Chapter VII (2)

On the 11th we arrived at Showy, after a very tedious march, and losing our way for three hours: the woods are, indeed, most intricate and difficult; and as all the Shouaas had moved up towards Barca Gana, we could get no guides. We saw five _giraffees_ (cameleopards) to-day, to my great delight; they were the first I had seen alive, and notwithstanding my fatigue and the heat, Bellal and myself chased them for half an hour: we kept within about twenty yards of them. They have a very extraordinary appearance from their being so low behind, and move awkwardly, dragging, as it were, their hinder legs after them: they are not swift, and unlike any figure of them I ever met with. Passing the Shary was attended with very great difficulty; the stream was extremely rapid, and our horses and camels were carried away from the sides of the canoe, to which they were lashed: we lost a camel by this passage; these animals have a great dislike to water, and after swimming a stream are often seized with illness, and are carried off in a few hours.

July 12.—Left Showy, and once more found ourselves at Maffatai. The rest, and fish bazeen, with which we were here regaled, with the deep shade of Burmah’s spacious mansion, greatly recovered us. The skin of my face all came off, and I slept nearly the whole day after our arrival: the sun, rain, flies, and musquitoes, altogether had fatigued me more than any former journey.

On the 15th we pursued our route homeward by a new course, and halted close to the Gambalarum, on the ground the Begharmis had escaped over, after their rencontre with the sheikh: the ground was strewed with skeletons.

July 16.—After a long and fatiguing march we reached some Felatah huts, about sunset. The water, after crossing Maffatai, is all sad muddy stuff; and the nearer you approach Angornou, the blacker the soil is, and the worse it becomes. We to-day crossed the Molee, a small stream which runs to the Tchad. The whole of this road, indeed the whole country from Angala, is an inclined plane towards the Great Lake, and during the rains it is impassable: they were now every where sowing their grain, and in many places they were reaping the Indian corn. Since leaving Maffatai, we had nothing besides a little rice, to which I added a duck or two, which I made it part of my business to search after, and shoot.

July 17.—We this day reached Angornou, very much fatigued with our journey; we had a drenching night of it, and crept into our friend Abdi Nibbe’s hut, with great joy: the worst of these storms were that they spoiled the only meal we could get time to cook in the twenty-four hours; and our tents, which rarely withstood the blasts, on falling, exposed all our stores as well as ourselves to the pelting of the storm.

On my arrival again at Kouka I found that Captain Clapperton, with a small kafila, had returned from Soudan: it was nearly eight months since we had separated, and although it was midday I went immediately to the hut where he was lodged; but so satisfied was I that the sun-burnt sickly person that lay extended on the floor, rolled in a dark blue shirt, was not my companion, that I was about to leave the place, when he convinced me of my error, by calling me by my name: the alteration in him was certainly most striking. Our meeting was a melancholy one: he had buried his companion, and I had also closed the eyes of my younger and more robust colleague, Mr. Toole. Notwithstanding the state of weakness in which I found Captain Clapperton, he yet spoke of returning to Soudan after the rains.

July 28.—I had now determined on proceeding by Woodie to Kanem, and approaching as near as possible to Tangalia, the spot where I had left Barca Gana, when I had passed by the southern extremity of the lake; and if I succeeded, and returned before the departure of the kafila after the Aid Kebir, I fostered a hope of retracing my steps across the desert, with all the satisfaction of a man who had accomplished to the full the duties that had been assigned him. Yagah Menamah, the chief eunuch of the sheikh’s favourite wife, came to me soon after daylight, and presented me with two _kansara_, or fly-flappers, made of the tail of the camelopard; and in her name said that she had burnt salt for my departure, praying that neither the devil nor any of his imps might be able to play me any malicious tricks on my journey. The sheikh had consented to Mr. Tyrwhitt’s remaining as consul: and on my inquiring whether he would protect one or two English merchants, if they came to his country—“Certainly: why not?” said he, “and assist them to the extent of my power; but they must be small traders, or the journey will never pay them.” He expressed his wish to write to the king, and added, “whatever I can do in Soudan, remember I am ready. I have influence there certainly, which may increase, and probably shortly extend to Nyffé. As to yourself, I shall write to beg the king will send you here, with any English whom he may wish to visit Bornou. You are known, and might now go any where in Bornou without fear. Even the Shouaas on the frontiers, and the Duggenah, all know Rais Khaleel: but this has not been done hastily; you have been nearly eighteen months amongst us, and you remember when you could not go to Angornou without inconvenience. I then thought you would never be as much at liberty here as you are. Time and yourself may be thanked for this, not me; for I could not, by any orders I might have given, have done for you what your mixing freely with the people, and gaining their good will, has brought about—and yet you are a Christian!”

July 30.—This morning the sheikh sent to Mr. Clapperton, Mr. Hillman, and myself, as a present, a very fine camel, a horse, and two water-skins, two leopard skins, and two dressed-leather sacks. In the course of the morning another cargo was brought to me, consisting of eight elephants’ tusks, with the horns of three other animals. The horns were, first, the maremah, a long horn similar to one I had seen at Kabshary—the animal has two, bending backwards at the point; kirkadan, a two-horned animal; another animal, with one long horn and a second shorter just above it, nearly between the eyes of the animal, was described to me as having, on the sheikh’s late expedition to Gulphi, carried a man and horse, spiked on his horn, more than one hundred yards, when, frightened by the cries of the people, he dropped them, and made his escape: the man was unhurt, but the horse died.

