Chapter VII (3)

To do them justice, the Fezzan people seemed as glad we were come back, as we were ourselves. “To go and come back from the black country! Oh, wonderful!—you English have large hearts!—God bless you!—the poor doctor to die too, so far from home!—Health to your head! it was written he was to die, and you to come back.—God is great!—and the young Rais Ali too! (Mr. Toole)—Ah! that was written also:—but he was a nice man—so sweet spoken. Now you are going home: well, good fortune attend you! How all your friends will come out to meet you with fine clothes—and how much gunpowder they will fire away!”

At the mosque of Sidi Bouchier the usual prayer was offered for our safe arrival in our own country; and on the 21st of November, Sunday, we made our entry into Mourzuk, and took possession of our old habitation.

Nov. 21.—All welcomed our return: we had bowls of _bazeen_ and _kouskosou_ night and morning, and visitors from daylight until long after sunset, notwithstanding we had no tea, coffee, or sugar, to regale them with, as on our former residence amongst them. The new sultan, Sidi Hassein, who succeeded Mustapha, had only arrived the day before us; and as he had entered in mourning on account of the death of the bashaw’s wife, the Lilla Gibellia[60], no rejoicings were allowed on the occasion: he however sent us two fat sheep, a large pot of olives, and two sacks of wheat; we had therefore a little rejoicing of our own. The two Lizaris, Mohammed and Yusuf, Captain Lyon’s friends, were amongst the foremost to pay us attention, as well as old Hadge Mahmoud, who exclaimed continually, “Thank God, you are come back!—who would have thought it!—how great and good God is, to protect such kaffirs as you are! Well! well! notwithstanding all this, I love you all, though I believe it is _haram_ (sin).”

Though many degrees nearer our own fair and blue-eyed beauties in complexion, when moderately cleansed and washed, yet no people ever lost more by comparison than did the white ladies of Mourzuk, with the black ones of Bornou and Soudan. That the latter were “black, devilish black,” there is no denying; but their beautiful forms, expressive eyes, pearly teeth, and excessive cleanliness, rendered them far more pleasing than the dirty half-casts we were now amongst. A single blue wrapper (though scarcely covering) gave full liberty to their straight and well-grown limbs, not a little strengthened, perhaps, by four or five daily immersions in cold water; while the ladies of Mourzuk, wrapped in a woollen blanket, with an under one of the same texture, seldom changed night or day, until it drops off, or that they may be washed for their wedding; hair clotted, and besmeared with sand, brown powder of cloves, and other drugs, in order to give them the popular smell; their silver ear-rings, and coral ornaments, all blackened by the perspiration flowing from their anointed locks, are really such a bundle of filth, that it is not without alarm that you see them approach towards you, or disturb their garments in your apartments.

The bashaw was said to have had an engagement with the Arabs, who were in rebellion against him, and to have defeated them; after which they had fled all to the Gibel, which had been long the rendezvous of the disaffected; we therefore determined on our immediate departure, after having sold the six remaining camels, out of twenty-four, which I had brought with me from Kouka, for twenty-one dollars—sore backed miserables that they were! The Maherhies, though handsomer and more fleet, do not bear fatigue like the Salamy or Tripoli camels.

On the 12th of December we were ready for our departure, and on the 13th we took our leave, the sultan having given us an order, or teskera, on all the towns of Fezzan, for every thing we might stand in need of. The cold of Mourzuk had pinched us all terribly; and notwithstanding we used an additional blanket, both day and night, one of us had colds, and swelled necks, another ague, and a third, pains in the limbs—all, I believe, principally from the chillness of the air; yet the thermometer, at sunrise, was not lower than 42° and 43°.

On the 18th we reached Sebha, and found our old friend, sheikh Abdallah-ben-Shibel, whose hospitality we had before experienced; with abundance of kouskousou and meat, with highly peppered broth, prepared for us. The daughter of my friend Abdallah, who was now married, and a mother, and to whom I had two years before given a very simple medicine but once, which she was convinced had cured her of the jaundice, sent me two very pretty straw fans for the flies; they were made of the date leaf, in diamonds, coloured red, black, and yellow; the red is produced by _foor_, or madder root; the yellow with dried onion leaves, steeped in water; and the black by _nil_, or indigo.

At Sebha, Timinhint, and Zeghren, we were fed with the best produce of their _cuisine_. Omul Hena, by whom I was so much smitten on my first visit to this place, was now, after a disappointment by the death of her betrothed, with whom she had read the fatah just before my last visit, only a wife of three days old. The best dish, however, out of twenty which the town furnished, came from her; it was brought separately, inclosed in a new basket of date leaves, which I was desired to keep; and her old slave who brought it inquired, “Whether I did not mean to go to her father’s house, and _salaam_, salute, her mother?” I replied, “Certainly;” and just after dark the same slave came to accompany me. We found the old lady sitting over a handful of fire, with eyes still more sore, and person still more neglected, than when I last saw her. She however hugged me most cordially, for there was nobody present but ourselves: the fire was blown up, and a bright flame produced, over which we sat down, while she kept saying, or rather singing, “_Ash harlek? Ash ya barick-che fennick?_”—“How are you? How do you find yourself? How is it with you?” in the patois of the country, first saying something in _Ertana_, which I did not understand, to the old slave; and I was just regretting that I should go away without seeing Omul-hena, while a sort of smile rested on the pallid features of my hostess, when in rushed the subject of our conversation. I scarcely knew her at first, by the dim light of the palm wood fire; she however threw off her mantle, and, kissing my shoulder (an Arab mode of salutation), shook my hand, while large tears rolled down her fine features. She said “she was determined to see me, although her father had refused.” The mother, it seems, had determined on gratifying her.

