THE UNIVERSITY OF SANKORÉ
The Queen of the Sudan would have been adorned with an imperfect diadem
if the crowning glory of Art had been wanting.
Insuperable objections prevented her possession of monuments. Neither
wood nor stone existed in her neighbourhood, not even plaster was at
her disposal, and the priceless clay of Jenne is not to be found on
the threshold of the desert. These facts are sufficient excuse for my
not giving a long account of the architecture of the great mosques of
Timbuctoo (Gingharaber and Sankoré) and the oratory of Sidi Yaia. The
dimensions of these buildings greatly exceed those of the ordinary
dwellings; but a mere collection of walls, more or less high, long
and thick, can scarcely be called a work of art, and nothing in these
temples recalls the happy decorative harmony of the old mosque of
Jenne. In a distant view of the city, their three minarets, looking
like abbreviated pyramids, represent their only interest.[13]
Unable, therefore, to develop the sensuous arts, Timbuctoo reserved all
her strength for the intellectual, and here her dominion was supreme.
The city became the religious, scientific, and literary centre of the
Nigerian regions. ‘Salt comes from the north, gold from the south, and
silver from the country of the white men, but the word of God and the
treasures of wisdom are only to be found in Timbuctoo,’ says an old
Sudanese proverb.
It would perhaps be an exaggeration to put the school of Timbuctoo on a
level with those of Syria, Spain, Morocco, and, above all, Egypt; for
I must admit that I have not found among her libraries any work equal
in literary glory to those masterpieces of the Arabian language and
intellect--the _Hariri_, the _Hamadani_, or the Bedouin _Kaisadas_.
For all that, Timbuctoo was not merely the great intellectual nucleus
of the Sudan, that is to say, of the negroes--she was also one of the
great scientific centres of Islam itself, her university being the
younger sister of those of Cairo, Cordova, Fez, and Damascus. Her
collection of ancient manuscripts leaves us in no doubt upon the point,
and permits us to reconstruct this side of her past in its smallest
details.
* * * * *
It is in Eastern Africa that the origin of the intellectual glory
of Timbuctoo must be sought, and it is to the Moors that it must be
attributed. We know that this fraction of the Berber peoples adopted
the religion of their Arabian conquerors, and it was through the
Moorish tribes who ranged along the Atlantic coast that Islamism
penetrated to the country of the blacks in the ninth century. Wherever
the Mussulman religion found foothold it was invariably followed by
the language of the Koran and the Arabian sciences. The holy book
contained, or should contain, everything needful for a disciple
of Mahomet. It gave laws to man and regulated his faith, whether
religious or philosophical. The Koran was a code in which everything
was decreed--so much so, indeed, that to elucidate it was to teach
religion, philosophy, and law. Grammar and literature were also founded
on it, for they were taught on the lines of the language employed by
the editor of the holy book and illustrated by examples taken from it.
Thus the Arabian language and culture spread over the frontiers of
the negro countries. Oualata, ‘where the holiest and most learned men
resided,’ became its bulwark; and upon the emigration of her people
to Timbuctoo, the latter town became the palladium of the faith. The
Moorish poets and scholars of Spain brought with them the harvests of
Grenada and Cordova. The caravans from the north spread abroad the
progress of Fez, Marrakesh, and Tunis; and the annual pilgrimage to
Mecca and Medina proved the means of disseminating the many advantages
of Cairo. Timbuctoo, more than any other town, was enabled to profit
by the conquests of Arabian intellect and to collect and arrange large
libraries. Market of merchandise as she was, she also became the
storehouse of the Arabian language and science, spreading them afar
with her textiles and salt.
The confusion of tongues prevailing in the metropolis of the Sudan
necessitated a common language, and Songhois, Foulbes, Toucouleurs,
Touaregs, Bambaras, Mossi, Haoussankas, Malinkas, etc., all used Arabic
as the vehicle of a mutual comprehension.
An entire class of the population was devoted to the study of letters,
being called fakirs or sheiks by the old manuscripts, and marabuts
by the Sudanese of to-day. The first term carries the meaning of
jurist, ‘those who know the law,’ and is interesting, as it proves
that the scientific movement originated from the study of the judicial
principles contained in the Koran. The name sheik or marabut is
preferable for present use, as it signifies both priest and doctor, and
therefore better expresses the dual character of the Sudanese scholar.
