[Illustration: Drawn by Major Denham.
Engraved by E. Finden.
ALAMEEN-BEN MOHAMMED EL KANEMY.
SHEIKH OF BORNOU.
_Published by John Murray, London. Feb. 1826._]
=NARRATIVE=
OF
=TRAVELS AND DISCOVERIES=
IN
=NORTHERN AND CENTRAL AFRICA,=
IN THE YEARS 1822, 1823, AND 1824,
BY MAJOR DENHAM, CAPTAIN CLAPPERTON, AND THE
LATE DOCTOR OUDNEY,
EXTENDING ACROSS THE
GREAT DESERT TO THE TENTH DEGREE OF NORTHERN LATITUDE, AND FROM
KOUKA IN BORNOU, TO SACKATOO, THE CAPITAL OF THE FELLATAH EMPIRE.
WITH
=AN APPENDIX,=
PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EARL BATHURST, ONE OF
HIS MAJESTY’S PRINCIPAL SECRETARIES OF STATE, AND DEDICATED BY
PERMISSION TO HIS LORDSHIP,
BY MAJOR DIXON DENHAM,
OF HIS MAJESTY’S 17TH REGIMENT OF FOOT,
AND
CAPTAIN HUGH CLAPPERTON,
OF THE ROYAL NAVY,
THE SURVIVORS OF THE EXPEDITION.
* * * * *
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET.
* * * * *
MDCCCXXVI.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.
TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE EARL BATHURST, K.G.
HIS MAJESTY’S PRINCIPAL SECRETARY OF STATE FOR THE COLONIES,
THIS VOLUME,
CONTAINING
AN ACCOUNT OF THEIR DISCOVERIES
MADE UNDER THE AUSPICES OF HIS LORDSHIP,
IS INSCRIBED,
WITH THE GREATEST RESPECT AND GRATITUDE,
BY HIS OBLIGED AND FAITHFUL SERVANTS,
THE AUTHORS.
=PREFACE.=
* * * * *
By the death of Dr. Oudney, it has fallen to the lot of Captain
Clapperton and myself to render an account to the public of our
expedition into the interior and central parts of Northern Africa.
The sudden departure of my surviving companion, on a second mission,
has necessarily thrown the greater part of the burden on myself.
I believe, however—for I have not seen any of his papers—that Captain
Clapperton, during the lifetime of Dr. Oudney, made but few remarks
himself beyond the construction of the chart of our route, from daily
observations of the latitude, and of lunars for the longitude, whenever
favourable opportunities occurred; but, subsequently to the death of
his travelling companion, which happened at an early stage of their
journey into Soudan, a journal of his proceedings and remarks appears
to have been regularly kept; and this, together with other documents
connected with that journey, were left at his departure in the hands
of Mr. Barrow, with a request that he would see them through the press.
It may naturally enough be asked, Why something more than a short
excursion to the westward of Mourzuk, and a few notes, do not appear
from the pen of Dr. Oudney in the present volume? I can only answer the
question by the fact, that the only papers placed in my hands consist
of “An Itinerary from Mourzuk to Bornou;” and “An Excursion to the
Westward of Mourzuk;” neither of which have been deemed fit for
publication _in extenso_, from their imperfect state, and containing
very little beyond what will be found in my own journals. I have,
however, printed in foot notes such parts of them as have been pointed
out to me. Not a paper of his, to my knowledge, has been lost or
destroyed; and I can only account for the unsatisfactory state in which
they have been found, from the circumstance of his ill health, which
became extremely precarious from the moment of our departure from
Mourzuk, where he had caught a cold, which settled on his lungs, and
never left him. On our arrival at Kouka, and frequently afterwards, he
experienced so many attacks of fever, that there appeared little hope
of his surviving to return to England, which was indeed his own
opinion; and when he set out on his last journey towards Soudan, he was
so exhausted, and in a state so unfit for such an undertaking, that he
fell a martyr to his zeal very soon after his departure, though, had he
remained at Kouka, the melancholy event would not, in all probability,
have been prolonged many days.
My own expeditions in various parts of Bornou, in Mandara, and Loggun,
and the two fruitless attempts I made to complete the tour of the great
lake Tchad, will be found to occupy a considerable portion of the
volume; and being made in countries, and among a people unknown to
Europeans,—many of them even by name or report,—it is hoped that
observations, faithfully and circumstantially minuted down at the time
and spot, will not be found tedious or uninteresting to the reader.
It will, perhaps, be thought by some, that I have been more minute than
necessary in the account of our journey across that tremendous desert
which lies between Mourzuk and Bornou, and which, generally speaking,
is made up of dark frowning hills of naked rock, or interminable
plains, strewed in some places with fragments of stone and pebbles, in
others of one vast level surface of sand, and, in others again, the
same material rising into immense mounds, altering their form and
position according to the strength and direction of the winds. But,
even in the midst of this dreary waste, towns, villages, wandering
tribes, and kafilas, or caravans, sometimes occur to break the solitude
of this dismal belt, which seems to stretch across Northern Africa,
and, on many parts of which, not a living creature, even an insect,
enlivens the scene. Still, however, the halting places at the wells,
and the wadeys or valleys, afford an endless source of amusement to the
traveller, in witnessing the manners, and listening to the
conversation, of the various tribes of natives, who, by their singing
and dancing, their story telling, their quarrelling and fighting, make
him forget, for a time, the ennui and fatigue of the day’s journey.
As for the rest, I have to trust to its novelty, for its recommendation
to the public, rather than to any powers of writing, which I pretend
not to possess; and it is now a source of great satisfaction to me
that, under all my difficulties, and they were not few, I was able to
adhere to the resolution I set out with, of recording, at the end of
each day, the occurrences, however trifling, that had taken place.
To Sir Robert Ker Porter, my friend since the days of boyhood, I am
indebted for having perfected several drawings, with his experienced
pencil, from my hasty, but yet faithful sketches, of the people and
scenery of Central Africa. His eye was nearly as familiar as my own
with the picturesque objects they display; and, indeed, all who are
acquainted with the published narrative of his Researches amongst the
Remains of Ancient Persia and Babylonia, might readily recognise the
same hand, in these his spirited delineations of African costume and
character.
DIXON DENHAM.
ALBANY, LONDON,
Jan. 1st. 1826.
[Illustration: MAP _of the_ Travels and Discoveries _made in_ NORTHERN
& CENTRAL AFRICA, by _Dr. Oudney, Major Denham, & Captn. Clapperton,
R.N._ in the Years 1822, 3, & 4.
_J. & C. Walker Sculpt._
_Published as the Act directs Feby. 1826, by John Murray Albemarle
Street London._]
CONTENTS.
* * * * *
Page
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.—From Tripoli to Mourzuk xi
Excursion to the Westward of Mourzuk xliii
MAJOR DENHAM’S NARRATIVE.
CHAP. I.—From Mourzuk to Kouka in Bornou 1
CHAP. II.—Kouka 67
CHAP. III.—Expedition to Mandara 99
CHAP. IV.—Excursion to Munga and the Gambarou 149
CHAP. V.—Rainy Season at Kouka 181
CHAP. VI.—Excursion to Loggun, and Death of Mr. Toole 226
CHAP. VII.—Journey to the Eastern Shores of the Lake Tchad 248
Supplemental Chapter on Bornou 314
CAPTAIN CLAPPERTON’S NARRATIVE.
Prefatory notice to the Narrative, _by John Barrow_
SECT. I.—From Kouka to Murmur, where Dr. Oudney died 1
SECT. II.—From Murmur to Kano 34
SECT. III.—From Kano to Sackatoo, and Residence there 67
APPENDIX.
NO. I.—Translation of a Letter from the
Sheikh Mohammed El Kanemy 139
NO. II.—Translation of a Letter from an African Chieftain 140
NO. III.—A Letter from Yousuf, Pasha of Tripoli, to the
Sheikh of Bornou 141
NO. IV.—A Letter from the Pasha of Tripoli 143
NO. V.—A Letter from the Sheikh of Bornou to the
Sultan of Kanou 144
NO. VI.—A Letter from the Sheikh of Bornou to the
Sultan of Hoossa 145
NO. VII.—A Letter from the Chieftain Mohammed Gamsoo 146
NO. VIII.—A Document relating to the Death of Mungo Park 147
NO. IX.—A Letter from the Sheikh of Bornou to
Captain Clapperton 148
NO. X.—A Document made at the Court of Justice of Bornou 149
NO. XI.—Translation of Letters and Documents received from
the Sheikh of Bornou concerning Mr. Tyrwhit’s Death 151
NO. XII.—Translation of an Arabic MS. 158
NO. XIII.—A Narrative of the first Battle of Kadawee 167
NO. XIV.—The Song of Mohammed-Alameen ben Mohammed El Kanemy 171
NO. XV.—Translation of an extempore Arab Song 173
NO. XVI.—Translation of the Song of the Fezzanneers,
on Boo Khaloom’s Death 174
NO. XVII.—Bornou Vocabulary 175
NO. XVIII.—Begharmi Vocabulary 179
NO. XIX.—Mandara Vocabulary 180
NO. XX.—Timbuctoo Vocabulary 181
NO. XXI.—Zoology 183
NO. XXII.—Botany 208
NO. XXIII.—Letter to Major Denham on the Rock Specimens 247
NO. XXIV.—Thermometrical Journals 262
LIST OF PLATES.
* * * * *
No. Page
1. Alameen ben Mohammed El Kanemy,
Sheikh of Bornou, _Frontispiece_
2. Part of the Stony Desert, _to face page_ xvi
3. Castle at Mourzuk, from Mr. Ritchie’s Grave xxi
4. Woman of Sockna xxvii
5. _Vignette_, Arabs Meeting xlii
6. View of the Bahr Mandia lviii
7. Castle, and Salt Lake at Tegerhy 5
8. Anay Tibboo Country 17
9. Kanemboo Marketwoman,—Unmarried Woman of Soudan 46
10. Body Guard of the Sheikh of Bornou 64
11. Reception of the Mission by the Sultan of Bornou 79
12. Shouaa Women, kingdom of Bornou 94
13. Arrival at Mora, the capital of Mandara 111
14. Mandara Musicians 123
15. Plan of the Pass of Hairy, Mandara mountains 127
16. Attack on Musfeia 133
17. _Vignette_, Manner of Roasting Fish 148
18. The River Gambarou, or Yeou, near Lada 152
19. Favourite of the Seraglio, accompanying a
Military Expedition 163
20. Kanemboo Spearman,—Munga Bowman, in the service of the
Sheikh of Bornou 166
21. Abdel Gassam, a Felatah from Timbuctoo—A Bornouese
on a Journey 177
22. _Vignette_, Kanemboo Night Watch 180
23. Hut, and Carpenter’s Shop 201
24. _Vignette_, Plan of Kouka 225
25. Fishing Boats on the River Shary 229
26. River Shary, from the Walls of Kussery 235
27. _Vignette_, Negresses Pounding Corn 247
28. A Loggun Lady—Funha of Maffatai—Abdelahi of Mandara 259
29. Hager Teous, or the Footstool of Noah 261
30. Sketch of the Lake Tchad 266
31. Lancers of the Sultan of Begharmi 279
32. Manner of Fishing on the River Yeou 284
33. Encampment near Woodie 289
34. Ghirza, south face of Building 305
35. Frieze on do. _ib._
36. Town of Sangeia, in Houssa 36
37. Natives of Soudan 54
38. _Vignette_, Plan of the Town of Kano 56
39. A Reduction of Bello’s Map of Central Africa 109
40. Appendix—Fennecus Cerdo 183
41. Arms and Armour of Central Africa, brought
42. home by Major Denham,—Three Plates.
43.
44. General Map of the Routes of the Travellers.
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
BY MAJOR DENHAM.
* * * * *
FROM TRIPOLI TO MOURZUK.
Previous to any knowledge I had received of the intentions of His
Majesty’s government to follow up the mission of Mr. Ritchie and
Captain Lyon, I had volunteered my services to Lord Bathurst to
proceed to Timbuctoo, by nearly the same route which Major Laing
is now pursuing. I learnt, in reply, that an expedition had been
planned, and that Doctor Oudney and Lieutenant Clapperton, both of
the navy, were appointed; and with these gentlemen, by the kindness
of Lord Bathurst, I was, at my request, associated. My companions
left London before me; but, as soon as ready, I lost no time in
proceeding in the packet to Malta, where I found that they had left
the island for Tripoli nearly a month before. By the kindness of
Admiral Sir Graham Moore, Sir Manley Power, Sir Richard Plasket,
and Captain Woolley, commissioner of the dock-yard, all my wants
were amply supplied; and judging that the assistance of a shipwright
or carpenter might prove of essential use, and being allowed by my
instructions to engage any one, at a reasonable salary, who might
choose to volunteer to accompany the mission, William Hillman,
shipwright, a man of excellent character, immediately offered his
services, on an agreement that he should receive 120_l._ a year so
long as he should continue to be employed.
I embarked in the Express schooner, which the admiral lent me for
the purpose, and, on the 18th November, after three days’ sail,
arrived at Tripoli, and found my two companions at the house of
Mr. Consul Warrington, anxiously expecting my arrival. Of this
gentleman it is not too much to say, that by his cheerful and good
humoured disposition, his zeal, perseverance, and extraordinary good
management, we owe, in a great degree, that influence which England
possesses with this government far beyond that of any other of the
Barbary powers. The English name, in fact, is of such importance
in Tripoli, that there is scarcely a point to carry, or a dispute
to settle, in which the bashaw does not request the interference of
the British consul: and to him, indeed, is, in a great degree, owing
the origin and success of the late mission. He stated broadly to
the government at home, that the road from Tripoli to Bornou was as
open as that from London to Edinburgh; which, with a small allowance
for Oriental hyperbole, was found to be true—witness the journey
of my lamented friend Lieutenant Toole, and also of Mr. Tyrwhitt,
the latter laden with valuable presents.
But this is not all: the British flag has a peculiar power of
protection, and the roof of the English consul always affords a
sanctuary to the perpetrator of any crime, not even excepting murder;
and scarcely a day passes that some persecuted Jew or unhappy slave,
to escape the bastinado, does not rush into the court-yard of the
British consulate for protection. A circumstance occurred in returning
from one of our excursions, which shows in what high estimation the
English character is held in Tripoli. A poor wretch, who, for some
trifling offence, was sentenced to five hundred bastinadoes, having,
while on his way to receive the sentence of the law, contrived to
slip from the custody of his guards, fortunately met with the child
and servant of Doctor Dickson, a most respectable and intelligent
English physician practising in Tripoli: the condemned wretch, with
wonderful presence of mind, snatched up the child in his arms, and
halted boldly before his pursuers. The talisman was sufficiently
powerful: the emblem of innocence befriended the guilty, and the
culprit walked on uninterrupted, triumphantly claiming the protection
of the British flag.
But the following proves still more strongly to what extent the
influence of the British flag might be carried.—Since the reduction
of the refractory Arabs to submission, no chief had received such
repeated marks of kindness and attention from the bashaw, as sheikh
Belgassam ben Khalifa, head of the powerful tribe of El Gibel. At
the particular request of the former, sheikh Khalifa had quitted
his tents and flocks, resided in the city, and was high in his
prince’s confidence—fatal pre-eminence in Barbary states!—and
had been presented, but a few months before, with one of the most
beautiful gardens in the Minshea. Returning from the castle after an
evening of music and dancing in the bashaw’s private apartments,
Belgassam kissed the hand that had signed his death-warrant, and took
his leave. At his own door a pistol-shot wounded him in the arm, and
on entering the skiffa, or passage, a second entered his body. The
old sheikh, after his slave had fastened the door, staggered to his
carpet, and then, in the arms of his wife, proclaimed his assassin
to be his own nephew, sheikh Mahmoud Belgassam Wildé Sowdoweah. The
work being, however, but half done, others rushed in, and seven
stabs put an end to his sufferings, notwithstanding the screams
of his wife, who received two wounds herself, in endeavouring to
save her husband. The poor old man was almost instantly buried,
and the three persons who had undertaken the murder fled to the
British consulate for protection. Early the next morning, however,
the consul despatched his dragoman to give the bashaw notice, “that
the murderers of Khalifa would find no protection under the flag of
England.” The bashaw said, “he was shocked at the murder, and
regretted the assassins having taken refuge in the consulate, as it
was a sanctuary he could not violate, particularly as he understood
they meant to resist, and were well armed.” Our consul replied,
“that the bashaw was at liberty to send any force he pleased, and
use any means he thought best, to drag them from beneath a banner
that never was disgraced by giving protection to assassins.” The
minister also came and expressed the bashaw’s delicacy; and it was
evident he did not expect such would be the conduct of the consul:
he was, however, peremptory, and the bashaw dared not seem to favour
such an act of villany. It was sunset before he decided on taking
them away, when about sixteen of the chosen people of the castle
entered the consulate, and the wretches, although provided with arms,
which they had loaded, tremblingly resigned themselves, and were,
in less than an hour, hanging over the walls of the castle.
On a day appointed we waited on the bashaw. After passing the
court-yard, crowded with guards, and several groups of Arabs in the
passages and ante-rooms playing at cards or dice, we were introduced
to the audience chamber, where the bashaw, sitting cross-legged on
a carpet, supported by his two sons, and attended by armed negroes,
received us kindly, ordered us to be served with sherbet and coffee,
and expressed himself in the most favourable manner on the subject
of our mission, which he promised to forward in safety into the
interior of Africa. He invited us to join him in a hawking party. The
cavalcade, consisting of about three hundred, altogether presented so
novel an appearance, that I shall endeavour to give some description
of our morning’s amusement. The bashaw was mounted on a milk-white
Arabian, superbly caparisoned, with saddle of crimson velvet richly
studded with gold nails, heavy stirrups of the same, and trappings of
embroidered cloth hanging down on each side nearly to the horse’s
fetlock joint; he was preceded by six _chaoushes_, or officers, also
mounted and richly caparisoned, armed with long guns, swords, and
pistols, and a white silk barracan thrown loosely and gracefully round
their bodies. His highness was supported on each side by a favourite
black slave, whose glittering vest, light bornouse, and white turban,
formed a pleasing contrast to the costume of the Arabs. We proceeded
in a westerly direction; and on arriving at the desert, parties of
six and eight dashed forward, with the rapidity of lightning, several
hundred paces, fired, immediately halted in a most surprising manner,
and with loud cries rushed back again to the main body, when instantly
the same ceremony was repeated by another party. Their superior
skill in the management of their horses is really beautiful; and
the way they manœuvre their long musket, by repeatedly spinning it
over their heads at full speed, has a most picturesque effect. Near
the bashaw’s person rode Sidy Ali, his third son, although second
in succession, in consequence of the banishment of the eldest; he
also was attended by his particular guard of Arabs, distinguished
not only by their superior and determined appearance, but by their
figured muslin bornouses. Sidy Ali is the bashaw’s favourite son,
and is particularly handsome, although what we should call too fat,
and is said to resemble very much what the bashaw was at his age:
he is allowed great privilege and liberty, which is indeed proved
by his saying, the other day, to his father, “I shall succeed you
as bashaw.” “How do you mean?” “How? why, by taking the same
steps you did yourself,” said the youth.
I was invited, with my colleagues, to pass a day about five miles
from Tripoli, at the garden of Mahomed D’Ghies, to whom I brought
letters from his son, who was residing in London, much noticed
and respected. This old gentleman had been minister for foreign
affairs to the bashaw, but had retired from office some time, on
account of a complaint in his eyes. He is a most respectable man,
and particularly kind to all European travellers who visit Tripoli;
and so well known throughout Northern Africa, that letters of
credit from him are sure to be duly honoured. Nothing could exceed
the hospitality and attention with which we were received: having
regaled ourselves with sherbet, coffee, and tobacco, several times
in the course of the day, and partaken of an excellent dinner,
_à la Turque_, in a grove of lemon and orange trees, we returned
in the evening to Tripoli, well pleased with our day’s excursion.
Tripoli has been so often described, that I shall pass it over in
silence. Its Jews, its Arabs, its Moors, and Maraboots; the slave
population, and the bashaw’s family; are all so well painted to
the life in “Tully’s Letters,” as to require no further notice
from me as a casual visitor. Neither is it my intention to enter
into a minute description of the country between Tripoli and Mourzuk;
the surface of which is not essentially different from that between
Mourzuk and Bornou, and has already been noticed by Captain Lyon,
and in the communications to the African Association.
On the 5th March, 1822, I left Tripoli for Benioleed[1], to join my
two companions, who had proceeded thither with our servants, horses,
camels, and baggage. They had gone on to Memoom, a very pretty valley,
which, at this season of the year, was green with herbage, and adorned
by flowers of various hues and colours, richly scattered in beautiful
disorder;—but it was the last of the kind we were fortunate enough
to meet with between this place and Bornou; and here the consul
and his son, who had accompanied us from Tripoli, took their leave,
with many hearty good wishes for our success and prosperity.
[Illustration: Drawn by Major Denham.
Engraved by E. Finden.
PART OF THE STONY DESERT.
NEAR SOCKNA.
_Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London._]
On the day previous to our approach to Sockna, a town about half way
between Tripoli and Mourzuk, which we reached in fourteen days, the
uniformity of the journey was somewhat enlivened, by meeting with a
kafila of slaves, from Fezzan, in which were about seventy negresses,
much better looking, and more healthy, than any we had seen near
the sea-coast. They were marching in parties of fifteen or twenty;
and on our inquiring of one of those parties from whence they came,
the poor things divided themselves with the greatest simplicity,
and answered, “Soudan, Begharmi, and Kanem,” pointing out the
different parcels, from each country, as they spoke: those from
Soudan had the most regular features, and an expression of countenance
particularly pleasing.
Passing a small wadey and plantation of date trees, we had soon
a view of Sockna, and were met on the plain, on which it stands,
by the governor and principal inhabitants, accompanied by some
hundreds of the country people, who all crowded round our horses,
kissing our hands, and welcoming us with every appearance of
sincerity and satisfaction; and in this way we entered the town:
the words “Inglesi! Inglesi!” were repeated by a hundred voices
from the crowd. This, to us, was highly satisfactory, as we were the
first English travellers in Africa who had resisted the persuasion
that a disguise was necessary, and who had determined to travel in
our real character as Britons and Christians, and to wear, on all
occasions, our English dresses; nor had we, at any future period,
occasion to regret that we had done so. There was here no jealousy,
nor distrust of us as Christians; on the contrary, I am perfectly
satisfied that our reception would have been less friendly had we
assumed a character that could have been at best but ill supported. In
trying to make ourselves appear as Mussulmans, we should have been
set down as real impostors.
