Chapter XIX

Departure for Timbuctoo on the 13th of March — Description of the banks of the river — Slaves released from their chains — Populous villages — Vessels of from sixty to eighty tons burthen — Branch of the river forming a large island — Mode of building canoes — Villages of Banan — Character of the Mandingoes — Description of Lake Debo — Islands called St. Charles, Henry, and Maria-Theresa.

About half past nine o’clock we left the port. We did not waste much time in adieus; my friends saw me on board, wished me a safe voyage, and departed exclaiming: _Salam alécoom, Abdallah_. The sherif, with whom the gift of my umbrella rendered me such a favourite, directed me to his correspondent at Timbuctoo, to whom he particularly recommended me in a letter, which he sent by the superintendent of the cargo. I had reason to be grateful for his kind foresight, to which I was indebted for the friendly reception I experienced on my arrival in the capital of the Western Soudan.

Though the heat was beginning to be exceedingly oppressive, I remained on deck, for the canoe was very full. The river makes several windings; its course is rapid; and as it is extremely shallow, we were obliged several times to unload the vessel in order to pass over the sandbanks. The negroes in the neighbourhood helped to load and unload the canoe, and to push it forward; all this, of course, occasioned considerable delay.

About two o’clock we reached the majestic Dhioliba, which flows slowly from W. N. W. At this part it is very deep, and about three times the width of the Seine at the Pont-Neuf. It takes a turn of about two miles to the south; its banks are low and very barren. The distance from Jenné to this river is, I should imagine, about ten miles. After flowing two miles to the southward, it turns to the N. N. E. About four o’clock we arrived at Cougalia, where I had previously crossed the river. Aided by the current I suppose we made about two miles an hour.

A little before sun-set we passed Kera, a pretty little village on the right bank of the river, containing about three hundred inhabitants. It is nearly seven miles from Cougalia. Here the river turns to the N. E. A little to the left there is a small island submerged during the inundation The river is much wider here than at Cougalia, and it is quite as deep. On the plain I observed some slaves tilling the ground; they had pickaxes like those of the Bambaras. We continued our course till near midnight. As I had no compass I observed the direction of our course during the night by the polar star. In the evening we stood to the N. E., still going at the rate of about two miles an hour.

When we lay to, the negroes who had the management of the canoe sought to pick a quarrel with me: they would not allow me to sleep on board. They told me that I had given them nothing, and that if I did not pay them they would put me on shore. I saw very well that their only object was to intimidate me and thereby to extort something from me. I disregarded their threats, and prepared to sleep on board in spite of them, for the cold night air and the damp were very unpleasant. I arranged my resting place as well as I could on a heap of baggage, where I was almost folded double and unable to move. I had not a wink of sleep during the whole night, and the negroes annoyed me in every possible way to induce me to leave the canoe. They even began to address insulting language to me, and threatened to put me on shore next day if I did not satisfy their demands. I suffered much from this annoyance; but the negroes gained nothing by their insolence. When the common people of these countries meet with a stranger who does not speak their language, they think they may insult him with impunity; but it is sufficient to shew firmness to make them more tractable. They gave me for supper a little rice boiled in water, which was the food of the slaves. I had not eaten any thing all day, for there was no possibility of cooking on account of the crowded state of the canoe.

At four in the morning of the 24th of March we stood to the N. E. The sailors pushed forward the canoe with a long pole: they rowed it in deep water, and sometimes towed it along shore.

