Chapter XXII (5)

With regard to the precious metals, a small supply of silver is imported by the merchants, but rather exceptionally, most of the latter being but agents or commissioners engaged to effect the sale of the merchandise forwarded from Tripoli and Fezzán. The silver likewise supplies a branch of industry, the silversmiths, who are generally identical with the blacksmiths, being very clever in making rings and anklets. In Kanó scarcely any tradesman will object to receive a dollar in payment. With regard to iron, which forms a very considerable branch of industry in the place, I will only say that it is far inferior to that of Wándala or Mándara and Bubanjídda, which I shall mention in the course of my proceedings. Spears, daggers, hoes, and stirrups are the articles most extensively produced in iron.

As for gold, though a general standard, of the mithkál at four thousand kurdí, is usually maintained, in Timbúktu its price greatly varies, from three thousand five hundred up to four thousand five hundred kurdí; but this unreasonable fluctuation is but nominal, gold being scarcely ever bought in Timbúktu for ready money, but for túrkedís, when a túrkedí bought in Kanó for eighteen hundred, or at the utmost two thousand, fetches there a mithkál. One hundred mithkáls of gold may easily be bought in Kanó at any time. Even the common currency of the Kanó market, the “urí” (_pl._ kurdí) or shell (_Cypræa moneta_), 2,500 of which are equal to the Spanish or Austrian dollar[38], forms an important article of import and commerce, though I have not been able to ascertain that a large quantity is ever introduced at a time. Nevertheless that must sometimes happen, as a great amount of shells has been exported to Bórnu, where they have been recently introduced as currency; and this obviously explains why since the year 1848 the demand for these shells has so greatly increased on the coast.

These merely approximative figures cannot be reduced to the form of a balance-sheet; but they will give a general idea of the commercial activity of the place. I will conclude these few remarks by observing that the market of Kanó is better supplied with articles of food than any other market in Negroland; but meat as well as corn is dearer here than in Kúkawa, particularly the latter. Besides the great market-place, there are several smaller ones dispersed through the town, the most noted of which are the káswa-n-kurmí, Mandáweli, Hanga, káswa-n-máta, káswa-n-áyagi, káswa-n-Jírba, káswa-n-Yákase, káswa-n-kófan Wámbay, and the káswa-n-kófan Náyisa.

The province of Kanó[39], which comprises a very fertile district of considerable extent, contains, according to my computation, more than two hundred thousand free people, besides at least an equal number of slaves; so that the whole population of the province amounts to more than half a million; though it may greatly exceed this number. The governor is able to raise an army of seven thousand horse, and more than twenty thousand men on foot. In the most flourishing state of the country, the governor of Kanó is said to have been able to bring into the field as many as ten thousand horse.

The tribute which he levies is very large, considering the state of the country, amounting altogether to about one hundred millions of kurdí, besides the presents received from merchants. The most considerable item of his revenue consists in the “kurdí-n-kása” (what is called in Kanúri “lárderám”), or the ground-rent. It is said to amount to ninety millions, and is levied, both here and in the province of Kátsena, not from the ground under cultivation, but every head of a family has to pay two thousand five hundred kurdí, or just a Spanish dollar; in the province of Zégzeg, on the contrary, the kurdí-n-kása is a tax of five hundred kurdí levied on every fertáña or hoe, and a single hoe will cultivate a piece of ground capable of producing from one hundred to two hundred “démmi” or sheaves of grain (sorghum and pennisetum), each of which contains two kél, while fifty kél are reckoned sufficient for a man’s sustenance during a whole year. Besides the kurdí-n-kása, the governor levies an annual tax called “kurdí-n-korófi,” of seven hundred kurdí[40] on every dyeing-pot or korófi, of which there are more than two thousand in the town alone; a “fítto” of five hundred kurdí on every slave sold in the market; an annual tax, “kurdí-n-debíno,” of six hundred kurdí on every palm-tree, and a small tax called “kurdí-n-ráfi” on the vegetables sold in the market, such as dánkali or sweet potatoes, gwáza or yams, rísga, rógo, &c. This latter tax is very singular, as the meat, or the cattle brought into the town, as far as I know, does not pay any tax at all. Clapperton was mistaken in stating that all the date-trees in the town belong to the governor, which is not more true than that all the sheds in the market belong to him.

The authority of the governor is not absolute, even without considering the appeal which lies to his liege lord in Sókoto or Wúrno, if the subjects’ complaints can be made to reach so far; a sort of ministerial council is formed, to act in conjunction with the governor, which in important cases he cannot well avoid consulting. At the head of this council stands the ghaladíma, whose office originated, as we shall see, in the empire of Bórnu, and who very often exercises, as is the case in Kanó, the highest influence, surpassing that of the governor himself; then follows the “serkí-n-dáwakay” (the master of the horse), an important charge in barbarous countries, where victory depends almost always on the cavalry; then the “bánda-n-Kanó” (a sort of commander-in- chief); then the “alkáli” or chief justice, the “chiróma-n-Kanó” (the eldest son of the governor, or some one assuming this title), who exercises the chief power in the southern part of the province; the “serkí-n-báy” (properly, the chief of the slaves), who has the inspection of the northern districts of the province as far as Kazáure; then the “gadó” or lord of the treasury, and finally the “serkí-n-sháno” (the master of the oxen, or rather the quartermaster-general), who has all the military stores under his care; for the ox, or rather the bull, is the ordinary beast of burden in Negroland. It is characteristic that, when the governor is absent paying his homage to his liege lord, it is not the ghaladíma, but the gadó and the serkí-n-sháno who are his lieutenants or substitutes.

