the place sending me a sheep, besides corn for the horses, and our hosts
preparing a fowl for myself, and several dishes of hasty-pudding, with
fish-sauce, for my people. The evening being clear, and illuminated by
splendid moonlight, I sat a long time outside—perhaps too long, in my
precarious state of health—enjoying the sound of music and dancing which
came from the opposite quarter of the village; but I was not a little
astonished when I heard from my young friend, whom I asked why he did
not go to join in the merriment, that it was not an ordinary amusement,
but a religious dance to celebrate the death of an old man: for if a
person in old age dies, his death is deemed a cause of satisfaction and
mirth, while that of a young one is lamented with tears.
I have already noticed some peculiar customs of the Marghí; but I must
say a few words about their curious ordeal on the holy granite rock of
Kóbshi. When two are litigating about a matter, each of them takes a
cock which he thinks the best for fighting; and they go together to
Kóbshi. Having arrived at the holy rock, they set their birds
a-fighting, and he whose cock prevails in the combat is also the winner
in the point of litigation. But more than that, the master of the
defeated cock is punished by the divinity, whose anger he has thus
provoked; and on returning to his village he finds his hut in flames.
It is evident that this tribe, as well as many of the neighbouring ones,
venerate their forefathers, in which respect they closely resemble the
South African tribes, although the Berbers also seem originally to have
had this sort of worship as well as the Háusa people. The Marghí do not
practise circumcision; but, what seems very remarkable, they practise
inoculation for the small pox, at least to a considerable extent.
As I was sitting outside the courtyard, by degrees a great many natives
collected round me, when a young man took me aside and entreated me
earnestly to give him a remedy against the dislike of people. I,
however, soon succeeded in making him confess that he meant only the
dislike of one girl, who, he said, did not relish his haughty demeanour,
and that he was reduced to a state of desperation, and wished for
nothing but to die in battle. This example shows that even these simple
people have some sentiment of love.
[Sidenote: Saturday, July 12th.]
I had some difficulty in persuading Bíllama to leave this hospitable
place; but I was ashamed to cause these good people, who had been robbed
and despoiled a short time ago by Kashélla ʿAlí, any more trouble. We
took a more easterly path than that by which we had travelled before,
but nearly of the same character—full of holes and crevices, and covered
with thick forest, while the nutritive root “katakírri” employed the
several members of our caravan continually, particularly a Púllo pilgrim
from the far west near the coast, who was indefatigable in digging as
well as in eating. We had only proceeded a few miles when we met a troop
of Marghí, who were going to perform a sacrifice in the holy grove of
Íssege, one of them carrying a sheep and another a fowl. One of them had
ornamented his shield with red lines, which on the black ground of the
elephant’s hide were quite becoming; but I do not think that this custom
is general: perhaps it had some connection with the sacrifice.
[Illustration]
After a march of eight hours, we reached the first cluster of huts of
the Northern Molghoy, where we wished to find quarters; but the
unfortunate people, by the recent exactions and contributions levied on
them by the Kanúri, were driven to a state of despair, and obstinately
refused to receive us. There remained, therefore, no alternative but to
continue our march, and to try to reach Yerímarí; but the effort was too
much for me, and had the worst consequences in my reduced state of
health. I was for some time quite senseless when, after a ride of
thirteen hours, I succeeded in reaching the well-known place, and threw
myself flat upon the ground of my little hut. Scarcely had my luggage
arrived, when a storm, which the whole afternoon had been hanging over
our heads, broke forth, and continued till midnight with unabated
violence.
Man as well as beast was so exhausted that we remained here the
following day, when I felt strength enough to walk out a little into the
fields. There was an extraordinary difference between the advanced state
in which I had left the crops in Ádamáwa and that in which I found them
here. The reader will remember that the fields round this place were
just being sown on the day of my leaving it; and during the time of my
absence rain must have been rather scanty, so that the crops were
scarcely twenty inches above the ground. In the afternoon, Bíllama, who
was always obliging, gave me some information with regard to the
adjacent country, which I shall here insert in a note[144], though it is
not so clear as might be desired.
[Sidenote: Monday, July 14th.]
