Part 11
The well-defined character of the river, however, did not last long, and again there succeeded the low swampy shore, which occasionally obliged us to keep at a greater distance from the main trunk, while the vegetation in general was abundant. The predominant tree in this district, also, was the siwák, or _Capparis_, which, with its small berries, which were just ripening, afforded us occasionally a slight refreshment. They can, however, only be taken in small quantities, as they have a very strong taste, like pepper, and on this account are much pleasanter when they are dried, in which state they afford a not inconsiderable portion of the food of the nomadic inhabitants of these regions. Besides the siwák, or “tésak,” there was also a great quantity of “retem,” which is here called atárkit or ásabay; further on, dúm- palms became very prevalent.
Leaving, then, the locality called Tahónt on our left, we reached a very large grassy creek, which was enlivened by herds of cattle, and encamped on its border, in the shade of a dense belt of fine trees, woven together by an immense number of climbing plants. The whole bottom of the valley was at least seven hundred yards wide, and behind a smaller strip of water a larger open branch was observed, intersecting the rich grassy valley. It is very remarkable, that neither the Imóshagh, or Tawárek, nor the Arabs, have, as far as I am aware, a name sufficiently expressive for these shallow vales; the Arabs in general calling an open creek of water “rejl” or “krá,” and a less open one “bot-há;” while the Tawárek call them in general an arm, properly a leg, of the river, or “ádar-n-eghírrëu;” but the native Háusa name “fáddama” is far more significant. It was on this account that Caillié called the whole of these shallow creeks by the corrupted Jolof name, “marigot.”
Close behind our encampment the ground formed a slight slope, and presented the site or tazámbut of a former Songhay place called Hendi- kíri, a place which is perhaps identical with Kambakíri, mentioned in the history of Songhay as the spot where a dreadful battle was fought between two rival pretenders.[28] It is difficult to imagine the different aspect which this country must have presented in former times, when all the favourable sites formed the seats of flourishing dwelling- places, and animated intercourse was thronging along the track on the side of the river. It was a fine halting-place, characteristic of the whole nature of this region; but the ants were very numerous, and disturbed us greatly during our short halt.
After resting for about four hours, we pursued our march eastward, keeping for the first mile close along the bot-há, which soon changed its character to a considerable open sheet of water. Leaving then this water, and crossing several smaller grassy creeks, and traversing a low sandy ridge, we reached another large backwater; and winding along it in a south-easterly direction, through bushes and dúm-palms, we reached, after a march of about six miles, an interesting sandy headland called Ém-n-kúris, situated at the point where the creek joins the river, which here forms a fine sweep, changing its course from a west-easterly to a south-northerly direction.
On this open sandy promontory we chose the spot for our night’s quarters, opposite an encampment of the Kél-antsár which was situated on the other side of the creek, and enlivened by dúm-palms. The river itself formed a fine open sheet, broken only by a small island, and, being animated by several boats, exhibited a grand spectacle. There was a good deal of consultation in the evening between the eldermen, or ámaghár, of the Kél-antsár and my protector, with regard to the course to be pursued under the present political circumstances of the country, these poor people scarcely knowing which party to follow amidst the general confusion which prevailed. I learned on this occasion that the Ígelád, to whom the tribe of the Kél-antsár belongs, have three learned chiefs or judges, the most respected of whom, El Táher, lives at Rás el má. The night which we passed here on a rising ground just over the stream was beautifully fresh, while the elevation caused us to be exempt from the plague usual in these swampy lowlands.
[Sidenote: Sunday, May 21st.]
While we were breaking up our encampment and loading our animals, the opposite camp of our friends was enlivened by numerous herds of sheep and goats, and we should have made a very interesting day’s march, as we were now approaching a better-inhabited district, if it had not been for the hospitable treatment of our hosts, who, in order to satisfy their numerous visitors, had probably, the preceding night, mixed together all sorts of milk, so that almost all the people were seriously ill; and the first part of our march presented so distressing a spectacle that most of my companions thought the milk had been poisoned.
Thus we passed a remarkable locality on a rising sandy bank behind a considerable creek, which, by its name Tamizgída, evidently indicates the site of a former dwelling-place, and is probably identical with the Tírka (or rather Tírekka) of Arab geographers[29], if that identity does not apply to Ghérgo. Having passed this place, we followed the shallow water, which gradually widened, being intersected by fences and dykes for the purpose of cultivating rice and catching fish. Larger trees became gradually more scanty, indicating our approach to a still existing dwelling-place, as is generally the case in Negroland, the trees being consumed for firewood; but just as we came in sight of this place, which is Ghérgo (pronounced Rérgo), in order to avoid the heat during the midday hours, on an almost unprotected shore, we thought it better to halt in the shade of the last trees. I myself found shelter under the densely woven foliage of a fine group formed by the union of a géza with an aghelál, where I had nothing better to do than to treat all my people with tea and coffee, in order to restore their wasted spirits and strength, as they had suffered greatly from their last night’s diet.
