The locality of Izéberen, where we had encamped, was not at all
inviting, as it was but scantily provided with trees. Here we gave up
our journey eastward, and again commenced our retrograde movement
towards Timbúktu. I was now filled with the saddest forebodings; for
after three or four days spent in vain dispute between the Sheikh and
Ákhbi, the chief of the Igwádaren, who was encamped here, the latter
persisted in his rebellious conduct against his liege lord Alkúttabu;
and, instead of restoring what he had taken from the tribes placed under
the protection of the latter, he made up his mind to follow the
instigations of the Sheikh’s enemy and rival, Hammádi, and to throw
himself into the arms of the Fúlbe and of the chief of Hamda-Alláhi. He
thus caused an immense disturbance in this whole region; and in fact a
bloody war broke out soon after my safe departure.
The encampment at Izéberen, to which this sad remembrance attaches, was
tolerably enlivened with some interesting people, including as well some
kinsmen of Ákhbi, as more especially the sons of Ég el Henne, Wóghdugu,
and his brethren, Mohammed, Aníti, and Míni, all of whom are of a very
cheerful disposition, and (as far as it is possible for a Tárki to be
so) even amiable men. Among the former there was a boy named Kúngu,
whose arrogance at first was a little troublesome, but eventually he
became one of my best friends, and even now occupies a foremost place in
my remembrance. He was a nephew of Ákhbi’s, and his father had been
distinguished for his valour and warlike enterprise, but had been killed
in battle at an early age, like most of the kinsfolk of this chief, so
that the boy was brought up and educated by his mother, Tatináta, who
was a daughter of Áwáb, the chief of the Tademékket whom I have
repeatedly mentioned on former occasions.
Ákhbi himself was a man of about forty years of age, good-looking, but
of an overbearing character. His father, Sálem, who had died a few
months before at a very advanced age, had been distinguished by his
intelligence, while Ákhbi, as soon as he acceded to power, had broken
his allegiance to his liege lord, and entered into open hostilities with
him. He had allowed his own small tribe, which scarcely numbered more
than two hundred fighting men, to be divided into two hostile
encampments, and in consequence of that feud had sustained a very heavy
loss amongst his own followers. His quarrel with Alkúttabu was evidently
a consequence of the intrigues of the Fúlbe and Hammádi, who, seeing
that the political power of the Sheikh El Bakáy was based upon his
friendship with the chief of the Awelímmiden, used all his endeavours to
raise up an adversary to the latter; and the progress of this struggle,
of which I did not see the end, may have been productive of great
changes in the political relations of Timbúktu.
The endeavour to preserve the unity of the whole tribe of the
Awelímmiden, which my protector had sincerely at heart, and thus to keep
up the friendly relation of this tribe with that of the Igwádaren,
induced him to postpone my interests, and to return once more westward,
in order to exert his utmost to settle this serious affair. For the very
tribe of the Igwádaren, from the first, when they were settled in
Ázawád, had been the protectors of the Kunta, the tribe to which the
family of Mukhtár belonged, and had especially defended them against the
hostilities of the Ígelád, by whose subjection the former had founded
their power. El Bakáy could not but see with the most heartfelt sorrow
his former supporters likely to become the auxiliaries of his enemies;
and his brother, Sídi Mohammed, whom he had left to fill his place in
Timbúktu during his absence, had sent an express messenger from the
town, requesting him to come, in order that he might consult with him
upon the state of affairs.
As for myself, being anxious about my own interest, and fearing even for
my life, which I was convinced was seriously threatened by another
return towards Timbúktu, I employed every means in my power to persuade
my friend to allow me to pursue my journey eastward, in the company of
those pupils and followers of his whom he had promised to send along
with me. But he would not consent to this, and I felt extremely dejected
at the time, and could not but regard this retrograde journey to
Timbúktu as a most unfortunate event.