Aug. 6.—This was the Aide Kebir, the principal feast of the Mussulmans during the year, in commemoration of God’s staying the hand of Abraham in the place Jehovah-jireh, when about to sacrifice his son Isaac: all who can muster a sheep or a goat kill it on this day, after prayers. The sheikh sent the day before, to know if we kept the feast; and when we met, repeated his question. I replied, that we believed the interposition of the Divine Power in saving Isaac to be a signal proof of God’s mercy and love to all his creatures; “for remember,” said I, “he is the God of many, not of Mussulmans alone; and that our father Abraham’s great and implicit faith in the existence of that mercy, was what obtained for him all the blessings God promised him.”

He sent us two very fine sheep, and we killed and feasted with the rest. Early in the morning, the sheikh, with his sons and all his court, mounted, according to custom, to welcome the Aid, by praying outside the town, and firing and skirmishing on their return: the assembly was not so large as on former occasions, in consequence of the absence of the chiefs in Kanem; indeed every thing went off extremely flat, owing to the defeat of the sheikh’s people. Contrary to custom, no presents were made by him, and no dresses were distributed to the slaves: instead of the glossy new tobes which on former occasions shone on the persons of the footmen who ran by the side of his horse, they were now clothed with torn, discoloured ones, and every thing wore the appearance of gloom and disgrace. On these days, the custom is also for the women to assemble, dressed in all their finery, in the street, before the doors of their huts, and scream a salutation to the passing chiefs: it was one of the best parts of the ceremony, but this year it was omitted. The sheikh, whose unamiable trait was, as I have before observed, visiting the weaknesses of the female part of his subjects with too great severity, had, during my absence, given an order which would have disgraced the most absolute despot that ever sat on a throne: the gates of his town were kept shut at daylight one morning, and his emissaries despatched, who bound and brought before him sixty women who had a bad reputation; five were sentenced to be hanged in the public market, and four to be flogged; which latter punishment was inflicted with such severity, that two expired under the lash. Those who were doomed to death, after being dragged, with their heads shaved, round the market on a public day, with a rope round their necks, were then strangled, and thrown, by twos, into a hole previously prepared, in the most barbarous manner. This diabolical act, for it deserves no better name, armed all tongues against him. The Bornouese, who are a humane and forgiving people, shuddered at so much cruelty: and so much influence had the ladies in general with their husbands, that more than a hundred families quitted Kouka, (to which place they were before daily flocking), to take up their abodes in other towns where this rigour did not exist. In Kouka, they declared there was no living, where only to be suspected was sufficient to be doomed to a cruel and ignominious death; and where malicious spies converted “trifles light as air, into confirmation strong.” Those who remained, though the women of his particular attendants, refused flatly to scream him a welcome, and the procession passed through the streets in silence.

Aug. 7.—I was now on the eve of departing for Kanem, to proceed by Woodie to the north-east of the lake. Mr. Clapperton had been ill with sore legs and an attack of dysentery, but was better. Mohammed Bousgayey, an Arab, who left this place with Doctor Oudney and Mr. Clapperton, came to my hut: he had gone on from Kano, with four or five Arabs, to Yeouri and to Nyffé, and had stayed some time at a place called Gusgey on the Quolla, two days west-south-west nearly, from Yeouri. The Quolla he described to be here as wide as to the market outside the walls and back, which must have been nearly two miles: they were all kaffirs, he said, but not bad people. The sultan Mahmoud had several hundred guns, and powder, which were brought from the _bahr kebir_ (great water), and _arrack_ (rum), in plenty; which was brought in large glass bottles. At eight days distance only from Yeouri, large boats came to a place called Yearban, but it is not on the _bahr kebir_. Katungah is the great port, which is at some distance: to both of these places people he called Americans came; they were white, and Christians: they always demand gum arabic and male slaves, for which they will pay as high as sixty and seventy dollars each. Sultan Mahmoud produced to him two books, which he said were like mine; and told him, that a man, whose beard was white, had lived nearly three years with no money; that he wished to go, but had no means, and that he died. Bousgayey said the sultan had offered him the book; which he refused, as he did not know what he could do with it; but that now he was going back, and should bring it.