Omul-hena was now seventeen: she was handsomer than any thing I had seen in Fezzan, and had on all her wedding ornaments: indeed, I should have been a good deal agitated at her apparent great regard, had she not almost instantly exclaimed, “Well! you must make haste; give me what you have brought me! You know I am a woman now, and you must give me something a great deal richer than you did before: besides, I am Sidi Gunana’s son’s wife, who is a great man; and when he asks me what the Christian gave me, let me be able to show him something very handsome.” “What!” said I, “does Sidi Gunana know then of your coming?” “To be sure,” said Omul-hena, “and sent me: his father is a Maraboot, and told him you English were people with great hearts and plenty of money, so I might come.” “Well, then,” said I, “if that is the case, you can be in no hurry.” She did not think so; and my little present was no sooner given, than she hurried away, _saying_ she would return directly, but not keeping her word. Well done, simplicity! thought I: well done unsophisticated nature! no town-bred coquette could have played her part better.

After a day’s halt, on the 22d we moved to Omhul Abeed, distant only a few miles, where water and wood are collected for the desert between that place and Sockna, which usually, at this season, when the days are short and nights cold, occupies five or six days.

Dec. 25.—On our fourth Christmas day in Africa, we came in the evening to Temesheen, where, after the rains, a slight sprinkling of wormwood, and a few other wild plants were to be seen, known only to the Arabs, and which is all the produce that the most refreshing showers can draw from this unproductive soil. We had here determined on having our Christmas dinner, and we slaughtered a sheep we had brought with us, for the purpose; but night came on, before we could get up the tents, with a bleak north-wester; and as the day had been a long and fatiguing one, our people were too tired to kill and prepare the feast. My companions, however, were both something better: Hillman had had no ague for two days; and we assembled in my tent, shut up the door, and with, I trust, grateful and hopeful hearts, toasted in brandy punch our dear friends at home, who we consoled ourselves with the idea, were, comparatively, almost within hail.

The next day, before we had loaded our camels, a pelting rain came on, with a beating cold wind from the north-west, which pinched us severely; however, we started; but scarcely had we entered the wadey, at the approach to which we had passed the night, than the slaves kindled fires under the trees, round which, indeed, we all took shelter: they, however, poor creatures, complained bitterly; and as the camels had not eaten any thing for three days previous, we determined on suffering them to enjoy such pasturage as the wadey afforded, while we slaughtered our sheep, and kept the feast.

Every thing was so cold and damp, that the poor slaves, who accompanied our kafila, half-clothed as they were, crowded round the fires in preference to sleeping: they were, however, always gay and lively on the march, when the warm sun and exercise had given a little circulation to their blood; the Arabs, to do them justice, fed them to their hearts’ content, and, even to this, we usually added something.

Arrived at Sockna, I was lodged in the house of Hadge Mohammed Boofarce, a place with four whitewashed walls and date beams; but by the help of a brass pan, and a hole in the ground, I managed to keep a pretty good fire, without much smoke. I had neither host nor hostess. The house was in the charge of one Begharmi slave, who had been twenty-four years in bondage: he was pleased greatly when he found that I had been near his home, and the names of some of the towns made him clap his hands with pleasure; but when I asked him whether he should like to return, he had sense enough to answer, “No! no! I am better where I am. I have no home now but this; and what will my master’s children do without me? He is dead; and his son is dead: and who will take care of the garden for his wives and daughters, if Moussa goes?—No! he is a slave still, and so much the better for him; his country is far off, and full of enemies. Here he has a house, and plenty to eat, thank God! and two months ago they gave him a wife, and kept his wedding for eight days.” The siriah of a Sockna merchant, who had gone to Soudan, leaving her pregnant, had, by becoming a mother, gained her freedom, and taking Moussa for a husband, they were put in charge of his mistress’s unoccupied house for a residence.

Jan. 5.—We left Sockna, passed El Hammam on the 6th, slept in Wadey Orfilly, and on the morning after, Mr. Clapperton and myself separated, as I wished to return by Ghirza, while he was rather desirous of keeping the old road by Bonjem. A continuation of wadeys furnished us at this time of the year with food for camels and horses; and, close under low hills of magnesian limestone, at Jernaam, we filled our water-skins for five days’ march.

Engraved by E. Finden.

GHIRZA.

SOUTH FACE OF BUILDING. No. 1.

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

Etched by E. Finden.

GHIRZA.

FRIEZE ON THE WEST, EAST, & SOUTH FACES OF THE BUILDING. No. 1.

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

Jan. 11.—A cold morning, with the thermometer at 42°, delayed us till nine o’clock before we could make a start. We passed two wadeys before coming to that where we were to halt: near one of these, called Gidud, were heaps of stones, denoting the resting-place of two Arabs, who had died in a skirmish, about two months before, and some characters, which to me were hieroglyphics, were marked out distinctly in the gravel near their graves; and upon inquiry, I found they told the tale of death, and the tribes to which they belonged. At sunset we halted at Bidud.

