invigorating both body and mind. The old chief, who had never before
visited our encampment, now came out to pay us his compliments, assuring
me once more, that “my safety rested upon his head.” But his heart was
so gladdened at witnessing our efforts to befriend the other great men
of his country, that his habitual niggardliness was overcome, and with
graceful hospitality he resigned one of his bullocks to our party.
The little caravan I was to accompany consisted of six camels, five and
thirty asses, and two bullocks, one of which was allotted to me, till my
protector Hámma should be able to hire a camel for me. But although well
accustomed to ride on horseback as well as on a camel, I had never yet
in my life tried to sit astride on the broad back of a bullock; and the
affair was the more difficult as there was no saddle, nor anything to
sit upon, except parcels of luggage not very tightly fastened to the
animal’s back, and swinging from one side to the other.
After the first bullock had been rejected, as quite unfit, in its wild,
intractable mood, to carry me, or indeed anything else, and when it had
been allowed to return to the herd, the second was at length secured,
the luggage fastened somehow on his back, and I was bid to mount. I must
truly confess that I should have been better pleased with a horse, or
even an ass; but still, hoping to manage matters, I took my seat, and,
bidding my fellow-travellers farewell, followed my black companions up
the broad valley by which we had come from the north. But we soon left
it and ascended the rocky ground, getting an interesting view of the
broad and massive Mount Eghellál before us.
Having at first thought my seat rather too insecure for making
observations, I grew by degrees a little more confident, and, taking out
my compass, noted the direction of the road, when suddenly the baggage
threatened to fall over to the right, whereupon I threw the whole weight
of my body to the left, in order to keep the balance; but I unluckily
overdid it, and so all at once down I came, with the whole baggage. The
ground was rocky; and I should inevitably have been hurt not a little,
if I had not fallen upon the muzzle of my musket, which I was carrying
on my shoulder, and which being very strong, sustained the shock, and
kept my head from the ground. Even my compass, which I had open in my
left hand, most fortunately escaped uninjured; and I felt extremely glad
that I had fallen so adroitly, but vowed never again to mount a bullock.
I preferred marching on foot till we reached the valley Eghellúwa, where
plenty of water is found in several wells. Here we halted a moment, and
I mounted behind Hámma, on the lean back of his camel, holding on by his
saddle; but I could not much enjoy my seat, as I was greatly annoyed by
his gun sticking out on the right, and at every moment menacing my face.
I was therefore much pleased when we reached the little village of
Tigger-éresa lying on the border of a broad valley well clothed with
talha-trees, and a little further on encamped in a pleasant recess
formed by projecting masses of granite blocks; for here I was told we
should surely find camels, and in fact Hámma hired two for me, for four
mithkáls each, to go to and return from Ágades. Here we also changed our
companions, the very intelligent Mohammed, a son of one of Ánnur’s
sisters, returning to Tintéllust, while the turbulent Mohammed (I called
him by no other name than Mohammed bábo hánkali), our friend from Afís,
came to attend us, and with him Hámmeda, a cheerful and amiable old man,
who was a fair specimen of the improvement derivable from the mixture of
different blood and of different national qualities; for while he
possessed all the cheerfulness and vivacity of the Góber nation, his
demeanour was nevertheless moderated by the soberness and gravity
peculiar to the Berber race, and though, while always busy, he was not
effectively industrious, yet his character approached very closely to
the European standard.
He was by trade a blacksmith, a more comprehensive profession in these
countries than in Europe, although in general these famous blacksmiths
have neither iron nor tools to work with. All over the Tawárek country
the “énhad” (smith) is much respected, and the confraternity is most
numerous. An “énhad” is generally the prime minister of every little
chief. The Arabs in Timbúktu call these blacksmiths “mʿallem,” which may
give an idea of their high rank and respected character. Then there is
also the “mʿallema,” the constant female companion of the chief’s wife,
expert above all in beautiful leather works.
In order to avoid, as much as possible, attracting the attention of the
natives, I had taken no tent with me, and sheltered myself at night
under the projecting roof of the granite blocks, my Kél-owí friends
sleeping around me.