In the afternoon we went to pay our respects to the sheikh, in honour of the feast. He received us but coolly: and I was scarcely seated on the sand, when I saw near me a little shrief from Marocco, named Hassein, who, though once or twice our friend, I was always in fear of, being aware both of his cunning and his influence. Almost the first question of the sheikh’s was, as to the distance of our country from India: and when told it was four months by sea, he said, “What could induce you to go so far from home—to find it out, and fight with the people?” We replied, “that we had plenty of ships, and were great lovers of discovery; that the French and the Dutch had been there before us; and we were always jealous of our neighbours doing more than ourselves.” “And now it is all yours,” said he, “and governed by your laws!” Our reply was, “that we only kept possession of the part near the sea—that their own laws were in full force—but that even Mussulmans often preferred the English laws to their own.” “Wonderful!” said he, “and you went at first with only a few ships, as friends?” “We are friends now,” said I, “and by trade have not only made ourselves rich, but the natives also.” “By God!” said the Marroquin, “they eat the whole country—they are no friends: these are the words of truth.” We had then a few remarks (not good-natured ones) as to the right of dictating to Algiers and the other Barbary powers. Algiers we described as unfaithful to their word, and little better than pirates.

Engraved by E. Finden.

LANCERS OF THE SULTAN OF BEGHARMI.

_Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London._]

Aug. 11.—Soon after daylight, Karouash, with Hadgi Mustapha, the chief of the Shouaas, and the sheikh’s two nephews, Hassein and Kanemy, came to our huts. Hadgi Mustapha had been one of the original four hundred who commenced the liberation of Bornou from the Felatahs. They were attended by more than a dozen slaves, bearing presents for us, for King George, and the consul at Tripoli. I had applied for a _lebida_[54], after seeing those taken from the Begharmis: the sheikh now sent a man, clothed in a yellow wadded jacket, with a scarlet cap, and mounted on the horse taken from the Begharmis, on which the sultan’s eldest son rode. He was one of the finest horses I had seen; and covered with a scarlet cloth, also wadded. “Every thing,” Hadgi Mustapha said, “except the man, is to be taken to your great king.” He also brought me twelve very beautiful tobes, of every manufacture, from Nyffé to Loggun and Waday, four parrots, and a box of zibet. For the consul he also sent six tobes, and a small box of zibet, worth thirty or forty dollars, with two parrots.

August 13.—The long expected kafila arrived from Soudan, which was a signal for our departure: they had been fifty days on the road from Kano, in consequence of the waters; and had they been delayed much longer, the season would have been so far advanced as to have prevented the departure of all those merchants that had many slaves: going, as they do, poor creatures, nearly naked, the cold of Fezzan, in the winter season, kills them by hundreds. With the Soudan kafila came Khalifa, a Moor and a fighi; he had been at Saralo, as he called Sierra Leone, and desired to be brought to me, as he knew English. He certainly knew enough to convince me of his truth, when he asserted that he had met my countrymen. “Gun, cap, and water!” he kept continually saying: and my Bornou friends were not a little surprised when I told them it was the language of my country. He spoke greatly of some person he called the Doctor[55], whom he had seen at Bammakoo and Bunjalow, a good looking man, with a red beard, and long projecting nose, with bad front teeth. He gave away many things, wrote a great deal, and was much liked by all the people. Two persons were with the Doctor, whom he believed were French, and had come from Ender; one was called Gentleman, and the other Fausta, or Forster; “but they held their heads down, and did not talk to the people like the Doctor,” said Khalifa. “The Doctor,” he said, “wanted to go to Sego, but the sultan would not allow him to come to his country, and would not even look at the presents he sent him, as he feared they had charms which would kill him, either by the sight or smell. He, however, sent him slaves, and horses, which he, the Doctor, also returned, saying that he wanted nothing but to see the country and the rivers. The sultan of Sego replied, he had heard that his (the doctor’s) king had water all round his country, and he might go and look at that. Khalifa said the Sego people were Kaffirs, and knew not God, therefore were afraid of Christians; but the Moors knew them, and liked them. When the present king of Sego’s father was alive, he, Khalifa, then a boy, remembered Christians going to D’Jennie and Timboctoo, and hearing that the Tuaricks killed them in their boat near Nyffé[56].”

On Monday, the 20th of the Mohamedan month _del Khadi_, and the 16th of August, we took our final leave of Kouka, and not without many feelings of regret, so accustomed had we become, particularly myself, to the people. In the morning I had taken leave of the sheikh in his garden, when he had given me a letter to the king, and a list of requests: he was all kindness, and said he had only one wish, which was that I might find all my friends well, and once more return to them. He gave me his hand at parting, which excited an involuntary exclamation of astonishment from the six eunuchs and Karouash, who were the only persons present.

I preceded the kafila for the following reason: I had, ever since my return from Tangalia, determined to attempt the east side of the Tchad, by Lari, previous to returning home. Many had been the objections, many the reports of danger from the Waday people and Amanook, who had now boldly forsaken the lake, and was encamped at no great distance from Barca Gana, to whom he twice paid a night visit, and had been beaten back. I, however, told the sheikh I could take no present, or promise to the execution of any commission, unless this duty was accomplished, or at least until I had done my utmost, and that I would take care not to go into danger. Bellal, my old companion, was once more appointed to attend me, and we moved with two camels, lightly laden; for the more train, always the more trouble and the more expense. All my friends then in Kouka mounted to escort me from the town: the women assembled outside the gate, and screamed an adieu; and I am persuaded our regrets were mutual.

