THE DESERT. — COUNTRY ALONG THE BORDER OF THE RIVER. — GREATEST
NARROWING. — SOUTH-EASTERLY BEND.
A slight fall of rain, and then a thunder-storm, which, however, passed
over our heads without discharging itself, delayed our departure in the
afternoon; and the camels having been sent to a great distance for a
little pasture, it was past five o’clock when we left our camping-
ground. A numerous crowd of Rumá, Songhay, and Ímóshagh having assembled
to witness my departure, I distributed a good many small presents among
them, reserving the few articles of value which I still possessed for
mightier chiefs.
Having crossed, after a march of two miles, a backwater much overgrown
with grass, and at present almost dry, we had the fáddama or bot-há of
the river close on our right, while the open water was at about an
hour’s march distance. Here a considerable amount of cultivation was
seen, a good many grounds for corn and tobacco being laid out and
connected with the river by channels, through which the water during the
highest state of the inundation approached closely, and rendered
irrigation very easy; but unfortunately a heavy thunder-storm, rising in
a tremendous battery of clouds, and enveloping the whole country in a
dense mass of sand, did not allow of any exact observations being made.
The many channels which here intersected our road, proved a disagreeable
hindrance in our hurried march, and although the clouds passed by
without bringing any rain, yet darkness set in before we had reached our
destination, and to my great disappointment prevented my noticing the
whole character of the district.
But the inconvenience soon increased when we entered upon the swampy,
grassy border of the river; for although a small fire, on the dry shore
to our left, held out to my companions, who were travelling almost
without supplies, the prospect of a rather poor supper, a long line of
fires in the midst of the river promised them better fare. Without
regarding, therefore, the difficulties of the ground and the darkness of
the night, we made straight for them. My friends were not even deterred,
when we reached a narrow dyke scarcely fit for one horse, and in great
decay, and which the guide declared to be the only path leading through
a sheet of water separating us from the encampment. Thus, we boldly
entered upon this dyke, but we had only proceeded a few hundred yards,
when it was pronounced, even by these people, so well accustomed to an
amphibious life, to be totally impracticable, so that we were obliged to
retrace our steps. While engaged in this most dangerous proceeding, my
servant, the Gatróni, met with a serious accident, falling, with his
horse, down the dyke into the water; and although, with his native
agility, he succeeded in extricating himself, with a few contusions,
from his unpleasant situation, we had great difficulty in getting the
horse out from the hollow into which it had fallen, my companions
asserting that it was dead, and wanting to leave it behind. At length we
got away from the dyke, and finding a ford through the water, we reached
the encampment, which was pitched on a narrow neck of grassy land, and
completely dazzled us with the glare of its many fires, coming, as we
did, out of the darkness. From the opposite side of the river, two
hamlets of Songhay, called Inzámmen and Takankámte, were visible
likewise by their fires.
The encampment belonged to some Kél e’ Súk, who manifested a rather
thievish disposition; and, although not altogether inhospitable, they
were unable to treat my companions well, as in the swampy lowland there
was an entire want of firewood. It was one of those encampments which
contributed in a great measure to ruin my health, partly in consequence
of the heavy dew which fell during the night. Meanwhile my servant, who
was a most faithful person, was searching the greater part of the night
for his pistols, which in his fall he had lost in the swamp.
[Sidenote: Friday, May 26th.]
While my companions still lagged behind in order to indemnify themselves
for their lost supper by a good breakfast, I set off at a tolerably
early hour, in order to get out of the swampy ground; and fearing lest
we might again be entangled in these interminable low grounds, we kept
at a considerable distance from the river over the gentle sandy downs,
bare at first, but afterwards clad with a considerable quantity of dry
grass. But some of our companions, who overtook us, would not allow us
to pursue our north-easterly direction, and led us back again to the
border of a broad swampy sheet of water, which is called Terárart, and
at this spot formed a shallow water full of water-plants and geese, but
gradually widening to a very extensive swamp, which again increased to a
large open branch. The river, however, which was now almost at its
lowest level, must present a very different aspect during the highest
state of the inundation, when the downs of snow-white sand, which at
present separated the principal trunk from the swamp, must appear like a
narrow sandbank in the midst of the water.
Behind these downs, but separated from the main branch by a smaller
creek, called “the false river,” Eghírrëu-n-báho, lies the hamlet
Égedesh, which at the present season was deserted, the inhabitants being
scattered over the islands in the river. The three villages Garbáme, Ém-
n-Tabórak, and Nshérifen, are situated on its opposite southern bank.