[Sidenote: Saturday, October 5th.]
Hámma was so good as to give up to me his fine tall méheri, while he
placed his simple little saddle or “kíri” on the back of the young and
ill-trained camel hired here, a proceeding which in the course of our
journey almost cost him his ribs. In truth I had no saddle; yet my seat
was arranged comfortably by placing first two leathern bags filled with
soft articles across the back of the camel, and then fastening two
others over them lengthwise, and spreading my carpet over all. Even for
carrying their salt, the Kél-owí very rarely employ saddles, or if they
do, only of the lightest description, made of straw, which have nothing
in common with the heavy and hot “hawiya” of the Arabs.
[Illustration]
The country through which we travelled was a picturesque wilderness,
with rocky ground intersected at every moment by winding valleys and dry
watercourses richly overgrown with grasses and mimosas, while majestic
mountains and detached peaks towered over the landscape, the most
interesting object during the whole day being Mount Cheréka, with its
curious double peak, as it appeared from various sides, first looking as
if it were a single peak, only bifurcated at the top, then after a while
showing two peaks separated almost to the very base and rising in
picturesque forms nearly to the same elevation. Unfortunately our road
did not lead us near it, although I was as anxious to explore this
singular mountain as to visit the town of Ásodi, which some years ago
attracted attention in Europe. We had sent a present to Astáfidet, the
chief of the Kél-owí residing here, and probably I should have been well
received; but Hámma would not hear of our going there now, so we left
the town at no great distance to the right, and I must content myself
with here inserting the information obtained from other people who had
been there repeatedly.
[Illustration]
Ásodi[137], lying at no great distance from the foot of Mount Cheréka,
which forms the most characteristic feature of the surrounding
landscape, was once an important place, and a great resort for
merchants, though, as it is not mentioned by any Arabic writer, not even
by Leo, it would seem to be of much later origin than Ágades. Above a
thousand houses built of clay and stone lie at present in ruins, while
only about eighty are still inhabited; this would testify that it was
once a comparatively considerable place, with from eight to ten thousand
inhabitants. Such an estimate of its magnitude is confirmed by the fact
that there were seven tamizgídas, or mosques, in the town, the largest
of which was ornamented with columns, the “mamber” alone being decorated
with three, while the naves were covered in partly with a double roof
made of the stems of the dúm-tree, and partly with cupolas.
The town, however, seems never to have been inclosed with a wall, and in
this respect, as well as in its size, was always inferior to Ágades. At
present, although the population is scattered about, the market of Ásodi
is still well provided with provisions, and even with the more common
merchandise. The house of the amanókal of the Kél-owí is said to stand
on a little eminence in the western part of the town, surrounded by
about twenty cottages. There is no well inside, all the water being
fetched from a well which lies in a valley stretching from north to
south.
Conversing with my companions about this place, which we left at a short
distance to our right, and having before us the interesting picture of
the mountain-range of Búnday, with its neighbouring heights, forming one
continuous group with Mount Eghellál, we reached the fine valley
Chizólen, and rested in it during the hottest hours of the day under a
beautiful talha-tree, while the various beasts composing our little
caravan found a rich pasturage all around.
[Illustration]
Having taken here a sufficient supply of very good water from hollows
scooped in the sand, we continued our march over rocky ground thickly
covered with herbage, and surmounted on our right by the angular
outlines and isolated sugar-loafs of a craggy ridge, while on our left
rose the broad majestic form of Mount Eghellál. As evening came on I was
greatly cheered at the sight of a herd of well-fed cattle returning from
their pasture-grounds to their night-quarters near the village of
Eghellál, which lies at the foot of the mountain so named. They were
fine sturdy bullocks of moderate size, all with the hump, and of glossy
dark-brown colour.
In the distance, as the Eghellál began to retire, there appeared behind
it in faint outlines Mount Bághzen, which of late years has become so
famous in Europe, and had filled my imagination with lofty crests and
other features of romantic scenery. But how disappointed was I when,
instead of all this, I saw it stretching along in one almost unbroken
line! I soon turned my eyes from it to Mount Eghellál, which now
disclosed to us a deep chasm or crevice (the channel of powerful floods)
separating a broad cone, and apparently dividing the whole mountain-mass
into two distinct groups.
