in the hope of starting the next day, when all of a sudden about noon
our old friend declared solemnly that he was unable to go with us at
present, that he himself was obliged to wait for the salt-caravan, while
his confidential slave Zinghína was now to go southwards. He said that,
if we chose, we might go on with the latter. He supposed, perhaps, that
none of us would dare to do so; but when I insisted upon it afterwards,
he as well as Zinghína declared that the attempt was too dangerous; and
it would have been absurd to insist on accompanying the slave. For the
moment such a disappointment was very trying. However, I afterwards
perceived that, though we had lost more than a month of the finest
season for travelling, we had thereby acquired all possible security for
safely attaining the object of our journey; for now we were obliged to
send off all our luggage with Zinghína in advance, and might fully
expect to travel with infinitely more ease and less trouble, when no
longer encumbered with things which, though of little value,
nevertheless attracted the cupidity of the people. At the time, however,
even this was not at all agreeable, as Overweg and I had to part with
almost all our things and to send them on to Kanó, to the care of a man
of whose character we knew nothing.
[Sidenote: Friday, November 8th.]
Nearly all the Arabs and many of the Kél-owí started; and it awakened
some feeling of regret to see them go and to be ourselves obliged to
stay behind. Our friend Músa, who had been the most faithful of our
Tinýlkum camel-drivers, who had visited us almost daily in our tent, and
from whom we had obtained so much valuable information[196], was the
last to take leave of us. But as soon as the caravan was out of sight, I
determined to make the best possible use of this involuntary leisure, by
sifting elaborately the varied information which I had been able to
collect in Ágades, and by sending a full report to Europe, in order to
engage the interest of the scientific public in our expedition, and to
justify Her Majesty’s Government in granting us new supplies, without
which, after our heavy losses, we should be obliged to return directly,
leaving the chief objects of the expedition unattained. Owing to this
resolution, our quiet life in Ásben was not, I hope, without its fruits.
Our encampment, too, became more cheerful and agreeable when, on the
following day, we transferred it to the korámma Ofáyet, a beautiful
little branch-wadi of the spacious valley Tin-téggana, issuing from a
defile (a “kógo-n-dútsi”) formed by the Búnday and a lower mount to the
south, along which led the path to Ásodi. It was most densely wooded
with talha-trees, and overgrown with tall bu-rékkeba and allwot, and was
thinned only very gradually, as immense branches and whole trees were
cut down daily to feed the fires during the night; for it was at times
extremely cold, and we felt most comfortable when in the evening we
stretched ourselves in front of our tents, round an enormous fire. The
tall herbage also was by degrees consumed, not only by the camels, but
by the construction of small conical huts; so that gradually a varied
and pleasant little village sprang up in this wild spot, which is
represented in the accompanying wood-cut. The time which we were obliged
to stay here would indeed have passed by most pleasantly but for the
trouble occasioned to Overweg and myself by our impudent and dissolute
Tunisian half-caste servant, who had become quite insupportable.
Unfortunately we did not find an opportunity of sending him back; and I
thought it best to take him with me to Kanó, where I was sure to get rid
of him. Our other servant Ibrahím, also, though much more prudent, was
not at all trustworthy, which was the more to be regretted as he had
travelled all over Háusa, and even as far as Gónja, and might have
proved of immense service. But fortunately I had another servant—a thin
youth of most unattractive appearance, but who nevertheless was the most
useful attendant I ever had; and though young he had roamed about a
great deal over the whole eastern half of the desert, and shared in many
adventures of the most serious kind. He possessed, too, a strong sense
of honour, and was perfectly to be relied upon. This was Mohammed el
Gatróni, a native of Gatrón, in the southern part of Fezzán, who, with a
short interruption (when I sent him to Múrzuk with the late Mr.
Richardson’s papers and effects), remained in my service till I returned
to Fezzán in 1855.