About midnight, while we were all asleep at Dowergoo, a despatch came to say, that the skin of a camelopard had been brought to Kouka, which the sheikh had procured for me. Columbus, therefore, returned to prepare it for preservation, while we moved on to N’Gortooah: he came up again in the evening, and reported, that though small, it was a fine specimen. On Wednesday we slept at Kaleeluwha, and on the 23d came once more on the Yeou, now a considerable stream, full of water, and running towards the Tchad, at the rate of three miles an hour[57]. My feelings on seeing this river for a second time were very different to what they had been when I first looked on its waters. We then had an escort of two hundred men, and yet could not feel ourselves in perfect safety one hundred yards from our tents. Now I had only one attendant—the people about me were all natives, and I wandered about the banks of the river with perfect freedom, and slept with my tent door open, in as great security as I could have done in any part of England, had I been obliged so to travel. Other feelings also obtruded themselves; I was about to return home, to see once more dear friends, and a dear country, after an absence of nearly three years, on a duty full of perils and difficulties: two out of four of my companions had fallen victims to climate and disease, while those who remained were suffering, in no small degree, sickness and debility from the same causes: I was in health, and notwithstanding the many very trying situations, in which we had all been placed, some of them of great vexation and distress, yet had we been eminently successful.

In the afternoon Bellal accompanied me down the river, about nine miles, where, increasing in width to about one hundred yards, it flows into the Tchad, with a strong and deep current of water. On its banks are five considerable villages of Kanemboos, called Ittaquoi, Belagana, Afaden, Yeougana, and Boso. At Belagana, the sheikh has a large inclosure of huts, within a wall, where he generally has from five hundred to eight hundred slaves of both sexes, under the charge of four eunuchs, who are employed in preparing cotton, and spinning the linen (_gubbok_), of which the tobes are made.

The manner of fishing in the Yeou, a very considerable source of commerce to the inhabitants of its banks, must not be omitted: dried fish from the Yeou is carried to all the towns to the south-west, quite as far as the hills; and at this season they are usually taken in great numbers. The Bornouese make very good nets of a twine spun from a perennial plant called _kalimboa_: the implements for fishing are ingenious, though simple: two large gourds are nicely balanced, and then fixed on a large stem of bamboo, at the extreme ends; the fisherman launches this on the river, and places himself astride between the gourds, and thus he floats with the stream, and throws his net. He has also floats of cane, and weights, of small leathern bags of sand: he beats up against the stream, paddling with his hands and feet, previous to drawing the net, which, as it rises from the water, he lays before him as he sits; and with a sort of mace, which he carries for the purpose, the fish are stunned by a single blow. His drag finished, the fish are taken out, and thrown into the gourds, which are open at the top, to receive the produce of his labour. These wells being filled, he steers for the shore, unloads, and again returns to the sport.

25th.—At Woodie I met Barca Gana, Ali Gana, and Tirab, with their forces, on their return from Kanem: they had been out, some of them five months, had made the complete tour of the lake, and were in a sad plight, with scarcely thirty horses left, having literally fought their way: Amanook had twice attacked them, and had sent off all his flocks and women to Begharmi, but had not gone himself, and they were so reduced as not to be able to do any thing to prevent him. They were so badly off for every thing, that they were obliged to come down on Kanem for supplies: the people refused them any assistance, and after being half starved, they were obliged to make a running fight of it, and get home as well as they could. The Kanem people were all in a state of mutiny, and the Dugganah had gone off towards Waday. This was sorry news; Bellal wanted to turn back. I saw Barca Gana, who said, “It is dangerous, but I think you may go on if you wish it. I would give you eighteen men, but you are better without them: they expect the sheikh, and going with Bellal, wanting but little, and paying for that, for the crops have failed them, you will have little to fear; but you cannot go beyond the Bornou Kanemboos with less than one hundred men.”

Engraved by E. Finden.

MANNER OF FISHING IN THE RIVER YEOU.

_Published June 1826, by John Murray, London._]

With this advice I determined on going on, and after halting the whole of Sunday, on the 27th I proceeded. Barca Gana had, on his return, bivouacked in the wadey where once the Bahr-al-Ghazal ran from the Tchad; the valley is now filled with trees and grass. This was the fourth time Barca Gana had raised his tents in the same place[58], as the sheikh had before informed me. This valley runs between Kangara and N’Gussum, less than twenty miles from Tangalia. We were overtaken by so dreadful a storm, that we halted, and pitched the tent on a high sand-hill within five miles of N’Gygami. Near this hill we had a beautiful view of the open lake, with several floating islands, when the storm cleared away. The Biddomahs are constantly landing hereabouts; and we met some poor people who had been robbed of their whole flock of goats, with their daughter, only the day before—indeed no single travellers can pass this road. Towards evening, we saw their canoes in the offing; and below us, in the low grounds, three Biddomahs making for the lake:—they saw us, and quickened their pace. For safety we all slept outside the huts of N’Gygami: this ground is the highest part of the borders of the lake, and here deep water commences immediately off the shore, while, in some parts, miles of marsh are to be waded through previous to arriving at the lake. Tuesday, we made Lari, where we were to find a Malem fighi, whom the sheikh had ordered to proceed with us.