The marabut is a man who, by his devotion to Islam and his application
of the duties indicated by the Koran, by his profound knowledge of the
holy writ, his learning and the dignity of his personal life, sets an
example to all true believers. He belongs in general to a family which,
so to speak, makes a profession of devotion and science; this twofold
reputation descends from father to son, and is sustained by pilgrimages
to the holy places and sojourns in the great Arabian universities.
We possess the biographies of several hundreds of these learned men,
and all are related to one another in a more or less direct line. A
cerebral refinement was thus produced among a certain proportion of the
negraic population which has had surprising results, as we shall see
later, and which gives the categorical lie to the theorists who insist
upon the inferiority of the black races.
These pious and cultured families of Timbuctoo lived within the
precincts of the mosque of Sankoré, and formed a locality analogous
to the Quartier Latin of Paris. They were held in great esteem by
both dignitaries and people. ‘The learned Ahmed (father to Ahmed Baba
the writer) was attacked by a dangerous illness. In order to render
homage to the merits and piety of this holy man, the sultan went every
evening to pass several hours by his bed of suffering, continuing this
assiduity until the pious sheik was completely recovered.’ For a long
time a portion of the taxes (the _diaka_ or tenth) was reserved for
these marabuts. The Songhoi kings pensioned the most celebrated, and
they received many gifts, especially in the month of Ramadan. They
were intrusted with the education of children, and, to ensure them
the tranquillity so necessary to the man of thought and letters, their
affairs were managed and their properties cultivated by their slaves.
Each marabut followed his special vocation. Some confined themselves
to the study of religion and the service of God and the mosque, others
practised law, becoming magistrates or kadi, and a great number
consecrated their lives to the art of teaching. It was not unusual to
see two, or even all three, of these professions united in one person,
and the study of books and the art of writing them were pursued by all.
[Illustration: THE MOSQUE OF SANKORÉ]
* * * * *
Having already described the rich metropolis and the city of pleasure,
we will now, with the aid of the marabuts who consecrated themselves
to God, resuscitate that Holy City of which the _Tarik_ proudly says,
‘Never has Timbuctoo been sullied by the worship of idols nor by
rendering homage to any other deity than the merciful God. It is the
dwelling-place of wise men, the servants of the Most High, and the
perpetual habitation of saints and ascetics.’
The marabuts, under the direction of the Sheik-ul-Islam and the imans,
called the faithful to prayers, held public readings of the sacred
writings, and preached during the month of Ramadan, the great Mussulman
fast. Some, like the recluses of the Thebaïd, withdrew from the world
and fasted incessantly. They passed entire nights in prayer in the
mosque, and were full of care and pity for orphans. Others--but let us
rather admire the perfect picture given in the original.
‘The very learned and pious sheik, Abou Abdallah, had no property, all
his goods went to succour the poor and unhappy, and he bought slaves
that he might give them their liberty. His house had no door, every
one entered unannounced, and men came to see him from all parts and at
all hours, especially on Sundays after the two o’clock prayer. Moors
and Arabs flocked to him in crowds as soon as they learned his virtues.’
We might be reading the life of some Christian saint; and numerous
miracles are not lacking to complete the resemblance. The following
was accomplished by a marabut who lived somewhere about the year 1330:
‘The fakir El Hadj, grandfather of the Kadi Abderrahman, was living in
Bankou when the king of Mali attacked that town. The people gathered
round him before going to battle, and he instructed them to eat of
a certain herb. With the exception of one man, all did as they were
directed. Then said El Hadj, “Go forth to battle, and the arrows of
the enemy shall have no power to hurt you.” They all returned safe and
victorious, with the exception of the man who would not eat, and he
had died in the contest.’ A no less extraordinary incident happened
to the great-great-grandfather of the celebrated writer Ahmed Baba.
‘Being in Medina (Arabia), he asked permission to visit the tomb of the
Prophet. This grace being denied to him, he sat down upon the threshold
and recited the litanies of God’s elect. The door immediately opened
of its own accord, and the priests, amazed by this marvel, humiliated
themselves before him and kissed his hands.’
The life of Sidi Yaia, the patron of Timbuctoo, is particularly full of
miracles. One day, as he was holding an open-air reading of the Koran,
a cloud appeared overhead and rain fell. The rain being followed by a
clap of thunder, his disciples arose to seek shelter. ‘Remain in your
places,’ said Sidi Yaia, ‘it will not rain upon this spot.’ And thus
it happened. The following anecdote is equally remarkable: ‘His female
slaves wished to cook a fish, and for a whole day they submitted it
to the action of the fire without result. The women were astounded,
but Sidi Yaia, overhearing their talk, said to them, “As I went to
pray in the mosque this morning my foot touched something moist; it
was probably your fish, for that which my body has touched fire has no
power to burn!”’
