As an example of the risks which European travellers may incur by giving

medicines to natives to administer to themselves at home, I will relate

the following incident. Ibrahím told me one day that he wanted some

cooling medicine; and I gave him two strong doses of Epsom salts, to use

occasionally. He then complained the following day that he was suffering

from worms; and when I told him that the Epsom salts would not have the

effect of curing this complaint, but that worm-powder would, he begged

me to give him some of the latter; and I gave him three doses to use on

three successive days. However, my poor friend, though an intelligent

man, thought that it might not be amiss to take all this medicine at

once, viz. four ounces of Epsom salts and six drachms of worm-powder;

and the reader may imagine the effect which this dose produced upon a

rather slender man. Unfortunately, I had just taken a ride out of the

town; and he remained for full two days in a most desperate state, while

his friends, who had sent in vain to my house to obtain my assistance,

were lamenting to all the people that the Christian had killed their

companion, the pious pilgrim.

Besides these two men, there were many interesting strangers at that

time in Kúkawa, from whom I learnt more or less. Some of them I shall

here mention, as their character and story will afford the reader a

glance at one side of life in Negroland. A man who had performed travels

of an immense extent, from Khórasán in the east as far as Sansándi in

the west, and from Tripoli and Morocco in the north as far as Asiantí

and Jenakhéra and Fertít towards the south, would have been of great

service, if he had preserved an exact recollection of all the routes

which he had followed in his devious wanderings; but as it was, I could

only gather from him some general information, the most interesting part

of which had reference to Mósi or rather Móre, a large and populous

country known by name already, from Sultan Béllo’s curious

communications to Captain Clapperton, but always misplaced in the maps,

and its capital Wóghodoghó.

This enterprising man, who generally travelled as a dervish, had gone

from Sofára on the Máyo balléo or Niger, between Hamdalláhi and Ségo,

across a most unsettled country, to Wóghodoghó; but he was unable to

give me any precise details with regard to it, and I never met another

person who had travelled this dangerous route. He had also travelled all

along the pagan states to the south of Bagírmi and Wadáy, and advised me

strongly, if it were my plan to penetrate to the upper Nile (as, indeed,

I then intended, notwithstanding my total want of means), to adopt the

character of a dervish, which he deemed essential for my success. But

while such a character might, indeed, insure general success, it would

preclude the possibility of making any accurate observations, and would

render necessary the most painful, if not insupportable, privations. And

on the whole this poor fellow was less fortunate than I; for in the year

1854 he was slain on that very route from Yóla to Kúkawa which I myself

had twice passed successfully. He was a native of Baghdád, and called

himself Sheríf Ahmed el Baghdádi.

There was another singular personage, a native of Sennár, who had been a

clerk in the Turkish army, but, as malicious tongues gave out, had been

too fond of the cash intrusted to his care, and absconded. He afterwards

resided some years in Wadáy, where he had drilled a handful of the

sultan’s slaves, had come to this kingdom to try his fortune, and was

now about to be sent to Wadáy by the sheikh of Bórnu, as a spy, to see

if the prince of that country had still any design of recommencing

hostilities. From all persons of this description a traveller may learn

a great deal; and, intriguing fellows as they generally are, and going

from court to court spreading reports everywhere, prudence requires that

he should keep on tolerably good terms with them.

Most interesting and instructive was a host of pilgrims from different

parts of Másena or Mélle, partly Fúlbe, partly Sónghay, who having heard

of the white man, and of his anxiety to collect information respecting

all parts of the continent, came repeatedly to me to contribute each his

share. I used to regale them with coffee, while they gave me ample

opportunities of comparing and testing their statements. The most

interesting and best informed amongst them were Bu-Bakr, a native of

Hamdalláhi, the capital of the sheikh (sekho) Ahmedu ben Ahmedu, who

having made a pilgrimage to Mekka, had long resided in Yeman, and was

now returning homeward with a good deal of knowledge; and another

cheerful and simple-hearted old man from Sá on the Isa or Niger, between

Hamdalláhi and Timbúktu. Indeed, as the report of Ahmed bel Mejúb about

Adamáwa had confirmed me in my determination to sacrifice everything in

order to visit that country as soon as possible, so the manifold

information of these people with respect to the countries on the middle

course of the so-called Niger excited in me a most ardent desire to

execute the design, previously but vaguely entertained, of accomplishing

also a journey westward to Timbúktu.

