Chapter I: From Tunis to Tripoli (14)

With regard to the names of the quarters of the town, which are interesting in an historical point of view, I was not able to learn exactly the application of each of the names; and I am sure very few even of the inhabitants themselves can now tell the limits of the quarters, on account of the desolate state of many of them. The principal names which can be laid down with certainty in the plan, are Masráta, Gobetáren, Gáwa-Ngírsu, Dígi or Dégi, Katánga, Terjemán, and Arrafía, which comprise the south-western quarter of the town. The names of the other quarters, which I attempted to lay down on the plan sent to Government together with my report, I now deem it prudent to withdraw, as I afterwards found that there was some uncertainty about them. I therefore collect here, for the information of future travellers, the names of the other quarters of the place besides those mentioned above and marked in the plan—Lárelóg, Churúd, Hásena, Amaréwuël, Imurdán (which name, I was assured afterwards, has nothing in common with the name of the tribe of the Imghád), Tafimáta (the quarter where the tribe of the same name lived), Yobímme (“yobu-mé” meaning the mouth of the market), Dégi-n-béne, or the Upper Dégi, and Bosenrára. Kachíy_u_ (not Kachí_n_) seems to have been originally the name of a pool; as I was assured that, besides the three ponds still visible, there were formerly seven others, namely Kudúru, Kachíyu, Chikinéwan, Lángusú-gázará, Kurungúsu, and Rabafáda,—this latter in the square of the palace.

The whole ground upon which the town is built (being the edge of a table-land, which coincides with the transition from granite to sandstone[193]), seems to be greatly impregnated with salt at a certain depth, of which not only the ponds, but even the wells bear evidence,—two of the three wells still in use having saltish water, and only that of Shedwánka being, as to taste, free from salt, though it is still regarded as unwholesome, and all the water used for drinking is brought from the wells outside the walls. Formerly, it is said, there were nine wells inside the town.

From what I have said above, it may be concluded that the commerce of Ágades is now inconsiderable. Its characteristic feature is, that no kind of money whatever is current in the market, neither gold, nor silver, nor kurdí nor shells; while strips of cotton or gábagá (the Kanúri, and not the Háusa term being employed in this case, because the small quantity of this stuff which is current is imported from the north-western province of Bórnu) are very rare, and indeed form almost as merely nominal a standard as the mithkál. Nevertheless the value of the mithkál is divided into ten rijáls or érjel, which measure means eight drʿa or cubits of gábagá. The real standard of the market, I must repeat, is millet or dukhn (“géro” in Háusa, “éneli” in Temáshight, _Pennisetum typhoïdeum_), durra or _Holcus sorghum_ being scarcely ever brought to market. And it is very remarkable, that with this article a man may buy everything at a much cheaper rate than with merchandise, which in general fetches a low price in the place; at least it did so during my stay, when the market had been well-stocked with everything in demand, by the people who had come along with us. English calico of very good quality was sold by me at twenty per cent. less than it had been bought for at Múrzuk. Senna in former times formed an article of export of some importance; but the price which it fetches on the coast has so decreased that it scarcely pays the carriage, the distance from the coast being so very great; and it scarcely formed at all an article in request here, nor did we meet on our whole journey a single camel laden with it, though it grows in considerable quantities in the valleys hereabouts.

Ágades is in no respect a place of resort for wealthy merchants, not even Arabs, while with regard to Europe its importance at present consists in its lying on the most direct road to Sókoto and that part of Sudán. In my opinion it would form for a European agent a very good and comparatively healthy place from which to open relations with Central Africa. The native merchants seem only to visit the markets of Kátsena, Tasáwa, Marádi, Kanó and Sókoto, and, as far as I was able to learn, never go to the northern markets of Ghát or Múrzuk, unless on a journey to Mekka, which several of them have made. Neither does there seem to exist any intercourse at present with Gágho or Gógo, or with Timbúktu; but the Arabs of Azawád and those parts, when undertaking a pilgrimage, generally go by way of Ágades.

I here add the prices of different articles, as they were sold in the market during my residence in the place:—

Mithkál.[194] Réjel.

Dukhn “géro” (_Pennisetum_), or durra “dáwa” 1 0
(_sorghum_), twenty zekka, being equal to
forty of the measure used in Tin-téllust

Rice, ten zekka 1 0

Camel, a young one, two years old, not yet 18 0
fit for carrying loads

Ditto, full grown 25 0

Horse, a good strong one 100 0

Ditto, a fine one, of Tawát breed 1000 0

Ass 6 to 8 0

Ox 8 0

Calf 4 0

Ram 1 5

Sandals, a pair of common ones 0 1

Ditto, a pair of fine ones 0 5

Camel-saddle (or “rákhla” in Arabic, “kígi” 10 0
in Temáshight)

Ditto, a common one 5 0

Leather bag, of coloured leather, for 1 0
containing clothes

Mat, a fine coloured one 0 6

English calico, ten drʿa or cubits 1 0

Subéta, or white Egyptian shawl with red 1 0
border

Kórnu, or the fine Egyptian coloured 1 0
sheep-leather, a piece

Túrkedi, or the dark-coloured cotton cloth 2 0
for female dress of Kanó manufacture, common

Ditto, of finer texture 3 to 5 3

I must here add, that I did not observe that the people of Ágades use manna in their food, nor that it is collected in the neighbourhood of the town; but I did not inquire about it on the spot, not having taken notice of the passage of Leo relating to it.