[Illustration]
The zeal with which I had commenced finishing my report was well
rewarded; for on the 14th the Ghadámsi merchant Abu Bakr el Wákhshi (an
old man whom I shall have occasion to mention repeatedly in the course
of my journey) came to Ánnur to complain of a robbery committed upon
part of his merchandise at Tasáwa. But for this circumstance he would
not have touched at this place, and his people, whom he was sending to
Ghadámes, would have travelled along the great road by Ásodi without our
knowing anything about them. Being assured by the trustworthy old man
that the parcel would reach Ghadámes in two months, I sent off the first
part of my report; but unfortunately it arrived at that place when Her
Majesty’s Agent, Mr. Charles Dickson, to whom I had addressed it, was
absent in Tripoli,—the consequence being that it lay there for several
months.
In the course of the 15th, while sitting quietly in my tent, I suddenly
heard my name, “ʿAbd el Kerím,” pronounced by a well-known voice, and
looking out, to my great astonishment saw the little sturdy figure of my
friend Hámma trotting along at a steady pace, his iron spear in his
hand. I thought he was gone to Bílma, as we had been told; but it
appeared that, having come up with the salt-caravan at the commencement
of the Hammáda, he only supplied them with more corn, and having
conferred with them, had come back to assist his old father-in-law in
the arduous task of keeping the turbulent tribes in some state of quiet.
The degree of secrecy with which everything is done in this wild country
is indeed remarkable, and no doubt contributes in a great measure to the
influence and power of the sagacious chief of Tintéllust.
Four days later came my other friend, the foolish Mohammed, who had
accompanied the expedition of the sultan of Ágades, and who was full of
interesting details of this little campaign. Neither Astáfidet, the
prince of the Kél-owí, nor ʿAbd el Káder, the sultan residing in Ágades,
actually took part in the attack or “súkkua,” but kept at a distance. On
asking my merry friend what was the result of the whole, and whether the
state of the country to the north was now settled, and the road secure,
he exclaimed, with a significant grimace, “Bábu dádi” (not very
pleasant); and to what extent strength was sacrificed to euphony in this
expression we were soon to learn; for the next day the “makéria,” the
wife of the “mákeri” Elíyas, came to tell us that a ghazzia of the
Éfadaye had suddenly fallen upon Tin-taghóde, and had carried off two
large droves (gérki) of camels and all the moveable property. Such is
the state of this country, where the chiefs, instead of punishing
systematically the rebels and marauders, regard such instances of crime
only as opportunities for enriching themselves with plunder. The Éfadaye
do not muster more than from two hundred to three hundred spears; but
they are generally assisted by the Ígammén and Édelén, two of the tribes
of the Imghád whom I mentioned above.
The next day the old chief, accompanied by Hámma and seven other trusty
companions, set out for Tintéyyat, in order to consult with the old
mʿallem Azóri, “the wise man of Aïr,” about the means of preventing the
bad consequences likely to arise from the turbulent state into which the
country had fallen just when he was about to set out for Sudán.
The old chief, on his return from his important consultation, gave us
some interesting information about “the Lion of Tintéyyat” (Azóri).
Azóri, he said, had attained the highest degree of wisdom and learning,
comprehending all divine and human things, without ever leaving the
country of Aïr. He was now nearly blind, though younger in years than
himself. His father had likewise been a very wise man. Formerly,
according to our friend, there was another great mʿallem in the country,
named Hámi, a native of Tintághódé; and as long as he lived, the
Aníslimen, his fellow-citizens, had been good people and followed the
way of justice, while at present their name “Aníslim” was become a mere
mockery, for they were the worst of the lawless, and had lost all fear
of God; indeed almost all the troubles into which the country had been
plunged might be ascribed to their agency and intrigues. Here the old
chief had touched on his favourite theme; and he gave vent to all his
anger and wrath against those holy men, who were evidently opposed to
his authority.
