FINAL AND REAL START. — CREEKS ON THE NORTHERN BANKS OF THE NIGER. —
GHÉRGHO. — BAMBA.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, May 17th.]
About noon the whole encampment was thrown into a state of the greatest
excitement, by the arrival of two of the Sheikh’s followers, who
informed us that our friend had not only left the camp, but had even
passed us, keeping along the northern border of the swamp which
stretched behind our camping-ground. All was joy and excitement, and in
an instant my tent was struck, and my luggage arranged on the backs of
the camels. But we had to take a very roundabout way to get out of this
place, surrounded and insulated as it was by deep swamps, for with our
horses and camels, together with our heavy luggage, we could not think
of crossing the creek which entirely cuts off the downs of Úle-Tehárge.
We were thus obliged to return all the way to Belesáro, almost as far as
our previous fording-place between Amalélle and Ernésse. Here, cutting
through the swampy plain (which at present at this spot was for the
greater part dry), along the localities called Tín-éggedád, and further
on Oráken, we at length, having gained firm ground, were able to change
our direction to the east along Elíggedúf and Ewábe. We had just marched
three hours, when we found ourselves opposite our encampment on the
downs, separated from them by the swampy ground of about half a mile in
extent.
Uncertain as to the direction which our friend had taken, we now began
to rove about, here and there, in search of him; but there was no
inducement to tarry long, as, by the breaking up of a great number of
encampments of the Tawárek, an innumerable host of small flies had been
left in this district without occupation and sustenance, and thus left
destitute of their usual food greedily attacked ourselves. Leaving then
behind us the low downs, which were thickly covered with dúm-bush, the
resort of a numerous host of guinea fowl, we entered again low swampy
ground, and at length, after having traversed a thickly wooded district,
ascertained the spot whither the Sheikh had betaken himself, which was
at a place called Ákale, the eminence on the bank of the river being
called Ém-aláwen. But, when we at length reached it, we found the holy
man sleeping in the shade of a siwák, or _Capparis_, and the noise of
our horses, as we came galloping along, was not sufficient to awaken him
from his deep slumber. Such was the mild and inoffensive character of
this man, in the midst of these warlike and lawless hordes.
Waiting till my protector should rise from his peaceful slumber, I sat
down in the shade of a rich siwák, enjoying the faint prospect of my
journey home, now opening before me.
At length my friend awoke, and I went to him. He received me with a
gentle smile, telling me that he was now ready to conduct me on my
journey without any further delay or obstruction, and handing me at the
same time a parcel of letters and papers. There were copies of two
letters from Lord John Russell, of the 19th February 1853; one from Lord
Clarendon, of the 24th of the same month; a letter from Chevalier
Bunsen; another from Colonel Hermann; and two from Her Majesty’s agent
in Fezzán. There were no other letters, either from home or from any of
my friends; but there were, besides, ten Galignanis, and a number of the
Athenæum, of the 19th March 1853.
I can scarcely describe the intense delight I felt at hearing again from
Europe, but still more satisfactory to me was the general letter of Lord
John Russell, which expressed the warmest interest in my proceedings.
The other letters chiefly concerned the sending out of Dr. Vogel and his
companions, which opened to me the prospect of finding some European
society in Bórnu, if I should succeed in reaching my African head-
quarters in safety. But of the expedition to the Tsadda or Bénuwé, which
had started for its destination some time previously to the date of my
receiving these letters, I obtained no intimation by this opportunity;
and, indeed, did not obtain the slightest hint of that undertaking, of
which I myself was to form a part, till December, when it had already
returned to England.
I thanked the Sheikh for having at length put me in possession of these
despatches, but I repeated at the same time my previous remark, that if
he and his friends wanted to have “imána,” or well established peaceable
intercourse with us, security ought first of all to prevail as to our
letters, and I was assured that this parcel had been lying in Ázawád for
at least two months. But the Sheikh excused himself, stating that one of
the chief men in that district, probably the chief of the Bérabísh, had
kept them back under the impression that they might contain something
prejudicial to his country; an opinion which, of course, could not fail
to be confirmed by the proceedings of the French in the south-western
districts bordering upon Algeria. But, altogether, the history of this
parcel was marvellous. It had evidently come by way of Bórnu; yet there
was not a single line from the vizier, who, if all had been right, I
felt sure would have written to me; moreover, the outer cover had been
taken off, although the seal of the inner parcel had not been injured.