The dates of Sockna are excellent, and in abundance: our animals were
liberally supplied with this fruit of fruits; and after the first
two days appeared to eat them nearly as well as corn. The population
of Sockna must be considerably more than three thousand. The town is
walled, and about a mile in circumference: has eight gates; and wears
altogether a clean and neat appearance that surprised us. The women
are certainly very pretty, and are said to be remarkable for their
love of intrigue. This may be true, or not; but we had no opportunity
of ascertaining it from our own knowledge. Of their affability and
good humour, however, we had many proofs; and while only two of us
were walking through the town one morning, with a little army of
ragged boys following us, two, of rather the better order, quickly
dispersed them; and invited us to enter a house, saying that a _mara
zene_ (a beautiful woman) wished to see us. We put ourselves under
their guidance, and entering a better sort of dwelling-house, were
quickly surrounded by at least half-a-dozen ladies, most of them aged;
but who asked us a thousand questions, and, when satisfied we were
not dangerous, called several younger ones, who appeared to be but
waiting for permission to appear. Our dresses and ourselves were
then minutely examined. The yellow buttons on our waistcoats, and
our watches, created the greatest astonishment; and a pair of loose
white trowsers that I wore, into the pockets of which I accidentally
put my hands, raised their curiosity to a wonderful degree: my hands
were pulled out, and those of three or four of the ladies thrust in,
in their stead: these were replaced by others, all demanding their
use so loudly and violently, that I had considerable difficulty in
extricating myself, and was glad to make my escape. The dress of
the Sockna women is nearly that of the Tripoline: they wear striped
shirts, of silk or linen, large silver ear-rings, with leg-lets and
arm-lets of the same: the lower classes wear those of glass or horn.
The remaining half of our journey to Mourzuk was over pretty nearly
the same kind of surface as that we had passed before; in some places
worse. Sometimes two, and once three days, we were without finding
a supply of water; which was generally muddy, bitter, or brackish:
nor is this the worst that sometimes befalls the traveller. The
overpowering effects of a sudden sand-wind, when nearly at the close
of the desert, often destroys a whole kafila, already weakened by
fatigue; and the spot was pointed out to us, strewed with bones and
dried carcasses, where the year before fifty sheep, two camels,
and two men, perished from thirst and fatigue, when within eight
hours’ march of the well which we were anxiously looking out for.
Indeed the sand-storm we had the misfortune to encounter in crossing
the desert gave us a pretty correct idea of the dreaded effects
of these hurricanes. The wind raised the fine sand with which
the extensive desert was covered, so as to fill the atmosphere,
and render the immense space before us impenetrable to the eye
beyond a few yards. The sun and clouds were entirely obscured,
and a suffocating and oppressive weight accompanied the flakes and
masses of sand, which, I had almost said, we had to penetrate at
every step. At times we completely lost sight of the camels, though
only a few yards before us. The horses hung their tongues out of
their mouths, and refused to face the torrents of sand. A sheep,
that accompanied the kafila, the last of our stock, lay down on the
road, and we were obliged to kill him, and throw the carcass on a
camel. A parching thirst oppressed us, which nothing alleviated. We
had made but little way by three o’clock in the afternoon, when
the wind got round to the eastward, and refreshed us something:
with this change we moved on until about five, when we halted,
protected a little by three several ranges of irregular hills,
some conical, and some table-topped. As we had but little wood,
our fare was confined to tea; and we hoped to find relief from our
fatigues by a sound sleep. That was, however, denied us; the tent
had been imprudently pitched, and was exposed to the east wind,
which blew a hurricane during the night: the tent was blown down,
and the whole detachment were employed a full hour in getting it
up again; and our bedding and every thing that was within it was,
during that time, completely buried by the constant driving of the
sand. I was obliged, three times during the night, to get up for
the purpose of strengthening the pegs; and when, in the morning,
I awoke, two hillocks of sand were formed on each side of my head,
some inches high.
On the 7th April we arrived at a village in the midst of a
vast multitude of palm trees, just one day’s journey short of
Mourzuk. As it was to be the last day’s march, we were all in good
spirits at the prospect of rest; and had we made our arrangements
with judgment, every thing would have gone on well. We had, however,
neglected sending on to advise the sultan of our arrival—a constant
practice, and consequently our reception was not what it ought to
have been. We arrived at D’leem, a small plantation of date trees,
at noon, and finding no water in the well, were obliged to proceed;
and it was three in the afternoon before we arrived at the wells
near Mourzuk. Here we were obliged to wait until the camels came
up, in order that we might advance in form. We might, however, have
saved ourselves the trouble:—no one came out to meet us, except
some naked boys, and a mixture of Tibboos, Tuaricks, and Fezzanese,
who gazed at us with astonishment, and no very pleasant aspect.
We determined on not entering the town in a manner so little
flattering to those whom we represented: and retiring to a rising
ground, a little distance from the gates of the town, waited
the return of a chaoush, who had been despatched to announce
our arrival. After half an hour’s delay, the sheikh El Blad
(the governor of the town) came out, and, in the sultan’s name,
requested we would accompany him to the house which had been prepared
for us; and he added, to our great surprise, the English consul is
there already. The fact was, a very ill-looking Jew servant of mine,
mounted on a white mule, with a pair of small canteens under him,
had preceded the camels, and entered the town by himself: he was
received with great respect by all the inhabitants—conducted through
the streets to the house which was destined to receive us; and from
the circumstance of the canteens being all covered with small brass
shining nails, a very high idea of his consequence was formed. He
very sensibly received all their attentions in silence, and drank
the cool water and milk which was handed to him: and we always had
the laugh against them afterwards, for having shown so much civility
to an Israelite—a race they heartily despise. “We thought the
English,” said they, “were better looking than Jews—Death to
their race! but then God made us all, though not all handsome like
Mussulmans, so who could tell?” As we were all this time exposed
to a burning sun, we were well inclined to compromise a little of
our dignity, and determined on entering the town, which we did by
the principal gate. The walls are well built, at least twenty feet
high; and the gate sufficiently wide to admit, with care, a loaded
camel. You pass through the fsug, slave-market, a wide street, with
houses on each side, three hundred yards in length. It leads into an
open space, in the centre of which the castle stands, surrounded by
a second wall. In the inside of this inner wall, in the castle yard,
are a few houses, originally built for the Mamelukes, and particular
followers of the late sultan, when they were subject to the occasional
attacks of the Arabs. In one of these, the house occupied by the
late Mr. Ritchie and Captain Lyon, arrangements were made for our
reception. Almost as soon as the camels were unloaded, we paid our
respects to the sultan: he received us with a great deal of affability
and good nature, and made an impression in his favour, which, however,
his subsequent conduct tended but little to strengthen.
[Illustration: Drawn by Major Denham.
Engraved by E. Finden.
CASTLE AT MOURZUK.
FROM MR. RITCHIE’S GRAVE.
_Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London._]
Our interview with the sultan of Mourzuk was any thing but
encouraging: he told us that there was no intention, as we had been
led to expect, of any expedition to proceed to the southward for some
time to come; that an army could only move in the spring of the year;
that the arrangements for moving a body of men through a country
where every necessary must be carried on camels, both for men and
horses, were so numerous, that before the following spring it was
scarcely possible to complete them: that two camels were required
for every man and horse, and one for every two men on foot. And as
to our proceeding to Bornou, it would be necessary, had the bashaw
instructed him to forward us, that we should be accompanied by an
escort of two hundred men. He said he would read to us the bashaw’s
letter, and we should see the extent to which he could forward
our wishes. The letter was then handed to his fighi, or secretary;
and we found that to the protection of the sultan of Fezzan were we
intrusted, who was to charge himself with our safety, and so insure
our being treated with respect and attention by all his subjects;
that we were to reside at Sebha, or Mourzuk, or where we chose in
the kingdom of Fezzan, and to await his return from Tripoli. With
this our audience ended, and we returned to our habitation.
It is quite impossible to express the disheartening feelings with
which we left the castle. The heat was intense; the thermometer at
97° in the coolest spot in the house, during the middle of the day;
and the nights were scarcely less oppressive: the flies were in such
myriads, that darkness was the only refuge from their annoyance. All
poor Mr. Ritchie’s sufferings and disappointments were brought to
our recollections; and although, from the arrangements which we had
been able to make, we were better provided with necessaries than those
who had gone before us,—yet did we consider our stock as a very
sacred charge, applicable only to the grand objects of our expedition.
We received visits from all the principal people of Mourzuk the day
after our arrival; and remarking a very tall Tuarick, with a pair
of expressive, large, benevolent-looking eyes, above the black mask
with which they always cover the lower part of their face, hovering
about the door, I made signs to him to come near, and inquired
after Hateeta, the chief Captain Lyon had spoken so highly of, and
for whom, at his request, I was the bearer of a sword. To my great
surprise, striking his breast, he exclaimed, “I am Hateeta! are you
a countryman of Said[2]?—how is he? I have often longed to hear of
him.” I found Hateeta had been but once in Mourzuk since Captain
Lyon’s departure, and was now only to remain a few days. On the
following morning he came to the house, and the sword was presented
to him. It would be difficult to describe his delight; he drew
the sword and returned it, repeatedly; pressed it to his breast,
exclaimed “Allah, Allah!” took my hand, and pressing it, said
“_Katar heyrick yassur yassur_” (thank you very very much);
nearly all the Arabic he could speak. It was shortly reported all
over the whole town, that Hateeta had received a present from Said,
worth one hundred dollars.
12th.—We had been several times visited, and our hopes and spirits
raised, by a person called Boo-Bucker Boo-Khaloom. He said that it
was in the sultan’s power to send us on to Bornou if he pleased: he
even hinted that a bribe for himself might induce him to do so—this,
however, we found was not the case. Boo-Khaloom was represented to us,
and truly, as a merchant of very considerable riches and influence
in the interior. He was on the eve of starting for Tripoli, with
really superb presents for the bashaw. He had five hundred slaves,
the handsomest that could be procured, besides other things. He stated
to us, secretly, that his principal object in going to Tripoli was
to obtain the removal of the present sultan of Fezzan; and wished
that we should make application to the bashaw for him to accompany
us farther into the interior: we were not, however, to hint that
the proposition had come from him. Boo-Khaloom said that he should
be instantly joined by upwards of one hundred merchants who waited
but for his going, and no further escort would be necessary; that
he should merely remain a few weeks in Tripoli, and, on his return,
we could instantly move on. The substance of all these conversations
was transmitted to Colonel Warrington.
Boo-Khaloom left Mourzuk for Tripoli, with his slaves and presents;
loading upwards of thirty camels, apparently reconciled to, and upon
good terms with, the sultan. It was, however, very well known that
Sultan Mustapha had set every engine at work to have Boo-Khaloom’s
head taken off on his arrival in Tripoli; and that the other was
willing to sacrifice all he was worth to displace and ruin Mustapha
in the bashaw’s favour.
It was not till the 18th, that the sultan, after attending the
mosque, started for Tripoli; all his camels and suite had marched
in divisions, for three days previous,—in slaves he had alone
more than one thousand five hundred. He was attended by about ten
horsemen, his particular favourites, and four flags were carried
before him through the town. The inhabitants complained dreadfully
of his avarice, and declared that he had not left a dollar, or an
animal worth one, in all Fezzan.
Nothing was now to be done but to make our arrangements for a
favourable start the following spring. By the sultan’s departure,
every necessary for our proceeding was withdrawn from the spot
where we were. Not a camel was to be procured, and every dollar,
that he could by any means force from his subjects, was forwarded
to Tripoli. To Tripoli, therefore, were we to look for supplies
of every kind; and it was decided by us all, that my departure had
better follow his as soon as possible.
In pursuance of our determination to represent to the bashaw of
Tripoli how necessary it was that something more than promises should
be given us for our sterling money, on Monday, the 20th May, I left
Mourzuk, with only my own negro servant Barca, three camels, and
two Arabs; and, after a most dreary journey of twenty days, over the
same uninteresting country I had already traversed,—the more dreary
for want of my former companions,—I arrived at Tripoli on the 12th
June, where I was received by the consul with his usual hospitality
and kindness, and he assigned me apartments in the consulate.
12th.—I requested an immediate audience of the bashaw, which in
consequence of the Rhamadan was not granted me until the following
evening. The consul, Captain Smyth of the navy, and myself,
attended: I represented, in the strongest terms, how greatly
we were disappointed at the unexpected and ruinous delay we had
experienced in Mourzuk, and requested a specific time being fixed for
our proceeding to Bornou; stating, also, that were the answer not
satisfactory, I should proceed forthwith to England, and represent
to the government how grievously we had been deceived. The bashaw
denied having intentionally broken his word, and solemnly declared
that the will of God, in visiting the sultan of Fezzan with sickness,
had alone prevented our being now on the road to Bornou.
A voyage to Marseilles, on my way to England, was the consequence
of our altercation with the bashaw; and the promptitude with which
it was decided upon, and carried into effect, by means of a small
French vessel which, at the time, most fortunately lay in the harbour,
was not without its good effects. The bashaw sent three despatches
after me, by three different vessels, to Leghorn, Malta, and the
port I had sailed to, which I received in quarantine, informing me,
that Boo-Khaloom was appointed with an escort to convey us forthwith
to Bornou. This was every thing I wished for; and immediately
re-embarking, a seven days’ passage brought me once more to the
shores of Barbary. Boo-Khaloom and part of the escort were already
at the entrance to the desert; and on the 17th of September we
re-entered the pass of Melghra in the Tarhona mountains. Hope and
confidence had taken possession of my mind, in the place of anxiety
and disappointment; there was now an air of assurance and success
in all our arrangements; and I felt my health and spirits increase
with this conviction. But little beyond the casualties attendant on
desert travelling occurred, previous to our arriving again at Sockna,
which we did on the 2d of October.
I found the great failing of my friend, Boo-Khaloom, was pomp and
show; and feeling that he was, on this occasion, the bashaw’s
representative, he was evidently unwilling that any sultan of
Fezzan should exceed him in magnificence. On entering Sockna, his six
principal followers, handsomely attired in turbans and fine barracans,
and mounted on his best horses, kept near his person, whilst the
others, at a little distance, formed the flanks. I rode on his right
hand, dressed in my British uniform, with loose Turkish trowsers,
a red turban, red boots, with a white bornouse over all, as a shade
from the sun; and this, though not strictly according to order, was by
no means an unbecoming dress. Boo-Khaloom was mounted on a beautiful
white Tunisian horse, a present from the bashaw, the peak and rear
of the saddle covered with gold, and his housings were of scarlet
cloth, with a border of gold six inches broad. His dress consisted
of red boots, richly embroidered with gold, yellow silk trowsers, a
crimson velvet caftan with gold buttons, a silk benise of sky blue,
and a silk sidria underneath: a transparent white silk barracan was
thrown lightly over this, and on his shoulders hung a scarlet bornouse
with wide gold lace, a present also from the bashaw, which had cost,
at least, four hundred dollars; a cashmere shawl turban crowned the
whole. In this splendid array, we moved on until, as we approached
the gates of the town, the dancing and singing men and women met us;
and, amidst these, the shouts and firing of the men, who skirmished
before us, and the “loo! loo!” of the women, we entered Sockna.
We found that houses were provided for us in the town; but the kafila
bivouacked outside the gates. It had always been our intention
to halt at Sockna, for three or four days; and here we expected
to be joined by a party of the Megarha Arabs, whom their sheikh,
Abdi Smud ben Erhoma, had left us, for the purpose of collecting
together. Hoon and Wadan were also to furnish us with another
quota. My house consisted of a court-yard eighteen feet square,
and a small dark room, leading out of it by two steps: the court,
however, was the greater part of the day shaded; and here, on a
carpet, I received my visitors. The Arabs, as they arrived, were
all sent to me by Boo-Khaloom; and their presentation has a form in
it, not much in character with their accustomed rudeness: they all
came armed with their long guns; and the same girdle which confines
their barracan contains also two long pistols. The chief enters,
and salutes, dropping on one knee, and touching the stranger’s
right hand with his, which he carries afterwards to his lips; he then
says, “Here are my men, who are come to say health to you.” On
receiving permission, they approached me, one by one, saluting in
the same manner as their chief, who continued to remain at my side:
they then sat down, forming a sort of semicircle round me, with
their guns upright between their knees; and, after a little time,
on the sheikh making a signal, they all quitted the presence.
Boo-Khaloom, who had suffered very considerably from fever, cold,
and ague, now became so seriously ill, that our departure was of
necessity postponed, and he insisted upon my prescribing for him,
saying, “he was quite sure that I could cure him, if it was the
will of God that he should live: if not, that nobody could.” His
confidence in me gave me some confidence in myself: but alone, with
very few medicines, and less skill, my situation was really one of
great anxiety; for no one could foresee what might have been the
consequence, had any thing serious happened to him while under my
hands. He became alarmingly ill, and for two days and nights I had
great doubts of his recovery; to my great satisfaction, however,
on the third morning, after a night of pain and delirium (and which
I had passed in watching by his side), a violent eruption appeared
on his skin, with some little moisture, produced by covering him up
the whole day with blankets, and suffering no one to come into the
room but his favourite female slave. By the evening, he became much
better.—Hajamad, or charms, are what the Arabs have most faith in,
when they are ill. All the fighis (writers) and maraboots in Sockna
were employed on this occasion by my friend’s friends, and one
night the tassels of his cap were literally loaded with them. He
assured me, when alone, that he had no faith in such things, and
smiled when he said his friends would think ill of him, were he to
refuse; his faith, however, was stronger than he chose to acknowledge,
and entering, unexpectedly, one morning, I found him with a dove
that had been just killed and cut open lying on his head, which,
as he assured me, was because a very great maraboot had come from
Wadan on purpose to perform the operation.
During our stay at Sockna, the marriage of the son of one of the
richest inhabitants, Hadgi Mohammed-el-Hair-Trigge, was celebrated in
the true Arab style. There is something so rudely chivalric in their
ceremonies (so very superior to the dull monotony of a Tripolitan
wedding), where from one to five hundred guests, all males, assemble,
covered with gold lace, and look at one another, from the evening of
one day until daylight the next, that I cannot help describing them.
The morning of the marriage-day (for the ceremony is always performed
in the evening, that is, the final ceremony; for they are generally
betrothed, and the fatah read, a year before) is ushered in by the
music of the town or tribe, consisting of a bagpipe and two small
drums, serenading the bride first, and then the bridegroom, who
generally walks through the streets very finely dressed, with all
the town at his heels; during which time, the women all assemble
at the bride’s house, dressed in their finest clothes, and place
themselves at the different holes in the wall which serve as windows,
and look into the court-yard. When they are so placed, and the bride
is in front of one of the windows with her face entirely covered
with her barracan, the bridal clothes, consisting of silk shifts,
shawls, silk trowsers, and fine barracans, to show her riches,
are hung from the top of the house, quite reaching to the ground:
the young Arab chiefs are permitted to pay their respects; they are
preceded from the skiffa, or entrance, by their music, and a dancing
woman or two advances with great form, and with slow steps, to the
centre of the court, under the bride’s window: here the ladies
salute their visitors, with “loo! loo! loo!” which they return
by laying their right hand on their breasts, as they are conducted
quite round the circle. Ample time is afforded them to survey the
surrounding beauties; and there are but few, who, on these occasions,
are so cruel as to keep the veil quite closed. Such an assemblage
of bright black eyes, large ear-rings, and white teeth, are but
rarely seen in any country, I should suppose. After having made
the circuit, the largess is given, and exposed to view by the chief
_danseuse_, and, according to its amount, is the donor hailed and
greeted by the spectators. Previous to their departure, all visitors
discharge their pistols, and then again the ladies salute with the
“loo! loo!” So far from being displeased at my asking permission
to pay my respects, they considered it as a favour conferred; and
the bridegroom, although he could not himself be admitted, attended
me to and from the house of his mistress. This ceremony being ended,
a little before sunset, the bride prepares to leave her father’s
house: a camel is sent for her with a jaafa[3], or sedan chair of
basket-work, on its back, covered with skins of animals, shawls from
Soudan, Cairo, and Timbuctoo: she steps into this, and so places
herself as to see what is going forward, and yet to be entirely
hid from the view of others. She is now conducted outside the town,
where all the horsemen and footmen who have arms are assembled. Our
escort on this occasion added greatly to the effect, as they were
all, by Boo-Khaloom’s order, in the field, consisting of sixty
mounted Arabs; and when they all charged and fired at the foot of
the bride’s camel, I really felt for the virgin’s situation;
but it was thought a great honour, and that, I suppose, consoled
her for the fright. They commenced by skirmishing by twos and fours,
and charging in sections at full speed, always firing close under the
bride’s jaafa: in this manner they proceeded three times round the
town, the scene occasionally relieved by a little interlude of the
bridegroom’s approaching the camel, which was surrounded by the
negresses, who instantly commenced a cry, and drove him away, to the
great amusement of the bystanders, exclaiming, “_Burra! Burra!_
be off! be off! _mazal shouia!_ a little yet!” With discharges
of musketry, and the train of horsemen, &c. she is then conveyed
to the bridegroom’s house; upon which it is necessary for her to
appear greatly surprised, and refuse to dismount: the women scream,
and the men shout, and she is at length persuaded to enter; when,
after receiving a bit of sugar in her mouth from the bridegroom’s
hand, and placing another bit in his, with her own fair fingers,
the ceremony is finished, and they are declared man and wife.
[Illustration: A WOMAN OF SOCKNA.
Drawn by Captn. Clapperton. R.N.
Engraved by E. Finden.
_Published by John Murray, London. Feb. 1826._]
We had now to pass the Gibel Assoud, or Black Mountains: the
northernmost part of this basaltic chain commences on leaving
Sockna. We halted at Melaghi, or the place of meeting immediately
at the foot of the mountain, the well of Agutifa; and from hence
probably the most imposing view of these heights will be seen. To the
south, the mountain-path of Niffdah presents its black overhanging
peaks, and the deep chasm, round which the path winds, bearing a
most cavern-like appearance: a little to the west, the camel path,
called El Nishka, appears scarcely less difficult and precipitous;
the more southern crags close in the landscape, while the foreground
is occupied by the dingy and barren wadey of Agutifa, with the well
immediately overhung by red ridges of limestone and clay: the whole
presenting a picture of barrenness, not to be perfectly described,
either by poet or painter.
Large masses of tabular basalt, and irregular precipices, common to
this formation, are scattered over this range of hills, and extend
over all the plains which environ them. The most lofty hills are those
which present the most massive façades of tabular basalt; the sides
sometimes exhibit a step-like appearance, and in many instances
are overhung by pillars, curved, inclined, and perpendicular:
these produce a singular effect, not devoid of grandeur. The lower
stratum of all these hills is invariably limestone, mixed with a
reddish clay. Hills of the same are found bordering upon, and in
some cases joining, the basaltic ones; some of these are strewed
over with a covering of basalt stones of various sizes and forms,
none of them large, from three to eighteen inches in circumference,
but still showing the colour and structure of the soil on which
they are spread. Other hills of limestone are also indiscriminately
found without the slightest particle of basalt on them, although in
the immediate vicinity of what could easily be imagined the ancient
crater of a volcano, which had showered a sombre covering heaved
from the very bowels of the earth, on all the then existing hills
and plains which surrounded it. Some of these limestone hills have
been cut through, either by the falling of masses of rock from the
higher hills, or by violent watercourses; and a section of them
reveals nothing but pure limestone mixed with clay.
The Souda, or Gibel Assoud[4], extend from north to south, three
days’ journey, but in so winding a direction, as not to exceed
thirty-five miles at the utmost in a straight line: to the west,
as far as the well called Assela, on the road to the Shiati, where
the red clay hills continue alone, and join the hills at Benioleed:
to the east, they extend three days on the road to Zella, or Bengagi,
to a wadey called Temelleen.
