Chapter XX: Section II: From Murmur to Kano

At day-break, on the following morning, I resumed my journey, trusting to the salutary effects of change of air and abstinence, as the best remedies both for mind and body. The road was swampy, and we crossed a narrow stream called Shashum, that falls into the Yow, near the town. There were numerous villages on all sides.

Jan. 14.—Thermometer 52°. Our road lay through a well cultivated country; at nine o’clock, A.M., we came to the town of Digoo, having an indifferent double wall, and a triple ditch nearly filled up. The town contained very few houses, but date trees were in great abundance; outside the walls, however, there were several villages, or rather detached clusters of houses. The country afterwards began to rise into ridges, running nearly east and west; our road lying along one of them, gave me an excellent view of beautiful villages all around, and herds of cattle grazing in the open country. In the evening we halted under the walls of a town called Boogawa; this is the last town in the province of Katagum: I did not enter it.

Jan. 15.—The road to-day was through a thickly wooded country. Before mid-day, we again crossed the Shashum, which here runs nearly due north. The camel-drivers brought me a quantity of wild figs, which they found on the trees by the road side, near the river. We next entered an open, well cultivated country, and in the evening halted at a town called Katungwa, which is surrounded by a wall, and has a number of fine date trees. This was the first town I entered in the kingdom of Haussa Proper. I was visited by a Felatah, who had been at Bagdad, Constantinople, Jerusalem, and Mecca, and belonged to the order of Dervishes. He was a chattering little fellow, and told me he had seen the Wahabees at Mecca, who, he said, were the same people and spoke the same language as the Felatahs. I made him a present of a pair of scissors and a snuff-box, of which he seemed very proud, and sent me a bowl of bazeen in the evening. I here saw a range of low rocky hills, stretching nearly south-west. They are called, in the language of Haussa, Dooshee, or The Rocks, from which a large town on one of the roads leading from Katagum to Kano takes its name. Since we left the Wells of Bellkashiffra, on the southern borders of the great desert, we had not met with rocks, or even pebbles, till now, the very channels of the rivers being destitute of stones, and the whole country consisting of soft alluvial clay. The camels were missing, and I sent all the servants after them; they were not brought back before midnight, being found on their return to Bornou.

Jan. 16.—The country still open and well cultivated, and the villages numerous. We met crowds of people coming from Kano with goods. Some carried them on their heads, others had asses or bullocks, according to their wealth. All were armed with bows and arrows, and several with swords; the Bornouese are known by carrying spears.

El Wordee and I having advanced before the cavalcade were waiting for it under a tree, near a town called Zangeia, when a man from Katagum went, of his own accord, and told the governor of Zangeia that a friend of the governor of Katagum was close at hand. The governor of Zangeia sent the man to tell us he would come and meet us on horseback, and show us a proper place to pitch our tents. We mounted our horses, and, led by the Katagumite who was so anxious for the honour of the friend of his master, we met the governor, about a quarter of a mile from the tree under which we had reposed ourselves. He was mounted on a very fine white horse, gaily caparisoned, and had seven attendants behind him, also on horseback, besides being accompanied by several men on foot, armed with bows and arrows. He advanced to us at full gallop, and, after many courteous welcomes, placed himself at our head, and rode before us into the town. On reaching his own house, he desired us to pitch our tents before his door, observing, “Here is a place of great safety.” The camels arriving with the baggage, I presented him with a razor, a knife, a pair of scissors, and some spices. He sent me, in return, some milk and bazeen, with grass and gussub for the horses. Although a governor, I found out he was only a eunuch, belonging to the governor of Kano. He was in person fat, coarse, and ugly, with a shrill squeaking voice, and kept me awake half the night, laughing and talking among his people.

Zangeia is situate near the extremity of the Dooshee range of hills, and must have been once a very large town, from the extensive walls which still remain. The inhabitants were slaughtered or sold by the Felatahs, and plantations of cotton, tobacco, and indigo now occupy the place where houses formerly stood. Indeed the town may be said to consist of a number of thinly scattered villages. Within the walls there is a ridge of loose blocks of stone, connected with the range of hills in the neighbourhood. These masses of rock may be about two hundred feet high, and give a romantic appearance to the neat huts clustering round the base, and to the fine plantations of cotton, tobacco, and indigo, which are separated from one another by rows of date trees, and are shaded by other large umbrageous trees, of whose names I am ignorant. The prospect to the south was bounded by high blue mountains. It was market day; plenty of beef, yams, sweet potatoes, &c. for sale.

Engraved by E. Finden.

VIEW INSIDE THE TOWN OF SANGIA.

IN HOUSSA.

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

Jan. 17.—The country still highly cultivated, and now diversified by hill and dale. We passed a remarkable range of little hillocks of grey granite; they were naked rocks, flattened or rounded at top, and appeared like detached masses of stone rising singly out of the earth. We also passed several walled towns quite deserted, the inhabitants having been sold by their conquerors, the Felatahs. Women sat spinning cotton by the road side, offering for sale, to the passing caravans, gussub water, roast meat, sweet potatoes, cashew nuts, &c. In the afternoon, we halted in a hollow, to the west of a town, or rather a collection of villages, called Nansarina, where it was also market day. The governor, when he heard of my arrival, sent me milk and bazeen. I sent him, in return, a pair of scissors and a snuff-box.

Jan. 18.—When I ascended the high ground this morning, I saw a range of hills to the south-west, which, I was told, were called Dul, from a large town at their base. They appeared to be 600 or 700 feet high, not peaked, but oval topped, and running in a direction nearly north and south. I could not learn how far southward they extended. We crossed a little stream, flowing to the north. The country continued beautiful, with numerous plantations, as neatly fenced as in England. The road was thronged with travellers, and the shady trees by the road side served, as yesterday, to shelter female hucksters. The women not engaged in the retail of their wares were busy spinning cotton, and from time to time surveyed themselves, with whimsical complacency, in a little pocket mirror. The soil is a strong red clay, large blocks of granite frequently appearing above the surface.

At eleven in the morning we halted at a walled town called Girkwa, through which I rode with El Wordee. The houses were in groups, with large intervening vacancies, the former inhabitants having also been sold; the walls are in good repair, and are surrounded by a dry ditch. It was market day, and we found a much finer market here than at Tripoli. I had an attack of ague,—the disease that chiefly prevails in these parts,—and was obliged to rest all day under the shade of a tree. A pretty Felatah girl, going to market with milk and butter, neat and spruce in her attire as a Cheshire dairy-maid, here accosted me with infinite archness and grace. She said I was of her own nation; and, after much amusing small talk, I pressed her, in jest, to accompany me on my journey, while she parried my solicitations with roguish glee, by referring me to her father and mother. I don’t know how it happened, but her presence seemed to dispel the effects of the ague. To this trifling and innocent memorial of a face and form, seen that day for the first and last time, but which I shall not readily forget, I may add the more interesting information to the good housewives of my own country, that the making of butter such as ours is confined to the nation of the Felatahs, and that it is both clean and excellent. So much is this domestic art cultivated, that from a useful prejudice or superstition, it is deemed unlucky to sell new milk; it may, however, be bestowed as a gift. Butter is also made in other parts of central Africa, but sold in an oily fluid state something like honey.

