unsuccessful; however, after we had started again at three o’clock, they
procured a man from the bíllama of the next village, and then left me. I
wished to obtain a guide to conduct me at once to Kúkawa; but I was
obliged to submit to this arrangement, though nothing is more tedious
and wearisome than to be obliged to change the guide at every little
place, particularly if the traveller be in a hurry. It might be
inferred, from the number of little paths crossing each other in every
direction, that the country is thickly inhabited; and a considerable
troop of tugúrchi gave proof of some intercourse. Dark-coloured, swampy
ground, called “ánge,” at times interrupted the sandy soil, which was
covered with fine pasture; and we gradually ascended a little. I had
already changed my guide four times, when, after some trouble, I
obtained another at the village Gúsumrí; but the former guide had
scarcely turned his back, when his successor in office decamped, most
probably in order not to miss his supper, and, after some useless
threatening, I had again to grope my way onward as well as I could.
Darkness was already setting in when I encamped near the village Bággem,
where I was treated hospitably by the inhabitants of the nearest
cottage.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, April 1st.]
Keeping through an open country with sandy soil and good pasture, we
reached, a little after nine o’clock, the well of Úra, a village lying
at some distance to the left of the path, and here filled a waterskin,
and watered the horse; but, hurrying on as we were, perhaps we did not
allow the poor beast sufficient time to fill his stomach. Having then
marched on through an open country, where large trees cease altogether,
only detached clusters of bushes appearing here and there, and where we
saw a large herd of ostriches and a troop of gazelles, we halted a
little before noon in the scanty shade of a small _Balanites_.
About two o’clock in the afternoon, after man and beast had enjoyed a
little repose and food, we prepared to continue our march; and my horse
was already saddled, my bernús hanging over the saddle, when I perceived
that my two youngsters could not manage our swift and capricious she-
camel, and that, having escaped from their hands, although her forelegs
were tied together, she baffled all their efforts to catch her again.
Confiding, therefore, in the staid and obedient disposition of my horse,
I ran to assist them, and we at length succeeded in catching the camel;
but when I returned to the place where I had left my horse, it was gone,
and it was with some difficulty that we found its tracks, showing that
it had returned in the direction whence we had come. It had strayed
nearly as far as the well of Úra, when it was most fortunately stopped
by some musketeers marching to Kúkawa, who met my boy, when he had
already gone halfway in pursuit of it.
In consequence of this _contretemps_, it was five o’clock when we again
set out on our march; and in order to retrieve the lost time, I kept
steadily on till half an hour before midnight. At seven o’clock we
passed a considerable village called Búwa, where the troops, horse and
foot, which had passed us some time before, had taken up their quarters,
and two miles further on we had villages on our right and left; but
still there were few signs of population, probably because, owing to the
lateness of the hour, the fires were extinguished. We encamped, at
length, near a small village, but had reason to repent our choice; for
while we were unable to procure a drop of water, the inhabitants being
obliged to bring their supply from a considerable distance, we were
annoyed the whole night by a violent quarrel between a man and his two
wives. But here I must remark that I very rarely witnessed such
disgusting scenes during the whole of my travels in Negroland.
[Footnote 50: Ngurútuwa, properly meaning the place full of hippopotami,
is a very common name in Bórnu, just as in “Rúóa-n-dorina” (the water of
the hippopotami) is a wide-spread name given by Háusa travellers to any
water which they may find in the wilderness.]
[Footnote 51: The name looks rather strange to me, a tribe of the Fúlbe
of this name not having otherwise come to my knowledge; and I am almost
inclined to think that these poor herdsmen, separated from their
kinsmen, have corrupted the name originally Úrube. The Óbore, however,
are even known at present in other parts of the kingdom, and were met
with by Mr. Overweg on his journey to Gújeba.]
CHAP. XXVIII.
ARRIVAL IN KÚKAWA.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, April 2nd.]
This was to be a most momentous day of my travels; for I was to reach
that place which was the first distinct object of our mission, and I
was to come into contact with those people on whose ill or good-will
depended the whole success of our mission.