Among my Bórnu friends at this time, the most instructive were Shitíma

Makarémma and Ámsakay. The former, who had been a courtier under the old

dynasty, and who had saved his life by his intrigues, was a very

intelligent old man, but an acknowledged rascal, to whom unnatural

vices, which seem in general entirely unknown in these regions, were

imputed. Nevertheless he was the only man who was master of all the

history of the old dynasty; and he spoke the Kanúri language with such

exquisite beauty as I have never heard from anybody else. He had two

very handsome daughters, whom he succeeded in marrying, one to the

vizier and one to his adversary, ʿAbd e’ Rahmán; but in December 1853 he

was executed, together with the vizier, but on totally different

grounds, as having long forfeited his life. Quite a different sort of

man was Ámsakay, a simple Kánemma chief, who has been represented in one

of my sketches. He had formerly distinguished himself by his expeditions

against the Búdduma, till those enterprising islanders succeeded in

conciliating him by the gift of one of their handsome daughters for a

wife, when he became half settled amongst them.

I had also some interesting pagan instructors, among whom I will only

mention Agíd Búrku, a very handsome youth, but who had undergone the

horrible process of castration. The abolition of this practice in the

Mohammedan world ought to be the first object of Christian governments

and missionaries, not merely on account of the unnatural and desecrated

state to which it reduces a human being, but on account of the dreadful

character of the operation itself, which, in these countries at least,

is the reason why scarcely one in ten survives it. With extreme delight

Agíd Búrku dwelt upon the unconstrained nudity in which his countrymen

indulged, and with great _naïveté_ described a custom of the pagans,

which is identical with a custom of the civilized Europeans, but is an

abomination in the eyes of every Mohammedan. He had wandered about a

good deal in the southern provinces of Bagírmi and Wadáy, and gave me

the first information about the interesting mountain-group near Kénga

Matáya.

But I must principally dwell upon my relations to the vizier el Háj

Beshír ben Ahmed Tiráb, upon whose benevolent disposition the whole

success of the mission depended, as he ruled entirely the mind of the

sheikh, who was more sparing of words, and less intelligent.

Mohammed el Beshír, being the son of the most influential man in Bórnu

after the sheikh, enjoyed all the advantages which such a position could

offer for the cultivation of his mind, which was by nature of a superior

cast. He had gone on a pilgrimage to Mekka in the year 1843, by way of

Ben-Gházi, when he had an opportunity both of showing the Arabs near the

coast that the inhabitants of the interior of the continent are superior

to the beasts, and of getting a glimpse of a higher state of

civilization than he had been able to observe in his own country.

Having thus learned to survey the world collectively from a new point of

view, and with an increased eagerness after everything foreign and

marvellous, he returned to his native country, where he soon had an

opportunity of proving his talent, his father being slain in the

unfortunate battle at Kúsuri, and Sheikh ʿOmár, a fugitive in his native

country, having much need of a faithful counsellor in his embarrassed

situation. The sheikh was beset by a powerful and victorious host,

encamping in the largest of the towns of his kingdom, while the party of

the old dynasty was rising again, and not only withdrawing from him the

best forces wherewith to face the enemy, but threatening his very

existence, at the same time that a brother was standing in fierce

rivalry to him at the head of a numerous army. Sheikh ʿOmár was

successful, the host of Wadáy was obliged to withdraw, and, abandoning

the purpose for which they had come, namely, that of re-establishing the

old dynasty, commenced a difficult retreat of many hundred miles at the

beginning of the rainy season; the partisans of the old dynasty were

entirely crushed, the last prince of that family slain, the residence of

the sultans levelled to the ground, and even the remembrance of the old

times was almost effaced. There remained to be feared only his brother

ʿAbd e’ Rahmán. ʿAbd e’ Rahmán was a good soldier, but a man of a very

loose and violent character. When a youth he had committed all sorts of

violence and injustice, carrying off young brides by force, to indulge

his passions: he was besides a man of little intelligence. Being but a

few months younger than ʿOmár, he thought himself equally entitled to

the succession; and if once admitted into a high position in the empire,

he might be expected to abuse his influence on the very first

opportunity.