A native of Mourzuk who resides here sent me some kouskousoo and fowls. I received a visit from a black shreef, who informed me he had seen the sea, and that a river I should cross on the morrow communicated between the Kowara and the Yow. By the Kowara, I understood him to mean the river that passes Timbuctoo, and which, of late years, has been so much talked of in Europe, under the name of Niger. This was a piece of gratuitous information, for on cross-questioning him he could furnish no authority for his opinion. But I soon discovered the whole trick, by El Wordee strongly recommending me to give my informant a present. The country to the south and south-west was very hilly.

Jan. 19.—We crossed a water-course called Girkwa, from the name of the town in its immediate vicinity. It is the channel of the same river the black shreef alluded to, but did not now contain a drop of water. Indeed the channel itself is extremely shallow, and only about sixty or seventy yards across. The guide furnished me by the governor of Katagum told me, that the river took its rise in the mountains of Dul, and falling into another river, which we should soon come to, and which rose among the mountains of Nora, their united waters flowed into the Yow, to the north of Katagum.

The country was much the same as yesterday; clear of wood, well cultivated, and divided into plantations. At noon we crossed the river Sockwa, alluded to above, and forming a junction with the Girkwa. The water was not above ankle deep in the middle of the stream, which did not now fill one twentieth part of the channel, and both rivers, I have no doubt, are at all times fordable, even during the rainy season. About a mile from the banks of the river, we passed the town of Sockwa, which is defended by a high clay wall. Being very unwell, I did not enter the town, but rode on through a clear, open country, to the town of Duakee, where I halted under a tree until the camels came up. This town is also walled, but contains few inhabitants, although the walls, made of clay like all the others, are of great extent, and in good repair. Before four o’clock the camels arrived, and we pitched our tents under the tree where I had lain down. The road was still crowded, from sunrise to sunset, with people going to or coming from Kano.

Jan. 20.—By El Wordee’s advice, I prepared myself this morning for entering Kano, which was now at hand. Arrayed in naval uniform, I made myself as smart as circumstances would permit. For three miles to the north of Duakee, the country was open and well cultivated. It then became thickly covered with underwood, until we ascended a rising ground, whence we had a view of two little mounts within the walls of Kano. The soil here is a tough clay mixed with gravel, the stones of which appear to be clay ironstone. The country was now clear of wood, except here and there a few large shady trees, resorted to as usual by the women of the country selling refreshments. The villages were numerous, and the road was thronged with people of all descriptions.

At eleven o’clock we entered Kano, the great emporium of the kingdom of Haussa; but I had no sooner passed the gates, than I felt grievously disappointed; for from the flourishing description of it given by the Arabs, I expected to see a city of surprising grandeur: I found, on the contrary, the houses nearly a quarter of a mile from the walls, and in many parts scattered into detached groups, between large stagnant pools of water. I might have spared all the pains I had taken with my toilet; for not an individual turned his head round to gaze at me, but all, intent on their own business, allowed me to pass by without notice or remark.

I went with El Wordee directly to the house of Hadje Hat Salah, to whom I had a letter of recommendation from the sheikh of Bornou. We found Hat Salah sitting under a rude porch in front of his house amid a party of Arabs, Tuaricks, and people of the town. When El Wordee presented me, and told him of the sheikh’s letter of recommendation, he bade me welcome, and desired me to sit down by his side. After exchanging many compliments, I inquired for the house he had hired for me, as El Wordee had sent a messenger on horseback the day before, to inform him of my approach, and to request him to have a house ready for my reception. Hat Salah now sent one of his slaves to conduct us to the house.

We had to retrace our steps more than half a mile through the market-place, which is bordered to the east and west by an extensive swamp covered with reeds and water, and frequented by wild ducks, cranes, and a filthy kind of vulture. The last is extremely useful, and by picking up offal serves as a sort of town scavenger. The house provided for me was situated at the south end of the morass, the pestilential exhalations of which, and of the pools of standing water, were increased by the sewers of the houses all opening into the street. I was fatigued and sick, and lay down on a mat that the owner of the house spread for me. I was immediately visited by all the Arab merchants who had been my fellow travellers from Kouka, and were not prevented by sickness from coming to see me. They were more like ghosts than men, as almost all strangers were at this time, suffering from intermittent fever. My house had six chambers above, extremely dark, and five rooms below, with a dismal looking entrance or lobby, a back court, draw-well, and other conveniences. Little holes or windows admitted a glimmering light into the apartments. Nevertheless this was here thought a handsome mansion. I paid at first a rent of three dollars a month; but it was afterwards reduced to two dollars. El Wordee was my next door neighbour.

In the evening Hat Salah sent me a sheep, some honey, and a dinner ready cooked. I received a similar present from Michah Eben Taleb, the brother of an Arab merchant of Sockna, residing at Kouka, to whom I had a letter of introduction, with an order for the payment of a hundred dollars.

Jan. 21.—The weather cool and clear. This afternoon I delivered to Hadje Hat Salah the sheikh’s letter, and accompanied it with a present of two turban shawls, made of wool and cotton, one white, the other red, both of French manufacture, a scarlet Turkish jacket, lined with silk and trimmed with gold lace, that had belonged to the late Dr. Oudney, two clasp knives, two razors, two pair of scissors, two paper snuff-boxes, and one of tin, about a pound of spices, and a parcel of thin brass ornaments for children’s caps. These are of the size of a sixpence, stamped with fancy heads, and made at Trieste for the Barbary market. He was much pleased with my present, and promised to present me to the governor in two days. In the evening provisions were sent me as before, both by Hat Salah and Michah Eben Taleb.

Jan. 22.—I had a visit from Hat Salah to-day, when I presented him with half a pound of French gunpowder and a few flints. Being very unwell, I remained at home all day.