The old man was, in fact, on the most friendly terms with us, and
instead of being suspicious of our “writing down his country,” was
anxious to correct any erroneous idea which we might entertain
respecting it. I shall never forget with what pleasure he looked over my
sketch of the route from Tintéllust to Ágades, while I explained to him
the principal features of it; and he felt a proud satisfaction in seeing
a stranger from a far distant country appreciate the peculiar charms of
the glens and mountains of his own native land. He was, in short, so
pleased with our manners and our whole demeanour, that one day, after he
had been reposing in my tent and chatting with me, he sent for Yusuf,
and told him plainly that he apprehended that our religion was better
than theirs; whereupon the Arab explained to him that our manners indeed
were excellent, but that our religious creed had some great defects, in
violating the unity of the Almighty God, and elevating one of His
prophets from his real rank of servant of God to that of His Son. Ánnur,
rising a little from his couch, looked steadily into Yusuf’s face, and
said, “hákkanánne” (is it so)? As for me, in order not to provoke a
disputation with Yusuf, who united in himself some of the most amiable
with some of the most hateful qualities, I kept silence as long as he
was present; but when he retired I explained to the chief that, as there
was a great variety of sects among the Mohammedans, so there was also
among the Christians, many of whom laid greater stress upon the
unimpaired unity of the Creator than even the Mohammedans. So much
sufficed for the justification of our religion; for the old man did not
like to talk much upon the subject, though he was strict in his prayers,
as far as we were able to observe. He was a man of business, who desired
to maintain some sort of order in a country where everything naturally
inclines to turbulence and disorder. In other respects, he allowed every
man to do as he liked; and notwithstanding his practical severity, he
was rather of a mild disposition, for he thought Europeans dreadful
barbarians for slaughtering without pity such numbers of people in their
battles, using big guns instead of spears and swords, which were, as he
thought, the only manly and becoming weapons.
The 25th of November was a great market-day for our little settlement,
for on the preceding day the long-expected caravan with provisions
arrived from Damerghú, and all the people were buying their necessary
supply; but we had much difficulty in obtaining what we wanted, as all
our things—even the few dollars we had still left—were depreciated, and
estimated at more than thirty per cent. less than their real value.
After having recovered in Ágades a little from the weakness of my
stomach, by the aid of the princely dishes sent me by ʿAbd el Káder, I
had, notwithstanding the fine cool weather, once more to suffer from the
effects of our almost raw and bitter dishes of Guinea corn, and the more
so as I had no tea left to wash down this unpalatable and indigestible
paste; and I felt more than common delight when we were regaled on the
27th by a fine strong soup made from the meat of the bullock which we
had bought from Ánnur for twelve thousand kurdí. It was a day of great
rejoicing, and a new epoch in our peaceful and dull existence, in
consequence of which I found my health greatly restored.
Our patience, indeed, was tried to the utmost; and I looked for some
moments with a sort of despair into Hámma’s face, when, on his return
from a mission to the Éfadaye, which seemed not to have been quite
successful, he told me on the 28th of November that we should still make
a stay here of twenty-five days. Fortunately he always chose to view
things on the worst side; and I was happy to be assured by the old chief
himself, that our stay here would certainly not exceed fifteen days.
Nevertheless, as the first short days of our sham travelling afterwards
convinced me, the veracious Hámma, who had never deceived me, was in
reality quite right in his statement. My friend came to take leave of
me, as he was to absent himself for a few days, in order to visit an
elder sister of his, who lived in Telíshiet, further up the valley of
Tin-téggana; and of course I had to supply him with some handsome little
production of European manufacture.
We had full reason to admire the energy of the old chief, who on the
30th of November went to a “privy council” with Mʿallem Azóri and Sultan
Astáfidet, which was appointed to be held in some solitary glen, halfway
between Tin-téggana and Ásodi, and, after he had returned late in the
evening of the 1st of December, was galloping along our encampment in
the morning of the 2nd, in order to visit the new watering-place lower
down in the principal valley,—the former well beginning to dry up, or
rather requiring to be dug to a greater depth, as the moisture collected
during the rainy season was gradually receding. This was the first time
we saw our friend on horseback; and though he was seventy-six years of
age, he sat very well and upright in his saddle. Overweg went on one of
the following days to see the well (which was about four miles distant
from our encampment, in a W.N.W. direction, beyond a little village of
the name of Óbrasen), but found it rather a basin formed between the
rocky cliffs, and fed, according to report, by a spring.
Meanwhile I was surprised to learn from Mohammed Byrji, Ánnur’s
grandson, and next claimant to the succession after Háj ʿAbdúwa, that
the last-named, together with El Úsu or Lúsu, the influential chief of
Azanéres, and El Hossén, had started for the south six days previously,
in order to purchase provisions for the salt-caravan. In this little
country something is always going on, and the people all appear to lead
a very restless life; what wonder, then, if most of them are the progeny
of wayfarers, begotten from fortuitous and short-lived matches? Perhaps
in no country is domestic life wanting to such a degree as among the
Kél-owí properly so called; but it would be wrong to include in this
category the tribes of purer blood living at some distance from this
centre of the salt-trade.
