Chapter XXXVIII: Rainy Season in Kúkawa (14)

Wheat is not cultivated at all, with the exception of a small patch in the interior of the capital, for the private use of the sultan. Rice is not cultivated, but collected, in great quantities after the rains, in the forest, where it grows in the swamps and temporary ponds; indeed a good dish of rice, with plenty of butter and meat, forms one of the few culinary luxuries which I have observed in Bagírmi. Another article of food in very general use, is afforded by several varieties of grass or _Poa_, identical, I think, with the _Poa Abyssinica_, here called “chénna” by the black, and “kréb” by the red natives (I mean the Shúwa). The variety most common in Bagírmi is called “jójó,” and is not only eaten by the poor people, but even by the rich; indeed I myself am fully able to speak from experience concerning it, as, with the addition of a little rice, I subsisted on it almost entirely during my long stay in this country, and found it very palatable when prepared with plenty of butter, or even boiled in milk. Of course it is a light food, and, while it does not cause indigestion, it does not satisfy the appetite for a long time, or impart much superfluous strength. As regards vegetables, molukhíya (“goñérmo,” _Corchorius olitorius_) and derába or bámiya (“gobálto” and “géddegír”) are mostly in use, besides the “góngo,” the leaves of the monkey-bread tree (“kúka”), and occasionally that of the hájilíj (“jánga”), which form the common palaver-sauce of the poor. Water-melons (“gérlaka”?) also are grown to some extent, and that sort of _Cucurbita_ called _melopepo_ (“kúrchi”?), which I have mentioned on a former occasion. Inside the capital a great many onions (“bassal”) are cultivated, but not so much for the use of the natives as of the strangers who visit the place.

Of articles of industry, cotton (“nyére”) and indigo (“alíní”) are grown to a sufficient extent to supply the wants of the natives; but both articles are chiefly cultivated by the Bórnu people who have immigrated into this country.

The soil in general seems to be of a good quality; but, as I have said above, the country suffers greatly from drought, and ants and worms contribute in a large measure to frustrate the exertions of the husbandman. Of the trees most common in the country, and most useful to mankind, I have principally to mention the tamarind-tree, or “ʿardéb,” called “más” by the people of Bagírmi,—a tree as useful for its fruit, as it is beautiful on account of its foliage. The tamarind-fruit, in my opinion, constitutes the best and surest remedy for a variety of diseases, on account of its refreshing and cooling character. Next in order is the deléb-palm, here called “káwe,” which is very common in several parts of the country, although far more so in the outlying provinces towards the south; the dúm-palm (“kolóngo”), which, although not so frequent, is nevertheless found in considerable numbers in many parts of the country; the hájilíj, or _Balanites Ægyptiaca_ (“jánga”), of which not only the fruit is eaten, but the leaves also are used as vegetables, like those of the monkey-bread tree—the latter does not seem to be very frequent; the kórna or _Cornus_ (“kírna”), and the sycamore (“bíli”). Many trees very common in Háusa, such as the kadéña, or _Bassia Parkii_, and the dorówa (_Parkia_), are never seen here, at least not in those districts which I visited; but _Croton tiglium_ (“habb el melúk”) is frequent, and I myself took a supply of this powerful purgative with me on my return from this country.

There are no mines. Even the iron is brought from the exterior provinces, especially a place called Gúrgara, distant from twenty to twenty-five miles from the river, where the sandstone seems to contain a great deal of iron ore. Natron is brought from the Bahr el Ghazál.

With regard to the special features of the country, and the topography of the towns and villages, they will be described in a separate chapter[59]; here I will only say that the entire population of the country seems scarcely to exceed a million and a half, and the whole military force, in the present reduced state of the kingdom, can hardly be more than 3000 horse, and 10,000 foot, including the Shúwa population, who surpass the black natives in breeding horses, while the cavalry of Wádáy may be most correctly estimated at from 5000 to 6000, and that of Dár-Fúr at more than 10,000. The weapon most in use among them is the spear (“nyíga”),—the bow (“ká-kesé”) and arrow (“kesé”) being rare, not only with the inhabitants of Bagírmi Proper, but even with those of the pagan states to the south. Scarcely a single person has a shield; and they therefore use only the Kanúri name for this arm, viz. “ngáwa.” Very few possess the more valuable coat of mail, or “súllug;” and I scarcely observed a single fire-arm during my stay. But, on the other hand, almost all the pagan inhabitants of these regions are armed with that sort of weapon found in so many other countries which we have touched on our journey, viz. the hand-bill, or, as the Kanúri call it, the “góliyó” (here called “njíga,” the difference between the name of this weapon and that of the spear consisting in one single letter). Very few of the Bagírmi people are wealthy enough to purchase swords (“káskara”), which they are not able to manufacture themselves; and few even wear that sort of dagger (“kiyá”) on the left arm, which, in imitation of the Tawárek, has been introduced into a great part of Negroland.