Jan. 23.—I was still confined to the house by indisposition. In the evening I overheard a conversation concerning the river Quarra, between my servant and the man the governor of Katagum sent with me. The latter described it as running into the sea at Baka, and added the following particulars. The country is called Yowriba by the natives. The ships of Christians visit the town, which is only twenty-four days’ journey from Nyffee at a quick rate of travelling, or thirty-two days at a leisurely pace. The river is there as wide as from Kano to Katagum, and the waters salt. Although I think proper to notice this incident, I must at the same time observe, that I place little dependence on such accounts. Next morning I put several questions to him, but he told me quite a different story; for it is commonly believed among them that strangers would come and take their country from them, if they knew the course of the Quarra. Nyffee, as I afterwards learned, is distant from Kano about twelve days’ journey.

Jan. 24.—At seven in the morning I set out, accompanied by El Wordee and Hat Salah, to visit the governor, who was at the sansan, or camp, five miles east of Kano. I took with me the sheikh’s letter and a present I had prepared the day before, consisting of a sword, a tea-tray, a spy-glass, twenty yards of yellow silk, a white turban, a French shawl, three snuff-boxes, two razors, four clasp knives, two pair of scissors, a few brass trinkets for children’s caps, as already described, and two pounds of spices, besides a broken thermometer, which I understood would be very acceptable. Of course, I could not spare either of the only two thermometers which had hitherto escaped accidents. A thermometer is descriptively named by the natives “a watch of heat,” and was every where regarded as a great curiosity. I also took a present for the wan-bey, or governor’s chief minister, of a French shawl, a large Egyptian shawl, a pound of cloves and cinnamon, a razor, a clasp knife, a pair of scissors, and two snuff-boxes. The sansan, where the governor now was, is a rendezvous for the army. The governor then intended to march against Dantanqua, a former governor of Kano who was deposed, and who, having rebelled, had seized upon a large town and territory called Doura, only distant one day’s journey, or about twenty-two English miles, according to the common allowance for a day’s journey. I was not a little surprised to find this sansan a walled town of considerable extent. El Wordee and Hat Salah informed me it had been built these five years, the governor of Kano having made for that period a yearly excursion against the rebels, without ever bringing them to a decisive engagement.

We proceeded immediately to the governor’s house, which is about 500 or 600 yards from the gate. At the outer guard house, I found all the Arab merchants in attendance, with the horses they had for sale. The governor is always entitled to the first choice; but if he declines them at the price affixed, any other person may become the purchaser. We were shown into the house of the wan-bey, until the governor was ready to receive us. In a short time he sent for me: I was accompanied by El Wordee and Hat Salah; but as he does not usually admit Arab merchants into his presence, El Wordee was in this instance specially favoured on my account. When introduced, we had to pass through three coozees or guard houses, the walls of which were covered with shields, and the doors guarded by black eunuchs. These coozees were connected by screens of matting covered over head. The governor was seated at the entrance of an inner coozee. After shaking hands with him, he desired us to sit down: I then produced the presents, explaining to him particularly the use of the spy-glass, and commending the sword, by acquainting him that such were worn by the great nobles of England, when they attended on the king. He seemed highly pleased, and bade me a thousand welcomes to the country. I next delivered the sheikh El Kanemy’s letter. He read it, and told me he expected to return to Kano in fifteen days, and would then send me to his master Bello, who, he knew, would be very glad to see me. We shook hands again at parting. The governor is a Felatah, of a dark copper colour and stout make, and has the character of being very devout and learned. Except El Wordee and Hat Salah, the wan bey was the only person present, at this interview, whom we next accompanied to his house, where I gave him his present without any ceremony. He was a thin, slender man, of a pretty fair complexion, with only one eye, and was clad in a rather dirty tobe. He was said to be the father of fifty sons—a circumstance which is here regarded as a matter of much respect and honour. I returned immediately to Kano; but Hat Salah and El Wordee remained behind to sell some horses. Hat Salah had two horses belonging to the late Dr. Oudney to dispose of; one of which was given to him by the sheikh of Bornou, and the other was palmed upon us at Kouka by Hadje Ali Bookhaloom for eighty dollars. The governor of Kano frequently gives from 100 to 120 dollars for a good horse. Mares are seldom for sale, and are highly prized, both for breeding, and because they do not neigh on approaching other horses—a quality that especially fits them for predatory inroads. Geldings are unknown.

Jan. 25 and 26.—I was solicited by some merchants of Ghadamis, settled here, to take supplies of goods or money to any amount, for my bill on our Tripolitan consul; but, having no occasion for advances, I declined this unexpected offer of accommodation, which was frequently and urgently tendered. Ghadamis—the ancient Bydamus—is an inland town in the state of Tripoli, and its merchants are famed over all central Africa for fair dealing and the extent of their commercial transactions.

Jan. 27 and 28.—The governor sent me a present of a sheep; an immense gourd, upwards of two feet in diameter, filled with wheat; and two other gourds of the same dimensions, filled with rice. A kafila from Bornou arrived to-day. It brought a letter from the sheikh to Hat Salah, warning him not to purchase any slaves, as they would not be allowed to pass through Bornou, on account of the detention of the sheikh’s children in Fezzan, who had been sent there for protection during a recent invasion by the people of Begharmi.

Jan. 29.—A courier to-day, from Major Denham at Kouka, brought me letters and newspapers from England; also gunpowder, coffee, tea, and sugar, Peruvian bark, and three bottles of Port wine; three silver watches, and some articles of dress, such as red caps of Tunis, red Turkish trowsers, and Bornouses, or woollen cloaks, with hoods from Tripoli. Mr. Warrington, our consul at Tripoli, also forwarded a teskara, or order from the bashaw, which Major Denham took care to have enforced by a letter from the sheikh of Bornou, both addressed to Hadje Ali, requiring him to pay the money due by his deceased brother. The sheikh likewise wrote to Hat Salah, requesting him to exert all his influence to overcome the scruples of Hadje Ali; for Hadje Bos Zaid, the other executor, never once hesitated about the matter. The newspapers first apprised me of Belzoni’s attempt to penetrate to Timbuctoo by the way of Fez.

Jan. 30.—Ill with ague.

Jan. 31.—A little better.

Feb. 1. 1824.—After breakfast I accompanied Hat Salah, the sheikh’s agent, to the sansan, which, since it became a town, is also called Fanisoe, and presented the governor with one of the watches. He was highly pleased with it, and requested me to teach Hat Salah the use of it, that he might give lessons to the wan-bey, who would in turn instruct him. I also showed him the sheikh’s letter to his master Bello. He read it, and told me I should be sent forward to Sackatoo without delay in a kafila which was then assembling.