Miracles being so plentiful, it will surprise no one to learn that the
marabuts were on equally familiar terms with prophecies and visions.
The departure from Marrakesh of the Moorish army which was to conquer
the Sudan was announced on the same day to the people of Timbuctoo by
the fakir Abderrahman. ‘After reciting the morning prayer,’ says the
_Tarik_, ‘he invoked the name of Allah three times, and said, “This
year thou shalt hear many things, the like of which thou hast never
heard, and thou shalt see many things, the like of which thou hast
never seen!”’
In the early part of Sidi Yaia’s life, Mahomet was wont to appear
to him every night, but as he grew older these visits became less
frequent, until finally the Prophet only appeared to him once a year.
When asked the reason of this remissness, Sidi Yaia replied, ‘The only
reason which occurs to me is, that formerly I paid no attention to
trade, and now I devote a good deal of time to it.’ ‘But why do you do
so?’ ‘Because I have no wish to be dependent on others,’ answered the
saint.
Mohammed Neddo, who governed Timbuctoo in the name of the Touaregs
shortly before its conquest by Sunni Ali, was on very intimate terms
with Sidi Yaia. Towards the end of his life it was shown to Neddo
in a dream that though the sun had set the moon had not risen. This
portentous vision was imparted to his friend, who said, ‘Art thou
afraid to learn the meaning of this dream?’ ‘I am not afraid,’ was
the reply. ‘It signifies, then, that I shall die very soon, and that
you will die shortly after.’ Neddo was overcome with sadness. ‘Art
thou afraid?’ asked Sidi Yaia. ‘This sadness is not caused by fear of
death,’ answered Neddo, ‘but by the great love I bear for my little
children.’ ‘Confide them to God,’ said the prophet. Sidi Yaia died
shortly after this, and Neddo soon followed him, and was buried by the
side of his friend in the mosque he had built.
The marks of divine favour by which Allah distinguished his marabuts
from other believers were even manifested after death. A certain
sheik had given instructions that only one of his disciples should
be permitted to prepare his funeral toilet. When the time came the
disciple found a lighted taper by the side of the corpse. He commanded
that it should be extinguished and the grave-clothes brought. When the
winding-sheet was spread over the body it immediately gave forth such a
marvellous light that the whole chamber was illuminated by it.
The old chronicles relate a thousand incidents as remarkable in every
way as those I have just quoted. A learned doctor of Timbuctoo was
justified in saying, ‘The holy men of this city were not surpassed in
piety by the companions of the Prophet.’ These pious individuals were
called _Oualiou_, and men of evil life, who found their last moments
full of the fear of the Lord, requested that they might be buried near
these saints, in order that the departed should intercede for them with
the Most High. Pilgrimages were made to their houses and their gardens.
Miracles were asked for, and granted, because--well, because there
is no reason why they should not be granted when asked for by true
believers.
North, south, east, and west of the town, upon the crests of the dunes,
are built the little chapels which mark their graves and form a rampart
of sanctity round the city. Wishing to visit these dunes, in memory of
the charming tales which had grown out of the dust of those who slept
there, my servant and I sallied forth one morning, with Winchesters
duly charged in readiness for the Touaregs. Scarcely a dozen of these
_edicules_ are still standing under the sickly shade cast by a few of
the consumptive trees of the desert. We found an old man before one
of them, a marabut of the present who had come to visit his brothers
of the past. He had opened the door of one of the little chapels, and
its interior showed a small clay mound covered with pieces of a coarse
stuff. Sitting on the threshold, the old man quavered a few verses from
the Koran.
[Illustration: THE TOMBS SURROUNDING TIMBUCTOO]
It was the only sound we heard, and he was the only living being we
met in the white furnace of the sands, the vast field of death which
surrounds the city. At every step the foot knocked against some skull,
tibia, or even an entire skeleton, the remains of bygone generations,
and of corpses confided yesterday to the inconstant sands, and
disinterred to-day by the wild beasts of the desert. The sternness
and sterility of the desert, and the accumulated death encircling me,
recalled the vision of the Valley of Jehoshaphat spreading before the
walls of Jerusalem the Holy, whose soil, like this, produces only an
efflorescence of death.