But the reason, of which I, however, did not become aware till a much
later period, was this, that, before the parcel left Sókoto, the news of
the execution of the vizier had already reached that place, when the
letter addressed by that person to myself was taken away, and probably
also something else which he had sent for me. But, it moreover happened
that the man who was commissioned to convey the parcel to Timbúktu was
slain by the Góberáwa, or Mariadáwa, on the road between Gando and Say,
at a moment when the packet was by accident left in the hands of a
companion of his, who, pursuing his route in safety, took it to Ázawád.
But the death of the principal bearer of the letters addressed to me, in
all probability, contributed not a little to confirm the rumour of
myself having been slain near Marádi. However, at that time, and even
much later, I had no idea that such rumours were current in the quarter
which I had left.
[Sidenote: Thursday, May 18th.]
It was with a very pleasant feeling that I at length found myself in the
company of my noble host, again pursuing my journey eastward; and I
enjoyed the peculiar features of the country with tolerable ease and
comfort. The varied composition of our troop, among whom there were
several well disposed friends, afforded also much relief.
The country was the same that I had already traversed; but it presented
some new features, as we followed another path. I was principally struck
with the enormous size of the “retem,” or broom, which here assumed the
proportions of considerable trees of more than twenty feet in height,
while the siwák, or _Capparis sodata_, was in great abundance.
Having rested, after a march of about ten miles, in a dense part of the
forest, which is said to be frequented by lions, we pursued our march in
the afternoon; when, proceeding along the swampy creek of Barkánge,
which was now almost dried up, and passing Tautilt, we pitched our tents
a little beyond the former ámazágh of the chief Wóghda, near a camp of
the Welád-Molúk. The branch of the river at this spot was at present so
shallow, that a flock of sheep was seen fording it towards the island;
waterfowl, also, and especially such birds as live upon fish, were in
immense numbers. Crocodiles were seen in abundance, and caused us some
anxiety for the horses, which were pasturing on the fine rank grass at
the border of the river.
The Tawárek having now left the banks of the river, the black natives
seemed to be more at their ease, and several boats belonging to the
Songhay crossed over to us from the island of Kóra. I had seen the male
portion of the Arab tribe of the Welád-Molúk on a former occasion, but I
here, for the first time, saw their wives and daughters, who, attracted
by curiosity, came in the evening to catch a glimpse of the Christian
stranger, and were roving about my tent, but I did not observe a single
attractive person among them, and, feeling rather sleepy, paid but
little attention to them.
[Sidenote: Friday, May 19th.]
While the other members of our troop kept more inland, I followed the
bank of the river, which here, with its fine open sheet of water,
presents a highly interesting aspect, till I reached our old camping-
ground at Izéberen, from whence I had some difficulty in rejoining my
friends, for the whole of this part of the river is full of backwaters
and creeks, which renders the communication rather difficult to people
who are not well acquainted with the character of the country, but on
this very account they afford rich pasture-grounds after the river has
begun to decrease. Unfortunately, even now, when we had finally entered
upon our journey, the dilatory character of my host remained unaltered,
and, after a march of seven miles, we halted near a small encampment of
the Kél-n-nokúnder, professedly as if we were to start again in the
afternoon, but in reality in order to pass the night there. However, I
was glad that we had at least gone beyond the place which we had reached
on our former abortive start.
The locality was adorned with some luxuriant specimens of duwé, and the
tagelálet, or agáto. Under one of these fine trees, the dense foliage of
which almost reached the ground, I passed the heat of the day in
friendly conversation with some of the peaceable Tolba, who came to have
a chat with me on religious topics. When the cool of the evening set in,
I pitched my tent near the bank of the open branch of the river, which
was girt by a fine border of rank grass; but the river was here broken,
and did not present that noble character which I was wont to admire in
it.