Exchanging at this remarkable spot our east north-easterly direction for
an east south-easterly one, we encamped after a march of three miles and
a half, in the shade of a dense belt of underwood which girded its
shores, and after a short time, we were here joined by El Bakáy. A
little more than a mile beyond this place, at the downs called Ghadír,
this large backwater joins the river, and here, when we pursued our
march in the afternoon, we ascended for a while a higher level,
consisting of sandstone rock in a state of great decomposition; but
after a march of three miles, again descended to its shores, the river
being here full of green islands, with plenty of fine cattle. Two miles
further on, we encamped in a place called Tewílaten, or Stewílaten, at
the side of a rather poor encampment of the Kél-Tebankórit.
Notwithstanding their poor condition, the people slaughtered two oxen on
our behalf.
I had this day still further cause to feel satisfied that we were
travelling along the north, and not along the south side of the river,
for while we ourselves had but a slight shower, besides summer lightning
the whole of the evening, in the course of the afternoon a considerable
fall of rain took place beyond the river in Áribínda.
Before we started I began conversing with the people of the encampment
(the chief of whom, a man of renowned valour, is called Hammaláti) in a
cheerful manner. Whereupon they praised me as an excellent man, but made
at the same time the candid avowal that the preceding night, when I did
not speak a word, they felt a great antipathy towards me.
Having proceeded at a tolerable rate as far as this place, we here once
more relapsed into our usual slow mode of progress; and after a short
march of scarcely three miles over a ground strewn with pebbles and
small stones, and clad only with scanty vegetation, we encamped close to
the steep bank which descended towards the river opposite the island of
Zamgoy, for here we were told was the residence of Sadáktu, the chief
who had levied such heavy contributions upon the inhabitants of Bamba.
As the country itself did not present any features of interest, it was
some recompense to me for the delay we met with in this place, that the
character of the river was remarkable; and in order to enjoy it as much
as possible, I prepared myself a resting place on the slope of the bank,
which was thickly overgrown with small trees.
It is here that the beginning of the rocky district through which the
river takes its course is first perceptible. The western end of a small
island is entirely surrounded by large granite blocks, which have given
to the island the remarkable name of Tahónt-n-éggish, clearly indicating
that even the natives themselves regard this place, for him who comes
down the river, as the “entrance-rock,” or the beginning of the rocky
district.
The island of Zamgoy lies nearer to the southern shore, and seems to be
of considerable extent, densely clothed with trees, and containing a
small hamlet, or ádabay. Besides the view of the river, and a walk now
and then over the desert ground in our neighbourhood, where I observed
the ruins of some stone dwellings, I had plenty of occupation during
this and the three following days which we remained here, in conversing
with the natives.
Sadáktu himself was very unwell, and greatly wanted my medical
assistance; but after I had made him feel the efficacy of my medicines
so strongly that he declared every evil to be removed from his body, he
did not reward my zeal with so much as a drop of milk. I therefore could
not help observing, to the great delight of his subjects, that he was
the most niggardly chief I had ever met with. There were, however,
others who were more social and communicative, if not more liberal, than
this chief. There was, first, a wealthy and good-looking man of the name
of Jemíl, of the Kél-Burrum or the people of Burrum, who evidently
originate in a mixture of free Songhay people and Ímóshagh, and he
himself, seemed to unite in a certain degree, the qualities of these
different nations, while his rich dress and his _embonpoint_ proved that
he was not an austere inhabitant of the desert. A great deal of trouble
was caused me by another man of the name of Simsim, the son of Sídi
Ámmer, and the eldest of seven brothers, a very rich Ámóshagh, who was
totally blind, but who, nevertheless, expected me to restore his sight;
and it really seemed as if my friend El Bakáy confirmed him in this
belief, in order to obtain from him some handsome presents for himself.
This person also had the stately appearance peculiar to all these
easterly Tawárek, who seem to have enriched themselves with the spoil of
the native Songhay population, the latter having in a great measure been
reduced by them to the condition of serfs. Almost all of them had a very
proud bearing, but nevertheless, upon nearer acquaintance, they proved
to be of a very cheerful disposition; and although of a wild character
and of warlike propensities, they have an easy temper, and are not
difficult to manage.