Aug. 29.—Moved from Lari. Here we found four men, with a chief whom Barca Gana had left at Kuskoua, returning, as the people would give them no provisions. It was near sunset when we reached Zogany, thirty miles; the country was quite a flat, covered with a plant resembling a heath which I had seen nowhere else; and in many parts I observed incrustations of trona. This heath is called kanuskin: the camels eat it; and in the neighbourhood of trona it is generally found.

Aug. 30.—After a night of intolerable misery to us all, from flies and mosquitoes, so bad as to knock up two of our blacks, we mounted and advanced; and leaving our tents, for Bellal would not carry them on, we proceeded to Garouah and Mabah;—which are full of people, and though annually pillaged by Tuaricks and Tibboo Arabs, yet still they will not quit their native soil. The character of the country here, which is different to the south or west sides of the lake, extends to Gala, where the land is again varied, and a little higher: for many miles on this side we had one continued marsh and swamp. I was at the northernmost part of the lake, and pursuing a course first to the west, and then to the eastward of south, for five or six miles, nearly up to the body of the horse in water, and with reeds and high grass overtopping our heads, I at last got a sight of the open lake. We disturbed hippopotami, buffaloes, enormous fish, and innumerable hosts of insects. At the commencement of the water it had a taste of trona, which, as we advanced, became gradually sweeter: indeed, all the people say, when you ask if this water you drink so strong of trona is the lake? _La! la! inki kora kora kitchi engobboo tilboo baco_. (No! no! the water of the great lake is very sweet, no trona).

Completely fatigued, we returned to the village of Chirgoa, near which our tents were pitched: this was a most distressing day, and we had been on our horses nearly thirteen hours. Garouah is twelve miles from Zogany, and Mabah twenty. We were some way in advance of the latter, but to Kuskoua I could not induce my guide to venture; and so many proofs had I seen, not only of his bravery, but his desire to satisfy my curiosity, that I could not doubt his fears were just. Notwithstanding our fatigue, no rest could we obtain, and another night was passed in a state of suffering and distress that defies description: the buzz from the insects was like the singing of birds; the men and horses groaned with anguish; we absolutely could not eat our paste and fat, from the agony we experienced in uncovering our heads. We at last hit upon an expedient that gave us a little relief: as they came at intervals, in swarms, we thought they might also be driven off in the same quantities; and we found, by occasionally lighting a line of fires with wet grass, to windward of our tents, that the smoke carried off millions, and left us a little at ease. I do not think our animals could have borne such another night; their legs and necks were covered with blood, and they could scarcely stand, from the state of irritation in which they had been kept for so many hours.

On Friday we returned to Lari by the lower road, where there are frequent large detached pieces of water, strongly impregnated with trona. On the road, to-day, we fell in with a tribe of the Biddomah, who had, during the last three months, taken up their abode on the sheikh’s land, and asked for what was instantly granted them, permission to remain. Internal wars cause these fallings off of one tribe from another, which the sheikh encourages: only one of their chiefs could ever be induced to proceed so far as Kouka. The sheikh takes no notice, and suffers them to do as they please: he sent them tobes, and a fighi, and desired they would learn to pray: and they are now beginning, as my guide said, to have the fear of God. They were the most savage beings I had seen in the shape of men, except the Musgowy; and we had sat some time under a tree before they would come near us. The men, until they are married, wear their hair, and collect as many beads and ornaments as they can, which they wear round their necks; their hair is long and plaited, or twisted in knots; they have ear-rings also: and this collection of beads and metal is always given to the wife on their marriage. The upper part of the face is very flat, and the eye sunk; they have large mouths, and long necks; a sulky, reserved look about them, any thing but agreeable: they have no style of salutation like other negroes, who greet strangers over and over again, sitting down by them:—these stand up, leaning on a spear, and look steadfastly at you without speaking. I gave a little boy some white beads, which were directly tied round his neck, I suppose as the commencement of his marriage portion. They, however, at length, produced some sour milk; and some of them came round my horse when I mounted, and nodded their heads at me when I rode off, which I returned, much to their amusement.

When we arrived at Lari, which was comparatively free from flies, the horses lay down, and, stretching themselves out, fell asleep in a way, and with an expression of enjoyment, I never saw animals do before, and did not look for their nose-bags until after midnight. We here found that one of Barca Gana’s people had the night before lost his horse, which had been stolen by the Biddomahs we saw on the look out.

Kanem, the most persecuted and unfortunate of negro countries, was daily becoming more miserable; they were pillaged alternately by the Fezzaneers, the Tuaricks, and the Waday people. Between the latter and the sheikh they hung for protection, and from neither could they obtain what they sought: the country was becoming abandoned, and the villages deserted, part taking refuge in Waday, and part in the sheikh’s dominions: the land communication between Bornou and Kanem was too difficult and distant, either by the south or north, for the sheikh to render them any effectual support. An army almost every year went to Kanem for this purpose, but they usually returned with the loss of horses, camels, and men, and were seldom able much to annoy their enemies, the Wadays. This year his expedition had been upon a larger scale, and his losses were greater than on any former occasion.