[Sidenote: Saturday, May 20th.]
We were to start at a very early hour, but the difficulty of making out
the right path among these numerous swamps and creeks, kept us back till
all our companions were ready. We then had to turn round a very
difficult swamp, which had now begun to dry up, and where we observed
the first traces of the wild hog that I had hitherto seen along this
part of the Niger. After we had left this swamp behind us, the river
exhibited its truly magnificent character, and we proceeded close along
the border of its limpid waters, on a beautiful sandy beach, our left
being shut in by high sandy downs, richly clad with dúm-palms and
tagelálet.
It was here, for the first time, that I observed the traces of the
zangway. This animal appears to be quite distinct from the crocodile,
and perhaps resembles the American igwana. It is much smaller than the
crocodile; and its footprint indicated a much broader foot, the toes
being apparently connected by a continuous membrane. Unfortunately I
never obtained a sight of the animal itself, but only observed its
footprints in the sand: it attains, as it seems, only to the length of
from six to eight feet.
The well-defined character of the river, however, did not last long, and
again there succeeded the low swampy shore, which occasionally obliged
us to keep at a greater distance from the main trunk, while the
vegetation in general was abundant. The predominant tree in this
district, also, was the siwák, or _Capparis_, which, with its small
berries, which were just ripening, afforded us occasionally a slight
refreshment. They can, however, only be taken in small quantities, as
they have a very strong taste, like pepper, and on this account are much
pleasanter when they are dried, in which state they afford a not
inconsiderable portion of the food of the nomadic inhabitants of these
regions. Besides the siwák, or “tésak,” there was also a great quantity
of “retem,” which is here called atárkit or ásabay; further on, dúm-
palms became very prevalent.
Leaving, then, the locality called Tahónt on our left, we reached a very
large grassy creek, which was enlivened by herds of cattle, and encamped
on its border, in the shade of a dense belt of fine trees, woven
together by an immense number of climbing plants. The whole bottom of
the valley was at least seven hundred yards wide, and behind a smaller
strip of water a larger open branch was observed, intersecting the rich
grassy valley. It is very remarkable, that neither the Imóshagh, or
Tawárek, nor the Arabs, have, as far as I am aware, a name sufficiently
expressive for these shallow vales; the Arabs in general calling an open
creek of water “rejl” or “krá,” and a less open one “bot-há;” while the
Tawárek call them in general an arm, properly a leg, of the river, or
“ádar-n-eghírrëu;” but the native Háusa name “fáddama” is far more
significant. It was on this account that Caillié called the whole of
these shallow creeks by the corrupted Jolof name, “marigot.”
Close behind our encampment the ground formed a slight slope, and
presented the site or tazámbut of a former Songhay place called Hendi-
kíri, a place which is perhaps identical with Kambakíri, mentioned in
the history of Songhay as the spot where a dreadful battle was fought
between two rival pretenders.[28] It is difficult to imagine the
different aspect which this country must have presented in former times,
when all the favourable sites formed the seats of flourishing dwelling-
places, and animated intercourse was thronging along the track on the
side of the river. It was a fine halting-place, characteristic of the
whole nature of this region; but the ants were very numerous, and
disturbed us greatly during our short halt.
After resting for about four hours, we pursued our march eastward,
keeping for the first mile close along the bot-há, which soon changed
its character to a considerable open sheet of water. Leaving then this
water, and crossing several smaller grassy creeks, and traversing a low
sandy ridge, we reached another large backwater; and winding along it in
a south-easterly direction, through bushes and dúm-palms, we reached,
after a march of about six miles, an interesting sandy headland called
Ém-n-kúris, situated at the point where the creek joins the river, which
here forms a fine sweep, changing its course from a west-easterly to a
south-northerly direction.
