[Sidenote: Tuesday, July 18th.]
The beginning of our journey without a guide was not very fortunate;
for, having set out first from our encampment, endeavouring to cut off
the great windings of the river, with my camels and my three freed
blacks, my companions, in the dawn of the morning, lost the traces of my
footsteps upon the grassy undulating ground, and it was some time before
they joined me. The ground became at times stony, talha, gerredh, and
other species of mimosas, being the predominant trees; and after a march
of eight miles, we had to ascend another ridge, clothed with thick
forest, where the kúka, or tédumt, the monkey bread-tree, which I had
not seen for so long a time, was very common. This was an almost certain
sign of the locality having once been a centre of human life, but at
present only the traces of a former ksar, or hamlet, were to be seen.
Having then crossed a small “rek,” or “faire,” that is to say, a barren,
naked plain, we descended again, while the desolate character of the
country continued, and the only signs of human life which we observed
were the traces of two men, with three head of cattle, probably robbers
from the other side of the river, who were returning to their haunts
with their booty. But gradually the country assumed a more cheerful
aspect, being clad with large trees, and exhibiting evident signs of
former cultivation, while isolated masses of rock were projecting here
and there. The country altogether was so pleasant, that having met with
a shallow pond of water, in a trough-like cavity of the grassy ground,
we decided on encamping, for it was with great difficulty that I was
able to drag on my companions more than fifteen miles a day at the
utmost.
However, we had scarcely pitched our tents, when we became aware that
our camping-ground close beyond the belt of trees with which it was
girt, was skirted by a small rivulet, which although full of rocks was
yet so deep, that it afforded sufficient room for crocodiles or
alligators, and was not fordable here. It was a pity that we had not a
guide with us who might have given us some clear information respecting
the features of the country, for the conjecture of my companions[43],
who fancied that this rivulet took its rise to the south of Hómbori,
where it was called Ágelé was quite absurd if it be correct that the
Galíndu which we had crossed the preceding day was really the lower
course of the river near Áribínda; but it is very difficult to say how
these courses correspond, and nothing is more likely than that the same
watercourse may join the Niger by several openings. As it was, we had a
long dispute as to the manner in which we should cross this water, and
the following morning we had to take a tedious roundabout way to get
over it.
After a march of two miles from our starting point we reached a
crossway. We followed the advice of the Wádáwi, who, having taken the
lead at the moment, chose the path to our left, though that on the right
crosses the rivulet at this spot; but in the end it was perhaps as well
that we did so, as otherwise we should scarcely have been able to ford
it. We therefore continued our march after my companions had finished
their prayers, which, as we always set out at an early hour, they used
to say on the road. The open pasture grounds were here broken by large
boulders of granite, while the rivulet, girt by fine large trees,
approached on our right, or at least one branch of it, the river
dividing near its mouth into a delta of a great many smaller branches.
We here changed our direction, keeping parallel along the shore of the
great river, where on a rocky island was situated the village of Ayóru
or Airu, from whence a troop of about twenty people were just proceeding
towards their field labours. Most of them were tall, well made men,
almost naked, with the exception of a white cap and a clean white cotton
wrapper. Two or three of them wore blue tobes. Their weapons consisted
of a bow and arrows, or a spear, and their agricultural implements were
limited to a long handled hoe of a peculiar shape, such as is called
jerrán by the Arabs, and kámbul by the Songhay. But besides a weapon and
implement, each of them bore a small bowl, containing a large round clod
of pounded millet, and a little curdled milk, which they hospitably
offered to us, although it constituted their whole supply of food for
the day. We rewarded them with a few needles and by repeating the fat-há
or opening prayer of the Kurán.[44] It was, moreover, very fortunate
that we had met them just here, as, if not directed by their
information, we should scarcely have been able to cross without accident
these numerous creeks, some of which were of an extremely boggy nature,
and others obstructed by rocks, which caused us considerable delay; for
the principal branch or góru of the rivulet was not less than about
thirty-five yards broad, and about two and a half feet in depth, with a
rocky bottom. Fine busúsu, or tamarind trees, and wide-spreading duwé,
or fig trees, adorned the delta, while a good deal of a kind of grain
called “adelénka,” or “donhére,” was cultivated in the fields.
Having at length left this difficult delta of small rivulets behind us,
which may occasionally cause great trouble to a traveller, we ascended
sandy downs, and obtained from thence a view over the whole valley,
which here rather resembles a large well-timbered fáddama than a river,
only a small open branch becoming visible, not obstructed by rocks. The
district exhibited a good deal of cultivation, the fields of Ayóru
extending for more than two miles, and the low shore of the creek was
adorned further on by a rich profusion of kenya or tedúmunt. The richly-
wooded islands afforded a very pleasant sight, one of them being
enlivened by a great number of horses, which were left here to pasture,
and the shore formed one uninterrupted line of tamarind trees. But the
navigation may be very difficult here, as from time to time, the river,
or at least as much as we saw of it, became greatly obstructed by rocks.
It was pleasing to observe that we had at length entered more hospitable
regions, for a short time after we left behind us the fields of Ayóru,
cultivated ground again succeeded, and apparently very well kept.