We continued our march, and, with a halt during the hot hours, reached
Ujé Kasúkulá in the evening. The aspect of the country offered
unmistakable proof of our advance northwards. Even the grass here was
barely an inch or two above the ground; the crops, where most advanced,
were ten or twelve inches high, while other fields were still covered
with the tunfáfia, or _Asclepias gigantea_,—a sure proof that they had
not yet been brought under cultivation. We passed a good many cotton-
fields. I reached the place in a state of the utmost exhaustion, and was
obliged to stay here three days to recruit my strength, taking hardly
any food but quinine, and placing a plaster of cantharides on my chest.
The governor of the place, Kashélla ʿAlí Aláwó, treated my party very
hospitably and kindly, and showed sincere compassion for my feeble
condition. I learnt from him, to my great satisfaction, that Mr. Overweg
had really embarked in the boat on the Tsád, and was gone to the
Búdduma.
[Sidenote: Friday, July 18th.]
At length we set out again; but though I felt a little better, I was
glad when, after a short march of three hours through a very pleasant
and populous country, we took up our quarters in a place called Gúlfo, a
great proportion of the inhabitants of which are Shúwa. Having passed
the hot hours in a spacious and cool hut, I enjoyed for a while the
freshness of the evening outside, in my courtyard, delighted at the same
time by the sight of the herds of cattle returning from their pastures.
Shortly before we reached Gúlfo we had passed a village entirely
inhabited by Shúwa, and even called Shúwarám.
Though we had now reached the monotonous alluvial plains of Bórnu
Proper, yet the following day’s march in the company of my friend
Bíllama, who, after we had become better acquainted, was anxious to
gratify my desire for information in every respect, was highly
interesting. Although the vegetation was very poor in comparison with
that of the more southern districts, yet there was plenty of underwood,
and we observed the small bush called “kúmkum,” the berries of which
taste very like coffee, and which in reality may be a kind of _Coffea_.
On our right we left a path leading by Yámaké, Tangállanda, and Kirbáje,
to Kabé-Ngáwa, a place famous on account of its neighbourhood affording
the “fógo”—wood from which the shields (ngáwa) of the Kánembú are made:
it lies on the road to Díkowa, passing by a place called Ájowa. The
spears of the natives (kasékka) are made from the root of the kindíl or
talha, but the javelin (béllam) from that of the kúrna; the shafts of
arrows are made from the “kabílla”-bush, which hereabouts grows in great
abundance. Cultivated and pasture-ground alternately succeeded each
other, and I was astonished to see that the produce of this district was
exclusively argúm móro, or _Pennisetum_, while ngáberi, or _Holcus
sorghum_, is a much more general grain in Bórnu, with the exception of
the country of the Koyám. A little before eleven o’clock we finished our
day’s march in a small village called Múnghono-Mabé, where I took
possession of a large hut constructed in the peculiar style of the
Shúwa, the roof being of an oval shape, without the characteristic top
or head the “kogí ngímbe,” and supported by a pole, “dúngulis,” in the
middle of the hut, while the thatch is made in a very irregular and
hasty manner, the compactness of wickerwork being insufficiently
supplied by a heap of reeds thrown upon the roof and fastened with
ropes.
[Sidenote: Sunday, July 20th.]
I felt much better; and after a beautiful moonlight night, we started
earlier than usual, “dúnia kéte.” The morning was very fine; but the sun
soon became rather powerful and troublesome. We passed a considerable
pool of stagnant water surrounded by fine trees, tamarinds and
sycamores, such as in this district, where stunted mimosas form the
predominant feature of the vegetation, are only seen in very favoured
spots; it is called “kulúgu Hámtigu.” On the path itself also, deeply
cut as it was in the sandy soil, there was a good deal of water. We
passed the site of a large town named Dóngo, which had been destroyed by
the Fúlbe or Felláta some forty years ago, but of which the
circumference of the wall was still visible, the gate being marked by a
colossal monkey-bread tree or _Adansonia_, the constant follower of
human society, spreading its gigantic branches out like an immense
candelabrum. Bíllama brought me the berries of a bush called “búlte,”
the taste of which was very much like currants; and further on he
presented me with a “fitó,” a red fruit looking exactly like red pepper,
with numbers of small kernels, and of a somewhat acidulous taste.