The marabuts, who devoted themselves to the study of law, administered
justice according to the precepts of the Koran and the decisions
contained in the most important works of the Arabian jurists. They also
made inventories of property, determining its succession, and generally
filling the position of lawyer.
The scholars of Timbuctoo yielded in nothing to the saints and their
miracles. During their sojourns in the foreign universities of Fez,
Tunis, and Cairo, ‘they astounded the most learned men of Islam by
their erudition.’ That these negroes were on a level with the Arabian
savants is proved by the fact that they were installed as professors in
Morocco and Egypt. In contrast to this we find that the Arabs were not
always equal to the requirements of Sankoré. ‘A celebrated jurist of
Hedjaz (Arabia), arriving in Timbuctoo with the intention of teaching,
found the town full of Sudanese scholars. Observing them to be his
superiors in knowledge, he withdrew to Fez, where he succeeded in
obtaining employment.’
The profession of teaching was absolutely free, its only qualification
consisting of a sufficiently large audience. If one may believe their
biographies, these masters were of rare merit, full of kindliness and
goodwill towards their pupils, and keenly alive to the responsibilities
of their position. They would refuse the exalted and lucrative post of
iman in order to continue their profession. One of them ‘multiplied
obstacles to avoid being made Grand Kadi.’
The following is a description of the daily occupations of Mohammed
ben Abou Bakr, one of the most respected scholars of his day: ‘He gave
lectures on different subjects from early morning until ten o’clock.
After returning home for prayer he went to the kadi to settle the
affairs of his clients and act as mediator between disputants. He
recited the mid-day prayer in public, and taught in his own house
until three o’clock; he then said the prayer of _asr_, and went out to
teach in a different place until dusk, and after sunset he gave a final
lecture in the mosque.’
[Illustration: TOMB OF A SAINT]
Here is the portrait of a professor of whom it was written, ‘The Sudan
did not possess another as learned and pious.’ He was endowed with
every imaginable gift, and was, in fact, none other than Sidi Yaia
himself, the patron of Timbuctoo; and we shall see him under the triple
aspect of saint, kadi, and scholar:--
‘He was gifted with a calm intelligence which was only equalled by his
infallible memory. His science was universal, his whole personality
commanded respect and obedience, and many men owned no other rule of
conduct than the precepts which fell from his lips. People came in
crowds to ask his blessing, bringing with them gifts of considerable
value. He received all these visitors with great modesty, and
invariably gave their presents away to others. On being elected kadi he
abolished many of the abuses and corrupt practices of the tribunal, and
was a model of equity in the eyes of all true believers. The pressing
duties of magistracy in no way abated his ardour for teaching, and
by his eloquence he charmed all who listened to him. What clearness
of explanation! How sure and easy a guide was his method! Such an
intellect was surely created to revolutionise!’ Sidi Yaia, in fact,
resuscitated the sciences in the negro countries, and instructed many
young men who afterwards distinguished themselves in letters. His life
was as long as it was useful; he lived to the age of eighty-seven
(1373-1462), and was employed in teaching during fifty of those years.
It would be superfluous to insist that these learned men must have
possessed marvellous libraries, for their catalogues are mentioned by
the Sudanese authors. Religious, judicial, and grammatical works occupy
the first place. They consist of collections of traditions concerning
the Prophet, such as the _Sahih of Bokhari_, the _Djana of Essoyouti_,
the _Sahih of Moslem_, and the _Sogra_, in which the author says
that, having been transported to Paradise, he saw Abraham engaged in
teaching little children and setting them copies to write. The _Alfyga_
is a grammatical treatise, and the _Chemail of Termedi_ contains a
description of the qualities of the Prophet, his private life and
policy. Finally, works on law are represented by the doctrines of the
sect of Iman Malek, including the numerous commentaries to which they
gave birth, the abridgment of Sidi Khalil, the _Risala_ of Abou-Zaid of
Kairwan, etc.
Poetry and works of imagination are not lacking, nor compositions
of a kind peculiar to Arabian literature; such as the _Hariri_ and
_Hamadani_. I found a copy of the _Choice of Marvels_, composed at
Mossul by the learned Abu Abdallah ben Abderrahim of Grenada in the
year 1160. The historical and geographical works of Morocco, Tunis, and
Egypt were well known in Timbuctoo (Ibn Batouta being often quoted),
and the pure sciences were represented by books on astronomy and
medicine. In short, the libraries of Timbuctoo may be said to have
included almost the whole of Arabian literature.