With regard to the government in general, I think, in this province, where there is so much lively intercourse, and where publicity is given very soon to every incident, it is not oppressive, though the behaviour of the ruling class is certainly haughty, and there is, no doubt, a great deal of injustice inflicted in small matters. The etiquette of the court, which is far more strict than in Sókoto, must prevent any poor man from entering the presence of the governor. The Fúlbe marry the handsome daughters of the subjugated tribe, but would not condescend to give their own daughters to the men of that tribe as wives. As far as I saw, their original type has been well preserved as yet, though, by obtaining possession of wealth and comfort, their warlike character has been greatly impaired, and the Féllani-n-Kanó have become notorious for their cowardice throughout the whole of Negroland.[41]

[Footnote 26: Laird’s and Oldfield’s Narrative, vol. i. p. 233. As this clear and rational conviction, which the meritorious man who has laboured so long for that part of Africa entertained, has been entirely confirmed by my succeeding discovery, I think it well to give to it all the publicity which it deserves. The two learned geographers of Africa, Mr. Cooley and MacQueen, concurred entirely in this opinion.]

[Footnote 27: ʿOthmán has since died of cholera, which made its appearance in Kanó in 1855. I do not know the name of his successor. For the sake of the country, I entertain the hope that he may be more energetic than his predecessor.]

[Footnote 28: The very strong wind, which I had always the misfortune to encounter when ascending Mount Dalá, did not allow me to enter into all the details of the sketch, which would be requisite to give a true picture of the variety of the scene; and the glowing, lively tone spread over the whole has been inadequately caught by the artist. I must also observe that the southern quarter of the town, which is at too great a distance from this hill to be discernible, is far more picturesque than the northern one.]

[Footnote 29: Clapperton and Denham’s Travels, vol. ii. p. 50.]

[Footnote 30: There is a great variety of this article, of which I shall enumerate a few kinds:—“farí-n-zénne,” the white undyed one; “zenne déffowa,” of light-blue colour; “fessagída,” with a broad line of silk; “hammakúku,” with less silk, sold generally for 3000 kurdí; “mailémú,” sold for 2500; “zelluwámi,” a peculiar zénne with a silk border; “jumáda,” another similar kind; “da-n-katánga,” once a very favourite article of female dress, and therefore called “the child of the market” (of the word katánga, I have spoken on a former occasion), with red and black silk in small quantity, and a little white; “albássa-n-Kwára” a very peculiar name, chosen to denote a kind of zénne of three stripes of mixed colours; “gódo,” white and black and of thick thread; “alkílla,” white and black chequered; “sáki,” silk and cotton interwoven, and forming small squares black and white; “kéki,” half túrkedí (that is to say indigo-coloured), half “sáki,” or silk and cotton interwoven; “kéki serkí bokoy,” four kinds. Besides, there are ten kinds of zénnwa entirely of silk, but these are made better in Núpe than in Kanó. One of these, called “biní da gáni” (follow me and look), a name which is also given to a conspicuous kind of beads, is distinguished by three colours—yellow, red, and blue. Then there is a zénne made of atlas, called “massarchí;” another of coloured Manchester; and the simple one of Manchester, which is called “béfta.”]

[Footnote 31: Among these specimens is also an undyed and a dyed specimen of the “ríga tsámia,” which seems to deserve a good deal of interest, as it consists half of home-made silk, obtained from a peculiar kind of silkworm, which lives on the tamarind-tree. I also sent home from Kúkawa, at a former period, a piece of native cloth of the Kwána, a tribe of the Korórofa.]

[Footnote 32: There are many other branches of manufacture in Kanó which are too minute to be enumerated here. I will only mention the framing of the little looking-glasses, called lemmʿa, imported from Tripoli, and the immense variety of bótta or múrta, small leathern boxes. There is also a kind of small box made with great neatness from the kernel of the dúm-fruit.]

[Footnote 33: This trade will now be greatly affected by the abolition of the slave-trade in Tripoli.]

[Footnote 34: I need only refer to the memorable passage in his Journal, Vol. ii. p. 203.—“The best of the slaves now go to Niffee, to be there shipped for America. They are mostly males, and are minutely examined before departure.” (This latter circumstance agrees exactly with my own observations.) “From all reports there is _an immense traffic of slaves that way exchanged against American goods_, which are driving out of the markets all the merchandise of the North.” But another passage is not less clear, p. 228. f. “Slaves are sent from Zinder to Niffee. Indeed it now appears that all this part of Africa is put under contribution to _supply the South American market with slaves_.”]

[Footnote 35: The names of the different kinds of beads, of which I have collected thirty-five, bear evident testimony to the imaginative powers and lively character of the Háusáwa.]

[Footnote 36: Originally these came from Nuremberg, but of late they have been also produced in Leghorn.]

[Footnote 37: I will here only mention, that the profit on the copper for the Jellába, if they do not go themselves to the hófra, but buy it in Dar-Fúr, is as follows:—In Fúr they buy the kantár of copper for one sedáshi (slave), equal to the value of a kantár of ivory, and sell it in Kúkawa for 4000 rottls, equal to two kantárs of ivory. In Kanó the price is about the same.]