Although encamped late at night, we were again up at an early hour; but
in endeavouring to return to the track which we had left the preceding
night, we inadvertently crossed it, and so came to another village, with
a very numerous herd of cattle, where we became aware of our error, and
then had to regain the main road.
Two miles afterwards there was a very great change in the character of
the country; for the sandy soil which had characterized the district all
along the komádugu now gave way to clay, where water is only met with at
considerable depth. We met a troop of tugúrchi, who informed us that
none of the villages along our track at the present moment had a supply
of water, not even the considerable village Kangáruwa, but that at the
never-failing well of Beshér I should be able to water my horse. This
news only served to confirm me in my resolution to ride on in advance,
in order as well to water my poor beast before the greatest heat of the
day, as to reach the residence in good time.
I therefore took leave of my two young servants, and, giving Mohammed
strict orders to follow me with the camels as fast as possible, I
hastened on. The wooded level became now interrupted from time to time
by bare naked concavities, or shallow hollows, consisting of black
sedimentary soil, where, during the rainy season, the water collects
and, drying up gradually, leaves a most fertile sediment for the
cultivation of the másakwá. This is a peculiar kind of holcus, (_Holcus
cernuus_,) which forms a very important article in the agriculture of
Bórnu. Sown soon after the end of the rainy season, it grows up entirely
by the fructifying power of the soil, and ripens with the assistance
only of the abundant dews, which fall here usually in the months
following the rainy season. These hollows, which are the most
characteristic natural feature in the whole country, and which encompass
the south-western corner of the great lagoon of Central Africa
throughout a distance of more than sixty miles from its present shore,
are called “ghadír” by the Arabs, “fírki,” or “ánge,” by the Kanúri.
Indeed they amply testify to the far greater extent of the lagoon in
ante-historical times.
Pushing on through a country of this description, and passing several
villages, I reached about noon Beshér, a group of villages scattered
over the corn-fields, where numerous horsemen of the sheikh were
quartered; and being unable myself to find the well, I made a bargain
with one of the people to water my horse, for which he exacted from me
forty “kúngona” or cowries. However, when I had squatted down for a
moment’s rest in the shade of a small talha-tree, his wife, who had been
looking on, began to reprove him for driving so hard a bargain with a
young inexperienced stranger; and then she brought me a little tiggra
and curdled milk diluted with water, and afterwards some ngáji, or paste
of sorghum.
Having thus recruited my strength, I continued my march; but my horse,
not having fared so well, was nearly exhausted. The heat was intense;
and therefore we proceeded but slowly till I reached Kálilwá, when I
began seriously to reflect on my situation, which was very peculiar. I
was now approaching the residence of the chief whom the mission, of
which I had the honour to form part, was especially sent out to salute,
in a very poor plight, without resources of any kind, and left entirely
by myself owing to the death of the director. I was close to this place,
a large town, and was about to enter it without a single companion. The
heat being just at its highest, no living being was to be seen either in
the village or on the road; and I hesitated a moment, considering
whether it would not be better to wait here for my camels. But my timid
reluctance being confounded by the thought that my people might be far
behind, and that if I waited for them we should find no quarters
prepared for us, I spurred on my nag, and soon reached the western
suburb of Kúkawa.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
THE DENDAL IN KÚKAWA.
April, 1851.]
Proceeding with some hesitation towards the white clay wall which
encircles the town, and which from a little distance could scarcely be
distinguished from the adjoining ground, I entered the gate, being gazed
at by a number of people collected here, and who were still more
surprised when I inquired for the residence of the sheikh. Then passing
the little daily market (the dyrríya), which was crowded with people, I
rode along the déndal, or promenade, straight up to the palace, which
borders the promenade towards the east. It is flanked by a very
indifferent mosque, built likewise of clay, with a tower at its N.W.
corner, while houses of grandees inclose the place on the north and
south sides. The only ornament of this place is a fine chédia or
caoutchouc-tree in front of the house of ʿAli Ladán, on the south side;
but occasionally it becomes enlivened by interesting groups of Arabs and
native courtiers in all the finery of their dress, and of their richly
caparisoned horses.