At this part, the river is about half a mile broad and very deep. Its banks, though low, are adorned with a species of mimosa, which grows only to the height of a small shrub. About seven in the morning we stopped before the village of Soufara, situated on the right bank, on a height which preserves it from the inundation. Beside this village is little stream, which runs in an eastward direction. We went ashore to purchase some maumies and pistachio-nuts for breakfast. In this place there is no regular market; but people go through the streets selling pistachios, and other little productions of the country. The village probably contains about two hundred and fifty inhabitants. They live in wretched huts, built of earth like those of the Bambaras, which do not approach the perfection of the habitations of Jenné. The people catch a great quantity of fish. They generally use nets made of cotton, but sometimes fish with the line. When I returned on board the canoe, the negro who was the master of the slaves and superintendent of the cargo gave me a piece of cake for my breakfast. Fortunately I had provided myself with some on shore, otherwise I should have made a sorry repast. The negroes again importuned me for cowries; but I persisted in my resolution to give them nothing. At half past seven we continued our course. The river now took a northerly direction. It continued wide, and its depth was about ten or twelve feet. This I ascertained by observing the long pole with which the sailors pushed the canoe. It was nearly eleven o’clock when we passed Cabia. In front of this village there are three little islands; here the river takes a turn to the N. E. and becomes narrower. About two o’clock I observed its direction was north, and at half past three, north-east. Its width and depth continued much the same; its banks were barren and low. On both sides I observed immense plains, the uniformity of which was broken only by some ronniers which rise majestically to the height of about eighty feet from the ground and bound the horizon. About five in the afternoon we perceived the village of Taco, which is situated on the left bank.

At sun-set I discerned, in the direction of the east, two little hills about six miles from the bank of the river, which in this part runs to the north. About seven in the evening we stopped before the village of Coona, which is inhabited by Foulahs, who live in straw huts. In the port there were some canoes, all going to Timbuctoo. Here we could plainly perceive the two hills I have just mentioned, and a little to the north-east were three others of similar height. We passed the night in this village, which, like Taco, is situated on the left bank.

On the 25th of March I was informed that the great canoe which was to convey us to Timbuctoo was in the port and ready for our reception. It was covered with mats, and laden with rice, millet, cotton, honey, vegetable butter, and other productions of the country. The canoe appeared to me very fragile; like the smaller ones its planks were joined with cords; its burthen was about sixty tons.

We were occupied all day in getting the merchandise from the small canoe, and putting it on board the large one. There was on the shore a great concourse of people, all engaged in some kind of labour; they had pitched tents to shelter themselves from the heat, which was excessive. The negroes offered us their merchandise for sale. On seeing them I almost imagined myself in a market on the banks of the Senegal. The village is situated on a little eminence, and is scantily shaded by ronniers and mimosas. The heat was suffocating. I went to visit the market, which was very badly provided; for it was then the time of the Ramadan: there was a little milk, some pistachios, dry and fresh fish, maumies, and other light articles of food. The people looked at me with indifference. The young girls, who offered their merchandise for sale, had a very pleasing mode of address; but I bought nothing, on account of the presence of the Foulahs, who are even more fanatical than the Moors, and who, if they had seen me eat, would have set me down for an infidel. My hosts at Jenné had however made me promise that I would not fast on my passage, observing that I could make up by fasting at Timbuctoo for the number of days during which I might neglect the practice of that religious duty. I sat down beneath a tree on the bank of the river, and amused myself for a short time by observing a group of young negroes of both sexes, who were bathing, dancing and gamboling about in the water.

A little to the north of the village the river is intersected by a sand-bank. This bank was covered by a multitude of water-fowl of various kinds, whose white plumage looked like a sheet of snow in the midst of the river. The channel for the passage of canoes is near the right bank. The surrounding country is very barren: not a single shrub is to be seen. The soil consists of immense marshes, which are inundated at the swell of the waters. The shore on either side is so extremely low that the river seems on the point of overflowing its banks. In the village I met with a Moorish trader, who was returning from Timbuctoo in a common canoe, laden with salt. He told me that he had been a month on his way from Cabra to Coona. I invited him to come on board our vessel and take a little refreshment of dokhnou and water. Dokhnou, as I have before observed, consists of a mixture of the flour of millet and honey, which is afterwards mixed with water for drink. He requested me to wait until sun-set on account of the Foulahs, who, if they saw us drink, would have a bad opinion of us. He left me to take a turn in the village, but I did not see him again.