My stay in Ágades was too short to justify my entering into detail about the private life of the people, but all that I saw convinced me that, although open to most serious censure on the part of the moralist, it presented many striking features of cheerfulness and happiness, and nothing like the misery which is often met with in towns which have declined from their former glory. It still contains many active germs of national life, which are most gratifying to the philosophic traveller. The situation, on an elevated plateau, cannot but be healthy, as the few waterpools, of small dimensions, are incapable of infecting the air. The disease which I have mentioned in my diary as prevalent at the time of my sojourn was epidemic. Besides, it must be borne in mind that the end of the rainy season everywhere in the tropical regions is the most unhealthy period of the year.[195]

[Footnote 166: Sultan Bello’s “Enfák el Misúri fi taríkh belád el Tekrúri,” in Denham and Clapperton’s Travels, Appendix, vol. ii. p. 162. I myself have a copy of the same extracts from this work of Bello.]

[Footnote 167: Marmol, Descripcion dell’ Africa, vol. iii. fl. xxiv. b.: “Agadez es una provincia . . . ay en ella una ciudad del proprio nombre, que a sido edificada de ciento y sesenta años a este parte.”]

[Footnote 168: Leo Africanus, l. vii. c. 9.: “Edificata dai moderni re (?) ne’ confini di Libia.” The word “re” is very suspicious.]

[Footnote 169: See the extracts of Bábá Ahmed’s “Taríkh e’ Sudan,” sent by me to Europe, and published in the Journal of the German Oriental Society, 1855. This statement agrees exactly with an interesting passage in Sultan Bello’s “Enfák el Misúri,” which has been unaccountably omitted by Saláme in the translation appended to Denham and Clapperton’s Travels.]

[Footnote 170: Bello took an erroneous view of the subject in supposing all the five tribes to have come from Aújila. Only one of them was originally from that place; and the names of the five tribes as mentioned by him are evidently erroneous. (See the following note.) The error in deriving all these five tribes from Aújila originated, probably, in the general tradition that the whole nation of the Berbers had spread over North Africa from Syria by way of the oasis of Aújila.]

[Footnote 171: Bello, in Appendix to Denham and Clapperton’s Travels, vol. ii. p. 160. Indeed in this passage he does not mention distinctly Ágades, but speaks in general of the province of Ahír (Aïr); it is clear, however, that the five tribes mentioned here as having wrested the whole country from the hands of the Goberáwa are identical with those settled in Ágades. Bello, in this case, was evidently ill- informed, for Amákitan seems not to be the name of a tribe, but of a man; Ajdaranin is the name of a section of the Kél-gerés; the Agdálar seem to be identical with the Íghdalén. Certainly the Aújila were a most celebrated tribe; and it appears from Edrísi’s report (Jaubert, vol. i. p. 238.), that even at so early an age as the middle of the 12th century of our era they carried on intercourse with Kawár and Gógo by way of Ghadámes.]

[Footnote 172: Áhmed Bábá, in relating this most interesting expedition of the greatest hero of his historical work, is most provokingly brief; but the reason is, that he was well acquainted only with the countries near Timbúktu.]

[Footnote 173: In the Report which I sent to Government from my journey, and which has been printed in the Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, I stated, that according to Leo’s account the Háusa language was spoken at that time in Ágades; but it was a mere lapse of memory. From no passage of his can any conclusion be drawn with regard to this subject.]

[Footnote 174: “E questa città è quasi vicina alla città dei Bianchi piú che alcun’ altra _de’ Negri_.”]

[Footnote 175: Leo, l. vii. c. 9., et l. i. c. 10. near the end.]

[Footnote 176: What Leo says, l. vii. c. 1., of Abubakr Ischia (that is to say, Mohammed ben Abú Bakr el Háj Áskiá)—“Acquistando in anni quindici appresso molti regni, e poichè ebbe reso pacifico e quieto il suo, gli venne disio di andar come pellegrino a Mecca”—is very confused; for Mohammed Áskiá, having ascended the throne on the 14th of Jumád II. 898, began the pilgrimage in Safer, 902, consequently in the fifth year of his reign; yet Leo received information of his expedition against Kátsena and the adjoining provinces, which was made in 919.]

[Footnote 177: See itinerary in the Appendix.]

[Footnote 178: See Appendix.]

[Footnote 179: Ebn Khaldún, ed. Slane, Alger. 1847, tom. i. p. 267. Ebn Khaldún evidently says that the chief of Tegídda had friendly intercourse with Wárgela and Mzáb, although Mr. Cooley (Negroland, p. 65.) has referred these expressions to Músa, the king of Sónghay.]

[Footnote 180: Ebn Batúta in the passage referred to above. It is curious that both these writers give the exact distance of Tegídda from Búda, in Tawát, and from Wárgela, both distances as of seventy marches, while they omit to mention its distance from Gógo.]

[Footnote 181: El Bekri, “Notices et Extraits,” tom. xii. p. 649.]

[Footnote 182: Ebn Batúta repeatedly calls it the largest, handsomest, and strongest of all the cities in Negroland.]

[Footnote 183: Leo, l. vii. c. 7.]

[Footnote 184: Navigazioni di Aloise Ca da Mosto, c. 13.: “La prima parte di loro va con la carovana che tiene il cammino di Melli ad un luogo che si chiama Cochia.”]