[Footnote 38: There is no difference made between these two coins, women in general even preferring Maria Theresa to the two columns on the Spanish dollar, which they fancy to represent cannon.]

[Footnote 39: For a list of the principal places of the province see Appendix, No. II.]

[Footnote 40: Other people have stated to me that the kurdí-n-korófi did not exceed 500 kurdí.]

[Footnote 41: For some of the chief routes connecting Kanó with the principal places around, and for an account of Korórofa and Wukári, see Appendix, No. III.]

CHAP. XXVI.

STARTING FOR KÚKAWA. — THE FRONTIER-DISTRICT.

[Sidenote: Sunday, March 9th.]

The traveller who would leave a place where he has made a long residence, often finds that his departure involves him in a great deal of trouble, and is by no means an easy affair. Moreover my situation when, after much delay, I was about to leave Kanó was peculiarly embarrassing. There was no caravan; the road was infested by robbers; and I had only one servant upon whom I could rely, or who was really attached to me, while I had been so unwell the preceding day as to be unable to rise from my couch. However, I was full of confidence; and with the same delight with which a bird springs forth from its cage, I hastened to escape from these narrow, dirty mud-walls into the boundless creation.

There being scarcely any one to assist my faithful Gatróni, the loading of my three camels took an immense time, and the horseman destined to accompany me to the frontier of the Kanó territory grew rather impatient. At length, at about two o’clock in the afternoon, I mounted my unsightly black four-dollar nag, and following my companion, who (in a showy dress, representing very nearly the German costume about the time of the Thirty Years’ war, and well mounted), gave himself all possible airs of dignity, started forth from the narrow streets of Dalá into the open fields.

I felt my heart lightened, and, forgetting what had passed, began to think only of the wide field now opening before me, if fresh means should reach us in Kúkawa. We had taken a very circuitous road in order to pass through the widest of the fourteen gates of the town: but the long passage through the wall was too narrow for my unwieldy luggage; and my impatient, self-conceited companion fell into despair, seeing that we should be unable to reach the night’s quarters destined for us. At length all was again placed upon the patient animals; and my noble Bu-Séfi taking the lead of the short string of my caravan, we proceeded onwards, keeping at a short distance from the wall, till we reached the highroad from the kófa-n-Wámbay. Here too is a considerable estate belonging to a ba-Ásbenchí (a man from Ásben), who has a company of slaves always residing here. Going slowly on through the well-cultivated country, we reached a small watercourse. Being anxious to know in what direction the torrent had its discharge, and unable to make it out from my own observation, I took the liberty of asking my companion; but the self-conceited courtier, though born a slave, thought himself insulted by such a question, and by the presumption that he ever paid attention to such trivial things as the direction of a watercourse, or the name of a village!

Having watered our horses here, I and my friend went on in advance, to secure quarters for the night, and chose them in a small hamlet, where, after some resistance, a mʿallem gave us up part of his courtyard surrounded with a fence of the stalks of Guinea corn. When the camels came up we pitched our tent. The boy ʿAbd-Alla, however, seeing that my party was so small, and fearing that we should have some misadventure, had run away and returned to Kanó.

Though there was much talk of thieves, who indeed infest the whole neighbourhood of this great market-town, and, excited by the hope of remaining unpunished under an indolent government, very often carry off camels during the night even from the middle of the town, we passed a tranquil night, and got off at a tolerably early hour the next morning. The character of the country is almost the same as that during our last day’s march in coming from Kátsena, small clusters of huts and detached farms being spread about over the cultivated country, where we observed also some tobacco-fields just in flower: my attention was more attracted by a small range of hills in the distance on our left. I was also astonished at the little traffic which I observed on this route, though we met a considerable natron-caravan coming from Zínder, the ass and the bullock going on peaceably side by side, as is always the case in Negroland. The country continued to improve; and the fields of Charó, shaded as they were by luxuriant trees, looked fertile and well cared for, while the clusters of neat huts scattered all about had an air of comfort. Here we ought to have passed the previous night; and my companion had gone in advance to deliver his order, and probably to get a good luncheon instead of his missed supper. Beyond this village, or rather district, cultivation seemed to be less careful; but perhaps the reason was only that the villages were further from the road.

The quiet course of domestic slavery has very little to offend the mind of the traveller; the slave is generally well treated, is not over worked, and is very often considered as a member of the family. Scenes caused by the running away of a slave in consequence of bad and severe treatment occur every day with the Arabs, who generally sell their slaves, even those whom they have had some time, as soon as occasion offers; but with the natives they are very rare. However, I was surprised at observing so few home-born slaves in Negroland—with the exception of the Tawárek, who seem to take great pains to rear slaves—and I have come to the conclusion, that marriage among domestic slaves is very little encouraged by the natives; indeed I think myself justified in supposing that a slave is very rarely allowed to marry. This is an important circumstance in considering domestic slavery in Central Africa; for if these domestic slaves do not of themselves maintain their numbers, then the deficiency arising from ordinary mortality must constantly be kept up by a new supply, which can only be obtained by kidnapping or, more generally, by predatory incursions, and it is this necessity which makes even domestic slavery appear so baneful and pernicious. The motive for making these observations in this place was the sight of a band of slaves, whom we met this morning, led on in two files, and fastened one to the other by a strong rope round the neck.