As for their physical features, I have already touched on this subject repeatedly. I will only say that they are a fine race of people, distinct from the Kanúri, but intimately related, as their language shows, to the tribe of the Kúka and several other tribes to the east. Their language they themselves call “tar Bágrimma.” Their adoption of Islám is very recent; and the greater part of them may, even at the present day, with more justice be called pagans than Mohammedans. They possess very little learning, only a few natives, who have performed the pilgrimage, being well versed in Arabic, such as Bú-Bakr Sadík; but not a single individual possesses any learning of a wider range. This exists only among the Felláta, or foreigners from Wádáy. The only industrial arts in which they have made a little progress are those of dyeing and weaving, both of which they have also introduced into the kingdom of Wádáy, although in their own country a great deal of the weaving and dyeing is carried on by Kanúri people. Black tobes are worn by the men to a much greater extent than in Bórnu, even the bólne or túrkedi, which generally forms the only dress of the females, as well as the upper garment or “debdaléna,” being dyed black. Tight shirts, or tarkíji, which in Wádáy constitute the common female dress, are very rarely worn.

The government of the country is an absolute monarchy, being not tempered, as it seems, by an aristocratical element, such as we have found in Bórnu, nor even by such an assembly as we have met with in the Háusa states. The duties of the chief offices of state are, it appears, by no means distinctly defined, and are therefore left to the discretion or abuse of each official, as we have seen that the fácha under the reign of ʿOthmán had assumed such a degree of power that he was capable of waging successful war for a long time against the king himself.

The title of the king is “bánga.” The office of the “fácha” corresponds exactly with that of the “keghámma” in Bórnu. Then follows the office of the “ngarmáne,” or the minister of the royal household; then that of the “ghelétma”—a name which has originated in a corruption of the title “ghaladíma.” Next comes the “gar-moyenmánge,” the governor of the open pasture-grounds and forests; after him the “mílma,” whose office is said to have been introduced from Bórnu, to whom succeed the “gar-ngóde,” the “gar-ngínge,” the “zérma,” and the “kadamánge,” the latter having originally the tutorship of the sons of the king. But besides these, the captains, or “bárma,” and the governors of the principal places, possess considerable power; and among the latter, especially the elífa Moító, or governor of Moító, while the officer of the water also, or elífa bá, exercises a great deal of authority. Of these courtiers, the following have the privilege of using a carpet to sit upon:—the fácha, the bárma, the ghelétma, the mílma, the gar-moyenmánge, the bang Busó, bang Dam, elífa Moító, and elífa bá. We have seen that the sultan, during his absence from the capital, had made one of the meanest of his courtiers, the kadamánge, his lieutenant-governor.

The mother of the sultan, or the “kuñ-bánga,” is greatly respected, but without possessing such paramount authority as we have seen to have been the case with the “mágira” in Bórnu, and as we shall find exercised by the móma in Wádáy. The claimant to the throne, who bears here the same title as in Bórnu, viz. chiróma, enjoys a certain degree of influence, the limits of which are not circumscribed, but depend upon his natural qualifications.

Although the sultan has here so different a title from that of the king of Bórnu, nevertheless the princesses bear the same title as those of Bórnu, viz. “méram,” a name which has even extended into the country of Wádáy.

As for the tribute which the king levies, and which is called “hadén- bánga,” the circumstances connected with my stay in the country did not allow me to arrive at a definite conclusion with regard to its amount; and I can only make a few general remarks upon it. The tribute levied upon the Mohammedan inhabitants of Bagírmi Proper consists principally in two different kinds, viz. in corn and cotton strips. The tribute in corn, which corresponds to the tsídirám maibe in Bórnu and the kúrdi-n- kassa in Háusa, is here called mótten-bánga, or, as it is generally pronounced, mótten-bánki, while the tribute in cotton strips bears the name “fárda-n-bánga.” But many places have to deliver also a tribute in butter, although the Shúwa, or, as they are here called, Shíwa, (the native Arabs) are the principal purveyors of this article to the court.

The Shíwa of Bagírmi belong principally to the following tribes:—Sálamát, Bení Hassan, Welád Músa (a very warlike tribe), Welád ʿAlí, the Deghághera,—who live scattered over the whole country, but occupy some villages almost exclusively for themselves. The principal tribute which these Arabs have to pay consists of cattle, and is called “jéngal;” it is very considerable. But whether these Arabs of Bagírmi, like those settled in Bórnu, have also to deliver to the king all the male horses, I am not quite sure; however, I think that is the case.

The most considerable tribute, however, which the sultan levies consists of slaves, which the tributary pagan provinces have to pay to him,—especially the chiefs of Miltú, Dam, Sómray, and all the others of whose territories and power we obtain some information from the itineraries I have collected.[60] This tribute of slaves constitutes the strength and riches of the king of Bagírmi, who is always endeavouring to extend his sway over the neighbouring pagan tribes.

The natives of Bagírmi are compelled to show to their sovereign a considerable degree of servile reverence; and when they approach him they are obliged not only to be bareheaded, but also to draw their shirt from the left shoulder, and to sprinkle dust on their heads. But they are not in general oppressed; and a far greater liberty of speech is allowed than in many European states.

