Being enabled to collect a good deal of information, as far as my
situation allowed, I did not choose to accompany the Sheikh when he
again went to the tents on the 24th of January. He promised that he
would only stay a day or two, but he did not return until the 29th. On
this occasion I took the liberty of reminding him that he was not over-
scrupulous in keeping his word; but, in his amiable way, he evasively
replied, “that if a person had only one fault, or ‘ʿaíb,’ it was of no
consequence.” Among my informants at this time, two Kanúri travellers,
who had visited all the countries of the Wángaráwa, or Eastern
Mandingoes, and one of whom had penetrated even as far as the Gold
Coast, were most distinguished. Besides a good deal of information,
especially with regard to the topography of the country of Mósi, they
gave me an account of the petty struggle between the Swedish and the
Tonáwa or Asanti; and they also informed me that the Mósi people had
plundered the villages of Dúna, Kúbo, and Isáy, all of them belonging to
the province of Dalla, which we had passed on our road hither, and
where, they said, no inhabitants were now left. The sheikho Áhmedu,
after having collected an expedition against the Íregenáten, had changed
his plans, in order to march against the mountain stronghold of Konna;
but, as we afterwards heard, he was repulsed by the natives, the Sáro,
who, relying upon their strong position, defended themselves with great
valour.
Meanwhile, the salt, the staple produce of Timbúktu, gradually became
dearer, the large “rás” fetching now 3800 shells; for, as I have stated,
the price constantly increases, caravans not being enabled to visit the
place during the following months, till the end of April, on account of
the large blood-flies infesting the river. A small caravan containing
from forty to fifty camels, which arrived on the 28th, was one of the
latest that came into the town.
Thus ended the month of January, with utter disappointment at the
failure of my expected departure, and with nothing but empty promises.
After a sleepless night, I awoke on the 1st of February full of anxiety.
I felt really afraid lest my host, notwithstanding his friendly
disposition towards me, might keep me here the whole summer. At length I
eased my mind in a slight degree by writing a letter to the Sheikh,
wherein I made him a witness against himself, in having so repeatedly
given me his word, that I should certainly leave this city and proceed
on my home journey. But matters, indeed, now looked more serious,
another Púllo officer of well-known energy, viz. Átkar, the governor of
Gúndam and Díre, having arrived with a considerable troop of armed men
from Hamda-Állahi, and another man of still more importance, Áhmed el
Férreji, was soon expected. The Fúlbe seemed fully resolved to vindicate
their power and authority over the town; and, in order to show that they
were masters of the place, they exacted this year a tribute of 2000
shells on each slave with great severity.
Uncertain as were my prospects, I contrived to pass my time usefully by
applying myself to the study of the idiom of the Western Tawárek, with
Mohammed ben Khottár, the Sheikh’s nephew, and a Tárki of the name of
Músa, for my teachers. Thus endeavouring to master my impatience, I
listened with composure to the several rumours which were repeatedly
spread with regard to the arrival of the various brothers of the Sheikh,
an event which, according to his statement, formed now the only reason
for delaying my departure. But in a long private conversation which I
had with him on the 4th, when I urged him more than usual, he began to
appeal to my humane feelings, and, discarding all political motives,
confessed that the chief reason which detained him was the pregnancy of
his wife, and earnestly begged me to await the result of this event.
All this time, on account of the unusual height which the inundation had
reached this year, a great deal of sickness prevailed in the town; and
among the various people who fell a sacrifice to the disease was the son
of Táleb Mohammed, the richest and most influential Arab merchant in the
place, whose life I should have liked very much to save; but, seeing
that the cure was very uncertain, I thought it more prudent (as I always
did in such cases) not to give him any medicine at all.
Having staid several days in the town, we again went out to the tents in
the afternoon of the 8th, in the company of Rummán and Mushtába, two
Tawárek chiefs who had come to pay the Sheikh a visit. On emerging from
the Áberaz, I had with the latter a horse-race to some distance. As the
Fullán seemed to have some projects against the Tawárek, and had
strengthened their military power in the town of Gúndam, these Berber
tribes were very much irritated against the former; they had even made
an attack on a boat, and killed one of the Fullán and wounded another,
while those of their tribe who were settled nearest to Gúndam thought it
more prudent to change their dwelling-place, and to migrate further
eastward.