In the port, there were many fishermen’s canoes. When the fishermen catch their fish, either with the net or the line, they dry it in the sun and sell it to the vessels which are continually stopping in their port: they also carry it to Jenné for sale. At two o’clock in the afternoon, I was informed that dinner was ready, and was asked whether I would partake of it; for the slaves were not required to fast, and I was ranked among them. That I might not be observed by any one, I went on board the canoe to take my dinner at my ease. It consisted of a little boiled millet-flour, without any seasoning. After this frugal repast, the slaves were freed from their chains, and I was gratified in witnessing the pleasure which these poor creatures experienced during their temporary release from bondage. They appeared perfectly happy. They tried to walk, but it was with difficulty that they could move a few steps, for the chains which they had worn since they left Jenné had wounded their feet.

Having nothing more to detain us in the village, we left it in the afternoon during a calm, taking a northern direction. The large canoe did not get on so well as the small one which we had left behind us, consequently we scarcely made two miles an hour.

About five o’clock we passed Taguetia, situated on the left bank. In front of this village a marigot, or branch, about twenty-five or thirty fathoms wide, runs off to the east. The village of Sangouno is on one of the banks of this branch. At its mouth are two little islands, about a quarter of a mile in circumference, on which are some fishermen’s huts. The river still continues of the same width, running to the north. It is very deep, and its banks are low and barren.

At ten at night we stopped at Sankhaguibila. At this place the river takes a turn to the east, and then to the north. The inhabitants hold a little market, to which they bring milk and dried fish, which the negroes of the canoes purchase, and pay for in cowries, the only money current on the banks of the river as far as Timbuctoo. People came from all sides with earthen pots, calabashes, mats, and various other kinds of merchandise. This village probably contains about four hundred inhabitants, consisting of Foulahs, Mandingoes, and Bambaras from Jenné.

At three o’clock on the morning of the 26th, we quitted the village of Sankhaguibila, the huts of which are all of straw, and badly constructed. We advanced slowly to the west. At sun-rise we found the river take a turn to the north. Its banks are adorned with a few dwarf shrubs.

At four in the afternoon we passed Diébé, situated on the right and before which there is a sand-bank. In general, all these villages resemble each other. The population varies but little. We stopped here nearly two hours to escape the north wind, which was blowing furiously, and which, in all probability, would have destroyed our frail bark. When it ceased we continued our course, and at nine o’clock we lay to at Isaca, where we passed that night and the following day. During the night the wind changed to the north-east, and there was a good breeze stirring. The banks of the river are so low that the least wind prevents the canoes making way; for when the water is ever so little agitated the waves dash over their sides and sink them; an accident of frequent occurrence. The population of Isaca may amount to seven or eight hundred, all Foulahs. Their houses, which are built of bricks baked in the sun, resemble those of the Bambaras.

The inhabitants brought us fresh fish, sour milk, and butter, which we purchased. The butter was rolled up into little balls of the size of crab-apples, for which we paid six cowries each. In this village I saw a great quantity of dried fish, an article in which the inhabitants traffic very considerably. They carry it to Jenné and other neighbouring markets. The great arm of the river which, as the negroes informed me, branches off from Sego, and forms an immense island, rejoins the river a quarter of a mile from Isaca. This arm, which comes from the west, is very broad, and seems to be navigable for large boats. It has not a rapid current; indeed, the water appears to be almost stagnant. The village is situated on the right bank of the river, and is inhabited by Foulahs, similar to those of Fouta-Dhialon. They are the subjects of Sego-Ahmadou, the capital of which al-Lamdou Lillahi, is a day’s journey eastward from Isaca. They rear flocks, which are their principal wealth, and cultivate rice in the plains, inundated by the overflow of the waters. They fish with nets made of cotton cord.

The women manufacture a beautiful kind of pottery, which they sell at Jenné, and to the canoes going to Timbuctoo. The village is situated on a little eminence; it is a great market for provisions.

Before I proceed further I will give a description of the canoes which are employed in the passage from Jenné to Timbuctoo, and which keep up a continually active trade along the whole extent of the river. Little flotillas of sixty or eighty boats are frequently seen all richly laden with various kinds of produce.

