Chapter XXXVIII: Rainy Season in Kúkawa (9)

This was the only time I observed this species of antelope during my travels in Negroland. Great numbers of Guinea fowl, such I had never observed before, enlivened the underwood further on, the ground consisting of a hard soil called by the natives kabé, and covered with only a scanty growth of stunted mimosas. I was much interested in observing here the red species of Negro corn, which seems not to be cultivated by the more civilized tribes of Negroland, but which forms the principal food of the pagan races towards the south. Having passed a Shúwa hamlet—berí Shúwabe,—the country became more diversified. A considerable pond, at present dry, and bordered by beautiful trees, spread out on our left, while our right was bordered by the ruins of a large town called Sú, a name which seems to be a remnant of the ancient tribe of the Só or Soy, which formerly ruled over the whole of this region as far as Kála. A poor old woman, incapacitated by age from reaching the market-town, was sitting in front of the ruined wall, offering to the passers-by the little cotton which she had been able to clean. The country is at present in such a state, principally owing to the turbulent spirit of the Shúwa Arabs, that even this road is regarded as unsafe; and we were therefore obliged to keep together, several inhabitants of Logón having attached themselves to my little caravan. The road divides here, the more considerable path leading to the town of Kúsuri, and the smaller southern one, which we followed, leading to Logón bírni, or Kárnak Lógone.

We passed two villages called Debábe Gezáwa and Debábe Ngáya, but the latter of which still bears the very remarkable name of Krénik, and is stated by the inhabitants of the neighbourhood to have been the capital, or one of the capitals, of the once powerful tribe of the Soy. The exact period when this town was destroyed I could not ascertain; but probably it happened during the reign of the great Kanúri king Edrís Alawóma, about the beginning of the seventeenth century. More recently this neighbourhood was saturated with the blood of numbers of Bórnu people, in the sanguinary struggle with their neighbours, the Bagírmi or Bágrimma; and it was in one of these conflicts, near the walled town of Míltam, about forty years ago (A.H. 1232), that the sheikh Mohammed el Kánemí lost his eldest and most-beloved son.

Having watered our animals at a shallow stream, spreading out in the meadow-ground, we continued our march, and about half an hour before noon had to cross a very difficult swamp, with boggy ground, where several of our people stuck fast. The whole of this region is subject to partial inundations; but it seems very remarkable that they do not attain their greatest height in, or at the end of, the rainy season, but several months later; and I found afterwards, when I traversed this country again towards the end of August, in the very height of the rainy season, that not only this but the other swamps were considerably lower than they were in March. This circumstance depends on the peculiar nature of the Tsád, which reaches its highest level in November, when all the waters carried down by the several rivers and torrents have spread over the whole surface of the lagoon, while the loss from evaporation is then much less than during the hot months.

Continuing through a very thick forest full of herds of wild hogs, which seem greatly to delight in these low, swampy, and densely overgrown grounds on either side of the (river) Shárí, and having passed another swamp, and the forest at length clearing, we obtained a sight of the high clay walls of the town of Kála, starting forth from a beautiful grove of fig-trees, and overtowered by a very lofty, but slightly inclined solitary palm-tree.

[Footnote 23: Ébn Khaldún, texte Arabe, vol. i. p. 200.; trad. S. Macguckin de Slane, vol. ii. p. 116.]

[Footnote 24: Makrízi, in Hamaker, Spec. Catal. p. 206., كاتكوا.]

[Footnote 25: I repeat here what I have stated, I think, in another place, that in my opinion the Yédiná are meant by Makrízi’s اتعنا.]

CHAP. XLVII.

PROVINCE OF LOGÓN. — LOGÓN BÍRNI.

Kála is the first town of the territory of Logón or Lógone, the boundary of which we had crossed a short time before. Having entered the town through an extremely narrow gate, which scarcely allowed my bare and slender she-camel to pass through, after having taken from her back the whole load, I was struck with the very different aspect it exhibited from the regions we had just left; for while the dwellings testified to a certain degree of civilization, the inhabitants themselves seemed to approach nearer to the pagans than to the Mohammedans. We had scarcely entered the town when we were surrounded by a troop of boys and young lads from seven to twelve years of age, tall and well built, and in a state of entire nudity, a thing hardly ever seen in the country of Bórnu, even with slaves. The type of their features, however, was very different from the general type observed in the Bórnu people, and seemed to indicate more intelligence and cunning. I have already observed, in the country of Músgu, how the state of the dwellings contrasts with the apparel, or rather the want of apparel, of the people themselves; but here it seemed more remarkable, for the dwellings in general did not consist of round conical huts, but of spacious oblong houses of clay, of considerable elevation. I was quartered in one of these structures, but found it rather close, and full of dust.

The town presented an appearance of the utmost decay, only a few dwellings remaining in the centre of it; and the only remarkable objects were two palm-trees, one of which I had already observed from without: and I now assured myself that they were not date-trees, but belonged to the fan-shaped group of palms. But they were not bifurcated, and seemed not to belong to the _Cucifera Thebaïca_, nor were they identical with the deléb-palm. At any rate they were the tallest specimens which I ever remember to have seen of the fan-shaped tribe, their height appearing more extraordinary on account of the small tuft of leaves, which was confined to the very top. The town itself presenting no very interesting features, I went out in the afternoon, and lay down for an hour or two, in the shade of one of those beautiful fig-trees which, fed by a large and deep swamp, surround the town on all sides; but, the more pleasant was my day’s repose, the more disagreeable was my night’s rest, for, owing to these stagnant pools, the town is full of mosquitoes, and neither I myself nor any of my companions were able to get any sleep the whole of the ensuing night.