In consequence of the waters, which fill the rivers at this season, the ford across the Shary had become impassable, and they were therefore obliged to return home through Kanem. Not the least assistance would any of the towns give them, except Gala, and a more wretched state I never saw men in: some of the chiefs on foot, without horses; and those who were mounted, bestriding sorry animals, with torn appointments: they all said, fighting without the sheikh was useless, as he alone could lead them to victory.

Engraved by E. Finden.

ENCAMPMENT NEAR WOODIE.

AND PART OF THE LAKE TCHAD.

_Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London._]

Sept. 3.—I had now been six days at Woodie, waiting the arrival of my companions with our camels, and the kafila of merchants whom we were to accompany to Fezzan. Woodie is no very pleasant place of sojourn, as the Biddomah have a sort of agreement with the kaid to be allowed to plunder all strangers and travellers, provided the property of the inhabitants is respected. We were, however, told to be on our guard, and not without reason. Our tents were pitched near each other, and a look-out kept up the whole night, notwithstanding which they paid us a visit, during a storm of thunder and rain, and from the entrance of Bellal’s tent, only eight paces from my own, stole both his horses. Although six or seven negroes were sleeping quite close to them, they got completely off, and had an hour’s start before even the loss was discovered. Bellal pursued them, with about a dozen people, quite to the lake, tracing their footsteps in the sand, which was not difficult after the rain; but finding here that they had embarked, the pursuit was given up.

At length, however, on Tuesday the 14th, we had assembled our kafila, and we moved on towards the desert: on the 22d of September, in the afternoon, we halted half way to the well of Beere Kashifery.

Sept. 23.—We made the well soon after mid-day; and fortunately for us we brought some water with us, for the power of our friend Mina Tahr here began to appear. This well was guarded, and we were told, that until the sheikh Mina appeared, not a drop was to be drawn. It required some exertion of patience and forbearance, in a sultry oppressive day, with the thermometer at 110° in the tent, to be obliged to drink muddy water from goat skins, when a well of the best water between Kouka and Bilma was under our feet: but we were inured to hardships and contradictions, and submitted, I hope, like good Christians. Towards evening the Tahr appeared on the hills to the north-west, attended by his troop: he seemed vastly glad to see us; said “the well was ours—that our water-skins should be filled, and camels watered, before any body, and for nothing; and then,” said he, “sultan George the Great must be obliged to Mina Tahr, the wandering chief of Gunda, and that will give more pleasure to Tahr’s heart than payment: and who knows,” said he, “but when sultan George hears this, he may send me a sword?”

Sept. 24.—In consequence of the number of camels to be watered, and the large flocks of the Tibboo, it was not until the evening that our animals could drink; and even then we were almost obliged to take possession of the well by force. Our old Maraboot was struck by a spear, as well as our servants; and it was not until after I had mounted a horse and repaired to the well myself, accompanied by the Tahr, that we could complete this most important business of the day.

In the evening Tahr came for his present. I gave him a tobe from Soudan, a red cap, and a turkodie: the tobes and cap he looked at, and said, “Ah! this is very well for me; I am one, but my wives are three:—what shall I do with one turkodie?” Tahr now began a speech: he was greatly distressed that he had nothing to send sultan George. “By the head of Mustapha!” said he, “I consider him as much my master as the bashaw;—ay and more—for you say he sent you to see me, which is more than the bashaw ever did. I can send him a tiger-skin, and I will write him a letter—for Tahr’s enemies are never quiet, and he has no time to kill ostriches now. The well Beere Kashifery, whose waters are here like gold, and better than gold, and all that Kashella Tahr and the Gunda Tibboos have to give, shall always be, as long as he or his children govern, at the service of sultan George Inglesi.” He now asked for water, and began washing the ink from a paper which had previously been ornamented with a charm, drinking the dirty water, and rubbing it over his head and neck: when this was finished, he laid the paper in the sun; and I was a little amused when I found, that it was on this dirty scrap that he intended writing to king George.

Sept. 25.—In the afternoon of this day we left Beere Kashifery, taking a very hearty leave of Tahr. In order to save my camels, who had seventeen skins of water to carry in addition to their loads, as we were to be four days on our road to Aghadem, I hired a maherhy to carry two heavy boxes to Bilma, for seven dollars. The moon, which was in its first quarter, assisted us after sunset, but we were obliged to move on for at least two hours after she had sunk quietly to rest. We halted for a few hours, at a spot called Geogo Balwy (honey spot), and a little after midnight proceeded on our dreary way. There was great difference of opinion as to our route, which, probably, by following our own back bearings, we might have found better ourselves: but we were not yet quite so bold in the desert as on the main; and I insisted on the Mina Hamedee, the guide whom the sheikh had given us, being allowed his own way, and my confidence was not misplaced. By daylight on Sunday we discovered the foot-marks of the camels and slaves of Hadge-Boo-Said, a Fezzan merchant, who had absolutely been in the right track, but had turned back, and gone southerly. Numbers now exclaimed that we were wrong: there appeared, however, no sort of timidity about our guide; he looked confident, and bore the abuse that was levelled at him on all sides, with great coolness: and there was a sort of conscious ability about him that determined me to rely completely on _his_ judgment alone. No man is ever afraid of doing what he knows he can do well; and in most cases a sense of power gives confidence: so it proved with my Tibboo. We continued travelling another night and day in these most dreary wastes, with nothing but the wide expanse of sand and sky to gaze upon.