[Footnote 185: We shall see, in the further course of our proceedings, that there is another direct road from Gógo to Tawát; but this, in ancient times, seems not to have been frequented, on account either of the difficulties of the road itself, or the dangerous character of the tribes in its vicinity.]

[Footnote 186: Leo, l. vii. c. 1.: “E rimase debitore di centocinquanta mila ducati.”]

[Footnote 187: Whether the story which circulates among the people, that this family originally came from Stambúl or Constantinople has any reasonable foundation, I am unable to decide.]

[Footnote 188: This seems also to have been the most important income in the time of Leo: “Riceve il re gran rendita delle gabelle che pagano le robe de’ forestieri.”]

[Footnote 189: In the Sónghay language “koy” means master, and is not only employed in other compositions, such as kút-koy (the shepherd), bír-koy (the marksman), but even as title for a governor, such as Túmbutu-koy (the governor of Timbúktu), Jínni-koy (the governor of Jínni). I therefore conclude that kó-koy means the master of the masters, or greatest master—the king of kings, like the Háusa “serkí sárakay.”]

[Footnote 190: Perhaps some might conjecture that this word geré-geré has some connection with the Gér-geri of Ebn Batúta (see above); but I think there is none.]

[Footnote 191: “Turáwa” is the plural of “ba-túre.” “Túre,” or “túri,” is an old word, already mentioned by Ebn Batúta (Journal Asiatique, 1843, tom. i. p. 201.): “Les hommes blancs, qui professent les doctrines sonnites et suivent le rite de Malik, sont designés ici (dans le royaume de Melle) par le nom de توري.” The word, therefore, seems to have been introduced into the Háusa language at a later period as designating the white people, and I think has connection with the word “túra” (to pray) in Fulfúlde, the language of the Fúlbe. I have only to mention that it never refers to any but Arabs or Europeans.]

[Footnote 192: “Kókoy kaina” properly means the little master, a very appropriate term for a eunuch in an Oriental court. The homonymy of bába-n-serkí, the chief eunuch, and babá-n-serkí, the great lord or king, in the Háusa language, is really provoking.]

[Footnote 193: Unfortunately I was unable to ascertain the elevation of the locality by observation, as I could only take a common thermometer with me on this trip; but, considering the whole ground along the road from Tintéllust, I think it can scarcely be less than 2500 feet.]

[Footnote 194: The mithkál of Ágades is equal to 1000 kurdí, 2500 of which make a Spanish or Austrian dollar.]

[Footnote 195: In an appendix will be given some routes which connect Ágades with other places, and, radiating from it in various directions, serve as rays of light to discover to us districts not yet visited by any European.]

CHAP. XIX.

DEPARTURE FROM ÁGADES. — STAY IN TIN-TÉGGANA.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, October 30th.]

We at length left Ágades. I felt as if I had enjoyed a glimpse of a totally different world, a new region of life, many relations of which were as yet obscure to me. Timbúktu, which was in the background of this novel and living picture, seemed an almost unattainable object. An acquaintance with it would not fail to throw light upon this advanced post of Sónghay nationality, and its state of civilization; but at that time I little expected that it would be my destiny to dwell a year in that mysterious place, and I had even reason to doubt the possibility of reaching it from this quarter. All my thoughts were bent on the south; and although at present retracing my steps towards the north, yet, as it carried me back to our head- quarters, whence I might soon expect to start for the southern regions, I regarded it as a step in advance.

But the commencement of the journey was most abortive, and made me rather regret that I had not spent the day in the town. Hámma was unable to find some of the asses belonging to the caravan, for the simple reason that our friend Zúmmuzuk had sold them; and the whole day was lost, so that we encamped after a march of scarcely two miles and a half. Here we were joined by Ibrahím and by a very amiable, intelligent Kél-owí of the name of Rábbot, who informed me that to the east of the valley Tefárrakad there were several other valleys not at all inferior to it in exuberance and variety of vegetation. As the most important among them, he named to me Ámdegra, Édob, Téwarni, Tíndawén, and Aságatay.

When at length, on Thursday morning, we fairly began our journey, we followed entirely our old road, Hámma being anxious to get home; but nevertheless, as the mountains and ridges which characterize this region now met the eyes from the other side, the scenery was a good deal varied, and I had frequent opportunities of completing my map of this part of the country. Besides, we chose our encampments in new localities; and many little incidents varied our journey, the most interesting of which was the approach of a party of five lions in the valley Búdde, when Hámma called us to arms. He, Rábbot, Mohammed, and I advanced to meet them, but they soon turned their backs, leaping over the rocky ground towards their mountain-retreat. The lion of Aïr does not seem to be a very ferocious animal, and, like those of all this border-region of the desert, has no mane—that is to say, as compared with other lions. The maneless lion of Guzerat is well known, but a similar species seems also to occur in Sind and Persia. The lion of Central Africa, at least of Bórnu and Logón, has a beautiful mane; and the skin of a lion of that region, which I took with me on my journey to western Sudán, excited the admiration of all who saw it.