Sheikh ʿOmár, therefore, could not but choose to confide rather in the

intelligent son of his old minister, the faithful companion in the field

and counsellor of his father, than in his own fierce and jealous

brother; and all depended upon the behaviour of Háj Beshír, and upon the

discretion with which he should occupy and maintain his place as first,

or rather only minister of the kingdom. Assuredly his policy should have

been to conciliate, as much as possible, all the greater “kokanáwa” or

courtiers, in order to undermine the influence of ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, whom

it might be wise to keep at a respectful distance. But in this respect

the vizier seems to have made great mistakes, his covetousness blinding

him to his principal advantages; for covetous he certainly was—first,

from the love of possessing, and also in order to indulge his luxurious

disposition, for he was certainly rather “kamúma,” that is to say,

extremely fond of the fair sex, and had a harím of from three to four

hundred female slaves.

In assembling this immense number of female companions for the

entertainment of his leisure hours, he adopted a scientific principle;

in fact, a credulous person might suppose that he regarded his harím

only from a scientific point of view;—as a sort of ethnological

museum—doubtless of a peculiarly interesting kind—which he had brought

together in order to impress upon his memory the distinguishing features

of each tribe. I have often observed that, in speaking with him of the

different tribes of Negroland, he was at times struck with the novelty

of a name, lamenting that he had not yet had a specimen of that tribe in

his harím, and giving orders at once to his servants to endeavour to

procure a perfect sample of the missing kind. I remember, also, that on

showing to him one day an illustrated ethnological work in which he took

a lively interest, and coming to a beautiful picture of a Circassian

female, he told me, with an expression of undisguised satisfaction, that

he had a living specimen of that kind; and when, forgetting the laws of

Mohammedan etiquette, I was so indiscreet as to ask him whether she was

as handsome as the picture, he answered only with a smile, at once

punishing and pardoning my indiscreet question. I must also say that,

notwithstanding the great number and variety of the women who shared his

attention, he seemed to take a hearty interest in each of them; at least

I remember that he grieved most sincerely for the loss of one who died

in the winter of 1851. Poor Háj Beshír! He was put to death in the last

month of 1853, leaving seventy-three sons alive, not counting the

daughters, and the numbers of children which may be supposed to die in

such an establishment without reaching maturity.

But to return to his political character. I said that he neglected to

attach to himself the more powerful of the courtiers, with whose

assistance he might have hoped to keep the rival brother of Sheikh ʿOmár

at some distance; indeed, he even alienated them by occasional, and

sometimes injudicious use of his almost unlimited power, obliging them,

for instance, to resign to him a handsome female slave or a fine horse.

If he had possessed great personal courage and active powers, he might

have mastered circumstances and kept his post, notwithstanding the ill-

will of all around him; but he wanted those qualities, as the result

shows: and yet, well aware of the danger which threatened him, he was

always on his guard, having sundry loaded pistols and carbines always

around him, upon and under his carpet. Shortly before I arrived, an

arrow had been shot at him in the evening, while he was sitting in his

courtyard.

I have peculiar reason to thank Providence for having averted the storm

which was gathering over his head during my stay in Bórnu, for my

intimacy with him might very easily have involved me also in the

calamities which befell him. However, I repeat that altogether he was a

most excellent, kind, liberal, and just man, and might have done much

good to the country, if he had been less selfish and more active. He was

incapable, indeed, of executing by himself any act of severity, such as

in the unsettled state of a semi-barbarous kingdom may at times be

necessary; and, being conscious of his own mildness, he left all those

matters to a man named Lamíno, to whom I gave the title of “the

shameless left hand of the vizier,” and whom I shall have frequent

occasion to mention.

I pressed upon the vizier the necessity of defending the northern

frontier of Bórnu against the Tawárek by more effectual measures than

had been then adopted, and thus retrieving, for cultivation and the

peaceable abode of his fellow-subjects, the fine borders of the

komádugu, and restoring security to the road to Fezzán. Just about this

time the Tawárek had made another expedition into the border-districts

on a large scale, so that Kashélla Belál, the first of the war chiefs,

was obliged to march against them; and the road to Kanó, which I, with

my usual good luck, had passed unmolested, had become so unsafe that a

numerous caravan was plundered, and a well-known Arab merchant, the

sheríf el Gháli, killed.