We therefore rose very early in the following morning, long before day- break, and at four o’clock had already left the gate of the town behind us. There is still a great deal of cultivation of cotton to be seen, even in the present state of decay to which this province is reduced; but an immense deal more might be cultivated. Then followed fields of sorghum; and further on, the lowing of cattle and the cackling of hens indicated the presence of a Shúwa village at some distance on our left. Cultivated ground and forest alternately succeeded each other, the wild hog being seen in every direction, while numerous villages were lying about here and there, but at present all deserted, the inhabitants, who belong to the Shúwa, migrating during the dry season towards a large shallow watercourse in the south-west, where they find fresher pasture- grounds for their cattle. This watercourse or ngáljam is famous under several names, being called Bawísh, Madéf, and Burbéde. We then passed on our left the town Úlluf, Húlluf, or Hélib, surrounded by a high clay wall, and almost hidden behind wide-spreading fig-trees, just as is the case with Kála. This town, the name of which is pronounced “Elf” by the Arabs, and of the origin of which they give very absurd accounts, is ill-famed for the presumed witchcraft and sorcery of its inhabitants; and this was the only reason which prevented my companions from staying here during the heat of the day.

We therefore continued our march; and, having passed another swamp, entered a well-cultivated district, where a great deal of sorghum was grown. I was however surprised at seeing the stacks of grain, or, as they are called in Kanúri, bágga argúmbe, still standing in the fields.

We encamped a little beyond the temporary village of Sheikh el Khasés, close to an extensive sheet of water, under the shade of a beautiful tamarind-tree. This piece of water, as the people assured me, only dries up annually for a short time, when the rainy season again fills it. All these native Arabs, as I have already had occasion to remark, are very inhospitable; and the people here, where we had encamped, did not offer us any refreshment. However I succeeded in buying from them a little honey, for a few needles.

When we started again in the afternoon, we had great difficulty in avoiding the swamps. The country at times was well cultivated, producing, besides sorghum, a quantity of beans of the speckled kind; but I was not a little astonished to see, in the midst of the stubble- fields, young crops of that variety of sorghum called “másakuwá.” This is a very rare sight in these countries in the month of March, as in general this winter corn is got in during December or January. We then entered a forest, and, following a winding path, reached the rather considerable village Múnke, which belongs to Logón, but is inhabited chiefly by Kanúri. Here I pitched my tent in the market-place, and was not a little pestered by numbers of inquisitive people.

[Sidenote: Saturday, March 13th.]

The country through which we passed as we drew nearer the capital of Logón, was of a rich and fertile character, but insufficiently cultivated. Besides grain, there was a great deal of cotton; and numbers of trees of various species gave it a charming appearance, the beautifully rich foliage of several of them relieving entirely the monotony which is usual in these Central African forests. Amongst the underwood the dúm-bush was predominant; gradually, however, the “harás” or “karáge” tree began to prevail. The pods of this tree, which contain the seeds, are not only much liked by camels, but also by monkeys and hogs, both of which seemed to be very numerous, and lived together in the greatest harmony. Numerous holes of the earth-hog (_Orycteropus Æthiopiensis_) were likewise to be seen.

We met a number of native travellers and people going to market, who saluted us in a cheerful manner, and bore testimony to the fact that we were drawing near a larger place; and the neighbourhood of the town was still further indicated by women who had come out to gather wood for the supply of the market. Here I was agreeably surprised to see again my noble old acquaintance of the Músgu country, the deléb-palm or “uray.” At first a single specimen appeared towering with its proud fanlike foliage over the numerous karáge-trees that still continued to retain their predominant position in the vegetable kingdom; but when the clayey soil gave way to sand, a large group met the eye, in close array, and full of fruit. It was, however, entirely limited to this locality, and I did not meet another specimen between this place and the town.

When we arrived in sight of the wall, my horseman changed his dress, and put on a new glittering black Núpe tobe, in order to make his entrance with greater _éclat_, while I was not a little pleased to meet again here some travelling companions of mine, in whose company I had crossed the Bénuwé on my journey to Ádamáwa, and who were once more on their way to the east. We then entered the capital of Logón—Logón Bírni, or Kárnak Lóggon, as it is called by the Shúwa, or Kárnak Lógone or Lóggene, as it is called by the Kanúri. The town on this side (the north-western) has only one gate; and it was so narrow that we were obliged to unload the camel before we were able to pass through. The energy and activity of this place is naturally concentrated on the eastern side towards the river, where it has seven gates.

The interior of the town, where we entered it, had not a very animated appearance. The cottages, belonging evidently to the poorer classes of people, are in a wretched condition; and the only animation which the scenery presented was due to a group of dúm-palms, towering over this poor quarter from the north side. The character of the place improved, however, as we advanced; the streets were tolerably large, and I was struck with the appearance of the principal street, or déndal, which is formed by the palace of the sultan or míyará, towards the south, and the house of the Keghámma or Ibálaghwán, towards the north.