On my return I met two governors with troops repairing to the sansan. They had each about five hundred horse and foot. The foot were armed with bows and arrows. The quiver is slung over the left shoulder, together with a small, highly ornamented leathern pouch for little necessaries, and a canteen of dried grass, so compactly plaited, that it is used for holding water. The bow unstrung is sometimes carried in the hand as a walking stick. Many carried on the head a little triangular bag, filled with bruised Guinea corn. Others wore a little conical grass cap, with a tuft of feathers. The rest of their dress consists solely of a tanned skin, strung with coarse shells, or fringed with tassels, girt round the loins, and a pair of sandals of very simple workmanship.

The cavalry were armed with shields, swords, and spears, and otherwise more sumptuously accoutred. The spear is about six feet long, the wooden shaft slender, and the point of iron. The swords are broad, straight, and long, but require no particular description, as, by a vicissitude somewhat singular, they are in fact the very blades formerly wielded by the knights of Malta. These swords are sent from Malta to Bengazee, in the state of Tripoli, where they are exchanged for bullocks. They are afterwards carried across the desert to Bornou, thence to Haussa, and at last remounted at Kano, for the use of the inhabitants of almost all central Africa. The shields, covered with the hides of tame or wild animals, are generally plain and round. There is, however, a remarkable variety, not uncommon, of an oval shape, somewhat broader below than above, with an edging of blue cloth, forming six little lappets, one above, one below, and two on each side. In the centre of the shield there is a stripe of scarlet cloth fastened by the same studs that clinch the iron handle, and around it is scored a perfect Maltese cross. This kind of shield is borne by horsemen only; but it is found of the same shape and figure, equally among Tibboes, Tuaricks, Felatahs, and Bornouese. A cross of the same form, moulded in a sort of low relief, is not an unfrequent ornament on the clay plaster of their huts. Crosses of other forms also are sometimes cut in the doors of their houses. Several camels, loaded with quilted cotton armour, both for men and horses, were in attendance. One of the governor’s slaves wore a quilted helmet of red cloth, very unwieldy, not unlike a bucket in shape, only scooped out in front for the face, and terminating on the crown in a large tin funnel, full of ostrich feathers. He was also clad in a red quilted corslet of the same cumbrous materials. The other articles of this armour are trunk hose for the rider, and a head piece, poitrel, and hausing, all quilted and arrow proof, for the horse. Armour, however, is hardly ever worn, except in actual combat, and then it must very much impede the quickness of their military evolutions. The saddles have high peaks before and behind. The stirrup irons are in the shape of a fire-shovel, turned up at the sides, and so sharp as to render spurs superfluous. This body of heavy horse protects the advance and retreat of the army, the bowmen being drawn up in the rear, and shooting from between the horsemen as occasion offers.

Feb. 2.—This morning I was visited by a nephew of sultan Bello, who arrived yesterday from Sackatoo. He was a lad of a dark copper colour, and of a thin active make, like all the Felatahs. I ordered tea to be presented to him; but he would not taste it, till the brother of El Wordee set him the example, when he ventured to drink a cup, and soon became very fond of it. Before this visit he considered a Christian little better than a monster, as he confessed to me, though, perhaps, with some degree of flattery. I showed him all my instruments, and the presents intended for his uncle, the sultan.

Feb. 3.—I had a visit from another nephew of the sultan, one of the finest and most intelligent young men I had seen in this country. He read and spoke Arabic with ease and fluency, and was very anxious to see every thing, and to hear all about my country. He assured me the sultan would be delighted to see me, and said he had a large collection of books, which he made him read aloud. He told me there was a camel road from Sackatoo to Timbuctoo, which, however, was rendered dangerous by the Kafirs of Cobee, a country lying between the two towns.

Feb. 4.—The governor sent back the two horses he had on trial; but this was to be expected, one of them having galled withers, and the other being nothing but skin and bone. He returned, at the same time, a number of the horses belonging to the Arab merchants, who came to me with loud clamours against this alleged act of injustice. I warily answered, in one of their own hypocritical exaggerations, “Whatever the sultan does is beautiful;” for I knew they only wanted to entrap me into an unguarded expression, which would be repeated to the governor, either to my disadvantage, or to induce him to take all the horses at the price first demanded. Accordingly I was no more troubled with their complaints on this subject.

Feb. 5 and 6.—I had a conversation with Abdelgader, a relation of sultan Bello, at the house of a Ghadamis merchant. Abdelgader was particularly inquisitive about our religious observances, prayers, the worship of images, and the eating of pork. I told him we were commanded by our religion to pray without ceasing; but as no people on earth does as it ought, we generally prayed at stated times. The worship of images, with which I was repeatedly charged, I indignantly abjured. Of course I represented the eating of pork as a mere matter of policy. My Mahomedan catechist next inquired, with some degree of ridicule, as to the doctrine of the Trinity; and turning to his countrymen who were present, without waiting for my reply, exclaimed, in allusion to the three persons of the God-head:—“Father, Son, and Uncle.” In this way Mahometans are wont to turn to scorn the pure morals inculcated by Christianity, both in precept and in practice. Abdelgader next expressed great curiosity to have my Jew servant, Jacob, sent for. I declined; explaining to him that it was utterly inconsistent with the toleration to which I had ever been accustomed, to have any man interrogated by constraint respecting his religious opinions; but that, with his own consent, he might be asked any questions Abdelgader pleased. I left the party soon after, and Jacob was prevailed upon to undergo a similar examination; but his holy zeal was quickly fired, for he soon returned home in a storm of passion. To put a stop to such acrimonious and dangerous discussions, I afterwards hinted to the Ghadamis merchant that a repetition of such conduct, in regard to my servants, would oblige me to complain to the bashaw of Tripoli.

Feb. 7.—Rather sick to-day.

Feb. 8.—The governor returned to the sansan with his army; and the current report was, that they had entered the capital of the enemy; and, supposing Duntungua to have fled to the forest, they began to enjoy themselves in banquets and carousals, when Duntungua suddenly fell upon them with his army, and killed fifteen thousand men, the rest flying in the greatest confusion to Fanisoe.

Feb. 9.—Again unwell.

Feb. 10.—Kano is the capital of a province of the same name, and one of the principal towns of the kingdom of Soudan, and is situate in 12° 0′ 19″ north latitude by observation, and 9° 20′ east longitude by dead reckoning, carried on from a lunar observation at Kouka, in Bornou.

Kano may contain from 30,000 to 40,000 resident inhabitants, of whom more than one half are slaves. This estimate of the population is of course conjectural, and must be received with due allowance, although I have studiously under-rated my rough calculations on the subject. This number is exclusive of strangers who come here in crowds during the dry months from all parts of Africa, from the Mediterranean and the Mountains of the Moon, and from Sennar and Ashantee.