[Footnote 46: The difficulty with regard to the name Bájó is considerable; for no such name as the Bájó is known, while the Dájó are a well-known tribe, who dominated Dár-Fúr in the tenth century of the Islám, and even at the present day are called “nás Farʿaón.” Nevertheless we cannot imagine that the name Bájó is a mere clerical error for Dájó, unless we would suppose those authors guilty of a very considerable mistake, as the Dájó seem to be of an entirely distinct origin from the Zogháwa, who belong to the great Tedá stock, while the former appear to have originated in the mountainous district of Fazogló, and the Bájó are expressly stated by those authors to have been the kinsmen of the Zogháwa. The Bájó may be identical with the tribe of the Bédeyát. With regard to the Zagháy of Makrízí, and the Soka of Masúdi, I have already offered an opinion on a former occasion.]

[Footnote 47: Ébn Sʿaíd, in Ábú ’l Fedá, p. 158.]

[Footnote 48: The Bagírmi people, even at the present day, connect the Bulála in the most intimate way with the Kanúri; for while they give to the latter the name “Bíyo,” they call the former “Bíyo-Bulála.”]

[Footnote 49: I will here mention that Fittrí is a word belonging to the language of the Kúka, and means nothing but “river,” “lake,” being quite identical with “Tsád,” “Sárí” or “Sháry.”]

[Footnote 50: The name Yʿawó is formed entirely in the same way as that of Mʿawó, the present capital of Kánem, and of Gʿaó, or Gʿawó, also called Gógó, the capital of the Songhay empire.]

[Footnote 51: With regard to their places of residence in the time of Edrís Alawóma, see Appendix II.]

[Footnote 52: I shall give a short account of the history of that country, in Appendix VI.]

[Footnote 53: Thus the name is generally pronounced in the country itself; but it very often sounds like Bagrímmi, and the adjective form is certainly Bágrimma, which often sounds like Barma. The learned men write بَقْرِم and بَكْرِم indifferently, while the Bórnu people write the name Begharmí بَغَرْمي or Bekármí بَكَارْمي.]

[Footnote 54: From all that I have said here, it appears very doubtful whether the Ibkárem, ابكارم, mentioned by Ebn Sʿaíd in the latter part of the thirteenth century, can be justly identified with this kingdom. Of course a tribe of this name may have existed many centuries before the foundation of the kingdom. The first undoubted mention of Bagírmi, or Bagharmí, occurs in Imám Áhmed’s account of Edrís Alawóma’s expeditions to Kánem.]

[Footnote 55: See collection of itineraries in the Appendix.]

[Footnote 56: The fact of the spreading of the Arabs at so early a period, is entirely confirmed by Imám Áhmed’s account.]

[Footnote 57: According to others he married also his sister. It seems that some attribute similar crimes to his father.]

[Footnote 58: I must observe, however, that boats of the Kaleáma, or islanders of the southern part of the Tsád, sometimes carry corn as far as Búgomán.]

[Footnote 59: See Appendix VII.]

[Footnote 60: See Appendix IX.]

CHAP. LII.

HOME-JOURNEY TO KÚKAWA. — DEATH OF MR. OVERWEG.

[Sidenote: August 10th.]

Although I had once cherished the idea of penetrating towards the upper course of the Nile, I was glad when I turned my face westward, as I had since convinced myself that such an enterprise was not possible under the present circumstances. I had been so many times deceived by the promise of my final departure, that when in the morning of that day a messenger from the zérma arrived with the news that I might get ready my luggage, I did not believe him, and would not stir till Zérma himself made his appearance and confirmed the news, assuring me that I should find the letter of the sultan, with regard to my security on a future visit, with Máina Sabún.

In consequence I ordered my servants to get my luggage ready; but before I started I received a visit from a large number of courtiers, with an agíd at their head, in order to bid me farewell, and also to entreat me for the last time to sell to the sultan my fine “kerí-sassarándi” (horse). But this I was obliged to refuse, stating that I wanted my horse for myself, and that I had not come to their country as a merchant, but as a messenger. It had always been a subject of great annoyance to them that I refused to sell my horse, as all the people who visit this country from the other side of Bórnu are in the habit of bringing horses with them expressly for sale. They revenged themselves, therefore, by giving me another nick-name, as an ambitious and overbearing man,—“dérbaki ngólo.” But I would not have parted with the companion of my toils and dangers for all the treasures in the world, although it had its faults, and was certainly not then in the best condition. I had some foreboding that it might still be a useful companion on many an excursion; and it was in reality still to carry me for more than two years, and was to excite the envy both of my friends and enemies in Timbúktu as it had done here.

Having received the letter of the sultan, with the contents of which I could not but express myself highly satisfied[61], I set fairly out on my journey; and my heart bounded with delight when, gaining the western gate, I entered the open country, and once more found myself at liberty.