At length, on the 5th of December, the first body of the salt-caravan
arrived from Bílma, opening the prospect of a speedy departure from this
our African home; but although we were very eager to obtain a glance at
them, they did not become visible, but kept further to the west. The
following evening, however, several friends and partisans of the old
chief arrived, mounted on mehára, and were received by the women with
loud shrill cries of welcome (“tirlelák” in Temáshight) very similar to
the “tehlíl” of the Arabs.
Preparations were now gradually made for our setting out; but previously
it was necessary to provide a supply of water, not only for the
immediate use of the numerous salt-caravan, but for the constant one of
those people who were to remain behind during the absence of their chief
and master. Accordingly, on the 7th of December the old chief left our
encampment, with all his people, in solemn procession, in order to dig a
new well; and after having long searched with a spear for the most
favourable spot, they set to work close to the entrance of a small
branch-wádi, joining the main valley from the east side, not far from
Ádode; and having obtained a sufficient supply of water, they walled the
well in with branches and stones, so that it was capable of retaining
water at least till the beginning of the next rainy season, when, most
probably, the floods would destroy it. There are, indeed, in these
countries very few undertakings of this kind the existence of which is
calculated upon for more than a year.
Meanwhile, during our long lazy stay in this tranquil alpine retreat of
the wilderness, after I had finished my report on Ágades, I began to
study in a more comprehensive way the interesting language of that
place, and in order to effect that purpose had been obliged to make a
sort of treaty with that shameless profligate Zúmmuzuk, who, for his
exploits in Ágades, had received severe punishment from his master. The
chief conditions of our covenant were, that he was to receive every day
a certain allowance, but that during his presence in my tent he was not
to move from the place assigned him, the limits of which were very
accurately defined—of course at a respectable distance from my luggage;
and if he touched anything I was officially permitted by Ánnur to shoot
him on the spot. Notwithstanding the coolness and reserve which I was
obliged to adopt in my intercourse with this man, I was fully capable of
estimating his veracity; and in the course of my journey and my
researches I convinced myself that in no one instance did he deviate
from the truth.
Going on in this way, I had completed, by the 8th of the month, an exact
and full vocabulary of the Emgédesi language, and could with more
leisure indulge in a conversation with my friend Ámagay, the chief
eunuch and confidential servant of the sultan of Ágades, who paid me a
visit, and brought me the most recent news from the capital. Affairs
were all in the best state, his business now being merely to arrange a
few matters with Ánnur before the latter set out for Sudán. He informed
me that the salt-caravan of the Kél-gerés and Itísan had long ago
returned from Bílma, taking with them our letter to the sultan of
Sókoto, and accompanied by Mohammed Bóro, who had taken all his children
with him except those who were still attending school. Ámagay had also
brought with him the curious letter from Mustapha the governor of
Fezzán, which is spoken of by Mr. Richardson. I treated him with some
coffee (which was now with me a very precious article, as I had but
little left), and made him a small present.
[Footnote 196: I am sorry that a long letter on the topography of the
country (written chiefly from Músa’s information), which I sent to
Europe, appears never to have arrived. It is for this reason that I am
unable to lay down with some degree of accuracy that part of the country
of Ásben which I did not visit myself.]
CHAP. XX.
FINAL DEPARTURE FOR SUDÁN.
[Sidenote: Thursday, December 12th, 1850. Safer 7th, 1266.]
At length the day broke when we were to move on and get nearer the
longed-for object of our journey, though we were aware that our first
progress would be slow. But before we departed from this region, which
had become so familiar to us, I wished to take a last glimpse down the
valley towards Tintéllust, and wandered towards the offshoots of Mount
Búnday, which afforded me a fine prospect over the whole valley up to
that beautiful mountain-mass which forms so characteristic a feature in
the configuration of the whole country. The hills which I ascended
consisted of basalt, and formed a low ridge, which was separated from
the principal mountain-mass by a hollow of sandstone formation. Having
bade farewell to the blue mountains of Tintéllust, I took leave of the
charming little valley Ofáyet, which, having been a few moments
previously a busy scene of life, was now left to silence and solitude.
