétel,” with their erect horns,
were fearlessly standing at a little distance, and staring at us. It was
the first time I had seen this handsome animal in a wild state, though I
afterwards found it to be very frequent in this country, and even fell
in with it along the komádugu of Bórnu.
Having convinced ourselves that the well was dry, and not thinking
quarters in a desolate village very safe in such a country, we pursued
our march, entering again a dense forest where a great deal of rain
seemed to have fallen, so that I was even enabled to water the horse,
although the danger from wild beasts could not but be greatly increased
by the presence of the aqueous element. After a march of two miles more,
the evening being very dark, we thought it more prudent to halt for the
night; we therefore chose a small place free from wood, put our luggage,
camel, horse, and sheep in the middle, and assigned to each of ourselves
one of the corners, where we were to keep up a fire. We had, however,
scarcely begun to look around the neighbourhood for dry firewood, when
the tumultuous cries of wild beasts broke forth from different quarters
of the dense forest; and I was obliged to fire some shots before we were
able to light a moderate fire, when, throwing the firebrands before us
as we proceeded, we were enabled to collect a tolerable quantity of dry
wood. However, it was with some difficulty that I prevailed upon my
young and inexperienced companions to make up their minds to keep
alternate watches during the night, and keep up the fires, more
especially as, on account of a north-east wind which sprung up about
midnight, the wood was rapidly consumed.
I had prudently provided myself with a number of cartridges, when I was
suddenly startled by the rushing in of two hyænas, which seemed to have
silently approached under cover of the wood, and almost succeeded in
carrying off our sheep. But one of them paid with its life for its
audacity; and now throwing firebrands, then firing a shot, we succeeded
in keeping the wild beasts at a respectful distance during the remainder
of our restless halt here.
Early in the morning we arose in order to pursue our march, when, on
removing our luggage, we found five scorpions under our leather bags;
they had, most probably, been attracted by the heat of our fires, as in
general this animal is not so frequent after the ground has been wetted
by the rains. As we proceeded, the forest became clearer, and my Shúwa
lad called my attention to the curious circumstance that the “díb,”
which is very frequent in these regions, always deposits its excrements
on the clean white spot of an ant-hill. The rain appeared to have been
very considerable; and about a mile further on we passed a good sized
pond, and a little further another of still larger size, producing all
around a profusion of grass of the richest verdure. The soil here
consisted of hard clay, and the vegetation was varied; but gradually the
forest was succeeded by extensive cultivation, which announced our
approach to a considerable place.
I had been well aware myself that we had left the road to Jógodé a long
distance on our right; but I was greatly annoyed when I heard from the
people who met us on the path that this village was Kókoroché, the very
place which we had passed on our road from Mélé to Búgomán. Convinced,
therefore, that I should be obliged to touch once more at the former
village, I had a sad foreboding that I should meet with some unpleasant
occurrence, and that it might not be my destiny to leave this country as
yet. However, I made up my mind, and prepared myself for whatever might
happen.
The country assumed a more genial aspect; and we reached a very
extensive sheet of water, apparently of considerable depth, and adorned
all around by fine spreading trees. Numbers of women were proceeding
from the neighbouring village to fetch water. Having provided ourselves
with a supply, we proceeded onwards, and halted in the shade of a fine
“hájilíj,” in sight of the village. Numbers of cattle and asses were
seen all around, and testified to the prosperity of the inhabitants.
Kókoroché is an important place in the economy of this country; for it
is this place, together with Búgomán, which furnishes the capital with
the greatest supply of millet.
Determined to put a bold face upon matters, I ordered my people to
slaughter the sheep, and made myself as comfortable as possible,
spreading my carpet, damaged as it was by the ants in Bákadá, upon the
ground, and assuming the appearance of being quite at my ease. At that
time I was not aware that in this country none but the sultan and a few
high dignitaries were allowed to sit on a carpet. While the meat was
cooking on the fire, and holding out the promise of some unwonted
luxury, I received a visit from the father-in-law of Gréma ʿAbdú, my
host in Mústafají; and his appearance and hints confirmed my
unfavourable anticipations. I related to him what had happened to me
since I left him,—that the governor of Búgomán had refused to receive me
into his town, and that I had remained eighteen days in Bákadá, waiting
in vain for an order to be allowed to enter the capital. I showed him my
carpet, and told him how it had been half devoured by the ants, and how
we had suffered from want of sufficient food and shelter in the
beginning of the rainy season. He was very sorry that I had not been
treated with more regard; but he expressed his opinion that the
lieutenant-governor would not allow me to leave the country in such a
way.