The city is rendered very unhealthy by a large morass, which almost divides it into two parts, besides many pools of stagnant water, made by digging clay for building houses. The house gutters also open into the street, and frequently occasion an abominable stench. On the north side of the city are two remarkable mounts, each about 200 feet in height, lying nearly east and west from one another, and a trifling distance apart. They are formed of argillaceous iron-stone, mixed with pebbles, and a rather soft kind of marl. The city is of an irregular oval shape, about fifteen miles in circumference, and surrounded by a clay wall thirty feet high, with a dry ditch along the inside, and another on the outside. There are fifteen gates, including one lately built up. The gates are of wood, covered with sheet iron, and are regularly opened and shut at sunrise and sunset. A platform inside, with two guardhouses below it, serves to defend each entrance. Not more than one fourth of the ground within the walls is occupied by houses: the vacant space is laid out in fields and gardens. The large morass, nearly intersecting the city from east to west, and crossed by a small neck of land, on which the market is held, is overflowed in the rainy season. The water of the city being considered unwholesome, women are constantly employed hawking water about the streets, from the favourite springs in the neighbourhood. The houses are built of clay, and are mostly of a square form, in the Moorish fashion, with a central room, the roof of which is supported by the trunks of palm trees, where visitors and strangers are received. The apartments of the ground floor open into this hall of audience, and are generally used as store-rooms. A staircase leads to an open gallery overlooking the hall, and serving as a passage to the chambers of the second story, which are lighted with small windows. In a back courtyard there is a well and other conveniences. Within the enclosure in which the house stands, there are also a few round huts of clay, roofed with the stalks of Indian corn, and thatched with long grass. These are usually very neat and clean, and of a much larger size than those of Bornou. The governor’s residence covers a large space, and resembles a walled village. It even contains a mosque, and several towers three or four stories high, with windows in the European style, but without glass or frame-work. It is necessary to pass through two of these towers in order to gain the suite of inner apartments occupied by the governor.

The soug, or market, is well supplied with every necessary and luxury in request among the people of the interior. It is held, as I have mentioned, on a neck of land between two swamps; and as this site is covered with water during the rainy season, the holding it here is consequently limited to the dry months, when it is numerously frequented as well by strangers as inhabitants: indeed, there is no market in Africa so well regulated. The sheikh of the soug lets the stalls at so much a month, and the rent forms a part of the revenues of the governor. The sheikh of the soug also fixes the prices of all wares, for which he is entitled to a small commission, at the rate of fifty whydah or cowries, on every sale amounting to four dollars or 8,000 cowries, according to the standard exchange between silver money and this shell currency. There is another custom regulated with equal certainty and in universal practice: the seller returns to the buyer a stated part of the price, by way of blessing, as they term it, or of luck-penny, according to our less devout phraseology. This is a discount of two per cent. on the purchase money; but, if the bargain is made in a hired house, it is the landlord who receives the luck-penny. I may here notice the great convenience of the cowrie, which no forgery can imitate; and which, by the dexterity of the natives in reckoning the largest sums, forms a ready medium of exchange in all transactions, from the lowest to the highest. Particular quarters are appropriated to distinct articles; the smaller wares being set out in booths in the middle, and cattle and bulky commodities being exposed to sale in the outskirts of the market-place: wood, dried grass, bean straw for provender, beans, Guinea corn, Indian corn, wheat, &c. are in one quarter; goats, sheep, asses, bullocks, horses, and camels, in another; earthenware and indigo in a third; vegetables and fruit of all descriptions, such as yams, sweet potatoes, water and musk melons, pappaw fruit, limes, cashew nuts, plums, mangoes, shaddocks, dates, &c. in a fourth, and so on. Wheaten flour is baked into bread of three different kinds; one like muffins, another like our twists, and the third a light puffy cake, with honey and melted butter poured over it. Rice is also made into little cakes. Beef and mutton are killed daily. Camel flesh is occasionally to be had, but is often meagre; the animal being commonly killed, as an Irish grazier might say, to save its life: it is esteemed a great delicacy, however, by the Arabs, when the carcass is fat. The native butchers are fully as knowing as our own, for they make a few slashes to show the fat, blow up meat, and sometimes even stick a little sheep’s wool on a leg of goat’s flesh, to make it pass with the ignorant for mutton. When a fat bull is brought to market to be killed, its horns are dyed red with henna; drummers attend, a mob soon collects, the news of the animal’s size and fatness spreads, and all run to buy. The colouring of the horns is effected by applying the green leaves of the henna tree, bruised into a kind of poultice. Near the shambles there is a number of cook-shops in the open air; each consisting merely of a wood fire, stuck round with wooden skewers, on which small bits of fat and lean meat, alternately mixed, and scarcely larger than a pennypiece each, are roasting. Every thing looks very clean and comfortable; and a woman does the honours of the table, with a mat dish-cover placed on her knees, from which she serves her guests, who are squatted around her. Ground gussub water is retailed at hand, to those who can afford this beverage at their repast: the price, at most, does not exceed twenty cowries, or about two farthings and ⁴⁄₁₀ of a farthing, English money, estimating the dollar at five shillings. Those who have houses eat at home; women never resort to cook-shops, and even at home eat apart from men.

The interior of the market is filled with stalls of bamboo, laid out in regular streets; where the more costly wares are sold, and articles of dress, and other little matters of use or ornament made and repaired. Bands of musicians parade up and down to attract purchasers to particular booths. Here are displayed coarse writing paper, of French manufacture, brought from Barbary; scissors and knives, of native workmanship; crude antimony and tin, both the produce of the country; unwrought silk of a red colour, which they make into belts and slings, or weave in stripes into the finest cotton tobes; armlets and bracelets of brass; beads of glass, coral, and amber; finger rings of pewter, and a few silver trinkets, but none of gold; tobes, turkadees, and turban shawls; coarse woollen cloths of all colours; coarse calico; Moorish dresses; the cast off gaudy garbs of the Mamelukes of Barbary; pieces of Egyptian linen, checked or striped with gold; sword blades from Malta, &c. &c. The market is crowded from sunrise to sunset every day, not excepting their Sabbath, which is kept on Friday. The merchants understand the benefits of monopoly as well as any people in the world; they take good care never to overstock the market, and if any thing falls in price, it is immediately withdrawn for a few days.—The market is regulated with the greatest fairness, and the regulations are strictly and impartially enforced. If a tobe or turkadee, purchased here, is carried to Bornou or any other distant place, without being opened, and is there discovered to be of inferior quality, it is immediately sent back, as a matter of course,—the name of the _dylala_, or broker, being written inside every parcel. In this case the _dylala_ must find out the seller, who, by the laws of Kano, is forthwith obliged to refund the purchase money.

