at present; but as almost the whole supply of provision is imported, as
well as all the clothing-material, it is evident that the population
could not be so numerous as it is, were it not sustained by the salt
trade of Bilma, which furnishes the people with the means of bartering
advantageously with Háusa. As far as I was able to learn from personal
information, it would seem that this trade did not take the road by way
of Ásben till about a century ago, consequently not before the country
was occupied by the Kél-owí. It is natural to suppose that so long as
the Tébu, or rather Tedá, retained political strength, they would not
allow strangers to reap the whole advantage of such natural wealth.[134]
At present the whole authority of Ánnur as well as Lúsu seems to be
based upon this trade, of which they are the steady protectors, while
many of their nation deem this trade rather a degrading occupation, and
incline much more to a roving life.
I now return to our encampment near Tintéllust, reserving a brief
account of the general features of the country till the moment when we
are about to leave it.
[Footnote 108: Leo Africanus, Descrizione dell’ Africa, i. c. 6: “E
_Air_, diserto ancora esso, ma nomato dalla bontà dell’ aere.” This
derivation of the name is manifestly apocryphal. Comp. l. vi. cc. 55.
56.]
[Footnote 109: Ebn Batúta’s Travels, ed. Lee, p. 45. Compare Journal
Asiatique, 1843, p. 237.]
[Footnote 110: Leo, l. vi. c. 55. Ebn Batúta counts seventy days’ march
from Tekádda to Tawát, or rather Búda. Now we shall see that Tekádda is
situated three days south-west from Ágades, while, from what the
traveller says about the place where the road to Egypt separated from
that to Tawát, it is evident that he went by Asïu, or rather that the
place just mentioned was identical with Asïu. Asïu, then, forty days
from Tawát, was thirty days from Tekádda; Káher therefore, being distant
eighteen days from Asïu, was twelve days from Tekádda, and was somewhere
between the parallels of Selúfiet and Tintéllust, but rather, as we see
from the sterile character of the country through which he travelled,
and from the situation of Tekádda, in the more barren district to the
west. About Tekádda I shall have to speak further on.]
[Footnote 111: The Tawárek, as well the Kél-owi as all the other tribes,
constantly write [Symbols: ⵔⵢⴰ] (Aïr); and the reason why the Arabs
write اهير is simply to avoid the obscenity of أَيْرٌ (_veretrum_).]
[Footnote 112: Denham and Clapperton’s Travels, vol. ii. p. 162.]
[Footnote 113: I have spoken about the word “tin” before. I have strong
reason for supposing that the original name of the place was Ansamán.]
[Footnote 114: Ebn Batúta, Journal Asiatique, 1843, série iv. vol. i. p.
188.; Cooley, Negroland, p. 17.]
[Footnote 115: It seems to be the title of his kingdom, so that we may
translate it rather “the ruler of Kerker” or Gerger. See Cooley, p.
107., who first pointed out that Kerker was not a mere clerical error
for Kaúkaú. But what this learned gentleman says at p. 109. is based
upon wrong information, there being no such town as Birni-n-Gurgar in
Háusa. The real name of the place is Góga. It is also impossible that
the name Gérgeri can have anything to do with the pagan tribe Kerékeré.]
[Footnote 116: Ebn Batúta, p. 237.]
[Footnote 117: Leo, l. vi. c. 56.]
[Footnote 118: _Ibid._ i. c. 10., towards the end.]
[Footnote 119: Horneman’s Journal, 1802, p. 109. fl.]
[Footnote 120: That was also what Major Rennell concluded from the
traveller’s expression when he says, p. 181., “From recent conquest it
would seem,” &c. I think that the Kél-owí may have formerly borne
another name, and received this name only from a place where they were
settled. I would not refer to the Cillaba mentioned by Pliny, l. v. c.
5. The name Kél-owí is properly a plural form.]
[Footnote 121: Ábu ʿObeid Alla el Bekri el Kórtobi, Notices et Extraits,
vol. xii. p. 644.]
[Footnote 122: With regard to Melle see what Leo says, l. i. c. 10.
fin., “E quello (rè) che fù di Melli è dell’ origine del popolo di
Zanaga.”]