Nothing particular, till our arrival at Ghirza on the 13th. We found here the remains of some buildings, said to be Roman, situated about three miles west-south-west of the well, and which appeared to me extremely interesting: there must have been several towns, or probably one large city, which extended over some miles of country, and the remains of four large buildings, which appear to have been monuments or mausoleums, though two of them are nearly razed to the earth. Those which I thought interesting and capable of representation, I sketched: the architecture was rude, though various: capitals, shafts, cornices, and entablatures, lay scattered about; some of curious, if not admirable, workmanship.

The inscription[61], No. 1, was on a tablet fixed on the east face of the building, of which the elevation gives the south side. The entrance to all the buildings was from the east, and by fourteen steps to the base of the upper range of pillars, now totally destroyed. The other inscriptions were found on the loose fragments which lay scattered around.

Jan. 17.—Moved along Shidaf, a beautiful wadey, extending ten miles between limestone rocky hills, through which we passed. After this we came to Hanafs, and halted fifteen miles to the east, where we found some other ruins, of a character similar to those of Ghirza: two inscriptions were perceivable, but perfectly unintelligible, and obscured by time.

On the 20th we once more saw Benioleed, and on the 24th, passed Melghra, and the plain of Tinsowa. Melghra was the place where we had taken leave of Mr. Carstensen, the late Danish consul-general at Tripoli, and many of our friends, who accompanied us thus far on our departure for the interior; and our return to the same spot was attended by the most pleasing recollections. Our friend, the English consul, we also expected would have given us the meeting, as he had despatched an Arab, who had encountered us the night before, with the information that he was about to leave Tripoli a second time to welcome our arrival.

On the day after, we reached a well, within ten miles of Tripoli; and previous to arriving there, were met by two chaoushes of the bashaw, with one of the consul’s servants: we found the consul’s tents, but he had been obliged to return on business to the city; and the satisfaction with which we devoured some anchovy toasts, and washed them down with huge draughts of Marsala wine, in glass tumblers—luxuries we had so long indeed been strangers to—was quite indescribable. We slept soundly after our feast, and on the 26th of January, a few miles from our resting-place, were met by the consul and his eldest son, whose satisfaction at our safe return seemed equal to our own. We entered Tripoli the same day, where a house had been provided for us. The consul sent out sheep, bread, and fruit, to treat all our fellow-travellers; and cooking, and eating, and singing, and feasting, were kept up by both slaves and Arabs, until morning revealed to their happy eyes, and well filled bellies, the “roseate east,” as a poet would say.

We had now no other duties to perform, except the providing for our embarkation, with all our live animals, birds, and other specimens of natural history, and settling with our faithful native attendants, some of whom had left Tripoli with us, and returned in our service: they had strong claims on our liberality, and had served us with astonishing fidelity in many situations of great peril; and if either here or in any foregoing part of this journal it may be thought that I have spoken too favourably of the natives we were thrown amongst, I can only answer, that I have described them as I found them, hospitable, kind-hearted, honest, and liberal: to the latest hour of my life I shall remember them with affectionate regard; and many are the untutored children of nature in central Africa, who possess feelings and principles that would do honour to the most civilized Christian. A determination to be pleased, if possible, is the wisest preparatory resolution that a traveller can make on quitting his native shores, and the closer he adheres to it the better: few are the situations from which some consolation cannot be derived with this determination; and savage, indeed, must be that race of human beings from whom amusement, if not interesting information, cannot be collected.

Our long absence from civilized society appeared to have an effect on our manner of speaking, of which, though we were unconscious ourselves, occasioned the remarks of our friends: even in common conversation, our tone was so loud as almost to alarm those we addressed; and it was some weeks before we could moderate our voices so as to bring them in harmony with the confined space in which we were now exercising them.

Having made arrangements with the Captain of an Imperial brig, which we found in the harbour of Tripoli, to convey us to Leghorn, I applied, through the consul-general, to the bashaw for his seal to the freedom of a Mandara boy, whose liberation from slavery I had paid for some months before: the only legal way in which a Christian can give freedom to a slave in a Mohammedan country. The bashaw immediately complied with my request[62]; and, on Colonel Warrington’s suggesting that the boy was anxious to accompany me to England, he replied, with great good humour, “Let him go, then; the English can do no wrong.” Indeed, on every occasion, this prince endeavoured to convince us how rejoiced he was at our success and safe return. He desired Colonel Warrington to give him a fête, which request our hospitable and liberal consul complied with, to the great satisfaction of the bashaw. The streets, leading from the castle to the consulate, were illuminated, and arched over with the branches of orange and lemon trees, thick with fruit. The bashaw arrived at nine in the evening, accompanied by the whole of his court in their splendid full dresses, and, seated on a sort of throne, erected for him, under a canopy, gazed on the quadrilles and waltzes, danced by the families of the European consuls, who were invited to meet him, with the greatest pleasure. He took the English and the Spanish consul-generals’ wives into the supper-room, with great affability: and calling Captain Clapperton and myself towards him, assured us he welcomed our return as heartily as our own king and master in England could do. No act of the bashaw’s could show greater confidence in the English, or more publicly demonstrate his regard and friendship, than a visit of this nature.