The first four days of our journey, after leaving Agutifa, were
all dreariness and misery. This was the third time that I passed
these deserts: but no familiarity with the scenery at all relieves
the sense of wretchedness which the dread barrenness of the place
inspires. We marched from dawn until dark, for the sake of getting
over them as quickly as possible; and as scarcely sufficient fuel
was to be found to boil a little water, a mess of cold tumuta was
usually our supper. On leaving Tingazeer, we had the blessing of
a rainy day; for such it was to all, but particularly to the poor
negroes who accompanied the kafila, although Boo-Khaloom always
gave them to drink from his skins once in the day (an unusual
kindness), yet marching as they were for twelve and fourteen hours,
once scarcely satisfied nature. In consequence of the rain, we found
water fresh and pure during almost every day’s march, and arrived
at Zeghren[5] with the loss of only one camel. On the last day,
previous to arriving at the well, Omhul Abeed, a skeleton of a man,
with some flesh still hanging about him, lay close to the road;
but it was passed by the whole kafila, with scarcely a remark.
After these dreary wastes, it was no small pleasure to rest a day at
Zeghren, the native town of a considerable merchant who accompanied
our kafila. When we first left Sockna for Mourzuk, Abdi Zeleel
had before taken me to his house, and presented me to his mother
and sister; and he now insisted on my taking up my quarters there
altogether. Almost the first person that presented herself was my
friend the merchant’s sister, I had almost said the fair, Omhal
Henna[6]. She had a wooden bowl of haleeb (fresh milk) in her hand,
the greatest rarity she could offer, and holding out the milk with
some confusion towards me with both her hands, the hood which should
have concealed her beautiful features had fallen back; as my taking
the milk from her would have prevented the amicable salutation we
both seemed prepared for, and which consisted of four or five gentle
pressures of the hand, with as many _aish harlecks_, and _tiebs_,
and _ham-dulillahs_, she placed the bowl upon the ground, while the
ceremonies of greeting, which take a much longer time in an African
village than in an English drawing-room, were, by mutual consent,
most cordially performed. I really could not help looking at her with
astonishment, and I heartily wish that I had the power of conveying
an idea of her portrait. It was the _Jemma_ (Friday), the Sabbath,
and she was covered, for I cannot call it dressed, with only a blue
linen barracan, which passed under one arm, and was fastened on
the top of the opposite shoulder with a silver pin, the remaining
part thrown round the body behind, and brought over her head as a
sort of hood, which, as I remarked, had fallen off, and my having
taken her hand when she set down the milk had prevented its being
replaced. This accident displayed her jet black hair in numberless
plaits all round her expressive face and neck, and her large sparkling
eyes and little mouth, filled with the whitest teeth imaginable. She
had various figures burnt on her chin with gunpowder: her complexion
was a deep brown; and round her neck were eight or ten necklaces of
coral and different coloured beads. So interesting a person I had
not seen in the country; and on my remaining some moments with my
eyes fixed on her, she recommenced the salutation, “How is your
health,” &c. and smiling, asked, with great naiveté, “whether I
had not learnt, during the last two months, a little more Arabic.”
I assured her I had. Looking round to see if any body heard her—and
having brought the hood over her face—she said, “I first heard
of your coming last night, and desired the slave to mention it to my
brother. I have always looked for your coming, and at night, because
at night I have sometimes seen you: you were the first man whose
hand I ever touched—but they all said it did not signify with you,
an _Insara_ (a Christian). God turn your heart!—but my brother says
you will never become Moslem—won’t you, to please Abdi Zeleel’s
sister? My mother says God would have never allowed you to come, but
for your conversion.” By this time, again the hood had fallen back,
and I again had taken her hand, when the unexpected appearance of Abdi
Zeleel, accompanied by the governor of the town, who came to visit
me, was a most unwelcome interruption. Omhal-henna quickly escaped;
she had, however, overstepped the line, and I saw her no more.
Besides our own people, and the followers of Boo-Khaloom, we had a
number of liberated slaves who were returning to their homes. The
bashaw had given freedom to twenty-four from the castle, sixteen
of whom were females. Our friend, Mohammed D’Ghies, had also
liberated three young women, all under twenty, natives of Begharmi,
the evening previous to our leaving Tripoli, telling them, in my
presence, that his friends the English wishing to visit their country,
was the cause of their being set at liberty. There are circumstances
attached to this act of D’Ghies beyond the mere liberation of three
healthy negresses, so creditable to the feelings of this excellent
old man, that they must not be omitted. Two of these girls only had
fallen into his hands, and on his intimating to them his intention of
giving them their liberty, they told him that another sister had been
brought to Tripoli with them, and sold, like themselves, to slavery;
but they knew not what was become of her. Mohammed D’Ghies, after
much inquiry, succeeded in finding out who had been the purchaser,
paid the price demanded for her liberation, and provided the means
for enabling all the sisters to return together to their own country
with Boo-Khaloom.
On the 20th October, in a date grove a short distance from the town of
Temenhint, we found a kafila from Mourzuk, and some of the Mamelukes
who had come from Darfoor and Waday. I visited them with Boo-Khaloom:
their tents scarcely held together, and they gave a deplorable account
of their sufferings: two of them had been beys, and one, Mohammed
Bey, was still in the prime of life, and conversed with spirit; the
other, Ali Bey, appeared weighed down by his misfortunes, and was
between fifty and sixty years of age: they had left Cairo fifteen
years, and had passed the greater part of their exile in and near
Dongala. On the approach of the army of Mohammed Ali, three hundred
and fifty of them mustered at Dongala, and determined on passing
to Kordofan, and from thence to Darfoor. At Darfoor they refused to
receive them, and they then moved on to Wara, the capital of Waday,
where also they were refused permission to remain. For four months
they had been in great distress, the Waday people refusing to sell
them any thing for themselves, or forage for their horses, all of
which they were consequently obliged to part with: taking slaves
for them, which they again exchanged for ostrich feathers, and any
thing they could get. At Waday, all but twenty-six determined on
proceeding to the south; they, however, afterwards altered their
minds, and took the direction of the army of Mohammed Ali, meaning
to claim protection there. The twenty-six left Waday just before
the _Rhamadan_ (May), and followed the tracks of camels until they
came to a kafila of Fezzaneers proceeding to Mourzuk: this kafila
they joined; but in passing through the Tibboo Borgoo country,
one of their camels strayed and tore a branch from a date tree,
for which the Borgoo people beat and wounded one of the Mameluke
slaves: this was resented by the Mamelukes, and a quarrel ensued,
which the Fezzaneers in vain attempted to arrange. They also became
sufferers: the Borgoo people attacked and followed the kafila for
five days, during which time twenty of the Mamelukes were killed,
and thirteen of the Fezzaneers; the six remaining Mamelukes were now
on their way to Tripoli, in the hope of obtaining from the bashaw
permission to pass the remainder of their lives in his regency:
they had lost forty thousand dollars since leaving Egypt.
Mohammed Bey describes the people of Borgoo and Waday as savages of
the worst description, abhorring even the sight of a white man. I
told him it was my intention to proceed in the direction of Darfoor,
if possible: he replied, placing my hand in Boo-Khaloom’s, “Do
not leave this good man, Sidi-Rais, if you hope to return.”—But
rarely a kafila passes from Dongala to Darfoor; to Bornou, never. The
army of Egypt had been repulsed with considerable loss at Darfoor;
the people of which country, Mohammed Bey said, could muster one
hundred thousand men, armed, in the field, equipped with artillery
and mortars. The beys of Egypt had sent the King of Darfoor, many
years ago, eight pieces of ordnance; they had made others, and worked
them, as well as the people of Egypt themselves. The army had gone
south, and meant to over-run all the Kordofan, when it was thought,
if they had no reinforcement, that they would return to Egypt:
with their present strength, they could do nothing with Darfoor,
but the people of Darfoor wished for peace with Mohammed Ali, and
feared him; on this account it was that they would not receive the
Mamelukes. Affecting my own plans so materially as this information
appeared to do, it was listened to by me with the deepest interest.
On Thursday, the 24th of October, we halted at Sebha, and remained
there until Saturday the 26th, gathering our escort and collecting
our supplies.
On Wednesday, the 30th October, we made our entrée into Mourzuk with
all the parade and show that we could muster. By Boo-Khaloom’s
presents to the bashaw, but chiefly on account of his having
undertaken to conduct us to Bornou, he had not only gained the
bashaw’s favour, but had left Tripoli with strong proofs of his
master’s consideration. Boo-Khaloom, naturally liberal, had, by
successful trade, been enabled early in life to gratify his charitable
and benevolent inclinations. This made him so popular in Mourzuk,
that nearly half the inhabitants came out to meet him, at a short
distance from the town, although not any of the authorities, and we
entered the gates amidst the shouts of the people, preceded by singing
and dancing women; and the Arabs who formed our escort made such
repeated charges upon their jaded and tired animals, that I really
expected some of them would “fall to rise no more.” No living
creatures can be treated worse than an Arab’s wife and his horse,
and if plurality could be transferred from the marriage bed to the
stable, both wives and horses would be much benefited by the change.
I could not quite resist a sensation of disappointment that no friends
came out to meet me: but as the sun was insufferably powerful,
and as I had received a message by Boo-Khaloom’s brother, from
Doctor Oudney, that he was unwell, and that Clapperton had the ague,
I did not much expect it; I was, however, by no means prepared to
see either of them so much reduced as they were. Both my companions
and Hillman I found had been confined to their beds with _hemma_
(fever and ague), had been delirious, and the Doctor and Hillman
only a little recovered. Clapperton was still on his bed, which for
fifteen days he had not quitted. Doctor Oudney was suffering also from
a severe complaint in his chest, arising from a cold caught during
his excursion to Ghraat, and nothing could be more disheartening
than their appearance. The opinion of every body, Arabs, Tripolines,
and our predecessors, were unanimous as to the insalubrity of its
air. To account physically for the sickliness of the place, was beyond
the powers of wiser medical heads than mine, but facts are stubborn
things. Mr. Ritchie had fatally felt the baneful influence of the
climate of Mourzuk, and Captain Lyon had suffered extremely during
his stay there: every one of us, some in a greater or less degree,
had been seriously disordered; and amongst the inhabitants themselves,
any thing like a healthy looking person was a rarity.
Notwithstanding Boo-Khaloom made every exertion in his power
to get away from Mourzuk as early as possible, yet, from the
numerous arrangements which it was necessary for him to make,
for the provisioning so many persons during a journey through a
country possessing no resources, it was the 29th November before
those arrangements were complete. Doctor Oudney and Mr. Clapperton,
from a most praiseworthy impatience to proceed on their journey, and
at the same time, thinking their health might be benefited by the
change of air, preceded him to Gatrone by ten days. I had remained
behind to urge Boo-Khaloom and expedite his departure, and we thought
by these means to obviate any wish which he might have to delay on
account of his private affairs, even for a day. Our caution was,
however, needless; no man could be more anxious to obey the orders
he had received, and forward our views, than himself: indeed so
peremptory had been the commands of the bashaw, in consequence of the
representations of our consul general, when complaining of former
procrastination, that Boo-Khaloom’s personal safety depended on
his expedition, and of this he was well aware.
It may not be unacceptable to the reader, if I here give some account
of the strength of our party.
I had succeeded in engaging, on my return to Tripoli, as an attendant
to accompany me to Bornou, a native of the island of St. Vincent,
whose real name was Adolphus Sympkins; but who, in consequence of
his having run away from home, and in a merchant vessel traversed
half the world over, had acquired the name of Columbus; he had been
several years in the service of the bashaw, spoke three European
languages, and perfect Arabic. This person was of the greatest service
to the mission, and so faithful an attendant, that His Majesty’s
government have since employed him to accompany my former companion
and colleague, Captain Clapperton, on the arduous service he is
now engaged in: we had besides three free negroes, whom we had
hired in Tripoli as our private servants; Jacob, a Gibraltar Jew,
who was a sort of store-keeper; four men to look after our camels;
and these, with Mr. Hillman and ourselves, made up the number of our
household to thirteen persons. We were also accompanied by several
merchants from Mesurata, Tripoli, Sockna, and Mourzuk, who gladly
embraced the protection of our escort to proceed to the interior
with their merchandize.
The Arabs in the service of the bashaw of Tripoli, by whom we were
to be escorted to Bornou, and on whose good conduct our success
almost wholly depended, were now nearly all assembled, and had been
chosen from the most obedient tribes; they gained considerably in
our good opinion, each day we became better acquainted with them:
they were not only a great and most necessary protection to us,
breaking the ground as we were for any Europeans who might follow
our steps, but enlivened us greatly on our dreary desert way
by their infinite wit and sagacity, as well as by their poetry,
extempore and traditional. We had several amongst our party who
shone as orators in verse, to use the idiom of their own expressive
language, particularly one of the tribe of Boo Saiff Marabooteens,
or gifted persons, who would sing for an hour together, faithfully
describing the whole of our journey for the preceding fortnight,
relating the most trifling occurrence that had happened, even
to the name of the well, and the colour and taste of the water,
with astonishing rapidity and humour, and in very tolerable poetry;
while some of his traditionary ballads were beautiful. The names of
the chiefs who were to accompany us were as follows:—
Of the tribe of M’Garha, Sheikh Abdi Smud ben Erhoma, from the
Syrtis, with seventy men. He often said that his father’s name
was renowned in song, for having killed one hundred men with his
own hand in battle, and please God! he should exceed him, for he
was but thirty-five, and had brought forty to the ground already.
The M’Garhas are at this time in great favour with the bashaw,
and entirely exempt from tribute of any sort, from having assisted
him very materially in annihilating the Waled Suleyman: I must,
therefore, give some account of them.
They principally inhabit the Syrtis, where a considerable body always
remain; tribes of them, with their flocks, pitch their tents for
the months of pasture wherever they can find forage, and in times of
peace even to within a few leagues of Tripoli. When the present bashaw
determined on putting a finishing stroke to the Waled Suleyman, by the
extermination of the tribe, he, like a wily politician, sent offers
of peace and protection to the M’Garha, the ancient and inveterate
enemies of the Seffenusser[7]. In their occasional skirmishes, no
quarter was given; and a Waled Suleyman literally sucked the blood
of a M’Garha, after giving him the finishing blow: children were
even called upon to follow the parent’s example, so that they might
imbibe all the hatred felt by their ancestors, and vice versa. The
tribe of M’Garha readily accepted the bashaw’s offers; and with
their assistance, about six years back, the Waled Suleyman struggled
with the power of the bashaw for the last time. It was near the
borders of Fezzan, in one of those extensive upland plains called
Hormut Mahulla, that the grandsons of Seffenusser, the last of the
house, returned from Egypt, and headed the remaining followers of
their ancestors. The Orfilly, and several other tribes, flocked to
the standard: the M’Garha marched from the eastward to assist the
bashaw, who came from the side of Tripoli; the rebels were surrounded,
and the Orfilly capitulated, promising an enormous tribute. No terms
were, however, granted to the Waled Suleyman; they were followed
with fire and sword to their very huts—Seffenusser’s children
fell into the hands of their enemies; they were, however, spared,
and two of them sent to Mourzuk. Since that time, the name of Waled
Suleyman is scarcely breathed; indeed the tribe has ceased to exist,
with the exception of some few who escaped to Egypt. A solitary
being, who thinks himself unobserved, is sometimes pointed out to
you as having been one; but his misery protects him. So complete
an overthrow of the most numerous tribe that inhabited the regency
of Tripoli, and one whose riches and influence were so well known,
has had the effect of humbling the turbulent spirit of the Arabs to
a wonderful degree: the bashaw rules them literally with a rod of
iron, and for the slightest cause he has the heads of their sheikhs
over the gates of his palace in a few hours. He makes it his policy
to keep up their feuds and ancient enmities, by which means he
prevents that unanimity which might make them dangerous. The name
of Seffenusser is, however, still the tocsin of revolt; it is in
itself a thousand strong; and the bravery displayed by Abdi Zeleel,
the eldest survivor of the name, during the late campaign in the
negro country, has not a little contributed to strengthen the feeling.
Abdallah Bougeel, a chief and a warrior, from the Shiati, whose
father and grandfather died because they would not fly; who never
attended to flocks, but were chief in fight—twenty men.
Sheikh Sultan ben Kaid, from the Shiati, a great warrior, who had
a terrible wound in his face, which had nearly demolished his nose,
from the sword of a Tuarick—ten men.
Hamed el Geide, Shiati—ten men.
Hamed Bendou el Hothmani, Shiati—ten men.
Sheikh Boo Bucker Saakhi, Shiati—ten men.
Salem Asheneen Hashnuowy, Shiati—thirty men.
The Maraboot Sid Hassan ben Eran—ten men.
Il R’baiah—ten men.
Boo Ahgoom, Osfilly—twenty men.
Futhaem—ten men.
Arabs are generally thin meagre figures, though possessing expressive
and sometimes handsome features, great violence of gesture and
muscular action. Irritable and fiery, they are unlike the dwellers
in towns and cities: noisy and loud, their common conversational
intercourse appears to be a continual strife and quarrel; they are,
however, brave, eloquent, and deeply sensible of shame. I have
known an Arab of the lower class refuse his food for days together,
because in a skirmish his gun had missed fire: to use his own words,
“Gulbi wahr,” “My heart aches;” “Bindikti kedip hashimtni
gedam el naz;” “My gun lied, and shamed me before the people.”
Much has been said of their want of cleanliness; I should, however,
without hesitation, pronounce them to be much more cleanly than
the lower order of people in any European country. Circumcision,
and the shaving the hair from the head, and every other part of the
body; the frequent ablutions which their religion compels them to
perform; all tend to enforce practices of cleanliness. Vermin, from
the climate of their country, they, as well as every other person,
must be annoyed with; and although the lower ranks have not the means
of frequently changing their covering (for it scarcely can be called
apparel), yet they endeavour to free themselves as much as possible
from the persecuting vermin. Their mode of dress has undergone no
change for centuries back; and the words of Fenelon will at this
day apply with equal truth to their present appearance[8].
The fondness of an Arab for traditional history of the most
distinguished actions of their remote ancestors is proverbial:
professed story-tellers are ever the appendages to a man of rank:
his friends will assemble before his tent, or on the platforms with
which the houses of the Moorish Arabs are roofed, and there listen,
night after night, to a continued history for sixty, or sometimes
one hundred nights together. It is a great exercise of genius,
and a peculiar gift, held in high estimation amongst them. They
have a quickness and clearness of delivery, with a perfect command
of words, surprising to a European ear: they never hesitate, are
never at a loss; their descriptions are highly poetical, and their
relations exemplified by figure and metaphor, the most striking and
appropriate: their extempore songs are also full of fire, and possess
many beautiful and happy similes. Certain tribes are celebrated for
this gift of extempore speaking and singing; the chiefs cultivate
the propensity in their children; and it is often possessed, to an
astonishing degree, by men who are unable either to read or write.
Arabic songs go to the heart, and excite greatly the passions: I have
seen a circle of Arabs straining their eyes with a fixed attention
at one moment, and bursting with loud laughter; at the next, melting
into tears, and clasping their hands in all the ecstacy of grief
and sympathy.
Their attachment to pastoral life is ever favourable to love. Many
of these children of the desert possess intelligence and feeling,
which belong not to the savage; accompanied by an heroic courage,
and a thorough contempt of every mode of gaining their livelihood,
except by the sword and gun. An Arab values himself chiefly on his
expertness in arms and horsemanship, and on hospitality.
Hospitality was ever habitual to them. At this day, the greatest
reproach to an Arab tribe is, “that none of their men have the
heart to give, nor their women to deny.” Nor does this feeling of
liberality alone extend to the chiefs, or Arabs of high birth: I have
known the poor and wandering Bedouin to practise a degree of charity
and hospitality far beyond his means, from a sense of duty alone.
Notwithstanding all the savageness of an Arab, there are sometimes
noble thoughts which seem to cross over his powerful mind; and then
again to leave him choked up with weeds of too strong a growth to
be rooted out.
The M’Garha sheikhs were, after the defeat of Waled Suleyman,
all taken into the bashaw’s service; and are now amongst his most
faithful and favoured followers. Abdi Zeleel ben Seffenusser, upon
his submission, had been assigned some portion of his grandsire’s
extensive lands at Sebha in Fezzan; and on his being ordered to
repair with a certain number of camels to Mourzuk, and to accompany
the Sultan of Fezzan into the negro country, he was reported to have
delayed obeying the order: his enemies attributed his reluctance to
disaffection and want of courage. The bashaw’s judgment was summary;
and Hamet Ghreneim, the brother of my chaoush, was despatched with
a letter to Abdi Zeleel, and orders to stab him while he read it,
and return with his head. The M’Garha had five hundred miles
to ride, previous to executing his bloody commission; and, by his
account to me, it was the sixteenth of the same kind that he had
been intrusted with: he seldom failed either in the execution or
in receiving the reward, which always follows: “they were his
master’s orders—with Bis milla! (in God’s name) he struck,
and struck home!” His victim, in this case, was of more consequence
than any of his former ones, and his reward would have been greater
in proportion: Hamet was withal the descendant of the old enemy
of his clan; but there was still some magic in the name of the
Seffenusser. They were a race of heroes—cowardice could not be a
crime for any of the blood to be guilty of; and the chance of being
strangled on his return appeared to him preferable to assassinating
Abdi Zeleel, and he determined on hesitating before he executed
the bashaw’s orders. On arriving at the hut of the Arab chief,
notwithstanding his fallen state, friends enough remained to warn
him of his approaching fate: he met Hamet at the door, kissed the
signet of the bashaw, and desired him to perform his office; adding,
“You are a M’Garha, and an enemy to our house.” “I am,”
replied the other, “and therefore not capable of assassinating a
Seffenusser: if you are guilty, fly—mine be the risk.”
Cowardice is ever visited in an Arab by the most disgraceful
punishments; he is often bound, and led through the huts of the whole
tribe, with the bowels and offal of a bullock, or some other animal,
tied round his head; and amongst a people who only desire to be
rich in order to increase the number of their wives, probably the
greatest punishment of all is, that could even any woman be found
who would receive him as a husband, which would be an extraordinary
circumstance, no Arab would allow him to enter into his family with
such a stain on his character as cowardice.
The _amor patriæ_ discoverable in even the wildest inhabitant
of the most barren rock is not felt by the wandering Arab, or the
Moor. He wanders from pasture to pasture, from district to district,
without any local attachment; and his sole delight is a roving,
irregular, but martial life. I have met with several, mostly Moors
of Mesurata and Sockna, who have made three times the pilgrimage to
Mecca; visited severally all the ports in the Red Sea; had been in
Syria, from St. Jean d’Acre to Antioch; had traded to Smyrna and
Constantinople, visiting Cyprus, Rhodes, and most of the islands in
the Archipelago; had penetrated to the west of Nyffe, in Soudan,
and every other part of the black country; had been two or three
times stripped and robbed of every thing in the Negro country,
escaping only with life, after receiving several wounds. Some of
them had not seen their families for fifteen or twenty years, yet
were still planning new expeditions, with as much glee as if they
were just beginning life, instead of tottering on the brink of death.
Arabs have always been commended by the ancients for the fidelity of
their attachments, and they are still scrupulously exact to their
words, and respectful to their kindred; they have been universally
celebrated for their quickness of apprehension and penetration, and
the vivacity of their wit. Their language is certainly one of the most
ancient in the world; but it has many dialects. The Arabs, however,
have their vices and their defects; they are naturally addicted to
war, bloodshed, and cruelty; and so malicious as scarcely ever to
forget an injury.