The whole country was adorned with the most beautiful verdure, the richest pasture-grounds and fine corn-fields alternately succeeding each other; but as for the crop, the height which it had attained in the different fields varied greatly,—it being in one field as high as five feet, and the seed just coming out, while in another field, close by, the young crop was only shooting out of the ground. This was in consequence of no rain having fallen in the beginning of the season for nearly a month, a circumstance which had deterred many people from confiding their seed to the ground. Further on, there was much cultivation of beans.

Having now no necessity for laying down the path, with which I was sufficiently acquainted, I could surrender myself entirely to the general impression of the landscape, the whole aspect of the country being greatly changed. Beyond the Felláta village which I have mentioned on my outward journey, we had to cross an extensive sheet of water, and the ground was often very difficult to pass with my camel; so that we were full of anxiety with regard to the swampy country of Logón. Indeed the people who met us on the road did not fail to warn us that this was not the right animal for this season of the year; and there is no doubt that pack-oxen, on account of their sure-footedness, have a great advantage in travelling during this part of the year, though they are difficult to get across the rivers.

We arrived at the well-known village of Bákadá just in time to escape a heavy tempest, which continued with slight interruption the whole of the afternoon; but not finding my former host at home, I took possession of his hut on my own responsibility, and I afterwards calmed the anger of my good old friend, whose hospitality was so often claimed by all the passers-by on this great highroad, by presenting him with two fine white shirts. In fact I sympathized with him very heartily, seeing that the whole host of people who had attached themselves to my troop importuned him for shelter during our stay here the following day, although I might have expected that he would have extended his hospitality to myself for a day longer, as we were to part for ever, and as it was against my wish that I was delayed here. But such is the character of the Bagírmi people in their present reduced political and moral condition.

My companions were not yet quite ready. It rained the greater part of the following night; I had some trouble in making my people stir in the morning, and was really obliged to employ force in order to get our troop once more in motion. A European can form no idea how the energy of a traveller is paralyzed in these regions by the laziness of the natives.

At length we were on our road, and after a moderate march took up our quarters in Kólle-kólle. The quantity of rain which had fallen gave the country a very rich and exuberant appearance. Everywhere on the fields the long black worm called “halwési,” which causes so much damage to the crops, was seen in extraordinary numbers. It was scarcely possible to recognize the villages, the whole appearance of which, from every side, we had been well acquainted with during the dry season, the tall crops now concealing the cottages entirely from view. The following day we reached Kókoroché, having fortunately crossed a very difficult bog without any accident. The whole forest-region, which did not contain a drop of water on my out-journey, was now converted into a continuous line of swamps; and the whole surface was thickly covered with verdure. It is during this season that the Shúwa Arabs form here their temporary encampments.

In Kókoroché also we had another day’s delay, till the messenger of the sultan arrived who was to protect me against any further intrigues of the ferrymen, whom I regarded with more suspicion than any policeman or constable in Europe. Meanwhile also the wife of Gréma ʿAbdú, who all this time had been staying with her father-in-law in Mústafají, joined us, and all further delay seemed to be at an end. Certainly such a visit of a married woman to her father’s house cannot but contribute to give to Europeans a higher opinion of African domestic life. Indeed people in Europe have little conception how cheerfully man and wife in these regions live together; and it was this amiable feature in his character which reconciled me in some degree to my companion, whom in other respects I greatly disliked.

[Sidenote: August 13th.]

There had been a great deal of rain in the afternoon of the preceding day; and a heavy shower which came on in the morning, and lasted full two hours, delayed our departure considerably. The distance which separated us from the river was not great; but the latter part of the journey was so bad that my camel threw off its load no less than six times, so that my servants were almost in despair, and did not join me till several hours after my arrival in the town of Ásu, and when I had made myself already comfortable in an excellent hut, built of clay, neatly polished, but from which I felt sorry to have driven away two spinsters, who had been its tenants.

Having rested awhile, I went to obtain a sight of the river. Its magnitude had already surprised me, when I first saw it on coming from Logón, and it had delighted me as often as I looked down upon it from the village of Mélé; but it was now greatly increased in size, forming a broad sheet of water not less than one thousand yards across, and dotted with several little islands, while the high and gradually-shelving shore on this side was clothed with rich crops of Egyptian corn or masr (_Zea Maïs_). Several small canoes, or rather boats, were lying on the shore; but I looked in vain for one large enough to carry my camel, as I was really afraid to trust it to the stream. However, I was glad to observe that the current was not very strong; and it did not seem to me to flow faster than from about two and a half to three English miles an hour. Unfortunately, to-day also the weather was very wet, so that strolling about was not so pleasant as it would otherwise have been.

Ásu was formerly a walled town; but the walls at present exhibit the same signs of decay which characterize the whole country. However, the inhabitants, to whom the ferry is a constant source of profit, seemed to be tolerably at their ease. It is this village (which formerly appears to have been of much greater importance) after which the river is sometimes called the river _of_ Ásu; but it ought never to be called the river Ásu. Here also there is an officer or inspector of the ferry, with the title of kashélla[62], the same as in the village of Mélé.