[Footnote 123: Ebn Batúta, p. 234., ed. Lee. He says, “And the sister’s
son always succeeds to property in preference to the son, a custom I
witnessed nowhere else except among the infidel Hindoos of Malabar.” But
the traveller forgot that he had soon to relate the same of the Gérgeri
dynasty (see above, p. 338.); or rather the learned man who was ordered
to publish his journal did not correct the expression, which, at the
time when Ebn Batúta made his memorandum of his stay in Waláta, may have
been quite true.]
[Footnote 124: This circumstance explains a curious fact in Mr. Koelle’s
Polyglotta Africana, a work of the greatest merit, but in which, on
account of the immense ground over which it extends, some errors must be
expected. One of the most unfortunate examples in this respect are his
specimens of a language called Kándín (xii. C.). Now the name Kándín is
quite inadmissible in ethnography, being a name given to the Imóshagh or
Tawárek only by the Kanúri people, to say nothing of the very odd
geographical blunder involved in the expression “Absen, a town of
Egades.” But the specimens of the language which Mr. Koelle gives under
this head are a curious mixture of Targíye, Háusa, and even some Kanúri
terms; and his informant, Abárshi (a very common name in Ásben), was
most probably a slave by origin, at least not a free man, even before he
was enslaved by the Kanúri. But these specimens are not uninteresting,
giving a fair idea of the state of things in the country, although any
respectable native would be ashamed to mix Háusa and Berber terms in
this way; and moreover the latter as given here are mostly corrupted
from the very beginning, for “one” is not díyen, but íyen, and the _d_
is only added in composition, as meráw d’íyen, meráw d’esín—“eleven,”
“twelve,” &c.]
[Footnote 125: _Im_, or _em_, in composition is almost identical with
_kél_, meaning “the people of,” “the inhabitants of.”]
[Footnote 126: This name clearly shows that the final consonant of the
name of the great town is not distinctly a ز (z), though the Arabs
generally write it so. In fact, as I shall have to state further on, it
was originally _sh_. From Ém-egédesen is formed Ém-egedesíye, “the
language of the people of Ágades.”]
[Footnote 127: Mehárebi—محَاربي—though not to be found in our
dictionaries, is a very common word with the Mohammedans all over
Central Africa, and is regularly formed from “hareb,” حرب, quite in the
same way as meháres, the common name given in Morocco to a guard or
escort, from “hares.” The emír Hámedu of Hamd-Alláhi did me the honour
to call me by this name, on account of the resistance I made to his
attempt to seize me and my property during my stay in Timbúktu; and I do
not doubt that the following passage in one of the angry and learned
letters which he wrote to my protector the sheikh El Bakáy, will have
some interest for such of my readers as understand Arabic:—
ولم نفطز بذلك محاربتك بل الذي حاربناه النصرانى الكافر الذي حارب الله
ورسوله وهو حرب ورثناه من الاباء والاجداد ادى هلم جرا وحضنا عليه ربّنا
ووعدنا فيه اجرا ودخرا
But his sacrilegious wishes were not fulfilled.]
[Footnote 128: It has been concluded (though erroneously, as the
following will show) from the circumstance of the joint salt-caravan of
the Itísan and Kél-gerés, in the letter of the sultan of Ágades, being
called only after the former tribe, that these two tribes were
identical. The Itísan, as “Benú Itísan,” are mentioned by Ebn Khaldún
among the clans of the Sanhája, vol. i. p. 195., Arab. t.; vol. ii. p.
3., trad. par le baron de Slane.]
[Footnote 129: These, in the form of Ajdaranín, are mentioned by Bello,
in his geographical introduction to his historical work (Clapperton’s
Travels, Appendix II. p. 160.), among the first Berber tribes who came
from Aújila and took Ahír (Aïr) from the Sudán inhabitants of Góber.]
[Footnote 130: This is the tribe of which Bello speaks (Clapperton’s
Travels, ii. p. 160.) when he says “they appointed a person of the
family of Ansatfen.” But his knowledge of the Tawárek was very
insufficient; and the chapter to which that passage belongs is full of
confusion.]
[Footnote 131: The tribe of the Tilkátine, appearing here among the
clans of the Kél-gerés, is of the highest historical interest; for there
can be no doubt of their being identical with the tribe of the Tel-káta
mentioned by Ebn Khaldún (vol. i. p. 195. Arab. t., vol. ii. p. 3. trad.
par le baron de Slane) as the most noble and predominant among all the
sections of the Sanhája.]
[Footnote 132: The form of this name seems to indicate the sub-Libyan
influence which this subdivision has undergone.]