The sheikh, though he usually resides in his palace in the eastern town,
was at present here; and the slaves stared at me, without understanding,
or caring to understand, what I wanted, until Díggama, the storekeeper,
was called, who, knowing something of me as ʿAbd el Kerím, ordered a
slave to conduct me to the vizier. Though I had heard some account of
the sheikh living out of the western town, I was rather taken by
surprise at seeing the large extent of the double town; and I was
equally astonished at the number of gorgeously-dressed horsemen whom I
met on my way.
Considering my circumstances, I could not have chosen a more favourable
moment for arriving. About two hundred horsemen were assembled before
the house of the vizier, who was just about to mount his horse in order
to pay his daily visit to the sheikh. When he came out, he saluted me in
a very cheerful way, and was highly delighted when he heard and saw that
I had come quite alone. He told me he had known me already, from the
letter which I had sent to his agent in Zínder stating that I would come
after I had finished my business, but not before. While he himself rode
in great state to the sheikh, he ordered one of his people to show me my
quarters. These were closely adjoining the vizier’s house, consisting of
two immense courtyards, the more secluded of which inclosed, besides a
half-finished clay dwelling, a very spacious and neatly-built hut. This,
as I was told, had been expressly prepared for the mission before it was
known that we were without means.
I had scarcely taken possession of my quarters when I received several
visits from various parties attached to the mission, who all at once
made me quite _au fait_ of all the circumstances of my not very enviable
situation as one of its surviving members. The first person who called
upon me was Ibrahím, the carpenter, who, at Mr. Richardson’s request,
had been sent up from Tripoli, at the monthly salary of twenty mahbúbs
besides a sum of four dollars for his maintenance. He was certainly a
handsome young man, about twenty-two years of age, a native of “the holy
house” (Bét el mogaddus) or Jerusalem, with big sounding phrases in his
mouth, and quite satisfied to return with me directly to Fezzán without
having done anything. Then came his more experienced and cheerful
companion, ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, a real sailor, who was not so loud in his
clamours, but urged more distinctly the payment of his salary, which was
equal to that of Ibrahím.
After I had consoled these dear friends, and assured them that I had no
idea at present of returning northwards, and that I should do my best to
find the means of satisfying the most urgent of their claims, there
arrived another of the bloodsuckers of the mission, and the most thirsty
of them all. It was my colleague, the bibulous Yusuf, son of Mukni the
former governor of Fezzán, accompanied by Mohammed ben Bu-Sʿad, whom Mr.
Richardson, when he discharged Yusuf in Zínder, had taken into his
service in his stead, and by Mohammed ben Habíb, the least serviceable
of Mr. Richardson’s former servants. Yusuf was mounted upon a fine
horse, and most splendidly dressed; but he was extremely gracious and
condescending, as he entertained the hope that my boxes and bags, which
had just arrived with my faithful Gatróni, were full of shells, and that
I should be able to pay his salary at once. He was greatly puzzled when
I informed him of my extreme poverty. Mr. Richardson’s other servants,
to my great regret, had gone off the day before, unpaid as they were, in
order to regain their various homes.
I now ascertained that the pay due to Mr. Richardson’s servants amounted
to more than three hundred dollars; besides which there was the
indefinite debt to the Sfáksi, amounting in reality to twelve hundred
and seventy dollars, but which, by the form in which the bill had been
given, might easily be doubled. I did not possess a single dollar, a
single bernús, nor anything of value, and moreover was informed by my
friends that I should be expected to make both to the sheikh and to the
vizier a handsome present of my own. I now saw also that what the sheríf
el Habíb had told me on the road (viz. that all Mr. Richardson’s things
had been divided and squandered) was not altogether untrue. At least,
they had been deposited with the vizier on very uncertain conditions, or
rather had been delivered up to him by the two interpreters of our late
companion, intimating to him that I and Mr. Overweg were quite
subordinate people attached to the mission, and that we had no right to
interfere in the matter.
Seeing how matters stood, I thought it best, in order to put a stop to
the intrigues which had been set a going, to take Mohammed ben Sʿad into
my service on the same salary which he had received from Mr. Richardson.