The poor inhabitants of Bamba, from whom Sadáktu had taken seventy cows
and ten slaves, joined us here, in the endeavour to recover their
property. They earnestly begged me to be the mediator between them and
that hostile chief; and I was very glad when, after a good deal of
dispute, the chief returned half of the spoil. It was here also that I
learnt that the whole population of Áír, under the command of Háj
ʿAbdúwa, had gained a great victory over the Dínnik, or Awelímmiden-wén-
Bodhál, and the Aréwan, or Kél-gerés. The tribe of the Kél-fadáye enjoy
a great name in this region; and it is evident that, in former times,
they occupied a much more conspicuous position than they do at present.
Even El Bakáy himself had taken a wife from that tribe; and I was also
informed here that they lay claim to a descent from sherífs.
We had a storm almost every day during our stay in this place; but
although we ourselves had very little else than a disagreeable sand-
wind, there seemed to be a very heavy fall of rain in Áribínda. In one
of these thunderstorms we nearly lost our camels, which, headed by one
of their companions that had lately come from Ázawád, were making
straight for that district, their beloved home, and had proceeded a
distance of some miles, before they were overtaken.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, May 31st.]
At length we pursued our journey, but only for a short march of two
hours; and I was so disgusted at the repeated delays and sham
travelling, that I prayed earnestly that the Almighty would speedily
deliver me from this sort of bondage. Throughout our march, the bare
desert, here consisting of stony ground, torn by many small channels,
closely crept up to the fertile bed of the river, where a green swampy
lowland girded the present reduced sheet of water. Amongst the stones
with which the ground was covered, fine white and red striped rock was
discernible; and I observed another island, with a rocky point, towards
the west.
The ground where we encamped was bleak in the extreme, without any
shade, although a few hundred yards in front of us there was a fine
grove of gerredh; but as these trees adorned a cemetery, my companions,
from superstitious motives, were too much afraid to choose that place
for their encampment. Although our camping-ground was excessively hot, I
was agreeably surprised to find the water of the river so pleasantly
cool at a time when the sun was high, and could only attribute this
phenomenon to the rocky character of the channel and to its considerable
depth. Nevertheless, crocodiles, as well as river-horses, were numerous.
In this unprotected ground we remained not only this but the following
day, although the place was as uncomfortable for the people, who were
almost scorched by the heat of the sun, as it was detrimental to the
animals, who found nothing to eat here. The Sheikh had gone in the
morning to visit Sadáktu, in the island of Zamgoy, and from thence did
not join us until late in the evening. It was one of the hottest days we
had had; and it was here that, about noon, we discovered in my tent a
large, black, poisonous _arachnæa_, or spider, the body of which
measured almost two inches in diameter, and whose like my companions
from Timbúktu had never seen. The Tawárek were so disgusted at the
sight, that while I was looking attentively at it, after we had killed
it, they threw it hastily away with their swords, so that I did not see
it again; but they told me that it was the most dangerous and abominable
creature to be found in these regions.
The excessive heat rendered a thunderstorm which we had in the afternoon
of the second day highly acceptable, especially as the heavy gale was
followed by a light rain, which greatly relieved the burning heat of the
sandy soil. It was highly amusing to me to observe also, this time, that
although a large leathern tent had been pitched for the Sheikh,
nevertheless, as was always the case when a thunderstorm arose,
everybody hastened to carry his treasures, especially the saddles and
books, under cover of my small European tent, which had now withstood
more than four years’ exposure to the weather, and was mended and
patched in such a manner that the original material was scarcely
discernible.
[Sidenote: Friday, June 2nd.]
We at length left this place, but only to move on a distance of seven or
eight miles, to an encampment of a wealthy man of the name of Sídi
Ílemín, who, although belonging to the tribe of the Fúlbe, was living
amongst the Tawárek, and had been settled in the place for a great many
years. The contrast between the open river, bordered by the green grassy
lowlands, which at present had been laid bare by the retiring waters,
and the bleak desert which closely approached it, was very remarkable,
especially a short distance before we reached the encampment, where an
extensive sandy eminence excluded for a while the view of the river, and
with a few scattered bushes of the poisonous fernán, and the short
herbage called “ellob,” made one fancy oneself transported into the
heart of the desert.