I remonstrated with him on the shamefully neglected state of the shores

of the lake, which contained the finest pasture-grounds, and might yield

an immense quantity of rice and cotton. He entered with spirit into all

my proposals; but in a short time all was forgotten. He listened with

delight to what little historical knowledge I had of these countries,

and inquired particularly whether Kánem had really been in former times

a mighty kingdom, or whether it would be worth retaking. It was in

consequence of these conversations that he began to take an interest in

the former history of the country, and that the historical records of

Edrís Alawóma came to light; but he would not allow me to take them into

my hands, and I could only read over his shoulders. He was a very

religious man; and though he admired Europeans very much on account of

their greater accomplishments, he was shocked to think that they drank

intoxicating liquors. However, I tried to console him by telling him

that, although the Europeans were also very partial to the fair sex, yet

they did not indulge in this luxury on so large a scale as he did, and

that therefore he ought to allow them some other little pleasure.

He was very well aware of the misery connected with the slave-trade; for

on his pilgrimage to Mekka, in the mountainous region between Fezzán and

Ben-Gházi he had lost, in one night, forty of his slaves by the extreme

cold, and he swore that he would never take slaves for sale, if he were

to travel again. But it was more difficult to make him sensible of the

horrors of slave-hunting, although, when accompanying him on the

expedition to Músgu, I and Mr. Overweg urged this subject with more

success, as the further progress of my narrative will show. He was very

desirous to open a commerce with the English, although he looked with

extreme suspicion upon the form of articles in which the treaty was

proposed to be drawn up; but he wished to forbid to Christians the sale

of two things, viz. spirituous liquors and bibles. He did not object to

bibles being brought into the country, and even given as presents; but

he would not allow of their being sold. But the difficulties which I had

to contend with in getting the treaty signed will be made more

conspicuous as my narrative proceeds.

The most pressing matter which I had with the vizier in the first

instance, after my arrival, was to obtain some money, in order to

settle, at least partly, the just claims of the late Mr. Richardson’s

servants, and to clear off debts which reflected little credit on the

government which had sent us. I could scarcely expect that he would lend

me the money without any profit, and was therefore glad to obtain it at

the rate of 1000 cowries, or kúngona as they are called in Bórnu, for a

dollar, to be paid in Fezzán; and I lost very little by the bargain, as

the creditors, well aware of the great difficulty I was in, and

acknowledging my desire to pay them off, agreed to receive for every

dollar of the sum which they claimed, only 1280 cowries, while in the

market the dollar fetched a much higher price. Indeed it was most

grateful to my feelings to be enabled, on the 13th of April, to

distribute among the eight creditors 70,000 shells; and it was the more

agreeable, as the more arrogant among them, seeing my extreme poverty,

had assumed a tone of great insolence towards me, which I found it

difficult to support in silence. Being now relieved a little in

circumstances, I immediately rid myself of the carpenter, the

grandiloquent Son of Jerusalem, and sent him away. He died on the road

before reaching Múrzuk—a fact which the natives attributed to the curse

which I had given him for having stolen something from my house.

My household now became more comfortable. Already, on the 10th of April,

late in the evening, I had removed my quarters from the large empty

courtyard in the eastern town, or billa gedíbe, to a small clay house in

the western, or billa futébe.

This dwelling consisted of several small but neatly-made rooms, and a

yard. Afterwards we succeeded in obtaining in addition an adjoining

yard, which was very spacious, and included several thatched huts; and

all this together formed “the English house,” which the sheikh was kind

enough to concede to the English mission as long as anybody should be

left there to take care of it.

Its situation was very favourable, as will be seen from the plan a few

pages further on, being situated almost in the middle of the town, and

nevertheless out of the way of the great thoroughfares; the internal

arrangement is shown in the annexed woodcut.

[Illustration:

1. Segífa, or “soró chínnabe,” into which a person coming from the

small yard before the house first enters through the principal gate.