Having then turned round a swampy gulf, we ascended higher ground, and
now obtained a view of the remarkably wild scenery of the river which
attaches to the island of Kendáji and the rocky cone Wárba, which had
been in sight all the morning, and encamped, at half-past eleven
o’clock, on a rising ground at some distance from the island. The river
here presented a very wild character, so that it almost seemed as if the
navigation was interrupted entirely. Between the island of Kendáji and
the rocky cone there really does not appear to be any passage open; but
beyond the island there are evidently two more branches, and, as far as
it can be seen from here, they are not nearly so much obstructed by
rocks. The village seemed to be of considerable size, the huts covering
the whole surface of the island; but, at the time of our arrival, not a
living soul was to be seen, with the exception of an unfortunate man who
was lamed by Guinea-worm, all the healthy people having gone to the
labours of the field. But in the course of the afternoon the scenery
became pleasantly enlivened by the arrival of a numerous herd of cattle
and a flock of sheep, belonging to Fúlbe settlers in the neighbourhood,
that were brought here to be watered.
Gradually, also, the inhabitants of the village returned from their
labours, and began to give life to the scenery, crossing over to their
insulated domicile in small canoes. Others, in the company of their
chief, came to pay us a visit. The latter was a man of tall, stout
figure, but of not very intelligent expression of countenance, and, as
it appeared, not of a very liberal and hospitable disposition, for he
received the eloquent address of my noble friend the Wádáwi, who adduced
all the claims which he and his party had upon the chief’s hospitality,
very coldly, answering through the medium of a Púllo fáki who had been
staying here for some time, and rather laying claim himself to a
handsome present than acknowledging the demands made upon him by my
companions for hospitable treatment. The most interesting feature about
this petty chief was his name, which reminded one of the more glorious
times of the Songhay empire, for he called himself “Farma-Érkezu-izze;”
“farma” being, as I have said on a former occasion, the princely title
of a governor; “izze” means son, Érkezu being the name of his father. It
was also highly interesting to me to observe that these Songhay, the
inhabitants of Kendáji as well as those of Ayóru, call themselves, in
their native language, Kádo (in the singular) and Hábe (in the plural
form); a name which the Fúlbe have made use of to indicate, in general,
the Kóhelán, or the native black population of all the regions conquered
by themselves; and it seems almost as if the latter had taken the name
from this tribe.
Besides these Songhay, we also received a visit from a Tárki gentleman
of the name of Mísakh, son of Ellékken, and nephew of Sínnefel, the
chief of the Ímelíggizen of Áribínda. These people are on hostile terms
with their brethren in Áussa, where the populous district Amára is
situated, and thus, fortunately, undermine their own strength, which is
only employed in the way of mischief, although they are still strong
enough to lay heavy contributions upon the poor Songhay inhabitants of
these distracted shores. They had levied, the preceding year, a tribute
of four horses on the people of Kendáji, and a camel, together with a
quantity of corn, upon those of Ayóru. But although our guest, who was
accompanied by two or three followers, was a rather decent young man,
nevertheless, the neighbourhood of these Tawárek inspired us with just
as little confidence as the behaviour of our friends the Songhay on the
island; and we kept a good watch, firing the whole night. Nothing is
more probable than that Park had a serious quarrel with these islanders.
Fortunately we were not disturbed; and we set out from our camping-
ground at a very early hour, in order to make a good day’s journey, but
we were first obliged to search about in the two hamlets which lie
opposite the island, and one at the very foot of the rocky cone of
Wárba, for the guide that had been promised to us the preceding day. We
had scarcely set out fairly on our march, when a heavy thunderstorm
rising in the south-east, threatened us with a serious deluge, and
obliged us to seek shelter under some trees to the right of our path. We
then unloaded the camels, and endeavoured to protect ourselves and the
luggage, as well as possible, with the skins and mattings; but the storm
was confined to a very violent gale, which scattered the clouds, so that
only very little rain fell. Having thus lost almost two hours of the
best part of the day, we proceeded on our march, not now digressing to
the right and left, but following a broad, well trodden path, which led
us through carefully cultivated cornfields, shaded with fine hájilíj.
But soon the ground became more undulating, and we followed a sort of
backwater, at some distance from the principal branch of the river, and
then crossed a cavity or hollow, where calcareous rock interrupted the
granite. The river also, in its present low state, laid bare a good many
rocky islets, and further on divided into five branches, over which,
from the rising bank, we obtained an interesting view, with a cone, on
the Áussa shore, towards the north. One of the islands was handsomely
adorned with dúm-palms, while the shore was clothed with a plant called
“hekík.”
This district appeared to be extremely fertile, and its populous state,
after the desolate region which we had traversed, seemed the more
remarkable; for soon after, having passed a small hamlet, we had on the
opposite shore the considerable place Tornáre, and just beyond, on an
island, another village called Fíchile, densely inhabited and full of
life and bustle. Scarcely had we passed this busy place on our left,
when another hamlet appeared called Kochómere, and it was most
gratifying to behold the river, which, during the greater part of our
journey, had seemed to roll its mighty stream along without the least
use being made of it, covered with small canoes, which carried over to
our shore numbers of people who were going to the labours of the field.
The bank itself also became here beautified by a variety of luxuriant
trees, such as the kéwa, the dingi, the baúre, the hájilíj, and others
of various species, the hájilíj, especially, exhibiting here a very
luxuriant and rich growth. A sort of shallow grassy creek separated from
the bank a low island, which, during the highest state of the
inundation, is under water.