The entrance to the palace of the sultan—the “raána míyará” in the kélakú Logón or language of Logón,—is towards the east, where there is an open square, shaded by a few trees; here I was obliged to wait a long time on horseback, while my quarters were getting ready, for etiquette did not allow me to dismount. The sun was very powerful, and my situation not exactly pleasant; but it afforded me some amusement to observe the flights of falcons and other birds, who were nestling in the top of a group of tall dúm-palms which towered above the walls of the mosque opposite the palace.

I had also the pleasure of recognizing an old friend of Major Denham’s, namely, Belál, the man who accompanied him as well on his expedition to the Shárí as to Kánem. This man, whose real name was Mʿadi, and who was an extremely amiable and good-humoured personage, with a disposition akin to the character of Europeans, continued my friend during the remainder of my stay in Bórnu. His errand here at present was to collect the annual tribute which the ruler of the country of Logón has to pay to the sheikh of Bórnu.

The quarters assigned to me were situated in the upper story of the palace of the Ibálaghwán, which surprised me not a little by the superior and even grand style of its architecture. This very spacious palace consists of a number of wings inclosing small quadrangular courtyards, and having an upper story of extensive apartments. The only part which did not correspond with the magnificence of the rest of the building, was the staircase, which was rather dark and inconvenient. My own apartment was not less than thirty-five feet long, by fifteen wide, and as many high, and received sufficient light from two semicircular windows, which, of course, had no glass, but could be closed by means of a shutter of reed. The ceiling was gable-shaped—rather a remarkable phenomenon in these countries; it was filled out with thatchwork.

But not only were my quarters excellent, but the treatment I received also was hospitable in the extreme; for I had scarcely taken possession of my lodgings when a bowl of very excellent pudding made its appearance. The thievish propensities of the people of Logón are very remarkable; and the first intimation which I received of it was an official caution given to me to beware of the slaves of my house.

Having recruited my strength a little, I went with Kashélla Mʿadi to pay my compliments to the Ibálaghwán or Keghámma. We found him in the apartment marked _a_ in the ground-plan. At first he was invisible, sitting behind his matting curtain, “parpar” or “farfar,” which the Háusa people, in humorous mood, call by the name of “munáfekí” (the sinner), and which is made of a fine species of reed-grass; but he soon allowed me to approach him. He was a tall, elderly man, of a cheerful disposition, and smiling countenance, with nothing in his behaviour to intimate that he was not a free-born man; and certainly his position was an eminent one, as he was the second person in this little kingdom, and held an office corresponding to that of a prime minister or vizier. His name is Herdége. Having made him a small present for himself, which was rather insignificant, but which, as it consisted of a quantity of articles, seemed to satisfy him, I showed him the present I intended to make to his master. Poor as I was at the time, and destitute of means, I had determined to give away my Turkish trowsers, of very fine brown cloth, which I had scarcely ever worn, in order to pave my way in advance; for besides this article I had only some small trifles to give, such as shawls, knives, scissors, frankincense, and a few spices. The keghámma having approved of my present, I immediately went with Mʿadi Belál to pay my respects to the sultan, or rather Míyará himself.

The palace of the sultan is a very extensive building surrounded by a wall fourteen feet in height, and corresponding to the height of the house of the keghámma.

The public part of the building consists of very large courtyards, separated from each other by covered apartments. In the first courtyard, marked _a_ on the ground-plan, in a sort of shed, the eunuchs (or, as the people of Logón say, the “bille-melágem”) were assembled. I was not a little surprised to find here two cannons of iron, certainly of not very good workmanship, and very old, but furnished with frames. Having waited here some time, till my arrival was announced, I proceeded to another antechamber, marked _b_, the whole of the building looking very neat and orderly. The courtyard probably measured not less than one hundred feet in length, by about thirty feet in width. Having then traversed another antechamber and courtyard of about the same dimensions, we reached the public court of audience, furnished with a raised platform, on which stood the royal throne,—a rough kind of seat covered with a baldachin of planks, and painted red. The sultan however, at present, was not here, but was sitting in his private room _e_, behind a matting curtain; and I was desired to address him without seeing him. I therefore paid him my compliments, addressing Kashélla Mʿadi in Kanúri, and he interpreting what I said into the language of the country. I begged to inform the Míyará that the sultan Inglíz, who, during the reign of the former chief of Logón (the míyará Sále), had sent Khalílu (Major Denham), had now instructed me to pay my respects to him. He was greatly delighted at this compliment, and inquired repeatedly after the health of the sultan of the nasára Inglíz. Having made use of the opportunity afforded by the matting of observing me without being himself observed, and seeing that I was something like a human being, and evidently of an innoxious kind, and the present having been carried into his presence, he called me inside his room, saluted me in a very friendly manner, and shook hands with me. He then begged me to explain to him the presents, taking extreme delight in the articles of English manufacture, including even the large darning needles; for, small and insignificant as these articles were, he had never seen their like. He even counted the needles one by one, and assigned them their respective owners in the harím. The principal favour which I had to beg of him was to allow me to navigate the river to some distance; and having granted my request, he dismissed me very graciously.