A vessel of sixty, or eighty tons burthen, is about ninety or one hundred feet long, twelve or fourteen broad at midships, and draws six or seven feet depth of water. These canoes, whether large or small, are generally fragile, and it is astonishing how they bear the heavy cargoes with which they are laden, and which consist of rice, millet, butter, honey, onions, pistachios, colat-nuts, stuffs, and various kinds of preserved articles. In addition to their cargo they frequently have on board forty or fifty slaves, half of whom remain on deck.

The crew consists of sixteen or eighteen sailors, two steersmen, and a superior, who acts as captain. The manner in which these vessels are built shews their want of solidity. Large planks, five feet long by eight inches broad, and about one inch thick,[1] are adjusted and fixed together by ropes made from the hemp of the country and the leaves of the ronnier. These ropes possess the property of lasting a long time in water, an advantage of great importance in this country, where the inhabitants do not avail themselves of the use of iron.

The workmen first of all join the planks together; but they do not unite closely, and large interstices are left in this first joining. The seams are then caulked over with bruised straw, reduced to a sort of oakum, and mixed with a soft kind of clay, found in the morasses and on the banks of the river. The interstices thus filled up, the seams are closely covered with fresh straw, and the whole is strongly fastened by a second joining; this renders the canoe sufficiently solid for the purpose of navigating the river At the bottom, wooden bars are laid at certain distances to consolidate the whole mass; and similar bars are placed higher up, for supporting the deck. The hull being finished, it is covered over with small pieces of flexible wood, bent in a convex form, across which, other pieces of smaller size are fixed. This forms the deck, which is raised three feet and a half above the sides, and covered over with mats, made in the country from the leaves of the ronnier. The lightest merchandise is placed on the deck, or orlop, and is firmly lashed to the gunwales of the vessel, forming a sort of barrier, not very high, but sufficiently so to prevent the slaves, who sleep on deck, from rolling into the water. The vessel is loaded to the height of two feet and a half or three feet above the deck, even on the prow.

As they are unacquainted with the use of pumps, they leave in the middle of the canoe an open space, where two men are constantly stationed, and whose business it is to bale out the water which makes its way through the seams of the vessel. In spite of the quickness with which they work, the water on board is never less than half a foot deep. These men keep watch as in our European ships, and they are relieved every six hours. They use large calabashes to bale the vessel. I observed that this part of the canoe is always covered with moss of a fine green colour. This is also the place where the women kindle fires to cook the victuals of the crew; for which purpose they provide themselves with portable earthenware stoves. These stoves are in the form of chaffing-dishes, round and open, and are composed of glazed earthenware. They are manufactured at Jenné, or in its environs, and are nearly four feet in circumference. They are furnished with three little supports, forming a tripod, on which the pot, used for boiling the rice, rests. These portable stoves obviate all danger that might be apprehended from the use of fire on board the vessels. Before the cargo is put on board, the hold is lined with thick pieces of wood, to prevent the goods being damaged by damp.

These vessels being unprovided with sails, cannot make way except in very calm weather; they are besides so frail, that the slightest wind agitating the river (the banks of which are very low) produces waves, which, by dashing against the sides of the canoes, would either damage or swamp them. This danger often causes delay, and renders the navigation tedious and perilous. When the banks are entirely free from bushes, the sailors row or tow the vessel along, and when they can reach the bottom of the river with poles, they push it. In this manner the greater part of the passage is effected, and it was by means of these poles, which are about twelve or fifteen feet long, that I was enabled to judge of the depth of the river. It is very difficult to find wood of such a length in this country, and it is necessary to fix two pieces together lengthwise to form the poles. It sometimes happens that the banks are covered with bushes, and that the river is so deep that these poles cannot reach the bottom; in such cases the sailors move the vessel forward by paddles three feet long; and a place for the rowers is left open, quite at the fore part of the vessel, occupying only twelve or fourteen feet. They sometimes stand up close against the side of the vessel, and at other times sit upon the merchandise, having scarcely room to turn themselves round in consequence of the crowded state of the canoe. These men are naked; they row very fast, and keep time.