Very shortly after this fête we embarked for Leghorn, and after experiencing heavy and successive gales, from the north-west, which obliged us to put into Elba, we arrived in twenty-eight days. Our quarantine, though twenty-five days, quickly passed over. The miseries of the Lazaretto were sadly complained of by our imprisoned brethren; but the luxury of a house over our heads, refreshing Tuscan breezes, and what appeared to us the perfect cookery of the little _taverna_, attached to the Lazaretto, not to mention the bed, out of which for two days we could scarcely persuade ourselves to stir, made the time pass quickly and happily. On the 1st of May we arrived at Florence, where we received the kindest attention and assistance from Lord Burghersh. Our animals and baggage we had sent home by sea, from Leghorn, in charge of William Hillman, our only surviving companion. Captain Clapperton and myself crossed the Alps, and on the 1st of June following, we reported our arrival in England to Earl Bathurst, under whose auspices the mission had been sent out.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 48: Slaves worthy of being admitted into the seraglio.]

[Footnote 49: The best information I had ever procured of the road eastward was from an old hadgi, named El Raschid, a native of the city of Medina: he had been at Waday and at Sennaar, at different periods of his life; and, amongst other things, described to me a people east of Waday, whose greatest luxury was feeding on raw meat, cut from the animal while warm, and full of blood: he had twice made the attempt at getting home, but was each time robbed of every thing; yet, strange to say, he was the only person I could find who was willing to attempt it again.]

[Footnote 50: Sidi Barca, a holy man, was killed by the Biddomahs at the mouth of this river; and from that moment the Bahr-el-Ghazal began to dry, and the water ceased to flow. A Borgoo Tibboo told us at Mourzuk, that the Bahr-el-Ghazal came originally from the south, and received the waters of the Tchad; but that now it was completely dried up, and bones of immense fish were constantly found in the dry bed of the lake. His grandfather told him that the Bahr-el-Ghazal was once a day’s journey broad.]

[Footnote 51: Dowera is the plural of dower, a circle.]

[Footnote 52: There is a prevailing report amongst the Shouaas that from a mountain, south-east of Waday, called Tama, issues a stream, which flows near Darfoor, and forms the Bahr el Abiad; and that this water is the lake Tchad, which is driven by the eddies and whirlpools of the centre of the lake into subterranean passages; and after a course of many miles under ground, its progress being arrested by rocks of granite, it rises between two hills, and pursues its way eastward.]

[Footnote 53: During the whole of this time both ourselves and our animals drank the lake water, which is sweet, and extremely palatable.]

[Footnote 54: Horse covering.]

[Footnote 55: This was, no doubt, Doctor Docherd, sent by Major Gray.]

[Footnote 56: This man informed me that Timboctoo was now governed by a woman, a princess, named Nanapery: this account was confirmed by Mohammed D’Ghies, after my return to Tripoli, who showed me two letters from Timboctoo. He also gave me some interesting information about Wangara, a name I was surprised to find but few Moors at all acquainted with. I met with two only, besides Khalifa, who were able to explain the meaning of the word: they all agreed that there was no such place; and I am inclined to believe the following account will be found to be the truth. All gold countries, as well as any people coming from the gold country, or bringing Goroo nuts, are called _Wangara_. Bambara is called Wangara. All merchants from Gonga, Gona-Beeron, Ashantee, Fullano, Mungagana, Summatigilia, Kom, Terry, and Ganadogo, are called Wangara in Houssa; and all these are gold countries.]

[Footnote 57: An intelligent Moor of Mesurata again told me, this water was the same as the Nile; and when I asked him how that could be, when he knew that we had traced it into the Tchad, which was allowed to have no outlet, he replied, “Yes, but it is nevertheless _Nile water-sweet_.” I had before been asked if the Nile was not in England; and subsequently, when my knowledge of Arabic was somewhat improved, I became satisfied that these questions had no reference whatever to the Nile of Egypt, but merely meant running water, sweet water, from its rarity highly esteemed by all desert travellers.]

[Footnote 58: Each time Barca Gana had encompassed the lake, he had with him a force of from four hundred to eight hundred cavalry; the passage of a river, therefore, or running stream, could never have escaped his observation.]

[Footnote 59: The following lines may be taken as a sample, at least, if not a literal translation, of their poetical sketches on these ocean meetings.

THE Arab rests upon his gun,

His month of labour scarce begun

Of passing deserts drear:

Straining his eyes along the sand,

He fancies in the mist, a band

Of plunderers appear.

Again he thinks of home and tribe,

Of parents, and his Arab bride

Betrothed from earliest years:

Then high above his shaven head,

The gun that fifty had left dead

Rallies his comrade’s fears.

“Yeolad boo! yeolad boo!

“Sons of your fathers! which of you

“Will shun the fight and fly?”

They rush towards him, bright in arms,

Thus calming all his false alarms

By promising to die.

The sounds of men, as objects near,

Strike on the listening Arab’s ear

Laid close upon the sand:

He hears his native desert song,

And plunges forth his friends among

To seize the proffered hand.

Asalam? Asalam? from every mouth;

What cheer? what cheer? from north and south,

Each earnestly demands:

And dates and water, desert fare,

While all their news of home declare,

Are spread upon the sands.

But, soon! too soon! the kaf’las move;

They separate again, to prove

How desolate the land!

Yet, parting slow, each seeks delay,

And dreading still the close of day,

They press each other’s hand.]

[Footnote 60: She was taken prisoner in an expedition against the people of Khalifa Belgassum, in the Gibel, by Bey Mohamed, who, though in love with her himself, was obliged to give her up to his father, who was struck with her _eyun kebir_ (large eyes). She also loved the bey, but was obliged to give herself to the bashaw. This is said to have been the cause of the first disagreement with his father. She, by her influence, made Belgassum, her old master, kaid over eight provinces.]

