[Sidenote: Tuesday, June 20th.]
As soon as I had made out that Gógó was the place which for several
centuries had been the capital of a strong and mighty empire in this
region, I felt a more ardent desire to visit it than I had to reach
Timbúktu. The latter, no doubt, had become celebrated throughout the
whole of Europe, on account of the commerce which centred in it;
nevertheless I was fully aware that Timbúktu had never been more than a
provincial town, although it exercised considerable influence upon the
neighbouring regions from its being the seat of Mohammedan learning. But
Gʿawó, or Gógó, had been the centre of a great national movement, from
whence powerful and successful princes, such as the great Mohammed el
Háj Áskia, spread their conquests from Kebbi, or rather Háusa, in the
east, as far as Fúta in the west; and from Tawát in the north, as far as
Wángara and Mósi towards the south.
Cheered at having reached this spot, I passed a tranquil night, and
rising early in the morning, lay down outside my tent, quietly enjoying
the prospect over this once busy locality, which, according to the
unanimous statements of former writers, was the most splendid city of
Negroland, though it is now the desolate abode of a small and miserable
population. Just opposite to my tent, towards the south, lay the ruined
massive tower, the last remains of the principal mosque, or jíngeré-bér,
of the capital, the sepulchre of the great conqueror Mohammed. All
around the wide open area where we were encamped, was woven a rich
corona of vegetation, among which, in the clear light of the morning, I
discovered different species of trees that I had long ago lost sight of;
such as date palms, tamarind trees, ngáboré or sycamores, and even the
silk-cotton tree, although the specimens of the latter plant were rather
poor and of small growth.
Having enjoyed the scenery for some time, I went with my young Shúwa
lad, in order to obtain a sight of the river, of which as yet I had seen
nothing here. Emerging from the fine group of trees, I found that only a
very small creek without an outlet at the present season, closely
approached the town, while an extensive swampy lowland extended far into
the river. But for several months in the year this lowland is inundated,
with the exception, perhaps, of a few spots which rise to a greater
height, and are adorned with talha trees.
At present the name of Gʿawó is given not only to the site of the former
capital, but also to the island, and even to the opposite shore of
Áribínda; and I once supposed, that the chief part of the town was
situated on the island, but this does not appear to have been the case;
neither does it appear to have stood on the western bank. The fact is
that in former times there were two distinct quarters of Gógó, the
quarter of the idolaters on the western bank towards Gúrma, and the
royal and Mohammedan quarter on the eastern bank towards Egypt, whence
Islám, with its accompanying civilization, had been introduced. In the
course of time the latter quarter would gain over the former, which from
the beginning, when pagan worship was prevalent, was no doubt the more
considerable.
Even at present, when all this ground was left dry by the retiring
waters and formed a rich grassy island, only a few huts were seen on the
island, as well as on the shore of Áribínda. But the present inhabitants
appear scarcely to be in want of the river, for only a single seaworthy
boat was to be seen, and four others out of repair were lying on the
shore. The natives, when I expressed my astonishment at the miserable
state of their craft, complained that they had no wood for building
boats. Between the huts and the little creek, which by means of a
northerly branch serves to irrigate the rice-fields, there is a tobacco
plantation. It is here that the finest trees are grouped together, and I
now observed, that besides from twenty to twenty-five date palms, which
were just full of fruit, bordering upon ripeness, there were two or
three dúm-palms.
Having thus surveyed the river, I took a turn round the hamlet, which
altogether consists of about 300 huts, grouped in separate clusters, and
surrounded by heaps of rubbish, which seemed to indicate the site of
some larger buildings of the former city. While walking round the huts,
the women came out from their “búge,” or matting huts, and gathered
cheerfully round us, exclaiming one above the other, “Nasára, nasára,
Allah aákbar!” “A Christian, a Christian: God is great!” but they seemed
to take a greater interest in my younger Shúwa lad than in myself,
dancing round him in a very cheerful and fascinating manner. Some of
them had tolerably regular features, and were tall and of good
proportions. They were all dressed in the same style, very different
from the dress of the women in Timbúktu, having a broad wrapper of thick
woollen cloth of different coloured stripes fastened below the breast,
so that it came down almost to their ankles, and many of them had even
fastened this dress over their shoulders by a pair of short braces, in
the same way as men wear their trowsers in Europe, and others had simply
fastened it from behind.
While I was thus walking round the village, I met an old man who greeted
me in the most cheerful manner, and attached himself to me. From what he
intimated, I could not but conclude, that he had come into close contact
with the Christian who so many years ago navigated this river in such a
mysterious manner; but, unfortunately, he was of weak understanding, and
I could not make out half of what he said to me. I regretted this the
more as he conducted me through the heaps of rubbish to a long narrow
clay building at a short distance west from the mosque, where he wanted
to show me something of interest, but the owner of the house refused me
admittance.
Leaving then the furthermost huts on my right, I turned my steps towards
the jíngeré-bér, and endeavoured to make out as well as I could the plan
of this building.