Along the former part of our road the low shore of the river had been
clothed with a profusion of excellent býrgu, but here there was none,
and the poor camels again fared very badly. In the whole of this
district along the river, where trees are very scanty, the camel is
reduced to the diet of býrgu, although it by no means agrees with
animals accustomed to the food of the young acacia trees and the dry
herbage of the desert. All circumstances considered, my camels were in a
very bad condition, and there was good reason for my kind friend and
protector looking about for some fresh animals to enable me to reach
more favoured regions. He therefore determined to set out from this
point to the nearest of his “kissib,” or herds of camels, while we were
to wait for him at a place called Tin-sherífen.
The river, which, in its present state, was about 900 yards from our
camp, had here a very shallow, and not at all an imposing appearance,
although a few miles below it enters a very rocky district, where it is
enclosed by steep banks and broken by islets and cliffs. Four boats were
lying on the shore. The place was called Igómaren.
The encampment of Sídi Ílemín was large, consisting of very spacious
leathern tents, where Tawárek and Fúlbe, and some Arabs also, were
living together in peaceful community. Although they are tolerably
wealthy, they have only asses, and no horses. A good many Tawárek joined
us here the day of our arrival, and, while I rewarded the most
respectable amongst them with a small present of some kind or other, I
had some difficulty in satisfying a more powerful lord of the name of
Míki, the son of Elésa; and found it still more difficult to satisfy his
companion, or “énhad,” who, as is very often the case in Europe, raised
his pretensions much higher than his master.
The blind Simsim also accompanied us to this place, and troubled me not
a little with begging a remedy for his blindness. Among other chiefs,
there was one whose name seemed to me rather remarkable, as he called
himself El Ísfaháni; but what he or his ancestors had to do with the
famous town of Ísfahán, I could not make out. Sídi Ílemín treated us
well with a number of large dishes of rice, but the food being prepared
without any salt, I was not able to enjoy it, and was the more grateful
at being furnished in the evening with a rich supply of milk.
[Sidenote: Saturday, June 3rd.]
While my protector directed his steps towards the desert, I, with the
greater part of his followers, continued my journey along the banks of
the river, which had now almost become a second home to me, and with its
many backwaters, islands, and cliffs, afforded me a never failing source
of interest. About half a mile beyond our encampment we passed the site
of a former settlement or dwelling place, after which the sandy downs
receded a little from the bank, affording comfortable ground for a good
number of Tawárek encampments. Having then left on our right an
extensive swampy lowland, which, during the highest state of the river,
becomes inundated, we reached the beginning of the rocky district,
through which the river has to pass. After a very short march, we
encamped in a place called Himberímme, on account of the indisposition
of my friend Mohammed ben Khottár.
The slope where we halted was very handsomely adorned with fine shady
tabórak, and the river was here free from rocks, being divided into two
branches by a low sand bank, while a mile higher up a mighty ledge of
granite rocks projected into the water. But about 1000 yards below our
halting place, the river presented a very wild aspect, a considerable
rocky island, consisting of immense granite blocks, together with a
rocky ledge projecting from the high bank, shutting in half the breadth
of the river, and forcing it, with a direction from S. 30° E. to N. 30°
W., into a channel of probably not more than 350 yards broad. This
remarkable place, where the river, when it is full, must form a very
powerful current, is called Tin-álshiden.
The heat of the day having passed by, we continued our march, cutting
off the bend of the river over a ground which was at first bare and
destitute of vegetation, but after a while became overgrown with stunted
talha trees, a few siwák, and a great profusion of retem; till, after a
march of two miles, the river again approached on our right, being here
free from rocks and bordered by a grassy lowland richly clad with the
famous býrgu. On our left, a few tobacco plantations gave proof of a
certain degree of industry on the part of the natives, although on this
side only a nomadic encampment was to be seen, but on the opposite bank
a hamlet appeared. The whole of this district belongs to Tin-sherífen.
As the river takes here a very winding course, meandering along between
steep banks, we again left it at some distance on our right, ascending
from a low swampy inlet upon higher ground, where we passed another
Tawárek encampment, and then, as darkness was setting in, we again
descended to the green shore, where the river seemed to be obstructed by
islands. Parallel with the bank, a shallow grassy swamp stretched along,
and from beyond the southern bank, a little higher up, a village was
seen. On the largest of the islands, which was at the same time the
nearest to our side, was the residence of Kára, the father of a young
man named Sála, one of the pupils of El Bakáy. This was the reason why
my companions, notwithstanding the darkness of the evening, and although
the island was at present separated from the mainland by a deep channel,
entertained the absurd idea of crossing over to the latter. It was only
after much uncertainty, and a great deal of dispute, that we decided
upon encamping on the narrow neck between the swamp and the river.