[Footnote 61: Dr. Young has been so good as to examine these inscriptions, but has not succeeded in ascertaining their probable date. He observes, that the two principal inscriptions, Nos. 1 and 2, are clearly tributes of children to the memory of their parents. They seem, from the legal expression “discussi ratiocinio,” to be of the times of the lower empire, these words being applied in the pandect to the settlement of accounts: they each allude to the expenses of some public entertainment. The termination is remarkable for the prayer, that their parents might revisit their descendants on earth, and _make them like themselves_. The names seem to be altogether barbarous: the second character, like a heart, is not uncommonly found in inscriptions standing for a point.

No 1.

M. CHULLAM et * VARNYCHsan

PATER ET Mater MARCHI

NIMMIRE Et C. CURASAN

QUI EIS HAEC MEMORIAM

FECERUNT . DISCUSSIMUS

RATIOCINIO; AD

EA EROGATUM EST SUMI

praetER C . . . . . S IN

NUMMO * AEDILIS familIARES

NUMERO OVA lactiCINIA

OVINa . . . . . deCEM

ROSTRATAE . . . . . OPE

nAVIBUS E . . . . .

VISITENT Et taLES faciaNt.

No. 2 must be read nearly thus:—

M. FUDEI ET P. PHESULCUM

PATER ET MATER M. METUSANIS

QUI EIS HAEC MEMORIAM FECIT.

DISCUSSI RATIOCINIO; AD EA ERO-

GATUM EST SUMI . . . .

IN NUMMO * AEDILIS A FAMILIA

PRAETER CIBARIAS OMniBUS

FELICITER LEGAtas . VISITENT

FILIOS ET NEPOTES MEOS

ET TALES FACIANT.

No. 3.

MUNAS II ET MUMAI

filii MATRIS MNIMIRA

HAEDILEHS.

No. 4.

NHIABH JUre

JURANDO tene-

AMUR QUIriTUUM.]

[Footnote 62: The following is a loose translation of the document:—“Praise be to the only God, and peace to our Prophet Mohamed, and his followers!—Made free by Rais Khaleel-ben-Inglise, a young black, called Abdelahy, of Mandara, from the hands of Abdi Nibbe-ben-Attaia Towerga, for the sum of thirty-six Spanish dollars, which the said Abdi Nibbe has received—Rais Khaleel giving freedom to the said slave, over whom he has no power, nor any other person whatever; and the said Abdelahy is in full enjoyment of all the privileges of Musselmans. In the presence of us, the parties being in possession of their senses and faculties. Given this 16 Rabbia-attani, 1240, di Hegira—Mohamed-ben-Zein-Abeedeen-ben-Hamet-Ben-Mohamed-Ben-Omeran, Mahmoud-ben-Hagi, Solyman.”]

SUPPLEMENTAL CHAPTER ON BORNOU.

* * * * *

Bornou, a kingdom of Central Africa, is comprehended, in its present state, between the 15th and 10th parallel northern latitude, and the 12th and 18th of east longitude. It is bounded on the north by part of Kanem and the desert; on the east, by the Lake Tchad, which covers several thousand miles of country, and contains many inhabited islands; on the south-east by the kingdom of Loggun and the river Shary, which divides Bornou from the kingdom of Begharmi, and loses itself in the waters of the Tchad; on the south by Mandara, an independent kingdom, situated at the foot of an extensive range of primitive mountains; and on the west by Soudan. The heat is excessive, but not uniform; from March to the end of June being the period when the sun has most power. At this season, about two hours after noon, the thermometer will rise sometimes to 105 and 107; and suffocating and scorching winds from the south and south-east prevail. The nights are dreadfully oppressive; the thermometer not falling much below 100°, until a few hours before day-light; when 86 or 88 denote comparative freshness. Towards the middle of May, Bornou is visited by violent tempests of thunder, lightning, and rain. Yet in such a dry state is the earth at this time, and so quickly is the water absorbed, that the inhabitants scarcely feel the inconvenience of the season. Considerable damage is done to the cattle and the people by the lightning. They now prepare the ground for their corn; and it is all in the earth before the end of June, when the lakes and rivers begin to overflow; and from the extreme flatness of the country, tracks of many miles are quickly converted into large lakes of water. Nearly constant rains now deluge the land with cloudy, damp, sultry weather. The winds are hot and violent, and generally from the east and south.

In October the winter season commences; the rains are less frequent, and the harvest near the towns is got in; the air is milder and more fresh, the weather serene: breezes blow from the north-west, and with a clearer atmosphere. Towards December, and in the beginning of January, Bornou is colder than from its situation might be expected. The thermometer will, at no part of the day, mount higher than 74 or 75; and in the morning descends to 58 and 60.