Our road from this point to the town led along the border of the swampy lowlands, following a great many windings round the indented shore of the creek. Thus we reached, after a march of a little more than two miles, the bank opposite the village of Ghérgo, and began looking about for some time for a fit place to encamp, for the village itself, situated as it is behind a large backwater, could not be reached. The opposite shore is extremely bleak and unbroken, being destitute even of bush, while only three isolated trees dotted the ground for a great distance, and these were unfortunately too far off from the ford, where we chose our camping-ground, to be of any use to us during our stay.
Ghérgo is a place not without interest, and seems to be of considerable antiquity. According to tradition, it is stated to be seven years older than Túmbutu, or Timbúktu, and seems therefore well deserving of a right to be identified with one of the celebrated centres of life in these regions in the first dawn of historical record. It was originally situated on the main, occupying an eminence a little to the east of our encampment, till, in more recent times, the weakened and unprotected inhabitants were obliged to retire behind the backwater from fear of the Tawárek. Certainly, the insular nature of their dwelling-place is of a rather indistinct character; for in general, with the exception of those years when the inundations of the river reach an extraordinary height, as had been the case this year, the smaller branch dries up to such an extent, that a person may enter the place without wetting his feet; but this happens at a season when their tormentors the Tawárek leave the banks of the river and retire inland, so that they suffer but little from them. This year the high state of the inundation had inspired them with so much confidence, that they had refused their boats to the tábu, or the army of their great liege lord himself. The river had risen to such an elevation, that it had reached their very huts, which, separated into three distinct groups, are situated on a slightly rising ground.
The inhabitants, even in the present reduced state of the country, raise a good deal of rice and tobacco, though the cultivation ought to be much more extensive, if we consider the wide expanse of the low swampy ground which is reached by the inundation. The river, indeed, is at such a distance, that it is not seen at all, being hidden behind the sandy downs which form its inner bank. But it is remarkable that the nutritious grass, the býrgu, which I have so repeatedly mentioned, was almost wanting here, and the cattle of the village were obliged to be driven to a great distance, so that, notwithstanding the richness of the pasture-grounds in general, I was in want of milk.
We remained here the following day, and after a very cold morning, which seemed rather remarkable in the month of May, I took a walk up the gradually rising downs, which partly consisted of sand and gravel, partly exhibited a more stony character, and, contrasted with the wide green valley of the river, presented a bleak desert scenery with undulating ground towards the north, clad with nothing but isolated tufts of dry herbage. From the higher ground I had an interesting view over the whole village, situated in the midst of swampy creeks and bordered on each side by a solitary tree. I counted from this point about 350 huts.
On returning from my walk to our encampment, I found a great number of the inhabitants of the place assembled, and, after they had paid their compliments to the Sheikh, anxiously looking out for the stranger in order to obtain his blessing also. But I did not find them sufficiently interesting to have much intercourse with them, for they have very little of that noble independent carriage which distinguishes, in such an eminent degree, their south-eastern countrymen; and their stature, as well as their features, seemed to indicate plainly a very strong intermixture with Mósi slaves. It is not improbable, that the whole indigenous population of this northern bank of the Niger originally belonged to the race of the Tombo. Most of these people wore closely fitting white shirts and trowsers, both made of a broad kind of cotton strip, or tári, of very coarse texture, while their head is generally encircled with a very rugged and poor turban, if we may so call it, of the same material; only a few of them being dressed in a more decent style. They had a good deal of butter, but dared not sell it, through fear of the Tawárek. I was not a little surprised at the large species of geese which they were breeding.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, May 23rd.]
We started in the cool of the morning, keeping close to the border of the swampy creek, which gradually becomes narrower, while the principal trunk of the river approaches. After a march of about a mile and a half, we receded a little into the desert, which exhibited an immense number of footprints of the giraffe, generally three or four together. Here the vegetation was rather scanty, the ground in general being covered with nothing but low bushes; but, after we had approached a small ridge of sandy downs, we crossed a hollow, which, being the dried up ground of a pond, or dhaye, was surrounded with dúm-bush and tobacco-grounds.