On the next page are ground-plans of the houses of the sultan and keghámma.

A. HOUSE OF SULTAN.—_a._ Great Courtyard. _b._ Second Courtyard, about 100 feet long by 30 wide. _c._ Third Courtyard. _d._ Inner Courtyard, with shed and throne. _e._ Room of Sultan. _f._ Stabling.

B. HOUSE OF KEGHÁMMA.—1. Large Court. 2. Staircase leading to the upper apartments. 3. Courtyard. 4. Second Courtyard. 5. Room of Keghámma, with two couches, that in the background being raised above the floor.

6. Shed built of mats and poles in front of the palace.

7. Caoutchouc-tree.

8. Mosque or “Dabáldemá,” shaded by some fan-palms, or as the people of Logón say, “gurúru.”]

Yúsuf, or, as the people of Logón say, Ýsuf (this is the name of the present sultan), is a tall, stout, and well-built man, apparently about forty years of age, with large features and a rather melancholy expression of countenance, which I attribute to his peculiar and precarious political situation, being the ruler of a small kingdom placed between two predominant neighbours, who harass him incessantly. He has been sultan about nineteen years, and was a young man at the time of Denham’s visit, when his father Sále and his elder brother ʿAbd el Kerím shared or rather disputed the government with each other. He had two more elder brothers of the names of Chiróma and Marúfi, both of whom died before him. Just at or shortly before the beginning of his reign, as it would seem, owing to an expedition into the country by Dáúd, one of the war-slaves of the sheikh Mohammed el Kánemí, Logón became a tributary province of Bórnu, being subjected to an annual tribute of one hundred slaves, and the same number of shirts or tobes. Previous to that time, the ruler of this little country is said to have made an annual present of only two slaves.

Our treatment was hospitable in the extreme; and it seemed almost as if our host had a mind to kill us with excess of kindness, for in the evening he sent us four enormous bowls of well-prepared pudding of sorghum, together with meat and broth, and early the next morning a large bowl of gruel seasoned with honey, and a few moments afterwards three or four bowls of hasty-pudding. Fortunately there were people enough to consume this plenteous supply of food; for there was a large party of Bagírmi people returning to their country from Kúkawa, and to them I gave up these luxuries, but afterwards they repaid my kindness with ingratitude. Being desirous of having a look at the town, I sallied forth in the afternoon with a well-mounted trooper, who was attached to my friend Kashélla Mʿadi, by the western gate, and then turning round towards the east, proceeded in the direction of the river.

At this corner the river bends away from the wall to the distance of about an English mile, being from 350 to 400 yards across; the western shore was low at this point, but on the opposite side it rose to the height of from 12 to 15 feet. It was enlivened by about 40 or 50 boats, most of them about 4 feet at the bottom, and 6 feet at the top, and remarkable for their formidable prows. All these boats are built in the same way as those of the Búdduma, with this exception, that the planks consist of stronger wood, mostly bírgim, and are generally of larger size, while those of the Búdduma consist of the frailest material, viz. the wood of the fógo. The joints of the planks are provided with holes through which ropes are passed, overlaid with bands of reed, and are tightly fastened upon them by smaller ropes, which are again passed through small holes stuffed with grass. Their elevated prow seems to indicate the shallowness of the water as well as the vehemence of the current which in certain seasons of the year sweeps down the river, and which I experienced on my return when it was full. At present, the water was rather shallow, and several sand banks were to be seen. My principal attention was attracted by the fishing boats, which were furnished with large nets suspended from the poop by two immensely long poles, called “the two hands,” “músko ndí,” by the Kanúri people, and “sémi” by the people of Logón.

We then continued along the shore, which becomes gradually more and more compressed between the wall and the river. Where the latter approaches nearest the wall there are corn-fields, which are continually irrigated from the river. The stalks of the corn at present were 1½ foot high. As I have observed in another place, wheat has only recently been introduced into Negroland, and wherever a little is grown it is only known by the Arabic name “el kámeh.” The generality of the inhabitants do not relish it, but it is esteemed a princely food. Of course, corn is also dearer where it does not grow spontaneously, the tropical rains being too powerful for the tender plant, so that it can only be grown in the dry or rather the cold season, near the rivers or swamps, by artificial irrigation.

Delighted with the view which the scenery of the river exhibited, we reached the most eastern gate on the south side of the town, when suddenly an old man with an imperious air forbade me to survey the river, and ordered me to retrace my steps directly. I was rather startled and confounded, as, having the permission of the sultan, I could not imagine who besides himself had such authority in the place, and could forbid me to do what he had allowed me; but my companion informed me that he was the king of the waters, the “maráleghá,” and that he had full command over the river or “lagham.” I had heard and read a great deal of the authority of the king of the waters, the “serkí-n-rúwa,” in the countries on the Niger, but I was not aware that a similar custom prevailed here. Confused, and rather ashamed, I re- entered the town through the next gate.