Two miles beyond Tornáre the character of the country changed and deep
sandy soil, clothed with the herbage called rodám, and destitute of
trees, succeeded to the fine arable soil; but after a march of about a
mile, cultivation again appeared, and even extended over the hilly chain
which we ascended. We then passed a slave village called Gandútan,
belonging to the Tárki chief, Mohammed el Amín, where numerous horses
were seen grazing in the fields, distinguished by the kind of herbage
called by the Arabs el debédi, in which my companions were delighted to
recognize an old friend of theirs, as growing also plentifully in the
Áberas of Timbúktu. Crossing the plain, where we met several travellers,
we began to ascend the slope of a promontory called Ém-Aláwen, and soon
reached the residence of the chief just mentioned, who is the head of
one of the two divisions of the Erátafáni. The village consisted of 150
to 200 huts of matting, with a larger and a smaller leathern tent in the
centre; but as it did not offer any cool shade, being perched on the
bare hot gravel overlying the rock, we thought it very uninviting, and
preferred descending the steep eastern slope, upon the narrow slip of
the low shore which stretched along the river, and which, being richly
clothed with hájilíj, baúre, and other trees, offered a very pleasant
resting-place. We were, however, not allowed to enjoy much repose, but
were soon visited by the whole male population of the village, Tawárek
and Songhay, full-grown men and children, who gathered round us with
great curiosity, but without entering into close conversation, as they
did not know what to make of me, and scrutinized suspiciously what my
real character might be, my companions passing me for a sheríf.
Later in the afternoon the chief himself, who had not been present on
our arrival, paid us a visit, and behaved in a very becoming manner, so
that I made him a present of half a lithám, while I distributed a
quantity of needles amongst his people. The place was tolerably well
supplied with provisions, and I bought a good supply of butter and rice;
but milk was scarce, although I succeeded in bartering a small quantity
for some dates, of which these people were extremely fond. A little
below our encampment, on the low shore, there was a farm, and on the
island nearest the shore, two small hamlets; for the branch of the
river, which in general appears to be of considerable depth, was studded
with green islands, which stretched out lengthwise in two parallel rows,
being of the same height as the bank on which we were encamped, and
which at present formed a steep descent to the shores of the river of
about ten feet, rendering the watering of the horses very difficult. It
was only with the utmost exertion that we rescued one of them which fell
into the stream.
The whole district is said to be greatly infested by lions, and we saw
the remains of four horses, which a single individual of that species
had torn to pieces the preceding day; but, notwithstanding the strength
and ferocity of this animal, I was assured by all the inhabitants that
the lion of this region, like that of Áír, has no mane, and that its
outward appearance was altogether very unlike that beautiful skin upon
which I used to lie down, being the _exuviæ_ of an animal from Lógone.
[Sidenote: Friday, July 21st.]
On our way hither the preceding day, we had been overtaken, near the
village of Gandútan, by a band of some three or four Songhay people, who
had rather a warlike and enterprising appearance, and were very well
mounted. Having kept close to us for some time, and spoken a great deal
about my arms, they had disappeared, but at a very early hour this
morning, while it was yet dark, and we were getting our luggage ready
for the day’s march, they again appeared and inspired my companions with
some little fear, as to their ulterior intentions. They therefore,
induced the chief of the Erátafáni to accompany us for a while, with
some of his people on horseback; as they were well aware that the
Songhay who at present have almost entirely lost their independence,
cannot undertake any enterprise without the connivance of the Tawárek.
But as for myself I was not quite sure who were most to be feared, our
protectors, or those vagabonds of whom my companions were so much
afraid; for although the chief himself seemed to be a respectable man,
these people, who are of a mixed race of Tawárek and Songhay, do not
appear to be very trustworthy, and I should advise any traveller in this
region to be more on his guard against them than against the true
Tawárek. But under the present circumstances when they accompanied us on
the road, I thought it better to tell them plainly who I was, although
my companions had endeavoured to keep them in the dark respecting my
real character. They had taken me for a Ghadámsi merchant, who wanted to
pass through their territory without making them a suitable present.
After I had made this confession they became much more cheerful and
openhearted, and we parted the best of friends. The cunning Wádáwi also
contributed towards establishing with them a more intimate relation, by
bartering his little pony for one of their mares. Nothing renders people
in these countries so communicative, and at the same time allays their
suspicions so much, as a little trading.
Having separated from our friends, and made our way with some difficulty
through a tract of country partly inundated, we at length fell in with a
well-trodden path, where on our right a low hilly chain approached. Here
a little dúm-bush began to appear, and, further on, monkey-bread trees
adorned the landscape; but the river, after having approached for a
short time with its wide valley, retired to such a distance, that not
having provided a supply of water, we began to suffer from thirst. I
therefore rode in advance and chose a place for a short halt during the
midday heat, where a sort of fáddama, which during the highest state of
the inundation forms a considerable open sheet of water round an island
thickly clad with dúm-palms, indents the rising bank of the river,
offering, even at the present time, a handsome tank of clear water. The
surrounding slope was adorned with a fine grove of dúm-palms, and,
protected by the shade of some rich hájilíj, produced a great profusion
of succulent herbage.
Having rested in this pleasant spot for a couple of hours, we pursued
our march along this green hollow at present half dried up, and feeding
also a good many tamarind trees, and after a march of about half a mile,
reached the spot where this shallow branch joins a considerable open arm
of the river, which here is tolerably free from rocks. A little below,
it is compressed between rocky masses projecting from either bank,
intersecting the whole branch, so that only a narrow passage is left,
enclosed as it were by a pair of iron gates formed by nature. Yet the
navigation was not obstructed even at the present season, as a boat
about thirty-five feet long and rowed by six men, which went quickly
past us, evidently proved. The path was lined with mushrooms, called by
my companions tobl e ndéri.