According to all appearance, the mosque consisted originally of a low
building, flanked on the east and west side by a large tower, the whole
courtyard being surrounded by a wall about eight feet in height. The
eastern tower is in ruins, but the western one is still tolerably well
preserved, though its proportions are extremely heavy. It rises in seven
terraces, which gradually decrease in diameter, so that while the lowest
measures from forty to fifty feet on each side, the highest does not
appear to exceed fifteen. The inhabitants still offer their prayers in
this sacred place, where their great conqueror, Háj Mohammed, is
interred, although they have not sufficient energy to repair the whole.
The east quarter of the mosque evidently was formerly the most
frequented and best inhabited part of the town, and is entirely girded
with a thick grove of siwák bushes, which covers all the uninhabited
part of the former city. The town, in its most flourishing period, seems
to have had a circumference of about six miles. According to the
statement of Leo[37], it appears never to have been surrounded by a
wall. The dwellings in general do not seem to have been distinguished by
their style of architecture, with the exception of the residence of the
king, although even that was of such a description that the Bashá Jódar,
on conquering the town, wrote to inform his master, Múláy e’ Dhéhebi,
that the house of the Sheikh el Harám, in Morocco, was much better than
the palace of the Áskia.[38]
When I returned to my tent from this my first excursion, I found a great
crowd of men assembled there, but was unable to make the acquaintance of
any one who might give me some information about the place, and, on the
whole, I did not succeed in entering into any amicable relations with
the inhabitants of Gógó. Their sullen behaviour seems to be accounted
for by the fact, as I shall mention further on, that they had behaved
rather treacherously towards the Christian who had visited this place
some fifty years before.
I endeavoured also, although in vain, to buy Indian corn, from the
inhabitants, although it was perhaps the fear of the Tawárek which made
them deny that they had any. Thus I found myself reduced to the
necessity of providing myself with a supply of úzak, or eníti, that is
to say, the seeds of the _Pennisetum distichum_, which is generally used
as an article of food by the Tawárek, my horses having fared very badly
for some time.
It was not until the second day of our arrival, that my protector,
accompanied by Hanna, Khozématen, Hammalába, and the other chief men of
the Kél e’ Súk, who had come to have an interview with him, joined us.
These people were mounted partly on camels, partly on horseback, and the
large open area which spread out between the mosque and our tents thus
became greatly enlivened; and it was not long before the messengers who
had been sent to Alkúttabu returned with the answer, that he would meet
the Sheikh in this place in three days. It almost appeared as if Gógó
was again to acquire some slight historical importance, as the place of
meeting between the native chiefs of these disturbed regions and a
European, anxious to inspire the natives of these countries with fresh
energy, and to establish a regular intercourse along the high-road which
nature herself has prepared.
When all these people arrived, I was just busy laying down, as well as
circumstances allowed, my route from Timbúktu to Gógó, which I was very
anxious to finish, and to send off from here, and thus to secure the
results of my exploration, in case of any mischance befalling myself. At
that time, the legs of my table being broken, I was obliged to finish
this map on a board placed upon my knees, and sitting on my mat, as I
had at that period neither chair nor box. Having finished this business,
I went with the Sheikh, in order to pay my compliments to the Kél e’
Súk, who had just concluded their prayers. The two chiefs, Khozématen
and Hanna, principally claimed my attention. But, although they were
very respectable men, it was a rather curious circumstance that both
were blind, or nearly so; Hanna, who was the elder by two years, had
only one eye, and Khozématen was totally blind; notwithstanding which,
he felt confident that I was able to cure him.
Besides the transactions with these people, the preparations for my home
journey were going on, although slowly; and the Sheikh addressed a
letter in my favour to the chiefs on the road along which I had to pass.
It was couched in flattering terms, and could not fail to be of the
greatest service to me after my separation from him.[39] Notwithstanding
that a tolerable variety of business was on hand, the locality soon
became loathsome to me on account of the great heat which prevailed. The
shade which was afforded by the fine sycamores near the river, was at
too great a distance from my tent, and too much frequented by birds, to
be of any avail. I was therefore glad that the visit of some other
people induced my host to interrupt our stay here by a small excursion.
These people were the Gá-béro, as they are generally called, or,
according to their original nomenclature, Súdu-kámil, a numerous tribe
of Fúlbe, who have been settled in these regions for several hundred
years, and from fear of the persecution of the Áskíá, or Síkkíá, have
exchanged their own native language for that of the inhabitants of the
country. They had formerly enjoyed almost undisturbed liberty, in a
state of nominal dependence on the governor of Say; but some time
previously they had been forced to acknowledge the supremacy of Hómbori,
the governor of which place had made an expedition against them, and
killed some thirty of their number. They therefore desired the Sheikh to
come and extend his protection over them and to impart blessing to them.
However, we did not leave this place till the afternoon of the 25th.