Amongst other trades, the city made a speciality of manuscripts. ‘Books
sell very well there,’ said Léon the African, ‘and a greater profit
is to be made out of them than out of any other merchandise.’ The
learned doctors were, to use an expression which may appear strange
when applied to negroes, bibliophiles. In the best sense of the word,
be it understood; they had no mania for collecting uncut books and
bindings, but were true lovers of books. We see them ‘searching with a
real passion for volumes they did not possess,’ and making copies when
they were too poor to buy what they wanted. They would in this manner
collect from seven hundred to two thousand volumes; and in marked
contrast to the miserly book-lovers of our day, these bibliophiles
experienced a real joy in sharing their most precious manuscripts with
others. ‘Abou Bakr loved the friends of science, and paid them every
sort of attention. He would lend them his most cherished books and
never ask for them back again, however rare they might be. He lavished
his entire library in this manner (may Allah reward him!); the student
who came to his door to borrow was never denied, and this is the more
remarkable, as he was passionately devoted to books, and would only
obtain his reward in heaven.’
The libraries of Timbuctoo were sadly reduced by the pillage of the
Foulbes and Toucouleurs. At the present time the marabuts and kadis are
best provided, but every wealthy inhabitant prides himself upon the
possession of a few books. He does not often read them, it is true, but
he likes to show them, which, to him, is almost as good.
In spite of this I found it very difficult to procure any books in the
early part of my stay. They were afraid I should practise the nefarious
customs of the Toucouleurs and Foulbes. After I had gained some credit
among them, a few solitary pages were lent to me, and when they saw
that I treated them tenderly and faithfully returned them, they decided
to trust me with whole volumes. I never succeeded in inducing any of
them to sell me a book, however much I offered for it, and had to
content myself with copying all that seemed interesting to me. One man
told me the history of a unique volume which he had parted with to a
merchant from the south, and had regretted ever since. He had received
forty gros of gold for it, which, at the rate of ten francs a gros,
represents a respectable sum for a book, even in France.
* * * * *
From the masters we will turn to the pupils. These flocked to the city
from all sides, from the desert, Morocco, and all parts of the Sudan.
Jenne and the secondary intellectual circles, such as Tindirma, Dia,
Sa, Korienza, etc., served as preparatory schools for Timbuctoo. The
sons of the Songhoi kings quitted the palaces of Gao, and the children
of the Touaregs deserted their great tents to receive an education at
the University of Sankoré. The _Tarik_ mentions this interesting fact:
‘One of the Askia, Mohammed Bankouri, collected an army with which to
dispute the supreme power with a king proclaimed at Gao. Pausing at
Timbuctoo, and having conversed with the Grand Kadi, he requested him
to write a letter to his rival, saying that he, Bankouri, renounced
the throne that he might follow the life of a student in this city of
books.’ Side by side with princes and sons of chieftains came poor
wretches, eager for knowledge, who were supported by the dignitaries
of the town, and by those merchants who liked to play the _rôle_ of
Mæcenas.
[Illustration: A SCHOOL AT JENNE]
The student or _Taliba_ arrives armed with the groundwork of
instruction; some small marabut of his native country having taught
him to read and write. It is a picture one constantly sees in the
Sudan. In the shade before the schoolmaster’s house, a collection of
children are gathered together in the coolest corner. Arranged in
circles and sitting on their heels, they repeat verses of the Koran in
chorus, following the inflections, marking the pauses, and imitating
the tone indicated to them. They learn to form the Arabic characters by
copying a page of the holy book on the wooden tablets which take the
place of the too costly paper. From time to time the tablet is washed
and set in the sun to dry, after which it is again ready for use.
Reading and writing being accomplished, the master delivers a
grammatical and exegetical explanation of the text. He either takes
the words one by one, or grouped in sentences, and discourses on the
rules of syntax, explains the meaning of the passage, and adds
some religious or historical reflections. When the entire Koran has
been gone through, the parents, who have offered weekly presents of
cowries or in kind, make a final and more extensive present to the
professor, and invite him to a little _fête_ given to their friends and
acquaintances.