According to the profession of the two chiefs who accompanied us, they
did not wish to be at peace with that warlike tribe which is daily
spreading in every direction; but, notwithstanding their personal
valour, the Tawárek are so wanting in unity that they can never follow
any line of policy with very great results, while those who have a
little property of their own are easily gained over by the other party.
Thus, instead of sticking closely to the Sheikh, and enabling him to
make a firm stand against the Fullán, they seriously affected his
interest at this time, by plundering, disarming, and slaying four
Tawáti, who belonged to a small caravan that arrived on the 11th, and
who, like all their countrymen, enjoyed the special protection of the
Sheikh.
My friend seemed at this moment to doubt the arrival of his brothers,
not less than that of Alkúttabu, the great chief of the Awelímmiden, and
endeavoured to console me for the long delay of my departure by saying
that it was the custom with them to keep their guests at least a year in
their company. He informed me, at the same time, that he wanted to make
me a present of a horse, and that I might then, if I liked, give one of
my own horses to Alkúttabu. He was this day more communicative than
usual, and sat a long time with me and his pupils, delivering to us a
lecture on the equal rank of the prophets, who, he said, had each of
them one distinguishing quality, but that none of them ought to be
preferred to the other. He dwelt particularly on the distinguished
qualities of Moses, or Músa, who was a great favourite with him,
although he was far from being friendly disposed towards the Jews, the
spirit of Mohammed Ben ʿAbd el Kerím el Maghíli, who hated that nation
from the bottom of his heart, and preached the Jihád against it, having
communicated itself to the Mohammedan inhabitants of this part of
Negroland.
At another time my friend entered, without any prejudice, into the
subject of wine and pork, and he had not much to say against the
argument with which I used to defend myself from attacks in this
respect; viz. that while we believed religion to concern the soul and
the dealings of men towards each other, we thought all that regarded
food was left by the Creator to man himself; but, of course, he would
have been greatly shocked if he had beheld the scenes exhibited every
evening by gin palaces in the midst of the very acme of European
civilisation.
At other times again, taking out of his small library the Arabic version
of Hippocrates, which he valued extremely, he was very anxious for
information as to the identity of the plants mentioned by the Arab
authors. This volume of Hippocrates had been a present from Captain
Clapperton to Sultan Bello of Sókoto, from whom my friend had received
it among other articles as an acknowledgment of his learning. I may
assert, with full confidence, that those few books taken by the gallant
Scotch captain into Central Africa have had a greater effect in
reconciling the men of authority in Africa to the character of
Europeans, than the most costly present ever made to them; and I hope,
therefore, that gifts like these may not be looked upon grudgingly by
people who would otherwise object to do anything which might seem to
favour Mohammedanism.
We staid at the tents till the 14th; the time, on this occasion, hanging
less heavily upon my hands than formerly, in consequence of the more
cheerful and communicative disposition of my host, and because I was
able to gather some little information. The weather, too, was more
genial. We had a really warm day on the 13th, and I employed the fine
morning in taking a long walk over the several small sandy ridges which
intersect this district. There were just at the time very few people
about here who might cause me any danger, and I only fell in with the
goatherds, who were feeding their flocks by cutting down those branches
of the thorny trees which contained young offshoots and leaves. But the
Sheikh, having received some private information, suspected that our
enemies might make another attempt against my safety; and having
requested me to send my servant, ʿAbd-Alláhi, into the town, in the
course of the day, to inform my people that we were about to return, he
mounted with me, after the moon had risen, and we again entered our old
quarters.
[Sidenote: February 16th.]
This morning one of my men, the Zaberma half-caste, Sambo, whom I had
taken into my service at the residence of Galaijo, came to request to be
dismissed my service. In the afternoon I went to pay my respects to the
Sheikh, and was rather astonished to hear him announce my departure more
seriously and more firmly than usual: but the reason was, that he had
authentic news that his elder brother, Sídi Mohammed, whose arrival he
had been expecting so long, and whom he wanted to leave in his stead
when obliged to escort me the first part of my journey, was close at
hand. The big drum having really announced his arrival at the tents, we
mounted on horseback, half an hour before midnight, and arrived at the
encampment a little before two o’clock in the morning. Here everything,
notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, bore a festive character, and
a large tent had been pitched for the noble visitor at the foot of the
hilly slope, the top of which was occupied by the Sheikh’s own tents.