We rested a little more than three hours, during the heat of the day,
near a pond of stagnant water, in a district rich in pastures, where,
among numerous herds of the Shúwa, the cattle of Háj Beshír were also
grazing. But the ground hereabouts seemed to be nothing but one
continuous world of ants, which did not allow us a moment’s undisturbed
repose, and even during our short stay they made several successful
attacks not only upon part of our luggage, but even of my dress.
When we set out again, at an early hour in the afternoon, numerous pools
of water along the road testified to the presence of the rainy season;
and the village Máska, which we passed soon afterwards, was surrounded
with corn and cotton-fields as well as by rich green pasture-grounds.
The path was well frequented. We met first a horseman of the sheikh sent
as a messenger to Ujé, with the order to call in the numerous horse of
that district; and Bíllama was of opinion that his master had thoughts
of arranging the affairs of Khadéja. Further on we met a troop of Shúwa
women, who, in a mournful song, lamented the death of one of their
companions. They passed us too rapidly to allow the words of their song
to be distinctly heard.
The country on our left, and that on our right, showed a remarkable
contrast; for while, on our left, corn-fields, fine pasture-grounds, and
villages succeeded each other, on the right an immense ghadír, or fírki,
still dry, and only sparingly covered here and there with a little
coarse herbage, stretched out to an immeasurable distance. At an early
hour in the afternoon, deviating a little from the path, we turned into
the village of Káliluwá Grémarí, which belongs to ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, the
second brother of Sheikh ʿOmár, and found the male inhabitants of the
village sitting in the shade of a chédia or caoutchouc-tree, busily
employed in making wickerwork. However, they proved too clearly that we
had entered the inhospitable zone in the neighbourhood of the capital;
observing, with great coolness, that the sun was as yet high, and would
enable us still to make a good march to some other place, they would
hear nothing of our quartering in their village. But Bíllama was not the
man to be laughed at; and, riding through the midst of them, he took
possession for me of one of the best huts. I could not, in truth,
approve of this despotical mode of dealing; but I was too weak to run
the risk of spending a night in my tent on the damp ground. The
villagers seemed to be drained to the utmost by their gracious lord, and
did not possess a single cow; even fowls were scarcely to be seen.
In the evening I was greatly amused, at first, by the noisy hum of a
“mákaranchí,” or school, close to my hut, where, round a large fire,
some six or seven boys were repeating, at the highest pitch of their
voices, and with utter disregard of the sense, a few verses of the
Kurán, which in the daytime they had been taught to read by their
master, who, doubtless, understood them as little as the boys
themselves; but by degrees the noise became almost insupportable. It is
generally thought in Europe, that a schoolboy is too much tormented; but
these poor African boys, for the little they learn, are worried still
more—at least, I have often found them in the cold season, and with
scarcely a rag of a shirt on, sitting round a miserable fire as early as
four o’clock in the morning, learning their lessons. Besides, they have
to perform all sorts of menial service for the master, and are often
treated no better than slaves.
[Sidenote: Monday, July 21st.]
The country which we passed in the morning presented more pasture-
grounds than cultivated lands; and after a little while I turned, with
my companion, out of our path, to the left, towards a small encampment
or “berí Shúwabe” of the Kohálemí, a Shúwa or Arab tribe, where, for
three large beads, called “nejúm,” we bought a little fresh milk. On
this occasion I learned from Bíllama, that the Shúwa or native Arabs
settled in the district of Ujé belong to the tribe of the Sáraji, while
the Sugúla and the Sálamát have their camping-grounds further east.