This branch of the river presented a very different aspect when, after
having ascended a rising ground, we had cut off a bend or elbow of the
river, for here it formed a kind of rapid, over which the water foamed
along, and from the circumstance of the boat having followed another
branch, this locality did not seem to be passable at present. The low
shores, which are annually inundated, and even now left swampy ground
between us and the river, were cultivated with rice; the higher ground,
rising above the reach of the inundation, bordered by a belt of
damankádda and thorny bushes, was reserved for millet; and beyond, the
whole valley, which is here very broad, is bordered by a mountainous
chain. The rocky nature of the river was further demonstrated by a
remarkable group of rocks rising from an island a little further on, and
affording a very conspicuous landmark; but, in general, this part of its
course seems to be free from cliffs.
We had long strained our eyes in vain in order to obtain a sight of the
large town of Sínder, which we knew to be situated on an island, till at
length, from a hilly chain which here borders the river, we obtained a
fair sight of the whole breadth of the valley, and were able to
distinguish an extensive range of huts spreading over one or two islands
in the river. Here, therefore, we encamped at the side of a few huts,
although it would have been more prudent, as we afterwards found, to
have chosen our encampment a little lower down the river, where a
channel leads straight to the island of Sínder, with which we wanted to
open communication; while, from the spot where we actually encamped,
another considerable island-town called Garú lies in front of it.
The whole valley, which is probably not less than from six to eight
miles broad, and is studded with extensive islands, is very fertile, and
tolerably well inhabited. The two towns together, Garú and Sínder,
according to the little I saw of them, did not seem to contain less than
from 16,000 to 18,000 inhabitants, and are of the utmost importance to
Europeans in any attempt to navigate the upper part of the river, as
they must here prepare to encounter great difficulties with the natives,
and at the same time ought here to provide themselves with corn
sufficient to carry them almost to Timbúktu. For Sínder, which in some
respects still acknowledges the authority of the governor of Say, is
also the market for all the corn used in this district. A large quantity
of millet can at any time be readily obtained here, and during my
journey was even exported in large quantities to supply the wants of the
whole of the provinces of Zabérma and Déndina. Notwithstanding this
great demand, the price was very low, and I bartered half a suníye of
dukhn, equal to about two hundred pounds’ weight, for a piece of black
cloth, feruwál, or zenne, which I had purchased in Gando for 1050
shells, a very low price indeed, not only when we take into account the
state of things in Europe, but even when we consider the condition of
the other countries of Negroland. I was also fortunate enough to barter
the eighth part of a lump of rock salt from Taödénni, for eight drʿa of
shásh or muslin; but as for rice, it is difficult to be got here, at
least in a prepared state, although rice in the husk, or kókesh, is in
abundance.
A great many people visited me, and altogether behaved very friendly. In
this little suburb, where we had encamped, there was staying a very
clever fáki, belonging originally to the Gá-béro, and called Mohammed
Sáleh. To my great astonishment I became aware that this man was
acquainted with my whole story; and, upon inquiring how he had obtained
his information, I learned that a pilgrim, named Mohammed Fádhl, a
native of the distant country of Fúta, who, being engaged in a
pilgrimage, had undertaken the journey from Timbúktu along the river in
a boat, had acquainted the people with all my proceedings in that place.
This fáki also informed us of the present state of Háusa. He told us
that Dáúd, the rebellious prince of Zerma, or Zabérma, after his whole
army had been cut to pieces by Ábú el Hassan, had made his escape to
Yélu, the capital of Déndina, where the rebels were still keeping their
ground. Meanwhile ʿAlíyu, the Emír el Múmenín, had arrived before
Argúngo, but in consequence of his own unwarlike character, and a
dispute with Khalílu, to whom that part of Kebbi belongs, had retraced
his steps, without achieving anything worthy of notice. But I learned
that, owing to the revolt continuing, the Dendi were still in open
rebellion, and that, in consequence, the road from Támkala to Fógha was
as unsafe as ever, although part of the Máuri had again returned to
their allegiance.
I should have liked very much to visit the town of Sínder, but not
feeling well, and for other reasons, I thought it more prudent to remain
where I was; for, besides the fact that the governor himself is only in
a certain degree dependent on the ruler of Say, there were here a good
many Tawárek roving about, which rendered it not advisable for me to
separate from my luggage; I therefore gave a small present to my
companions, which they were to offer to the governor in my name. In
consequence of this they were well received; and the governor himself
came to meet them half-way between the towns of Sínder and Garú, and
behaved very friendly to them.
[Sidenote: Sunday, July 23rd.]
After a rainy night, we left this rich and populous district, in order
to pursue our journey to Say. Keeping close along the bank of the river,
our attention was soon attracted by some young palm bushes covered with
fruit, which caused a long dispute between my people and the followers
of the Sheikh, part of them asserting that it was the oil-palm, while
others affirmed it to be the date-palm. This latter opinion appeared the
correct one, considering that the oil-palm does not grow at any distance
from salt water; for on our whole journey through the interior, we had
only met with it in the valley of Fógha, which contains a great quantity
of salt. This opinion was confirmed by further observation, when we
discovered the male and female seeds, which wanted nothing but the
civilising influence of man in order to produce good fruit. Without an
artificial alliance of the male and female, the fruit remains in a wild
and embryo-like state. Thus keeping along the shore, we passed several
islands in the river, first Juntu, and at a short distance from it
Bisse-gúngu; further on Kóma and Bossa, adorned with a fine growth of
trees; and about five miles from our halting-place, after we had passed
a small hilly chain called Mári, the island of Néni, which is likewise
richly timbered. This island is remarkable on account of its being the
birthplace of the great Songhay conqueror, Háj Mohammed Áskíá, or
Síkkíá.