Close to this gate was the house of the Ghaladíma, or Malághwán; and I was induced to pay him a visit. He seemed to be rather an effeminate person, living in a dark and well-perfumed room. The visit was of no other interest than that it gave me some further insight into the ceremonial of the court of this little kingdom, the very existence of which was denied by so eminent a man as M. Fresnel a few years ago.[26]

The first thing I did on returning to my quarters was to expostulate with the keghámma on the authority exercised by his colleague, the king of the waters; and he promised me that the next day I should visit the river, and even navigate it, without the least hindrance. However, there was so much talk in the town about my surveying the stream, that I was obliged in the course of the afternoon to pay the vizier another visit. He was very anxious to know whether if once embarked in a boat upon the water I might not jump out in order to search for gold; when I told him I was rather afraid of the crocodiles. This expression of my fear contributed a great deal to alleviate his suspicions, for it seemed that until then he had supposed Europeans to be a sort of supernatural beings, and exempt from every kind of fear.

Our treatment was hospitable in the extreme,—so much so that two hundred persons might have feasted upon the dishes that were sent to me. But besides all these dishes of native food, my hospitable host sent for my own private consumption a large fat sheep, and an enormous jar of milk. This very splendid treatment, however, created a great deal of jealous and envious feeling in the breasts of those Bagírmi people whom I have before mentioned, although they themselves reaped the greatest benefit from the liberality of the sultan towards me. From what I observed, I think I may draw the conclusion that it is the general policy of the ruler of this little tributary kingdom to treat his guests well, and certainly it is a wise one; but I dare say I was especially favoured by the sultan.

[Sidenote: March 15th.]

With extreme delight I had cherished the plan of navigating the river, although, of course, from the very beginning I could not expect to achieve great things, for the means which were at my disposal at the time did not allow me to overcome any serious obstacles which might be thrown in my way; but besides this, the authority of this little prince of Logón extends only a short distance along the shores of the river.

At eight o’clock I was aboard of my little boat or “wöam.”[27] I thought that I should have got one of the largest size; but none was to be obtained. The boat, however, which was finally assigned to me, though measuring only twenty-five feet in length by about four feet in the middle, was tolerably strong, the planks of which it consisted being recently sewn and stuffed in the way above described; but, of course, this method of shipbuilding is far from rendering the vessel watertight. The boats being without seats, large bundles of reeds are placed at the bottom for the passengers to sit upon, with nothing to prevent them from being drenched with water.

While we crossed to the other side of the river, passing numerous sandbanks which at present had been laid bare, the town presented quite an interesting prospect, the wall being overtopped by dúm-palms, or “gurúru,” a pair of deléb-palms, “murgúm,” and an isolated date-tree, “díffino,”[28] these three species of palms growing together in this place in a very remarkable manner; for it is a rare thing to find them in one and the same spot.

The river, while skirting the town, forms a bend, and changes its course from a west-easterly to a northerly direction. While gliding along the eastern shore my companions called my attention to a species of very tall reed, which they call korókoró, but which is nothing else than the papyrus, which, as I have observed, grows on the shores of the Tsád, and which we shall find in several smaller lakes. But it was highly interesting to me to hear that the natives in this country prepare a peculiar sort of cloth or “gábagá” from it, which I think must be identical with the cloth mentioned by Arab writers under the name “wórzi” or “berdí,” being the Egyptian name for papyrus. However, I did not observe here several other species of the reed which grows on the Tsád, principally the bolé; and on inquiring for that beautiful variety from which the fine matting “kasár” or “farfar” is made, and for which the people of Logón are so celebrated, I was informed by my companions that it only grows near the large market-town Jínna, of which I shall have occasion to say something more further on. I was very anxious to know how the natives called this river, to which, by Major Denham, the name of Shárí or Sháry has been given, and I was confirmed in the opinion which I had previously formed, that this river is not the Shárí, but a small branch of it; Major Denham, during the short stay which he made here, not being able to ascertain that this river, which he saw at the town of Logón, was not the same as that which he saw at Kúsuri, but only a branch of it, and the smaller one. However, all the names given to rivers by the various tribes of Negroland have no other signification than that general one of “water,” “river,” from the western great “Bá,” of the Mandingoes by the Ísa of the Sónghay, Eghírrëu of the Imóshagh, “Máyo” of the Fúlbe, Gulbí of the Háusa, Kwára of the Yóruba, Bénuwé of the Bátta, Komádugu of the Kanúri, the eastern “Bá” of the Bagírmi, the Fittrí of the Kúka, the Bat-há of the Arabs of Wádáy. Thus the name “Shárí” also signifies nothing more than “the river,” that is to say, the river of the Kótokó, to whose language this word belongs, and the word “tsáde,” or rather “tsádhe,” seems nothing but a different pronunciation of this same name, the original form of which is probably “sáre” or “sághe.”

This smaller western branch of the Shárí the natives of Logón call “Lághame na Lógone,” that is to say, the river (“lágham”) of Logón; but higher up it has different names, according to the places which it passes by, being called by the Músgu people in their own language “Éré,” or “Arré,” a name which itself means nothing else but river; while in another place, where I reached it on my expedition to the Músgu country, it bears the peculiar name “Serbéwuël,” I do not know exactly for what reason. Meanwhile we were passing by the village Hónkel, which lies on the western side of the river, and which as I shall soon have occasion to observe, was of great importance in the former history of this country. The river changing its direction here, we again approached the western shore, and saw that at least half the inhabitants of the town had come out to see what the Christian was doing on the river; for they could scarcely imagine that I had embarked for any other purpose than to search for gold. In the midst of the crowd some horsemen in a very showy dress were observed, and I was informed that they were people from Ádishén the Músgu chief, just arrived with a message; and I soon observed that they were priding themselves on a dress which they had received from their oppressors, on the expedition in which I and Mr. Overweg accompanied the latter.