The slave market is held in two long sheds, one for males, the other for females, where they are seated in rows, and carefully decked out for the exhibition; the owner, or one of his trusty slaves, sitting near them. Young or old, plump or withered, beautiful or ugly, are sold without distinction; but, in other respects, the buyer inspects them with the utmost attention, and somewhat in the same manner as a volunteer seaman is examined by a surgeon on entering the navy: he looks at the tongue, teeth, eyes, and limbs, and endeavours to detect rupture by a forced cough. If they are afterwards found to be faulty or unsound, or even without any specific objection, they may be returned within three days. When taken home, they are stripped of their finery, which is sent back to their former owner. Slavery is here so common, or the mind of slaves is so constituted, that they always appeared much happier than their masters; the women, especially, singing with the greatest glee all the time they are at work. People become slaves by birth or by capture in war. The Felatahs frequently manumit slaves at the death of their master, or on the occasion of some religious festival. The letter of manumission must be signed before the cadi, and attested by two witnesses; and the mark of a cross is used by the illiterate among them, just as with us. The male slaves are employed in the various trades of building, working in iron, weaving, making shoes or clothes, and in traffic; the female slaves in spinning, baking, and selling water in the streets. Of the various people who frequent Kano, the _Nyffuans_ are most celebrated for their industry; as soon as they arrive, they go to market and buy cotton for their women to spin, who, if not employed in this way, make _billam_ for sale, which is a kind of flummery made of flour and tamarinds. The very slaves of this people are in great request, being invariably excellent tradesmen; and when once obtained, are never sold again out of the country.

I bought, for three Spanish dollars, an English green cotton umbrella, an article I little expected to meet with, yet by no means uncommon: my Moorish servants, in their figurative language, were wont to give it the name of “the cloud.” I found, on inquiry, that these umbrellas are brought from the shores of the Mediterranean, by the way of Ghadamis.

NEGRESS OF JACOBA.

NEGRESS OF NYFFEE.

UMBURUM SOUTH OF KANO.

GOOBUR AND ZAMFRA.

Drawn by Captn. Clapperton. R.N.

Etched by E. Finden.

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

A large kafila of Tuaricks, loaded solely with salt, arrived here from Billma. The Arabs told me it consisted of 3,000 camels; at all events, the kafila was extremely numerous.

Feb. 11.—A Felatah of respectability having arrived from the sultan, with offers of every accommodation on my journey, I visited the governor to compliment him on his return, and to inquire about my departure for Sackatoo. He received me with much civility, and, addressing me like an old acquaintance by my travelling name, Abdallah, he assured me I should set out in six days.

Feb. 12.—The weather was cold, and we had a fire all day. Indeed it is the invariable practice here to have fires all the year round, both in the wet and dry season, although generally I did not find one necessary.

Feb. 13 and 14.—I had a visit from the governor’s eldest son, a stupid fellow, who was afraid to taste a cup of tea with which I presented him. He bluntly told me, I possessed the power of changing people into rats, cats, dogs, and monkeys. I made a servant drink the tea he had refused, and then remarked, “Thank God, neither I, nor any one else, was able to work such wonders, otherwise both of us probably had been long ago metamorphosed into asses, and compelled to bear burdens on our backs.” He affected to blame the people of the town for these reports, and told me they were further persuaded, that, by reading in my book, I could at any time turn a handful of earth into gold. I easily refuted this absurdity, by asking him why I applied to Hadje Hat Salah for money if I knew such a secret. He now became somewhat tranquillized, and sipped a little of the tea, but with fear and trembling. He afterwards begged for a black-lead pencil, which I did not choose to give him. A son of Sultan Bello, named Abdelgader, also paid me a visit. He returns, early to-morrow morning, to Sackatoo.

Feb. 15.—This afternoon I ascended the eastern mount (one of the two already described) to take an eye sketch of the plan of the town, which, as nearly as I could guess it, may be represented as under. By way of precaution, I was accompanied by Hat Salah’s eldest son, to prevent the people fancying I was going to perform some magical feat. On the eastern side of the mount, the young man gravely pointed out to me the print of the foot of the she-camel on which the Prophet rode to heaven. It was certainly very like the print of a camel’s foot, only much larger, and seemed to be a hole where two stones had been picked out. I asked my companion, if the prophet’s naga, or she-camel, had only one leg. “Oh!” said he, “it had four.” Where are the other three? “Oh!” he replied, “God has done it:” an unanswerable argument, which with them settles all points of religious controversy. He added, “All the faithful of Soudan believe in the truth of this story.” The mount I found to consist of strata of clay iron-stone, and conglomerate, lying on a bed of soft light clay, apparently mixed with vegetable remains.

Feb. 16.—Early this morning two massi dubu, or jugglers, came to my door. Two snakes were let out of a bag, when one of the jugglers began to beat a little drum. The snakes immediately reared themselves on their tail, and made a kind of sham dance. The juggler afterwards played various tricks with them, sometimes wreathing them round his neck, coiling them in his bosom, or throwing them among the people. On pointing his finger at their mouth, they immediately raised themselves up in an attitude to spring forward; but after having exasperated them to the utmost, he had only to spit in their face to make them retreat quite crestfallen. I measured one of them: it was six feet three inches long; the head large, flat, and blunted, and, along the neck, a kind of gills fully two inches in breadth, and five inches in length, which they elevated when angry. The back and belly were of a dull white, and the sides of a dark lead colour. Between the gills there were five red stripes across the throat, decreasing in size from the mouth downwards. The venomous fangs had been extracted; but still, to guard against all possible injury, the fellow who played tricks with them had a large roll of cloth wound round the right arm. Their bite is said to be mortal, and to prove fatal to a horse or a cow in half an hour.