Unfortunately this man was not open enough to confess to me that
messengers from the capital had already arrived; neither did the
bíllama, or rather “gollennánge” or “gar,” as he is here called—the head
man of the village, who arrived with a numerous host of people just as I
was about to start—give me any hint about it. Whether he came with the
intention of keeping me back, and was afraid of executing his design, I
do not know. In any case it would have been far more agreeable to me, if
my fate had been decided here instead of at Mélé. As it was, he sent one
of his people with me to show me the track to the river; and I started
about an hour after noon.
Considerable showers, which had fallen here seven days previously, had
changed the dry character of the country, and revived its luxuriant
nature. The whole district presented the cheerful aspect of spring.
Fresh meadow-lands spread out; and we passed some extensive sheets of
water, bordered by undulating banks in the freshest verdure. We passed
several villages, among which one called Mái-Dalá, was distinguished by
its neat appearance, most of the huts having been recently thatched, to
protect them against the rains. In the forest which intervened, dúm-
bushes and dúm-palms, here called “kolóngo,” attracted my attention, on
account of the wide range this plant occupies in Central Africa, while
it was erroneously believed to belong exclusively to Upper Egypt. Having
passed the shallow water of Ambusáda, where numbers of the blue-
feathered bird here called “dellúk,” with red feet, were splashing
about, we again approached the inauspicious village where I had first
set my foot in this country.
Here also, during the short time I had been absent, a great change had
taken place. The ground was being cleared, in order to prepare it for
the labours of the rainy season; and the bushes and trunks of trees were
burnt, in order to render the soil more productive by means of the
fertilizing power of the ashes. We had not before passed so closely to
the river; and I was astonished at the immense size of the ant-hills,
which were not of the ordinary kind, such as they are seen in general,
rising in steep conical peaks, but rather like those which I had seen
near the Bénuwé—but of larger proportions and rising to an elevation of
from 30 to 40 feet, and sloping very gradually, so that their
circumference at the base in some cases measured more than 200 feet. The
village itself had meanwhile changed its character, owing to the number
of new huts which had been erected on account of the approach of the
rainy season, and the old ones having received a new thatching. All
these new structures consisted of reed and matting; but nevertheless it
had a neat and cheerful appearance. As I entered the village, I was
saluted by the inhabitants as an old acquaintance, and pitched my tent
quietly on the former spot.
[Sidenote: April 19th.]
This was a memorable day to me, destined to teach me a larger share of
stubborn endurance. Having passed a quiet night, I began early to speak
to the head man of the village about crossing the river, making him at
the same time a small present. In Bagírmi also, as well as in Logón and
other parts of Negroland, there is a separate officer for the river-
communication. This officer, who in Bagírmi bears the title of alífa-bá
(“kemán-komádugubé” or “officer of the river”), has an agent or kashélla
in every village on the banks of the river where there is a ferry; and
this agent was absent at the time. Meanwhile I was conversing with
several of my former friends, and, among others, met an inhabitant of
Jógodé, who regretted extremely that I had missed my road to that place,
as I should have been well treated there, and forwarded on my journey
without obstacle, almost all of the inhabitants being Kanúri. The
governor of that place, who, like that of Moító, bears the title of
“alífa,” had left, as this man informed me, in order to join the sultan
on the expedition.
While I was thus conversing, the head man of the village suddenly came
to my tent, and informed me that messengers had arrived from the
lieutenant-governor, in order to prevent my proceeding; and upon his
asking me what I intended to do, I told him that I would divide the time
which I should be obliged to wait between this place, Jógodé, and
Klésem, but that, if I should be compelled to wait too long, I should
feel rather inclined to return to Logón. They rejected my proposal, and
requested that I should stay in Mélé, saying that the inhabitants of the
village had promised to supply me with rice and fish, and that I ought
not to stir from here. While I was quietly expostulating with him upon
this treatment, telling him that this was almost impossible, the place
being too badly provided, and that they might at least allow me to
remain half the time in the neighbouring village of Klésem, gradually
more and more people entered my tent, and, suddenly seizing me, put my
feet in irons.