Their frequent robberies committed on traders and travellers, have
rendered the name of an Arab almost infamous in Europe. Amongst
themselves, however, they are most honest, and true to the rites
of hospitality; and towards those whom they receive as friends into
their camp, every thing is open, and nothing ever known to be stolen:
enter but once into the tent of an Arab, and by the pressure of his
hand he ensures you protection, at the hazard of his life. An Arab
is ever true to his bread and salt; once eat with him, and a knot
of friendship is tied which cannot easily be loosened.
Arabs have been truly described as a distinct class of mankind. In
the bashaw’s dominions, they have never been entirely subdued:
violent attempts at subjugation have often deprived them of tracts
of their vast territories; whole tribes have been annihilated; but,
as a people, they have ever remained independent and free.
The few fertile spots of scanty verdure, called “oases,” which
now and then refresh the languid senses of the weary traveller, and
which are desolate, beyond the wildest wastes of European land, are
the tracts inhabited by the eastern Arabs. Masses of conglomerated
sand obstruct the path which leads to these oases or wadeys; nothing
relieves the eye, as it stretches over the wide expanse, except where
the desert scene is broken by a chain of bleak and barren mountains:
no cooling breezes freshen the air: the sun descends in overpowering
force: the winds scorch as they pass; and bring with them billows
of sand, rolling along in masses frightfully suffocating, which
sometimes swallow up whole caravans and armies, burying them in
their pathless depths!
“Their hapless fate unknown!”
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Benioleed, a rich valley, bounded on all sides by whitish
brown hills, capped in many places with green stone and amygdaloid,
or vesicular lava, rugged villages, and ruinous castles, on every
point, some overtopping the columnar green stone, and scarcely
distinguishable from it.
The hills possess a very interesting structure. The height does not
exceed 400 feet, and limestone is the prevailing rock. On the north
side the whole of the range, till within a mile of the western
extremity, is limestone: at that point above the limestone is a
thick bed of columnar greenstone, with thick layers of vesicular lava.
On the southern side, most of the hills have their tops covered with
lava and columnar green stone, and have a structure similar to that
of the one I have delineated. A little difference is here and there
observable, but not so much as to be worthy of notice. The tops of
the hills on this side form an extensive, black, dreary-looking plain,
strewed over with loose stones, extending eastwardly as far as the eye
can discern. The upper, or, as I would call it, the lavaceous crust,
appears as if a layer left by a flowing fluid, and therefore of more
recent formation than the rock on which it rests. This is seldom
more than a few feet in thickness, and spread over the subjacent rock.
The rocks dip in various directions, but generally at an angle
of 18°.
The Jibel Gulat is one of the highest hills we have yet come to. It
is about six hundred feet high: its top is tabular, and its sides
exceedingly rugged, from an amazing number of detached pieces. The
lowest exposed stratum is a calcareous tufa, containing, or indeed
almost formed of sea-shells; the most abundant are a species of oyster
and limpet, in a very entire state. Above, beds of soft carbonate of
lime, like whiting, and falling into dust on the slightest touch,
and in which is imbedded a large quantity of lamellar calcareous
spar. Above, and apparently extending to the summit, tolerably
fine marble. The quantity of debris, and the size and appearance of
the masses, might make one believe that an earthquake had been the
cause of that rent state; but it appears to me more probable that
the undermining, by the mouldering of the soft stratum underneath,
accounts well for the state and appearance of the side of the
hill. The hill is about three miles long, and runs from east to
west. It is inhabited by a solitary family; a man, his wife, and
several children. We were told that he had resided in this dreary
and barren place for eleven years, and it is said lives chiefly
by plunder.
Near Niffud, the hills are of lime, and in structure and form not
unlike those of the Tarhona range.
In the vicinity of the long range there are a number of small
conical hills, of a soft whiting-like substance, appearing as if
recently thrown up, although, from every thing around, that is not
at all probable. The range runs parallel to that near the coast;
but we had no opportunity of determining how far it extends to the
eastward and westward. There are several passes, into one of which
we entered. It is rugged, from the number of masses that have fallen
from the sides of the hills. Several tumuli of stones are observable,
marking the burial-places of unfortunate travellers, who have been
murdered here, it was said, by large rocks rolled from the overhanging
heights. When I was examining the rocks, in the dry bed of a river,
these monuments were pointed out, to make me aware my presence
there was not free from danger. This led to a valley, with some
thick groves of acacias, and a plant like a mespilus, with pleasant
small astringent berries: it is called by the natives butomo. From
this we passed over a low hill, into the valley Niffud. This valley
has been the seat of much fighting, as our conductors informed us,
among the Arabs of different tribes.
We left the valley, by a pass to the southward, and entered an
extensive plain, named Ambulum: in this we travelled the whole
day. The surface, in some places, a firm sand, with here and there
rocky eminences, and patches of gravel: the latter was fine, and
mixed with fragments of shells. Often, for a considerable extent,
not the least vestige of vegetation; and in no place was the ground
completely covered, except in a few small oases, where there was a
species of grass, of the genus festuca. The feniculum duter, and a
beautiful genista, which extends all the way from the coast, were
common. The butum occurred in abundance, and its shade was a defence
to us at times. We found some beautiful fragments of striped jasper,
and some small pieces of cornelian.
Bonjem.—We had no opportunity of examining any of these; but
from the strewed masses they appear to be limestone. The wadey
of Bonjem has characters different from any of the other valleys
we have passed through. This valley is strewed over with gypsum
in different states, with numerous shells, of the genus pecten,
and several terebrellæ. There are here and there sand, and many
incrustations of the carbonate, mixed with crystals of the sulphate,
of lime, that gives to the surface a shining white appearance, which,
in place of being pleasing, is disagreeable, by the power of the
reflected light. There are small ranges of low hills, composed of
soft white chalk (whiting), covered with a crust of gypsum. In this
structure we found one large pit, about forty feet deep, and nearly
as much in diameter. These low hills are bounded by much higher,
and of a dark brown colour: the low hills are numerous, some are
separate, but in general they are in short ridges, and have, at
a distance, very much the appearance of fortifications. A small
senecio, a geranium, and a statice, were the principal beings of
the vegetable creation. Barometer 30.020. temperature 72.
Near the wells, the _arundo phragmites_ grows in abundance; it has
long creeping roots, the first true roots of that kind I have seen
in North Africa. Plants of this kind would soon make considerable
encroachments on the desert, and render habitable where it is
difficult even to travel over. This quarter is poor in the grasses,
for I think I have not seen above eight different kinds. Our course
was among sand-hills, and over a gravelly road, strewed with masses
of common opal, with small portions of botroidal iron ore, and thick
layers of gypsum, with their edges appearing above ground. The low
hills presented the same features as those near which we remained
in the wadey: one, detached on the road, had a curious appearance,
and was called, by the natives, “The Bowl of Bazeen.” It is
about forty feet high, and formed above of a calcareous crust,
with sulphate of lime, and below of soft chalk.
The higher ridge was observable on each side of us, running
south-south-east on the east side, and south-south-west on the west:
some of those to the westward have detached hills, and one has the
name of the “Salt Hill.” W. O.]
[Footnote 2: Captain Lyon’s travelling name.]
[Footnote 3: This is only called jaafa when a bride is conveyed in
it—at other times a caramood.]
[Footnote 4: Gibel Assoud and the hills on this side have the same
name. The valley is bounded on both sides by hills, from 400 to 600
feet high—tops in general tabular; but a few are irregular, and
two or three end in conical peaks; the sides of all are covered with
much debris. The colour of the hills gives a very peculiar character
to the valley; the tops of a shining black, as if covered over with
black lead, that often extends some way down the sides, which are of
a light brown, mixed with a dirty yellow: this is often observable
in patches in the black, which gives to the whole a very striking
appearance. The lower strata are limestone, of a yellowish colour,
almost entirely formed of marine remains: this, although hard, is
easily acted on by the air, and the exposed surface mouldering away
leaves cavities in the rock, which, undermining the superincumbent
ones, gives rise to the quantity of detached fragments. There are
several thin strata of earthy gypsum: above that, limestone, with
a fine fibrous-looking external surface, something like wood: this
has the jingling sound of burnt lime; above is the shining basalt,
of a fine texture, mixed with amygdaloid.
About six miles from where we halted, are a range of low white hills,
running about west by north, of the same name as the plains. The
top is a fine shining white, from thick beds of a milk-white marble,
the base of porphyritic limestone. W. O.]
[Footnote 5: The hills of Zeghren opened: a low range, running
nearly east and west; their appearance different from any we had
yet seen, long, oval, and truncated at the top—colour black,
with white streaks.
About the same time a detached rock came in view: it was about a
hundred feet high, and 200 from the land from which we descended.
This is the geological structure of the neighbouring land, which
has at no very distant period been joined to this. W. O.]
[Footnote 6: The mother of peace.]
[Footnote 7: The name of their sheikh or chief; also often used when
speaking of the tribe.]
[Footnote 8: Leurs habits sont aisés à faire, car en ce doux
climat on ne porte qu’une piece d’étoffe fine et lègère,
qui n’est point taillée et que chacun met à longs plis autour
de son corps pour la modestie; lui donnant la forme qu’il veut.]
EXCURSION TO WESTWARD OF MOURZUK,
IN JUNE, JULY, AND AUGUST, 1822,
BY WALTER OUDNEY, M.D.
* * * * *
Saturday, June 8, 1822.—At a little after sunrise departed
from Mourzuk. Lieutenant Clapperton, Mr. William Hillman and I
were accompanied by Hadje Ali, brother of Ben Bucher, Ben Khullum,
Mahommed Neapolitan Mamelouk, and Mahomet, son of our neighbour Hadje
Mahmud. It was our intention to have proceeded direct to Ghraat,
and laboured hard to accomplish our object. Obstacle after obstacle
was thrown in our way, by some individuals in Mourzuk. Several came
begging us not to go, as the road was dangerous, and the people
not at all under the bashaw’s control. We at length hired camels
from a Targee, Hadje Said; but only to accompany us as far as the
Wadey Ghrurby.
Our course was over sands skirted with date trees; ground strewed
with fragments of calcareous crust, with a vitreous surface, from
exposure to the weather. About mid-day, after an exhausting journey
from oppressive heat, we arrived at El Hummum, a straggling village,
the houses of which are mostly constructed of palm leaves. We remained
till the sun was well down, and then proceeded on our course. The
country had the same character. At eight we arrived at Tessouwa.
The greater number of inhabitants are Tuaricks. They have a
warlike appearance, a physiognomy and costume different from the
Fezzaneers. More than a dozen muzzled up faces were seated near our
tent, with every one’s spear stuck in the ground before him. This
struck us forcibly, from being very different from what we had been
accustomed to see. The Arab is always armed, in his journey, with
his long gun and pistols; but there is something more imposing in
the spear, dagger, and broad straight sword.
About eight, we departed: several wadeys in our course, with numerous
small acacias, a few gravelly and sandy plains, and two or three
low white alluvial hills. About three, halted at a well of good water.
Our course lay over an extensive high plain, with a long range
of hills, running nearly east and west. Distance, about fourteen
miles. We entered them by a pass which runs north and south, in
which are numerous recesses, evidently leading to more extensive
wadeys. Before reaching the hills, we found some people digging a
well. It was about a hundred feet deep.
The hills are at about a hundred yards’ distance. Their form
is that of a table top, with a peak here and there. The structure
sandstone, finely stratified with beds of blue and white pipeclay,
and alum slate.
The pass led to another, the finest we have seen, and the only part
approaching to the sublime we have beheld in Fezzan. It is rugged
and narrow; its sides high, and overhanging in some places. The
whole exposed rock is a slaty sandstone, with thin strata of alum
slate. The path has several trunks of petrified trees, with branches
going out from them; the stem very similar to the acacia. They
appear as if precipitated from the top. Near the end of the pass,
the Wadey Ghrurby opens, with groves of date palms, and high sand
hills. The change is sudden and striking; and instead of taking away,
added to the effect of the pass we were descending. The hills from
the wadey have rugged, irregular, peaked tops, as if produced by
some powerful cause; although it appeared, on examination, that all
was produced by the mouldering away of the lower strata.
The hills are composed of thick beds of blue clay, alternating with
sandstone, beds of alum slate, and thick strata of porphyritic clay
stone, and all the tops of finely stratified sandstone.
Wednesday, June 12. Moved up the valley for about four miles,
and halted at a small town, Kharaik, having passed two in our
course. Valley, fine groves of palm trees, with cultivated patches;
water good, depth of the wells as about Mourzuk; hills bound the
valley on the south side, and sand hills on the north. The number
of date trees in the eastern and western division of the valley is
said to be 340,000. The first division, or Wadey Shirgi, extends
from near Seba to within a few miles of Thirtiba; the other, from
the termination of Shirgi to Aubari.
In the evening saw some of the preparatory steps for a marriage. The
woman belonged to this, and the man to the next town. A band of
musicians, accompanied by all the women of the village, dancing and
singing, with every now and then a volley of musketry. One woman
carried a basket on her head, for the purpose of collecting gomah,
to form a feast and pay the musicians. They came from the village
of the bridegroom, which was about a mile distant. The marriage was
not to take place till the feast after Rhamadan.
There are very few plants here. A species of asclepias, with
milky juice; the agoul, apparently a species of ulex, has a fine
red papilionaceous flower; species, with small obovate leaves,
pod small and obtuse at the apex. A species of sweet-smelling rue,
and two other plants in fruit, one like a veronica, and the other
I have not seen a similar one before.
Friday, June 14. Rain sometimes falls in the valley, sufficient
to overflow the surface, and form mountain torrents. But it has no
regular periods; five, eight, and nine years frequently intervening
between each time. Thus no trust can be placed in the occurrence of
rain, and no application made in agricultural concerns. The sheikh
of this town is Ali, a good natured Tiboo, exceedingly poor, but
very attentive, and always in good humour. The place is so poor,
that we had sometimes to wait half a day before we could get a
couple of fowls, or a feed of dates or barley for our horses. We
are in hourly expectation of camels from friends of Hateeta, for
the purpose of conveying us to Ghraat.
There are a number of ants, of a species different from any I have
seen in North Africa. Colour, a light shining brown, speckled with
a silvery white, a strong pair of nippers, like the large claws of
a crab. They run with great swiftness.
Saturday, June 15. No camels have arrived, and we are obliged
to remain; much against our inclination. Hateeta was conversing
yesterday on the difficulty we experienced in getting away from
Mourzuk, from obstacles thrown in our way by the people. He said
that the dread they had of the Tuaricks was unfounded, and we
would soon be convinced of it. He further added, that he could,
by his influence alone, conduct us in perfect safety to Timbuctoo,
and would answer with his head. He was indignant at the feelings
the people of Mourzuk had against the Tuaricks, who, he said, pride
themselves in having but one word, and performing what they promise.
Sunday, June 16. Our camels have not yet arrived; but we were able to
hire two from one Mahomet El Buin, and with these we proceeded on to
Germa. Our course lay along the wadey, which grew finer and finer as
we advanced, the number of gummah and gussub fields and date groves
increasing. The hills formed some small recesses; the tops of most
were level, and all of the same height. Passed several villages built
all in the same manner. Notwithstanding the nearness and fitness of
the stone, the salt mould is preferred; perhaps from the want of lime,
and the ease with which the house is erected. Another thing: so very
little rain falls, that there is no danger of the fabric falling. Near
Break passed some imperfect inscriptions, apparently Arabic.
About eleven arrived at Germa, a larger town than any in the wadey,
but both walls and houses have the marks of time. We waited in the
house of the kaid till our camels came up. The sheikh, Mustapha
ben Ussuf, soon visited us. He is an old man, a Fezzaneer, dark
complexion, arch of nose small, tip depressed, and alæ expanded,
lips a little thick, but mouth not large, hair black, and from the
appearance of the beard, woolly. His ancestors are natives of this
place; and his features may be considered as characteristic of the
natives of Fezzan.
Monday, June 17. We had many accounts of inscriptions being here,
which the people could not read. We were conducted to-day by Sheikh
Mustapha to examine a building, different, as he stated, from any
in the country. When we arrived, we found, to our satisfaction,
it was a structure which had been erected by the Romans.
There were no inscriptions to be found, although we carefully turned
up a number of the stones strewed about, but a few figures and letters
rudely hewn out, and evidently of recent date. We imagined we could
trace some resemblance to the letters of Europe, and conjectured that
they had been hewn out by some European traveller at no very distant
period. Our thoughts naturally went back to Hornemann; but again we
had no intelligence of his having been here. In short, to confess the
truth, we did not know what to make of them, till we afterwards made
the discovery of the Targee writing. This building is about twelve
feet high, and eight broad. It is built of sandstone, well finished,
and dug from the neighbouring hills. Its interior is solid, and of
small stones, cemented by mortar. It stands about three miles from
Germa, and a quarter of a mile from the foot of the mountain. It
is either a tomb or an altar: those well acquainted with Roman
architecture, will easily determine which. The finding a structure
of these people proves, without doubt, their intercourse here. It is
probable they had no extensive establishment; otherwise we should see
more remains. As we went along we passed by, and saw to the westward,
the remains of ancient Germa. It appeared to occupy a space more
extensive than the present town. We were not able to learn from the
old sheikh whether any old coins were ever found, or any building
similar to this, in the vicinity. Was this the track merely of the
Romans into the interior, or did they come to the valley for dates?
Tuesday, June 18. Hateeta arrived during the night; but our departure
was delayed on account of his being sick. He has a severe fever,
and it is likely it may be of some continuance. The ague is very
prevalent in the wadey; and, if we can believe the natives, the water
is a very powerful agent in inducing bilious affection. The town
is surrounded by a ditch, now nearly dry, and its site covered with
a thick crust of the muriate of soda, evidently containing a large
quantity of the muriate and sulphate of magnesia. This crust extends
to a considerable distance from the town, and is five or six inches
thick in several places. There are several wells, not two feet deep,
containing excellent water. The date trees are close to the vicinity
of the town, and most are heavily loaded with fruit. It is lamentable
to see the number of houses in ruin, and the marks of poverty in
the dress of the inhabitants. We could scarcely get a fowl to buy;
and a sheep was out of the question.
Wednesday, June 19. Struck our tents at daylight, and commenced our
journey about seven. We now sent our horses home, under charge of my
servant Adam, and set out on foot. We intended mounting the camels;
but the loads were so ill arranged, that we could not venture as
yet. Our course lay through groves of date trees growing on the salt
plain. These extended for about four miles; and two miles farther
west was a small Arab town. We saw several of the Arabs as we passed
along; but merely gave the usual compliments. The country for several
miles was a loose sand, and heavy travelling for those on foot. The
hills of the same shape, forming several large bays, with projecting
headlands; the sides, to within fifty or sixty feet of the top,
having gentle but rugged ascents; but above almost perpendicular. We
passed three wells, one about fifty feet deep, temp. 22. 6. at which
two women were watering goats belonging to Tuaricks. The other two
were holes in the ground; the water of all good. We halted about
an hour under the shades of date trees, waiting for the camels. I
then mounted, and about three, entered the date groves of Oubari,
where we halted. Hateeta joined us in the evening, with considerable
fever. We had numerous Tuarick visitors, some residents of the town,
and others belonging to a kafila about to depart for the Tuarick
country. They are an independent-looking race. They examine with
care every thing they see, and are not scrupulous in asking for
different articles, such as tobacco, powder, and flints. The sheikh,
and a number of the other inhabitants of the town, soon came out;
and he procured what we wished.
Thursday, June 20.—Intended starting this morning; but the
camel-men did not come forward with their camels. Hateeta still
very ill. Took advantage of our detention to visit the neighbouring
hills. One part appeared at a distance as an artificial excavation,
which disappeared as we approached; and we found it to be a smooth
surface, with a portion so removed, as to give rise to the delusion.
In ascending this by the tract of a mountain torrent, we fell in
with numerous inscriptions, in characters similar to those on the
Roman building. Some were evidently done centuries ago, others
very recently.
The hill is of fine sandstone, which has not been used for
building. There are also several thick strata of a fine blue clay,
containing embedded masses of iron ore. The summit is formed of
a dark bluish red clay stone, which gives a dreary cast to the
hills. We ascended with difficulty, as it is one of the highest and
steepest hills of the range. It commands an extensive view of the
whole neighbouring wadey. The sand hills are much lower than to the
eastward; and, from this position, all to the northward appears an
extensive sandy plain.
The palms of Oubari are like paltry shrubs; and from viewing them
here, one would not believe them to be half 7000, the estimated
number. To the southward, another portion of the same range. When we
got to the top, we were perspiring copiously, and had to take care
that the perspiration was not checked too suddenly, as a strong
cool breeze was blowing on the top. Many spaces were cleared away
for prayer, in the same manner as we have observed in places on all
the roads we have travelled along. The form in general is an oblong
square, with a small recess in one of the longer sides looking to
the rising sun, or it is semicircular, with a similar recess. On the
top of a steep precipice, the King’s Anthem was sung with great
energy and taste by Hillman.
The new moon was seen this evening, to the great joy of all the
followers of Mahomet. Muskets and pistols were discharged, and all the
musicians began their labours. This sport was continued all night. A
party of musicians came out to visit us; but several were so drunk
that they could scarcely walk. The fast is kept by all with a bad
grace; and scarcely one is to be seen who has not a long visage. It
is even laughable to see some young men going about the streets with
long walking sticks, leaning forward like a man bent with age. As
soon as the maraboot calls, not a person is to be seen in the streets;
all commence, as soon as he pronounces “Allah Akbar;” all pretend
to keep it; and if they do not, they take care no one shall know:
but from the wry faces and great pharasaical shows, the rigidity
may be called in question. None of our party kept it, except for a
day now and then; for all travellers after the first day are allowed
exemption; but they have to make up at some other time.
For the first time, we found out the writings on the rocks were
Tuarick; and we met one man that knew a few of the letters; but could
not find one that knew all. The information was satisfactory to us,
and put our minds to rest on the subject of the writing.
We were amused with stories of the great powers of eating of the
Tuaricks. We were told that two men have consumed three sheep at one
meal; another eating a kail of bruised dates, with a corresponding
quantity of milk, and another eating about a hundred loaves, of about
the size of our penny loaves. We had many inquiries respecting our
females. A notion prevailed, that they always bore more than one child
at a time, and that they went longer than nine calendar months. On
being told that they were the same in that respect as other women,
they appeared pleased. We were also asked how they were kept; if
locked up as the Moorish woman, or allowed to go freely abroad. The
Tuarick women are allowed great liberties that way, and are not a
little pleased at having such an advantage.
The greater number of Tuaricks follow the nomade life, moving from
place to place as they find pasturage. They appear to delight in
solitary abodes; and the different mountain recesses in the vicinity
appear to have been often the residences of these people. The houses
are of the skin of the camel, and have something of the form of
the Arab.
I had a great many female Tuarick patients to-day. They are free
and lively; and there is no more restraint before men than in the
females of our own country; and they are greatly noticed by the
men. They have a copper complexion; eyes large, black, and rolling;
nose plain; but two or three had fine ancient Egyptian shaped noses;
hair long and shedded, not plaited like the Arab women; neither did
there appear to be any oil.