[Sidenote: Saturday, August 14th.]

We had first to follow the bank of the stream for a little more than a mile lower down, in order to reach the flat sandy beach which I have mentioned above. At length, after a good deal of delay, the boats were brought, and the passage began. Our horses went first, three or four swimming alongside each boat; but it was a difficult affair for the men who were sitting in the boats to manage them, and notwithstanding all their exertions, and all the cries of those who were standing on the bank, several of them were washed away from the boats, and carried a considerable distance down the river by the current: one, a fine black horse, was drowned. It was the very latest period when the river is passable for horses; for during the whole of the month of September, the people assured me that the passage was never attempted. I myself succeeded in crossing the river, with my horse and luggage, without any accident; and having fired a shot, in order to express my satisfaction at having safely escaped from the hands of the superstitious Bagírmi people, I pursued my march without delay, for I was afraid of exposing my horse to the pernicious stings of the “tsetse” fly, which, as I have observed before, proves extremely dangerous to the animal, but which fortunately infests only the very banks of this river, for I have observed it nowhere else. It is a large yellow species.

I had now entered again upon the territory of my friend Yúsuf the prince of Logón, and could, without any danger of molestation, freely move about. The weather was very wet; and I twice took refuge in small villages, which were situated in the midst of rich corn-fields, in order to escape a heavy shower. The whole district is called Mókoró, and comprises, besides several villages of lógodé Logón, or people of Logon, ten hamlets of Shúwa, in one of which we took up our quarters. These Shúwa, however, are not distinguished for hospitality; and it required a great deal of negotiation before I was allowed to make myself comfortable in one of these huts, which are very spacious indeed for these countries, being from 50 to 60 feet in diameter: they have besides a very remarkable peculiarity, being furnished with a large bed-room, if I may say so, which occupies the middle of the hut, and consists of a room raised about three feet from the ground, twenty feet long by six to eight feet wide, and the same in height, separated into several compartments, and encompassed all round with mattings of latticework made of fine reeds, in which branch of industry, as I have before observed, the people of Logón are very clever. The matting is of dark colour; but upon my inquiring how they dyed it, I was not a little surprised to hear that it is done by dipping it into the black argillaceous soil. In this secluded room, which is called “ghurára,” these people protect themselves against the innumerable swarms of mosquitoes which infest these low swampy regions during the night.

Of course, I could not have any pretensions to this distinguished place, which is reserved for the different members of the family; and I took my station upon a raised platform of clay at the side of the entrance, where I was a little annoyed by the mosquitoes, although, the door having been shut at an early hour, and some cattle inside the hut attracting the attention of this cruel insect in a stronger degree, the numbers were supportable. In other respects I was well treated, the landlord being a wealthy man, of the name of Ádim, and his wife being even a princess or méram of Logón; she was a talkative and cheerful person. They regaled me with a small pancake soon after my arrival, and a dish of rice and milk in the evening. It was extremely interesting to witness the singular kind of living of these people, and to hear them talk their peculiar style of Arabic, which has not yet lost that profusion of vowels which originally characterized this language; but its purity has been greatly impaired by other peculiarities. They have some remarkable customs which connect them with their brethren in the East,—especially the law of retaliation, or e’ dhíye[63] and the _infibulatio_ of the young girls. These Arabs belong to the large tribe of the Sálamát.

[Sidenote: Sunday, August 15th.]

After a march of about eight miles, through a country partly cultivated with Negro millet, partly forming an extensive swampy plain, we reached the river of Logón. On account of the great rising of the river, we had been obliged to follow, this time, an entirely different path from the one we had pursued on our outward journey. The scenery was greatly changed; and the little hollow which we had formerly crossed close behind our landing-place had now become a navigable branch of the river, on which several boats of considerable size were seen plying to and fro. The whole river now presented a very extensive sheet of water, unbroken by any sandbanks or islands, which, while it certainly was exceeded in breadth by the river Shárí, surpassed it in its turn in swiftness, the current being evidently more than three and a half miles an hour.

The town of Logón with its palm-trees, of three different varieties, towering over the clay walls, invited me to its hospitable quarters; and as I was extremely anxious to reach Kúkawa without any further delay, I immediately crossed over (after having made a small sketch, which is represented in the accompanying plate), in order that I might be able to pursue my journey the following day; but upon paying a visit to the keghámma, I had great difficulty in persuading him to allow me to proceed, and at first he peremptorily refused to comply with my wish, saying that it would be dishonourable for his master to allow me to leave him empty-handed. But I chose rather to forego the opportunity of taking final leave of the prince Yúsuf, although I could not but feel sorry at not being able to wait till my hospitable host had prepared a few tobes for me, as specimens of the native manufacture.