In the corner there is a spacious clay bench, “dágali,” raised three

feet from the ground.

2. Small open courtyard, with a very fine chédia or caoutchouc-tree

(3.), in which we had generally a troop of monkeys, while at the

bottom a couple of squirrels (_Sciurus_) were living in a hole.

4. A second courtyard with a henhouse. (5.)

6. Inner segífa, where, in the beginning, the servants loitered, and

which was afterwards changed into a simple dining-room. Here generally

the water-jars were kept.

7. Small courtyard, with water-jar.

8. Inner room, where I used to live, and afterwards Mr. Vogel.

9. Inner large courtyard, where, in the corner, the kitchen was

established.

10. Room with a large claybank, where Mr. Overweg used to recline in

the daytime.

11. Bedroom of Mr. Overweg, and afterwards of the Sappers, Corporal

Church and Macguire.

12. Small back courtyard.

13. Storeroom.

14. Outer enclosure of great courtyard in the beginning of our

residence in Kúkawa. This wall we afterwards pulled down, when we

obtained a very large yard for our horses and cattle. We, at times,

had six horses and five or six cows.

15. Very large well-built conical hut, with clay wall and thatched

roof. In the interior there were two spacious raised claybanks of the

kind called “dágali.” and “zinzin,” and in the background a raised

recess, separated by a wall two feet high, for luggage or corn. This

hut I occupied during my last stay in Kúkawa after my return from

Timbúktu, when I built in front of it a large shed with that sort of

coarse mats called síggedí.

16. Hut occupied by Maʿadi, a liberated slave, first in the service of

Mr. Richardson, afterwards in that of Mr. Overweg, and lastly, Mr.

Vogel’s head servant. Having been wounded in the service of the

expedition, a small pension has been granted to him.

17. Hut occupied by another servant.

18. Place for our cattle.

19. A well. The sandy soil, as I have said, obliged us to change the

place of our well very often, and we had great trouble in this

respect.

20. A clayhouse which, during the latter part of our stay, fell to

ruins.]

I immediately took possession of the room No. 8., which, although very

small, was altogether the best, and was very cool during the hot hours

of the day. Mr. Vogel too, when he afterwards arrived, immediately fixed

upon this room. There was a most splendid kórna-tree in the neighbouring

courtyard, which spread its shade over the terrace of this room, and

over part of the small courtyard in front of it. In our own yard we had

only a very fine specimen of a chédia or caoutchouc-tree (in the first

yard, No. 3.), which was afterwards a little damaged by Mr. Overweg’s

monkeys, besides two very small kórna-trees in the great yard around the

huts Nos. 16 and 17. Having thus made myself as comfortable as possible,

I began without delay to dig a well in the small court before the house,

as we had to fetch the water from another well at some distance, which

was much used by the people. My attempt caused some amusement to the

vizier, who soon heard of it, and recognised in it a feature of the

European character; for digging a well is no small undertaking in

Kúkawa, although water is to be found at only nine fathoms depth; for

the ground, consisting of loose sand under an upper thin layer of clay,

is very apt to fall in, while the slender boughs with which the shaft is

upheld, offer but little resistance. We had a great deal of trouble with

our well, not only in constantly repairing it, but in the course of our

stay we were thrice obliged to change the spot and dig a new well

altogether. We should have been glad to set an example to the natives by

building up our shaft with bricks; but with our scanty means, or rather

our entire want of means, we could scarcely think of undertaking such a

costly work. At a later period Mr. Overweg found a layer of shell lime

in a spot of our courtyard, and got our house neatly whitewashed. The

great point in this place is to protect oneself against the countless

swarms of fleas which cover the ground, the best preservative being

considered a frequent besmearing of the walls and the floor with

cowdung. The large white ant too is most troublesome; and sugar

particularly is kept with difficulty from its voracious attacks. Our

rooms swarmed also with bugs, “bermáde,” but I am almost afraid that we

ourselves imported them with our books. The bug, however, in Bórnu is

not regarded as that nasty insect which creates so much loathing in

civilized countries; on the contrary the native thinks its smell

aromatic.

Travels and discoveries in North and Central Africa, Vol. 2 (of 5) · 第 18 / 43 段