The eldest member of this princely family was a man a little above the
middle height and strongly built, with a fine commanding expression of
countenance, and manners more stern and warlike than those of El Bakáy,
but not wanting in affability and natural cheerfulness. In the position
in which I was placed, as a stranger, not only of a foreign country and
nationality, but of an opposite creed, and as the cause of so many
difficulties to these people in their political affairs, I could not
expect that this man would receive me, at our first interview, with
remarkable kindness and cordiality. It was therefore not to be wondered
at that, in the beginning, he asked me a great many questions which it
was not agreeable for me to answer in the presence of strangers.
Next day, Hammádi, the son of El Mukhtár, the near relative of El Bakáy,
and the latter’s chief adversary, and therefore my enemy, arrived with
several followers at the encampment. El Bakáy constrained himself, for
his elder brother’s sake, to remain in the same tent with Hammádi; but
Sídi Alawáte, the younger and more reckless brother, was not to be
persuaded to enter the tent as long as his hated cousin was there. He
spent the day in my tent till his enemy was gone. Sídi Mohammed did not
seem to be at all unfavourably disposed towards Hammádi, and wanted even
to enter the town in his company; but he was obliged to yield to the
combined efforts of his two younger brothers, who refused the company of
their cousin.
This was the first opportunity I had of seeing Hammádi, with whom I had
wished from the beginning to be on friendly terms, but was forced by the
policy of my host to avoid all intercourse with him, and thus to make
him my adversary, as he was that of the Sheikh. I had received a
favourable account of his learning from different quarters; but his
personal appearance was certainly not very prepossessing. He was of a
stout figure, with broad coarse features, strongly marked with the
small-pox, and of a very dark complexion, his descent from a female
slave being his chief disadvantage.
Sídi Mohammed was very anxious to get into the town, but El Bakáy, with
his usual slowness, and perhaps this time longer detained by the
interesting situation of his wife, made his appearance at a very late
hour in the afternoon, and endeavoured to defer our departure till the
next day; but his elder brother was too energetic to be thus put off,
and having given sufficient vent to his dissatisfaction on account of
the too great influence which Mrs. Bák (that was the name of El Bakáy’s
wife) exercised over his brother, and asking me with an ingenious turn
whether I knew who was more influential than sheikho Áhmedu ben Áhmedu
and lorded it over his brother, he mounted his horse and sent his young
nephew to tell his father that he was ready and was expecting him. Thus
forced against his own inclination, the Sheikh at length disengaged
himself from his family, and we went into the town in the company of a
few horsemen who had come out to pay their respects to Sídi Mohammed,
firing a few shots as we entered the place.
Of course, in a town where no strong government is established, and
where every great man exercised all the influence and power of which he
was capable, due homage and tribute were to be rendered to this
potentate of the desert who came to honour it with a visit. A musical
performance took place in front of the house of the Sheikh, where he
took up his quarters; and each foreign merchant prepared a gift,
according to his wealth, by which to obtain the protection of this man,
or rather to forestall his intrigues. These gifts were by no means
small; and I felt a great deal of compassion for my friend ʿAlí ben
Táleb, whose present, although by no means trifling, was sent back by
Sídi Mohammed as neither adequate to the dignity of the receiver nor to
that of the giver. I myself also found it necessary to make to this
dignitary a respectable present. I gave him the finest bernús or Arab
mantle which I had still left, besides a black tobe, and sundry smaller
articles.
In other respects the town at this time became rather quieter, and trade
was more dull. The small caravan of the Tájakánt, some members of which
had only spent a few days in the town, left on the 20th; and the only
articles which they took with them were salt and a little calico. Even
directly from the north, along the most frequented route, the trade
became insignificant; and a party of merchants who arrived from Tawát on
the following day was exceedingly small. Among them were two respectable
Ghadámsíye merchants, but having resided three or four months in Tawát,
they brought neither recent news nor letters for me. However, they came
just in time, as on the 22nd a countryman of theirs, of some importance,
died, and I learned on this occasion something about the property of
merchants in this place. The deceased was a tolerably wealthy man; among
the property which he left there being found about 2000 mithkál in gold,
a considerable sum of money for this place, although it did not belong
to himself, but to the Tíniyan, or the well-known Ghadámsi family of the
Tíni, whose agent he was. The house where he lived was worth 200
mithkál.