Tuesday, June 25.—There are several roads to Ghraat; and the upper
one, where we had to enter the hills, was last night fixed on for
us. There is plenty of water, but more rough than the lower, which
is said to be a sandy plain, as level as the hand, but no water for
five days.
It is not necessary among the Tuaricks that the woman should bring
a portion to the husband, although she generally brings something:
but it is almost always requisite that the man pay so much to the
father for permission to marry his daughter. The price, when the
parties are rich, is generally six camels.
The customs and manners of our country, which we related to our
friends, were so similar to some of theirs, that an old Targee
exclaimed in a forcible manner, “That he was sure they had the
same origin as us.” We are getting on amazingly well with them,
and would, no doubt, soon be great friends. The women here have full
round faces, black curling hair, and, from a Negro mixture, inclined
to be crispy; eyebrows a little arched, eyes black and large, nose
plain and well-formed. The dress, a barracan neatly wrapped round,
with a cover of dark blue cloth for the head; sometimes that comes
over the lower part of the face as in the men. They are not very fond
of beads, but often have shells suspended to the ears as ear-drops.
Thursday, June 27. Hateeta is really so unwell, that he is not
able to go; we in consequence have put off our departure for ten
days, and have determined during that time to visit wadey Shiati,
&c.; and Mr. Hillman goes up to Mourzuk to send down supplies and
take charge of our property. It would have been unkind to Hateeta
to have proceeded on; for he is so anxious, that, rather than be
left behind, he would have ordered himself to have been bound to
a camel. We arranged about the fare for our camels, and prepared
ourselves to depart to-morrow morning. We left our spare baggage,
which our Tuaricks deposited in one of their mountain recesses.
Friday, June 28.—Before we could set out, a guide for the sands was
necessary. For that purpose we engaged an old Targee, who professed
to know every part of our tract. When all things were ready, it was
near eight in the evening; but we were determined to start. Now
Mr. Hillman left us for Mourzuk, I felt glad and satisfied, as I
had always since our departure been uneasy respecting our property;
but with Hillman every thing would be taken care of, and as safe
as if we were all present. The interest he took in the mission,
and the important duty in taking care of all our concerns, deserve
the highest praise from every one.
We travelled by moonlight over a sandy soil, with numerous tufts of
grass and mound hillocks, covered with shrubs, the surface in many
places hard and crusty, from saline incrustation. The old man told
us that the mounds of earth were formed by water, as the wadey,
at the times of great rain, was covered with water. He further
added, that in former times a large quantity of rain used to fall,
information agreeing with what we had before received.
Saturday, June 29.—At daylight resumed our journey; and a little
after sunrise entered among the sand hills, which are here two or
three hundred feet high. The ascending and descending of these proved
very fatiguing to both our camels and ourselves. The precipitous
sides obliged us often to make a circuitous course, and rendered it
necessary to form with the hands a tract by which the camels might
ascend. Beyond this boundary of the sand hills of the wadey Ghrurbi,
there is an extensive sandy plain, with here and there tufts of
grass. We observed, for the first time, a plant with leaves like
those of an equisetum, and a triginious grass.
In the afternoon our tract was on the same plain. There were
observable several furrows with strips of grass in tufts. Near sunset
began ascending high sand hills; they were as if one heaped upon
another. Our guide ran before to endeavour to find out the easiest
tract with all the agility of a boy. The presence of nothing but deep
sandy valleys and high sand hills strikes the mind forcibly. There
is something of the sublime mixed with the melancholy. Who can
contemplate without admiration masses of loose sand, fully four
hundred feet high, ready to be tossed about by every breeze, and not
shudder with horror at the idea of the unfortunate traveller being
entombed in a moment by one of those fatal blasts, which sometimes
occur. On the top of one of these hills we halted for the night. It
was near full moon. Her silvery rays, contrasted with the golden
hue of the sand, and the general stillness, gave rise to a diversity
of reflections.
Sunday, June 30.—At sunrise began our journey through valleys of
sand, bounded on each side, and every where intersected by high
sand hills. We had to pass over several of these, to our great
annoyance. Our water was low, half a gerba only was left, and we
began to be a little uneasy at the chance of losing our way, or the
well being filled up. Our fears were soon removed. We saw the well
at a distance, and found it full of good water on our arrival. The
name of the valley is Tigidafa. Much of the equisetum-leaved plant
grows here, and four or five date trees overshadow the well.
We halted during the heat of the day. The Mamelouk very unwell with
ague and affection of the liver, probably arising from the want of
his usual quantity of sour lackbi. In Mourzuk we were told he used
to drink all he could procure.
About four we moved along the summits of several of the highest
ridges, and descended some of the most difficult passes. About
sunset arrived at a large plain, with a little feeding for the
camels. Here we halted. The grasses have long tapering roots, but
not finely divided into fibres; each fibre descends perpendicularly,
and does not creep along the surface. It is covered with a fine
velvety epidermis, and that again with fine particles of sand, so
as to give it the appearance and elasticity of twine finely coiled
up. None of the plants I saw had creeping roots, but all long and
tapering; thus forming but a weak barrier to the fixing of the sand.
Tuesday, July 2.—Our course over and among the sand hills, and
sandy walls, or barriers, like falls in a river, every here and
there running across the valleys. Our guide, whom we now styled
Mahomet ben Raml, or son of the sand, was almost always on before,
endeavouring to find out the best way. We could detect in the sand
numerous foot-marks of the jackal and fox, and here and there a
solitary antelope. In some of the wadeys there were a great many
fragments of the ostrich egg. Clapperton and Mahomet ben Hadje
went a long way out of the tract. They followed the footsteps of
some camels, and went on ahead of us. Our road lay in a different
direction from theirs: we were therefore separated a considerable
distance from each other. When we saw no appearance of them we
halted, and sent the servants in search. The moment was trying:
they were in the midst of sand hills, without provisions or water;
but, luckily, it was not long; our searchers soon detected them
from the heights. About mid-day halted in a valley, and remained
under the shade of some date trees for a few hours. Set out again
in the afternoon. The heat was oppressive, and our travelling was
difficult. We next came to an extensive level plain, which was
some refreshment; for we were completely tired of ascending and
descending sand hills. Our servants strayed; they went on a tract
which was pointed out to them as the right one, and, before we were
aware of the error, they went so far that we were not able to send
after them. They, as well as ourselves, thought the town was near,
and they went with the intention of getting in before us. We felt
exceedingly uneasy respecting them, as they might so easily lose
themselves in such intricate travelling. We halted in low spirits,
and, after a little refreshment, went to sleep with heavy hearts.
Wednesday, July 3.—Strong breeze in the night. Our trunks and
bedclothes were all covered with sand in the morning. We heard
nothing of our servants, and consoled ourselves that they had found
some place before now. We commenced our journey early. The hills of
wadey Shiati were seen stretching east and west, and the date palms
in several groves; but between us and them some high sand hills
were seen. We wished our old guide to take us a more direct course,
as we conceived; but, notwithstanding our desire and even threats,
he persevered in having his way; and, to do the old man justice,
we afterwards found it would have been almost impossible for the
camels to have gone the way we wished. After passing the base of
some high sand hills, we came to a stony pass, of gentle descent,
covered with loose fragments of quartz rock, a yellowish feltspar,
and iron ore, very similar to the rocks in the Sebah district. From
this place the town opened to our view. It is erected on a hill about
three hundred feet high. This stands in the middle of the valley
nearly, and has the appearance, at a distance, of a hill studded
over with basaltic columns. I had no idea the town was built on the
hill, and, consequently, that the deception was produced by it. The
approach from this side is over large plains of salt, and through
fields of gomah and date groves. The different divisions of the
fields did not appear to us so neat as near other towns; but that
may be owing to the grain having mostly been cut and all in. There
is no necessity here for wells, as there are a number of springs
near the surface that open into large basins, from which channels
are cut to the different fields. Temperature of the water 30 cent.;
but the basins are so exposed, and so large, that the temperature
of the water is influenced by the soil and sun’s rays.
The soil is dark, and mixed with a large quantity of salt. In the
salt plain here there are a number of small conical hills, the base
composed of pipeclay, above that of a fine grained yellow sandstone,
and the top a conglomerate, the principal ingredient of which is
ironstone.
The most of the inhabitants soon visited us, and all appeared
pleased at our arrival. The kadi of the two neighbouring towns paid
us many compliments, and pressed us hard to spend a few days in his
towns. We could not take advantage of his offer, which was no doubt
of a selfish nature; for I had not conversed long with him before
he began to beg a shirt. I told him mine could be of no use to him,
as it was very different from those of the country. On that he asked
for a dollar to buy one, which I took care to refuse; and said to
him, that I only gave presents of money to the poor. The people
made numerous urgent demands for medicines; and, in a very short
time, our large tent was surrounded with sick: the female part
formed the majority. Some beautiful faces and forms were clothed
in rags: the plaited hair and necks of these even were loaded with
ornaments. The physiognomy of the women, as well as of the men,
is of two kinds,—that of the Bedouin Arab and Fezzaneer, with
mixtures also which it would puzzle a physiognomist to discover
and describe. The females are rather under the middle stature,
stoutly built, and possess considerable vivacity and liveliness:
complexion of those not much exposed to the sun of a dirty white.
Thursday, July 4.—Numbers of patients greatly augmented, and
several of the applicants brought small presents for medicines, such
as a bowl of liban. I was also applied to in a new capacity—that
of a charm writer. A man came and offered me two fowls if I would
give him a charm for a disease of the belly; but I was obliged
to decline the office of charm writer, and confine myself to cure
diseases by medicine. A buxom widow applied for medicine to get her
a husband. It is not good to pretend ignorance: I therefore told
her I had no such medicine along with me. The same worthy personage
took my friend Clapperton for an old man—from his light coloured
beard and mustachios—to my great amusement, and his chagrin. He
had prided himself on the strength and bushiness of his beard, and
was not a little hurt that light colour should be taken as a mark of
old age. None of them had ever seen a light coloured beard before,
and all the old men dye their grey beards with henna, which gives
them a colour approaching that of my friend.
We went a little before sunset to visit the town. The houses are of
mud, and built on the sides of the hill. They appear as if one was
pulled on another. The passages or streets between them are narrow,
and, in two or three instances, excavations through the rock. The
exposed rocks denote the same composition as the insulated hills on
the salt plain. The ascent was steep in some places, and we had to
pass through the mosque before we arrived at the highest portion. From
this we had a fine view of wadey Shiati in every direction. The
wadey runs nearly east and west: in the former direction it is well
inhabited as far as Oml’abeed: this is the westernmost town; and
although, from this position, the soil appears favourable, there are
no inhabitants between this and Ghadamis. A range of hills forms the
northern boundary: these run as far as Ghadamis, and end easterly, in
the hills about Oml’abeed. A low range forms the southern boundary;
and between them and the wadey Ghrurbi all is sand. Many houses are
in ruins, and many more are approaching to that state. Still it is
called the new town, although its appearance little entitles it to
that appellation; but the ancient inhabitants lived in excavations
in the rocks, the remains of which are very distinct. We saw numerous
recesses, but thought they were produced by the present race digging
for pipe-clay, and the natural mouldering away of the soft rock. When
we had finished our visit, we were told the former people lived
in these holes. At the bottom of the hill we entered several, not
much decayed by time. Most of them are oblong spaces, about ten or
twelve feet long, and seven feet high. The entrances of all these had
mouldered away very much. At a hundred yards, however, from the base
of the hill, and now used as burying ground, there is a subterranean
house of large dimensions, and probably the residence of the great
personage. The entrance was more than half filled up with sand and
small stones that had been thrown in. Clapperton and I entered, and
found three extensive galleries, which communicated only by small
openings, in passing through which we had to stoop considerably. But
the galleries were high (nearly seven feet), and of considerable
length (about 150 feet), and each had several small recesses, like
sleeping rooms. The whole had neatness about it, and showed a taste in
the excavators. There are no traces of similar abodes in Fezzan. The
present race are entirely ignorant of the ancient occupiers. The
people are so afraid, and so superstitious, that scarcely one of
the town had ever entered it. They were astonished when we entered
without ceremony; and two, encouraged by our example, brought us a
light, by which we were enabled to look into the different recesses.
Saturday, July 6.—At 2. 40. started with a beautiful moonlight,
over a sandy plain, with a great many small hillocks. We stopped at
Dalhoon, a well nearly filled up with sand, and containing water
so brackish that we were unable to drink it. We started again,
and got in among the sand hills. Our new guide proved neither such
an active man nor experienced pilot as our old Tuarick, as we had
several times to retrace our steps.
Monday, July 8.—We entered the wadey Trona early this morning, on
the north-east side. Near where we entered there are a cluster of date
palms, and a small lake, from which impure trona is obtained. On the
western side the trona lake is surrounded with date trees, and its
marshy borders are covered on almost all sides by grass, and a tall
juncus. It is about half a mile long, and nearly two hundred yards
wide. At present it is of inconsiderable depth, from the evaporation
of the water; for many places are dry now, which are covered in
the winter and spring. The trona crystallizes at the bottom of the
lake, when the water is sufficiently saturated; for when the water
is in large quantities it eats the trona, as the people say. The
cakes vary in thickness, from a fine film to several inches (two or
three). The thickest at present is not more than three-fourths of
an inch; but in the winter, when the water begins to increase, it
is of the thickness I have mentioned. The surface next the ground
is not unequal from crystallization, but rough to the feel, from
numerous small rounded asperities. That next the water is generally
found studded with numerous small, beautiful vertical crystals of
muriate of soda; the line of junction is always distinct, and the
one is easily removed from the other. When not covered with muriate
of soda, the upper surface shows a congeries of small tabular pieces
joined in every position. When the mass is broken there is a fine
display of reticular crystals, often finely radiated. The surface of
the water is covered in many places with large thin sheets of salt,
giving the whole the appearance of a lake partially frozen over: film
after film forms, till the whole becomes of great thickness. Thus may
be observed, on the same space, trona and cubical crystals of muriate
of soda, and, on the surface of the water, films accumulating, till
the whole amounts to a considerable thickness. The soil of the lake
is a dark brown sand, approaching to black, of a viscid consistence,
and slimy feel; and, on the lately uncovered surface of the banks, a
black substance, something like mineral tar, is seen oozing out. The
water begins to increase in the winter, and is at its height in
the spring. In the beginning of the winter the trona is thickest
and best, but in the spring it disappears entirely. The size of
the lake has diminished considerably within the last nine years;
and, if care be not taken, the diminution will soon be much more
considerable; for plants are making rapid encroachments, and very
shallow banks are observable in many places. On making inquiry,
I found the quantity of trona has not sensibly diminished for the
last ten years. Perhaps it may appear so from there always being
sufficient to answer every demand. The quantity annually carried
away amounts to between 400 and 500 camel loads, each amounting
to about 4 cwt.,—a large quantity, when the size of the lake is
taken into account. It is only removed from the lake when a demand
comes. A man goes in, breaks it off in large pieces, and those on
the banks remove the extraneous matter, and pack it in large square
bundles, and bind it up with the retecious substance observable on
the roots of the leaves of the date tree, and, bound up in that way,
it is taken to the different places,—the greatest to Tripoli,
but a considerable quantity is consumed in Fezzan. The price of
each load here is two dollars. The water in the valley is good, and
very free from saline impregnation. The whole is taken care of by an
old black Fezzaneer, Hadje Ali, an unassuming but sensible man. He
treated us with every kindness, and showed the greatest readiness
to give us every information. He resides here the whole year, and
only comes up to Mourzuk occasionally to settle money affairs. When
we asked him if he felt his residence solitary, he answered, he
was now an old man, and he gained a comfortable livelihood by it,
which he could not elsewhere. He possesses great energy; and in his
younger years few could cope with him. Since his charge of this place,
which is about nine years, it happened Mukni wished more money. He
told him decidedly he would give him no more, on which Mukni began
to bluster in his usual manner. The old man quietly took up his
staff and walked off. The matter was soon settled in the Hadje’s
favour; for he is, as our relators informed us, of only one speech;
and Mukni, although he speaks harshly, has a good heart. The worms,
so much used in Fezzan, are found in this lake in the spring. About
twenty camels of the Waled Busafe were waiting for their loads.
Clapperton was sitting on the top of a high sand hill, and so pleased
with the view, that he called out several times for me to dismount
from my camel to enjoy the treat. The appearance was beautiful. A deep
sandy valley, without vegetation, and containing only two large groves
of date trees; within each a fine lake was enclosed. The contrast
between the bare lofty sand hills, and the two insulated spots, was
the great cause of the sensation of beauty. There is something pretty
in a lake surrounded with date palms; but when every other object
within the sphere of vision is dreary, the scene becomes doubly so.
The worms so celebrated in this kingdom are found in these
lakes. They are small animals, almost invisible to the naked eye,
and surrounded with a large quantity of gelatinous matter. They
are of a reddish-brown colour, and have a strong slimy smell. When
seen through a microscope, the head appears small and depressed,
the eyes two large black spots, supported on two long peduncles;
the body a row of rays on each side, like the fins of fishes, but
probably perform the action of legs; they have a continual motion
like the tail of fish.
These animalculæ abound in the spring; they are to be found at all
times, but in particularly large quantities in high winds. They are
caught in a long hand net, by a man going some way into the lake,
and after allowing the net to remain some time at the bottom, it is
taken up, or drawn a little along the ground; and in this manner
several pints are sometimes caught at one time. It is found to be
almost impossible to preserve them alive for a few hours after they
are taken from the lake. An animal that evidently preys on them is
found in considerable numbers. It is about an inch long, annulose,
has six feet on each side, and two small corniform processes at the
tail. It was past sunset before we saw any of the people of the town;
but by the promise of a dollar, a small basin full of the insects
was procured for us before daylight in the morning.
[Illustration: Drawn by Captn. Clapperton.
Engraved by E. Finden.
VIEW OF THE BAHIR MANDIA.
FROM THE NORTH.
_Published by John Murray, London. Feb. 1826._]
The other lakes of these worms are at two days’ journey from this,
situated in valleys almost inaccessible from the highness of the
sand hills, and frequented only by the Dowedee, or men that fish
for the insects only, at the riper season. They are placed in the
sun’s rays for a few hours to dry, and in that state sell at a
high rate in the different towns in Fezzan.
Wednesday, July 10. We departed at sunrise, and had a much more
pleasant journey. The tract was much more free from sand hills,
although some of a great height were observable on each side.
The sheikh was very civil, and all our wants were speedily supplied.
We had two marriages to-night. The brides were brought out on a
camel, decorated with gaudy dresses, and concealed from public view
by awnings. Both brides were on one camel, for the purpose, we were
told, of saving expense. Another camel went behind, for receiving
the presents of the people, as wheat or barley, by which a feast is
made. They went a considerable distance from the town, surrounded by
almost all the inhabitants, both male and female. The men, dressed
in their best, amused themselves firing muskets and pistols, while
the women were singing. The musicians preceded the procession, and
exhibited signs of having paid their devotions to Bacchus. They were
nearly two hours amusing themselves, before the brides were carried
home to their husbands’ houses. The ceremony was announced by the
yelling of the women, and the discharge of musketry.
Friday, July 12. We departed early in the morning, and arrived
about mid-day at Oubari, where we were obliged to remain a day,
for the camel men to arrange their affairs, and rest their camels.
Tuesday, July 16. We had directed the camels to be brought
before daylight; but it was after sunrise when they made their
appearance. After six we departed. Our course was over a level
gravelly valley, with the mountains to the south, and sand hills
to the north. The tulloh trees in abundance; some large patches of
calcareous crust. We were accompanied by Mahomet, a black Tuarick,
that resides in the vicinity of Biar Hadje Ahmut. Halted at Biar.
Wednesday, July 17. Early in the forenoon, a kafila of Tuaricks, most
of them Hadjes, arrived from Ghraat. Hateeta rose to salute them,
and paid them great respect. One was a maraboot, much respected
by the Tuaricks. He is an oldish man, of pleasing countenance and
free manner. They were muffled up to near the eyes; but they talked
freely with us, and appeared a little prepossessed in our favour;
no doubt from the account Hateeta had given them. One was able to
give some account of the Targee letters; but no information on the
ancient history of his nation. They were anxious we should profess
Islamism; but it was only the lips, not the heart they wished to
make any impression on. It is sufficient if a man says, “There is
no God but one, and Mahomet is his prophet,” and goes through a
few forms of prayers. There is some pleasure in beholding a number
at one and the same time at their devotions; but when reason is
called into action, when the whole is considered as outward show,
the beauty and the loveliness lose themselves.
Thursday, July 18. Started, an hour before sunrise. Our course
the same as yesterday, over a wide level valley, bounded by the
same mountain range, which all along forms shallow bays with bluff
extremities. Tops of the hills level. Almost the whole range, from
Biar Hadje Ahmut, as free from inequality as the valley. Scattered
acacias mostly in flower, and large drops of fine gum arabic hanging
from the branches. Notwithstanding the strong prickles, the camels
browse on this tree with great avidity and rapidity, and apparently
little inconvenience.
Friday, July 19. Form of hills becoming a little different; in
place of the regular table tops, peaks and rugged inequalities are
making their appearance. At an hour after sunset halted in Wadey
Elfoo, or Valley of Cool Breezes. This was a long and fatiguing
day for us. We travelled from sunrise till near eight o’clock,
and advanced twenty-nine miles without halting. The mid-day heat
was oppressive; but would have been doubly so, had it not been for
fine cool breezes. The heat, since we left Mourzuk, has generally
been moderated by a fine breeze springing up about eight or nine in
the morning, and following the sun’s course. It came at times in
strong puffs; and according to the state of the skin, appeared cold
or hot. When perspiring, cold; when dry, hot. The idea of the want
of water made us perhaps more desirous of it. The distance from the
one well to the other is four days, which at this season is not small.
Saturday, July 20. Tract, almost entirely destitute of vegetation,
till mid-day. Our course among low hills of sandstone and
claystone. Here we arrived at a beautiful small wadey, winding
among the hills; the last, we are told, we come to, till we arrive
at Ludinat. The hills are taking a more southerly direction. We were
told they run a considerable distance in the Soudan road, take a bend
to the eastward, and pass into the Tibboo country, and down to near
Bornou. It is along these hills the Tuaricks make their ghrassies
into the Tibboo country. These two nations are almost always at war,
and reciprocally annoy each other by a predatory warfare, stealing
camels, slaves, &c. killing only when resistance is made, and never
making prisoners.
Monday, July 21. About half an hour before sunrise, resumed our
journey. We came to alum slate hills, and early in the morning
passed a small conical hill called Boukra, or Father of the Foot,
where the people of kafilas passing amuse themselves by hopping over
it; and he who does that best, is considered least exhausted by the
journey. Near this there are a few hills, among which a serpent as
large as a camel is said to reside. The Targee is superstitious and
credulous in the extreme; every hill and cave has something fabulous
connected with it. About mid-day entered the boundaries of the Tuarick
country. It is by a small narrow pass over alum slate hills into a
sterile sandy valley. At a distance the Tuarick hills, running north
and south, not table-topped like those we have left, but rising in
numerous peaks and cones. There are here in the vicinity a number of
sand hills; and all the valleys are bounded by low alum slate hills,
and recently formed fixed sand hills. Sulphate of barytes in several
places. About eight, arrived at Ludinat.