It rained during the night and the following morning, and we had a difficult march through the deep swampy grounds of Logón; but we proceeded onwards till three o’clock in the afternoon, when we made a halt about three quarters of a mile beyond Úlluf or Húlluf, the town before mentioned, the magic arts of whose people frightened my companions also this time, and prevented them from seeking shelter there. However, even in the village where we stopped we were badly received at first; and it was only by force that my companions could procure quarters, till I succeeded gradually in opening friendly relations with the man who had become my host so much against his will. I even, with the aid of a few of the large beads called nejúm, succeeded in buying fowls, milk, and corn, so that we were pretty much at our ease. The neighbourhood is said to be greatly infested with thieves; and we therefore took all necessary precautions.

The following day I made Áfadé, passing by Kala, where I was surprised to find the swamp at present of much smaller dimensions than on my former journey, although the season was so far advanced. This is a very remarkable phenomenon, which receives its explanation from the circumstance that these swamps are fed by the inundations of the river, which, notwithstanding the rainy season, continue to recede till the river is again full, and once more inundates the country, in the month of September. The latter part of the road to Áfadé was very swampy, almost the whole of that bleak kabé tract being under water. Here my companions endeavoured by all sorts of intrigues to detain me for a day or two, but, notwithstanding the hospitable treatment which I received from the governor of the place, I was too anxious to reach Kúkawa; and, ordering my servants to follow me as speedily as possible, I pursued my march the following morning without delay. But the roads were excessively bad, and we were obliged to take quite a different direction from the one by which we came, following a more northerly one in order to avoid the impassable swamps of the town of Rén, and the very difficult road of Ngála.

Having passed several larger or smaller villages, and innumerable swamps, we halted for the night, after a march of eleven hours, in a village inhabited by Shúwa and Felláta, and called Wángara, a name which is rather remarkable; but it required a long negotiation in order to obtain quarters, as these people, who rely upon the strongholds afforded them by the swampy neighbourhood of the lake, are of a very independent character. But having once made their acquaintance, we were hospitably treated. The bíllama of the village was a Tynjurawi, who had emigrated to this place from Móndo; but he did not understand the peculiar idiom of his tribe.

During my next day’s march, I led rather an amphibious life, being almost as much in the water as on the dry ground; for, besides being drenched by a heavy rain, which lasted the greater part of the day, I had to pass three considerable rivulets without the aid of a boat, and had twice to strip myself and swim my horse across, tying clothes and saddle on my head. The first rivulet we had to cross was the Múlu, about seven hundred yards beyond the small town called Legári, which belongs to Kashélla Belál; the second was probably the Mbulú, and identical with the river called Gumbalaram by Major Denham, beyond the village of Dágala, which lies on a small eminence. At the Múlu we had enjoyed the assistance of the inhabitants of Legári; but here I and my mʿallem, with whom I had vigorously pushed on in advance, were left to our own resources, and the strong current of the rivulet, which was encompassed by steep banks about eight feet high, frightened my companion not a little, till I stripped first, and, relying upon my experience as a swimmer, led the way. While endeavouring to cross over, we were fortunate enough to meet with a fisherman, who was floating about the river on a simple yoke of large gourds, such as I have described on a former occasion; and with his assistance we succeeded in getting our horses and clothes across without any accident. While engaged in this arduous business, we were joined by Gréma ʿAbdú, who, seeing that I was obstinate, and ashamed at not arriving in the capital together with us, had at length left his wife and slaves behind, and endeavoured to keep up with us. We then continued our march through this swampy country, the rain falling in torrents, and near the village Hokkum reached the third rivulet, which however, notwithstanding its rapidity, we were able to cross without dismounting, the water just reaching up to our saddles.

At length we left behind us the black argillaceous soil which constitutes the whole of this alluvial plain, and which at the present season was converted into one continuous swamp, fine sandy soil succeeding to it near the village of Gujári, so that from thence we pursued our march more cheerfully; and having taken a small luncheon in the village Débuwa, we did not halt until we reached the village of Bogheówa, situated about a mile N.E. from Yédi. Here we were well lodged and hospitably treated, and were busy till late at night drying our wet clothes.

[Sidenote: Friday, August 20th.]

We had now only one long day’s march to Kúkawa; and, reaching the town of Ngórnu after six hours’ ride, I had great trouble in dragging on my horsemen, who being quite exhausted, wanted to make themselves comfortable with their friends, for the Bórnu men of the present day are not accustomed to much fatigue. Indeed both my companions were so utterly prostrated, in mind and body, that, strange to say, they lost their road close to the capital, although certainly the high corn-fields gave the country a totally different appearance. The great pond of Kaine was now larger than I had ever seen it, and flooded the path to a great extent.

Having sent on a man in advance, in order to announce my arrival to the vizier and Mr. Overweg, I made a short halt near one of the many pools of stagnant water; and we were just about to remount when my friend came galloping up. We were both extremely glad to see each other again, having been separated from one another longer than on any former occasion; and they had received in Kúkawa very alarming news about my reception in Bagírmi. Mr. Overweg had made, meanwhile, a very interesting trip into the south-western mountainous districts of Bórnu; he had returned from thence about two months previously; and I was surprised to find that, notwithstanding the long repose which he had enjoyed, he looked more weak and exhausted than I had ever seen him. But he informed me that since his return he had been very ailing, and that even at present he did not feel quite recovered. He gave me a very lively and encouraging description of the means which had been placed at my disposal; and with the most spirited projects for the future we entered the town. Here I once more found myself in my old quarters, with luxuries at my command which during the last six months had become almost strange to me,—such as coffee with sugar, and tea with milk and sugar.