Our march was the more interesting, as we were so fortunate as to be
accompanied by the fáki Mohammed Sáleh, whose acquaintance I had made
during my stay near Garú. He was very communicative and social, and I
regretted that I was not allowed to traverse in his company the whole
territory of the independent Songhay in various directions. He dwelt
particularly on the distinguishing character of Dargol, the principal
seat of the free Songhay, especially the Koi-zé, with the remains of the
royal family of the Síkkíá, of which several princes were still living.
My companion also informed me of the attack which the natives of Gurma
under the command of their chief Wentínne, in conjunction with the
Songhay, had made a short time previously upon the emír of the Toróde,
or Tórobe. He likewise gave me an account of the extensive dominion of
Dáúd, the grandfather of ʿOmár, the present chief of the Erátafán, who
succeeded in founding a large kingdom, when he was murdered by a rival
nephew, and all his power was annihilated.
Our sociable and well-informed companion now left us. A little lower
down the river on the opposite bank are the villages of Tilla-béra and
Tilla-kaina, which are governed by ʿOthmán, a relation of Mohammed
Tondo. The whole country is undulating, covered with rank grass, and
adorned with hájilíj, and altogether left a pleasing impression; while
here and there, cultivated ground, with crops shooting up to the height
of from two to four feet, gave some variety to the landscape. A little
further on, large monkey-bread trees appeared; and beyond that, besides
talha, of a rather luxuriant growth, kalgo also became plentiful. The
river was at some distance from the path, so that we encamped a little
after noon in the midst of the forest, near a swampy pond full of
herbage and musquitoes, and surrounded with large luxuriant monkey-bread
trees and fine sycamores. I felt here extremely feverish, and was
obliged to take a good dose of medicine.
[Sidenote: Monday, July 24th.]
Having been detained by a heavy thunder-storm, we at length started,
traversing a dense forest full of monkey-bread trees, and extending
about two miles. We then turned round a large swampy inlet, when a hilly
chain approached on our right, and the shore of the river was clad with
a rich bush called _yéu_ by my companions.
About two miles beyond, we reached a hamlet called Ázemay spreading out
on a hill, and encamped a short distance beyond towards the south-east.
The village is inhabited by Tawárek of the tribe of the Erátafán, who
have exchanged their nomadic habits for those of settlers, but without
giving up their character or language. A few Kél e’ Súk live amongst
them; but nearly half the population of the village consists of Fúlbe,
of the tribe of the Zoghorán, this settlement presenting the remarkable
instance of a peaceful amalgamation of these two tribes. But the
Erátafán, as I have stated above, have lost their former power, although
under the dominion of Dáúd, they held all the towns as far as Say under
their sway. Notwithstanding their diminished power, they appeared to be
well off, for not only were they dressed decently, but they also treated
us hospitably with excellent furá, the favourite Háusa dish of sour milk
with pounded millet; and in the evening they sent a great quantity of
pudding and milk, and a young heifer.
I here provided myself with a supply of corn, as I had been given to
understand that it fetches a high price in the market of Say. I found
that the price already far exceeded that of Sínder, one feruwál of Gando
buying only twenty-three kél of millet; but my camels were extremely
weak, and one had died the preceding night, so that I was not able to
carry with me a greater supply. As for rice, none was to be had, and no
cultivation of this grain was to be seen, although it might be supposed
to succeed here, the river being wide and forming a large island called
Délluwé.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, July 25th.]
The good treatment of the people of Ázemay made my companions rather
unwilling to leave this place so soon, and a further delay was caused by
their bartering. When at length we set out on our march, we had to make
a considerable detour, in order to avoid the lower course of a rivulet,
which is here not passable. Our path lay through corn-fields till we
reached the village of Kasánni, consisting of two groups, one of which
was surrounded by a keffi, or stockade, and inhabited by Fúlbe; the
other was merely a slave hamlet. Rich corn-fields, shaded by fine trees
and broken by projecting rocks, extended on all sides. Close beyond this
hamlet, we crossed a little rivulet called Téderimt by the Tawárek,
which in this spot, although only twenty-one feet wide and a foot in
depth, caused us a short delay, owing to its banks rising to the height
of about ten feet. But inconsiderable as was the size of the river, it
became important to me, as in crossing it my ear was greeted for the
first time by the usual Háusa salute, which I had not heard for so long
a time, and which transported me once more into a region for which I had
contracted a great predilection, and which among all the tracts that I
had visited in Negroland, I had found the most agreeable for a foreigner
to reside in.
We then continued our march through the district of Góte, which is
chiefly adorned with the monkey-bread tree, till we reached a small
village called Bóse, which is inhabited by the tribe of the Koi-zé or
Koizáten (who came originally from Damgót). It consisted entirely of the
kind of huts which are usual in Háusa, and manifested that we had left
the Songhay architecture behind us. But although it possesses a small
mosque, most of the inhabitants, together with the head man himself, are
idolaters. Here we were hospitably treated with a bowl of ghussub-water,
while I had to give the people my blessing in return. Two miles and a
half beyond Bóse lies the village of Hendóbo, on a small branch of the
river. We encamped a short distance from it, in the shade of a luxuriant
duwé, on a ground rising slightly from the swampy plain opposite the
island Barma-gúngu, which is situated a little further in the midst of
the river, which here, from N. 20° W. to S. 20° E., changes its course
to a direction from N. 20° E. to S. 20° W.