Our march was to be but a short one, as we were to pass the remainder of the day and the following night in Gezáwa; and as it was still long before noon, and we had the hottest time of the day before us, I was anxious to encamp outside the town in the shade of some fine tree, but my escort would not allow me to do so. We therefore entered the town, which is surrounded with a clay wall in tolerable repair, and moreover by a small ditch on the outside; but the interior presents a desolate aspect, only about a third part of the space being occupied by detached cottages. Here I was lodged in a small hot shíbki (reed hut), and passed the “éni” most uncomfortably, cursing my companion and all the escorts in the world, and resolved never again to take up my quarters inside a town, except where I was to make a stay of some length. I was therefore delighted, in the course of the afternoon, to hear from the man who had taken the camels outside the town upon the pasture-ground, that the sheríf Konché had arrived and sent me his compliments.

I had once seen this man in Kanó, and had been advised to wait for him, as he was likewise on his way to Kúkawa; but knowing how slow Arabs are, and little suspecting what a sociable and amiable man he was, I thought it better to go on; whereupon he, thinking that my company was preferable to a longer stay, hastened to follow me. To-day, however, I did not see him, as he had encamped outside the town; still I had already much reason to thank him, as he had brought back my fickle runaway servant ʿAbd-Alla, whom after some reprimand, and a promise on his side to remain with me in future, I took back, as I was very much in want of a servant. He was a native of the country, a Baháushe with a little Arab blood in him, and had been reduced to slavery. Afterwards, in Bórnu, a man claimed him as his property. His mother, who was living not far from Gérki, was also about this time carried into slavery, having gone to some village where she was kidnapped. Such things are of daily occurrence in these countries on the borders of two territories. The lad’s sister had a similar fate.

The inhabitants of Gezáwa seem to be devoted almost entirely to cattle- breeding; and in the market which was held to-day (as it is every Monday) outside the town, nothing else was offered for sale but cattle and sheep, scarcely a piece of cotton cloth being laid out, and very little corn. Also round the town there are scarcely any traces of cultivation. The mayor seemed not to be in very enviable circumstances, and bore evident traces of sorrow and anxiety; indeed the laziness and indolence of the governor of Kanó in neglecting the defence of the wealth and the national riches of his province are incredible, and can only be tolerated by a liege lord just as lazy and indifferent as himself. But at that period the country still enjoyed some tranquillity and happiness, while from the day on which the rebel Bokhári took possession of Khadéja, as I shall soon have occasion to relate, the inhabitants of all the eastern part of this beautiful province underwent daily vexations, so that the towns on this road were quite deserted when I passed a second time through this country, in December, 1854.

Early next morning we loaded our camels and left the town, in order to join our new travelling companion, who by this time had also got ready his little troop. It consisted of himself on horseback, his “sirríya,” likewise on horseback, three female attendants, six natives, and as many sumpter oxen. He himself was a portly Arab, with fine, sedate manners, such as usually distinguish wealthy people of the Gharb (Morocco); for he was a native of Fás, and though in reality not a sheríf (though the title of a sheríf in Negroland means scarcely anything but an impudent, arrogant beggar), yet, by his education and fine, noble character, he deserved certainly to be called a gentleman. The name “Konché” (Mr. Sleep) had been given to him by the natives, from his very reasonable custom of sleeping, or pretending to sleep, the whole day during the Rhamadán, which enabled him to bear the fasting more easily. His real name was ʿAbd el Khafíf.

Our first salutation was rather cold; but we soon became friends; and I must say of him that he was the most noble Arab merchant I have seen in Negroland. Though at present he had not much merchandise of value with him, he was a wealthy man, and had enormous demands upon several governors and princes in Negroland, especially upon Múniyóma, or the governor of Múniyo, who was indebted to him for about thirty millions—shells, of course, but nevertheless a very large sum in this country. Of his “sirríya,” who always rode at a respectful distance behind him, I cannot speak, as she was veiled from top to toe; but if a conclusion might be drawn from her attendants, who were very sprightly, well-formed young girls, she must have been handsome. The male servants of my new friend were all characteristically dressed, and armed in the native fashion with bows and arrows,—knapsacks, water-bottles, and drinking-vessels all hanging around them in picturesque confusion; but among them there was a remarkable fellow, who had already given me great surprise in Kanó. When lying one day in a feverish state on my hard couch, I heard myself saluted in Romaic or modern Greek. The man who thus addressed me had long whiskers, and was as black as any negro. But I had some difficulty in believing him to be a native of Negroland. Yet such he was, though by a stay in Stambúl of some twenty years, from his boyhood, he had not only learned the language perfectly, but also adopted the manners, and I might almost say the features, of the modern Greeks.

In such company we continued pleasantly on, sometimes through a cultivated country, at others through underwood, meeting now and then a motley caravan of horses, oxen, and asses, all laden with natron, and coming from Múniyo. Once there was also a mule with the other beasts of burden; and on inquiry, on this occasion, I learnt that this animal, which I had supposed to be frequent in Negroland, is very rare, at least in these parts, and in Kanó always fetches the high price of from sixty to eighty thousand kurdí, which is just double the rate of a camel. In Wángara and Gónja the mule seems to be more frequent. But there is only one in Kúkawa and in Timbúktu, the latter belonging to one of the richest Morocco merchants.