On Monday the 27th of September, a little before noon, we observed something in the distance, which had the appearance of a body of men moving towards us; but from the effect of the mirage assuming different shapes, and sometimes appearing twelve or fifteen feet above the surface of the desert, the Arabs declared it to be a Tuarick party on the forage, and all our followers loaded and prepared for action. On their approach, however, we found to our great joy that it was a kafila from Fezzan: they had been as much alarmed at us as we at them, and were all formed, in front of their camels several hundred yards, in extended order, as the Arabs always fight: they gave us some Fezzan dates, which were a great luxury; and some of the traders who were short of water exchanged a jar of butter, worth at least two dollars, for every full skin they could so purchase. They told us the road was perfectly safe, although their fears of falling in with the Tuaricks had detained them seventy-two days on the journey from Mourzuk.

It is scarcely possible to convey an idea of the sensations of all parties on a meeting of this nature on the desert. The Arabs were equally alive to these feelings as ourselves; and, in their usual wild expressive manner, sang, for days after such a rencontre, ballads descriptive of the event[59].

We halted at noon, at a place called Gassooma-foma. In the afternoon we moved again; and the guides told me that the road was so difficult that, until the moon fell, we should make the best of our way, and then rest. On these occasions we pitched no tents, but laid the boxes together; and, either with a little boiled kouskosou, or still oftener without, soon forgot our fatigues in sleep. When we saw the black ridge that extends along the wadey of Aghadem, the negroes, female slaves, and followers, set up screams of joy, and began dancing and singing with all their might. It was almost noon when we got to the well, and several slaves, belonging to an old Shouaa who was going to Hage, were speechless from want of water; yet they ran several miles to reach the well, like things distracted, with their mouths open, and eyes starting from their heads.

On the 2d of October we left Aghadem, and by the help of a blessed moon we were enabled to travel until near midnight, without losing our way. A very sharp storm of wind from the east obliged us to halt; and we had scarcely time to shelter ourselves with the skins and boxes, before it came on with most disagreeable force: this detained us until daylight, when we rose from between the hillocks of sand that had formed on each side of us in the night.

We had the satisfaction throughout our journey to find, that, young as we were at desert travelling, yet we got on as well, if not better, than our companions; and though children of the soil, they always looked to us, instead of us to them, both for safety and protection, as well as for the direction of the route. It was noon on Thursday the 7th, when we made Zow, an oasis situated under some high black sandstone hills, where there is good water and _ahgul_ in abundance for the camels, who had scarcely broken their fast since leaving Dibla. Zow is most appropriately named “difficult,” from the road which leads to it—a frightful sandy waste of moveable sand hills, exceeding fifty miles. Some little girls, and children of the kafila, panting with thirst, augmented by fever and illness, were scarcely able to creep along the deep sand: the whip shaken over the head urged them on—for in justice it must be said, the Arabs use it but rarely in any other way—and not to urge them on would be still more cruel, for the resolution and courage of these poor things would never carry them through; they would lie down, and if sleep once overcame them, so as to be left behind, death would be inevitable.

Oct. 11.—We arrived at Bilma. Without the supply of dates, which are procured here, kafilas would often suffer extreme hunger, so scarce are provisions, and so difficult is the transport: all followers from hence agree to have one meal per day of dates, and one of flour and fat; while, previous to arriving at Bilma, they are obliged to have two of flour and fat. Slaves of poor merchants will for twenty days together be fed by a handful of dates, night and morning, and they generally thrive well on this nourishing food.

Oct. 15.—We laid in a stock of dates for the next fourteen days, and man and beast were nearly subsisted upon them: a camel-load is worth from four to five dollars; they will, however, take camels’ flesh eagerly instead of money, or Soudan goods at one hundred per cent. profit. Our tents were surrounded by daylight with women and men; the former to sell us their commodities, and the latter to look on.

Oct. 17.—We had another day of rest, and were pretty tranquil. The women came in throngs to our tents, and were willing to sell us corn and dates, for either dollars or Soudan tobes, at one hundred and fifty per cent. profit: two lean goats they asked me four dollars for; and for a sheep, six. A great deal of bustle was made about the settlement of the dispute with the Mesurata Arabs, and the Tibboo: “The Book” was to be referred to, but Hadge Mohammed Abedeen, the brother of the kadi at Mourzuk, would not open the leaves until the relations of the deceased swore to rest satisfied with his decision. This preliminary being arranged on Monday morning, the parties all assembled: the kadi, Hadge Ben Hamet, and Ben Taleb, the chief merchants of our kafila, were present: they found, by the Koran, that if any man lifts his hand higher than his shoulder, in a menacing attitude, though he should not be armed, the adversary is not to wait the falling of the blow, but may strike even to death. The law was, of course, in favour of the Arab, as he proved the Tibboo’s having his hand, armed with a spear, raised above his head, when he shot him dead. On this being declared, the Arabs ran about, throwing their guns over their heads, shouting and, what we should call crowing, to such a degree, that I fully expected the Tibboos would be aggravated to renew hostilities.