The name of the wadey is Sardalis. On a small eminence near us is
an old ruinous building, foolishly thought by the people here to
be of Jewish origin; although from its structure, it is evidently
Arabian. A large spring issues from the middle, and pours out water
sufficient to irrigate a large space of ground. It opens into a large
basin; the temperature of the water is consequently influenced by the
soil and the sun’s rays. Abundant crops of grain might be reared
by an industrious people; but the Tuaricks are no agriculturists,
and the small cultivated spots are wrought by Fezzaneers. The
Tuaricks of the country have a sovereign contempt for inhabitants
of cities and cultivators of ground. They look upon them all as
degenerated beings. A wide-spreading tree grows near this castle,
under which gold is said to be deposited. The accounts are, that
the father of the present maraboot, a man renowned for his sanctity,
destroyed the writings that pointed out the place. The grave of this
Mahometan saint is near, and so revered, that people passing deposit
what they consider superfluous; and always find it safe on their
return. Thus there is not to be found a Tuarick or Arab so courageous
as to violate this sanctuary. The inhabitants are thinly scattered;
and we could only observe here and there a few grass houses. The
water of the spring is excellent. A few sheep are in the valley,
and we were able to buy a tolerably good one from the maraboot.
Thursday, July 24. Camel men long in starting; it was near seven
before we were on our journey. Passed near several springs, and on
the bank of one found some beautiful bog iron ore. The west side of
the wadey had the appearance of a rugged sea coast, and the exposed
ledges of rock, that of the beach washed by the waves. The rock is
a fine grained sandstone, lying on aluminous slate, which mouldering
into dust by exposure to the weather, undermines the sandstone, and
gives rise to the rugged appearance. It is rendered more dreary and
awful by the black colour of the external surface. At a distance we
took the whole to be a basaltic formation, and were not a little
deceived on our examination. We entered a narrow pass with lofty
rugged hills on each side; some were peaked. The black colour of
almost all with white streaks, gave them a sombre appearance. The
external surface of this sandstone soon acquires a shining black
like basalt: so much so, that I have several times been deceived,
till I took up the specimen. The white part is from a shining
white aluminous schistus, that separates into minute flakes like
snow. The ground had in many places the appearance of being covered
with snow. It blew a strong gale as we passed through the different
windings; sand was tossed in every direction; the sky was sometimes
obscured for several minutes. These, conjoined with the white of
the ground and hills, brought forcibly to our minds a snow storm;
but the hot wind as speedily convinced us of our error. The pass
led to a valley, with a few tulloh trees; this we traversed, and
soon entered on a large sandy plain, with the hills of Tadrart on
the east, and the high sand hills on the west. This range has a
most singular appearance; there is more of the picturesque in this,
than in any hills we have ever seen. Let any one imagine ruinous
cathedrals and castles; these we had in every position and of every
form. It will not be astonishing, that an ignorant and superstitious
people should associate these with something supernatural. That
is the fact; some particular demon inhabits each. The cause of the
appearance is the geological structure. In the distance, there is
a hill more picturesque and higher than the others, called Gassur
Janoun, or Devil’s Castle. Between it and the range, there is
a pass through which our course lies. Hateeta dreads this hill,
and has told us many strange stories of wonderful sights having
been seen: these he firmly believes; and is struck with horror,
when we tell him we will visit it.
Friday, July 25. Kept the range of hills in the same direction. We
were much amused by the great diversity of forms. One is called
the Devil’s House; and when Clapperton thought he perceived the
smell of smoke last night, Hateeta immediately said that it was
from the Devil’s House. Another is called the Chest, and under
it a large sum of money is supposed to have been deposited by the
ancient people, who are said to have been giants of extraordinary
stature. At a considerable distance to the southward, a part of the
same range is seen taking to the westward, and is continued, we are
told, as far as Tuat. Another branch is said to take a bend to the
southward and eastward, and join the mountain range of Fezzan. About
mid-day halted in the pass between the range and Devil’s Castle.
Made an excursion to Janoun. Our servant Abdullah accompanied me. He
kept at a respectable distance behind. When near the hill, he said in
a pitiful tone, there is no road up. I told him we would endeavour
to find one. The ascent was exceedingly difficult, and so strewed
with stones, that we were only able to ascend one of the eminences:
there we halted, and found it would be impossible to go higher,
as beyond where we were was precipice. Abdullah got more bold,
when he found there was nothing more than what is to be seen in any
other mountain. The geological structure the same as the range that
is near. When Hateeta found I was gone, he got amazingly alarmed;
and Clapperton was not able to allay his fears: he was only soothed,
when I returned. He was quite astonished I had seen nothing, and
began relating what had happened to others.
On the 26th, about half an hour after sunset, arrived at Ghraat;
and were soon visited by a number of Hateeta’s relations, one
of whom was his sister. Some were much affected, and wept at the
sufferings that had detained him so long from them. A number of
his male relations soon came, and many of the inhabitants of the
town. The ladies were a free and lively set. They were not a little
pleased with the grave manner we uttered the various complimentary
expressions. Hateeta was not well pleased with something that he had
heard. He told us not to be afraid; for he had numerous relations. We
said that fear never entered our breasts, and begged him not to be
uneasy on our account.
Saturday, July 27. Early in the morning numerous visitors paid their
respects to Hateeta, and were introduced in due form to us. We felt
the length of time spent in salutations quite fatiguing, and so absurd
in our eyes, that we could scarcely at times retain our gravity. Our
visitors were mostly residents of the city, and all were decorated
in their best. There was a sedateness and gravity in the appearance
of all, which the dress tended greatly to augment. There were three
natives of Gadames, one of whom knew us through our worthy friend
Mahomet D’Ghies; another we had seen in the house of Dr. Dickson;
and the third was well acquainted with European manners, having been
over at Leghorn.
In the afternoon we visited the sultan. Mats had been spread in the
castle, in a small ante-chamber. The old man was seated, but rose
up to receive us and welcome us to his city. He apologized for not
waiting on us; but said he was sick, and had been very little out
for some time. He had guinea-worm, and a cataract was forming in his
eyes. He was dressed in a nearly worn out tobe, and trowsers of the
same colour; and round his head was wrapped an old piece of yellow
coarse cloth for a turban. Notwithstanding the meanness of the dress,
there was something pleasing and prepossessing in his countenance,
and such a freeness as made us soon quite as much at home as if in
our tents. We presented him with a sword, with which he was highly
pleased. Hateeta wished it had been a bornouse; but we had none with
us we considered sufficiently good. We were led away by the title,
sultan. We had no idea the Tuaricks were so vain; for they used to
be filling us with high notions of the wealth and greatness of the
people here.
Our interview was highly interesting; and every one seemed much
pleased with us. The old sultan showed us every kindness; and we
had every reason to believe him sincere in his good wishes. After
our visit we called at the house of Lameens, son of the kadi. He is
a young man of excellent character, and universally respected. His
father is now in Ghadames, arranging with some of the other principal
inhabitants the affairs of the community. He had left directions
with his son to show us every attention. His house was neatly
fitted up, and carpets spread on a high bed, on which we seated
ourselves. Several of the people who were in the castle came along
with us, and by the assistance of those that could speak Arabic, we
were able to keep up a tolerably good conversation. On inquiring about
the Tuarick letters, we found the same sounds given them as we had
before heard from others. We were here at the fountain head, but were
disappointed in not being able to find a book in the Tuarick language;
they told us there was not one. Some only of the Tuaricks speak the
Arabic. We were the more astonished to find this, when we considered
the great intercourse between them and nations that speak Arabic only.
It was near sunset before we returned to our tents, which were now
tolerably clear of visitors. All had retired to pray and eat. Stewed
meat, bread, and soup, were again sent us by the sultan.
In the evening Hateeta’s kinswomen returned. They were greatly
amused, and laughed heartily at our blundering out a few Tuarick
words. It may be well supposed we were very unfit companions for
the ladies, as they could speak no other language than their own,
and we knew very little of it. Still, however, we got on well, and
were mutually pleased. I could scarcely refrain laughing several
times at the grave manner Clapperton assumed. He had been tutored by
Hateeta, and fully acted up to his instructions; no Tuarick could
have done better. Our friend Hateeta was anxious we should shine,
and read a number of lectures to Clapperton. He is naturally lively,
and full of humour. He was directed not to laugh or sing, but look
as grave as possible, which Hateeta said would be sure to please
the grave Tuaricks. As for myself, I had a natural sedateness,
which Hateeta thought would do. The liveliness of the women, their
freeness with the men, and the marked attention the latter paid them,
formed a striking contrast with other Mahommedan states. Thus the
day passed over well, and we had every reason to be pleased with
the demeanour of the people, and the attention they paid us.
Violent gale from the northward, which almost smothered us with sand.
About four we went to visit the spring we had heard so much about,
and to make a circuit round the town. The water is contained in
a large reservoir, surrounded with palm trees; and the banks are
covered with rushes, except when the people go to draw water. There
is not that bubbling up we saw in the spring of Shiati and Ludinat,
but apparently an oozing from a large surface, as in those of
Traghan. The water is clear, well tasted, and in abundance: a large
extent of soil is supplied by it, through channels cut in the ground;
and all the town is supplied from this place. Good water and plenty
of it is a great blessing in every quarter of the globe, but much
more in a hot climate. The people are sensible of it; for you hear
this place and that praised for the abundance of this water, and the
healthiness of its quality; and you often hear them say that it does
not engender bile, as the waters of such a place. Some small spots
here are really beautiful, from the diversity of scenery in a small
compass. Here and there patches of grass and beds of water melons,
in the edge of the water channels, fine palms loaded with ripe fruit,
small squares of gufolly and cassoub, and beautiful vines clinging
to the trees; in the brakes, the town and black tinted low hills. We
observed platforms, of palm leaves, raised about five feet from the
ground, for the purpose of sleeping, and defending the person from
scorpions, which are very common.
We now came in sight of the town, and were well pleased with the
appearance. The houses neat and clean; and the mosque, finer than any
thing of the kind in Fezzan. All was neat and simple. It is built at
the foot of a low hill, on the summit of which the former town stood;
but it, as we were told, was destroyed, and the greater part of the
inhabitants, by the giving way of the portion of hill on which it
was erected. The hills, composed as those about here, are very apt
to fall down in large masses. Indeed, none of the hills appear of
their original height. It was not long since a large portion of a
neighbouring mountain gave way, and the noise of its fall was heard
at a great distance. When the melancholy event of the destruction
of the town took place, we could not learn.
The town is surrounded with walls, in good repair, formed of sand
and whitish clay, that gives a clean and lively appearance to the
whole. There is only one gate opening to the east; formerly there
were more, that are now blocked up. The houses are built of the same
substance as the walls, and the external form and internal arrangement
the same as those of Mourzuk and other Mahommedan towns. The town
appears to be about the size of Oubari, and perhaps contains about
1000 inhabitants. The burying-ground is outside the town; it is
divided into two departments, one for those arrived at maturity,
the other for children,—a distinction not observable in Fezzan.
In our walk we fell in with a number of females, who had come out
to see us. All were free and lively, and not at all deterred by
the presence of the men. Several had fine features; but only one
or two could be called beautiful. Many of the natives came out of
their houses as we passed along, and cordially welcomed us to their
town. It was done in such a manner, that we could not but feel
pleased and highly flattered.
In the evening we heard a numerous band of females singing at a
distance, which was continued till near midnight. The women were
principally those of the country. This custom is very common among
the people, and is one of the principal amusements in the mountain
recesses. Hateeta said they go out when their work is finished in
the evening, and remain till near midnight in singing and telling
stories, return home, take supper, and go to bed.
The language of the Tuaricks is harsh and guttural; but it has great
strength, and is evidently expressive. That at least is the opinion
we were led to form, with our imperfect knowledge. The want of books,
and the little attention paid to cultivating a language, must tend to
keep it in a very imperfect state. The sedate character of the Tuarick
seems to be a firm barrier against the muses. The males seldom sing;
it is considered an amusement fit only for females. Their songs were
described to us as sweet. We never heard one repeating any poetical
lines. The people have good sound sense, and give more distinct
accounts of what they have seen than I have received from the Moorish
merchants. They would be a shining people, were they placed in more
favourable situations. On almost every stone in places they frequent,
the Tuarick characters are hewn out. It matters nothing whether the
letters are written from the right to the left, or _vice versa_,
or written horizontally.
LETTERS.
[Symbol: ⵜ] Yet. [Symbol: ⵌ] Yuz.
[Symbol: ⵗ] Yuk. [Symbol: ⵣ] Iz.
[Symbol: ⵆ] Yugh. [Symbol: H-like]
[Symbol: ⵓ] Yow [Symbol: W-like] Yew.
[Symbol: ⴰ] A. [Symbol: ⴷ] Yid.
[Symbol: ⵀ] Yib. [Symbol: northern (square) variant of ⵔ] Yir.
[Symbol: ⵙ] Yes. [Symbol: ⵢ] Yei.
[Symbol: ⵎ] Yim. [Symbol: ⴶ] Yigh.
[Symbol: ⴺ] Yish. [Symbol: ⵏ] Yin.
[Symbol: ⵍ] Yill.
These characters will be sufficient to enable the learned to trace the
connexion of the language with others that are now extinct. Here we
have no opportunity of making inquiries into this important subject.
Note. The rest of the Journal, describing their return to Mourzuk,
is wholly uninteresting, and is therefore omitted.
=RECENT DISCOVERIES=
IN
=AFRICA.=
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
FROM MOURZUK TO KOUKA IN BORNOU.
On the evening of the 29th of November we left Mourzuk, accompanied
by nearly all those of the town, who could muster a horse: the
camels had moved early in the day, and at Zezow we found the tents
pitched—there are here merely a few huts. From Zezow to Traghan
there is a good high road, with frequent incrustations of salt,
and we arrived there before noon. It is a clean walled town, one
of the best of one hundred and nine, of which Fezzan is said to
boast. Traghan was formerly as rich as Mourzuk, and was the capital
and residence of a sultan, who governed the eastern part of Fezzan,
whose castle, in ruins, may still be seen.
A maraboot, of great sanctity, is the principal person in Traghan,
as his father was before him. During the reign of the present
bashaw’s father, when the Arab troops appeared before the town,
the then maraboot and chief went out to meet them; and, from his
own stores, paid sixty thousand dollars to prevent the property of
his townspeople from being plundered. They make carpets here equal
to those of Constantinople. There are some springs of good water
in the gardens near the town, the only ones in Fezzan, it is said,
except the tepid one at Hammam, near Sockna.
After being crammed, as it were, by the hospitality of the maraboot,
we left Traghan for Maefen, an assemblage of date huts, with but
one house. The road to this place lies over a mixture of sand and
salt, having a curious and uncommon appearance: the surface is full
of cracks, and in many places it has the effect of a new ploughed
field: the clods are so hard, that it is with great difficulty they
can be broken. The path by which all the animals move for some miles
is a narrow space, or stripe, worn smooth, bearing a resemblance,
both in hardness and appearance, to ice: near Maefen, it assumes a
new and more beautiful shape, the cracks are larger, and from the
sides of cavities several feet deep hang beautiful crystals, from
beds of frost of the purest white[9]. I broke off a large mass,
but the interior was as brittle as the exterior was difficult to
break; the frost work was fine salt, and fell away in flakes on
being lightly shaken. It extends more than twenty miles, east and
west. The water of Maefen, though strongly tinctured with soda,
is not disagreeable to the taste, or unwholesome.
Quitting Maefen, we quickly entered on a desert plain; and, after
a dreary fourteen hours march for camels, we arrived at Mestoola,
a maten, or resting place, where the camels find some little grazing
from a plant called Ahgul. Starting at sun-rise, we had another
fatiguing day over the same kind of desert, without, I think, seeing
one living thing that did not belong to our kafila—not a bird,
or even an insect: the sand is beautifully fine, round, and red. We
now arrived at Gatrone. The Arabs watch for a sight of the high date
trees, which surround this town, as sailors look for land; and after
discovering these landmarks, they shape their course accordingly.
I here joined my companions, whom I found in a state of health but
ill calculated for undertaking a long and tedious journey. During
my stay at Mourzuk, I had suffered from a severe attack of fever,
which had kept me for ten days in my bed; and although considerably
debilitated, yet was I strong in comparison with my associates. Doctor
Oudney was suffering much from his cough, and still complaining of
his chest. Mr. Clapperton’s ague had not left him, and Hillman
had been twice attacked so violently as to be given over by the
doctor. We all, however, looked forward anxiously to proceeding,
and fancied that change of scene and warmer weather would bring us
all round. Gatrone is not unpleasingly situated: it is surrounded
by sandhills, and mounds of earth covered with a small tree, called
athali. Huts are built all round the town for the Tibboos.
Though encamped on the south side of the town, we had cold north and
north-east winds, and the thermometer in the tent was from 43 to 45
in the mornings. The person of the greatest importance at Gatrone
is one Hagi-el-Raschid, a large proprietor and a maraboot. He is a
man of very clear understanding and amiable manners, and as he uses
the superstition of the people as the means of making them happy and
turning them from vicious pursuits, one becomes almost reconciled
to an impostor.
Much necessary arrangement had been made here by laying in a stock
of dates, &c. for our long journey: and at eleven A.M. we left
Gatrone. The maraboot accompanied Boo-Khaloom outside the town, and
having drawn, not a magic circle, but a parallelogram, on the sand,
with his wand he wrote in it certain words of great import from the
Koran; the crowd looking on in silent astonishment, while he assumed
a manner both graceful and imposing, so as to make it impossible
for any one to feel at all inclined to ridicule his motions. When
he had finished repeating the fatah aloud, he invited us singly to
ride through the spot he had consecrated, and, having obeyed him,
we silently proceeded on our journey, without even repeating an adieu.
We passed a small nest of huts on the road, prettily situated,
called El-Bahhi, from whence the women of the place followed us
with songs for several miles. Having halted at Medroosa, we moved
on the next morning, and leaving an Arab castle to the south-east,
and some table-top hills, bearing south and by east, we arrived at
Kasrowa by three in the afternoon.
Kasrowa has tumuli of some height all round the town, covered with the
plant athali, and there is a well of good water: a road from hence
branches off to the south-east, which goes to Kanem and Waday. It
is also said to be the shortest road to Bornou, but there is a great
scarcity of water.
On the 9th, we were to arrive at Tegerhy; and the Arabs commenced
skirmishing as soon as we came within sight of it, and kept it up
in front of the town for half an hour after our arrival.
We were here to halt for a day or two, for the purpose of taking
in the remainder of our dates and provisions, and never was halt
more acceptable. Hillman, our carpenter, and two of our servants,
were really too ill to be moved; two of them had fevers, and one
the ague. Hillman had been so weakened by previous attacks, as to
be lifted on and off his mule: indeed we were all sickly. Doctor
Oudney’s complaint in his chest, and his cough, had gradually become
worse; and going only a few hundred yards to see a _dome_ date tree
so fatigued him that, after lying down, he was obliged to return,
supported by Mr. Clapperton. As our servants were all ill, one of the
negro women made us a mess of kouscasou, with some preserved fat,
which had been prepared in Mourzuk: it was a sorry meal, for the
fat was rancid; and although tired, and not very strong, I could not
refuse an invitation, about nine at night, after I had lain down to
sleep, to eat camel’s heart with Boo-Khaloom: it was wofully hard
and tough, and I suffered the next morning from indulging too much
at the feast.
[Illustration: Drawn by Major Denham.
Engraved by E. Finden.
CASTLE AND SALT LAKE AT TEGERHY.
_Published by John Murray, London. Feb. 1826._]
The Tibboos and Arabs kept us awake half the night with their
singing and dancing, in consequence of the bousafer, or feast,
on entering the Tibboo country. Boo-Khaloom gave two camels, and
we gave one. Our sick seemed to gain a little strength; and as we
had succeeded in purchasing a sheep, a little soup seemed to revive
them much; but we feared that Hillman and one of the servants must
be left behind. However distressing would such an event have been,
it was impossible for men who could not sit upright on a mule to
commence a journey of fifteen days over a desert, during which
travellers are obliged to march from sunrise until dark.
The 12th December was a beautifully mild morning, the thermometer at
eight being at 56. After breakfast, all seemed revived; but it was
with pain I observed the exceeding weakness of Doctor Oudney and
Hillman. I managed to get a sketch of the castle of Tegerhy from
the south side of a salt pool close to the town; the entrance to
which is small, low, and arched, something resembling a sally-port:
within a second wall and gateway, there are loop-holes which would
render the entrance by the narrow passage before mentioned extremely
difficult: above the second gateway, there is also an opening from
whence missiles and firebrands, of which the Arabs formerly made great
use, might be poured on the assailants. Wells of water are within
the walls, and tolerably good; and with supplies, when in a state
of repair, I have no doubt Tegerhy might make a very good defence.
The sultans of Fezzan probably think that the only means of keeping
these people in order is by keeping them poor. Their only produce
is dates, but those are of excellent quality. No vegetables are
raised here, and we could not even procure an onion. Almost every
town in Africa has its charm or wonder, and Tegerhy is not without
one. There is a well just outside the castle gates, the water of
which, we were told most gravely, “always rose when a kafila was
coming near the town! that the inhabitants always prepared what they
had to sell on seeing this water increase in bulk, for it never
deceived them!”—In proof of this assertion, they pointed out
to me how much higher the water had been previous to our arrival
than it was at the moment we were standing on the brink. This I
could have explained by the number of camels that had drank at it,
but I saw it was better policy to believe what every body allowed
to be true: even Boo-Khaloom exclaimed, “Allah! God is great,
powerful, and wise! How wonderful! Oh!” Over the inner gate of
the castle there is a large hole through to the gateway underneath,
and they tell a story of a woman dropping from thence a stone on
the head of some leader who had gained the outer wall, giving him,
by that means, the death of Abimelech in sacred history.
The situation of Tegerhy is rather pleasing than otherwise: it is
surrounded by date trees, and the water is excellent; a range of low
hills extends to the eastward; and snipes, wild-ducks, and geese,
frequent the salt-pools, which are near the town. The natives are
quite black, but have not the negro face: the men are slim, very
plain, with high cheek bones, the negro nose, large mouth, teeth much
stained by the quantity of tobacco and _trona_ (or muriate of soda)
which they eat; and even snuff, when given to them, goes directly
into their mouths.
The young girls are most of them pretty, but less so than those of
Gatrone. The men always carry two daggers, one about eighteen inches,
and the other six inches, the latter of which is attached to a ring
and worn on the arm or wrist. A Tibboo once told me, pointing to the
long one, “this is my gun; and this,” showing the smaller of the
two, “is my pistol.” The women make baskets and drinking-bowls
of palm leaves with great neatness.
On the 13th, we left Tegerhy, and proceeded on the desert: it was
scattered with mounds of earth and sand, covered with athila (a plant
the camels eat with avidity), and other shrubs. After travelling six
miles we arrived at a well called Omah, where our tents were pitched,
and here we halted three days. On the 16th, after clearing the palm
trees, by which Omah is surrounded, we proceeded on the desert. About
nine we had a slight shower of rain. At three in the afternoon,
we came to a halt at Ghad, after travelling ten miles. Near the
wells of Omah, numbers of human skeletons, or parts of skeletons,
lay scattered on the sands. Hillman, who had suffered dreadfully
since leaving Tegerhy, was greatly shocked at these whitened skulls,
and unhallowed remains; so much so, as to want all the encouragement
I could administer to him.