Animated scenes succeeded each other:—now a well, where the whole population of a village or zángo were busy in supplying their wants for the day; then another, where a herd of cattle was just being watered; a beautiful tamarind-tree spreading a shady canopy over a busy group of talkative women selling victuals, ghussub-water, and sourmilk, or “cotton.” About ten o’clock detached dúm-palms began to impart to the landscape a peculiar character, as we approached the considerable but open place Gabezáwa, which at present exhibited the busy and animated scene of a well-frequented market. In this country the market-days of the towns succeed each other by turns, so that all the inhabitants of a considerable district can take advantage every day of the traffic in the peculiar article in which each of these places excels.

While pushing our way through the rows of well-stocked sheds, I became aware that we were approaching the limits of the Kanúri language; for being thirsty, I wished to buy ghussub-water (“furá” in Háusa), but in asking for it, received from the women fresh butter (“fulá” in Kanúri), and had some difficulty in making them understand that I did not want the latter. Continuing our march without stopping, we reached at noon the well-known (that is to say, among the travelling natives) camping- ground of Kúka mairuá, an open place surrounded by several colossal specimens of the monkey-bread tree, kúka or _Adansonia digitata_, which all over this region of Central Africa are not of that low, stunted growth which seems to be peculiar to them near the coast, but in general attain to a height of from sixty to eighty feet. Several troops of native traders were already encamped here, while a string of some thirty camels, most of them unloaded, and destined to be sold in Kanó, had just arrived. A wide-spreading tamarind-tree formed a natural roof over a busy market-scene, where numbers of women were selling all the eatables and delicacies of the country. The village lay to the south-east. Here we pitched our tents close together, as robbers and thieves are very numerous in the neighbourhood; and I fired repeatedly during the night, a precaution which the event proved to be not at all useless. The name of the place signifies “the Adansonia with the water.” However, the latter part of the name seemed rather ironical, as I had to pay forty kurdí for filling a waterskin and for watering my horse and my camels; and I would therefore not advise a future traveller to go to a neighbouring village, which bears the name of “Kuka maífurá,” in the belief that he may find there plenty of cheap furá or ghussub-water.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, March 12th.]

Our encampment was busy from the very first dawn of day, and exhibited strong proof of industry on the part of the natives; for even at this hour women were offering ready-cooked pudding as a luncheon to the travellers. Some of our fellow-sleepers on this camping-ground started early; and the two Welád Slimán also, who led the string of camels, started off most imprudently in the twilight. As for us, we waited till everything was clearly discernible, and then took the opposite direction through underwood; and we had advanced but a short distance when a man came running after us, bringing us the exciting news that a party of Tawárek had fallen upon the two Arabs, and after wounding the elder of them, who had made some resistance, had carried off all their camels but three. I expressed my surprise to my horseman that such a thing could happen on the territory of the governor of Kanó, and urged him to collect some people of the neighbouring villages, in order to rescue the property, which might have been easily done; but he was quite indifferent, and smiling in his self-conceit, and pulling his little straw hat on one side of his head, he went on before us.

Small villages belonging to the district of Zákara were on each side, the inhabitants indulging still in security and happiness; the following year they were plunged into an abyss of misery, Bokhári making a sudden inroad on a market-day, and carrying off as many as a thousand persons. I here had a proof of the great inconvenience which many parts of Negroland suffer with regard to water, for the well at which we watered our horses this morning measured no less than three and thirty fathoms; but I afterwards found that this is a very common thing as well in Bórnu as in Bagírmi, while in other regions I shall have to mention wells as much as sixty fathoms deep. Beyond this spot we met a very numerous caravan with natron, coming from Kúkawa; and I therefore eagerly inquired the news of that place from the horsemen who accompanied it. All was well; but they had not heard either of the arrival or of the approach of a Christian. This natron, which is obtained in the neighbourhood of the Tsád, was all in large pieces like stone, and is carried in nets, while that coming from Múniyo consists entirely of rubble, and is conveyed in bags, or a sort of basket. The former is called “kílbu tsaráfu,” while the name of the latter is “kílbu bóktor.” We soon saw other troops laden with this latter article; and there were even several mules among the beasts of burden. The commerce of this article is very important; and I counted to-day more than five hundred loads of natron that we met on our road.

I then went on in advance with “Mr. Sleep,” and soon reached the village Dóka, which by the Arabs travelling in Negroland is called, in semi- barbarous Arabic, “Súk el karága,” karága being a Bórnu word meaning wilderness. The village belongs to the Ghaladíma. Here we sat tranquilly down near the market-place, in the shade of some beautiful tamarind- trees, and indulged in the luxuries which my gentleman-like companion could afford. I was astonished as well as ashamed at the comfort which my African friend displayed, ordering one of the female attendants of his sirríya to bring into his presence a basket which seemed to be under the special protection of the latter, and drawing forth from it a variety of well-baked pastry, which he spread on a napkin before us, while another of the attendants was boiling the coffee. The barbarian and the civilized European seemed to have changed places; and in order to contribute something to our repast, I went to the market and bought a couple of young onions. Really it is incredible what a European traveller in these countries has to endure; for while he must bear infinitely more fatigue, anxiety, and mental exertion than any native traveller, he is deprived of even the little comfort which the country affords—has no one to cook his supper, and to take care of him when he falls sick, or to shampoo him;

“And, ah! no wife or mother’s care

For him the milk or corn prepare.”