The valley Tíggeda had now a very different aspect from that which it wore when we were going to Ágades; for while at that time, beautiful as it was, it was not enlivened by a single human being, now at its very head we met a considerable caravan of Kél-owí laden with salt, and accompanied by a herd of young camels to be bartered in the market of Ágades for corn, and further on we found a herd of from sixty to seventy head of cattle, and numerous flocks of goats, indulging in the rich herbage which had previously excited my astonishment. Our minds likewise were here excited by the important news that the old chief of Tintéllust had started for Sudán, not only with my fellow-travellers, but with the whole caravan; but while my fiery and frivolous Mohammed heaped conjecture upon conjecture, meditating how we should be able to reach them, Hámma, who knew his father-in-law better, and who was conscious of his own importance and dignity, remained incredulous. We had some very pretty mountain-views from this side, especially when we approached Mount Eghellál, behind which the Búnday and other mountains rose into view.

On the morning of the 5th of November, which was to be the day of our arrival in Tintéllust, it was so cold that we started rather late, Hámma simply declaring that the cold did not allow him to go on— “Dári yahánna fataúchi.” Having started at length, we made a long day’s march; and after eleven hours and a half travelling reached the well-known sand- hill opposite Tintéllust, where our encampment had stayed so long, not by the great road along the valley, but by “The Thief’s Passage,” in order to observe before we were observed.

But the residence of the great chief Ánnur was buried in the deepest silence; the courtiers, the blacksmiths, all the great men and ladies, had gone away. Hámma went to see if anybody remained behind, while we cooked our rice, and prepared to make ourselves comfortable for the night. That, however, was out of the question, for when he returned, he ordered us to decamp at once; and though nothing is more dreadful than a night’s march, particularly when it succeeds to a long day’s journey, yet in the enthusiasm awakened by the thought of going southwards, I with all my heart joined in the exclamation “sé fataúchi sé Kanó” (“no rest before Kanó”—properly, “nothing but travelling, nothing but Kanó”)!

It was ten o’clock in the evening when we started again along the broad valley, taking leave for ever of “the English Hill;” but I soon began to suffer from the consequences of fatigue. In order to avoid falling from my camel in my drowsy state, I was obliged to drag myself along, great part of the night, on foot, which was not at all agreeable, as the ground was at times very rugged, and covered with long grass. Having crossed a rocky flat, we entered, about four o’clock in the morning, the wide plain of Tin-téggana, stumbling along through the thick cover of bú-rékkeba and other sorts of herbage, till dawn, coming on with rather chilly air, revealed to our benumbed senses the encampment of the caravan. Having therefore made repeated halts, to give the people time to recognize us, in order not to occasion any alarm, as our leader Hámma was not with us, but had lain down at the roadside to get a few hours’ rest, we made straight for the two European tents which showed us precisely the residence of my fellow-travellers. The old chief Ánnur was up, and received me with great kindness—more kindly, I must say, than my colleagues, who apparently felt some jealousy on account of the success which had attended my proceedings.

Having once more taken possession of the well-known home of our little tent, I preferred looking about the encampment to lying down; for sleeping after sunrise is not agreeable to me.

The valley Tin-téggana, wherein Ánnur, with his people, was encamped, is in this place about three miles broad, being bordered towards the east by a low range of hills with the small cone of Ádode rising to a greater elevation; towards the west by the Búnday and some smaller mountains; towards the south, where the ground rises, it is lined by more detached peaks, while on the north side an open view extends down the valley as far as the large mountain-mass which borders the valley of Tintéllust on the north. Altogether it was a fine open landscape, embracing the country which forms the nucleus, if I may say so, of the domain of the old chief, whose camels pasture here the whole year round, while he himself usually takes up his residence in this place about this season, when nature is in its prime, and the weather becomes cool, in order to enjoy the country air.

We ourselves had as yet no idea of making a long stay here, but indulged in the hope of starting the next day, when all of a sudden about noon our old friend declared solemnly that he was unable to go with us at present, that he himself was obliged to wait for the salt-caravan, while his confidential slave Zinghína was now to go southwards. He said that, if we chose, we might go on with the latter. He supposed, perhaps, that none of us would dare to do so; but when I insisted upon it afterwards, he as well as Zinghína declared that the attempt was too dangerous; and it would have been absurd to insist on accompanying the slave. For the moment such a disappointment was very trying. However, I afterwards perceived that, though we had lost more than a month of the finest season for travelling, we had thereby acquired all possible security for safely attaining the object of our journey; for now we were obliged to send off all our luggage with Zinghína in advance, and might fully expect to travel with infinitely more ease and less trouble, when no longer encumbered with things which, though of little value, nevertheless attracted the cupidity of the people. At the time, however, even this was not at all agreeable, as Overweg and I had to part with almost all our things and to send them on to Kanó, to the care of a man of whose character we knew nothing.

[Sidenote: Friday, November 8th.]

Nearly all the Arabs and many of the Kél-owí started; and it awakened some feeling of regret to see them go and to be ourselves obliged to stay behind. Our friend Músa, who had been the most faithful of our Tinýlkum camel-drivers, who had visited us almost daily in our tent, and from whom we had obtained so much valuable information[196], was the last to take leave of us. But as soon as the caravan was out of sight, I determined to make the best possible use of this involuntary leisure, by sifting elaborately the varied information which I had been able to collect in Ágades, and by sending a full report to Europe, in order to engage the interest of the scientific public in our expedition, and to justify Her Majesty’s Government in granting us new supplies, without which, after our heavy losses, we should be obliged to return directly, leaving the chief objects of the expedition unattained. Owing to this resolution, our quiet life in Ásben was not, I hope, without its fruits.