Seeing a crocodile raising its head just above the water close to the other side of the river, I could not resist firing at it, when the crowd burst out in loud cheers of acclamation. The servants of the sultan, however, who had accompanied me in the boat, had been for some time uneasy, and wished me to return; and on reaching a beautiful solitary deléb-palm, or “margúm,” as they are called by the people of Logón, I could no longer resist the pleadings of my companions to abstain from proceeding further. We had here an extensive view over the river, its principal direction being from south 20° east. All these large and splendid streams with which nature has endowed these regions are now scarcely of any use to the people living on their banks; and no traffic, except between the nearest places, is kept up.[29] A wide field for improvement is here open to the energy of man when these regions have been brought under the notice and the influence of Europe.

Turning our boat, we allowed it to go along with the current. The surface of the water was so smooth and pleasant, that I was tempted to take a bath, and there was a great shouting amongst the crowd on the shore when they saw the white man jump overboard; but their surprise was great when, after having splashed about for some time in the river, the current of which was too strong for my weakened frame, they saw me come out empty-handed, and they cried out that they had been cheated,—the people having told them that I was searching for gold. However, when I disembarked, the crowd of spectators was so immense, that my companions could only open me a passage with their whips; and I was really glad when I again reached the house of the Keghámma or Ibálaghwán.

This little excursion, however, cost me dear; for those people of Bagírmi whom I have mentioned before, the principal among whom was called Háj Áhmed, seeing me creating such an uproar, felt inclined to suppose that, if I should enter their own country in the absence of the ruler, I might create a disturbance in the kingdom. The prince of Logón, likewise, had formed far too high an idea of my capacity, and begged me most earnestly to stay some time with him, thinking that he might derive some profit by making himself more independent of his neighbours. Amongst other things, he wanted me to fire off those two guns which I have mentioned before; but their whole appearance inspired me with too little confidence to do so.

As it was, I had a great deal of trouble in persuading the sultan to allow me to pursue my journey eastward; but seeing that if I were to stay here a few days longer I should spend the little I had left, I was firm in my purpose of extending my discoveries beyond my predecessors, Major Denham having already succeeded in reaching this place, although he has only very insufficiently described it, and entirely failed in fixing its right position. I therefore proceeded to take leave of Míyará Ýsuf the next morning, when I found him in the courtyard numbered _f_ in the woodcut, which he seemed to use as stables. His whole stud, however, appeared to consist of only three or four horses of tolerable appearance. He himself was sitting on a raised platform of clay (segáge) dressed very simply, and wearing a red woollen shawl round his head. He was very kind and friendly, and begged me most urgently not to make a long stay in Bagírmi, but to return as soon as possible. Our conversation this time, as well as on the former occasion, was in Kanúri, which he understood perfectly well.

Logón is, it seems, not a national, but a political name, although I have not been able to make out its exact meaning.[30] The inhabitants belong to that great race of the Mása whom I have mentioned on a former occasion, being the brethren of the Músgu, and the kinsmen of the inhabitants of Mándará (the Ur-wándalá) and the Kótokó. Their political existence as people of Logón (or, as they call themselves, Lógodé Logón) is quite recent[31], and their Islám is of still more recent origin. Their country also, like that of the Músgu, was formerly split into a number of small principalities, the chief of Hónkel being the most powerful among them, till about a century and a half ago, when Bruwá, the predecessor of Míyará Mása, is said to have founded the town of Logón, and to have removed the seat of his principality to the present capital (“bírni,” or “kárnak”) of the country. But this ruler, as well as his immediate successors, was a pagan, and probably at that time there were only a few Mohammedans in the place; and Míyará Sále, the old prince whom Denham visited, the father of the present ruler Yúsuf, is said to have been the first among the petty princes of this country who were converted to Islám. Others assert that an older king, Mógha Jénna, was the first Moslim; and this is not at all improbable as the names of some of the kings who preceded Sále evidently show that the influence of Islamism, at least to outward appearance, was felt at a much earlier date.

With regard to the order of succession from Mása down to Sále, it seems that Mása was succeeded by a prince of the name of Úngo Aná-smadú, who was followed by Úngo Aná-logón, the prince to whom, possibly, the present name of the country Logón is to be referred; he was succeeded by Mógha ʿAlí, then followed Mógha Káder, and then the predecessor of Sále, namely, Má Sálikwá. Hence, at the very utmost the Mohammedan religion is not above sixty years old in this country; and many of the younger inhabitants of the place are well aware that their fathers were pagans by birth, and afterwards turned Mohammedans. Of course their Islám, even at present, is of a poor character; and the whole knowledge of religious matters which they possess, with the exception of a few elevated persons, consists of a few phrases which they learn by heart without understanding their meaning, and the practice of circumcision. In the country towns, however, even at present, most of the people are pagans.