It is these cold fresh winds from the north and north-west that restore health and strength to the inhabitants, who suffer during the damp weather from dreadful attacks of fever and ague, which carry off great numbers every year. The inhabitants are numerous; the principal towns or cities are thirteen. Ten different languages, or dialects of the same language, are spoken in the empire. The Shouaas have brought with them the Arabic, which they speak nearly pure. They are divided into tribes, and bear still the names of some of the most formidable of the Bedouin hordes of Egypt. They are a deceitful, arrogant, and cunning race; great charm writers; and by pretending to a natural gift of prophecy, they find an easy entrance into the houses of the black inhabitants of the towns, where their pilfering propensities often show themselves. The strong resemblance they bear, both in features and habits, to some of our gipsy tribes, is particularly striking. It is said that Bornou can muster 15,000 Shouaas in the field mounted. They are the greatest breeders of cattle in the country, and annually supply Soudan with from two to three thousand horses. The Bornou people, or Kanowry, as they are called, have large unmeaning faces, with fat Negro noses, and mouths of great dimensions, with good teeth, and high foreheads. They are peaceable, quiet, and civil: they salute each other with courteousness and warmth; and there is a remarkable good-natured heaviness about them which is interesting. They are no warriors, but revengeful; and the best of them given to commit petty larcenies, on every opportunity that offers. They are extremely timid; so much so, that on an Arab once speaking harshly to one of them, he came the next day to ask if he wished to kill him.

As their country produces little beside grain, mostly from a want of industry in the people, so are they nearly without foreign trade.

In their manner of living, they are simple in the extreme. Flour made into a paste, sweetened with honey, and fat poured over it, is a dish for a sultan. The use of bread is not known; therefore but little wheat is grown. Indeed it is found only in the houses of the great. Barley is also scarce; a little is sown between the wheat, and is used, when bruised, to take off the brackish taste of the water.

The grain most in use amongst the people of all classes, and upon which also animals are fed, is a species of millet called _gussub_. This grain is produced in great quantities, and with scarcely any trouble. The poorer people will eat it raw or parched in the sun, and be satisfied without any other nourishment for several days together. Bruised and steeped in water, it forms the travelling stock of all pilgrims and soldiers. When cleared of the husk, pounded, and made into a light paste, in which a little _meloheia_ (the _eboo ochra_ of Guinea) and melted fat is mixed, it forms a favourite dish, and is called _kaddell_. _Kasheia_ is the seed of a grass, which grows wild and in abundance near the water. It is parched in the sun, broken, and cleared of the husk. When boiled, it is eaten as rice, or made into flour; but this is a luxury.

Four kinds of beans are raised in great quantities, called _mussaqua_, _marya_, _kleemy_, and _kimmay_, all known by the name of _gafooly_, and are eaten by the slaves, and poorer people. A paste made from these and fish was the only eatable we could find in the towns near the river. Salt they scarcely knew the use of. Rice might have been cultivated in Bornou, before it became the scene of such constant warfare as has for the last fifteen years defaced the country. It is now brought from Soudan, in the neighbourhood of Maffatai: in Bornou, it is scarce, and of an inferior quality. Indian corn, cotton, and indigo, are the most valuable productions of the soil. The two latter grow wild, close to the Tchad and overflowed grounds. The senna plant is also found wild, and in abundance. The indigo is of a superior quality, and forms a dye which is used in colouring the tobe (the only dress the people wear) dark blue, which probably is not excelled in quality in any part of the world. The only implement of husbandry they possess is an ill-shaped hoe, made from the iron found in the Mandara mountains; and the labours of their wretched agriculture devolve, almost entirely, on women. Most of their grain is reaped within two or three months of its being scattered on the earth (for it can scarcely be called sowing); and probably there is no spot of land between the tropics, not absolutely desert, so destitute of either fruit or vegetable as the kingdom of Bornou. Mangoes are only found growing in the neighbourhood of Mandara and to the west; and with the exception of two or three lemon, or rather lime trees, and as many fig trees, in the garden of the sheikh at Kouka, raised on a spot of ground watched by himself, the care and culture of which give employment to about fifty negroes, not a fruit of any description can be found in the whole kingdom. Date trees there are none south of Woodie, four days north of Kouka, where they are sickly, and produce but an indifferent fruit. Onions are to be procured near the great towns only, but no other vegetable. The people indeed have nothing beyond the bare necessaries of life; and are rich only in slaves, bullocks, and horses. Their dress consists of one, two, or three tobes, or large shirts, according to the means of the wearer: a cap of dark blue is worn on the head by persons of rank. Others, indeed generally all, go bare-headed; the head being kept constantly free from hair, as well as every other part of the body. They carry an immense club, three or four feet in length, with a round head to it, which they put to the ground at every step, and walk with great solemnity, followed by two or three slaves: they have what we should call a rolling gait. Red caps are brought by the Tripoli and Mesurata merchants; but are only purchased by sultans and their immediate attendants. They are Musselmans, and very particular in performing their prayers and ablutions five times a day. They are less tolerant than the Arabs; and I have known a Bornouese refuse to eat with an Arab, because he had not _sully’d_ (washed and prayed) at the preceding appointed hour.

They seldom take more than from two to three wives at a time, even the rich, and divorce them as often as they please, by paying their dower. The poorer class are contented with one. The women are particularly cleanly, but not good-looking: they have large mouths, very thick lips, and high foreheads. Their manner of dressing the hair is also less becoming than that of any other Negro nation I have seen: it is brought over the top of the head in three thick rolls; one large, one in the centre, and two smaller on each side, just over the ears, joining in front on the forehead in a point, and plastered thickly with indigo and bees’ wax. Behind the point it is wiry, very finely plaited, and turned up like a drake’s tail. The _Scarin_, or tattoos, which are common to all Negro nations in these latitudes, and by which their country is instantly known, are here particularly unbecoming. The Bornouese have twenty cuts or lines on each side of the face, which are drawn from the corners of the mouth, towards the angles of the lower jaw and the cheek-bone; and it is quite distressing to witness the torture the poor little children undergo who are thus marked, enduring, not only the heat, but the attacks of millions of flies. They have also one cut on the forehead in the centre, six on each arm, six on each leg and thigh, four on each breast, and nine on each side, just above the hips. They are, however, the most humble of females, never approaching their husbands except on their knees, or speaking to any of the male sex, otherwise than with the head and face covered, and kneeling. Previous to marriage, there appears to be more jealousy than after.