The island is adorned with dúm-palms, and is the residence of the chief
of the Kortíta, or Kortébe, whose real name is Slímán or Solímán Géro
Kúse-izze, the son of Kúse, but who is generally known in the district
under the name of Solímán Sildi. My companions, who were very anxious
not to neglect any great men of the country, had determined to pay this
chief a visit, in order to try to obtain a present from him. But the
eloquent Wádáwi and his companions did not appear to have succeeded with
these islanders; for they returned with rather dejected spirits from
their visit to the chief, who showed us not the slightest mark of
hospitality. But, from another quarter, I myself, at least, was well
treated; for the inhabitants of a small island in the river brought me a
plentiful supper in the evening, consisting of prepared millet, a couple
of fowls, and some milk.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, July 26th.]
Traversing the swampy ground, after a march of half a mile we reached
again the direct path, keeping at some distance from the bank of the
river, which, although divided into several branches, exhibited a
charming spectacle in the rising sun. Cultivated ground and wilderness
alternated, and the monkey-bread tree appeared in great abundance; but
further on the duwé and kenya began to prevail; the islands in the river
also, as Nasíle and Ler, being richly clad with vegetation.
However, the district did not seem to be very populous, and the only
village which we passed on the main was Shére, surrounded by a stockade,
where we endeavoured, in vain, to obtain a little milk. We left, at a
distance of several miles to the west, the town of Larba, which, as I
have mentioned on my outward journey, is inhabited by a warlike set of
people greatly feared by their neighbours; but at present we heard that
the ruler of that town, of the name of Bíto, had lately returned from
Say, to whose governor, Ábú Bakr, he was said to have made his
submission; although it is probable that his only intention had been to
keep free that side, in order to be undisturbed in his proceedings
against the chief of the Toróde, or Tórobe.
Altogether the region presented a very interesting feature when, close
behind the village of Gárbegurú, we reached the river Sírba, with which,
in its upper course, we had first made acquaintance at Bóse-bángo, but
which here had a very different character, rushing along, in a knee-like
bend, from south-west to north-east, over a bed of rocks from sixty to
seventy yards across, and leaving the impression that at the time when
it is full of water it is scarcely passable. But at present we found no
difficulty in crossing it, the water being only a foot deep.
Nevertheless, the Sírba is of great importance in these regions, and we
can well understand how Bello could call it the ʿAlí Bábá of the small
rivers. Ascending then the opposite bank of this stream, we obtained a
view of a hilly chain ahead of us, but the country which we had to
traverse was at present desolate, although in former times the
cornfields of the important island-town Koirwa spread out here. However,
we had a long delay, caused by another of our camels being knocked up,
so that we were obliged to leave it behind; an unfortunate circumstance,
which afforded a fresh proof of the uselessness of the camels of the
desert tract of Ázawád for a journey along the banks of the river.
The country improved greatly after we had crossed a small hilly chain
which approached on the right, but it did not exhibit any traces of
cultivation, the inhabitants having taken refuge on the other side of
the river. We also passed here a pretty little rivulet of middle size,
girt by fine trees, and encamped close beyond the ruins of a village
called Namáro, opposite the village of Kuttukóle, situated on an island
in the river. The place was extremely rich in herbage, but greatly
infested by ants, and, in consequence, full of ant-hills; but we only
passed here the hot hours of the day, in order to give our animals some
rest, and then set out again just as a thunderstorm was gathering in
Áussa on the opposite side of the river.
The sheet of water is here broad and open, forming an island, and does
not exhibit the least traces of rocks. The shore was richly clad with
vegetation, and a little further on seemed even to be frequented by a
good many people; but they did not inspire us with much confidence.
Meanwhile, the thunderstorm threatening to cross over from the other
side of the river and reach us, we hastened onward, and encamped on the
low and grassy shore, opposite a small village called Wántila, situated
on an island full of tall dúm-palms, which however, at present, was only
separated from the main by a narrow swampy creek. However, we had a
sleepless night, the district being greatly infested by the people of
Larba. The governor of this place, as we now learned, was then staying
in the town of Karma, which we had just passed, and from whence
proceeded a noise of warlike din and drumming which continued the whole
night.
At an early hour, therefore, the next morning we set out, keeping at a
short distance along the river, the ground presenting no signs of
cultivation, while the steep slope on the opposite bank almost assumed
the character of a mountain chain; the highest group being from 800 to
1000 feet in height, and called Bingáwi by our guide, while he gave to
the succeeding one the name of Wágata; the most distant part of the
chain he called Búbo. At the foot of this ridge lies the village of
Tagabáta, which we passed a little further on.
Enjoying the varied character of the scenery, we continued our march
rather slowly, an ass which my companions had bartered on the road
lagging behind, and causing us some delay, when we entered a dense
underwood of thorny trees which entirely hemmed in our view, while on
our right a hilly chain approached, called from a neighbouring village
Senudébu, exactly like the French settlement on the Falémé in the far
west.
Proceeding thus onward, we suddenly observed that the covert in front of
us was full of armed men. As soon as they became aware that we had
observed them, they advanced towards us with the most hostile
gesticulations, swinging their spears and fitting their arrows to their
bows, and we were just going to fire upon them, when we observed amongst
them my servant the Gatróni, whom a short time before I had sent to
fetch some water from the river. This fortunate circumstance, suddenly
arrested our hostile intentions and led to a peaceable understanding. We
were then informed, that obtaining a sight of us from a hill while we
were still at a distance, and seeing six armed horsemen, they had taken
us for a hostile host, and had armed themselves; and it was very
fortunate for my servant with whom they first met, as well as for
ourselves, that one of them understood a little Háusa, and was able to
make out from his description the nature of our undertaking. But for
this, we should perhaps have been overwhelmed by numbers. The first
troop consisted of upwards of 100 men, all armed with bow and spear, and
round black shields, many of them wearing a battle-axe besides; and
smaller detachments were posted at short intervals up to the very
outskirts of their village. They consisted of both Songhay and Fúlbe,
and the greater part wore nothing but leather aprons. They wanted us to
accompany them to their village, but we did not feel sufficient
confidence in them to do so, and were glad when we got rid of them. On
this occasion I had another proof of the warlike character of my Arab
companion ʿAlí el Ágeren, who, as long as there was any danger, kept at
a respectful distance behind the camels, but, as soon as he saw that all
was over, he rushed out on his little pony in the most furious manner,
and threatened to put to death the whole body of men, so that I had
great difficulty in appeasing him. Probably, if we had had a serious
encounter, he would have turned his horse’s head, and I should never
have seen him again.