[Footnote 133: The list of all the villages and towns of Aïr, given in
the note at the end of the first volume of Mr. Richardson’s Journal, is
in general, I think, exact; there are only two mistakes of
importance—with regard to the population of Talázeghrín, and that of
Áfasás (p. 341.), each of which places is stated to have 1000 male
inhabitants, while the whole population scarcely reaches that number. On
the other hand, the estimate of the population of Ágades at 2500 (p.
343.) is too low. Besides, some places are left out there, such as
Iséllef, the residence of Dídi’s wife, and some others. I have to regret
the loss of a paper which I sent home from Aïr, where a topographical
arrangement of the villages had been attempted.]
[Footnote 134: In the account of the expedition of the Bórnu king Edrís
Alawóma, of which I shall have to speak in the second volume, no mention
is made of this salt-trade of the Tébu; but from this silence no
conclusion can be drawn as to the non-existence of the salt-trade at
that time. On the contrary, we may conclude from the interesting account
of Edrísi (transl. Jaubert, vol. i. p. 117. f.) who certainly means to
speak of the salt-trade of the Tébu country, although he uses the term
“alum,” that this article formed a very important staple in remote
times.]
CHAP. XV.
RESIDENCE IN TINTÉLLUST.
We saw the old chief on the day following our arrival. He received us in
a straightforward and kindly manner, observing very simply that even if,
as Christians, we had come to his country stained with guilt, the many
dangers and difficulties we had gone through would have sufficed to wash
us clean, and that we had nothing now to fear but the climate and the
thieves. The presents which were spread out before him he received
graciously, but without saying a single word. Of hospitality he showed
no sign. All this was characteristic.
We soon received further explanations. Some days afterwards he sent us
the simple and unmistakable message, that if we wished to proceed to
Sudán at our own risk, we might go in company with the caravan, and he
would place no obstacle in our way; but if we wanted him to go with us
and to protect us, we ought to pay him a considerable sum. In stating
these plain terms, he made use of a very expressive simile, saying that
as the leffa (or snake) killed everything that she touched, so his word,
when it had once escaped his lips, had terminated the matter in
question—there was nothing more to be said. I do not think this such an
instance of shameful extortion as Mr. Richardson represents it,
considering how much we gave to others who did nothing for their pay,
and how much trouble we caused Ánnur. On the contrary, having observed
Ánnur’s dealings to the very last, and having arrived under his
protection safely at Kátsena, I must pronounce him a straightforward and
trustworthy man, who stated his terms plainly and dryly, but stuck to
them with scrupulosity; and as he did not treat us, neither did he ask
anything[135] from us, nor allow his people to do so. I shall never
forgive him for his niggardliness in not offering me so much as a drink
of fura or ghussub-water when I visited him, in the heat of the day, on
his little estate near Tasáwa; but I cannot withhold from him my esteem
both as a great politician in his curious little empire, and as a man
remarkable for singleness of word and purpose.
Having come into the country as hated intruders pursued by all classes
of people, we could not expect to be received by him otherwise than
coldly; but his manner changed entirely when I was about to set out for
Ágades, in order to obtain the goodwill of the sultan of the country. He
came to our encampment to see me off, and from that day forth did not
omit to visit us every day, and to maintain the most familiar
intercourse with us. So it was with all the people; and I formed so many
friendships with them, that the turbulent Mohammed, Ánnur’s cousin, used
often to point to them as a proof how impossible it was that he could
have been the instigator of the misdeeds perpetrated on the night
preceding our arrival in Tintéllust, when we were treated with violence,
and our luggage was rifled. Still we had, of course, many disagreeable
experiences to make before we became naturalized in this new country.
It was the rainy season; and the rain setting in almost daily, caused us
as much interest and delight (being a certain proof that we had reached
the new regions after which we had so long been hankering) as served to
counterbalance the trouble which it occasioned. Sometimes it fell very
heavily, and, coming on always with a dreadful storm, was very difficult
to be kept out from the tent, so that our things often got wet. The
heaviest rain we had was on the 9th of September, when an immense
torrent was formed, not only in the chief valley, but even in the small
ravine behind our encampment. Yet we liked the rain much better than the
sand-storm. In a few days nature all around assumed so fresh and
luxuriant a character, that so long as we were left in repose, we felt
cheered to the utmost, and enjoyed our pleasant encampment, which was
surrounded by masses of granite blocks, wide-spreading bushes of the
abísga, and large luxuriant talha-trees, in wild and most picturesque
confusion. It was very pleasant and interesting to observe, every day,
the rapid growth of the little fresh leaves and young offshoots, and the
spreading of the shady foliage.