[Illustration: A SCHOOL IN THE STREET]
The young man is now prepared for the reading of works of greater
importance of another kind. I say ‘reading’ designedly, for Arabian
instructions consist less of lessons _ex professo_ than of the
explanation of books.
Thus prepared, the _Taliba_ sets out for Timbuctoo, and there he
usually studies under several masters, each of whom makes a speciality
of elucidating some particular work. He goes from one to another,
according to their merits or the dictates of his own fancy. The lessons
are given under the arcades of the mosque of Sankoré, or in the court
or gardens of the teacher’s house.
The branches of instruction were many and various. The theologians
commented upon and analysed the great sacred books, and taught
rhetoric, logic, eloquence, and diction in order to prepare the
student to spread abroad the words of God and maintain controversies.
The jurist expounded the law according to the Malekite dogmas, and
the stylists taught the art of writing ‘in ornamental terms.’ Others
professed grammar, prosody, philology, astronomy, and ethnography;
and others again were ‘very versed in the traditions, biographies,
annals, and histories of mankind.’ Mathematics do not appear to have
formed a special course; and as for medicine, the grossest empiricism
was mingled with the hygienic principles of the therapeutic Arab. A
certain sheik is shown curing a toothache ‘with a little earth from his
garden,’ and, worse than that, ‘a great personage having been attacked
by leprosy, doctors came from all parts of Africa to prescribe for him.
One of them said, “He can only be cured by eating the heart of a young
man.” The emir instantly ordered one to be killed, but it did no good,
and the great personage died of his disease.’
[Illustration: A SCHOOLMASTER]
These studies were exceedingly long. ‘We were three years over the
explanation of the Teshil of the Iman Malek before we acquired a
thorough mastery of the subtleties of the Arabian language,’ says
a writer of Timbuctoo. Physical education, on the other hand, was
grossly neglected. Even in the time of Sunni Ali the children were
forbidden to play or practise bodily exercises. When the learned men,
pursued by the tyrant, were obliged to quit Timbuctoo, ‘they did not
know how to mount a camel, and fell miserably to the ground.’
The students, having completed their education, receive a diploma or
licence to teach. They are now marabuts in their turn, and all the
liberal careers of the Sudan are open to them. They can enter the
mosques and become imans or preachers in some small town, or they
can aspire to the position of kadi, or assistant-kadi, in their own
country. Some adopt the careers of their masters and found fresh
families of sheiks.
Rich merchants often take one of these young men into their household,
where he plays a part analogous to that formerly occupied by the
chaplain in European families. He occupies himself with the education
of the children, reads aloud to the head of the family, and writes his
letters. He also gives his opinion on matters of hygiene and morality,
superintends the merchant’s charities, and tells him amusing stories.
Other _Talibas_ gain a livelihood by giving lessons in the Arabian
language and writing to the negro strangers passing through Timbuctoo.
A great number fill the office of public scribe, and undertake the
correspondence of different merchants; they also copy books, for which
they are paid from fifteen to one hundred francs, according to the
importance of the work.
Thieves and hypocrites may also be counted among their numbers. These
exploit the credulous and cultivate superstition among the people,
reducing Islamism to the level of the fetich-worship and the practice
of magic, brought from Egypt by the ancestors of the Songhois.
They will prepare noxious potions for a consideration, and hold
somnambulistic consultations. They foretell the failure or success
of a journey or enterprise, manufacture talismans, and profess to
cast spells. The traffic of talismans or _gris-gris_ is particularly
lucrative, their principal clients being Touaregs and negroes. These
_gris-gris_ consist of prayers or invocations, written on a morsel of
stuff and sewn up in a leathern bag. They are suspended from the walls
of houses to keep away demons and djinns, and to serve as a protection
against enemies. Certain rigmaroles read on a Monday or a Friday will
protect travellers on their journeys. I have even discovered a ‘recipe
for driving away locusts.’ Here it is: ‘Any one desiring this, should
write upon four sheets of paper the prayer I have composed, and place
one in each corner of his field. He must then take a yellow and a red
locust and pronounce the first verse of my prayer seven times, after
which he must say, “O Locust, if thou and thy companions do not quit
this field, thou shalt be charged with the abominable sin of him who
hath relations with mother and daughter.”’
A learned man of great celebrity, El Moucheïli, wrote a book on these
charlatans, entitled, ‘Advice to honest people against allowing
themselves to be duped by pretended marabuts.’
[Illustration: A SEWING-SCHOOL IN THE SUDAN]