Just at this time the news was brought, by way of Ghadámes, of the
French having completely vanquished the Shaamba, and made an expedition
to Wárgelá and Metlíli. In consequence of this report, the fear of the
progress of these foreign and hated intruders into the interior of these
regions became very general, and caused suspicion to attach to me, as
these people could not but think that my journey to their country had
some connection with the expedition of the French. But, taking all the
circumstances into account, I found afterwards that my friend was
altogether right in postponing for the time my journey eastward.
[Sidenote: Sunday, April 30th.]
This was the sad day when, with the most gloomy forebodings, I began my
return journey towards the west. There had been the most evident signs
of the approach of the rainy season, which in the zone further to the
south had already set in, when, after so many reiterated delays, I was
obliged once more to return towards that very place which I had felt so
happy in having at length left behind me.
My protector was well aware of the state of my feelings, and while the
people were loading the camels he came to me, and once more excused
himself on account of this retrograde movement. There were, besides
myself, some Arabs of the tribe of Gwanín, who wanted to go on to
Ghérgo, in order to buy tobacco, and who now likewise were obliged to
return once more to the westward, as they had no guarantee for their
security in making the journey alone.
The splendid river along the banks of which lay our road, and which here
was about half a mile across, afforded the only consolation in my
cheerless mood. The junction of the two branches, as seen from this
spot, presented a very fine spectacle. The gerredh trees also, which
were in full blossom, attracted my attention.
Keeping a little nearer to the sandy downs, we soon reached the place of
our former encampment in Taútilt. Having then passed along the small
backwater of Barkánge, the volume of which had greatly decreased in
these few days, we encamped about four miles beyond, in the open swampy
ground which we had had such difficulty in crossing on our outward
journey. It is called Erásar. In this low ground, between two swamps and
about 800 yards from the bank of the river, without the shade of the
smallest tree, the Igwádaren had encamped. It was owing to these swampy
sites that I was afflicted with those severe rheumatic pains, from which
I afterwards suffered so much in Bórnu, and which I occasionally feel
even now.
The place was the more disagreeable, as we remained here the three
following days, El Bakáy endeavouring all the time to persuade the chief
Ákhbi to restore the property which he had taken from the subjects of
his liege lord. I was in the mean time, anxious to keep up a friendly
intercourse with the people with whom I was thus brought into contact,
although most of the Igwádaren had already gone on in advance to their
new retreat, and at that time were collected at Ernésse; while the
straightforward and fearless chief Wóghdugu, and his friend Shamuwél,
were still behind. I took a great interest in the name of the latter;
for I thought that the names of Shamuwél, Sául, and Daniél—all being of
frequent occurrence among this tribe, while, as far as I am aware, none
of them is found among the Arabs,—tend to confirm the closer relation
which these Berbers keep up with the Canaanitic tribes than with the
Arabs. There was, in particular, a man of the name of Sáma, who was very
friendly with me. On reading with him some writing in “Tefínaghen,” or
the native Berber character, I became aware that this word signifies
nothing more than tokens or alphabet. For as soon as the people beheld
my books, and observed that they all consisted of letters, they
exclaimed repeatedly, “Tefínaghen—ay—Tefínaghen!” and my little friend
Kúngu, who had just learned the Arabic alphabet, was very anxious to
know something about the value of the letters. I here also had proof of
the great dislike which the Tawárek have to the name of their father
being mentioned, for when the little Haibálla, the companion of the son
of the Sheikh, mentioned the death of Kúngu’s father, the little fellow
flew into a great rage, and was ready to kill him on the spot.
I received, besides, a great deal of information from a young man who
had lately come from the north, in order to study under the Sheikh. He
belonged to the Welád Yoʿaza, a section of the tribe of the Méshedúf,
which originally appears to have been of pure Berber extraction, being
identical with the celebrated tribe of the Masúfa, but who, at present,
have become Arabicised. He was evidently a man of a good family; but
being now rather scantily supplied with food, he took refuge with me, in
order to enjoy my hospitality. On this occasion I learned from him a
great deal with regard to some districts of the desert, with which I had
been unacquainted.