On this open sandy promontory we chose the spot for our night’s
quarters, opposite an encampment of the Kél-antsár which was situated on
the other side of the creek, and enlivened by dúm-palms. The river
itself formed a fine open sheet, broken only by a small island, and,
being animated by several boats, exhibited a grand spectacle. There was
a good deal of consultation in the evening between the eldermen, or
ámaghár, of the Kél-antsár and my protector, with regard to the course
to be pursued under the present political circumstances of the country,
these poor people scarcely knowing which party to follow amidst the
general confusion which prevailed. I learned on this occasion that the
Ígelád, to whom the tribe of the Kél-antsár belongs, have three learned
chiefs or judges, the most respected of whom, El Táher, lives at Rás el
má. The night which we passed here on a rising ground just over the
stream was beautifully fresh, while the elevation caused us to be exempt
from the plague usual in these swampy lowlands.
[Sidenote: Sunday, May 21st.]
While we were breaking up our encampment and loading our animals, the
opposite camp of our friends was enlivened by numerous herds of sheep
and goats, and we should have made a very interesting day’s march, as we
were now approaching a better-inhabited district, if it had not been for
the hospitable treatment of our hosts, who, in order to satisfy their
numerous visitors, had probably, the preceding night, mixed together all
sorts of milk, so that almost all the people were seriously ill; and the
first part of our march presented so distressing a spectacle that most
of my companions thought the milk had been poisoned.
Thus we passed a remarkable locality on a rising sandy bank behind a
considerable creek, which, by its name Tamizgída, evidently indicates
the site of a former dwelling-place, and is probably identical with the
Tírka (or rather Tírekka) of Arab geographers[29], if that identity does
not apply to Ghérgo. Having passed this place, we followed the shallow
water, which gradually widened, being intersected by fences and dykes
for the purpose of cultivating rice and catching fish. Larger trees
became gradually more scanty, indicating our approach to a still
existing dwelling-place, as is generally the case in Negroland, the
trees being consumed for firewood; but just as we came in sight of this
place, which is Ghérgo (pronounced Rérgo), in order to avoid the heat
during the midday hours, on an almost unprotected shore, we thought it
better to halt in the shade of the last trees. I myself found shelter
under the densely woven foliage of a fine group formed by the union of a
géza with an aghelál, where I had nothing better to do than to treat all
my people with tea and coffee, in order to restore their wasted spirits
and strength, as they had suffered greatly from their last night’s diet.
Our road from this point to the town led along the border of the swampy
lowlands, following a great many windings round the indented shore of
the creek. Thus we reached, after a march of a little more than two
miles, the bank opposite the village of Ghérgo, and began looking about
for some time for a fit place to encamp, for the village itself,
situated as it is behind a large backwater, could not be reached. The
opposite shore is extremely bleak and unbroken, being destitute even of
bush, while only three isolated trees dotted the ground for a great
distance, and these were unfortunately too far off from the ford, where
we chose our camping-ground, to be of any use to us during our stay.
Ghérgo is a place not without interest, and seems to be of considerable
antiquity. According to tradition, it is stated to be seven years older
than Túmbutu, or Timbúktu, and seems therefore well deserving of a right
to be identified with one of the celebrated centres of life in these
regions in the first dawn of historical record. It was originally
situated on the main, occupying an eminence a little to the east of our
encampment, till, in more recent times, the weakened and unprotected
inhabitants were obliged to retire behind the backwater from fear of the
Tawárek. Certainly, the insular nature of their dwelling-place is of a
rather indistinct character; for in general, with the exception of those
years when the inundations of the river reach an extraordinary height,
as had been the case this year, the smaller branch dries up to such an
extent, that a person may enter the place without wetting his feet; but
this happens at a season when their tormentors the Tawárek leave the
banks of the river and retire inland, so that they suffer but little
from them. This year the high state of the inundation had inspired them
with so much confidence, that they had refused their boats to the tábu,
or the army of their great liege lord himself. The river had risen to
such an elevation, that it had reached their very huts, which, separated
into three distinct groups, are situated on a slightly rising ground.