Having, while in the town, much time at my disposal, and only little
intercourse with the people, I had made ready another parcel containing
the information which I had been able to collect for sending to Europe;
and it was well that I had done so, as early on the 26th a small troop
of poor Tawáti traders left for their native home. But, unfortunately,
this parcel did not find Her Britannic Majesty’s agent to whom it was
addressed at Ghadámes, as he had left his post for the Crimea; and thus
my family was thrown into the deepest grief in consequence of the rumour
of my death; all my effects were buried; and when I arrived at length in
Háusa, where I had reckoned to find every thing that I wanted, I found
even the supplies which I had left drawn away from me, as from a dead
man.
Almost the whole of January and the beginning of February had been in
general cold, with a thick and foggy atmosphere, well representing that
season which the Tawárek call with the emphatic and expressive name “the
black nights,” éhaden esáttafnén; and all this time the river was
continually rising or preserving the highest level which it had reached.
But on the 17th the river, after having puzzled us several times as to
its actual state, had really begun to decrease, and almost immediately
afterwards the weather became clearer and finer, thus testifying to the
assertion of the Tawárek—who have exchanged their abodes in the desert
for this border district along the river, as well as the Arabs, who give
to this season the name of the forty nights—that the river never begins
really to decrease before the end of this period. The greatest danger
from the inundation is just at this time, when the waters recede, as the
rising ground on which the hamlets along the shore are situated has been
undermined and frequently gives way; and we received intelligence on the
22nd that the hamlet of Bétagungu, which is situated between Kábara and
Gúndam, had been destroyed in this manner.
Although I had enjoyed a greater degree of security for some time, my
situation, after a short respite, soon assumed again a serious
character, and hostile elements were gathering from different quarters;
for, while a very important mission was just approaching from Hamda-
Alláhi, on the 25th we received the news that ʿAbidín, that member of
the family of Mukhtár who followed a policy entirely opposite to that of
El Bakáy, was reported to be near, and he was conducted into the town by
Hammádi with considerable display.
In the morning of the following day, just as the atmosphere changed from
bright to gloomy, a powerful Púllo officer, and a prince of the blood,
Hámedu, a son of Mohammed Lebbo, entered the town with a numerous troop
on horseback and on foot, among whom were ten musketeers. They marched
past my house on purpose, although the direct road from Kábara did not
lead that way, in order to frighten me, while I, with the intention of
showing them that they had entirely failed in their object, opened the
door of my house, displaying in the hall all my firearms, and my people
close at hand ready to use them.
But my little band became more and more reduced, for when the chief of
my followers, the Méjebrí, ʿAlí el Ágeren, saw a fresh storm gathering
against me, he disclaimed any further obligation towards me,
notwithstanding the salary which he continued to receive. But, as I had
given him up long before, this further manifestation of his
faithlessness did not make a great impression upon me. On the other
hand, I had attached to myself, by the present which I had bestowed upon
him, the eldest brother of the family upon whose good-will, under the
present circumstances, a great deal depended.
Thus approached the 27th of February, when the real character of the
mission from Hamda-Alláhi, of which Hámedu had only been the forerunner,
was disclosed. Having been in a lazy and rather melancholy mood the
whole day, I was reclining on my simple couch in the evening, when I was
surprised by the Sheikh’s nephew entering abruptly, and, although
betraying by his sad and serious countenance that something very grave
oppressed his mind, yet squatting silently down without being able or
feeling inclined to say a word. Scarcely had he left me, when my Tawáti
friend, Mohammed el ʿAísh, who continued to show me a great deal of
kindness and sympathy, called me into the Sheikh’s presence. I was
ushered in with great precaution through the hall and up the narrow
winding staircase, and found the three brothers in the terrace-room
engaged in serious consultation.