In the same encampment, we received full confirmation of the news with
regard to the progress of the French towards the south, and of their
having taken possession of Wárgelá. The excitement produced in
consequence was very great, and made my situation extremely difficult
and dangerous. The Sheikh El Bakáy came twice in the same afternoon to
me, expressing his intention of uniting the strength of the Tawátíye and
the Awelímmiden in a common attack upon the French. But I endeavoured to
show him the absurdity of such a proceeding, telling him that they
themselves would gain nothing by such inconsiderate conduct, and would
only furnish a fresh pretext to the French for penetrating farther into
the interior. Moreover, I gave it as my opinion, that the latter, unless
instigated, would not undertake such a thing as a military expedition to
these distant regions, but would endeavour to open commercial
intercourse with them in a peaceful manner. There the matter stopped for
the moment.
[Sidenote: Thursday, May 4th.]
All the exertions of the Sheikh to persuade Ákhbi to return the property
which he had taken by force from the tribes placed under the protection
of the Awelímmiden being in vain, the latter broke up his encampment, in
order to pursue his journey westward in search of new protectors and
allies. To prevent the mischief which might result from this course, my
friend followed, and I was obliged reluctantly to accompany him. The
river had fallen considerably since I had last visited this district,
and the scanty foliage of the lower part of the trees in the swampy
tract which we traversed in the beginning of our march, bore evident
testimony to the higher state of the water some time before.
Leaving then our former camping-ground in Tens-aróri on one side, we
encamped after a march of a little more than six miles, on ground which
was still so extremely damp that almost all my luggage was spoiled,
while it likewise exercised a most unfavourable effect upon my health.
We had previously had evident signs of the approach of the rainy season;
but, to-day, we had the first regular shower accompanied by a
thunderstorm, and rain fell round about us in a much more considerable
quantity. The Tawárek were well aware that this was the real beginning
of the rainy season, giving vent to their feelings in the words “ákase
yúse”—“the rainy season has set in;” but my Arab companions, who
repeatedly assured me that long before the setting in of the rainy
season I should certainly reach Sókoto, would not acknowledge this as a
regular rain, but qualified it as quite an exceptional phenomenon
connected with the setting of the “Pleiads,” and calling it in sequence,
“mághreb el thrayá.”
There was a great dread of lions in our encampment. I especially was
warned to be on my guard, as my camping-ground, which I had surrounded
with a fence, closely approached a jungle of rank grass; but we passed
the night unmolested.
[Sidenote: Friday, May 5th.]
Although I had been promised that we should certainly not pass this
place on our return westward, nevertheless, in the morning the order was
suddenly given to decamp; and on we went, Ákhbi in the van and we in the
rear, passing many small temporary encampments of the Igwádaren, who
were exiling themselves from their own country. Having thus made a short
march of about four miles, through a country now rising in sandy downs,
covered with siwák and dúm-bush, at other times spreading out in low
swampy meadow-grounds, and leaving Índikuway on our left, we encamped
again in the midst of a swamp, at a short distance from the bank of the
river. Fortunately, there was some rising ground, opening a fine view
over the river, which here formed an arm of about 600 yards in breadth,
while the opposite shore of Áribínda exhibited a very pleasant
background. Cautiously I pitched my tent as high as possible, with the
door looking towards the river, in order to console myself with the
aspect of the stream. A beautiful jéja or caoutchouc tree, here called
énderen, which I scarcely remember to have seen anywhere else in the
whole of this district, gave life and animation to the encampment. A few
miles towards the west, the high sandy downs of Úle Tehárge formed also
an object of great interest.
It was extremely fortunate that the ground of this encampment did not
present such a uniform level as in our last day’s ámazágh, for in the
afternoon we were visited by a violent tempest, which threw back the
fence that we had erected around our camping-ground, upon ourselves and
our horses, and threatened to tear the tent to pieces: then, having made
the round of the whole horizon, it returned once more from the north and
discharged itself in a terrific shower, which lasted more than two
hours, and changed the whole of the lower part of the plain into a large
lake.