The inhabitants, even in the present reduced state of the country, raise
a good deal of rice and tobacco, though the cultivation ought to be much
more extensive, if we consider the wide expanse of the low swampy ground
which is reached by the inundation. The river, indeed, is at such a
distance, that it is not seen at all, being hidden behind the sandy
downs which form its inner bank. But it is remarkable that the
nutritious grass, the býrgu, which I have so repeatedly mentioned, was
almost wanting here, and the cattle of the village were obliged to be
driven to a great distance, so that, notwithstanding the richness of the
pasture-grounds in general, I was in want of milk.
We remained here the following day, and after a very cold morning, which
seemed rather remarkable in the month of May, I took a walk up the
gradually rising downs, which partly consisted of sand and gravel,
partly exhibited a more stony character, and, contrasted with the wide
green valley of the river, presented a bleak desert scenery with
undulating ground towards the north, clad with nothing but isolated
tufts of dry herbage. From the higher ground I had an interesting view
over the whole village, situated in the midst of swampy creeks and
bordered on each side by a solitary tree. I counted from this point
about 350 huts.
On returning from my walk to our encampment, I found a great number of
the inhabitants of the place assembled, and, after they had paid their
compliments to the Sheikh, anxiously looking out for the stranger in
order to obtain his blessing also. But I did not find them sufficiently
interesting to have much intercourse with them, for they have very
little of that noble independent carriage which distinguishes, in such
an eminent degree, their south-eastern countrymen; and their stature, as
well as their features, seemed to indicate plainly a very strong
intermixture with Mósi slaves. It is not improbable, that the whole
indigenous population of this northern bank of the Niger originally
belonged to the race of the Tombo. Most of these people wore closely
fitting white shirts and trowsers, both made of a broad kind of cotton
strip, or tári, of very coarse texture, while their head is generally
encircled with a very rugged and poor turban, if we may so call it, of
the same material; only a few of them being dressed in a more decent
style. They had a good deal of butter, but dared not sell it, through
fear of the Tawárek. I was not a little surprised at the large species
of geese which they were breeding.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, May 23rd.]
We started in the cool of the morning, keeping close to the border of
the swampy creek, which gradually becomes narrower, while the principal
trunk of the river approaches. After a march of about a mile and a half,
we receded a little into the desert, which exhibited an immense number
of footprints of the giraffe, generally three or four together. Here the
vegetation was rather scanty, the ground in general being covered with
nothing but low bushes; but, after we had approached a small ridge of
sandy downs, we crossed a hollow, which, being the dried up ground of a
pond, or dhaye, was surrounded with dúm-bush and tobacco-grounds.
We had been joined some time previously by a chief of the Kél-antsár,
who invited us to spend the hot hours of the day with him. We therefore
halted at an early hour by the side of his encampment, which was
situated on a promontory close beyond the rich vale whence the district
was called “eráshar;” Kírtebe and Tárashít we had left on one side. The
people slaughtered a whole ox, and sent us a great many dishes of rice
and sour milk. The whole tribe of the Kél-antsár is rather numerous,
numbering upwards of 1000 full-grown men, but they are scattered over a
wide extent of country, reaching from Gógó to Rás el má, and even into
the interior of Tagánet, the district between Timbúktu and Ázawád. We
had intended to pitch our tent here, but we found the ground so
extremely dry and hard that it would not hold the pegs.
Soon after starting in the afternoon, on descending from the eminence we
had a fine view of the river, two branches of which united behind an
island. But the scenery soon changed, and, leaving the river at some
distance, proceeding first over sandy ground, and then crossing a large
backwater which was at present tolerably dry, and following a large herd
of cattle that were returning from their pasture grounds, we reached
another considerable ámazágh of the Kél-antsár, and encamped between
them and the green swampy shore of the river. The place is called Zár-
ho; but in the river lies the island of Kúrkozáy, which has obtained a
kind of celebrity on account of a sanguinary battle which was fought
there thirty-five years previous to the time of my visit, between the
Tawárek on the one side, and the Songhay and Ermá or Rumá on the other.