Our encampment, too, became more cheerful and agreeable when, on the following day, we transferred it to the korámma Ofáyet, a beautiful little branch-wadi of the spacious valley Tin-téggana, issuing from a defile (a “kógo-n-dútsi”) formed by the Búnday and a lower mount to the south, along which led the path to Ásodi. It was most densely wooded with talha-trees, and overgrown with tall bu-rékkeba and allwot, and was thinned only very gradually, as immense branches and whole trees were cut down daily to feed the fires during the night; for it was at times extremely cold, and we felt most comfortable when in the evening we stretched ourselves in front of our tents, round an enormous fire. The tall herbage also was by degrees consumed, not only by the camels, but by the construction of small conical huts; so that gradually a varied and pleasant little village sprang up in this wild spot, which is represented in the accompanying wood-cut. The time which we were obliged to stay here would indeed have passed by most pleasantly but for the trouble occasioned to Overweg and myself by our impudent and dissolute Tunisian half-caste servant, who had become quite insupportable. Unfortunately we did not find an opportunity of sending him back; and I thought it best to take him with me to Kanó, where I was sure to get rid of him. Our other servant Ibrahím, also, though much more prudent, was not at all trustworthy, which was the more to be regretted as he had travelled all over Háusa, and even as far as Gónja, and might have proved of immense service. But fortunately I had another servant—a thin youth of most unattractive appearance, but who nevertheless was the most useful attendant I ever had; and though young he had roamed about a great deal over the whole eastern half of the desert, and shared in many adventures of the most serious kind. He possessed, too, a strong sense of honour, and was perfectly to be relied upon. This was Mohammed el Gatróni, a native of Gatrón, in the southern part of Fezzán, who, with a short interruption (when I sent him to Múrzuk with the late Mr. Richardson’s papers and effects), remained in my service till I returned to Fezzán in 1855.

The zeal with which I had commenced finishing my report was well rewarded; for on the 14th the Ghadámsi merchant Abu Bakr el Wákhshi (an old man whom I shall have occasion to mention repeatedly in the course of my journey) came to Ánnur to complain of a robbery committed upon part of his merchandise at Tasáwa. But for this circumstance he would not have touched at this place, and his people, whom he was sending to Ghadámes, would have travelled along the great road by Ásodi without our knowing anything about them. Being assured by the trustworthy old man that the parcel would reach Ghadámes in two months, I sent off the first part of my report; but unfortunately it arrived at that place when Her Majesty’s Agent, Mr. Charles Dickson, to whom I had addressed it, was absent in Tripoli,—the consequence being that it lay there for several months.

In the course of the 15th, while sitting quietly in my tent, I suddenly heard my name, “ʿAbd el Kerím,” pronounced by a well-known voice, and looking out, to my great astonishment saw the little sturdy figure of my friend Hámma trotting along at a steady pace, his iron spear in his hand. I thought he was gone to Bílma, as we had been told; but it appeared that, having come up with the salt-caravan at the commencement of the Hammáda, he only supplied them with more corn, and having conferred with them, had come back to assist his old father-in-law in the arduous task of keeping the turbulent tribes in some state of quiet. The degree of secrecy with which everything is done in this wild country is indeed remarkable, and no doubt contributes in a great measure to the influence and power of the sagacious chief of Tintéllust.

Four days later came my other friend, the foolish Mohammed, who had accompanied the expedition of the sultan of Ágades, and who was full of interesting details of this little campaign. Neither Astáfidet, the prince of the Kél-owí, nor ʿAbd el Káder, the sultan residing in Ágades, actually took part in the attack or “súkkua,” but kept at a distance. On asking my merry friend what was the result of the whole, and whether the state of the country to the north was now settled, and the road secure, he exclaimed, with a significant grimace, “Bábu dádi” (not very pleasant); and to what extent strength was sacrificed to euphony in this expression we were soon to learn; for the next day the “makéria,” the wife of the “mákeri” Elíyas, came to tell us that a ghazzia of the Éfadaye had suddenly fallen upon Tin-taghóde, and had carried off two large droves (gérki) of camels and all the moveable property. Such is the state of this country, where the chiefs, instead of punishing systematically the rebels and marauders, regard such instances of crime only as opportunities for enriching themselves with plunder. The Éfadaye do not muster more than from two hundred to three hundred spears; but they are generally assisted by the Ígammén and Édelén, two of the tribes of the Imghád whom I mentioned above.

The next day the old chief, accompanied by Hámma and seven other trusty companions, set out for Tintéyyat, in order to consult with the old mʿallem Azóri, “the wise man of Aïr,” about the means of preventing the bad consequences likely to arise from the turbulent state into which the country had fallen just when he was about to set out for Sudán.

The old chief, on his return from his important consultation, gave us some interesting information about “the Lion of Tintéyyat” (Azóri). Azóri, he said, had attained the highest degree of wisdom and learning, comprehending all divine and human things, without ever leaving the country of Aïr. He was now nearly blind, though younger in years than himself. His father had likewise been a very wise man. Formerly, according to our friend, there was another great mʿallem in the country, named Hámi, a native of Tintághódé; and as long as he lived, the Aníslimen, his fellow-citizens, had been good people and followed the way of justice, while at present their name “Aníslim” was become a mere mockery, for they were the worst of the lawless, and had lost all fear of God; indeed almost all the troubles into which the country had been plunged might be ascribed to their agency and intrigues. Here the old chief had touched on his favourite theme; and he gave vent to all his anger and wrath against those holy men, who were evidently opposed to his authority.