This thunderstorm afforded evident proofs of the full power of the rainy
season; and as I had not yet even begun my long journey eastward,
through districts so full of large rivers and of swampy valleys, my
feelings may be more easily imagined than described. I felt very
dissatisfied with the Sheikh El Bakáy, and he, on his part, was well
aware of it. His own trustworthy and amiable character inspired me with
the confidence that I should at length get safely out of all my trouble;
but an immense amount of Job-like patience was required, for we staid in
this encampment the five following days.
But we had a little intercourse with some remarkable persons which gave
me some occupation. The most interesting of the passers by were three
noble ladies of the tribe of the Kél-hekíkan, well mounted on camels in
an open cage, or jakhfa, of rather simple structure, with the exception
of the rich ornament on the head of the animal, as is represented in the
accompanying woodcut. But the ladies themselves afforded an interesting
sight, being well formed, of rather full proportions, though very
plainly dressed. Then the whole of the Igwádaren, male and female,
passed by close to my tent. There were, besides, the Kél-terárart and
the Kél-tamuláit, or, as the Arabs call them, Áhel e’ Sául; and I had a
long conversation with a troop of eight horsemen of the latter, who, in
the evening, came to my tent in order to pay their respects to me. I
reciprocated fully their protestations of friendship, and requested one
of the two kinsmen of the chief Sául, who were among this troop, to
accompany me on my journey eastward, promising to see him safe to Mekka.
But, although he greatly valued my offer, he was afraid of the Aréwan or
Kél-gerés, and of the inhabitants of Áír.
[Illustration]
There was a great congregation of different chiefs with the Sheikh El
Bakáy, and he flattered himself that he had made peace between
inveterate enemies, such as E’ Téni and Wóghdugu; but the sequel showed
that he was greatly mistaken, for these petty tribes cannot remain quiet
for a moment. Great numbers of the Shémman-Ámmas were hovering round us,
all of them begging for food. But my spirits were too much embittered to
exercise great hospitality from the small stock of my provisions, which
were fast dwindling away. Indeed, the stores which I had laid in, in the
hope that they would last me until I reached Say, were almost consumed,
and I was very glad to obtain a small supply of milk, which I usually
bought with looking-glasses, or rather rewarded the gifts of the people
by the acknowledgment of such a present. But these people were really
very miserably off, and almost in a starving condition, all their
property having been taken from them. They informed me that the
Igwádaren had plundered twelve villages along the Eghírrëu, among
others, those of Bámba, Égedesh, Aslíman, and Zómgoy.
The river was enlivened the whole day long with boats going up and down,
and some of the people asserted that these boats belonged to the Fúlbe,
who were looking out for an opportunity of striking a blow. The whole
world seemed to be in a state of revolution. The news from the north of
the advance of the French, the particulars of which, of course, could
not but become greatly exaggerated, as the report was carried from tribe
to tribe, excited my friend greatly, and the several letters, written by
the people of Tawát, who were resident in Timbúktu, having reference to
the same event, with which the messenger whom he had sent to that place
returned, did not fail to increase his anxiety.
All these people seemed to be inspired with the same fear, that the
French might without any further delay march from el Goléa, which they
were said to have occupied, upon Timbúktu, or at least upon Tawát. On
the whole it was very fortunate indeed that I was not in the town at
this conjuncture, as in the first excitement these very people from
Tawát, who previously had taken me under their especial protection, and
defended me repeatedly, would have contributed to my ruin, as, from
their general prejudice against a Christian, they lost all distinction
between English and French, and represented me as a spy whose
proceedings were connected with that expedition from the north.
They now urgently requested the Sheikh to write a letter to the whole
community of Tawát, and to stimulate them to make an attack upon Wárgelá
conjointly with the Hogár and Ázgar; but I did all in my power to
prevent him from acceding to such a proposal, although he thought that I
was greatly underrating the military strength of the people of Tawát.
However, although I succeeded in preventing such a bold stroke of
policy, I could not prevent his writing a letter to the French, in which
he interdicted them from penetrating further into the interior, or
entering the desert, under any pretext whatever, except as single
travellers. He also wanted me to write immediately to Tripoli, to
request that an Englishman should go as consul to Tawát; but I told him
that this was not so easily done, and that he must first be able to
offer full guarantee that the agent should be respected.