After I had taken my seat, they informed me that the Fullán were making
a last attempt against my safety, and that, together with Kaúri, the
former emír, a distinguished nobleman of the name of Mohammed el
Férreji, had arrived in Kábara accompanied by a troop of about one
hundred men, and that the latter messenger had addressed to my host two
letters of very different character and tenour, one being full of
manifestations of friendship, and the other couched in most threatening
terms, to the effect that something serious would happen if he did not
send me off before he (Férreji) entered the town. But, no active course
of proceedings was resolved upon, although Mohammed, who was the most
energetic of the three, proposed that we should mount on horseback and
pass the night on the road to Kábara, partly in order to prevent the
inhabitants of the town from joining the Fullán in that place, in
conformity with the order which they had received, partly in order to
intercept anything that might come from the hostile camp. While
proposing this energetic measure, the chief of Ázawád was playing with
his four-barreled musket, which, even under these momentous
circumstances, excited my curiosity almost more than anything else, as I
had never seen anything like it in Europe. It was of excellent
workmanship, but I could not say of what peculiar character, as it did
not bear any distinct mark of nationality. Of course I suspected, when I
first beheld it, that it had belonged to the late unfortunate Major
Laing, but I was distinctly assured by all the people, though I would
scarcely believe it, that this was not the case, and that it had been
purchased from American traders at Portendik. At present it was rather
short, the uppermost part having been taken off in consequence of an
accident; but it was nevertheless a very useful weapon and not at all
heavy. It was made for flints, there being only two cocks, but a cannon
to each barrel.
Having discussed various proposals with regard to my safety, with
characteristic slowness, and coupling serious observations with various
amusing stories, Sídi Mohammed sat down and wrote a formal protest in my
favour, and sent it to the emír Kaúri. However, I doubt whether, on a
serious inquiry, this paper would have been regarded by Christians as
very flattering to their position in the world; the principal argument
brought forward by my noble friend and protector for not dealing with me
in so cruel a manner being, that I was not “ákáfir” than the “ráís,”
meaning that I was not a greater “káfir,” or unbeliever, than Major
Laing; for, besides not being very complimentary, it left it open to our
adversaries to reply, that they did not intend to treat me worse than
the Major had been treated, who, as is well known, having been forced to
leave the town, was barbarously murdered in the desert.
A messenger from the emír having arrived, the Sheikh himself made a long
speech, telling him under what circumstances I had reached this place,
and that now I had once placed myself under his protection, there was
nothing but honourable peace, both for himself and his guest, or war.
Upon this the messenger observed in an ironical manner, that, El Férreji
(who had been sent to compromise with the Sheikh) being a learned man
like himself, everything would end well; meaning, that they would know,
if not able to succeed by force, how to vanquish him with arguments
taken from their creed. Another protest having been sent to Táleb
Mohammed, who, as I stated before, although nothing but a merchant,
exercised a great political influence in this anarchical place, I went
home to refresh myself with a cup of tea, and then made preparations for
the eventual defence of my house, and for hiding the more valuable of my
effects: after which I returned to the residence of El Bakáy, about
midnight, and found the holy man himself, armed with a double-barreled
gun, about to enter the great segífa, or parlour, which he had allotted
to his faithful and discreet storekeeper, Táleb el Wáfi. Here we sat
down; and soon about forty men gathered round us, armed partly with
spears and partly with muskets, when, after a great deal of useless talk
as to what was to be done, it was agreed upon to send one messenger to
the Tawárek chiefs, Rummán and Mushtába, whose acquaintance I had made
on a former occasion, and who at present were encamped in Mushérrek, a
locality rich in pasture-grounds and well protected by three branches of
the river, to the south-west of the town,—and another messenger to our
friends the Kel-úlli, in order to summon these people to our assistance.
Meanwhile the Sheikh, seated on the raised platform of clay which
occupied the left corner of the parlour, entertained the sleepy assembly
with stories of the prophets, especially Músa and Mohammed, and the
victories achieved by the latter, in the beginning of his career, over
his numerous adversaries. The quiet of the listless assembly was only
disturbed for a time by a shriek issuing from the northern part of the
town, and everybody snatched his gun and ran out; but it was soon found
that the alarm was caused by our own messengers, who, on leaving the
place, had disturbed the repose of the inhabitants of the suburb, or
“Áberaz,” the latter supposing them to belong to a foray of the
predatory and enterprising Welád ʿAlúsh, who were then infesting Ázawád.