When we continued our march, we were gratified to see a wide extent of
ground covered with fine cotton plantations; on our left, where the
river again approached, much kharrwa, or berkínde, appeared. Further on,
fields of millet succeeded to the cotton plantations, and the
cultivation now continued without interruption, extending to the slope
of the hills, while, on the other side of the river, five villages
appeared at short intervals. We then entered upon hilly sandy ground,
but even this less favoured tract was covered with fine crops. I had
made it a rule, owing to the weakness of my camels, which required a
good feed, always to encamp at some distance from a larger place, and we
therefore chose our camping-ground about two miles on this side of the
town of Bírni, amongst monkey-bread trees and hájilíj, at a short
distance from a swampy creek of the river. Our encampment, however,
became unpleasant in the extreme, as we had to sustain here a very heavy
thunderstorm, accompanied by violent rain.
All the inhabitants of this district are Fúlbe, or Songhay speaking the
language of the Fúlbe, the conquering tribe of the latter beginning to
prevail here almost exclusively. All of them wear indigo-dyed shirts. We
also met here an old man, originally belonging to the tribe of the
Událen, a section of Imghád, or degraded Tawárek, but at present in the
service of a Púllo, who, assisted by his slaves, was just getting his
harvest into the town of Bírni, where he invited us to follow him on the
approach of night.
[Sidenote: Friday, July 28th.]
Having lost the greater part of the morning in order to dry ourselves
and our animals, we continued our march straight upon a kind of defile,
which seemed almost to hem in the passage along the river. The bank here
exhibits a peculiar feature, and the locality would be of the highest
importance, if the state of the country was in any way settled, for the
hilly chain on the right closely joins a group of rocky eminences which
nearly approaches the river, and opening towards it in the shape of a
horse-shoe, leaves only a very narrow passage between the south-easterly
corner of this semicircle of the hills, and a detached cone rising close
over the brink of the river, the latter being likewise full of rocks. On
the slope of the amphitheatre, called Sáre-góru, about half-way up the
height, lies the village or town of Bírni[45], presenting a very
picturesque spectacle, notwithstanding the frail character of the
dwellings.
Even beyond this passage, only a small border is left between the slope
of the hills and the river, especially behind the little village of
Kollónte, which is separated by a small ravine into two distinct groups,
and very pleasantly situated in a fine recess of the hills; at the same
time, busy scenes of domestic life attracted our attention. Here the
shore formed a bend, and the river glided along in a slow, majestic, and
undivided stream, but a little further on formed two islands, and, on
the main, we observed again that cotton was cultivated. Traversing then
a swampy plain, covered with several large farms belonging to people of
the Kortére, we reached a small detached chain on our right, called
Kirogáji, distinguished by three separate cones. Cultivation here is
carried on to a great extent, and the number of horses scattered over
the plain, afforded a tolerable proof of the wealth of the inhabitants,
and we passed the residence of a rich farmer, called Úro-Módibo, “úro”
being the Púllo term for a farm, and “módibo” the title of a learned
gentleman. At the village of Sága also, which, a little more than two
miles further on, we left on our right, beyond swampy meadow-grounds,
numbers of horses, and extensive cotton plantations attracted our
attention.
Three miles beyond Sága, we encamped near a small rivulet lined with
luxuriant trees, of the species called gamji, or ganki, at the foot of
the hills, the slope of which was covered with the richest crop of
millet, and crowned with two villages inhabited by Fúlbe of the tribe of
the Bitinkóbe, the river forming a rich and populous island called Bé-
gúngu. This place is the residence of a sort of emír of the name of
Báte, to whom my companions paid a visit, and obtained from him a supper
and a small viaticum.
[Sidenote: Saturday, July 29th.]
We made a very interesting day’s march. The hills, which are here
crowned with the various hamlets, form a bend closely approaching the
river, and the path wound along the slope, which was intersected by
several ravines full of rocks and trees, and afforded a beautiful view
over the stream. Descending from this slope we kept along the bank,
richly adorned with kenya or nelbi trees, the river spreading out in one
unbroken sheet, interrupted only by a few isolated masses of rock. We
here crossed a broad channel or dry watercourse starting forth from the
hilly chain, and called Górul-tilkólil, or Góru-kére. This watercourse
my guide, probably erroneously, indicated as a branch of the river
Sírba. It was succeeded by several others, one of which, distinguished
by its breadth, was called Górul-luggul. The bank of the river, at this
spot, was cultivated with great care, and we passed several farming
villages, one of which, called Lellóli, was the residence of a young
Púllo woman who had attached herself to our party the preceding day. She
was neatly dressed, and adorned with numerous strings of beads, and
mounted on a donkey.