Perhaps the unexpectedness of such an occurrence was rather fortunate;
for if I had in the least divined their purpose, I might have made use
of my arms. But taken by surprise and overpowered as I was, I resigned
myself in patience, and did not speak a word. The people not only
carried away my arms, but also all my luggage; and, what grieved me
most, they even seized my chronometer, compass, and journal. Having then
taken down my tent, they carried me to an open shed, where I was guarded
by two servants of the lieutenant-governor.
After all this trying treatment, I had still to hear a moral lecture
given me by one of these half pagans, who exhorted me to bear my fate
with patience, for all came from God.
Even my servants at first were put in irons; but when they protested
that if they were not set at liberty I should have nobody to serve me,
their fetters were taken off, and they came faithfully to me to soothe
my misfortune. In the evening the slave of the alífa-bá mounted my
horse, and, taking one of my pistols with him, rode off to Más-eñá.
Having remained silently in the place assigned to me till the evening, I
ordered my servants to demand my tent back, and to pitch it in the old
place; and to my great satisfaction my request was granted. Thus I
passed the four following days quietly in my tent, and, although
fettered like a slave, resigned to my fate. Fortunately I had Mungo
Park’s first journey with me; and I could never have enjoyed the account
of his sufferings among the Ludamar (Welád-Ammer) better than I did in
such a situation, and did not fail to derive from his example a great
share of patience.
It was in this situation that, while reflecting on the possibility of
Europeans civilizing these countries, I came to the conclusion that it
would be absolutely necessary, in order to obtain the desired end, to
colonize the most favourable tract of the country inclosed by the Kwára,
the Bénuwé, and the river Kadúna, and thus to spread commerce and
civilization in all directions into the very heart of the continent.
Thus I wrote in my journal: “This is the only means to answer the
desired end; everything else is vain.”
[Sidenote: April 23rd.]
While lying in my tent in the course of the evening, my friend from
Bákadá, Háj Bú-Bakr Sadík, arrived on my horse, and, being seized with
indignation at the sight of my fetters, ordered them to be taken off
without delay. I begged him to forgive me for having regarded myself as
a free man, and not as a slave, not being aware of the real nature of my
situation in this country. He, however, praised my conduct very highly,
saying that I could not have acted otherwise than I did, and promising
that I should now enter the capital without further delay of any kind.
Remaining cool and quiet under the favourable change of my
circumstances, I thanked Providence for having freed me from this
unpleasant situation, regarding it in the light of a useful lesson for
future occasions. All my property was restored to me, even my arms, with
the exception of the pistol which had been taken to the capital.
However, the following day I had still to resign myself to patience, the
chief servant of the lieutenant-governor not having yet arrived, and my
horse, which had made the journey to the capital and back with great
speed, wanting a little rest.
[Sidenote: Sunday, April 25th.]
Early in the morning we entered upon our march once more, in an easterly
direction; and although I had not yet experienced very kind treatment in
this country, I was prepared to endure everything rather than to forego
seeing the capital; but my poor servants were very differently disposed,
for, having no mental interest, they felt the material privations more
heavily. While they viewed with horror our projected journey eastward,
they cast a melancholy look on the opposite bank of the river, which
promised them freedom from privation as well as from vexation.
It was now for the fourth time that I was passing along the banks of the
stream. It was at present at its very lowest (“bá nedónge,” as the
Bagírmi people say), having sunk a foot or two since I first saw it, and
having laid bare a much larger part of the sandbank. People in Europe
have no idea of the situation of a solitary traveller in these regions.
If I had been able to proceed according to my wishes, my road, from the
very first moment when I entered the country, would have lain straight
along the course of this mighty river towards its sources; but a
traveller in these countries is no better than a slave, dependent upon
the caprice of people without intelligence and full of suspicion. All
that I could expect to be able still to accomplish, under present
circumstances, was to obtain distinct information concerning the upper
course of the river; for, ardent as had been my desire to join the
sultan on his expedition, from all that I had seen I could scarcely
expect that the people would allow me to go to any distance.