Monkeys now and then descended into the little hollow beyond our tents
to obtain a draught of water; and numbers of jackals were heard every
night roving about us, while the trees swarmed with beautiful ring-doves
and hoopoes and other smaller birds. The climate of Aïr has been
celebrated from the time of Leo, on account “della bontà e temperanza
dell’ aere.” But unfortunately our little English suburb proved too
distant from the protecting arm of the old chief; and after the
unfortunate attack in the night of the 17th of September, which if made
with vigour would inevitably have ended in our destruction, we were
obliged to remove our encampment, and, crossing the broad valley, pitch
it in the plain near the village.
But the circumstances connected with this attack were so curious that I
must relate them, in a few words. The rain, which had wetted all our
things, and made us anxious about our instruments and arms, seemed to
abate; and Overweg and I decided the very day preceding the attack in
question, on cleaning our guns and pistols, which had been loaded for
some time; and having cleaned them, and wishing to dry them well, we did
not load them again immediately. In the afternoon we had a visit from
two well-dressed men mounted on mehára; they did not beg for anything,
but inspected the tents very attentively, making the remark that our
tent was as strong as a house, while Mr. Richardson’s was light and open
at the bottom.
The moon shed a splendid light over the interesting wilderness; and our
black servants being uncommonly cheerful and gay that night, music and
dancing was going on in the village, and they continued playing till a
very late hour, when they fell asleep. Going the round of our encampment
before I went to lie down, I observed at a little distance a strange
camel, or rather méheri, kneeling quietly down with its head towards our
tents. I called my colleagues, and expressed my suspicion that all was
not right; but our light-hearted and frivolous servant Mohammed calmed
my uneasiness by pretending that he had seen the camel there before,
though that was not true. Still I had some sad foreboding, and,
directing my attention unluckily to the wrong point, caused our sheep to
be tied close to our tent.
Being uneasy, I did not sleep soundly; and a little after two o’clock I
thought I heard a very strange noise, just as if a troop of people were
marching with a steady step round our tents, and muttering in a jarring
voice. Listening anxiously for a moment, I felt sure that there were
people near the tent, and was about to rush out; but again, on hearing
the sound of music proceeding from the village, I persuaded myself that
the noise came from thence, and lay down to slumber, when suddenly I
heard a louder noise, as if several men were rushing up the hill, and,
grasping a sword and calling aloud for our people, I jumped out of the
tent; but there was nobody to be seen. Going then round the hill to Mr.
Richardson’s tent, I met him coming out half-dressed, and begging me to
pursue the robbers, who had carried away some of his things. Some of his
boxes were dragged out of the tent, but not emptied: none of his
servants were to be seen except Sʿaid, all the rest having run away
without even giving an alarm; so that all of us might have been
murdered.
But immediately after this accident we received the distinct assurance
of protection both from the sultan of Ágades and from the great mʿallem
Azóri; and I began to plan my excursion to Ágades more definitely, and
entered into communication with the chief on this point. Meanwhile I
collected a great deal of information[136] about the country, partly
from a Tawáti of the name of ʿAbd el Káder (not the same who accompanied
us on the road from Ghát), and partly from some of the Tinýlkum, who,
having left us the day after our arrival in Tin-téllust, had dispersed
all over the country, some pasturing their camels in the most favoured
localities, others engaged in little trading speculations, and paying us
a visit every now and then. Small caravans came and went, and among them
one from Sudán, with its goods laden almost entirely on pack-oxen,—a
most cheerful sight, filling our hearts with the utmost delight, as we
were sure that we had now passed those dreary deserts where nothing but
the persevering and abstemious camel can enable man to maintain
communications.
At length, then, we were enabled to write to Government, and to our
friends in Europe, assuring them that we had now overcome, apparently,
most of the difficulties which appeared likely to oppose our progress,
and that we felt justified in believing that we had now fairly entered
upon the road which would lead directly to the attainment of the objects
of the expedition.