The inhabitants of Logón fought repeatedly with their neighbours and kindred of Mándará, and seem to have been successful in that direction. They are also said to have once destroyed the town of Mélé, which lies on the eastern side of the river Shárí, and to have killed all the male inhabitants. The former sultans of Bórnu seem to have left the people of Logón in enjoyment of tolerable tranquillity, being content with a small tribute which they made them pay as a mark of subjection. But at present the tribute is considerable, considering the small extent of the country, and moreover the unfortunate petty prince of this small kingdom is compelled to pay another tribute to the sultan of Bagírmi, whose people harass him continually.

The name which the people of Logón give to their western neighbours is interesting, as its origin seems to go back into a remote age; for they call them Billangáre, or rather, “bílle Ngáre,” a name which was probably derived from Ngarú, the ancient capital of the Gháladí, or the western provinces of the Bórnu empire, which I have mentioned on a former occasion; “bílle” means people in general. As for their eastern neighbours, the Bagírmi people, they call them by the name of Mókkode, which might seem to have some connection with Makada, a name often applied to the country west of Abyssinia, and which I think is erroneously stated to mean Christian.

From the south-west the Fúlbe or Felláta press heavily upon them; and, as we have seen on the expedition to Músgu, the elderman in the village of Wáze, which belongs to the territory of Logón, is himself a Púllo or Felláta.

The people of Logón in former times seem to have made frequent inroads into the country of their neighbours and kinsmen the Músgu, in order to supply their want of slaves; but about eight years previous to my visit they seem to have suffered so severe a check in that quarter, as to make them desist from undertaking any further expeditions. Upon that occasion they lost their commander-in-chief, Keghámma or Ibálaghwán Yáhia[32], the same who built the really imposing palace where I was lodged. This commander undertook an expedition into the Músgu country, not, as usual, by land, but by water, and having gone on shore near a village called Gúmmel, was taken by surprise, and together with the most valiant of his companions, was slain by the natives of the country.

The government seems to be a limited monarchy, the sovereign being surrounded by a number of high functionaries, who form the divan or “tálubá,” identical with the nógoná of the Bórnu people. The first of these high functionaries is the Ibálaghwán, next follows the Málaghwán or Gháladíma, then the Mairáy, then the Madám, the Mará-leghá or king of the water, the Wulangháy or Chiróma (the claimant to the succession), the Maraymarbá, the Madamátiyá, the Madám ukhsám, the Intháwa, the Mághawén akhthám, the Másaghé akhthám, and the Mághalé-muté.

The territory of Logón is most advantageously situated near the point of junction of two considerable rivers; the river of Logón, the Lágham, or Éré towards the west, and the Shárí or Bá towards the east; and it might be a most happy little kingdom if it were not overwhelmed and oppressed by its more powerful neighbours, who, as we have just seen, encroach upon it on all sides. But while the Bórnu people levy a more regular tribute, the people of Bagírmi seem to treat the poor inhabitants of the districts nearest their borders with the greatest injustice, subjecting them, in a very anomalous manner, to all sorts of contributions. Nevertheless, from the list of the places which I shall subjoin in the Appendix[33], it will be seen that the country is still tolerably well inhabited, though certainly it cannot now be said to be in a very flourishing condition.

As for the food of the natives, fish (“kíyi”) in which the river is extremely rich, constitutes a great proportion of their live stock; but cattle (“nthá”) as well as sheep (“wúfu”) seem to be extremely rare, and it has the appearance as if their neighbours had deprived them entirely of this article of wealth and comfort. The native Arabs however are tolerably well supplied with both. Poultry also seems not to be very numerous; but the hog (“sése”) abounds in immense quantities, and seems to be often resorted to by the natives as an article of food. Besides sorghum or, as they call it, “mákalá,” and millet, “víyo” (the “fíyo” of the Kótokó and Yédiná—rice I did not observe), a great deal of cotton, “mpátakí,” is grown in the country; and weaving constitutes one of the principal employments of the people. Indeed their shirts (“labú”) are of very excellent manufacture; but their indigo (“mógoné”) is not very good, nor are they expert in dyeing.[34]

In addition to their cotton, which ought to be cultivated to an unbounded extent in these low and richly irrigated regions, the beautiful lattice-work of cane before mentioned, the common sort being called “parpar” or “farfar,” while a better kind is called “móman,” constitutes one of their most famous manufactures; their wooden bowls (“dalgwam”) likewise, and the round straw covers (“killé”), are remarkable; for the bowls are of very good workmanship, much better than they are seen in Kúkawa, although they do not attain to that excellency which is observed in the manufactures of Dár Fúr.

Altogether the inhabitants of this country seem to be a clever race, and are in general handsomer than the Bórnu people, the women in particular. It is remarkable that they use almost the same sort of tattooing as the Kanúri, consisting of sundry curved lines along the cheek, generally six, running from the outer angle of the eye down to the mouth; it is also curious that they have the same word for it[35] as the Kanúri, although their languages are so entirely different in other respects.

My stay in the country, of course, was too short to allow me to speak more decidedly respecting their moral qualities. The currency of pieces of iron as money, which Denham observed in his time[36], has long been abolished; and at present the standard money of the place is cotton strips of from two to three inches in width.