Our march the first day was rather short, for, having rested almost six
hours, during the heat of the day, in a village called “Káda-bákaláy,”
we went only three miles further, when we encamped in another village
called “Káda-márga,” recently built, where the inhabitants of the
deserted village of the same name, which on our return-journey from the
capital we passed in the forest, had taken refuge. The village had a
neat appearance, there being even a dyeing-place or “búkko alínbe;” it
was also enlivened by several tame ostriches. The well, with a depth of
from ten to twelve fathoms, contained a rich supply of water, but of bad
quality.
The next day we made up for our loss of time, and only stopped for the
night, about a couple of miles beyond Bákadá; for, notwithstanding my
esteem for Bú-Bakr Sadík, I refused to make any stay in, or even to
enter the place where I had been kept back so long a time. The wooded
wilderness had become prepared by the rains to receive its temporary
inhabitants the Shúwa; and the well of Bákadá, for the use of which I
had been obliged to pay so many needles, was left to decay.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, April 27th.]
We set out early in the morning, in order to reach at length the final
object of our journey before the heat of the day. The country was well
cultivated; and the fields of native corn were here also laid out in
ridges, or “derába.” Trees were scattered in all directions, principally
talha and hájilíj. The soil consisted of sand, but was succeeded further
on by clay, forming several large basins, where, later in the rainy
season, extensive ponds are formed. Here the country was enlivened by
fine tamarind-trees, besides a few specimens of the dúm-palm. We then
entered a district rich in herbage, and well adapted for cattle-
breeding. Shúwa and Felláta foreigners were living here (as they
generally do) together on friendly terms, as the similarity of the
manners of these two distinct tribes, notwithstanding their different
origin and totally distinct language, has brought them everywhere into
the closest connection, and has facilitated in a remarkable manner the
spreading of the latter race over so large an extent of Central Africa.
The huts of these cattle-breeders are very different from those of the
native settlers, being far more spacious, in order to admit the cattle,
and having the roofs thatched in a very light and negligent manner, as
they usually change their dwelling-places with the season, and therefore
do not choose to bestow much labour upon them.
As we were proceeding onwards we suddenly obtained a view over a green
open depression clad with the finest verdure, and interspersed with the
ruins of clay houses. This, then, was Más-eñá, the capital. It presented
the same ruined appearance as the rest of the country.
The town was formerly much larger; and the wall had been carried back,
but it was still far too large for the town, and in the utmost state of
decay. Ruined by a most disastrous civil war, and trodden down by its
neighbours, the country of Bagírmi seems to linger till it is destined
either to rise again, or to fall a prey to the first invader.
However, I was not allowed to enter the holy precinct of this ruined
capital without further annoyance; for, being obliged to send a message
to the lieutenant-governor, announcing my arrival, I was made to wait
more than an hour and a half outside the gate, although there was not
the least shade. I was then allowed to make my humble entrance. Only a
few human beings were to be seen; and open pasture-grounds extended to a
considerable distance, principally on the right side towards the south.
We then entered the inhabited quarter; and I was lodged in a clay house
standing in an open courtyard, which was likewise fenced by a low clay
wall. The house contained an airy front room well suited to my taste,
and four small chambers at the back, which were certainly not very airy,
but were useful for stowing away luggage and provisions.
I had scarcely taken possession of my quarters, when numbers of people
came to salute me on the part of the lieutenant-governor; and a short
time afterwards a confidential slave of his made his appearance, to whom
I delivered my presents, consisting of a piece of printed Manchester
cotton sufficient for a tobe, an Egyptian shawl, several kinds of
odoriferous essences, such as “makhbíl,” the fruit of a species of
_tilia_, “lubán” or benzoin, and a considerable quantity of sandal-wood,
which is greatly esteemed in the countries of Negroland east of Bórnu.
While delivering these presents, and presenting my humble compliments, I
declared myself unable to pay my respects personally to the lieutenant-
governor, unless he restored my pistol, which was all that was wanting
of the things which had been taken from me at Mélé; and after some
negotiation, it was agreed upon that he should deliver to me the pistol
as soon as I presented myself, without my even saying a word about it.