It was very fortunate that I had not arrived half a day later; for the caravan as well as the courier had gone, and not less than four days had passed since the departure of the latter, so that the people declared that it was not possible to send my letters after him. But the vizier, upon whom I called early the next morning, and who received me with great kindness, gave me three horsemen, who, he said, would overtake the courier; and as I had fortunately answered my letters and despatches in Bagírmi, I had only to make up my parcel: but the horsemen did not overtake the courier till he had got forty miles beyond Ngégimi, in the very heart of the desert. My servants did not arrive until the evening of the following day; and they were in rather a sorry plight, having had great difficulty with my camel and luggage.

[Sidenote: Monday, August 23rd.]

We had a very important private audience with the sheikh, when, after the usual compliments were passed, I endeavoured to give him a clear description of the present relations of the expedition; for, when he expressed his wish that I might be appointed by Her Majesty as a consul, I declared to him that that could not be, but that it was my business to explore unknown countries, to open intercourse with them, and afterwards to return to my native country; that it was the most ardent desire of Her Majesty’s government to enter into the most friendly relations with Bórnu, but that our scientific mission extended far beyond that country. And I further explained to him that Government, in their last despatches, had expressed their wish that if we should ascertain the impossibility of penetrating in a southerly or easterly direction, we might turn westward and endeavour to reach Timbúktu.

This statement seemed to gratify him extremely, as he was afraid of nothing more than that we might go to Wádáy, and enter into friendly relations with the sultan of that country. It is from this point of view that I am quite sure that the vizier at least had done nothing to ensure me a good reception in Bagírmi, if not the contrary. However, the sultan declared that, as he was greatly pleased at our desire to try our fortune in a westerly direction, he should not prevent us, even if we wanted to go to Wádáy, as it was stipulated expressly in the treaty that Her Britannic Majesty’s subjects might go wherever they pleased,—although it was not until a few days later that he actually signed the treaty, after numerous delays and evasions. I, however, expressed my wish that, before we left the country, circumstances might allow us to complete the survey and exploration of the Tsád, which was both our own wish and that of the British government. Our addresses and our presents having been received with equal affability, we took a hearty leave, and returned home. On the last day of August the sultan signed the treaty, expressing moreover the hope that, if merchants should actually visit the country in quest of other merchandise than slaves, the slave-trade might be gradually abolished.

I was now enabled to arrange all our money matters, which were in a very confused and desperate state; for, besides the large debt due to the merchant Mohammed e’ Sfáksi, we were indebted to the vizier alone for 500 Spanish dollars. Not being able to satisfy all our creditors with ready money, there having been sent only 1050 dollars in cash, I arranged with the merchant, giving him 200 dollars in cash, and a bill for 1500 dollars on Fezzán, while I paid all the smaller debts, as well as that of the vizier. Indeed we might now have been able to achieve a great deal, if it had been our destiny to remain together—for in the beginning almost all our efforts were paralyzed by the smallness of our means, which did not allow us to undertake anything on a large scale; but it was our destiny, that, when sufficient supplies had arrived, one of us should succumb.

I have already observed that, when on my return I met my companion before the gates of the capital, I was surprised at his exhausted appearance; and I was sorry to find that my first impression was confirmed by what I observed afterwards. As he himself was anxious for a little change of air, and as it was entirely in accordance with our object of exploring the lake, to observe the state of the komádugu at this season, while it was not possible at present to enter upon any great undertaking, we agreed that he should make a small trip to the lower part of the river; and he left accordingly for Ájiri on the 29th of August, in company with a small grandee or kókana, to whom the place belonged, a short distance westward from the district of Dúchi. I accompanied him about as far as the village of Dáwerghú; and we separated with a firm hope that the excursion would do him a great deal of good—and he really enjoyed extremely the rich vegetation of the komádugu, which at this time of the year, during the rising of the river, was in its full vigour. He learnt, by inquiry from the natives, the very interesting fact that the water in the komádugu, which during the dry season is limited to detached pools of stagnant water, begins to form a continuous stream of water eastward towards the Tsád on the 21st or 22nd July, and continues running for about seven months; that is to say, till about the middle of February. It begins to overflow its banks in the month of November. But, although my companion took great interest in the objects around him, he could not have felt very strong, as the notes which he wrote during this excursion are extremely short and unsatisfactory, while it would have been of importance if he had been able to lay down the course of the river with tolerable exactitude. Moreover, in his feeble condition, he committed the mistake of forcing his last day’s march in returning to Kúkawa, on the 13th September; and I was sorry to observe, when we supped together that evening, that his appetite greatly failed him.