The old man was, in fact, on the most friendly terms with us, and instead of being suspicious of our “writing down his country,” was anxious to correct any erroneous idea which we might entertain respecting it. I shall never forget with what pleasure he looked over my sketch of the route from Tintéllust to Ágades, while I explained to him the principal features of it; and he felt a proud satisfaction in seeing a stranger from a far distant country appreciate the peculiar charms of the glens and mountains of his own native land. He was, in short, so pleased with our manners and our whole demeanour, that one day, after he had been reposing in my tent and chatting with me, he sent for Yusuf, and told him plainly that he apprehended that our religion was better than theirs; whereupon the Arab explained to him that our manners indeed were excellent, but that our religious creed had some great defects, in violating the unity of the Almighty God, and elevating one of His prophets from his real rank of servant of God to that of His Son. Ánnur, rising a little from his couch, looked steadily into Yusuf’s face, and said, “hákkanánne” (is it so)? As for me, in order not to provoke a disputation with Yusuf, who united in himself some of the most amiable with some of the most hateful qualities, I kept silence as long as he was present; but when he retired I explained to the chief that, as there was a great variety of sects among the Mohammedans, so there was also among the Christians, many of whom laid greater stress upon the unimpaired unity of the Creator than even the Mohammedans. So much sufficed for the justification of our religion; for the old man did not like to talk much upon the subject, though he was strict in his prayers, as far as we were able to observe. He was a man of business, who desired to maintain some sort of order in a country where everything naturally inclines to turbulence and disorder. In other respects, he allowed every man to do as he liked; and notwithstanding his practical severity, he was rather of a mild disposition, for he thought Europeans dreadful barbarians for slaughtering without pity such numbers of people in their battles, using big guns instead of spears and swords, which were, as he thought, the only manly and becoming weapons.

The 25th of November was a great market-day for our little settlement, for on the preceding day the long-expected caravan with provisions arrived from Damerghú, and all the people were buying their necessary supply; but we had much difficulty in obtaining what we wanted, as all our things—even the few dollars we had still left—were depreciated, and estimated at more than thirty per cent. less than their real value. After having recovered in Ágades a little from the weakness of my stomach, by the aid of the princely dishes sent me by ʿAbd el Káder, I had, notwithstanding the fine cool weather, once more to suffer from the effects of our almost raw and bitter dishes of Guinea corn, and the more so as I had no tea left to wash down this unpalatable and indigestible paste; and I felt more than common delight when we were regaled on the 27th by a fine strong soup made from the meat of the bullock which we had bought from Ánnur for twelve thousand kurdí. It was a day of great rejoicing, and a new epoch in our peaceful and dull existence, in consequence of which I found my health greatly restored.

Our patience, indeed, was tried to the utmost; and I looked for some moments with a sort of despair into Hámma’s face, when, on his return from a mission to the Éfadaye, which seemed not to have been quite successful, he told me on the 28th of November that we should still make a stay here of twenty-five days. Fortunately he always chose to view things on the worst side; and I was happy to be assured by the old chief himself, that our stay here would certainly not exceed fifteen days. Nevertheless, as the first short days of our sham travelling afterwards convinced me, the veracious Hámma, who had never deceived me, was in reality quite right in his statement. My friend came to take leave of me, as he was to absent himself for a few days, in order to visit an elder sister of his, who lived in Telíshiet, further up the valley of Tin-téggana; and of course I had to supply him with some handsome little production of European manufacture.

We had full reason to admire the energy of the old chief, who on the 30th of November went to a “privy council” with Mʿallem Azóri and Sultan Astáfidet, which was appointed to be held in some solitary glen, halfway between Tin-téggana and Ásodi, and, after he had returned late in the evening of the 1st of December, was galloping along our encampment in the morning of the 2nd, in order to visit the new watering-place lower down in the principal valley,—the former well beginning to dry up, or rather requiring to be dug to a greater depth, as the moisture collected during the rainy season was gradually receding. This was the first time we saw our friend on horseback; and though he was seventy-six years of age, he sat very well and upright in his saddle. Overweg went on one of the following days to see the well (which was about four miles distant from our encampment, in a W.N.W. direction, beyond a little village of the name of Óbrasen), but found it rather a basin formed between the rocky cliffs, and fed, according to report, by a spring.

Meanwhile I was surprised to learn from Mohammed Byrji, Ánnur’s grandson, and next claimant to the succession after Háj ʿAbdúwa, that the last-named, together with El Úsu or Lúsu, the influential chief of Azanéres, and El Hossén, had started for the south six days previously, in order to purchase provisions for the salt-caravan. In this little country something is always going on, and the people all appear to lead a very restless life; what wonder, then, if most of them are the progeny of wayfarers, begotten from fortuitous and short-lived matches? Perhaps in no country is domestic life wanting to such a degree as among the Kél-owí properly so called; but it would be wrong to include in this category the tribes of purer blood living at some distance from this centre of the salt-trade.

At length, on the 5th of December, the first body of the salt-caravan arrived from Bílma, opening the prospect of a speedy departure from this our African home; but although we were very eager to obtain a glance at them, they did not become visible, but kept further to the west. The following evening, however, several friends and partisans of the old chief arrived, mounted on mehára, and were received by the women with loud shrill cries of welcome (“tirlelák” in Temáshight) very similar to the “tehlíl” of the Arabs.