The master stands at the stern and steers the vessel, not without difficulty, by a long pole instead of a rudder. He experiences a good deal of trouble in managing the unwieldy machine, so that it is often found necessary for two others to assist him. A rudder like that attached to the boats which descend the Seine, would be extremely serviceable, but at present the people are ignorant of the use of such a thing. Each of these vessels has a captain, who maintains great authority over his crew, and I never witnessed any abuse of this authority, as is sometimes the case with us, especially in the merchant service. All the negro sailors who navigate the river are slaves; there are also some captains of this class, whose employers give them half of what they earn. Free men think themselves degraded by accepting such employment.

On the 28th, at four o’clock in the morning, the wind fell and we continued our course towards the north. The breadth of the river did not vary, and its banks continued low and naked. About seven o’clock in the morning the N. E. wind blew stronger than on the preceding day, and we were obliged to anchor before a large plain of white quicksand, which, when inundated by the rising of the waters, forms a great bank; the channel is on the left side of the river. The wind, blowing up the sand in great quantities, added to the inconvenience we were suffering from the heat.

To lighten the canoe all the slaves were set on shore, and the rice-grinders were sent to continue their work on the plain. At sunset the wind fell a little, and the oars might have been used during the whole of the night, but the negroes, to whom time is of no value, and who are never in a hurry to reach their destination, thought proper to wait till morning.

The slaves, male and female, all Bambaras, began to leap, dance, and amuse themselves in various ways. Their gaiety, however, proved the cause of some trouble to us, for the Foulahs, observing them, came on board at night-fall in a party of about thirty, armed with bows and pikes. They severely censured the impropriety of allowing the slaves to dance during the Ramadan, observing that it was like making a scoff of religion, and that, as a punishment for such misconduct, a fine of five thousand cowries (a sum equal to twenty-five francs) must be paid. The master, to whose charge the slaves had been committed, earnestly defended the cause of his employer. A spirited altercation arose between the parties, who were seated in a circle upon the sand. The Foulahs for some time shewed no disposition to forego their demands, but at length they were taught reason, and the dispute ended at the expense of the poor slaves, who, as a punishment for dancing during this sacred season, were each condemned to receive five lashes on the back. The sentence, however, was not executed with much severity, and it did not restrain the slaves from resuming their dance as soon as the fanatical Foulahs departed.

From motives of prudence, I had for some time kept myself apart from this scene, but I felt curious to know, before the departure of these rigid defenders of Islamism, what was the subject of dispute. I therefore approached the spot where they were and sat down on the sand beside them. They were astonished at seeing me, for I had hitherto escaped their observation, owing to the interest they took in discussing the subject of the five thousand cowries, which they conceived they had a right to exact. They told the master that I must certainly be the chief of the canoe and the proprietor of the cargo; that I must doubtless have money; and that I must make them a handsome present.

The master answered them that I was a poor Arab, whom the christians had carried off from his country when a boy, and that I was proceeding to Mecca, to seek my relatives. This explanation seemed to satisfy them, for they asked no more questions about me.

The proprietor of the canoe had put a Mandingo negro on board, to take care of the cargo. This person was also directed to attend to me; a duty which he performed very negligently, for, after leaving Jenné, he gave me nothing but rice boiled in water, the food of the slaves. He was more strict than the Moors, and fasted on the voyage, not partaking of any thing until a repast was served to us at half past six in the evening. This was the best meal I had throughout the day, for he added a little dry fish and vegetable butter to the dish. However, he made me eat at other times with the slaves. I complained of this treatment, but the only reply given to my repeated remonstrances was, that he did not choose to have the trouble of lighting a fire for only one person, and that I must be content with what he gave me. Not being able to do better, I patiently bore my misfortune, and considered myself lucky when I procured a little sour milk to relish my dinner.