Late in the morning we began to move, but very slowly, halting every now
and then. At length the old chief himself came up, walking like a young
man before his méheri, which he led by the nose-cord; and the varied
groups composing the caravan began to march more steadily. It was a
whole nation in motion, the men on camels or on foot, the women on
bullocks or on asses, with all the necessaries of the little household,
as well as the houses themselves,—a herd of cattle, another of milk-
goats, and numbers of young camels running playfully alongside, and
sometimes getting between the regular lines of the laden animals. The
ground was very rocky and rugged, and looked bare and desolate in the
extreme, the plain being strewn for a while with loose basaltic stones,
like the plain of Tághist.
Several high peaks characterize this volcanic region; and after having
left to our right the peak called Ebárrasa, we encamped, a little before
noon, at the north-eastern foot of a very conspicuous peak called
Teléshera, which had long attracted my attention. We had scarcely chosen
our ground when I set out on foot in order to ascend this high mountain,
from which I expected to obtain a view over the eastern side of the
picturesque mass of the Eghellál; but its ascent proved very difficult,
chiefly because I had not exerted my strength much during our long stay
in this country. The flanks of the peak, after I had ascended the
offshoots, which consisted of sandstone, were most precipitous and
abrupt, and covered with loose stones, which gave way under my feet, and
often carried me a long way down. The summit consisted of perpendicular
trachytic pillars, of quadrangular and almost regular form, 2½ feet in
thickness, as if cut by the hand of man, some of them about one hundred
feet high, while others had been broken off at greater or less height.
It is at least 1500 feet above the bottom of the valley. The view was
interesting, although the sky was not clear; I was able to take several
angles; but the western flank of the Eghellál, which I was particularly
anxious to obtain a sight of, was covered by other heights.
Beyond the branch-wádi which surrounds this mountain on the south side,
there is a ridge ranging to a greater length, and rising from the ground
with a very precipitous wall; this was examined by Mr. Overweg, and
found to consist likewise of trachyte interspersed with black basaltic
stone, and crystals of glassy felspar. Having attained my purpose, I
began my retreat, but found the descent more troublesome than the
ascent, particularly as my boots were torn to pieces by the sharp
stones; and the fragments giving way under my feet, I fell repeatedly. I
was quite exhausted when I reached the tent; but a cup of strong coffee
soon restored me. However, I never afterwards on my whole journey felt
strong enough to ascend a mountain of moderate elevation.
[Sidenote: Friday, December 13th.]
Starting rather late, we continued through the mountainous region,
generally ascending, while a cold wind made our old friend the chief
shiver and regard with feelings of envy my thick black bernús, although
he had got bernúses enough from us not only to protect him against cold,
but us too against any envious feeling for the little which was left us.
Further on, in several places the granite (which at the bottom of the
valley alternates with sandstone) was perfectly disintegrated, and had
become like meal. Here the passage narrowed for about an hour, when we
obtained a view of a long range stretching out before us with a
considerable cone lying in front of it. Keeping now over rocky ground,
then along the bottom of a valley called Tánegat, about half a mile
broad, where we passed a well on our right, we at length reached a
mountain-spur starting off from the ridge on our right, and entered a
beautiful broad plain stretching out to the foot of a considerable
mountain-group, which was capped by a remarkable picturesquely-indented
cone called Mári. Here we saw the numerous camels of the salt-caravan
grazing in the distance to our left; and after having crossed a small
rocky flat, we encamped in the very channel of the torrent, being
certain that at this season no such danger as overwhelmed us in the
valley Éghazar was to be feared. Ámagay, who was still with us, paid me
a visit in the afternoon, and had a cup of coffee; he also came the next
morning. Near our encampment were some fine acacia-trees of the species
called gáwo, which I shall have to mention repeatedly in my travels.
[Sidenote: Saturday, December 14th.]
We started early, but encamped, after a short march of about six miles,
on uneven ground intersected by numbers of small ridges. The reason of
the halt was, that the whole of the caravan was to come up and to join
together; and our old chief here put on his official dress (a yellow
bernús of good quality), to show his dignity as leader of such a host of
people.