The country became rather dreary, black “fírki”-ground and sandy soil
alternately succeeding each other; and traffic there was none. But when
we reached the well of Maira, a considerable place which we passed on
our left hand, the path became animated from an interesting cause, a
whole village or “berí” of wandering Arabs passing through in search of
fresh pasture-grounds to the west. Each mistress of a family was sitting
on the top of her best household furniture, which was carefully packed
on the backs of the cattle, and covered with hides, while a female slave
followed her, sitting astride on the less valuable gear and the poles
with pots and other such utensils; but, distinguished above all by the
harness of her bullock, the neat arrangement of her seat, a leather
tent-like covering over her head, and the stoutness of her own person,
sat the wife of the chief. Most of these women, however, were rather
slender than otherwise, testifying to the sound and well-preserved
national taste of these Arabs. They never veil the face, and their dress
is simple and decent; but they are not nearly so tidy as the Fulfúlde
ladies. Most of the men followed at a great distance with the flocks of
goats and sheep.
When this interesting procession had passed by, the monotony of the
country was more intensely felt. The proud Kanúri of the towns mock the
inhabitants of these districts, who have nothing but a few cattle and
goats, with the verse: “Sémma bíllani—berí kaní” (“This is the whole of
my town—cattle and goats;” or, in other words, “The town and moat, two
cows and a goat”). The poor stunted mimosas had been cut down in many
places, in order that the whole tract being changed into a quagmire or
swamp, it might be sown with the peculiar kind of holcus called
“másakwá” (_Holcus cernuus_); and then these black, dismal-looking
plains become one field of life and wealth. This remarkable change in
the aspect of the country, and this second harvest, which takes place in
the middle of the cold season, and by which the fírki, or fírgi, becomes
a fírgi mosogábe (másakwábe), I shall have to describe in another place.
We then entered a well-cultivated and thickly-inhabited district called
Yelé, where it was a novelty to be obliged to draw water from the well
or barrem Yelé; for since reaching Ujé on our journey out we had
constantly met waterpools or small rivulets, from which we took our
supply, and even the well at Maira was rendered quite superfluous by a
large tank close by. However, I have already had occasion to observe
that the water from these stagnant pools is anything but wholesome,
particularly after the rainy season, when they receive no further
supply; and I have no doubt that the drinking of such water is the
principal, if not the only cause of that dreadful and wide-spread
disease (the “fárantít” or “ʿarúg”—“ngíduwí” in Kanúri—“the misery”)
which disables the working man, and makes him a poor wretched being—the
guineaworm, which is sure to be met with in at least one out of three
persons who travel a great deal, through the whole of Central Africa. I
never met with an instance of this disease in a woman. It seemed to me,
too, as if the pagans, whose nakedness exposed all their limbs to view,
suffered less from it.
There seemed to be no superfluous supply of water in the district
through which our road then lay, which appeared as dry as I had left it,
only thinly scattered and lonely blades of grass shooting up here and
there; but yet there was a favoured spot where the road from Márte to
Alárge crossed our path, adorned with fine, wide-spreading tamarind-
trees, and rain-clouds were approaching from the east to fertilize the
soil, and make it capable of production. We therefore hurried on, and
took shelter in the village Mʿallem-Shíshi, in order to let the storm
pass over; our hut, however, was so incapable of resisting heavy rain,
that as soon as the storm broke out we were almost swamped. The
carelessness with which the houses of the natives are built in this
region is an unmistakable evidence of the difference of the climate; on
the other side, we have seen the neat huts of the people of Fúmbiná, and
we shall see those of the despised pagan natives of Músgu. The people
assured me that this was the first regular rain which they had had this
year, the first preparatory shower having fallen thirty days ago, and
the second two days ago.
The clouds having taken a southerly direction, we started forth in the
afternoon, after some hesitation, but had scarcely been an hour on the
march, and were just in the middle of a wide dismal-looking ghadír or
fírki, when the clouds, having gathered again over our heads, poured
down violent torrents of rain, so that in a few moments the whole
country looked like a lake, and our progress was excessively difficult.
At length, after an hour and a half, in the most uncomfortable state we
reached the village Kiryúmmuwa, where I was quartered in a rather
magnificent but as yet unfinished hut of clay, and endeavoured to dry my
wet clothes as well as I could.
We were now only one day’s march from Kúkawa; and we started early the
next morning, in order to reach home before night. The neighbourhood of
the capital had been sufficiently indicated already during the last
day’s march by the dúm-bushes, which, with the melancholy _Asclepias
gigantea_, might well decorate the scutcheon of Kúkawa—with more
justice, indeed, than the kúka, or monkey-bread tree, from which the
name was taken, but of which but a few poor stunted specimens are to be
seen in the courtyard of the palace in the eastern town.