Leaving my companion to indulge in the “kief” of the Osmánli, of which he possessed a great deal, I preferred roving about. I observed that during the rainy season a great deal of water must collect here, which probably explains the luxurious vegetation and the splendid foliage of the trees hereabouts; and I was confirmed in my observation by my companion, who had travelled through this district during the rainy season, and was strongly impressed with the difficulties arising from the water, which covers a great part of the surface.

Having allowed our people, who by this time had come up, to have a considerable start in advance of us, we followed at length, entering underwood, from which we did not emerge till we arrived near Gérki. According to instructions received from us, our people had already chosen the camping-ground on the north-west side of the town; but my horseman, who had gone in advance with them, thought it first necessary to conduct me into the presence of the governor, or rather of one of the five governors who rule over this place, each of them thinking himself more important than his colleague. The one to whom he presented me was, however, a very unprepossessing man, and not the same who on my return from the west in 1854 treated me with extraordinary respect. Yet he did not behave inhospitably to me; for he sent me a sheep (not very fat indeed), with some corn and fresh milk. Milk during the whole of my journey formed my greatest luxury; but I would advise any African traveller to be particularly careful with this article, which is capable of destroying a weak stomach entirely; and he would do better to make it a rule always to mix it with a little water, or to have it boiled.

The town of Gérki is a considerable place, and under a strong government would form a most important frontier-town. As it is, it may probably contain about fifteen thousand inhabitants; but they are notorious for their thievish propensities, and the wild state of the country around bears ample testimony to their want of industry. The market, which is held here before the S.W. gate, is of the most indifferent description. The wall with its pinnacles is in very good repair. In order to keep the thievish disposition of the natives in check, I fired some shots late in the evening; and we slept undisturbed. On my return-journey, however, in 1854, when I was quite alone with my party, I was less fortunate, a most enterprising thief returning thrice to his task, and carrying away, one after the other, first the tobe, then the trowsers, and finally the cap from one of my people.

[Sidenote: Thursday, March 13th.]

Not waiting for the new horseman whom I was to receive here early in the morning, I went on in advance with my companion, in order to reach Gúmmel before the heat of the day; and we soon met in the forest a string of twelve camels, all laden with kurdí or shells, and belonging to the rich Arab merchant Bú-héma, who resides in Múniyo, and carries on a considerable commerce between Kanó and Kúkawa. I will here mention, that in general 100,000 kurdí are regarded as a camel-load; fine animals, however, like these will carry as much as a hundred and fifty thousand, that is, just sixty dollars or twelve pounds’ worth. It is easy to be understood that, where the standard coin is of so unwieldy a nature, the commerce of the country cannot be of great value.

About two miles before we reached the frontier-town of the Bórnu empire in this direction, we were joined by the horseman of the governor of Gérki; and we here took leave of Háusa with its fine and beautiful country, and its cheerful and industrious population. It is remarkable what a difference there is between the character of the ba-Háushe and the Kanúri—the former lively, spirited, and cheerful, the latter melancholic, dejected and brutal; and the same difference is visible in their physiognomies—the former having in general very pleasant and regular features, and more graceful forms, while the Kanúri, with his broad face, his wide nostrils, and his large bones, makes a far less agreeable impression, especially the women, who are very plain and certainly among the ugliest in all Negroland, notwithstanding their coquetry, in which they do not yield at all to the Háusa women.

Birmenáwa is a very small town, but strongly fortified with an earthen wall and two deep ditches, one inside and the other outside, and only one gate on the west side. Around it there is a good deal of cultivation, while the interior is tolerably well inhabited. Konché, who was in a great hurry to reach Gúmmel, would have preferred going on directly without entering the town; but as I was obliged to visit it in order to change my horseman, it being of some importance to me to arrive in Gúmmel with an escort, he accompanied me. The population consists of mixed Háusa and Kanúri elements.

Having obtained another man, we continued our march through a country partly under cultivation, partly covered with underwood, and were pleased, near the village Tókun, to find the Háusa custom of a little market held by the women on the roadside still prevailing; but this was the last scene of the kind I was to see for a long time. We reached the considerable town of Gúmmel just when the sun began to shine with great power; and at the gate we separated, the sheríf taking his way directly towards his quarters in the southern part of the town, while I was obliged to go first to the house of the governor, the famous Dan-Tanóma (the son of Tanóma, his own name being entirely unknown to the people); but on account of his great age, neither on this nor on a later occasion did I get a sight of him. Indeed he was soon to leave this world, and by his death to plunge not only the town wherein he resided, but the whole neighbouring country, into a destructive civil war between his two sons.

However, on my first visit Gúmmel was still a flourishing place, and well inhabited, and I had to pass through an intricate labyrinth of narrow streets enclosed between fences of mats and reeds surrounding huts and courtyards, before I reached the dwellings of the few Arabs who live here; and after looking about for some time I obtained quarters near the house of Sálem Maidúkia (the Rothschild of Gúmmel), where my Morocco friend was lodged. But my lodgings required building in the first instance, as they consisted of nothing but a courtyard, the fence of which was in a state of utter decay, and a hut entirely fallen in, so that there was not the least shelter from the sun, whereas I had to wait here two days at least for my new friend, whose company I was not inclined to forego, without very strong reasons, on my journey to Kúkawa.