Besides, I pledged my word to all that they should each receive what was
due to him, only regretting that the rest of Mr. Richardson’s people had
already gone away.
After all these communications, fraught with oppressive anxiety, I
received a most splendid supper as well from the sheikh as from the
vizier, and, after the various exertions of the day, enjoyed a quiet
night’s rest in my clean cottage.
Thus strengthened, I went the next morning to pay my respects to the
vizier, taking with me a small present of my own, the principal
attractions of which lay in a thick twisted lace of silk of very
handsome workmanship, which I had had made in Tripoli, and a leathern
letter-case of red colour, which I had brought with me from Europe.
Destitute as I was of any means, and not quite sure as yet whether Her
Britannic Majesty’s Government would authorize me to carry out the
objects of the mission, I did not deem it expedient to assume too much
importance, but simply told the vizier that, though the director of the
mission had not been fortunate enough to convey to him and the sheikh
with his own mouth the sentiments of the British Government, yet I hoped
that, even in this respect, these endeavours would not be quite in vain,
although at the present moment our means were so exhausted that, even
for executing our scientific plans, we were entirely dependent on their
kindness.
The same reserve I maintained in my interview with the sheikh on the
morning of Friday, when I laid little stress upon the object of our
mission (to obtain security of commerce for English merchants), thinking
it better to leave this to time, but otherwise dwelling upon the
friendship established between the sheikh’s father and the English, and
representing to them that, relying upon this manifestation of their
friendly disposition, we had come without reserve to live awhile among
them, and under their protection and with their assistance to obtain an
insight into this part of the world, which appeared so strange in our
eyes. Our conversation was quite free from constraint or reserve, as
nobody was present besides the sheikh and the vizier.
I found the sheikh (ʿOmár, the eldest son of Mohammed el Amín el Kánemy)
a very simple, benevolent, and even cheerful man. He has regular and
agreeable features, rather a little too round to be expressive; but he
is remarkably black—a real glossy black, such as is rarely seen in
Bórnu, and which he has inherited undoubtedly from his mother, a
Bagirmaye princess. He was very simply dressed in a light tobe, having a
bernús negligently wrapped round his shoulder; round his head a dark-red
shawl was twisted with great care; and his face was quite uncovered,
which surprised me not a little, as his father used to cover it in the
Tawárek fashion. He was reclining upon a diván covered with a carpet, at
the back of a fine airy hall neatly polished.
My presents were very small, the only valuable article among them being
a nice little copy of the Kurán, which on a former occasion I had bought
in Egypt for five pounds sterling, and was now carrying with me for my
own use. That I made a present of this book to the prince may perhaps be
regarded with an unfavourable eye by some persons in this country; but
let them consider it as a sign of an unprejudiced mind, and of the very
high esteem in which he held me, that, although knowing me to be a
Christian, he did not refuse to accept from my hands that which was most
holy in his eyes. On the whole I could not have expected a more friendly
reception, either from the sheikh or from his vizier. But there was a
very delicate point which I was obliged to touch upon: what was to
become of Mr. Richardson’s property?
In the afternoon I went again to the vizier, and requested to see the
inventory of all that my late companion had left; and he showed it to me
and read it himself. He then ordered the box to be opened, which
contained clothes and papers; and I was glad to see that not only the
journals, upon the keeping of which Mr. Richardson had bestowed great
care, but also all his other collectanea were safe. Having taken the
inventory with me, I sent Mohammed the following day to him with the
request that Mr. Richardson’s property should be delivered to me. Having
been desired to call myself at noon, I went, but was surprised to find
only Lamíno (properly El Amín), the vizier’s confidential officer, of
whom I shall have occasion to speak hereafter. I was still more
surprised when only some of Mr. Richardson’s boxes were brought in, and
I was desired to select what I wanted, and leave the rest behind. This I
refused to do, and asked where the other things were, when Lamíno did
not hesitate to declare that the ornamented gun and the handsome pair of
pistols had been sold. Upon hearing this, though I had been treated very
kindly and hospitably on my arrival, and had received immense quantities
of provision of every kind, I could not refrain from declaring that if
in truth they had behaved so unscrupulously with other people’s property
I had nothing more to do here, and returned to my quarters immediately.