Having heard a great deal of the boxers of Haussa, I was anxious to witness their performance. Accordingly I sent one of my servants last night to offer 2000 whydah for a pugilistic exhibition in the morning. As the death of one of the combatants is almost certain before a battle is over, I expressly prohibited all fighting in earnest; for it would have been disgraceful, both to myself and my country, to hire men to kill one another for the gratification of idle curiosity. About half an hour after the massi dubu were gone, the boxers arrived, attended by two drums, and the whole body of butchers, who here compose “the fancy.” A ring was soon formed, by the master of the ceremonies throwing dust on the spectators to make them stand back. The drummers entered the ring, and began to drum lustily. One of the boxers followed, quite naked, except a skin round the middle. He placed himself in an attitude as if to oppose an antagonist, and wrought his muscles into action, seemingly to find out that every sinew was in full force for the approaching combat; then coming from time to time to the side of the ring, and presenting his right arm to the bystanders, he said, “I am a hyena;” “I am a lion;” “I am able to kill all that oppose me.” The spectators, to whom he presented himself, laid their hands on his shoulder, repeating, “The blessing of God be upon thee;” “Thou art a hyena;” “Thou art a lion.” He then abandoned the ring to another, who showed off in the same manner. The right hand and arm of the pugilists were now bound with narrow country cloth, beginning with a fold round the middle finger, when, the hand being first clinched with the thumb between the fore and mid fingers, the cloth was passed in many turns round the fist, the wrist, and the fore arm. After about twenty had separately gone through their attitudes of defiance, and appeals to the bystanders, they were next brought forward by pairs. If they happened to be friends, they laid their left breasts together twice, and exclaimed, “We are lions;” “We are friends.” One then left the ring, and another was brought forward. If the two did not recognise one another as friends, the set-to immediately commenced. On taking their stations, the two pugilists first stood at some distance, parrying with the left hand open, and, whenever opportunity offered, striking with the right. They generally aimed at the pit of the stomach, and under the ribs. Whenever they closed, one seized the other’s head under his arm, and beat it with his fist, at the same time striking with his knee between his antagonist’s thighs. In this position, with the head _in chancery_, they are said sometimes to attempt to gouge or scoop out one of the eyes. When they break loose, they never fail to give a swinging blow with the heel under the ribs, or sometimes under the left ear. It is these blows which are so often fatal. The combatants were repeatedly separated by my orders, as they were beginning to lose their temper. When this spectacle was heard of, girls left their pitchers at the wells, the market people threw down their baskets, and all ran to see the fight. The whole square before my house was crowded to excess. After six pairs had gone through several rounds, I ordered them, to their great satisfaction, the promised reward, and the multitude quietly dispersed.

Both Hat Salah and Benderachmani, another Fezzan merchant residing here, had been with the late Mr. Hornemann at the time of his death. They travelled with him from Mourzuk to Nyffee, where he died of dysentery, after an illness of six days. He passed himself off as an English merchant, professing the Mahometan faith, and had sold two fine horses here. At my instance, Benderachmani sent a courier to Nyffee, to endeavour to recover Mr. Hornemann’s manuscripts, for which I offered him a reward of a hundred dollars; but, on my return from Sackatoo, I found the messenger come back with the information, that Jussuf Felatah, a learned man of the country, with whom Mr. Hornemann lodged, had been burned in his own house, together with all Mr. Hornemann’s papers, by the negro rabble, from a superstitious dread of his holding intercourse with evil spirits.

All the date trees, of which there is a great number, as well as the fig and pappaw trees, &c. together with the waste ground, and fields of wheat, onions, &c. bordering on the morass, belong to the governor. The date trees bear twice a year, before and after the annual rains, which fall between the middle of May and the end of August.

Cotton, after it is gathered from the shrub, is prepared by the careful housewife, or a steady female slave, by laying a quantity of it on a stone, or a piece of board, along which she twirls two slender iron rods about a foot in length, and thus dexterously separates the seeds from the cotton wool. The cotton is afterwards teazed or opened out with a small bone, something like an instrument used by us in the manufacture of hat felt. Women then spin it out of a basket upon a slender spindle. The basket always contains a little pocket mirror, used at least once every five minutes, for adjusting or contemplating their charms. It is now sold in yarn, or made into cloth. The common cloth of the country is, as formerly stated, only three or four inches broad. The weaver’s loom is very simple, having a fly and treadles like ours, but no beam; and the warp, fastened to a stone, is drawn along the ground as wanted. The shuttle is passed by the hand. When close at work, they are said to weave from twenty to thirty fathoms of cloth a day. Kano is famed over all central Africa for the dyeing of cloth; for which process there are numerous establishments. Indigo is here prepared in rather a different manner from that of India and America. When the plant is ripe, the fresh green tops are cut off, and put into a wooden trough about a foot and a half across, and one foot deep, in which, when pounded, they are left to ferment. When dry, this indigo looks like earth mixed with decayed grass, retains the shape of the trough, and three or four lumps being tied together with Indian corn-stalks, it is carried in this state to market. The apparatus for dyeing is a large pot of clay, about nine feet deep, and three feet broad, sunk in the earth. The indigo is thrown in, mixed with the ashes of the residuum of a former dyeing. These are prepared from the lees of the dye-pot, kneaded up and dried in the sun, after which they are burned. In the process of dyeing cold water alone is used. The articles to be dyed remain in the pot three or four days, and are frequently stirred up with a pole; besides which, they are well wrung out every night, and hung up to dry till morning, during which time the dye-pot is covered with a straw mat. After the tobes, turkadees, &c. are dyed, they are sent to the cloth-glazer, who places them between mats, laid over a large block of wood, and two men, with wooden mallets in each hand, continue to beat the cloth, sprinkling a little water from time to time upon the mats, until it acquires a japan-like gloss. The block for beating the tobes is part of the trunk of a large tree, and when brought to the gates of the city, the proprietor musters three or four drummers, at whose summons the mob never fails to assemble, and the block is gratuitously rolled to the workshop. The price of dyeing a good tobe of the darkest blue colour is 3000 cowries, or a dollar and a half; and for glazing it, 700 cowries. The total price of a tobe is 5000 cowries, and of a turkadee, from 2000 to 3000 cowries.

The women of this country, and of Bornou, dye their hair blue as well as their hands, feet, legs, and eyebrows. They prefer the paint called shunee, made in the following manner:—They have an old tobe slit up, and dyed a second time. They make a pit in the ground, moistening it with water, in which they put the old tobe, first imbedded in sheep’s dung, and well drenched with water, and then fill up the pit with wet earth. In winter the fire for domestic purposes is made close to the spot, and the pit remains unopened for ten days. In summer no fire is required; and after seven or eight days the remnants of the old tobe, so decayed in texture as barely to hang together, are taken out and dried in the sun for use. This paint sells at 400 cowries the gubga, or fathom; for this measure of length commonly gives name to the cloth itself. A little of the paint being mixed with water in a shell, with a feather in one hand, and a looking-glass in the other, the lady carefully embellishes her sable charms. The arms and legs, when painted, look as if covered with dark blue gloves and boots.

They show some ingenuity in the manufacture of leathern jars, fashioning them upon a clay mould out of the raw hide, previously well soaked in water: these jars serve to contain fat, melted butter, honey, and bees’ wax.