The people here seemed to be very rich in cattle, and supplied us with
an enormous quantity of fresh milk.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, May 24th.]
While we were loading our camels, the sky was overcast with thick
clouds, and heavy rain evidently fell in Áribínda, while with us the
strong wind prevented the clouds from discharging their contents. I have
repeatedly remarked upon the quantity of rain that falls on the southern
side of the river compared with the northern. Dry as the country here
appeared to be, we this day became more than ever entangled among the
numerous backwaters which make the passage along the river so difficult,
although they afford the richest pasturage to the cattle. The fault was
that of our guide, who directed our course too far south from east,
till, on becoming aware of our error, we had to cross two very
considerable grassy creeks, the first having three and a half feet of
water, and the last being still deeper. The tall rank grass of the býrgu
entangled the feet of the horses, and caused them to fall, to the great
discomfiture of their riders.
Having at length succeeded in crossing this double creek, we had still
to traverse another grassy inlet, joining it from the north side, after
which, all these swampy low lands uniting together, formed a very
extensive fáddama, at the broadest part about two or three miles wide,
the whole surface of the water being covered with water-lilies (_Nymphæa
Lotus_). Beyond this extensive backwater, on a grassy island of the
river, lies the hamlet Tabálit, and at a short distance from it another
ádabay, of the name of Ábaten. Here the extensive backwaters after a
little while cease, and allow the river itself to approach the sandy
downs, which in this spot rise to a considerable height. They thus
afforded myself and the Sheikh’s nephew a fine view over the river,
which here forms a “large island,” designated by this very name, “autel-
makkóren,” or “imakkóren;” it often forms the camping-ground for Tawárek
tribes. The sandy downs, however, soon gave way to swampy backwaters,
the indented outline of which gave to our march a very indistinct
direction, and formed a remarkable contrast to the dreary rising-ground
on our left. The difficulties, however, after a while became more
serious than ever, for we suddenly found ourselves on a narrow dyke,
destined to keep back the water for the cultivation of rice, situated in
the midst of a swamp. For the people of Timbúktu, who were brought up in
the swampy grounds, were not aware of any difficulty until we approached
the opposite shore, when we found that the dyke was intersected by a
narrow channel, over which it was dangerous to leap our horses; and
although my own horse accomplished the feat with success, many of the
others refused to do so, so that most of the people preferred making
their way through the swamp. As for myself, it was highly interesting to
me, thus to become aware of all the various features of this whole
formation, although for the sake of comfort we ought to have kept
further inland.
When we at length left this swampy ground behind us, everything bore
testimony to the fact, that we were approaching another little centre of
life in this neglected tract, which, from a certain degree of
civilisation, has almost relapsed into a state of total barbarism. Dykes
made for the cultivation of rice, and places where the býrgu, the rank
grass of the river, was passed through a slight fire in order to obtain
honey from the stalks thus deprived of the small leaves, were succeeded
by small fields of tobacco and wheat. Nay, even barley was seen, an
almost unheard of article in the whole of these regions. Meanwhile, the
deep channels made for irrigating these grounds showed a degree of
industry which I had not seen for a long time. At present, of course,
they were dry, the stubble of the wheat and barley alone remaining in
the fields, irrigation being employed only during the highest state of
the river, when the water closely approaches these grounds.
Here, where an open branch of the river was seen dividing into two
smaller arms, we obtained a view of the town of Bamba, or rather of its
date-palms, which waved their feathery foliage over a sandy promontory.
However, the sky was by no means clear. Soon we reached this spot, and I
was highly delighted at seeing again some fine specimens of the date-
palm, having scarcely beheld a single one since leaving Kanó. The trees
on the western side of the village are formed into groups, and in their
neglected state, with the old dry leaves hanging down from under the
fresh ones, formed a very picturesque spectacle. On the east side, also,
where we were encamped, close to a magnificent tamarind, were two tall
slender specimens of this majestic tree; but altogether there were
scarcely more than forty full-grown date-palms. They are said to furnish
a good kind of fruit, but, not having tasted them myself, I cannot give
an opinion as to their quality.