However building is not so difficult in Negroland as it is in Europe; and a most comfortable dwelling, though rather light, and liable to catch fire, may be erected in a few hours; even a roof is very sufficiently made, at least such as is here wanted during the dry season, with those thick mats, made of reed, called “síggedi” in Bórnu. But most fortunately Sálem had a conical roof just ready, which would have afforded satisfactory shelter even from the heaviest rain. I therefore sent immediately my whole remaining supply of kurdí to the market to buy those mats and sticks; and getting four men practised in this sort of workmanship, I immediately set to work, and, long before my camels arrived, had a well-fenced private courtyard, and a splendid cool shade, while my tent served as a store for my luggage, and as a bedroom for myself.

Having, therefore, made myself comfortable, I was quite prepared to indulge in the luxurious luncheon sent me by the maidúkia, consisting of a well-cooked paste of Negro millet with sourmilk, after which I received visits from the few Arabs residing here, and was pleased to find one among them who had been Clapperton’s servant, and was well acquainted with the whole proceedings of the first expedition. He had been travelling about a good deal, and was able, with the assistance of a companion of his, to give me a tolerably complete itinerary of the route from Sókoto to Gónja, the gúro-country and the northern province of Asianti. These Arabs necessarily lead here a very miserable sort of existence; Sálem, however, a native of Sókna, has succeeded in amassing a considerable fortune for these regions, and is therefore called by the natives maidúkia. He had a freed slave of the name of Mohammed Abbeakúta, who, though not at all an amiable man, and rather self- conceited, nevertheless gave me some interesting information. Among other things, he gave me a very curious list of native names of the months[42], which are not, however, those used by the Háusáwa, nor, I think, by the Yórubáwa, he having been evidently a native of Yóruba. He also gave me the following receipt for an antidote in the case of a person being wounded by poisoned arrows: a very young chicken is boiled with the fruits of the chamsínda, the áddwa (_Balanites_), and the tamarind-tree; and the bitter decoction so obtained, which is carried in a small leathern bag ready for use, is drunk immediately after receiving the poisonous wound, when, as he affirmed, the effect of the poison is counteracted by the medicine. The chicken would seem to have very little effect in the composition, but may be added as a charm.

The next morning I went with ʿAbd el Khafíf to pay our compliments to old Dan-Tanóma. His residence, surrounded by high clay walls, and including, besides numbers of huts for his household and numerous wives, some spacious halls of clay, was of considerable extent; and the courtyard, shaded by a wide-spreading, luxuriant tamarind tree, was a very noble area. While we sat there awaiting the governor’s pleasure, I had a fair insight into the concerns of this little court, all the well- fed, idle parasites coming in one after the other, and rivalling each other in trivial jokes. The Háusa language is the language of the court; and the offices are similar to those which I mentioned above with regard to Kanó. Having waited a long time in vain, the weak old man sending an excuse, as he could not grant us an interview, we returned to our quarters.

To-day being Friday was market-day; and in order to see the market in its greatest activity I mounted at noon on horseback, and went out. In all these parts of Negroland, the customs of which are in every respect so different from those of Yóruba and the neighbouring countries, the market (in Kúkawa and Maseña as well as in Kanó, Sókoto, and even Timbúktu) is always most frequented and most busy in the hottest hours of the day, notwithstanding the great fatigue which all the people, and particularly the strangers, have to undergo.

The market of Gúmmel is held outside the town, between the two gates on the west side, but nearer to the “chínna-n-yalá”[43] (the northern gate), which is remarkable on account of its well-fortified condition.

Though I had heard a good deal about Gúmmel, I was nevertheless surprised at the size and the activity of the market, although that held on Saturday is said to be still more important. Gúmmel is the chief market for the very extensive trade in natron, which, as I have mentioned above, is carried on between Kúkawa and Múniyo on one side, and Núpe or Nýffi on the other; for this trade passes from one hand into another, and the Bórnu people very rarely carry this merchandise further than Gúmmel. Large masses of natron, certainly amounting to at least one thousand loads of both qualities mentioned above, were offered here for sale—the full bullock’s load of the better quality for five thousand, an ass’s load of the inferior sort for five hundred kurdí. There were also about three hundred stalls or sheds, but not arranged in regular rows, where a great variety of objects were offered for sale,—all sorts of clothing, tools, earthenware pots, all kinds of victuals, cattle, sheep, donkeys, horses—in short, everything of home or foreign produce which is in request among the natives.

The Arabs have their place under a wide-spreading fig-tree, where I was greatly pleased to make the acquaintance of a very intelligent man called ʿAzi Mohammed Moníya, who gave me some valuable information, particularly with regard to the route from Kanó to Tóto, and that from Sókoto to Gónja. He also gave me the first accurate description of the immense town Alóri, or Ilóri, the great centre of the conquering Fúlbe in Yóruba, which I shall have frequent opportunity of mentioning in the course of my proceedings. This man, who was really very intelligent, had travelled a great deal, and had made a long stay in Stambúl, assured me that Alóri was, without the least doubt, larger than the latter city. Yet this immense town, of which the first accounts are due, I think, to Capt. Clapperton, is sought for in vain in many of our most recent maps.