Dec. 17.—We continued our course over a stony plain, without
the least appearance of vegetation. Coarse opal and sand-stone[10]
strewed the path. We saw Alowere-Seghrir, a ridge of hills, bearing
east by south; Alowere-El-Kebir, a still higher ridge, lies more to
the east, but was not visible. These, by the accounts of the natives,
are the highest mountains in the Tibboo country, with the exception
of Ercherdat Erner. More to the south, the inhabitants are called
_Tibboo-Irchad_ (the Tibboos of the rocks). Through passes in both
these mountains, the road lies to Kanem. About sunset, we halted near
a well, within a half mile of Meshroo. Round this spot were lying
more than one hundred skeletons, some of them with the skin still
remaining attached to the bones—not even a little sand thrown over
them. The Arabs laughed heartily at my expression of horror, and said,
“they were only blacks, _nam boo_!” (damn their fathers!) and
began knocking about the limbs with the butt end of their firelocks,
saying, “This was a woman! This was a youngster!” and such like
unfeeling expressions. The greater part of the unhappy people, of
whom these were the remains, had formed the spoils of the sultan of
Fezzan the year before. I was assured that they had left Bornou with
not above a quarter’s allowance for each; and that more died from
want than fatigue: they were marched off with chains round their necks
and legs: the most robust only arrived in Fezzan in a very debilitated
state, and were there fattened for the Tripoli slave market.
Our camels did not come up until it was quite dark, and we bivouacked
in the midst of these unearthed remains of the victims of persecution
and avarice, after a long day’s journey of twenty-six miles, in
the course of which, one of our party counted 107 of these skeletons.
Dec. 19[11].—Moved round a winding pass to the west, and after an
ascent of three hundred feet descended a sandy steep to the east. This
was rather a picturesque spot, looking back upon Thenea. Our road
lay over a long plain with a slight ridge. A fine naga (she-camel)
lay down on the road this day, as I thought from fatigue. The Arabs
crowded round, and commenced unloading her, when, upon inquiry,
I found that she was suddenly taken in labour: about five minutes
completed the operation,—a very fine little animal was literally
dragged into light. It was then thrown across another camel;
and the mother, after being reloaded, followed quietly after her
offspring. One of the skeletons we passed to-day had a very fresh
appearance; the beard was still hanging to the skin of the face,
and the features were still discernible. A merchant, travelling
with the kafila, suddenly exclaimed, “That was my slave! I left
him behind four months ago, near this spot.”—“Make haste! take
him to the fsug” (market), said an Arab wag, “for fear any body
else should claim him.” We had no water, and a most fatiguing day.
Dec. 20 was also a dreary day of most uninteresting country; and it
was 5. 30. when we arrived at the Hormut-el-Wahr. These were the
highest hills we had seen since leaving Fezzan: the highest peak
might be five or six hundred feet. They had a bold black appearance,
and were a relief to the eye, after the long level we had quitted. We
entered the pass, which is nearly two miles in width, and wound round
some high hills to the south: the path was rugged and irregular in
the extreme, and bordered by bold conical and table-topped detached
hills. We blundered and stumbled on until ten at night, when we found
the resting-place, after a toilsome and most distressing day. We were
several times foiled in our attempt to find a path into the wadey,
under these hills, by which the camels might move, and where the
water was. Hillman was exceedingly ill this night, and Dr. Oudney
too fatigued to render him any assistance. El-Wahr is a wadey of
loose gravel, and has a well of good water. This was the eighth day
since our camels had tasted water: they were weak and sore-footed,
from the stony nature of the passes in these hills of El-Wahr. At
night it blew a hurricane.
It is three miles from where we halted to the end of the wadey; where,
to the west, there is a high hill called El-Baab. These hills extend
away to the east, and form part of the range which are found near
Tibesty, where they become higher and bolder. We had now a stony
plain, with low hills of sand and gravel, till we reached El-Garha,
which is a detached conical hill to the west, close to our road;
and here we halted for the night[12].
Dec. 22.—We moved before daylight, passing some rough sand hills,
mixed with red stone, to the west, over a plain of fine gravel, and
halted at the maten, called El-Hammar, close under a bluff head, which
had been in view since quitting our encampment in the morning. Strict
orders had been given this day for the camels to keep close up,
and for the Arabs not to straggle—the Tibboo Arabs having been
seen on the look out. During the last two days, we had passed on an
average from sixty to eighty or ninety skeletons each day; but the
numbers that lay about the wells at El-Hammar were countless: those
of two women, whose perfect and regular teeth bespoke them young,
were particularly shocking; their arms still remained clasped round
each other as they had expired; although the flesh had long since
perished by being exposed to the burning rays of the sun, and the
blackened bones only left: the nails of the fingers, and some of
the sinews of the hand, also remained; and part of the tongue of
one of them still appeared through the teeth. We had now passed
six days of desert without the slightest appearance of vegetation,
and a little branch of the souak was brought me here as a comfort
and curiosity. On the following day we had alternately plains of
sand and loose gravel, and had a distant view of some hills to the
west. While I was dozing on my horse about noon, overcome by the
heat of the sun, which at that time of the day always shone with
great power, I was suddenly awakened by a crashing under his feet,
which startled me excessively. I found that my steed had, without any
sensation of shame or alarm, stepped upon the perfect skeletons of
two human beings, cracking their brittle bones under his feet, and,
by one trip of his foot, separating a skull from the trunk, which
rolled on like a ball before him. This event gave me a sensation
which it took some time to remove. My horse was for many days not
looked upon with the same regard as formerly.
Dec. 24.—When the rains fall, which they do here in torrents in
the season, a sort of grass quickly springs up many feet high. In
passing the desert, a few remaining roots of this dried grass, which
had been blown by the winds from Bodemam, were eagerly seized on by
the Arabs, with cries of joy, for their hungry camels. The plain
was this day covered with slight irregularities, and strewed with
various coloured stones—thick beds of gypsum, stones resembling
topazes, and pieces of calcareous spar, which, reflecting the rays
of the setting-sun, displayed a most beautiful variety of tints. An
incrustation of fine whiting lay in patches, at no great distance
from the well: and soon after the sun had retired behind the hills
to the west, we descended into a wadey, where about a dozen stunted
bushes (not trees) of palm marked the spot where the water was to be
found. Even these miserable bushes were a great relief to the eye,
after the dreary sameness of the preceding days; and at day-break
in the morning, I could not help smiling at seeing Hillman gazing
at them with pleasure in his look, while he declared they reminded
him of a valley near his own home in the West of England. The
wells are situated under a ridge of low white hills of sandstone,
called Mafrasben-Kasarettsa, where there are also beds and hills
of limestone. The wells were so choked up with sand, that several
cart-loads of it were removed previous to finding sufficient water;
and even then the animals could not drink until near ten at night.
One of our nagas had this day her accouchement on the road; and
we all looked forward to the milk which the Arabs assured us she
had in abundance, and envied us not a little our morning draughts,
which we were already quaffing in imagination. However, one of the
“many slips between the cup and the lip” was to befall us. The
poor thing suddenly fell, and as suddenly died: the exclamations of
the Arabs were dreadful.—“The evil eye! the evil eye!” they
all exclaimed—“She was sure to die, I knew it.”—“Well! if
she had been mine, I would rather have lost a child, or three
slaves!”—“God be praised! God is great, powerful, and
wise! those looks of the people are always fatal.”
Dec. 25.—This was a beautiful mild morning: the thermometer
54. at 6. 30. Our skins were here filled with water which was not
disagreeable, although strongly impregnated with sulphur. The
camels moved at eight. The head of a range of high hills bore
west-south-west, called Tiggerindumma: they resemble in shape and
structure those we had passed nearer: they extend to the west, as
far as the _Arooda_, five days hence, where there is a well; and
ten days beyond which is Ghraat. At the distance of four miles from
Mafras, we came to a small wadey, where we saw the first dome date
trees: they were full of fruit, though green. We continued winding
amongst a nest of hills,—crossed two water-courses, in which were
tulloh and dry grass (_ashub_), until seven. These hills are bold
and picturesque, composed of black and coloured sandstone. No water.
Dec. 26[13].—We emerged from the hills, and broke into a plain,
extending to the east as far as the eye could reach; to the west,
Tiggerindumma sweeps off, and forming nearly a semi-circle, appears
again to the south, a very handsome range, though not exceeding six
hundred feet at any part in height. After passing between two low
ridges of dark hills, we opened on a plain bounded with flat-topped
and conical hills, called La Gaba. We found pieces of iron ore this
day, kidney-shaped, and of various other forms. We travelled till
nine at night, when some of us were nearly falling from our horses
with fatigue. After a narrow stony pass, we came to a halt in a
wadey called Izhya.
Here we had a gale of wind from the north-east for three days. Our
tents were nearly buried in sand, and we were obliged to roll
ourselves up in blankets nearly the whole time.
Dec. 30.—Izhya is called by the Tibboos Yaat. There are here four
wells, which resemble troughs cut in the sand, two or three feet
deep; and it is said, that by thus digging, water may be found in
any part of the wadey. We were encamped nearly west of the wells,
about one hundred yards between them and a raas, or head, which had
been in sight for some time. This head is a land-mark to kafilas,
coming in all directions, who wish to make the wadey. We passed
Ametradumma about four hours; from which, to the north-west, is a
wadey of palms, called Seggedem, with sweet water: here is generally
a tribe of plundering Tibboos, who are always on the look out for
small kafilas. No water.
Dec. 31.—A cold shivering morning. At 7. 30. thermometer 49.,
and we had a long day’s march over a plain, varying but little
from Izhya. The Arabs had no knowledge of the road; and the Tibboo
guide was all we had to rely on. We kept on until late, when the
Tibboo acknowledged he had lost the road, that the well was not far
off, but where he knew not; we therefore halted under some low brown
sandstone hills, and determined on waiting for the daylight. We lost
a camel this day from fatigue.
1823.
On the 1st January, after six miles’ travelling, we came to the
wadey Ikbar, and rested on the 2d. The Arabs here caught an hyæna
(dhubba), and brought it to us: we, however, had no wish beyond
looking at it. They then tied it to a tree, and shot at it until
the poor animal was literally knocked to pieces. This was the most
refreshing spot we had seen for many days; there were dome trees
loaded with fruit, though not ripe, which lay in clusters, and grass
in abundance; and I could have stayed here a week with pleasure,
so reviving is the least appearance of cultivation, or rather a
sprinkling of Nature’s beauty, after the parching wilds of the
long dreary desert we had passed.
Jan. 3.—Looking back with regret at leaving the few green branches
in Ikbar, with nothing before us but the dark hills and sandy desert,
we ascended slightly from the wadey, and leaving the hills of Ikbar,
proceeded towards a prominent head in a low range to the east of
our course, called Tummeraskumma, meaning “you’ll soon drink
water;” and about two miles in advance, we halted just under
a ridge of the same hills, after making twenty-four miles. Four
camels knocked up during this day’s march: on such occasions the
Arabs wait, in savage impatience, in the rear, with their knives
in their hands, ready, on the signal of the owner, to plunge them
into the poor animal, and tear off a portion of the flesh for their
evening meal. We were obliged to kill two of them on the spot; the
other two, it was hoped, would come up in the night. I attended the
slaughter of one; and despatch being the order of the day, a knife is
struck in the camel’s heart while his head is turned to the east,
and he dies almost in an instant; but before that instant expires,
a dozen knives are thrust into different parts of the carcass,
in order to carry off the choicest part of the flesh. The heart,
considered as the greatest delicacy, is torn out, the skin stripped
from the breast and haunches, part of the meat cut, or rather torn,
from the bones, and thrust into bags, which they carry for the
purpose; and the remainder of the carcass is left for the crows,
vultures, and hyænas, while the Arabs quickly follow the kafila.
[Illustration: Drawn by Captn. Clapperton.
Engraved by E. Finden.
ANAY.
TIBBOO COUNTRY.
_Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London._]
Jan. 4.—We crossed the ridge before us by eight this morning, and
proceeded between a conical hill to the east and one to the west,
called Gummaganumma. We had a fine open space of a mile in width
between these hills, and about noon we came to a large mass of dark,
soft sandstone, one hundred feet in height; about twenty yards from
this stone is a rising well of water, only a few inches deep, and a
sprinkling of coarse grass. Arabs call the spot “Irchat,” Tibboos,
“Anay.” The sultan’s army halted here two days, on its return
from Begharmi.
The town of Anay consists of a few huts built on the top of a
similar mass of stone to the one we had just left; round the base
of the rock are also habitations, but their riches are always kept
aloft. The Tuaricks annually, and sometimes oftener, pay them a most
destructive visit, carrying off cattle and every thing they can lay
their hands on. The people on these occasions take refuge at the top
of the rock; they ascend by a rude ladder, which is drawn up after
them; and as the sides of their citadel are always precipitous,
they defend themselves with their missiles, and by rolling down
stones on the assailants. The people who came out to meet us had
each four short spears and one long one.
Jan. 5.—The Sultan Tibboo, whose territory extends from this place
to Bilma, was visiting a town to the south-west of Anay, called
Kisbee, and he requested Boo-Khaloom to halt there one day, promising
to proceed with him to Bilma; we accordingly made Kisbee this day,
distant five miles. Our animals got some pickings of dry grass.
Kisbee is a great place of rendezvous for all kafilas and merchants;
and it is here that the sultan always takes his tribute for permission
to pass through his country. It is eight days distant from Aghadis,
twenty-four from Kashna, and, by good travelling by the nearest road,
twenty-seven from Bornou[14]. The sultan had neither much majesty nor
cleanliness of appearance: he came to Boo-Khaloom’s tent accompanied
by six or seven Tibboos, some of them really hideous. They take a
quantity of snuff both in their mouths and noses; their teeth were
of a deep yellow; the nose resembles nothing so much as a round
lump of flesh stuck on the face; and the nostrils are so large,
that their fingers go up as far as they will reach, in order to
ensure the snuff an admission into the head. My watch, compass,
and musical snuff-box, created but little astonishment; they looked
at their own faces in the bright covers, and were most stupidly
inattentive to what would have excited the wonder of almost any
imagination, however savage: here was the “os sublime,” but
the “spiritus intus,” the “mens divinior,” was scarcely
discoverable. Boo-Khaloom gave the sultan a fine scarlet bornouse,
which seemed a little to animate his stupid features. We had a dance
by Tibboo-men performed in front of our tents, in the evening: it is
graceful and slow, but not so well adapted to the male as the female;
it was succeeded by one performed by some free slaves from Soudan,
who were living with the Tibboos, enjoying their liberty, as they
said. It appears most violent exertion: one man is placed in the
middle of a circle, which he endeavours to break, and each one whom
he approaches throws him off, while he adds to the impetus by a leap,
and ascends several feet from the ground:—when one has completed
the round, another takes his place.
An Arab returned this evening, whom I had sent the night before for
the purpose of finding a poodle dog which had accompanied me from
Malta, and had remained behind from fatigue, the day we left Ikbar:
he was unsuccessful, and said that some of the wandering Tibboos must
have eaten him; he had found marks in the sand of the footsteps of
these people, and the remains of the two camels we had left on the
road were carried off: he traced their steps to the east, but was
afraid to follow them. It is from these wanderers that small kafilas,
or single merchants, have to dread attack. Generally speaking,
the regular sheikhs are satisfied by levying a tax, while these are
contented with nothing short of the whole.
Jan. 6.—At seven the thermometer was 42° in the tent.—About
five miles from Kisbee we left a wadey called Kilboo, by the Tibboos
Trona to our left, and coming close under the ridge of hills at
a point called Ametrigamma, we proceeded to Ashenumma, which is
about four miles beyond, with the high hills to the east, and a
very pleasing wadey to the west, producing palm and other trees. A
violent disturbance arose this morning on the road among our Arabs;
one of them having shot a ball through the shirt of another of the
Magarha tribe: the sheikh of the Magarha took up the quarrel, and
the man saved himself from being punished, by hanging to the stirrup
leather of my saddle. The Arab sheikh made use of some expressions
in defending his man, which displeased Boo-Khaloom, who instantly
knocked him off his horse, and his slaves soundly bastinadoed him.
Tiggema, near which we halted, is one of the highest points in the
range, and hangs over the mud houses of the town: this point stands
at the south extremity of the recess, which the hills here form, and
is about four hundred feet high; the sides are nearly perpendicular,
and it is detached from the other hills by a chasm. On the approach
of the Tuaricks the whole population flock to the top of these
heights, with all their property, and make the best defence they
can. The insides of some of the houses are neat and tidy; the men
are generally travelling merchants, or rather pedlers, and probably
do not pass more than four months in the year with their families,
for the Tibboos rarely go beyond Bornou to the south, or Mourzuk
to the north; they appeared light-hearted, and happy as people
constantly in dread of such visitors as the Tuaricks can be, who
spare neither age nor sex. A wadey, comparatively fertile, extends
several miles parallel to the heights under which the village stands,
producing dates and grass in abundance, and a salt water or trona lake
is within two miles of them, in which are wild fowl. Mr. Clapperton
shot two of the plover species, with spurs on their wings. A general
caution was given for no person to go out of the circle after sunset.
Jan. 8[15].—Our course was still under the range of hills, and at
five miles distance we came to another town called Alighi, and two
miles beyond that another called Tukumani: these towns were built
to the south of, and sheltered by slight projections from, the hills
under which they were placed. The people always came out to meet us,
and when within about fifty paces of the horses, fell on their knees
singing and beating a sort of drum, which always accompanies their
rejoicing. To the west of both these towns is a salt lake resembling
the one near Ashenumma, but rather smaller. We proceeded from hence
nearly south-west, leaving the hills, and while resting under the
shade of some gourd trees, which are here abundant, we had the
agreeable, and to us very novel, sight of a drove of oxen: the bare
idea of once more being in a country that afforded beef and pasture
was consoling in the extreme, and the luxurious thought of fresh milk,
wholesome food, and plenty, was most exhilarating to us all. At two
we came to a halt at Dirkee. A good deal of powder was here expended
in honour of the sultan, who again met us on our approach: his new
scarlet bornouse was thrown over a filthy checked shirt, and his
turban and cap, though once white, were rapidly approaching to the
colour of the head they covered; when, however, the next morning his
majesty condescended to ask me for a small piece of soap, these little
negligences in his outward appearance were more easily accounted for.
We had rather a numerous assembly of females, who danced for some
hours before the tents: some of their movements were not inelegant,
and not unlike the Greek dances as they are represented. The sultan
regaled us with cheese, and ground nuts from Soudan, the former of
a pleasant flavour, but so hard that we were obliged to moisten it
with water previous to eating. Dirkee is of a different description
from the Tibboo towns we had seen: it stands in a wadey, is a mile
in circumference, and it has two trona lakes, one to the east, and
the other to the west. Of this saline substance an account will be
found in the Appendix.—It is generally supposed that these lakes
were originally caused by taking from the spot they now occupy the
earth which was required for building the town, and its surrounding
walls. Water, as we have before observed, is found in many parts of
this country, at the depth of from six inches to six feet, and the
soil near the surface, particularly in the neighbourhood of these
Tibboo towns, is very powerfully impregnated by saline substances; so
much so, that incrustations of pure, or nearly pure, trona are found
sometimes extending several miles. The borders of these lakes have
the same appearance: they are composed of a black mud, which almost
as soon as exposed to the sun and air becomes crisp like fresh dug
earth in a frosty morning. In the centre of each of these lakes is a
solid body or island of trona, which the inhabitants say increases in
size annually: the one in the lake to the east is probably fourteen or
fifteen feet in height, and one hundred in circumference: the edges
quite close to the water are solid, nor is there any appearance of
mud or slime; it breaks off in firm pieces, but is easily reduced
to powder[16]. There are several wells in the town of tolerably good
water very slightly impregnated with the trona taste.
Dirkee, from its situation in the wadey, is more exposed to the
attacks of the Tuaricks than the towns nearer the hills, and on this
account, they say, it is so thinly peopled. The houses have literally
nothing within them, not even a mat; and a few women and old men
are the only inhabitants: the men, they said, were all on journeys,
or at Kisbee, Ashenumma, or Bilma, where they go themselves after
the date season. During the time we halted here, the women brought
us dates fancifully strung on rushes in the shape of hearts with
much ingenuity, and a few pots of honey and fat.
We halted two days. So many of Boo-Khaloom’s camels had fallen
on the road, that notwithstanding all their peaceable professions,
a marauding party was sent out to plunder some maherhies, and
bring them in; an excursion that was sanctioned by the sultan,
who gave them instructions as to the route they were to take. The
former deeds of the Arabs are, however, still in the memory of the
Tibboos, and they had increased the distance between their huts and
the high road by a timely striking of their tents. But nine camels
of the maherhy species were brought in, yet not without a skirmish:
a fresh party was despatched, and did not return at night. We were
all ordered to remain loaded, and no one was allowed to quit the
circle in which the tents were pitched.
On the 11th we proceeded along the wadey. The thickly scattered
mimosa trees afforded some very delightful varieties of shade. Our
course was nearly two miles distant from the hills[17], which are all
here called Tiggema. After our march, while waiting for the coming
up of the camels, the Tibboos tried their skill with the spear, and
were far more expert than I expected to see them; the arm is bent,
and the hand not higher than the right shoulder, when they discharge
the spear: as it leaves the hand, they give it a strong twist with
the fingers, and as it flies it spins in the air. An old man of
sixty struck a tree twice at twenty yards; and another, a powerful
young man, threw the spear full eighty yards: when it strikes the
ground, it sometimes bends nearly double: all who travel on foot
carry two. Another weapon, which a Tibboo carries, is a sword of a
very peculiar form, called hungamunga; of these they sometimes carry
three or four. The Arabs, who had been out foraging, returned with
thirteen camels, which they had much difficulty in bringing: the
Tibboos had followed them several miles. We had patroles the whole
night, who, to awaken us for the purpose of assuring us they were
awake themselves, were constantly exclaiming Balek-ho, the watchword
of the Arabs. We had near us a well of very good water amidst high
grass and agoul. On the surface was a saline incrustation of several
inches in thickness; below, a sandstone rock, and at a depth of two
feet, water clear and good. We had also this day a dish of venison,
one of the Arabs having succeeded in shooting two gazelles; many
of which had crossed our path for the last three days. On finding
a young one, only a few days old, the tawny, wily rogue instantly
lay down in the grass, imitated the cry of the young one, and as
the mother came bounding towards the spot, he shot her in the throat.
On the 12th we reached Bilma[18], the capital of the Tibboos, and
the residence of their sultan, who, having always managed to get
before and receive us, advanced a mile from the town attended by
some fifty of his men at arms, and double the number of the sex we
call fair. The men had most of them bows and arrows, and all carried
spears: they approached Boo Khaloom, shaking them in the air over
their heads; and after this salutation we all moved on towards
the town, the females dancing, and throwing themselves about with
screams and songs in a manner to us quite original. They were of a
superior class to those of the minor towns; some having extremely
pleasing features, while the pearly white of their regular teeth
was beautifully contrasted with the glossy black of their skin, and
the triangular flaps of plaited hair, which hung down on each side
of their faces, streaming with oil, with the addition of the coral
in the nose, and large amber necklaces, gave them a very seducing
appearance. Some of them carried a sheish, a fan made of soft grass,
or hair, for the purpose of keeping off the flies; others a branch
of a tree, and some fans of ostrich feathers, or a bunch of keys:
all had something in their hands, which they wave over their heads
as they advance. One wrapper of Soudan tied on the top of the left
shoulder, leaving the right breast bare, formed their covering,
while a smaller one was thrown over the head, which hung down to
their shoulders, or was thrown back at pleasure: notwithstanding the
apparent scantiness of their habiliments, nothing could be farther
from indelicate than was their appearance or deportment.