In this place we remained the four following days, my protector not
returning until the third day, and my patience was again put to a severe
trial. But, altogether, the stay here was not so uninteresting, as we
received a great many visits from the inhabitants of this and the
neighbouring districts. First, there came Kára, the governor of the
island, a stately-looking old man, dressed in a fine white tobe, with a
white shawl round his head. Having entered into conversation with me, he
stated, without the subject being brought forward by myself, that about
fifty years ago, a Christian had come down the river in a large boat
with a white tent, and the river being then full, had passed without any
accident the rocky passage ahead of us. But he added that the Kél-
terárart had attacked him at Zamgoy. Park had passed this place in the
morning, while he (Kára) was encamped with his people on the sandy downs
of Áribínda. This chief himself, although he was not at all hospitable,
had really something in his demeanour which might indicate a descent
from a nobler stock, but the rest of the inhabitants of the island had
much the same appearance as the less noble tribes of the Tawárek in
general. However, there is no doubt that the name of the whole district,
Tin-sherífen, is taken from the supposed origin of these people—from
sherífs. And here in this district, as well as in the neighbouring one
of Burrum, where the great river, after having made this remarkable bend
into the heart of the desert, changes its easterly course into a south-
easterly one, we must evidently look for the earliest Mohammedan
settlers along the Niger.
I here also first came into more intimate relation with that remarkable
tribe the Kél e’ Súk, who seem to deserve a great deal of attention
among these nomadic tribes, although I am not yet able to elucidate all
the points connected with their history, for they themselves take very
little interest in historical facts, and if there exist written records
they are not generally known. But this much is certain, that these Kél
e’ Súk have been so called from a place, Súk, or at least generally
called Súk[30], situated at the distance of five days’ journey from this
point, and six from Gógó, which seems to have been a very considerable
place in former times, but was destroyed in the latter half of the
fifteenth century, by Sonni ʿAlí, the great predecessor of the still
greater conqueror Háj Mohammed Áskíá. The original name of this place I
did not succeed in making out, but it is no doubt that very place which,
by El Bekrí[31] and other Arab geographers, after the name of the tribe,
has been called Tademékket, and which, till the middle of the
seventeenth century, ruled over this region.
This large and well-built town appears to have been the centre of
various tribes, although I can scarcely conceive that my informants were
right, when they asserted that their ancestors had been living there,
together with the Hogár and the Kél-owí, as from this statement, if it
were true, we should have in this place a much more remarkable example
of a community founded by several Berber tribes together, than is
afforded by the history of Ágades. Be this as it may, the name of Súk
has settled upon this tribe, who still form quite a separate body, being
distinguished from the neighbouring tribes for their learning and
peaceable pursuits.
Besides several respectable men of this tribe, I received a visit also
from Nássaru, a daughter of one of their chiefs named Khozématen. She
was one of the finest women that I saw in this country. Her decent
apparel contributed not a little to increase her beauty, for over her
under-gown she wore an upper-garment of red and black silk, in alternate
stripes, which she occasionally drew over her head. Her features were
remarkable for their soft expression and regularity, but her person
rather inclined to corpulency, which is highly esteemed by the Tawárek.
Seeing that I took an interest in her, she, half-jokingly, proposed that
I should marry her; and I declared myself ready to take her with me if
one of my rather weak camels should be found able to support her weight.
As a mark of distinction I presented her with a looking-glass, which I
was always accustomed to give to the most handsome woman in an
encampment, the rest receiving nothing but needles. She returned the
next day with some of her relations, who were equally distinguished by
their comeliness, and who were anxious to obtain a glimpse of me, not
less than of the Sheikh El Bakáy. These noble Tawárek ladies furnished a
remarkable example of the extreme liberty which the females belonging to
this tribe enjoy; and I was greatly astonished to see the pipe pass
continually from their mouths to those of the men, and from the latter
back again into the mouths of the women. In other respects, I can only
hope that they surpass the female portion of the population of
Tademékka, of whose virtue El Bekrí speaks in rather doubtful terms.