[Illustration]
At six o’clock in the evening we encamped in the shallow valley of
Eghellál at some distance from the well, and were greatly delighted at
being soon joined by Háj ʿAbdúwa, the son of Fátima (Ánnur’s eldest
sister), and the chief’s presumptive heir, a man of about fifty years of
age, and of intelligent and agreeable character. I treated him with a
cup or two of coffee well sweetened, and conversed with him awhile about
the difference between Egypt, which he had visited on his pilgrimage,
and his own country. He was well aware of the immense superiority even
of that state of society; but on the other hand he had not failed to
observe the misery connected with great density of population, and he
told me, with a certain degree of pride, that there were few people in
Aïr so miserable as a large class of the inhabitants of Cairo. Being
attacked by severe fever, he returned the next morning to his village
Táfidet, but afterwards accompanied the chief Astáfidet on his
expedition to Ágades, where I saw him again. I met him also in the
course of my travels twice in Kúkawa, whither he alone of all his tribe
used to go in order to maintain friendly relations with that court,
which was too often disturbed by the predatory habits of roving Kél-owí.
[Sidenote: Sunday, October 6th.]
Starting early, we soon reached a more open country, which to the eye
seemed to lean towards Mount Bághzen; but this was only an illusion, as
appeared clearly from the direction of the dry water-courses, which all
ran from E. to W.S.W. On our right we had now Mount Ágata, which has
given its name to the village mentioned above as lying at its foot. Here
the fertility of the soil seemed greatly increased, the herbage becoming
more fresh and abundant, while numerous talhas and abísgas adorned the
country. Near the foot of the extensive mountain-group of Bághzen, and
close to another mountain called Ajúri, there are even some very
favoured spots,—especially a valley called Chímmia, ornamented with a
fine date-grove, which produces fruit of excellent quality. As we
entered the meandering windings of a broad watercourse, we obtained an
interesting view of Mount Belásega. The plain now contracted, and, on
entering a narrow defile of the ridges, we had to cross a small pass,
from the top of which a most charming prospect met our eyes.
[Illustration]
A grand and beautifully-shaped mountain rose on our right, leaving,
between its base and the craggy heights, the offshoots of which we were
crossing, a broad valley running almost east and west, while at the
eastern foot of the mountain a narrow but richly-adorned valley wound
along through the lower rocky ground. This was Mount Abíla, or Bíla,
which is at once one of the most picturesque objects in the country of
Aïr, and seems to bear an interesting testimony to a connection with
that great family of mankind which we call the Semitic; for the name of
this mountain, or rather of the moist and “green vale” at its foot
(throughout the desert, even in its most favoured parts, it is the
valley which generally gives its name to the mountain), is probably the
same as that of the well-known spot in Syria, from which the province of
Abilene has been named.[138]
[Illustration]
A little beyond the first dry watercourse, where water was to be scooped
out a few feet under the surface of the ground, we rested for the heat
of the day; but the vegetation around was far from being so rich here as
in the valley Tíggeda, at the eastern foot of the picturesque mountain,
where, after a short march in the afternoon, we encamped for the night.
This was the finest valley I had yet seen in the country. The broad
sandy bed of the torrent, at present dry, was bordered with the most
beautiful fresh grass, forming a fine turf, shaded by the richest and
densest foliage of several kinds of mimosa, the tabórak or _Balanites_,
the tághmart, the abísga, and tunfáfia[139], while over all this mass of
verdure towered the beautiful peaks which on this side start forth from
the massive mountain, the whole tinged with the varied tints of the
setting sun. This delicious spectacle filled my heart with delight; and
having sat down a little while quietly to enjoy it, I made a sketch of
the beautiful forms of the mountain-peaks.