On arriving at Bilma, we halted under the shade of a large tulloh
tree while the tents were pitching; and the women danced with great
taste, and, as I was assured by the sultan’s nephew, with skill
also. As they approach each other, accompanied by the slow beat of
an instrument formed out of a gourd, covered with goat’s skin,
for a long time their movements are confined to the head, hands,
and body, which they throw from one side to the other, flourish
in the air, and bend without moving the feet; suddenly, however,
the music becomes quicker and louder, when they start into the most
violent gestures, rolling their heads round, gnashing their teeth,
and shaking their hands at each other, leaping up, and on each side,
until one or both are so exhausted that they fall to the ground:
another pair then take their place.
I now, for the first time, produced Captain Lyon’s book in Boo
Khaloom’s tent, and on turning over the prints of the natives
he swore, and exclaimed, and insisted upon it, that he knew
every face:—“This was such a one’s slave—that was his
own—he was right—he knew it. Praised be God for the talents
he gave the English! they were shater, clever; wolla shater, very
clever!” Of a landscape, however, I found that he had not the
least idea; nor could I make him at all understand the intention
of the print of the sand-wind in the desert, which is really so
well described by Captain Lyon’s drawing; he would look at it
upside down; and when I twice reversed it for him, he exclaimed,
“Why! why! it is all the same.” A camel or a human figure was
all I could make him understand, and at these he was all agitation
and delight—“Gieb! gieb! Wonderful! wonderful!” The eyes
first took his attention, then the other features: at the sight
of the sword, he exclaimed, “Allah! Allah!” and on discovering
the guns instantly exclaimed, “Where is the powder?” This want
of perception, as I imagined, in so intelligent a man, excited at
first my surprise; but perhaps just the same would an European have
felt under similar circumstances. Were an European to attain manhood
without ever casting his eye upon the representation of a landscape
on paper, would he immediately feel the particular beauties of the
picture, the perspective and the distant objects? Certainly not:
it is from our opportunities of contemplating works of art, even
in the common walks of life, as well as to cultivation of mind,
and associations of the finer feelings by an intercourse with the
enlightened and accomplished, that we owe our quick perception in
matters of this kind, rather than from nature.
To the south of Bilma are marshes with pools of stagnant water,
which our horses could scarcely drink. The town stands in a hollow,
and is surrounded by low mud walls, which, with the houses within,
are mean and miserable. About two miles north of the town are a few
huts, and near them several lakes, in which are great quantities
of very pure crystallized salt: some was brought to us for sale in
baskets, beautifully white, and of an excellent flavour. On visiting
the two most productive lakes, which lay between low sand hills,
I expressed my surprise at the difference between that which the
Tibboos were carrying away from the heaps by the side of the water,
and that which I had seen the day before: I however found that their
time for gathering the salt was at the end of the dry season, when
it was taken, in large masses, from the borders of the lake. This
transparent kind they put into bags, and send to Bornou and Soudan;
a coarser sort is also formed into hard pillars, and for which a
ready market is found. In Soudan, a single pillar weighing eleven
pounds brings four or five dollars. The Tuaricks supply themselves
with salt entirely from the wadeys of the Tibboos. Twenty thousand
bags of salt were said to have been carried off during the last
year by the Tuaricks alone. The Tibboos say, “It is hard to rob
us, not only for their own consumption, but for the purposes of
commerce too; and in consequence of paying nothing for the commodity,
undersell us likewise in the Soudan market.” But the Tibboos must
be another people before they can keep the Tuaricks from plundering
their country: a people who neither plant nor sow; whose education
consists in managing a maherhy, and the use of the spear; and who
live by plundering those around them, as well as those whom necessity
or chance may lead to pass through their own country.
About a mile from Bilma is a spring of beautiful clear water, which
rises to the surface of the earth, and waters a space of two or three
hundred yards in circumference, which is covered with fresh grass:
but passing this, the traveller must bid adieu to every appearance of
vegetable production, and enter on a desert which requires thirteen
days to cross. Near the first hill of sand I succeeded, with the
assistance of two Arabs, in catching a small beautiful animal, nearly
white, much resembling a fox in make and shape, although not larger
than a moderate-sized cat. It was of the species called fitchet:
the belly was white, and the back and rest of the body of a light
brown colour; the tail was bushy like that of the fox, nearly white,
and the end of the hair tipped with black.
Jan. 16.—Our road lay over loose hills of fine sand, in which
the camels sank nearly knee-deep. In passing these desert wilds,
where hills disappear in a single night by the drifting of the
sand, and where all traces of the passage, even of a large kafila,
sometimes vanish in a few hours, the Tibboos have certain points in
the dark sandstone ridges, which from time to time raise their heads
in the midst of this dry ocean of sand, and form the only variety,
and by them they steer their course. From one of these landmarks
we waded through sand formed into hills from twenty to sixty feet
in height, with nearly perpendicular sides, the camels blundering
and falling with their heavy loads. The greatest care is taken by
the drivers in descending these banks: the Arabs hang with all their
weight on the animal’s tail, by which means they steady him in his
descent. Without this precaution the camel generally falls forward,
and, of course, all he carries goes over his head. We halted at
Kaflorum (where the kafila stops), which is a nest of hills of coarse,
dark sandstone: an irregular peak to the east is called Gusser,
or the castle. At the end of these hills, about two miles from the
road, lies a wadey called Zow Seghrir, in which grows the suag tree,
and also grass. Our course was south; but we were obliged to wind
round the different sand hills in order to avoid the rapid descents,
which were so distressing to the camels. We bivouacked under a head
called Zow (the Difficult), to the east, where we found several wells.
Jan. 18.—The sand hills were less high to-day, but the animals
sank so deep, that it was a tedious day for all. Four camels of Boo
Khaloom’s gave in; two were killed by the Arabs, and two were left
to the chance of coming up before morning. Tremendously dreary are
these marches: as far as the eye can reach, billows of sand bound
the prospect. On seeing the solitary foot passenger of the kafila,
with his water-flask in his hand, and bag of zumeeta on his head,
sink at a distance beneath the slope of one of these, as he plods
his way alone, hoping to gain a few paces in his long day’s work,
by not following the track of the camels, one trembles for his
safety:—the obstacle passed which concealed him from the view,
the eye is strained towards the spot in order to be assured that he
has not been buried quick in the treacherous overwhelming sand.
An unfortunate merchant of Tripoli, Mohamed N’diff, who had suffered
much on the road from an enlarged spleen, was here advised to undergo
the operation of burning with a red-hot iron, the sovereign Arab
remedy for almost every disorder: he consented; and, previous to
our move this morning, he was laid down on his back, and, while five
or six Arabs held him on the sand, the rude operators burnt him on
the left side, under the ribs, in three places, nearly the size of
a sixpence each. The iron was again placed in the fire, and while
heating, the thumbs of about a dozen Arabs were thrust in different
parts of the poor man’s side, to know if the pressure pained him,
until his flesh was so bruised, that he declared all gave him pain:
four more marks with the iron were now made near the former ones,
upon which he was turned on his face, and three larger made within two
inches of the back bone. One would have thought the operation was now
at an end; but an old Arab, who had been feeling his throat for some
time, declared a hot iron, and a large burn, absolutely necessary just
above the collarbone, on the same side. The poor man submitted with
wonderful patience to all this mangling, and after drinking a draught
of water, moved on with the camels. We made this day twenty-one
miles, and halted at Chukœma, which means half way. We lost more
than twenty of our camels this day, by their straying out of the path.
Jan. 20.—We were promised to find water early; and as the animals
had not drank the night before, we pushed on with our horses:
we were told the wells were near; but it was a long twenty miles,
over loose rolling sand hills. At less than half way, we passed two
hills of dark sandstone, called Geisgae (_Dhubba_—the hyena), which
had been in sight great part of yesterday; and at 1. 30. arrived at a
wadey called Dibla (_Inchat tegeel_—heavy stone). In the wadey near
is a little sprinkling of rusty grass, which the animals devoured
with an avidity that would have done credit to better fare. The
water was extremely brackish, and strongly impregnated with trona;
but it was fresh and cool, and therefore a delightful beverage to us.
In the wadey Dibla stands a detached conical table-topped hill: the
summit had a black rugged appearance from below, and was formed of
a sort of bituminous earth, dry and crumbling to the touch. Under
this were layers or strata of thin plates, almost resembling foil,
of brittle schistose clay, of black, yellow, and green: these also
crumbled on receiving the pressure of the hand[19]. About ten miles
from Dibla we came to Chegarub, and four miles further to Kersherma,
where we rested for the night. No wood or water.
Jan. 22.—A tedious day over sandy deserts, without even the relief
of a dark hill to look forward to. About sun-set we came to a spot
with some little sprinkling of a grass called _sbeet_, and some
fine grass, with a flower called _nisse_. Made twenty-four miles,
and halted at Kasama-foma-hamse, or the five trees. No wood nor
water. Alarm of Tibboos,—all mounted and turned out.
Jan. 23.—Desert as yesterday. High sand hills[20]. Burmenmadua (all
sand). At three in the afternoon, we arrived at an extensive wadey,
called Aghadem. Here are several wells of excellent water, forage,
and numbers of the tree called suag, the red berries of which are
nearly as good as cranberries. We broke in on the retreats of about
a hundred gazelles, who were enjoying the fertility of the valley. It
was, however, with great difficulty, from their extreme shyness, that
we shot one, which afforded us an ample meal. A road here branched
off to the westward, leading to the Tuarick country, and Soudan,
but not frequented by kafilas. Aghadem is a great rendezvous, and
the dread of all small kafilas and travellers. It is frequented by
freebooters of all descriptions.
Jan. 24, we halted. The thermometer, in the shade of my tent, was
101°. at half-past two. The animals were all enjoying the blessings
of plenty in the ravines, which ran through the range of low black
hills, extending nearly north and south, quite across the valley. The
camels, in particular, feasted on the small branches of the suag,
of which they are fond to excess. The tracks of the hyæna had been
numerous for the last three days; and last night they approached in
droves quite close to our encampment.
My telescope this evening afforded great delight to Boo-Khaloom,
the brother of the kadi at Mourzuk, Mohamed Abeedeen, and several
others, for more than an hour. I usually passed some time every
evening in Boo-Khaloom’s tent, and had promised them a sight of
the moon _grib_ (near), for some time. One old hadje, who obtained
a sight by my assistance, for he could not fix the glass on the
object, after an exclamation of wonder, looked me fully in the face,
spoke not a word, but walked off as fast as he could, repeating
words from the Koran. This conduct, I was pleased to see, brought
down the ridicule of the others, who were gratified beyond measure,
and asked a hundred questions. The night was beautifully serene and
clear, and the three splendid constellations of Orion, Canis Major,
and Taurus, presented a coup d’œil truly impressive and sublime.
Jan. 25.—The camels moved off soon after eight; and we took shelter
from the sun under the shade of some clumps, covered with high grass,
near the wells, in order that the horses might drink at the moment
of our departure. We had three or four long days to the next water;
and the camels were too fatigued to carry more than one day’s
food for the horses. While we were in this situation, two Arabs,
who had gone on with the camels, came galloping back, to say that
they had encountered two Tibboo couriers, on their way from Bornou
to Mourzuk. They soon made their appearance, mounted on maherhies,
only nine days from Kouka. They brought news that the Sheikh Kanemy
had just returned from a successful expedition against the sultan of
Begharmi; that he had attacked and routed a powerful tribe of Arabs,
called la Sala; and that the sultan, on hearing this, had fled as
before to the south side of the Great River, amongst the Kirdies.
We proceeded on our route, which was along a continued desert;
and at sun-set halted on the sand, without either wood or water,
after twenty-four miles. The courier from Bornou to Mourzuk assured
us, that he should not be more than thirty days on the road from
where we left him. Since Sheikh Kanemy’s residence at Kouka,
couriers have occasionally passed between Bornou and Mourzuk,—a
circumstance before that event unknown. One of Kanemy’s wives
and three children were in Mourzuk; and the Bashaw, in order to
secure his perfect submission, refused to allow them to leave that
place. The Tibboos are the only people who will undertake this most
arduous service; and the chances are so much against both returning in
safety, that one is never sent alone. The two men we had encountered
were mounted on two superb maherhies, and proceeding at the rate of
about six miles an hour. A bag of zumeeta (some parched corn), and
one or two skins for water, with a small brass basin, with a wooden
bowl, out of which they ate and drank, were all their comforts. A
little meat, cut in strips and dried in the sun, called _gedeed_,
is sometimes added to the store, which they eat raw; for they rarely
light a fire for the purpose of cooking, although the want of this
comfort during the nights, on approaching Fezzan, where the cold
winds are sometimes biting after the day’s heat, is often fatal to
such travellers. A bag is suspended under the tail of the maherhy,
by which means the dung is preserved, and serves as fuel on halting
in the night. Without a kafila, and a sufficient number of camels
to carry such indispensables as wood and water, it is indeed a
perilous journey.
On the 27th we appeared gradually approaching something resembling
vegetation: we had rising sands and clumps of fine grass the
whole way; and the country was not unlike some of our heaths in
England. Towards evening the trees increased greatly in number; and
where we halted, the animals found abundance of food. The tulloh
trees, the kossom (a very beautiful parasitical plant), and the
herbage, were most refreshing to our parched feelings, although in
reality they were of the most dingy green and stunted appearance. A
herd of more than a hundred gazelles crossed us towards the evening;
and the foot-marks of the ostrich, and some of its feathers, were
discovered by the Arabs. The spot where we halted is called Geogo
Balwy.
Jan. 28.—We met two Tibboos this day, who informed us that the
Tuaricks had been to Kanem, eight hundred strong, and had carried
off every thing from two towns. The Arabs were all anxiety to fall
in with them, and rob the true rogues. The route resembled that
of yesterday. Early in the day we made Beere-Kashifery. The well
here was of great depth; Arabs were obliged to descend into it, and
throw out several loads of sand, before any water could be drawn,
and which occupied them the greater part of the night. By daylight
the next morning, Mina Tahr, or the black bird, the sheikh of the
Gunda Tibboos, attended by three of his followers, approached the
camp. Beere-Kashifery lay within his territories, and no kafilas
pass without paying tribute, which, as he is absolute, sometimes
amounts to half what they possess. In our case, his was a visit of
respect: Boo-Khaloom received him in his tent, and clothed him in a
scarlet bornouse of coarse cloth, and a tawdry silk caftan, which was
considered as a superb present. The Tibboos are smart active fellows,
mounted on small horses, of great swiftness: their saddles are of
wood, small and light, open along the bone of the back; the pieces
of wood of which it is composed are lashed together with thongs of
hide; the stuffing is camel’s hair, wound and plaited, so as to be
a perfect guard; the girth and stirrup leathers are also of plaited
thongs, and the stirrups themselves of iron, very small and light;
into these four toes only are thrust, the great toe being left to
take its chance. They mount quickly, in half the time an Arab does,
by the assistance of a spear, which they place in the ground, at
the same time the left foot is planted in the stirrup; and thus they
spring into their saddle. The bridle is light, but severe; the reins
and head-stall of strips of hide, fancifully twisted and plaited.
Our camels had not finished drinking until the sun was full six
fathom high, as the Arabs say; and as we were in want of fresh meat,
and, indeed, every thing, Mina Tahr proposed that we should go to a
well nearer his people—a well, he assured us, which was never yet
shown to an Arab. At eleven, therefore, on the 29th of January, we
moved on, accompanied by the Tibboos, nine miles nearly south; where,
about half a mile west of the road, we came to the well Duggesheinga:
here were the marks of immense herds, which had been drinking in the
morning. This was a retired spot, undiscoverable from the ordinary
route of travellers, from which it was completely hid by rising
sand hills. Here the Tibboos left us, promising to return early
the day after with sheep, an ox, honey, and fat. This was joyful
news to persons who had not tasted fresh animal food for fourteen
or fifteen days, with the exception of a little camel’s flesh. We
were terribly annoyed the whole of the day by a strong easterly wind,
and such volumes of sand, as quite obscured the face of nature.
Jan. 30.—The wind and drifting sand were so violent, that we were
obliged to keep our tents the whole day; besides this, I was more
disordered than I had been since leaving Mourzuk. I found a loose
shirt only the most convenient covering, as the sand could be shaken
off as soon as it made a lodgment, which, with other articles of
dress, could not be done, and the irritation it caused produced a
soreness almost intolerable: a little oil or fat from the hand of
a negress (all of whom are early taught the art of shampooing to
perfection), rubbed well round the neck, loins, and back, is the best
cure, and the greatest comfort, in cases of this kind; and although,
from my Christian belief, I was deprived of the luxury of possessing
half a dozen of these shampooing beauties, yet, by marrying my
negro Barca to one of the bashaw’s freed women slaves, as I had
done at Sockna, I became, to a certain degree, also the master of
Zerega, whose education in the castle had been of a superior kind;
and she was of the greatest use to me on these occasions of fatigue
or sickness. It is an undoubted fact, and in no case probably better
exemplified than in my own, that man naturally longs for attentions
and support from female hands, of whatever colour or country, so
soon as debility or sickness comes upon him.
Towards the evening, when the wind became hushed and the sky
re-assumed its bright and truly celestial blue, the Tibboo Sheikh,
and about thirty of his people, male and female, returned, but their
supplies were scanty for a kafila of three hundred persons. The
sweet milk turned out nothing but sour camel’s milk, full of dirt
and sand, and the fat was in small quantities and very rancid. We,
however, purchased a lean sheep for two dollars, which was indeed a
treat. Great precaution must always be taken on procuring meat, after
long abstaining from animal food: eating more than a very moderate
quantity ever disorders the stomach, which is often succeeded by
fever, ague, and all its attendant evils: although not gormandizers,
some of us suffered from too great an indulgence in the luxuries
of boiled mutton. Illness here should be the more avoided, from its
being altogether of a nature different from illness elsewhere: the
attacks are sudden, and render a person incapable of any exertion,
leaving him in a state of weakness and debility scarcely credible
to those who have not been eye-witnesses of the fact.
Some of the girls who brought the milk, &c. were really pretty
as contrasted with the extreme ugliness of the men: they were
different from those of Bilma; were more of a copper colour, with
high foreheads and a sinking between the eyes: they have fine teeth,
and are smaller and more delicately formed than the Tibboos who
inhabit the towns. The men brought, as a present to Boo-Khaloom,
two beautiful maherhies; one of them was a most superb animal,
and measured nine feet and a half from the ground to the middle of
the back: they also brought a horse or two for sale. Their animals
are their only riches; and Mina Tahr told me, that their tribe had
more than five thousand camels: on the milk of these animals they
entirely live for six months in the year, and for the remaining half
year they manage to raise from their barren soil sufficient _gussub_
(a species of millet) to satisfy their wants. Formerly, when they had
little or no communication with Fezzan and Bornou, they were nearly
naked, as their crops of cotton were scarcely sufficient, from the
dryness and poverty of the soil, to afford them covering. Now the
Kafilas bring them indigo, cotton, and ready-spun linen in strips,
with which they make tobes and wrappers: for these, when they are
not given as tribute, the Tibboos exchange the skins and feathers
of the ostrich, with dried meat of gazelles and bullocks.
Two of the horses were very handsome, though small; and on remarking
their extreme fatness, I was not a little surprised at learning that
they were fed entirely on camels’ milk, corn being too scarce
and valuable an article for the Tibboos to spare them: they drink
it both sweet and sour; and animals in higher health and condition
I scarcely ever saw. It is quite surprising with what terror these
children of the desert view the Arabs, and the idea they have of
their invincibility; while they are smart active fellows themselves,
and both ride and move better and quicker: but the guns! the guns! are
their dread; and five or six of them will go round and round a tree,
where an Arab has laid down his gun for a minute, stepping on tiptoe,
as if afraid of disturbing it, talking to each other in a whisper,
as if the gun could understand their exclamations; and I dare say,
praying to it not to do them an injury, as fervently as ever man
Friday did to Robinson Crusoe’s musket.
None of the Gunda Tibboos were above the middle size, slim, well made,
with sharp, intelligent, copper-coloured faces, large prominent eyes,
flat noses, large mouth and teeth, regular, but stained a deep red,
from the immoderate use of tobacco; the forehead is high; and the
turban, which is a deep indigo colour, is worn high on the head,
and brought under the chin and across the face, so as to cover all
the lower part from the nose downwards: they have sometimes fifteen
or twenty charms, in red, green, and black leather cases, attached
to the folds of their turbans.
Most of them have scars on different parts of their faces: these
generally denote their rank, and are considered as an ornament. Our
sheikh had one under each eye, with one more on each side of his
forehead, in shape resembling a half moon. Like the Arabs of the
north, their chieftainships are hereditary, provided the heir
is worthy; any act of cowardice disqualifies, and the command
devolves upon the next in succession. Our Gunda sheikh, Mina
Tahr-ben-Soogo-Lammo, was the seventh in regular succession. This
tribe is called Nafra Gunda, and are always near Beere-Kashifery.
My watch pleased him wonderfully at first; but after a little time,
I found that looking at himself in the bright part of the inside of
the case gave him the greatest satisfaction: they are vainer than
the vainest. Mina Tahr had the finest clothes on that had ever been
brought to Beere-Kashifery; and what to him could be so agreeable
as contemplating the reflection of his own person so decked out? I
could not help giving him a small looking-glass; and he took his
station in one corner of my tent for hours, surveying himself with
a satisfaction that burst from his lips in frequent exclamations of
joy, and which he also occasionally testified by sundry high jumps
and springs into the air.
Jan. 31.—After regaining the road, we moved until noon, when
our horses were watered at a well called Kanimani (or the sheep’s
well), where some really sweet milk was brought us in immensely large
basket bottles, some holding two gallons and more. We had drank,
and acknowledged its goodness, and how grateful it was to our weak
stomachs, before finding out that it was camels’ milk.
No traveller in Africa should imagine that _this_ he could not bear,
or _that_ could not be endured. It is wonderful how a man’s taste
conforms itself to his necessities. Six months ago, camels’ milk
would have acted upon us as an emetic; now we thought it a most
refreshing and grateful cordial. The face of the country improved
in appearance every mile. We passed along to-day what seemed to us
a most joyous valley, smiling in flowery grasses, tulloh trees, and
kossom. About mid-day, we halted in a luxurious shade, the ground
covered with creeping vines of the colycinth in full blossom, which,
with the red flower of the kossom which drooped over our heads,
made our resting-place a little Arcadia. Towards the evening, we
saw two very large black vultures (_aglou_, in Bornou), but were
not near enough to shoot them; and at sun-set we pitched the tents,
surrounded by forage for our horses, while the half-famished camels
fed on the young branches of the tulloh. The place was called Auoul
Mull (before Mull).