Less agreeable than the company of these people was the arrival of the
blind Simsim, who, it seems, had been rather disappointed in his
expectation of having his sight restored, although my friend had
contrived to get from him a present of a camel and a female slave. We
were here also at length joined by Áhmed Wadáwi, the principal pupil of
the Sheikh, whom I scarcely expected to see again; but being fully aware
of the slow and deliberate character of his master, he felt convinced
that he could never come too late. Altogether I was glad that he had
arrived, for although apt to make great pretensions, and being inspired
with too great zeal for his creed, he was nevertheless a cheerful and
good-natured man, and, on account of his considerable learning and his
knowledge of the Tawárek chiefs, might be of great service to me after
having separated from the Sheikh. He had, besides, acquired some useful
experience with regard to the difference between the straightforward and
trustworthy character of a Christian, and the treachery and cunning of
an Arab; for having in the beginning constantly taken the part of my
former guide, Weled Ámmer Waláti, against myself, he had been cheated in
return for his friendship by that rascal, and in order to get from him
what was due to him, had been obliged to pursue him to Áribínda. He
brought the news from Timbúktu that the rebel chief Ákhbi, whom we had
been unable to persuade to return to his former allegiance, was
collecting an army against Alkúttabu.
The whole time of our stay at Tin-sherífen the weather was excessively
hot, the heat being felt the more severely, as there was not the
slightest shade near our encampment; and as my tent was almost
insupportably hot, in order to obtain a little shade, I wandered to a
considerable distance up the slope which rose behind our encampment, and
here lay down under a small hájilíj, or tabórak. From this spot I had an
interesting view over the river, which, on account of its peculiar
features, here deserved my full attention, and even more than I was able
at the time to bestow upon it, as, in the absence of my protector, my
companions were rather anxious about my safety. My young and cheerful
friend, Mohammed ben Khottár, was suffering all this time from severe
indisposition, so that I had no one to rove about with me. A little
lower down, the road recedes from the bank of the river for a short
distance; and hence I am not able to lay down the river, between this
place and Tósaye, with that minuteness of detail which it deserves, in
order to facilitate navigation. Under other circumstances, I should have
made a special drawing of this remarkable locality on a larger scale;
but the assertion of the natives, that Park in his large boat (His
Majesty’s schooner Joliba) had passed through in December or January
without accident, reassured me perfectly. Besides, as I myself had to
travel all along the bank of the river by land, I had to take care not
to excite too much the suspicions of the natives.
From this spot I had a clear prospect over the point where the river
issuing forth from between the islands is shut in by two masses of rock,
called, I think, Shabór[32] and Barrór, which obstructed it like a sort
of iron gate, although the passage between them, especially at high
water, appeared to be open and clear. In summer, however, during the
lowest state of the river, the difficulty of the navigation is greatly
increased by the sandbank which is formed a little above this strait
between the islands and the bank. On the island where the chief Kála
resided, also, a mass of rock, which at times in the sun light of the
afternoon appeared like a snow-white boulder of quartz rock, started
forth like an artificial terrace. Higher up, the river was encompassed
in its winding course by steep banks; but, in one spot on the opposite
shore, where the sandy downs formed a recess, a low grassy headland or
island was formed, which at the time was enlivened by numbers of horses,
cattle, and sheep, and was adorned by stately trees, especially a fine
group of dúm-palms; for dúm-palms apparently begin to prevail here, and
lower down the river are found occasionally in great numbers. The slope
itself, from whence I overlooked this scenery, consisted entirely of
rock. Quartz and micaslate were visible everywhere, and an uninterrupted
ledge of the latter mineral set right across with an inclination towards
east. The evenings were beautiful, and nothing afforded me greater
delight than to walk along the fine sandy beach far into the river.
During the lowest state of the water, this beach forms a junction
between the main land and the island where Kála resided.
Our attention was also attracted to some young zangway, the small
species of alligator, which every evening raised their cry from the
swamp where they were left by their dams. It sounds like the barking of
a dog, and it appeared to us as if they were bred purposely in this
backwater, in order that they might not fall a prey to some larger
animal in the river.
[Footnote 30: The reader need not be under the impression that the name
“súk” indicates Arabic influence, for the word is of the most extensive
Semitic range.]
[Footnote 31: El Bekrí, who is the only reliable authority, in the
edition of de Slane, p. 181, _et seq._ The distance of nine days from
Gógó, according to El Bekrí, is to be regarded as the rate for heavily
laden caravans, corresponding well to six days of light camels or
mehára. See the itinerary from Tawát to this place, in the Appendix. Of
the (erroneous) derivation of the name of the town, I have spoken on a
former occasion. See Vol. IV. p. 498.]
[Footnote 32: I am not quite certain whether Shabór may not be the name
of the island and not of the rock.]