Adultery is not common: the punishment is very severe, if caught in the fact, and secured on the spot; and this is the only evidence on which conviction is granted. The guilty couple are bound hand and foot, cast on the ground, and their brains dashed out by the club of the injured husband and his male relations.

Girls rarely marry until they are fourteen or fifteen; often not so young. The age of puberty does not arrive here at so early a period as in Barbary; females there not unfrequently becoming mothers at the age of twelve, and even eleven. In Bornou, such a circumstance is unknown: for a woman to have twins is extremely rare; and to make them believe that more were ever brought into the world at one time, in any country, would be difficult.

The domestic animals are dogs, sheep, goats, cows, and herds of oxen, beyond all calculation. The Shouaas on the banks of the Tchad have probably 20,000, near their different villages; while the shores of the great river Shary could furnish double that number. They also breed multitudes of horses, with which they furnish the Soudan market, where this animal is very inferior.

The domestic fowl is common, and is the cheapest animal food that can be purchased: a dollar will purchase forty. They are small, but well flavoured.

The bees are so numerous, as in some places to obstruct the passage of travellers. The honey is but partially collected. That buzzing noisy insect, the locust, is also a frequent visitor. Clouds of them appear in the air; and the natives, by screams and various noises, endeavour to prevent their descending to the earth. In the district where they pitch, every particle of vegetation is quickly devoured. The natives eat them with avidity, both roasted and boiled, and formed into balls as a paste.

The game is abundant, and consists of antelopes, gazelles, hares, an animal about the size of a red deer, with annulated horns, called _koorigum_, partridges very large, small grouse, wild ducks, geese, snipes, and the ostrich, the flesh of which is much esteemed. Pelicans, spoonbills, the Balearic crane, in great numbers, with a variety of other large birds of the crane species, are also found in the marshes. The woods abound with the Guinea fowl.

The wild animals are, the lion, which in the wet season approaches to the walls of the towns, panthers, and a species of tiger-cat, are in great numbers in the neighbourhood of Mandara, the leopard, the hyena, the jackal, the civet cat, the fox, hosts of monkeys, black, grey, and brown, and the elephant, the latter so numerous as to be seen near the Tchad in herds of from fifty to four hundred. This noble animal they hunt, and kill for the sake of his flesh, as well as the ivory of his tusk. The buffalo, the flesh of which is a delicacy, has a high game flavour. The crocodile and the hippopotamus are also numerous; and the flesh of both is eaten. That of the crocodile is extremely fine: it has a green firm fat, resembling the turtle, and the callipee has the colour, firmness, and flavour of the finest veal. The giraffe is seen and killed by the buffalo hunters in the woods and marshy grounds near the Tchad. Reptiles are numerous; they consist of scorpions, centipedes, and disgusting large toads, serpents of several kinds, and a snake said to be harmless, of the congo kind, sometimes measuring fourteen and sixteen feet in length.

The beasts of burden used by the inhabitants are the bullock and the ass. A very fine breed of the latter is found in the Mandara valleys. Strangers and chiefs, in the service of the sheikh or sultan, alone possess camels. The bullock is the bearer of all the grain and other articles to and from the markets. A small saddle of plaited rushes is laid on him, when sacks made of goats-skins, and filled with corn, are lashed on his broad and able back. A leather thong is passed through the cartilage of his nose, and serves as a bridle, while on the top of the load is mounted the owner, his wife, or his slave. Sometimes the daughter or the wife of a rich Shouaa will be mounted on her particular bullock, and precede the loaded animals; extravagantly adorned with amber, silver rings, coral, and all sorts of finery, her hair streaming with fat, a black rim of _kohol_, at least an inch wide, round each of her eyes, and I may say, arrayed for conquest at the crowded market. Carpets or tobes are then spread on her clumsy palfrey: she sits _jambe deçà jambe delà_, and with considerable grace guides her animal by his nose. Notwithstanding the peaceableness of his nature, her vanity still enables her to torture him into something like caperings and curvetings.

The price of a good bullock is from three dollars to three dollars and a half.

The Bornou laws are arbitrary, and the punishment summary. Murder is punished by death: the culprit, on conviction, is handed over to the relations of the deceased, who revenge his death with their clubs. Repeated thefts by the loss of a hand, or by burying the young Spartan, if he be a beginner, with only his head above ground, well buttered or honeyed, and so exposing him for twelve or eighteen hours, to the torture of a burning sun, and innumerable flies and mosquitoes, who all feast on him undisturbed. These punishments are, however, often commuted for others of a more lenient kind. Even the judge himself has a strong fellow-feeling for a culprit of this description. When a man refuses to pay his debts, and has the means, on a creditor pushing his claims, the cadi takes possession of the debtor’s property, pays the demand, and takes a handsome per centage for his trouble. It is necessary, however, that the debtor should give his consent; but this is not long withheld, as he is pinioned and laid on his back until it is given; for all which trouble and restiveness, he pays handsomely to the cadi; and they seldom find that a man gets into a scrape of this kind twice. On the other hand, should a man be in debt, and unable to pay, on clearly proving his poverty, he is at liberty. The judge then says, “God send you the means;”—the bystanders say, “Amen:” and the insolvent has full liberty to trade where he pleases. But if, at any future time, his creditors catch him with even two tobes on, or a red cap, on taking him before the cadi, all superfluous habiliments are stripped off, and given towards payment of his debts.