With regard to our provisions, Overweg and I were at first rather ill
off, while Mr. Richardson, although he had been obliged to supply food
on the road to troops both of friends and foes, had still a small
remnant of the considerable stores which he had laid in at Múrzuk. We
had been led to expect that we should find no difficulty in procuring
all necessaries, and even a few luxuries, in Ásben (and carriage was so
dear that we were obliged to rely upon these promises); but we were now
sadly disappointed. After a few days, however, the inhabitants being
informed that we were in want of provisions, and were ready to buy,
brought us small quantities of Guinea corn, butter—the botta (or box
made of rough hide, in the way common over almost the whole of Central
Africa) for two or two and a half mithkáls,—and even a little fresh
cheese; we were also able to buy two or three goats, and by sending
Ibrahím, who had now recovered from his guineaworm, to Ásodi, where
provisions are always stored up in small quantities, we obtained a
tolerable camel-load of durra or sorghum.
But I could not relish this grain at all, and as I was not able to
introduce any variety into my diet, I suffered much; hence it was
fortunate for me that I went to Ágades, where my food was more varied,
and my health consequently improved. I afterwards became accustomed to
the various preparations of sorghum and _Pennisetum_, particularly the
asída or túvo, and found that no other food is so well adapted for a hot
climate; but it requires a great deal of labour to prepare it well, and
this of course is a difficult matter for a European traveller, who has
no female slave or partner to look after his meals. Our food during our
stay in Ásben was so ill-prepared (being generally quite bitter, owing
to the husk not being perfectly separated from the grain) that no native
of the country would taste it.
Meanwhile my negotiation with the chief, with regard to my going to
Ágades, which I managed as silently and secretly as possible, went on
prosperously; and on the 30th of September I took my leave of him,
having with me on the occasion a present for himself, worth about eighty
riyáls, or eleven pounds sterling, and the presents intended for the
sultan of Ágades, in order that he might see what they were and express
his opinion upon them; and I was greatly pleased to find that he was
satisfied with both. He promised me perfect safety, although the
undertaking looked a little dangerous, and had a letter written to ʿAbd
el Káder (or, in the popular form, Kádiri—this was the name of the new
sultan), wherein he recommended me to him in the strongest terms, and
enumerated the presents I meant to offer to him.
But as soon as my intention transpired, all the people, uninvited as
well as invited, hastened to give me their best advice, and to dissuade
me from embarking in an undertaking which would certainly be my ruin.
Conspicuous among these motley counsellors was a son of Háj ʿAbdúwa, the
presumptive heir of Ánnur, who conjured me to abandon my design. These
people, indeed, succeeded in frightening Yusuf Mákni, Mr. Richardson’s
interpreter, whom the latter wished to send with me; but as for myself,
I knew what I was about, and had full confidence in the old chief’s
promise, and was rather glad to get rid of Mákni, whom I well knew to be
a clever, but no less malicious and intriguing person. With difficulty I
persuaded Mohammed, our Tunisian shushán, to accompany me; and I also
succeeded in hiring Amánkay, Mr. Richardson’s active black Búzu servant,
who, however, on this trip proved utterly useless, as we had no sooner
set out than he began to suffer from his old complaint of guineaworm,
and was the whole time too lame for service.
I then arranged with Hámma, Ánnur’s son-in-law, under whose especial
protection I was to undertake my journey, but whom I had to pay
separately. I gave him the value of eleven mithkals, or about one pound
sterling, for himself, and hired from him two camels, each for six
mithkáls. After various delays, which, however, enabled me to send off
two more of my journals, together with letters, to Múrzuk, by the hand
of a half-caste Kél-owí of the name of Báwa Amákita, our departure was
definitively fixed for the 4th of October.
[Footnote 135: The little trifles which we gave him occasionally are
scarcely worth mentioning.]
[Footnote 136: That part of my information which regarded the topography
of the country, and which I forwarded during our stay there, has
unfortunately been lost.]
CHAP. XVI.
JOURNEY TO ÁGADES.
[Sidenote: Friday, October 4th.]
At length the day arrived when I was to set out on my long-wished-for
excursion to Ágades. For although at that time I was not aware of the
whole extent of interest attaching to that place, it had nevertheless
been to me a point of the strongest attraction. For what can be more
interesting than a considerable town, said to have been once as large
as Tunis, situated in the midst of lawless tribes, on the border of
the desert and of the fertile tracts of an almost unknown continent,
established there from ancient times, and protected as a place of
rendezvous and commerce between nations of the most different
character, and having the most various wants. It is by mere accident
that this town has not attracted as much interest in Europe as her
sister town Timbúktu.