Here cultivation, including a good deal of cotton, was carried on with
great care, and all the fields were neatly fenced. But this well-
cultivated ground was succeeded by a dense and luxuriant underwood, and,
in the river, an island of the name of ʿOitílli, or ʿOtílli, stretched
out to a great length. This probably is the ford originally called
Ghútil or Ghúdil. A little beyond, at the distance of about five miles,
the soft slope gave way to a small rocky ridge, through which a little
rivulet or brook had forced itself a passage, forming a very picturesque
kind of rocky gate, which, when the stream is full, must present an
interesting spectacle. But the water contained at the time a quantity of
ferruginous substances, and after taking a slight draught I remained in
a nauseous state all the day long. It affected one of my companions
still more unpleasantly. Here the steep rocky cliffs, consisting of
gneiss and mica slate, and interwoven with fine green bushes, closely
approached the river, which, in a fine open sheet, was gliding gently
along at the rate of about three miles an hour, and we kept close to the
margin of the stream, which, during the highest state of the inundation,
is scarcely broad enough to afford any passage. The cliffs, with their
beautifully stratified front, were so close that even at present only a
border a few feet in width was left, and this narrow strip was
beautifully adorned with dunku trees, the dark green foliage of which
formed a beautiful contrast with the steep white cliffs behind them. The
leaves are used by the natives for making a kind of sauce and for
seasoning their food, like those of the monkey-bread tree. Further on,
underwood of arbutus succeeded. The rocky ledge was interrupted, for a
short time exhibiting the aspect of a crumbled wall, but further on
again assumed the shape of precipitous cliffs, although less regularly
stratified than in its north-westerly part.
This steep range of cliffs is called by the natives, “Yúri.” Just where
it began to fall off and to become smoother, we were obliged to leave
the margin of the beautiful stream, which, near the bank, apparently
descended to a great depth, in order to ascend the higher ground; for
here the land juts out into the river in the form of a broad promontory,
the whole slope being covered with fine crops, which were just
approaching to ripeness. Thus we reached the farming village, or rúmde,
belonging to Fíttia Imám, or, as the name is generally pronounced, Mam
Fítti, a wealthy Púllo, who possesses also a farm in the plain at the
foot of the promontory close to the river. Here we encamped on the
south-east side of the village, where the ground afforded good pasture
for the camels.
I had been reposing awhile in the shade of a small kórna, when my people
informed me that they had discovered, on the slope of the hills, a
spring of living water, and I was easily induced, by the novelty of the
phenomenon in this region, to accompany them to the spot.
The whole slope is about 500 feet high, and the view from this point
across the river is extensive, but towards the south-east it is
obstructed by the hills rising in that direction to a greater elevation.
This culminating point of the ridge we ascended the next morning, when
we found that the highest level expanded to an open plain, well clad
with bush and grass and a rich supply of corn, although the crops did
not exhibit here the same luxuriant growth as on the slope of the hills.
Proceeding then for a mile along this level, we reached a small village,
in the courtyards of which, besides sesamum, a little mekka, as it is
here called, or ghafúli-másr, was cultivated. Here I, together with my
horsemen, started in advance of my train, in order to prepare our
quarters in the town of Say, as we had a good day’s march before us. The
country here became adorned with gonda bush, of which we had entirely
lost sight during our whole journey along the upper course of the Niger.
Having passed the larger village Dógo, where with some difficulty we
obtained a drop of milk, and having traversed a richly cultivated
district, we descended into the valley of Say, along the rugged cliffs
which bounded it on the west. But the greater part of the valley was
covered with water to such a degree that we became entangled every
moment in a swamp, and therefore preferred again ascending the cliffs
and keeping along the higher border. In this northerly part the rocky
slope attained in general a height of 150 feet, but gradually began to
decrease in elevation. About half an hour before noon we changed our
direction, and made across the swampy bottom of the valley, traversing
two more considerable sheets of water, the first of three, and the
second of two and a half feet in depth.
Thus we approached the town of Say, which was scarcely visible owing to
the exuberant vegetation which surrounded its wall on every side, and
which exhibited a most remarkable contrast to that dryness and monotony,
which characterized the place on my former visit. The town itself was at
present intersected by a broad sheet of water, which seemed almost to
separate it into two distinct quarters. I at length reached the house of
the governor, where I, as well as my horse, were cheerfully recognized
as old acquaintances. I was quartered in the same little hut in which I
had resided more than a year previously; but a considerable change had
been made in its arrangement. The comfortable little sleeping place of
matting had been restored, and was very acceptable in the rainy season,
more especially as it did not entirely preclude a current of air, while
it enabled me to put away all my small treasures in security.
[Footnote 43: Among my companions, the Hartáni Máleki, who had visited
the countries of Mósi and Bámbara, possessed some interesting
information concerning unknown, or little known, districts of these
regions; but unfortunately he had something very uncouth in his manner,
which prevented my learning from him all that would have been possible
under other circumstances. This day I wrote down, from his information,
the name of the pagan tribe of the Nenmer, who are settled between the
Tombo and Bámbara; besides that of the Norma, who are chiefly settled in
two places, one of which is called Púra.]
[Footnote 44: They informed us, that Kúlman was six hours’ distance from
here.]
[Footnote 45: There is no doubt that this was formerly a place of
considerable importance, and commanded the whole of the surrounding
district, as the masters of this defile had at the same time in their
hands the whole intercourse along the shore. In this respect the name
Bírni is not less remarkable than that of Sáre-góru, both “bírni,” as
well as “sáre,” being the names given to cities, or large walled places,
in various Negro languages. Sáre-góru means the rivulet or channel
(góru) of the city (sáre).]