On the 29th of March, about three o’clock in the morning, we again put off. During the night time, the polar star served me for a compass, and the position of the stars enabled me to guess the hour. About nine o’clock a fresh breeze having sprung up, we were obliged to wait till midday, when we began to move on. At two o’clock we again stopped. The excessive heat brought upon me an attack of fever, which, fortunately, was not followed by any bad consequences. At five o’clock in the evening, the wind dropped, and we were enabled to continue our voyage. At sun-set, we passed a village on the left bank, close to which an arm of the river branches off to the west. At eight in the evening, we found ourselves before Wanza, having constantly advanced in a northern direction. We lay to about one o’clock in the morning, at a point where there was no village. Here the river might be three quarters of a mile broad, and from eight to nine feet deep; the banks were uniformly low and bare.

On the 30th of March, at six in the morning, we put off, still in the same direction. About nine o’clock, a violent north-east wind arose, and obliged us to halt before the village of Sansan. Here the river is of considerable breadth, but the banks being ornamented with mimosas, presented a pleasing prospect after the long absence of all vegetation. About five in the evening, the wind falling a little, we advanced to the north-east. The country on either side of the river was covered with numerous herds of oxen, whose lowing was heard at a great distance; they belonged to the Foulahs, residing in a village at some distance from the shore, and whose only property is their cattle. At six in the evening, we passed over a sand-bank, extending across the river, which is here a full mile in breadth. The canoe ran aground several times, and the men were obliged to jump into the water in order to get it afloat, for which about four feet and a half water was requisite. By great efforts we gained the channel, which runs near the right bank. Here I saw thousands of trumpet-birds, which came down in flocks upon the sand banks, and by their shrill cries seemed to sound a charge upon the fish, destined by nature for their prey. There were also great numbers of ducks, water-fowl, puffets, pelicans, and egrets, and multitudes of the other varieties of water birds, which inhabit these marshes, and brood undisturbed by the people of the surrounding countries. Powder is a very scarce article here, and lead is unknown; pikes, therefore, form the only arms of the inhabitants.

We continued our course till midnight; when, our wearied rowers requiring rest, we moored the vessel to two stakes fixed in the shore, and went to sleep.

On the thirty-first of March, at six in the morning, we started in a northern direction. At seven we passed the village of Corocoïla, situated on the right bank. This place contained from five to six hundred inhabitants, chiefly Foulahs, and also some who came originally from Jenné. In all the villages on the banks of the river the same language is spoken as at Timbuctoo and Jenné; it is called the _Kissour_. The Foulah language also is spoken in those places. The banks of the river were still covered with numerous herds of oxen.

At ten o’clock, we lay to about two miles to the north of Cobi. Between this small village and Corocoïla is a pretty little island, about two miles in circumference, covered with the finest vegetation; I was astonished to find it uninhabited. In the evening we made three miles towards the north, for the purpose of reaching Cona, the first village in the country of Banan, which the negroes call _Banan-dougou (land of Banan)_. Cona contains about eight hundred inhabitants, all negroes. There are in the country some Mandingoes and Foulahs, who are engaged in trade. It is situated on the right bank of the river, and its environs are marshy.

The people on board our vessel purchased tamarinds, earthen pots, and untanned ox-hides used for packing. The inhabitants brought us milk, giraumons, and other articles.

In this place I met two Moors from Adrar, owners of a very large canoe of eighty tons burden at least. They were going to Timbuctoo to dispose of the merchandise they had bought at Jenné. A small vessel of seven or eight tons, was employed to carry themselves and provisions for their use and it followed the large canoe at various distances; for the latter, encumbered with merchandise, advanced but slowly.

After introducing themselves, they invited me to partake of their boiled rice and some milk, while supper was preparing. About seven in the evening they proceeded on their passage, but we stayed until the next day. Several of our men went to the village to make small purchases for a venture. Banan is independent of Ségo-Ahmadou: it is situated upon the right bank of the river, and extends very far to the east. The inhabitants are all Mahometans, and the slaves, who are very numerous, are employed in tilling the ground. The people build canoes, and make voyages to Jenné and Timbuctoo. They are very rich in herds of oxen, sheep and goats, and rear great quantities of poultry. They are very industrious, and manufacture cotton stuffs, which they sell to the people of the neighbouring towns and villages. The cotton tree, which they cultivate, flourishes exceedingly in this place. They also make cloth from the wool of sheep, for the purpose of traffic.