[Illustration]
Just before encamping we had passed a small chapel in ruins surrounded
by a cemetery. At that time I thought this valley identical with the
Tekádda (as the name is generally spelt) mentioned by Ebn Khaldún and by
Ebn Batúta[140] as an independent little Berber state between Gógo and
Káhir, lying on the road of the pilgrims; but I found afterwards that
there is another place which has better claims to this identification.
[Sidenote: Monday, October 7th.]
We began a most interesting day’s march, winding first along the valley
Tíggeda (which now in the cool of the morning was enlivened by numerous
flocks of wild pigeons), and then over a short tract of rocky ground
entering the still more picturesque “érazar-n-Ásada,” on the west only
lined by low rocky ridges, but bordered towards the east by the steep
massive forms of the Dógem. Here, indeed, a really tropical profusion of
vegetation covered the whole bottom of the valley, and scarcely left a
narrow low passage for the camels, the rider being obliged to stoop
every moment to avoid being swept off his seat. The principal tree here
is the dúm-tree, or _Cucifera Thebaïca_, which I had not seen since
Selúfiet; but here it was in the wild picturesque state into which it
soon relapses if left to nature. There was, besides, a great variety of
the acacia tribe all growing most luxuriantly, and interwoven with
creepers, which united the whole mass of vegetation into one thick
canopy. I regret that there was no leisure for making a sketch, as this
valley was far more picturesque even than Aúderas, of which I have been
able to give the reader a slight outline.
In this interesting valley we met two droll and jovial-looking
musicians, clad in a short and narrow blue shirt well-fastened round
their loins, and a small straw hat. Each of them carried a large drum,
or tímbali, with which they had been cheering the spirits of a wedding-
party, and were now proceeding to some other place on a similar errand.
We then met a large slave-caravan, consisting of about forty camels and
sixty slaves, winding along the narrow path, hemmed in by the rank
vegetation, and looking rather merry than sad,—the poor blacks gladdened
doubtless by the picturesque landscape, and keeping up a lively song in
their native melody. In the train of this caravan, and probably
interested in its lawless merchandise, went Snúsi and Awed el Khér, two
of the camel-drivers with whom we had come from Múrzuk, and who probably
had laid out the money gained from the English Mission in the very
article of trade which it is the desire of the English Government to
prohibit. This is a sinister result of well-meant commercial impulses,
which will probably subsist as long as the slave-trade itself exists on
the north coast of Africa.[141]
On emerging from the thick forest, we obtained the first sight of the
majestic cone of the Dógem, while a very narrow ravine or cleft in the
steep cliffs on our left led to the village Ásada. We then began to
ascend, sometimes along narrow ravines, at others on sloping rocky
ground, all covered with herbage up to the summits of the lower
mountains. In this way we reached the highest point of the pass, about
2500 feet, having the broad cone of the Dógem on our left, which I then
thought to be the most elevated point in Aïr, though, as I mentioned
above, the old chief Ánnur maintained that the Tímge is higher. This
conspicuous mountain most probably consists of basalt; and, from what I
shall observe further on, it may be inferred that the whole group of the
Bághzen does so too.
From this pass we descended into the pebbly plain of Erárar-n-Déndemu,
thickly overgrown with small talha-trees, and showing along the path
numerous foot-prints of the lion, which is extremely common in these
highland wildernesses, which, while affording sufficient vegetation and
water for a variety of animals, are but thinly inhabited, and everywhere
offer a safe retreat. However, from what I saw of him, he is not a very
ferocious animal here.
The weather meanwhile had become sultry; and when, after having left the
plain, we were winding through narrow glens, the storm, the last of the
rainy season, broke out; and through the mismanagement of the slaves,
not only our persons, but all our things were soaked with the rain. Our
march became rather cheerless, everything being wet, and the whole
ground covered with water, which along the watercourses formed powerful
torrents. At length we entered the gloomy, rugged valley of Tághist,
covered with basaltic stones, mostly of the size of a child’s head, and
bordered by sorry-looking rocky hills.
Tághist is remarkable as the place of prayer founded by the man who
introduced Islám into Central Negroland[142], and thus gave the first
impulse to that continual struggle which, always extending further and
further, seems destined to overpower the nations at the very equator, if
Christianity does not presently step in to dispute the ground with it.