The towns generally are large, and well built; they have walls, thirty-five and forty feet in height, and nearly twenty feet in thickness. They have four entrances, with three gates to each, made of solid planks eight or ten inches thick, and fastened together with heavy clamps of iron. The houses consist of several court-yards, between four walls, with apartments leading out of them for slaves; then a passage, and an inner court, leading to the habitations of the different wives, who have each a square space to themselves, enclosed by walls, and a handsome thatched hut. From thence also you ascend a wide stair-case of five or six steps, leading to the apartments of the owner, which consist of two buildings like towers or turrets, with a terrace of communication between them, looking into the street, with a castellated window. The walls are made of reddish clay, as smooth as stucco, and the roofs most tastefully arched on the inside with branches, and thatched on the out with a grass known in Barbary by the name of _lidthur_. The horns of the gazelle and the antelope serve as a substitute for nails or pegs. These are fixed in different parts of the walls, and on them hang the quivers, bows, spears, and shields of the chief. A man of consequence will sometimes have four of these terraces and eight turrets, forming the faces of his mansion or domain, with all the apartments of his women, within the space below. Not only those _en activité_ (as the French would say), but those on the superannuated list, are allowed habitations. Horses and other animals are usually allowed an enclosure near one of the court-yards forming the entrance. Dwellings, however, of this description are not common. Those generally used by the inhabitants are of four kinds:—

_Coosie_, which is a hut built entirely of straw.

_Bongo_, a hut with circular mud walls, thatched with straw.

_N’Geim kolunby_, and _fatto-sugdeeby_,—huts of coarse mats, made from the grass which grows near the lake. Our dwellings were called _bongos_, and were about eight feet in diameter inside, about the shape of a hay-stack, and with a hole at the bottom, about two feet and a half high, which we used to creep in and out at. Air, or light holes, we were obliged to dispense with, as they admitted both flies and mosquitoes, which were worse than darkness.

Their utensils are few, and consist of earthen pots, which they make beautifully for cooking, and wooden bowls for dishes. Water, which is their only beverage, is drunk from a large calabash, which grows wild near the rivers, after being cooled in earthen jars. They sleep on mats covered with the skins of animals. Married women are extremely superstitious, in having their beds covered with the skins of particular animals when their husbands visit them; and never fail to predict the fate and fortune of a child, in consequence of these arrangements. A panther or a leopard’s skin is sure to produce a boy, or nothing. Should the father be a soldier, and a chief, the boy will be a warrior, bold, but bloody. A lion’s skin is said to prevent child-bearing altogether; yet exceptions to this rule sometimes occur. It is then always a boy, and a wonderful one. He puts his foot on the necks of all the world, and is alike brave, generous, and fortunate. Leather cushions of various colours, and fancifully ornamented, are brought from Soudan, and are used as pillows by persons of superior rank; who also have a small Turkey carpet, on which they sit or sleep, and the price of which is a young female slave.

The amusements of the people consist in meeting together in the evening, either in the court-yard of one of the houses of the great, or under the shades formed with mats, which are in the open places of the town, where prayers are said at the different appointed hours by the Iman or priest. Here they talk, and sometimes play a game resembling chess, with beans, and twelve holes made in the sand. The Arabs have a game similar to this, which they play with camels’ dung in the desert; but the Bornouese are far more skilful.

Like the birds, their day finishes when the sun goes down; but very few, even of the great people, indulge in the luxury of a lamp, which is made of iron, and filled with bullocks’ fat. They have no oil. A few jars are brought by the Tripoli merchants from the valleys of the Gharian, as presents only. Soap is also an article they are greatly in want of. An oily juice, which exudes from the stem of a thorny tree, called _Kadahnia_, or _mika dahniah_, resembling a gum, enables the people of Soudan to make a coarse soap, by mixing it with bullocks’ fat and trona. It is something like soft soap, and has a pleasant smell. This is brought in small wooden boxes, holding less than half a pound, which sell for seven rottala each, two-thirds of a dollar. From this tree is also procured a nut, from which a purer oil is extracted, which they burn in Soudan, and is also used by the women, to anoint their heads and bodies. This tree is not found in Bornou.

The skin of their sheep is covered with a long hair; wool therefore they have none. Brass and copper are brought in small quantities from Barbary. A large copper kettle will sell for a slave. The brass is worked into leglets, and worn by the women.

A small brass basin tinned is a present for a sultan, and is used to drink out of. Four or five dollars, or a Soudan tobe, will scarcely purchase one. Gold is neither found in the country, nor is it brought into it. The Tuaricks are almost the only merchants visiting Soudan who trade in that metal, which they carry to Barbary and Egypt. It is said the sheikh has a store, which is brought him directly from Soudan.

Iron is procured in the Mandara mountains, but is not brought in large quantities, and it is coarse. The best iron comes from Soudan, worked up in that country into good pots and kettles. The money of Bornou is the manufacture of the country. Strips of cotton, about three inches wide, and a yard in length, are called gubbuk; and three, four, and five of these, according to their texture, go to a rottala. Ten rottala are now equal to a dollar.