I saw the inhabitants, who never go out unless armed with pikes, and bows and arrows. They have woolly hair and a very black complexion, and are in other respects like the Mandingoes, to which race indeed they belong, though they speak another language.

About ten at night, we left the village of Cona, with a fine moon-light that would have favoured our progress, but the negroes thought proper to lie to at eleven o’clock. As soon as the vessels are anchored they betake themselves to sleep, without leaving any one to keep watch, for they are not accustomed to such duty when at anchor.

On the 1st of April, at six in the morning, we made ready to start: a breeze was blowing, which however, about midnight so encreased in violence, that we were compelled to stop. Had we attempted to proceed, the canoe would infallibly have been destroyed; for during this gale it made more water than usual.

The frequent halts which we were obliged to make were very annoying to me; for I was obliged to remain on board exposed to the heat of the sun. How pleased should I have been had the adjacent country been like the smiling shores of the Senegal! But here the immense monotonous plains on all sides fatigue the eye of the traveller.

The course of the river, though winding in some parts, is still northward. On the morning of the 1st of April, I observed a large hill, about two hundred and fifty feet high, distant three or four miles from the left bank of the river. It was without vegetation, and appeared to be composed of red sand.

We daily expected the owner of the canoe, who, on departing from Jenné, promised to join us in two days. He had assured me, that even in his absence I should be well treated on board. The case, however, was quite the reverse, so I looked for him with the utmost impatience, trusting that his presence would better my condition.

After my departure from Jenné, I had the misery of being the only white man among the negroes, and with their language I was unacquainted. This circumstance, joined to my being a stranger, and almost destitute, emboldened them to insult me in the grossest manner. I was absolutely ranked and treated as a slave.

During the day the heat was excessive, and I had great trouble to find a place where I could be shaded from the burning sun, which was almost insupportable, even in a state of inaction. In the night I slept on deck, for there was no room for me below. I was exposed to the dew and all the inclemency of the night; but I took the precaution of wrapping myself in a sheep-skin. However, this did not prevent me from being seized, on the 31st March, with a violent fit of illness. I experienced severe numbness, followed by great weakness, and my stomach rejected food.

During my illness I was permitted to go into the cabin; but the place assigned me there was very inconvenient. I was with a Mandingo and his female slave; and they allowed me so little room that I could not lie straight; my head touched my knees. I had been particularly recommended to the care of this negro by the sherif Oulad-Marmou; but he paid no regard to the directions he had received, and showed as little pity for me as the rest of the crew. I ought, however, to exempt from this censure a young Foulah from Massina, to whom the sherif had also recommended me. He was the only one who had behaved to me with any kindness. He went on shore whenever I asked him, bought me milk, and rendered me all the service he could. He even endeavoured to console me when I expressed dissatisfaction at the inattention with which I was treated by the rest. He often reprimanded the slaves, who, following the example of their superiors, behaved with the grossest insolence towards me. In short, I should have been much worse off had it not been for the attention of this kind-hearted young man.

In the course of my travels I have often had intercourse with the Mandingoes, and, with the single exception of those of Cambaya, in the Fouta, I have always found them arrogant when possessed of any little authority, while they are fawning, mean, and servile, to their superiors. I have seen them, in the passage from Tinné to Jenné, insult the poor Bambaras while selling their merchandise, speaking harshly to them, and even abusing them in their own language; but whenever the Bambaras showed a disposition to resent this treatment, the Mandingoes became all at once silent and humble. The women have the same faults, in addition to which they have insufferably harsh voices.

On the 1st of April, the wind continued blowing till four in the evening, when it fell a little. We rowed in a northern direction. Near half past six in the evening we halted at Toï. The river still continued the same; the banks being low and bare, and in many places not a single shrub can be seen. At nine o’clock, we started, and all night advanced towards the north. The river makes a few small windings to the east.