We had been joined some time previously by a chief of the Kél-antsár, who invited us to spend the hot hours of the day with him. We therefore halted at an early hour by the side of his encampment, which was situated on a promontory close beyond the rich vale whence the district was called “eráshar;” Kírtebe and Tárashít we had left on one side. The people slaughtered a whole ox, and sent us a great many dishes of rice and sour milk. The whole tribe of the Kél-antsár is rather numerous, numbering upwards of 1000 full-grown men, but they are scattered over a wide extent of country, reaching from Gógó to Rás el má, and even into the interior of Tagánet, the district between Timbúktu and Ázawád. We had intended to pitch our tent here, but we found the ground so extremely dry and hard that it would not hold the pegs.
Soon after starting in the afternoon, on descending from the eminence we had a fine view of the river, two branches of which united behind an island. But the scenery soon changed, and, leaving the river at some distance, proceeding first over sandy ground, and then crossing a large backwater which was at present tolerably dry, and following a large herd of cattle that were returning from their pasture grounds, we reached another considerable ámazágh of the Kél-antsár, and encamped between them and the green swampy shore of the river. The place is called Zár- ho; but in the river lies the island of Kúrkozáy, which has obtained a kind of celebrity on account of a sanguinary battle which was fought there thirty-five years previous to the time of my visit, between the Tawárek on the one side, and the Songhay and Ermá or Rumá on the other. The people here seemed to be very rich in cattle, and supplied us with an enormous quantity of fresh milk.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, May 24th.]
While we were loading our camels, the sky was overcast with thick clouds, and heavy rain evidently fell in Áribínda, while with us the strong wind prevented the clouds from discharging their contents. I have repeatedly remarked upon the quantity of rain that falls on the southern side of the river compared with the northern. Dry as the country here appeared to be, we this day became more than ever entangled among the numerous backwaters which make the passage along the river so difficult, although they afford the richest pasturage to the cattle. The fault was that of our guide, who directed our course too far south from east, till, on becoming aware of our error, we had to cross two very considerable grassy creeks, the first having three and a half feet of water, and the last being still deeper. The tall rank grass of the býrgu entangled the feet of the horses, and caused them to fall, to the great discomfiture of their riders.
Having at length succeeded in crossing this double creek, we had still to traverse another grassy inlet, joining it from the north side, after which, all these swampy low lands uniting together, formed a very extensive fáddama, at the broadest part about two or three miles wide, the whole surface of the water being covered with water-lilies (_Nymphæa Lotus_). Beyond this extensive backwater, on a grassy island of the river, lies the hamlet Tabálit, and at a short distance from it another ádabay, of the name of Ábaten. Here the extensive backwaters after a little while cease, and allow the river itself to approach the sandy downs, which in this spot rise to a considerable height. They thus afforded myself and the Sheikh’s nephew a fine view over the river, which here forms a “large island,” designated by this very name, “autel- makkóren,” or “imakkóren;” it often forms the camping-ground for Tawárek tribes. The sandy downs, however, soon gave way to swampy backwaters, the indented outline of which gave to our march a very indistinct direction, and formed a remarkable contrast to the dreary rising-ground on our left. The difficulties, however, after a while became more serious than ever, for we suddenly found ourselves on a narrow dyke, destined to keep back the water for the cultivation of rice, situated in the midst of a swamp. For the people of Timbúktu, who were brought up in the swampy grounds, were not aware of any difficulty until we approached the opposite shore, when we found that the dyke was intersected by a narrow channel, over which it was dangerous to leap our horses; and although my own horse accomplished the feat with success, many of the others refused to do so, so that most of the people preferred making their way through the swamp. As for myself, it was highly interesting to me, thus to become aware of all the various features of this whole formation, although for the sake of comfort we ought to have kept further inland.
When we at length left this swampy ground behind us, everything bore testimony to the fact, that we were approaching another little centre of life in this neglected tract, which, from a certain degree of civilisation, has almost relapsed into a state of total barbarism. Dykes made for the cultivation of rice, and places where the býrgu, the rank grass of the river, was passed through a slight fire in order to obtain honey from the stalks thus deprived of the small leaves, were succeeded by small fields of tobacco and wheat. Nay, even barley was seen, an almost unheard of article in the whole of these regions. Meanwhile, the deep channels made for irrigating these grounds showed a degree of industry which I had not seen for a long time. At present, of course, they were dry, the stubble of the wheat and barley alone remaining in the fields, irrigation being employed only during the highest state of the river, when the water closely approaches these grounds.