Preparations were now gradually made for our setting out; but previously it was necessary to provide a supply of water, not only for the immediate use of the numerous salt-caravan, but for the constant one of those people who were to remain behind during the absence of their chief and master. Accordingly, on the 7th of December the old chief left our encampment, with all his people, in solemn procession, in order to dig a new well; and after having long searched with a spear for the most favourable spot, they set to work close to the entrance of a small branch-wádi, joining the main valley from the east side, not far from Ádode; and having obtained a sufficient supply of water, they walled the well in with branches and stones, so that it was capable of retaining water at least till the beginning of the next rainy season, when, most probably, the floods would destroy it. There are, indeed, in these countries very few undertakings of this kind the existence of which is calculated upon for more than a year.

Meanwhile, during our long lazy stay in this tranquil alpine retreat of the wilderness, after I had finished my report on Ágades, I began to study in a more comprehensive way the interesting language of that place, and in order to effect that purpose had been obliged to make a sort of treaty with that shameless profligate Zúmmuzuk, who, for his exploits in Ágades, had received severe punishment from his master. The chief conditions of our covenant were, that he was to receive every day a certain allowance, but that during his presence in my tent he was not to move from the place assigned him, the limits of which were very accurately defined—of course at a respectable distance from my luggage; and if he touched anything I was officially permitted by Ánnur to shoot him on the spot. Notwithstanding the coolness and reserve which I was obliged to adopt in my intercourse with this man, I was fully capable of estimating his veracity; and in the course of my journey and my researches I convinced myself that in no one instance did he deviate from the truth.

Going on in this way, I had completed, by the 8th of the month, an exact and full vocabulary of the Emgédesi language, and could with more leisure indulge in a conversation with my friend Ámagay, the chief eunuch and confidential servant of the sultan of Ágades, who paid me a visit, and brought me the most recent news from the capital. Affairs were all in the best state, his business now being merely to arrange a few matters with Ánnur before the latter set out for Sudán. He informed me that the salt-caravan of the Kél-gerés and Itísan had long ago returned from Bílma, taking with them our letter to the sultan of Sókoto, and accompanied by Mohammed Bóro, who had taken all his children with him except those who were still attending school. Ámagay had also brought with him the curious letter from Mustapha the governor of Fezzán, which is spoken of by Mr. Richardson. I treated him with some coffee (which was now with me a very precious article, as I had but little left), and made him a small present.

[Footnote 196: I am sorry that a long letter on the topography of the country (written chiefly from Músa’s information), which I sent to Europe, appears never to have arrived. It is for this reason that I am unable to lay down with some degree of accuracy that part of the country of Ásben which I did not visit myself.]

CHAP. XX.

FINAL DEPARTURE FOR SUDÁN.

[Sidenote: Thursday, December 12th, 1850. Safer 7th, 1266.]

At length the day broke when we were to move on and get nearer the longed-for object of our journey, though we were aware that our first progress would be slow. But before we departed from this region, which had become so familiar to us, I wished to take a last glimpse down the valley towards Tintéllust, and wandered towards the offshoots of Mount Búnday, which afforded me a fine prospect over the whole valley up to that beautiful mountain-mass which forms so characteristic a feature in the configuration of the whole country. The hills which I ascended consisted of basalt, and formed a low ridge, which was separated from the principal mountain-mass by a hollow of sandstone formation. Having bade farewell to the blue mountains of Tintéllust, I took leave of the charming little valley Ofáyet, which, having been a few moments previously a busy scene of life, was now left to silence and solitude.

Late in the morning we began to move, but very slowly, halting every now and then. At length the old chief himself came up, walking like a young man before his méheri, which he led by the nose-cord; and the varied groups composing the caravan began to march more steadily. It was a whole nation in motion, the men on camels or on foot, the women on bullocks or on asses, with all the necessaries of the little household, as well as the houses themselves,—a herd of cattle, another of milk- goats, and numbers of young camels running playfully alongside, and sometimes getting between the regular lines of the laden animals. The ground was very rocky and rugged, and looked bare and desolate in the extreme, the plain being strewn for a while with loose basaltic stones, like the plain of Tághist.

Several high peaks characterize this volcanic region; and after having left to our right the peak called Ebárrasa, we encamped, a little before noon, at the north-eastern foot of a very conspicuous peak called Teléshera, which had long attracted my attention. We had scarcely chosen our ground when I set out on foot in order to ascend this high mountain, from which I expected to obtain a view over the eastern side of the picturesque mass of the Eghellál; but its ascent proved very difficult, chiefly because I had not exerted my strength much during our long stay in this country. The flanks of the peak, after I had ascended the offshoots, which consisted of sandstone, were most precipitous and abrupt, and covered with loose stones, which gave way under my feet, and often carried me a long way down. The summit consisted of perpendicular trachytic pillars, of quadrangular and almost regular form, 2½ feet in thickness, as if cut by the hand of man, some of them about one hundred feet high, while others had been broken off at greater or less height. It is at least 1500 feet above the bottom of the valley. The view was interesting, although the sky was not clear; I was able to take several angles; but the western flank of the Eghellál, which I was particularly anxious to obtain a sight of, was covered by other heights.