Having left behind us the area of the ancient town, and then traversed a
plain clad with small talha-trees and dúm-bush, we reached, after a
march of about four miles, the grassy border of the river, and boldly
entered the swampy grounds; for in the midst of these lowlands, from
whence the river had retired, there were several clusters of matting-
huts, inhabited by Gá-béro and Rumá. Not having taken any tents with us,
sheds were erected both for El Bakáy and myself, but they were in a
miserable condition, and it was fortunate that a thunder-storm, which
had hovered over our heads almost the whole of the afternoon, was moving
northwards, where a great deal of rain fell, and left us tolerably free
from wet and wind.
[Sidenote: Monday, June 26th.]
The inhabitants of the hamlet treated us rather inhospitably; and we set
out at an early hour to pursue our march in the swampy vale. After
proceeding for about a mile, we passed a small hamlet, situated on a
rising ground, adorned with dúm-palms. Crossing several small channels,
where the people were busy renewing the dykes encompassing the rice-
fields, we reached the firm shore, which was adorned with dúm-bush,
fernán, kalgo, tursha, and damankádda. The river, which forms here a
tolerably open sheet, is bordered on the side of Áribínda by a steep
bank, which, a little further on, is succeeded by sandy downs. However,
after a short time, we were again obliged to enter the low swampy
ground, which at present formed a wide grassy gulf enclosed by hills.
The plain was cultivated with a good deal of sorghum, the blades of
which were just starting forth, but the grain does not ripen before the
period when the inundation covers this spot, and transforms it into a
lake-like widening of the river. Winding along between several channels
which had not yet dried up, we were glad when we again reached the firm
shore, where the rocky slope, from 80 to 100 feet elevation, closely
approaches the open river. A party of Kél e’ Súk were just pitching
their tents here.
Keeping along the narrow slip of level shore, which gradually became
more and more compressed, from which circumstance the locality is called
Tin-shéran, we found ourselves, after a march of about a mile, opposite
an encampment of the Gá-béro, spreading out on a flat sandy beach, which
at present formed the border of a very extensive grassy plain, but
which, when the river rises to a greater height, forms a sort of
sandbank, till it is overwhelmed, in its turn, by the rising waters of
the Niger. These being the people who had invited us to come and pay
them a visit, we chose our camping-ground on the high sandhills forming
the offshoots of the rocky slope, which here rose to the height of 200
or 300 feet. It was a beautiful open place, and the Gá-béro[40], as soon
as they observed us, began to beat their drum, or tobl, and prepared to
cross over to us. To accomplish this, however, it was first necessary
for them to borrow some boats, as they themselves did not possess any,
from fear of the Tawárek, who might easily cross over to them, and annoy
them.
Having sent three oxen swimming across the river as a first token of
hospitality, they began to raise a very neat matting-dwelling for the
Sheikh; but my noble friend, with great courtesy, gave it up to me, and
ordered another for himself. These people exhibited great superiority
both in carriage and intelligence over the Songhay inhabitants, although
their dress is not very different from that of the Fúlbe, being only a
little fuller and less shabby. A few, such as their chief, Hanna, and
his people, wear black tobes, with pockets of red cloth, like the
Tawárek. Their wives dress like the Songhay women, wrapping a woollen
shawl round the lower part of the body, below the breast, and fastening
it over the shoulder.
They derive their descent partly from Fúta, and partly from the tribe of
the Úrube settled in Másina. Some sherífs are also stated to have
intermarried with them: and it was with considerable interest that I
beheld among them several individuals with real Púllo features. They are
greatly afraid, not less of the Fúlbe of Hómbori (the place mentioned in
my outward journey, which is only four good days’ march distant from
here), than of the Kortíta, a division of the Songhay settled further
down the river. They were therefore most anxious to possess a double
talisman against this twofold danger which threatened them, and received
a blessing from me as well as from the Sheikh; for although I told them
repeatedly that the blessing of the Sheikh was quite sufficient for
them, they insisted upon receiving my own benediction likewise. I now
learned that several of them had made my personal acquaintance on a
former occasion, having been among the troop of natives who assisted me
in crossing the dangerous swamp a few miles from Áribínda.
In this place, which is called Borno, or Barno, we remained the four
following days; and I might have enjoyed the fine air and the charming
view over the river, notwithstanding my eager desire to continue my
journey without any longer delay, if it had not been that I was badly
off for food, the rice with which we were supplied not being seasoned
with salt, and there being an entire lack of milk. The communication
with the opposite shore was rendered rather difficult by the great
breadth of the open river, which, moreover, became repeatedly agitated
by a thunder-storm, and was infested by several hippopotami, which at
times were furiously snorting about in the river, as if in anger at our
having disturbed their quiet retreat. The day of our arrival they had
thrown the whole of our horses into disorder, and put them to flight
while they were pasturing near the shore. They even at times interrupted
the intercourse between the two banks, and altogether exhibited a very
noisy character, especially during the evening and in the course of the
night, when they wanted to come out for their usual food. Two white
“ar,” a rather rare species of antelope in these quarters, were seen by
some of my companions on the rocky heights above.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.