Oct. 25.—From hence we were to proceed by a different route to that by which we went to Bornou: crossing, therefore, another part of the range, we moved until night, and halted in what appeared to us a beautiful oasis, under a ridge of dark sand hills. This spot of dingy fertility extended several miles to the west, and afforded us water, grass, and wood, for that and the two following days, which were to be passed in deserts. A few miserable inhabitants had fixed themselves here, for the sake of a small crop of dates, yielded by a few palms: they were all anxious to exchange the produce of their valley for a blue or a white shirt of the coarsest kind,—a luxury they were the more in want of from possessing no other clothing. This is by far the best road; soft sand gravel, instead of rough broken stones; and the kafilas prefer it on account of the wells. The oasis is called Seggedem. From hence, eight days’ distance, is a Tibboo town, and by this road kafilas sometimes pass to Ghraat.

Oct. 26.—We left Seggedem after a blowing night, which either overset the tents, or buried them several feet in the sand. Towards evening we rested, and starting again at daylight, made the wells of Izhya by noon next day.

From El Wahr to Meshroo are three very fatiguing days without water, or a single vestige of verdure. We were not able to reach the well, and halted short of the Beeban el Meshroo, the pass leading to the well, nearly four miles. On Sunday, the 8th of November, we arrived at the well,—watered our weary camels, and our more weary men, and again pursued our route until night, when we pitched westward of the well of Omhah; and after one more dreary day, at night (Nov. 9th) we slept under the palm trees which surround Tegerhy, the most miserable inhabited spot in Fezzan, nay, in the world, I might almost say, and yet we hailed it with inexpressible joy, after the pitiless deserts we had passed.

The fatigue and difficulty of a journey to Bornou is not to be compared with a return to Fezzan: the nine days from Izhya to Tegerhy, without either forage or wood, is distressing beyond description, to both camels and men, at the end of such a journey as this. The camels, already worn out by the heavy sand-hills, have the stony desert to pass; the sharp points bruise their feet, and they totter, and fall under their heavy loads: the people, too, suffer severely from the scanty portion of provisions, mostly dates, that can be brought on by these tired animals,—and altogether it is nine days of great distress and difficulty. There is something about El Wahr surpassing dreariness itself: the rocks are dark sandstone, of the most gloomy and barren appearance; the wind whistles through the narrow fissures, which disdain to afford nourishment even to a single blade of wild grass; and as the traveller creeps under the lowering crags, to take shelter for the night, stumbling at each step over the skeleton of some starved human being, and searching for level spots on the hard rock, on which to lay his wearied body, he may fancy himself wandering in the wilds of desolation and despair.

On the day of our making El Wahr, and the two following days, camels in numbers dropped and died, or were quickly killed, and the meat brought on by the hungry slaves. Kafilas are obliged to rely on the chance of Tibboos and Arabs from Mourzuk hearing of their having passed the desert, and bringing them supplies; should these fail, many poor creatures must fall a sacrifice for the salvation of the rest. These bringers of supplies usually sell their dates and corn to eager buyers, at about four times the price they could obtain for them in Fezzan; besides which, the merchants gladly hire their unburthened camels to quicken their passage to a better country.

A Tibboo trader, who was returning to his own country from Fezzan, gave me a gratifying proof of the confidence he was willing to place in the word of an Englishman. It was nearly night, and I was in front of the camels: he had dates to sell, and mine were expended, but I told him that my money was in my trunk, and that my camels were too tired for me to unload them: “God bless you!” said he, “why, I wish you would buy all I have, camels and all: I know who the English are! Are they not almost Mislem, and people of one word? Measure the dates, and go on:—pay the kaid at Mourzuk.”

We here voraciously bought up a few bad onions, to give a little flavour to our insipid meal of flour and water; and soon after, the kaid brought me a sheep, the only one in the town, which we cut up and divided, so that we had a sumptuous meal about nine o’clock in the evening.

On Sunday the 14th of November, by easy journeys we reached Gatrone, which, before so miserable in our eyes, now really seemed a little Paradise; and the food which the old hadge who governs there sent us, of the same kind we before thought so unpalatable on our outward voyage, now seemed delicious. I literally got up at daylight to feast on a mess of hot broth and fresh bread, most highly peppered, and made as good a meal as ever I did in my life.

At Gatrone, as well as at Tegerhy, our tents were pitched in a palm grove, the trees shading us during the day from the sun-beams, and at night from the easterly winds: the gentle moaning of the breeze through its slowly-waving branches was to us a most pleasing novelty; and the noble, nutritious, and productive palm, seemed in our eyes fully to merit the beautiful lines of Abulfeda:

“The stately date, whose pliant head, crowned with pendent clusters, languidly reclines like that of a beautiful woman overcome with sleep.”—_Abulfeda Descr. Egypt, a Michaelis_, p. 6.