Here, where an open branch of the river was seen dividing into two smaller arms, we obtained a view of the town of Bamba, or rather of its date-palms, which waved their feathery foliage over a sandy promontory. However, the sky was by no means clear. Soon we reached this spot, and I was highly delighted at seeing again some fine specimens of the date- palm, having scarcely beheld a single one since leaving Kanó. The trees on the western side of the village are formed into groups, and in their neglected state, with the old dry leaves hanging down from under the fresh ones, formed a very picturesque spectacle. On the east side, also, where we were encamped, close to a magnificent tamarind, were two tall slender specimens of this majestic tree; but altogether there were scarcely more than forty full-grown date-palms. They are said to furnish a good kind of fruit, but, not having tasted them myself, I cannot give an opinion as to their quality.
The village, at present, consists of about two hundred huts, built of mattings, and oval-shaped; for, besides a small mosque, there are only two or three clay buildings, or rather magazines, one of which belongs to Bábá Áhmed, a younger brother of the Sheikh El Bakáy, who generally resides here; at present, however, he was absent.
Such is the condition of this place at present; but there cannot be any doubt that it was of much more importance three centuries ago, as it is repeatedly mentioned in the history of Songhay; and its situation—at a point where the river, from having been spread at least during a great part of the year over a surface of several miles, is shut in by steep banks and compressed at the narrowest point to from 600 to 700 yards—must have been of the highest importance, at a time when the whole of the region along this large navigable river was comprised under the rule of a mighty kingdom of great extent, and even afterwards, when it had become a province of Morocco.
This was evidently the reason why the place was fortified at that time, and probably it had formerly a strong fortress, constantly occupied by a garrison, which accounts for the Tawárek, even at the present day, calling the whole place by the name of Kásba. It also serves to explain the fact, that the whole population of the village, even at the present time, consists of Rumá, the progeny of the musketeers who conquered this province for the Emperor of Morocco. But, while in former times they were the ruling race, at present they drag on a rather miserable existence, the protection of the Kunta being scarcely sufficient to defend them against the daily contributions levied upon them by the overbearing rulers of the desert. A short time previously the chief Sadáktu had driven away almost all their cattle.
While awaiting the camels, I sat down on a cliff overhanging the steep bank, which here was about twenty-five feet in height, and enjoyed the splendid view over that great watery highroad of West-Central Africa. The waves of the river were raised by a strong wind, and offered considerable resistance to some light boats endeavouring to reach the opposite shore. My companions soon observed the interest which I took in the scene, and my amiable friend, the Sheikh’s nephew, joined me here to enjoy the pleasant prospect. He was glad to find that, since we were fairly proceeding on our journey, my mind had become far easier and more cheerful. He often spoke with me about my happy return to my native country; and I expressed to him the wish that he might accompany me, and witness for himself some of the achievements of Europeans. He had been to this place several times before, and had always taken great interest in the difference in the nature of the river, which, from spreading out over flat swampy shores with numerous backwaters, with a few exceptions, here becomes compressed between high banks; and he again repeated to me his account of the great narrowing of the river at Tósaye, where a stone might easily be thrown from one bank to the other, while at the same time the river was so deep, that a line made from the narrow strips of a whole bullock’s skin was not sufficient to reach the bottom.
While thus cheerfully enjoying the interesting scenery, we were joined by several Rumá inhabitants of the village, who rather disturbed our silent contemplation. But their own character was not wholly uninteresting; for several of them were distinguished from the common Songhay people by the glossy lustre and the lighter hue of their skin; their features also were more regular, and their eyes more expressive. All of them wore, as an outward token of their descent, a red bandage about two inches wide over the shawl which covered the upper part of their face, and a leathern belt hanging loose over the right shoulder, ready to be fastened round the waist at the first signal of danger. Several of them were also distinguished by their better style of dress, which betokened a greater degree of cleanliness and comfort. As for smoking, all the inhabitants along the shores of this great river seemed to be equally fond of it. The pipe is scarcely ever out of their mouth. While smoking, they keep their mouth covered, after the fashion which they have learnt from the Tawárek. The head of the pipe sticks out from below the shawl.
At length the camels arrived. They had been called back by mistake from the upper road which they were pursuing, into the difficult swampy ground which we ourselves had traversed. A large comfortable dwelling of matting, or “búge,” as it is called, was erected on the sandhills, for the Sheikh and his companions; but I had my tent pitched near the fine group of date palms, and from this point I made the subjoined sketch, which will impart to the reader a tolerably correct idea of the place.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.