They are also acquainted with the art of tanning; in which they make use of the milky juice of a plant called in Arabic _brumbugh_, and in the Bornouese tongue _kyo_. It is an annual plant, and grows in dry sandy situations to the height of five or six feet, with a stem about an inch in diameter. It has broad thick leaves, and bears a small flower, in colour and shape not unlike a pink. The fruit is green, and larger than our garden turnip. It contains a fine white silky texture, intermixed with seeds like those of the melon, and becomes ripe some time before the rains commence, during which the plant itself withers. The juice is collected in a horn or gourd, from incisions made in the stem. It is poured over the inner surface of the skin to be tanned, which is then put in some vessel or other; when, in the course of a day or two, the smell becomes extremely offensive, and the hair rubs off with great ease. They afterwards take the beans or seeds of a species of mimosa, called in Arabic _gurud_. These, when pounded in a wooden mortar, form a coarse black powder, which is thrown into warm water, wherein the skin is steeped for one day; being frequently well pressed and hard wrung, to make it imbibe the liquor. It is then spread out in the sun, or hung up in the wind, and when half dry, is again well rubbed between the hands, to render it soft and pliant for use. To colour it red, they daub it over with a composition, made of trona and the outer leaves of red Indian corn, first beaten into a powder and mixed up with water.

The negroes here are excessively polite and ceremonious, especially to those advanced in years. They salute one another, by laying the hand on the breast, making a bow, and inquiring, “Kona lafia? Ki ka kykee. Fo fo da rana?” “How do you do? I hope you are well. How have you passed the heat of the day?” The last question corresponds in their climate to the circumstantiality with which our honest countryfolks inquire about a good night’s rest.

The unmarried girls, whether slaves or free, and likewise the young unmarried men, wear a long apron of blue and white check, with a notched edging of red woollen cloth. It is tied with two broad bands, ornamented in the same way, and hanging down behind to the very ancles. This is peculiar to Soudan, and forms the only distinction in dress from the people of Bornou.

Both men and women colour their teeth and lips with the flowers of the goorjee tree, and of the tobacco plant. The former I only saw once or twice; the latter is carried every day to market, beautifully arranged in large baskets. The flowers of both these plants, rubbed on the lips and teeth, give them a blood red appearance, which is here thought a great beauty. This practice is comparatively rare in Bornou.

Chewing the goora nut, already described, or snuff mixed with trona, is a favourite habit. This use of snuff is not confined to men in Haussa, as is the case in Bornou, where the indulgence is not permitted to women. Snuff is very seldom taken up the nostrils, according to our custom. Smoking tobacco is a universal practice, both of negroes and Moors. Women, however, are debarred this fashionable gratification.

The practitioners of the healing art in this country, as formerly in Europe, officiate likewise as barbers, and are very dexterous in the latter capacity, at least.

Blindness is a prevalent disease. Within the walls of the city, there is a separate district or village for people afflicted with this infirmity, who have certain allowances from the governor, but who also beg in the streets and market-place. Their little town is extremely neat, and the coozees well built. With the exception of the slaves, none but the blind are permitted to live here, unless on rare occasions a one-eyed man is received into their community. I was informed the lame had a similar establishment; but I did not see it.

When a bride is first conducted to the house of the bridegroom, she is attended by a great number of friends and slaves, bearing presents of melted fat, honey, wheat, turkadees, and tobes, as her dower. She whines all the way—“Wey kina! wey kina! wey Io.” “Oh! my head! my head! oh! dear me.” Notwithstanding this lamentation, the husband has commonly known his wife some time before marriage. Preparatory to the ceremony of reading the “Fatha,” both bridegroom and bride remain shut up for some days, and have their hands and feet dyed, for three days successively, with henna. The bride herself visits the bridegroom, and applies the henna plasters with her own hand.

Every one is buried under the floor of his own house, without monument or memorial; and among the commonalty the house continues occupied as usual; but among the great there is more refinement, and it is ever after abandoned. The corpse being washed, the first chapter of the Koran is read over it, and the interment takes place the same day. The bodies of slaves are dragged out of town, and left a prey to vultures and wild beasts. In Kano they do not even take the trouble to convey them beyond the walls, but throw the corpse into the morass or nearest pool of water.

Feb. 22.—At seven in the morning I waited on the governor. He informed me that the sultan had sent a messenger express, with orders to have me conducted to his capital, and to supply me with every thing necessary for my journey. He now begged me to state what I stood in need of. I assured him that the King of England, my master, had liberally provided for all my wants; but that I felt profoundly grateful for the kind offers of the sultan, and had only to crave from him the favour of being attended by one of his people as a guide. He instantly called a fair-complexioned Felatah, and asked me if I liked him. I accepted him with thanks, and took leave. I afterwards went by invitation to visit the governor of Hadyja, who was here on his return from Sackatoo, and lived in the house of the wan-bey. I found this governor of Hadyja a black man, about fifty years of age, sitting among his own people at the upper end of the room, which is usually a little raised, and is reserved in this country for the master of the house or visitors of high rank. He was well acquainted with my travelling name; for the moment I entered, he said laughing, “How do you do, Abdullah? Will you come and see me at Hadyja on your return?” I answered, “God willing,” with due Moslem solemnity. “You are a Christian, Abdullah?”—“Yes.” “And what are you come to see?”—“The country.” “What do you think of it?”—“It is a fine country, but very sickly.” At this he smiled, and again asked, “Would you Christians allow us to come and see your country?” I said, “Certainly.”—“Would you force us to become Christians?” “By no means; we never meddle with a man’s religion.”—“What!” says he, “and do you ever pray?”—“Sometimes; our religion commands us to pray always; but we pray in secret, and not in public, except on Sundays.” One of his people abruptly asked what a Christian was? “Why a Kafir,” rejoined the governor. “Where is your Jew servant?” again asked the governor; “you ought to let me see him.” “Excuse me, he is averse to it; and I never allow my servants to be molested for religious opinions.” “Well, Abdullah, thou art a man of understanding, and must come and see me at Hadyja.” I then retired, and the Arabs afterwards told me he was a perfect savage, and sometimes put a merchant to death for the sake of his goods; but this account, if true, is less to be wondered at, from the notorious villany of some of them. In the afternoon I went to Hadje Hat Salah’s, and made an arrangement with him to act as my agent, both in recovering the money due by Hadje Ali Boo Khaloom, and in answering any drafts upon him. In the event of my death, I also agreed with him to have my Jew servant Jacob, who was to remain here with my books and papers, sent with them to the sheikh of Bornou, and so to the English consul at Tripoli. I left Jacob here, partly on account of his irritable temper, which, presuming on my countenance and support, was apt to lead him into altercations and squabbles, as well as to take care of my effects. I made this arrangement at Hat Salah’s particular recommendation, who strongly impressed upon me the dangers of the journey I had undertaken. According to a custom which the late Dr. Oudney had always followed at every principal town where we made a short stay, I had two bullocks slaughtered and given to the poor.