Being fully aware of the unhealthiness of the climate during the month of September, we agreed by common consent to keep moving about as much as possible, and to take a ride every day to some distance. It was on this account that we arranged a visit to Dáwerghú on Sunday the 20th; but, unfortunately, some business which we had to transact prevented our setting out at an early hour in the morning, and, my friend’s head being that day rather affected, I proposed to him putting off our excursion till another day; but he thought that the fresh air might do him good. We therefore started in the heat of the day, although the sun was not very bright, while my companion did not neglect to protect his head as well as possible from the rays of the sun.

Having refreshed ourselves in the cool shade of a fine hájilíj, Mr. Overweg thought himself strong enough to go about shooting, and was so imprudent as to enter deep water in pursuit of some waterfowl, and to remain in his wet clothes all the day without saying a word; and I only became aware of this fact late in the evening, after we had returned to the town, when he dried his wet clothes at the fire.

Although he had been moving about the whole day, he was not able to enjoy our simple supper; but he did not complain. However, the next morning he felt so weak that he was unable to rise from his couch; and instead of taking a sudorific, which I most earnestly advised him to do, he was so obstinate as not to take any medicine at all, so that his illness increased with an alarming rapidity, and rather an alarming symptom appeared on the following day, when his speech became quite inarticulate and almost unintelligible. He then became aware himself of the dangerous state he was in. He informed me that in the town he should never recover, that it was absolutely necessary for him to get a change of air, and that he entertained the hope that, if I could take him to Máduwári, he might speedily regain his health in the house of our friend the kashélla Fúgo ʿAlí.

It was a difficult task to take my sick companion to the desired place, which is distant from Kúkawa more than eight miles; and though he began his journey on Thursday morning, he could not reach the desired place until the morning of Friday. Having made a present to our friend Fúgo ʿAlí, that he might be induced to take sufficient care of him, and having left the necessary orders, I returned to the town in order to finish my despatches; but the same evening one of the servants whom I had left with Mr. Overweg, came and informed me that he was much worse, and that they were unable to understand a single word he said. I mounted immediately, and found my friend in a most distressing condition, lying outside in the courtyard, as he had obstinately refused to sleep in the hut. He was bedewed with a cold perspiration, and had thrown off all his coverings. He did not recognize me, and would not allow me or any one else to cover him. Being seized with a terrible fit of delirium, and muttering unintelligible words, in which all the events of his life seemed to be confused, he jumped up repeatedly in a raging fit of madness, and rushed against the trees and into the fire, while four men were scarcely able to hold him.

At length, towards morning, he became more quiet, and remained tranquilly on his couch; and, not becoming aware that his strength was broken, and hoping that he might have passed the crisis, I thought I might return to the town. After asking him if he had any particular desire, he said that he had something to tell me; but it was impossible for me to understand him, and I can only fancy, from what happened, that, being aware that death was at hand, he wanted to recommend his family to me.

At an early hour on Sunday morning, Mr. Overweg’s chief servant came to me with the sad news that the state of my friend was very alarming, and that since I had left him he had not spoken a word, but was lying motionless. I mounted immediately on horseback; but before I reached the place, I was met by a brother of Fúgo ʿAlí, who, with tears in his eyes, told me that our friend was gone. With the dawn of day, while a few drops of rain were falling, after a short struggle, his soul had departed.

In the afternoon I laid him in his grave, which was dug in the shade of a fine hájilíj, and well protected from the beasts of prey. Thus died my sole friend and companion, in the thirtieth year of his age, and in the prime of his youth. It was not reserved for him to finish his travels, and to return home in safety; but he met a most honourable death, as a martyr to science; and it is a remarkable fact that he found himself a grave on the very borders of that lake by the navigation of which he has rendered his name celebrated for ever. It was certainly a presentiment of his approaching death which actuated him in his ardent desire to be removed to this place, where he died hard by the boat in which he had made his voyage. Many of the inhabitants of the place, who had known him well during his repeated visits to the village, bitterly lamented his death; and no doubt the “tabíb,” as he was called, will be long remembered by them.

Dejected, and full of sad reflections on my lonely situation, I returned into the town in the evening; but our dwelling, which during my stay in Bagírmi my companion had greatly improved, and embellished by white- washing it with a kind of gypsum, of which he found a layer in our courtyard, now appeared to me desolate and melancholy in the extreme. While, therefore, originally it had been my plan to make another trial along the eastern shores of the Tsád, any longer stay in this place had now become so intolerable to me, that I determined to set out as soon as possible on my journey towards the Niger—to new countries and new people.

[Footnote 61: I sent this letter, with the sultan’s seal, to the Foreign Office at the time.]

[Footnote 62: Kashélla is properly a Bórnu title; but it is in general use in these places along the western frontier.]

[Footnote 63: With regard to this custom, Burkhardt’s information (_Travels in Nubia_, 2nd ed. Appendix I. p. 434.) is very correct; but in general his information respecting the countries on the east side of the Tsád is marred with mistakes, not only with regard to the geography, but even the ethnology of these quarters, as he always confounds native and Arab tribes.]

APPENDIX.