In my opinion it would be better if the French would leave the
inhabitants of Tawát to themselves, merely obliging them to respect
Europeans, and keep open the road to the interior; but although at that
time I was not fully aware of the intimate alliance which had been
entered into between the French and the English, I was persuaded that
the latter neither could nor would protect the people of Tawát against
any aggressive policy of the French, except by peaceable means, as Tawát
is pre-eminently situated within the range of their own commerce. If
both the English and French could agree on a certain line of policy with
regard to the tribes of the interior, those extensive regions might, I
think, be easily opened to peaceful intercourse. Be this as it may,
under the pressure of circumstances, I found myself obliged to affix my
name to the letter written by the Sheikh, as having been present at the
time, and candour imposed upon me the duty of not signing a wrong name.
All this excitement, which was disagreeable enough, had, however, one
great advantage for me, as I was now informed that letters had reached
my address, and that I should have them; but I was astonished to hear
that these letters had arrived in Ázawád some months previously. I
expostulated very strongly with my friend upon this circumstance,
telling him that if they wanted friendship and “imána,” or security of
intercourse with us, they ought to be far more strict in observing the
conditions consequent upon such a relation. I then received the promise
that I should have the letters in a few days.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, May 10th.]
Our hosts the Kél-gógi removed their encampment, and we followed them,
although my protector had repeatedly assured me that in our retrograde
movement we should certainly not have to pass the fine caoutchouc-tree
that adorned our encampment. Leaving the high sandy downs of Úle-
Tehárge, on the banks of the river, we kept around the extensive swampy
meadow-ground which spreads out behind them, several small encampments
of the wandering Tawárek enlivening the green border of the swamp.
Crossing, then, some rising ground beyond the reach of the wide expanse
of shallow backwaters connected with the river, we came to the well-
known creek of Amalélle, and followed its northerly shore till we
reached its source or head, where our friend Ákhbi had taken up his
encampment in the midst of a swampy meadow-ground, which afforded rich
pasture to his numerous herds of cattle; for, as I have had occasion
repeatedly to state, the Tawárek think nothing of encamping in the midst
of a swamp.
As for ourselves, we were obliged to look out for some better-protected
and drier spot, and therefore ascended the sandy downs, which rise to a
considerable elevation, and are well adorned with talha-trees and siwák,
or _Capparis sodata_. Having pitched my tent in the midst of an old
fence, or zeríba, I stretched myself out in the cool shade, and
forgetting for a moment the unpleasant character of my situation,
enjoyed the interesting scenery of the landscape, which was highly
characteristic of the labyrinth of backwaters and creeks which are
connected with this large river of Western Central Africa.
At the foot of the downs was the encampment of our friends the Tawárek,
with its larger and smaller leathern tents, some of them open and
presenting the interior of these simple movable dwellings; beyond, the
swampy creek, enlivened by a numerous herd of cattle half-immersed in
the water; then a dense border of vegetation, and beyond in the
distance, the white sandy downs of Ernésse, with a small strip of the
river. I made a sketch of this pleasant and animated locality, which is
represented in the plate opposite. The scenery was particularly
beautiful in the moonlight when I ascended the ridge of the downs, which
rise to about 150 feet in height. In the evening I received a little
milk from the wife of one of the chiefs of the Kél-gógi of the name of
Lámmege, who was a good-looking woman, and to whom I made a present of a
looking-glass and a few needles in return. The Tawárek, while they are
fond of their wives, and almost entirely abstain from polygamy, are not
at all jealous; and the degree of liberty which the women enjoy is
astonishing; but, according to all that I have heard, instances of
faithlessness are very rare among the nobler tribes. Among the degraded
sections, however, and especially among the Kél e’ Súk, female chastity
appears to be less highly esteemed, as we find to be the case also among
many Berber tribes at the time when El Bekrí wrote his interesting
account of Africa.[26]
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.