My firmness had its desired effect; and late in the evening I received a
message from the vizier, that if I wanted to have a private interview
with him I might come now, as during the daytime he was always troubled
by the presence of a great many people. The person who brought me this
message was Háj Edrís, a man of whom in the course of my proceedings I
shall have to speak repeatedly. Satisfied with having an opportunity of
conversing with the vizier without reserve, I followed the messenger
immediately, and found Háj Beshír quite alone, sitting in an inner court
of his house, with two small wax candles by his side. We then had a long
interview, which lasted till midnight, and the result of which was that
I protested formally against the sale of those things left by Mr.
Richardson, and insisted that all should be delivered to me and to Mr.
Overweg as soon as he should arrive, when we would present to the sheikh
and to the vizier, in a formal manner, all those articles which we knew
our companion had intended to give to them. Besides, I urged once more
the necessity of forwarding the news of Mr. Richardson’s death, and of
my safe arrival, as soon as possible, as, after our late misfortunes in
Aïr, Her Britannic Majesty’s Government, as well as our friends, would
be most anxious about our safety. I likewise tried to persuade my
benevolent and intelligent host that he might do a great service to the
mission, if he would enable us to carry out part of our scientific
purposes without delay, as Government would certainly not fail to honour
us with their confidence, if they saw that we were going on. Having
carried all my points, and being promised protection and assistance to
the widest extent, I indulged in a more friendly chat, and, delighted by
the social character of my host, and full of the most confident hopes
for my future proceedings, withdrew a little after midnight.
Having in this way vindicated the honourable character of the mission,
and my own, I applied myself with more cheerfulness to my studies and
inquiries, for which I found ample opportunity; for many distinguished
personages from distant countries were staying here at this time, partly
on their journey to or from Mekka, partly only attracted by the fame of
the vizier’s hospitable and bounteous character. But before I give any
account of my stay in Kúkawa previous to my setting out for Adamáwa, I
think it well to try to impart to the reader a more lively interest in
the country to which he has thus been transferred, by laying before him
a short account of its history, as I have been able to make it out from
original documents and from oral information.
CHAP. XXIX.
AUTHENTICITY AND GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE HISTORY OF BÓRNU.
Any writer who attempts to recall from obscurity and oblivion the past
ages of an illiterate nation, and to lay before the public even the most
elementary sketch of its history, will probably have to contend against
the strong prejudices of numerous critics, who are accustomed to refuse
belief to whatever is incapable of bearing the strictest inquiry.
The documents upon which the history of Bórnu is based, besides the
scanty information contained in the narratives of recent explorers, are—
1. A chronicle (“diván”), or rather the dry and sterile abridgment of a
chronicle, comprising the whole history of Bórnu, from the earliest time
down to Ibrahím, the last unfortunate offspring of the royal family, who
had just ascended the crumbling throne of the Bórnu empire when the last
English expedition arrived in that country. 6 pp. 4to.[52]
2. Two other still shorter lists of the Bórnu kings.
3. A detailed history of the first twelve years of the reign of the king
Edrís Alawóma, consisting of two parts, in my copy one of 77 and the
other of 145 pages, and written by a contemporary of the above-mentioned
king, the imám Ahmed, son of Sofíya. Of this very interesting and
important history a copy was forwarded by the late vizier of Bórnu, Háj
Beshír ben Tiráb, at my urgent request[53], to Her Britannic Majesty’s
Government, and is now in the Foreign Office; another copy I myself have
brought back.
4. A few facts regarding the history of this country, mentioned by
Arabic writers, such as Ebn Sʿaid (A.D. 1282), Ebn Batúta (A.D. 1353),
Ebn Khaldún (A.D. 1381/2), and Makrízi (about A.D. 1400), Leo Africanus
(A.D. 1528).
5. A short document containing information about embassies sent to
Tripoli by some Bórnu kings, and published in the “Bulletin de la
Société Géographique de Paris,” 1849, 252. ff.