On the 2nd of April the weather continued calm. Towards eight o’clock in the morning we passed some large islands, situated not far from the mouth of the lake Débo. The river is here divided by several islands, which separate it into different narrow branches of great depth. Two of these islands are larger than the rest, and might be habitable, for, when the river overflows, they are only partially inundated. On one of these islands, there are the huts of fishermen, and of shepherds, whose numerous flocks find rich pasture on the marshes. These marshes are covered by aquatic birds of every kind. There is an infinite number of other small islands covered with rank grass, and inundated at all seasons. When this immense river overflows all the herbage is under water, and then the lake appears much more extensive; its banks are no longer perceptible, and it might be mistaken for an inland Sea.

After a slow navigation, during which we made repeated halts, we reached the mouth of the great lake about three in the afternoon. About six miles S. W. of this entrance, there is a rock in the form of a truncated sugarloaf; it is situated in an inundated marsh which is covered with green herbage. This enormous rock, which is quite bare, forms a singular contrast with the freshness of the surrounding vegetation. As it has, though a very striking land-mark, received no name from the natives, I thought proper to give it one, and have named the whole spot St. Charles’s Island. In the lake, and about nine or ten miles to the N. E. is a small island on which I observed some trees almost destitute of leaves. It is capable of being inhabited, and affords facilities for the formation of a good port. I have named it Henry Island, in honour of his Royal Highness the Duke of Bourdeaux. A third island, also formed of rock, is situated between these two, a little to the eastward of the line which would intersect them, and to it I have given the name of Maria-Theresa, in honour of her Royal Highness the Dauphiness. Two of these islands appear to command the mouth of the lake. Were a fort built on one of the three it would command the environs, and the navigation would be under the control of the possessor.

To the N. N. E. of the island of Maria-Theresa we observed a hill about fifty or sixty fathoms high. It is composed of red earth, and of large porous rocks of the same colour. Some fishermen have established themselves on the declivity of this hill, which is extremely arid.

Land is seen on every side of the lake except on the west, where it spreads out like an inland sea. On coasting along its northern side, and steering nearly W. N. W. to the distance of fifteen miles, we leave on the left a tongue of very flat land, which extends several miles southward. It seems to close the passage of the lake, and to form a kind of strait. Beyond this barrier the lake is prolonged, as I have said, towards the west, until it is lost in the horizon.

The barrier I have just mentioned divides lake Debo into two lakes, the upper and the lower. That through which the boats passed, and in which the three islands I have mentioned are situated, is very large. It extends in an easterly direction, and is surrounded by extensive marshes. Land is visible on every side.

When we had advanced as far as the middle of the first division, three of the large boats fired some muskets, to salute this majestic lake, and the crew of each boat shouted with all their might _Salam! Salam!_ repeating the cry several times. We stood off from the eastern bank and navigated with great caution: the lake was calm and the water clear. The current was not perceptible on its surface, the depth of the part which we navigated was twelve or thirteen feet. The canoes were merely rowed, and advanced very slowly. I could not recover from my surprise at seeing so great a mass of water in the heart of the country. There was something very majestic in the sight.

About five in the evening we arrived off Gabibi, a small fishing village on the right bank of the lake. The huts of this village are made of straw and of a round form. Since we entered the lake we had stood to the N. E. We passed close to the island of Maria-Theresa, on which I observed some fine granite of a bright chesnut colour. We took our departure from Gabibi, and at sun-set I saw, for the first time, since I left the coast, that luminary sink into a sort of ocean.

We proceeded along the shore, at some distance from it, in the direction of W. N. W. The boatmen sang while they pushed along the canoe with their poles. We observed large blocks of granite on the shore. We brought to about eleven at night off Didhiover, a large village inhabited by Foulahs, who have only straw huts like those of the pastoral Foulahs. Some negroes went to the village to buy giraumons. We could not procure a single drop of milk.