Greatly delighted with my visit to the market, though not a little affected by the exposure to the sun during the hot hours, I returned to my quarters; for though a practised traveller will bear very well the most scorching power of the sun, if he sets out in the morning, and by degrees becomes inured to greater and greater heat, he may suffer fatally from exposing himself for a long time to the mid-day sun, after having spent the morning in the shade. Later in the afternoon, the governor sent, as a gift to me and ʿAbd el Khafíf, through his principal courtiers (such as the ghaladíma, the chiróma, and others, who were accompanied by a long train of followers), a young bullock, they being instructed at the same time to receive in return the present, or “salám,” as it is generally called, which we had prepared for him. I gave them a subéta and a small flask with rose oil, which is an article in great request with the fashionable world in Háusa and Bórnu. In the evening, we received also corn for our horses.

[Sidenote: Saturday, March 15th.]

This was a most fortunate and lucky day for me; for suddenly, when I least expected it, I was visited by an Arab from Sókna, of the name of Mohammed el Mughárbi, who had just arrived with a little caravan of Swákena from Múrzuk, and brought me a considerable number of letters from friends in Tripoli, England, and Germany, after my having been deprived of news from them for ten months. The letters gave me great delight; but besides the letters there was something with them which touched me more sensibly, by the providential way in which it supplied my most urgent wants.

I was extremely short of cash, and having spent almost my whole supply of shells in fitting up my quarters, paying my guides, and discharging Makhmúd, who had proved quite unfit for service, I had very little left wherewith to provide for our wants on our long journey to Kúkawa. How surprised and delighted was I, then, on opening Mr. Gagliuffi’s letter, at the unexpected appearance of two Spanish dollars, which he forwarded to me in order to make good an error in my account with him. Two Spanish dollars! it was the only current money I had at that time; and they were certainly more valuable to me than so many hundreds of pounds at other times. However, the rascal who brought me the letters had also merchandise on the account of the mission, to the value of one hundred pounds; but, either because he wished to deliver it to the director himself, or in order to obtain also the hire stipulated for him if he should be obliged to carry the merchandise on to Kúkawa, he declared that the things had gone on in advance to Kanó,—an evident falsehood, which eventually caused us much unnecessary expense, and brought Mr. Overweg and myself into the greatest distress; for I did not, in fact, receive this merchandise till after my return from Adamáwa—having subsisted all the time upon “air and debts.”

This and the following day I was busy answering my letters, and I will only mention here that from this place I intimated to one of my friends,—Mr. Richard Lepsius, of Berlin,—my foreboding that it might be my destiny, after trying in vain to penetrate to any great distance in a south-eastern direction, to turn my steps westwards, and to fill up my researches into the regions about Timbúktu by my personal experience. Having finished my parcel of letters, I gave it to the Mughárbi to take with him to Kanó, and entrust it to the care of one of my Tinýlkum friends, who would soon forward it to Múrzuk.

Having been thus freshly imbued with the restless impulse of European civilization, and strengthened with the assurance that highly respected persons at such a distance took a deep interest in the results of our proceedings, I resolved not to linger a moment longer in this place, but rather to forego the company of my amiable friend, particularly as I knew that he was going to Múniyo, and therefore, after a few days’ march, would at all events separate from me. And I did well; for my friend did not reach Kúkawa before the middle of May, that is, six weeks after me. Such are the Arabs, and woe to him who relies upon them! The same thing happened to me on my successful return from Bórnu to the coast in 1855. Every body assured me that the caravan was to leave immediately: but I went on alone in May, and reached Tripoli in August, while the caravan did not reach Múrzuk before March, 1856.

I therefore sent to Dan-Tanóma, begging him to furnish me with a horseman who would escort me to Máshena, and he assented. It was a hazardous and troublesome undertaking: I had only one servant, faithful, but young, and who had never before travelled this road; besides a little boy, delicate in body and unsteady in mind, and I was sure that I myself should have to do half the work, as well in loading and unloading the camels as in pitching the tent, and looking after everything.

[Sidenote: Monday, March 17th.]

Having taken a hearty leave of ʿAbd el Khafíf, I followed my camels and—my good luck. This was the first time on my journey that I travelled quite alone, and I felt very happy, though, of course, I should have been glad to have had one or two good servants.

The country on the east side of Gúmmel, at least at this time of the year, presented a very dull and melancholy appearance, and the most decided contrast to that cheerful and splendid scenery which is peculiar to the landscape round Kanó. Nevertheless, it seemed to be well inhabited, and we passed several places, some of them of tolerable size, and surrounded with earthen walls, of very inconsiderable elevation, and ditches; the courtyards, especially in the first town which we passed, the name of which is Kadángaré, “the lizard” in Háusa, were wide and spacious. A little later in the season the drought must be terribly felt in these quarters; for even at present we had great difficulty in watering our horses and filling a waterskin. Trees of good size became continually more scarce, but the country was still well inhabited, and after ten o’clock, near the little town Gósuwa, surrounded likewise by a low earthen wall, we reached a small market-place, consisting of about thirty stalls, where a market is held every Sunday; the town, however, was not thickly inhabited, and near its north-east corner especially there were large empty spaces.