With regard to the language of the people of Logón, Denham has committed a great mistake in supposing that it was identical with the language of Bagírmi; for though what he heard was really the language of Bagírmi, which is spoken to a great extent by the natives, yet their original language, which is spoken exclusively, among the people themselves, is quite distinct, being nearly related to that of the people of Músgu. They call their language kélakú Lógone. As far as I became acquainted with it, the pronunciation is very difficult, on account of the many aspirated sounds, especially that of “kh” or “th;” and in this respect it has some resemblance to the English.

[Footnote 26: Bulletin de la Société de Géogr. de Paris, s. III. vol. xi. p. 30; vol. xiv. p. 159.]

[Footnote 27: This word is only another form of the name which the Yédiná give to the boat, viz. “pum.”]

[Footnote 28: It is very remarkable and interesting that the date-palm, in all these countries as far as Bagírmi, goes by the Háusa name “debíno,” from which circumstance it is plain that it was first introduced into that part of Negroland. Even the Fúlbe of Sókoto have no other name for it, while those of Ádamáwa call it after the tree of the native date, viz. the addwa or _Balanites Ægyptiaca_. But the Sónghay and Mába or Wadáy languages have quite independent names for this palm.]

[Footnote 29: I have however to observe that the Kúrí sometimes bring native corn as far as Búgomán.]

[Footnote 30: I think it has no connection with the river or lágham, else they could not call it “lághame Lógone.”]

[Footnote 31: The name is not mentioned in the annals of Edrís Alawóma.]

[Footnote 32: I will here give a list of the Ibálaghwáns, as far as they came to my knowledge. Íba-Gáre, Íba-Kyári, Íba-ʿOthmán, Íba-Káder, Íba- Abú, Íba-Ádem, Íba-Sʿaíde, Íba-Yáhia, Íba-Herdége.]

[Footnote 33: Appendix III., No. II.]

[Footnote 34: The reader will see that my judgment in this respect is very different from that which Denham passed on them (_Travels and Discoveries_, i., p. 237.); but Denham never visited Kanó, and had no standard for judging what was good and what was not.]

[Footnote 35: The Kanúri call it “béli,” the lógodé Lógone “bél.”]

[Footnote 36: Denham, i. p. 238.]

M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.

LOGÓN BÍRNI.

August, 17th. 1852.]

CHAP. XLVIII.

THE TWO RIVERS. — ENTRANCE INTO BAGÍRMI.

[Sidenote: March 16th.]

It was ten o’clock in the morning when I left Kárnak Logón in order to penetrate into unknown regions, never before trodden by European foot; and a short time afterwards I was sitting in the boat, while our horses, the camel, and the bullock were partly swimming across and partly fording the river. The water was in general shallow, though in the deepest place it measured eight feet and a half. The current was about three miles an hour. The country at that period had a very different appearance from what it presented on my return from Bagírmi. At present all those low grounds, which later in the season are entirely inundated, had a swampy, cheerless aspect, and I hastened onwards in order to escape from the unhealthy locality, heated by the rays of the mid-day sun. Only now and then a small patch of cotton-ground was seen between the tall jungle. Close to the river there is scarcely a single tree; but further on, where the country becomes more cultivated, isolated karáge-trees, together with straggling groups of cottages, were seen here and there. Not having exposed myself to the mid-day sun during the last few days, and the heat being very great, I looked for a place to pass the hottest hours of the day; and to the disappointment of my companions, who were anxious for a good dinner, I dismounted under the cool shade of a beautiful wide-spreading fig-tree, “ngábbere,” or “zérra,” as the people of Logón call it, at some distance from a little village called Sóso, situated towards the north, while on our right there was a watercourse winding along through a shallow depression in the green meadow grounds, without any visible inclination. These shallow watercourses are, as I have already had occasion to mention on my journey to Músgu, one of the most characteristic features in this part of Central Africa, which formerly was thought to be a dry elevated waste. Naked young lads were splashing and playing about in the water, together with wild hogs, in the greatest harmony; never in any part of Negroland have I seen this animal in such numbers as here about the Shárí. Calves and goats were pasturing in the fields, with wild hogs in the midst of them.

When we pursued our march at two o’clock in the afternoon, I was greatly pleased to see numbers of fine horses round the groups of Shúwa villages which bordered the watercourse; while the whole scenery was enlivened by the rich foliage of wide-spreading trees. Onions likewise were cultivated here in considerable quantities. On the right of our path were very extensive fields, of a peculiar kind of winter-corn, called “sáffará” by the people of Logón, and “kérirám” by the Kanúri. This belongs to the ruler of the country; but in general very little grain is seen in this part of Logón, the inhabitants being afraid of the people of Bagírmi, who used to gather the harvest of what they themselves have sown. But small cotton grounds are occasionally observed.

After a march of about nine miles we reached a place called Báta, half deserted, and surrounded by a clay wall, in a very decayed state. Nevertheless, the few cottages that remained, simple and unpretending though they were, testified to some degree of industry and cleanliness. Of hospitality, however, we received no proof; and the authority of the Míyará Ýsuf seemed to be nought indeed, these poor people affirming, with some show of reason, that as the ruler did not protect them against the unjust exactions of their neighbours, they need not respect his commands. There was, therefore, little necessity for the servant of the sultan accompanying me any further, for if they did not respect his orders here, they would certainly not do so further on.

[Sidenote: Wednesday, March 17th.]