Beyond the branch-wádi which surrounds this mountain on the south side, there is a ridge ranging to a greater length, and rising from the ground with a very precipitous wall; this was examined by Mr. Overweg, and found to consist likewise of trachyte interspersed with black basaltic stone, and crystals of glassy felspar. Having attained my purpose, I began my retreat, but found the descent more troublesome than the ascent, particularly as my boots were torn to pieces by the sharp stones; and the fragments giving way under my feet, I fell repeatedly. I was quite exhausted when I reached the tent; but a cup of strong coffee soon restored me. However, I never afterwards on my whole journey felt strong enough to ascend a mountain of moderate elevation.

[Sidenote: Friday, December 13th.]

Starting rather late, we continued through the mountainous region, generally ascending, while a cold wind made our old friend the chief shiver and regard with feelings of envy my thick black bernús, although he had got bernúses enough from us not only to protect him against cold, but us too against any envious feeling for the little which was left us. Further on, in several places the granite (which at the bottom of the valley alternates with sandstone) was perfectly disintegrated, and had become like meal. Here the passage narrowed for about an hour, when we obtained a view of a long range stretching out before us with a considerable cone lying in front of it. Keeping now over rocky ground, then along the bottom of a valley called Tánegat, about half a mile broad, where we passed a well on our right, we at length reached a mountain-spur starting off from the ridge on our right, and entered a beautiful broad plain stretching out to the foot of a considerable mountain-group, which was capped by a remarkable picturesquely-indented cone called Mári. Here we saw the numerous camels of the salt-caravan grazing in the distance to our left; and after having crossed a small rocky flat, we encamped in the very channel of the torrent, being certain that at this season no such danger as overwhelmed us in the valley Éghazar was to be feared. Ámagay, who was still with us, paid me a visit in the afternoon, and had a cup of coffee; he also came the next morning. Near our encampment were some fine acacia-trees of the species called gáwo, which I shall have to mention repeatedly in my travels.

[Sidenote: Saturday, December 14th.]

We started early, but encamped, after a short march of about six miles, on uneven ground intersected by numbers of small ridges. The reason of the halt was, that the whole of the caravan was to come up and to join together; and our old chief here put on his official dress (a yellow bernús of good quality), to show his dignity as leader of such a host of people.

Salt forms the only article conveyed by this caravan. The form of the largest cake is very remarkable; but it must be borne in mind that the salt in Bílma is in a fluid state, and is formed into this shape by pouring it into a wooden mould. This pedestal or loaf of salt (kántu) is equal to five of the smaller cakes, which are called áserím; and each áserím equals four of the smallest cakes, which are called “fótu.” The bags, made of the leaves of the dúm-palm (or the “kábba”), in which these loaves are packed up, are called “tákrufa.” But the finest salt is generally in loose grains; and this is the only palatable salt, while the ordinary salt of Bílma is very bitter to the European palate, and spoils everything: but the former is more than three times the value of the latter. The price paid in Bílma is but two zékkas for three kántus.

In the evening there was “urgí,” or “éddil” (playing), and “ráwa” or “adéllul” (dancing), all over the large camp of the salt-caravan, and the drummers or “masugánga” were all vying with each other, when I observed that our drummer, Hassan, who was proud of his talent, and used to call for a little present, was quite outdone by the drummer of that portion of the caravan which was nearest to us, who performed his work with great skill, and caused general enthusiasm among the dancing people. The many lively and merry scenes, ranging over a wide district, itself picturesque, and illuminated by large fires in the dusk of evening, presented a cheerful picture of animated native life, looking at which a traveller might easily forget the weak points discoverable in other phases of life in the desert.

[Sidenote: Sunday, December 15th.]

The general start of the united “aïri,” or caravan, took place with great spirit; and a wild enthusiastic cry, raised over the whole extent of the encampment, answered to the beating of the drums. For, though the Kél-owí are greatly civilized by the influence of the black population, nevertheless they are still “half demons,” while the thoroughbred and freeborn Amóshagh (whatever name he may bear, whether Tárki, ba- Ásbenchi, Kindín, or Chapáto) is regarded by all the neighbouring tribes, Arabs as well as Africans, as a real demon (“jin”). Notwithstanding all this uproar, we were rather astonished at the small number of camels laden with salt, which formed Ánnur’s caravan; for they did not exceed two hundred, and their loads in the aggregate would realize in Kanó at the very utmost three thousand dollars, which, if taken as the principal revenue of the chief, seems very little. The whole number of the caravan did not exceed two thousand camels.

However enthusiastically the people had answered to the call of the drums, the loading of the camels took a long time; and the old chief himself had remarkably few people to get ready his train: but the reason probably was, that he was obliged to leave as many people behind as possible for the security of the country. When at length we set out, the view which presented itself was really highly exciting; for here a whole nation was in motion, going on its great errand of supplying the wants of other tribes, and bartering for what they stood in need of themselves. All the drums were beating; and one string of camels after the other marched up in martial order, led on by the “mádogu,” the most experienced and steadfast among the servants or followers of each chief. It was clear that our last night’s encampment had been chosen only on account of its being well protected all around by ridges of rock; for on setting out to-day we had to follow up, in the beginning, a course due west, in order to return into our main direction along the valley. We then gradually began to turn round the very remarkable Mount Mári, which here assumed the figure shown in the sketch. Further on I saw the people busy in digging up a species of edible bulbous roots called “adíllewan” by the Kél-owí. This, I think, besides the “bába,” or “níle” (the _Indigofera endecaphylla_), the first specimens of which we had observed two days ago shooting up unostentatiously among the herbage, was the most evident proof that we had left the region of the true desert, though we had still to cross a very sterile tract.