This man was the celebrated Mohammed ben ʿAbd el Kerím ben Maghíli, a
native of Búda in Tawát[143], and a contemporary and intimate friend of
the Sheikh e’ Soyúti[144], that living encyclopædia and keystone, if I
may be allowed the expression, of Mohammedan learning.
Living in the time when the great Sónghay empire began to decline from
that pitch of power which it had reached under the energetic sway of
Sónni ʿAli and Mohammed el Háj Áskia, and stung by the injustice of
Áskia Ismʿaíl, who refused to punish the murderers of his son, he turned
his eyes on the country where successful resistance had first been made
against the all-absorbing power of the Asáki, and which, fresh and
youthful as it was, promised a new splendour, if enlightened by the
influence of a purer religion. Instigated by such motives, partly merely
personal, partly of a more elevated character, Mohammed ben ʿAbd el
Kerím turned his steps towards Kátsena, where we shall find him again;
but on his way thither he founded in this spot a place of prayer, to
remain a monument to the traveller of the path which the religion of the
One God took from the far east to the country of the blacks.
The “msíd,” or “mesálla,” at present is only marked by stones laid out
in a regular way, and inclosing a space from sixty to seventy feet long
and fifteen broad, with a small mehhráb, which is adorned (accidentally
or intentionally, I cannot say) by a young talha-tree. This is the
venerated and far-famed “Makám e’ Sheikh ben ʿAbd el Kerím,” where the
traveller coming from the north never omits to say his prayers; others
call it Msíd Sídi Baghdádi, the name Baghdádi being often given by the
blacks to the Sheikh, who had long resided in the east.
At length we descended from the rugged ground of Tághist into the
commencement of the celebrated Valley of Aúderas, the fame of which
penetrated to Europe many years ago. Here we encamped, wet as we were,
on the slope of the rocky ground, in order to guard against the humidity
of the valley. Opposite to us, towards the south, on the top of a hill,
lay the little village Aërwen wan Tídrak. Another village, called
Ífarghén, is situated higher up the valley on the road from Aúderas to
Damerghú. On our return I saw in this valley a barbarous mode of
tillage, three slaves being yoked to a sort of plough, and driven like
oxen by their master. This is probably the most southern place in
Central Africa where the plough is used; for all over Sudán the hoe or
fertaña is the only instrument used for preparing the ground.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, October 8th.]
While the weather was clear and fine, the valley, bordered on both sides
by steep precipices, and adorned with a rich grove of dúm-trees, and
bush and herbage in great variety, displayed its mingled beauties,
chiefly about the well, where, on our return-journey, I made the
accompanying sketch. This valley, as well as those succeeding it, is
able to produce not only millet, but even wheat, wine, and dates, with
almost every species of vegetable; and there are said to be fifty garden
fields (gónaki) near the village of Ífarghén.
But too soon we left this charming strip of cultivation, and ascended
the rocky ground on our right, above which again rose several detached
hills, one of which had so interesting and well-marked a shape that I
sketched its outlines. The road which we followed is not the common one.
The latter, after crossing very rugged ground for about fifteen miles,
keeps along the fine deep valley Télwa for about ten miles, and then
ascending for about an hour, reaches Ágades in three hours more. This
latter road passes by Tímelén, where at times a considerable market is
said to be held.
[Illustration]
Having descended again, we found the ground in the plain covered with a
thin crust of natron, and further on met people busy in collecting it;
but it is not of very good quality, nor at all comparable to that of
Múnio or to that of the shores of Lake Tsád. There are several places on
the border between the desert and the fertile districts of Negroland,
which produce this mineral, which forms a most important article of
commerce in middle Sudán. Another well-known natron-district is in
Zabérma; but in Western Sudán natron is almost unknown, and it is only
very rarely that a small sample of it can be got in Timbúktu. Many of
the Kél-owí have learnt (most probably from the Tedá or Tébu) the
disgusting custom of chewing tobacco intermixed with natron, while only
very few of them smoke.