Having thus sat up the whole night, full of curious reflections on these
tragi-comic scenes, I returned to my quarters about five o’clock in the
morning, and endeavoured to raise my exhausted spirits by means of some
coffee. However, our precautions, insufficient as they might seem to a
European, had had their full effect, and the Púllo messenger did not
dare to enter the town before noon, and even then, although joined by
about sixty horsemen from the townspeople, was afraid to traverse our
warlike quarter.
Meanwhile Sídi Mohammed and Álawáte had left the town with a troop of
armed men, under the pretext of observing the movements of the enemy,
but perhaps in order to show them that they themselves did not coincide
with all the views of the Sheikh. Going then to the residence, I found
nearly two hundred people assembled there, most of them armed, and
including among their number even the Púllo, Mohammed ben ʿAbd-Alláhi,
who did not conceal the greater friendship he felt for the Sheikh than
for his own countrymen, the Fúlbe of Hamda-Alláhi. While I was there,
Mohammed Sʿaíd, the officer who had been sent to capture me on a
previous occasion, was despatched as a messenger by Férreji, the new
officer; and, under the present circumstances, disguising all hostile
intentions, he was desirous to know what was the reason of this show of
arms; such not being in accordance with the Sheikh’s former character,
and it being rather his duty to bestow hospitable treatment upon his old
friend, El Férreji.
Although this was rather a curious distortion of facts, I was still more
astonished at the answer of the Sheikh, who replied, that he had only
followed the example of his two brothers. But the business was not
settled in this manner. Late in the evening there was another serious
consultation in the terrace-room of the Sheikh, and Sídi Álawáte was
despatched to Férreji to elicit from him an indication of his real
intentions. Sídi Mohammed, meanwhile, in order to pass away the time,
opened a cheerful and jocose conversation, by questioning me respecting
the social position and the various relations of the other sex in my own
country,—a subject which always possesses a great deal of attraction,
even amongst the most serious of the Mohammedans.
Having then been obliged to withdraw, as Álawáte had pretended that he
could only communicate his message from the officer sent from Hamda-
Alláhi to El Bakáy himself, I returned home; but, long after midnight, I
received a visit from the latter, who came to inform me that Férreji had
brought nothing but favourable letters from Hamda-Alláhi, having
written, as he said, the threatening letter from Kábara merely at the
instigation of the Sahelíye, or merchants from Morocco; and that he
himself, on his part, had assured Férreji that, if Sheikho Áhmedu left
me alone, I should be forwarded on my home journey after a short delay;
but adding, that the Fúlbe ought to assist him from the public revenue,
in order to hasten my departure.
The same day I witnessed an interesting episode in the private life of
these people. The Sheikh’s mother-in-law having died, he went to pray
for her soul at the “ródha,” or sepulchre, of Sídi Mukhtár, a sacred
locality a few hundred yards on the east side of the town, which in my
career in this place was to become of greater importance to me. Such is
the reverence which these Arabs have for the female portion of their
tribe. There are, moreover, several women famed for the holiness of
their life, and even authoresses of well-digested religious tracts,
among the tribe of the Kunta.
Political circumstances were not quite so favourable as my host wanted
to represent them to me; as, like many other people, he was not very
particular, when endeavouring to obtain a good object, about saying
things that were not quite true: and the following day, when Férreji
paid a visit to the Sheikh, he designated me as a war-chief and a
“mehárebi,” or freebooter, who ought not to be allowed to remain any
longer in the town. Altogether it was fortunate that El Bakáy had
provided for the worst by sending for the Kel-úlli, who arrived in the
course of the afternoon, about sixty strong, with great military
demonstrations and beating of shields. It was on this occasion that I
first made the acquaintance of this warlike tribe, who, notwithstanding
their degraded position as Imghád, have made themselves conspicuous by
totally annihilating the formerly powerful tribe of the Ígelád and
Ímedídderen, who in former times ruled over Timbúktu and were hostile to
the Kunta. The Kél-úlli are distinguished among all the tribes of the
neighbourhood by three qualities which, to the European, would scarcely
seem possible to be united in the same person, but which are not
unfrequently found combined in the Arab tribes, viz. “réjela,” or
valour; “sírge,” or thievishness; and “dhiyáfa,” or generous
hospitality.