We had scarcely gone a mile when we met the first body of Shúwa, men and
women, who were returning with their unloaded pack-oxen from the great
Monday market of the capital; and then the string of market-people on
their way to their respective homes was almost uninterrupted. While our
people followed the road, Bíllama and I turned off a little to the left,
in order to pay a visit to the mayor of Múnghono and obtain a cool
drink; for since I had had the fever I suffered greatly from thirst, and
the water from the wells in general, as preserving a mean temperature of
about 80 degrees, was quite tepid. The place lies in an elevated
position; and on its south side there is a hollow, where wheat and
onions are cultivated after the rainy season, while another cavity
surrounding it on the north and east sides, and where at present only
small separate water-pools are collecting, forms, later in the season,
one continuous lake. There is a great deal of iron-stone, “kau súwa,”
hereabouts; and it is used by the native blacksmiths, though it affords
but an inferior sort of metal—far inferior to the excellent iron, the
“sú-búltu,” of Búbanjídda. While passing through the place, I was
greatly struck with the variety which the roofs of the huts exhibited,
and made a slight sketch of them.
[Illustration]
Múnghono, which is likewise the name of the whole district, has been a
place of importance from early times, and is often mentioned in the
history of the Bórnu kings. After the richness of natural forms which I
had beheld in Ádamáwa, the country seemed extremely monotonous, there
being nothing whatever to cheer the eye except the blossom of the
mimosas, which spread a sweet scent all around. We encamped during the
hot hours of the day near the well of Káine, where we had great
difficulty in supplying ourselves with water from the well, while a
little later in the season a large lake is formed here: for Africa is
the region of contrasts as well in nature as in human life.
When we set out again from this place, people from the town, who had
been informed of our approach, came to meet us; and I heard, to my great
satisfaction, that the crafty Arab Mohammed el Mughárbi, whom I had
already met in Gúmmel, had at length arrived with the merchandise
confided to his care, the nominal value of which was 100_l._ sterling,
so that there was at least some hope of being able to carry on the
mission on a small scale.
But I could not but feel pleased with my reception on returning to head
quarters in this part of the world; for when we approached the southern
gate of the town, three horsemen, who were stationed there, came
galloping up to me, and having saluted me with their spears raised,
placed themselves in front, and in stately procession led me through the
town to my house, where I was soon regaled with a plentiful supper sent
by the vizier. I afterwards perceived that he had expected me to pay him
my respects the same evening; but, as I felt very weak, I deferred the
visit till the next morning, when, on his return from an early visit to
the sheikh, he gave me an audience in the presence of all the people.
Having expressed his sorrow at my reduced state, and having inquired how
I had been received in Ádamáwa, he entered, with apparent delight, into
a long conversation with me respecting the form of the earth and the
whole system of the world. On being asked what I now intended to do, I
replied that it was my design, after having made the tour of the lake,
to try to penetrate into the regions south of Bagírmi. He immediately
expressed his doubts as to the possibility of going round the lake as
far as the Bahar el Ghazál, but promised to further my plans as far as
possible, although he thought that I had done enough already, and should
rather think of returning home safely with the results of my labours;
for seeing me so weak during the first rainy season which I was spending
in these regions, he was afraid that something might happen to me.
Well satisfied with this audience, I returned to my quarters and wrote a
short report to H.M.’s government, of the results of my journey,
informing them that my most deeply-cherished hopes with regard to that
river in the south had been surpassed, and requesting them to send an
expedition in order to verify its identity with the so-called Chadda.
This report, which was sent off by a courier a day or two before Mr.
Overweg’s return from his navigation of the lake, and which was
overtaken by a messenger with a short account of his survey, created
general satisfaction in Europe, and procured for me the confidence of
H.M.’s government. Meanwhile I endeavoured to arrange the pecuniary
affairs of the mission as well as I could.
[Footnote 140: In this sketch, made just at the moment, I aimed only at
giving the outlines of the mount, without any pretension to represent
the country around. The foreground, therefore, is left quite level.]