The village, at present, consists of about two hundred huts, built of
mattings, and oval-shaped; for, besides a small mosque, there are only
two or three clay buildings, or rather magazines, one of which belongs
to Bábá Áhmed, a younger brother of the Sheikh El Bakáy, who generally
resides here; at present, however, he was absent.
Such is the condition of this place at present; but there cannot be any
doubt that it was of much more importance three centuries ago, as it is
repeatedly mentioned in the history of Songhay; and its situation—at a
point where the river, from having been spread at least during a great
part of the year over a surface of several miles, is shut in by steep
banks and compressed at the narrowest point to from 600 to 700
yards—must have been of the highest importance, at a time when the whole
of the region along this large navigable river was comprised under the
rule of a mighty kingdom of great extent, and even afterwards, when it
had become a province of Morocco.
This was evidently the reason why the place was fortified at that time,
and probably it had formerly a strong fortress, constantly occupied by a
garrison, which accounts for the Tawárek, even at the present day,
calling the whole place by the name of Kásba. It also serves to explain
the fact, that the whole population of the village, even at the present
time, consists of Rumá, the progeny of the musketeers who conquered this
province for the Emperor of Morocco. But, while in former times they
were the ruling race, at present they drag on a rather miserable
existence, the protection of the Kunta being scarcely sufficient to
defend them against the daily contributions levied upon them by the
overbearing rulers of the desert. A short time previously the chief
Sadáktu had driven away almost all their cattle.
While awaiting the camels, I sat down on a cliff overhanging the steep
bank, which here was about twenty-five feet in height, and enjoyed the
splendid view over that great watery highroad of West-Central Africa.
The waves of the river were raised by a strong wind, and offered
considerable resistance to some light boats endeavouring to reach the
opposite shore. My companions soon observed the interest which I took in
the scene, and my amiable friend, the Sheikh’s nephew, joined me here to
enjoy the pleasant prospect. He was glad to find that, since we were
fairly proceeding on our journey, my mind had become far easier and more
cheerful. He often spoke with me about my happy return to my native
country; and I expressed to him the wish that he might accompany me, and
witness for himself some of the achievements of Europeans. He had been
to this place several times before, and had always taken great interest
in the difference in the nature of the river, which, from spreading out
over flat swampy shores with numerous backwaters, with a few exceptions,
here becomes compressed between high banks; and he again repeated to me
his account of the great narrowing of the river at Tósaye, where a stone
might easily be thrown from one bank to the other, while at the same
time the river was so deep, that a line made from the narrow strips of a
whole bullock’s skin was not sufficient to reach the bottom.
While thus cheerfully enjoying the interesting scenery, we were joined
by several Rumá inhabitants of the village, who rather disturbed our
silent contemplation. But their own character was not wholly
uninteresting; for several of them were distinguished from the common
Songhay people by the glossy lustre and the lighter hue of their skin;
their features also were more regular, and their eyes more expressive.
All of them wore, as an outward token of their descent, a red bandage
about two inches wide over the shawl which covered the upper part of
their face, and a leathern belt hanging loose over the right shoulder,
ready to be fastened round the waist at the first signal of danger.
Several of them were also distinguished by their better style of dress,
which betokened a greater degree of cleanliness and comfort. As for
smoking, all the inhabitants along the shores of this great river seemed
to be equally fond of it. The pipe is scarcely ever out of their mouth.
While smoking, they keep their mouth covered, after the fashion which
they have learnt from the Tawárek. The head of the pipe sticks out from
below the shawl.
At length the camels arrived. They had been called back by mistake from
the upper road which they were pursuing, into the difficult swampy
ground which we ourselves had traversed. A large comfortable dwelling of
matting, or “búge,” as it is called, was erected on the sandhills, for
the Sheikh and his companions; but I had my tent pitched near the fine
group of date palms, and from this point I made the subjoined sketch,
which will impart to the reader a tolerably correct idea of the place.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.