Part 22
At length we thought that we had entirely left the swampy ground behind us; but about a mile and a half beyond the village Gerláje, which we left on one side, we had to cross a very deep and broad swamp, in which one of the last of my camels fell down and died. Three miles beyond, we reached the village of Gárbo, which was already familiar to me from my outward journey, although I was scarcely able to recognize it, so great was the change produced by the rich vegetation, and the crops of millet and sorghum which had sprung up through the influence of the rainy season. But the inhabitants also, elated by the hope which the prospect of a rich harvest held out to them, exhibited a far more cheerful temperament than on my former visit, and immediately led me through the narrow lanes to the house of the emír, who received me in a hearty manner as an old friend. On entering into conversation with him, I was not a little astonished to find that he was acquainted with all the incidents of my stay in Timbúktu. He quartered me in the same small but neatly arranged hut where I had been lodged during my former stay, and from which I felt rather sorry to drive away the industrious landlady. The governor treated me in an extremely hospitable manner, sending me, besides milk and corn, even a small heifer, although I had made him only a very trifling present. His name is ʿAbd el Waháb, and he is a brother of Ábú el Hassan by his father’s side. With such cheerful treatment we enjoyed our stay here very much, the weather having cleared up, and a rainy morning being succeeded by a fine afternoon.
The friendly disposition of the governor was the more agreeable, as we were delayed here the following day, several of my companions being disabled by sickness, and the Serkí-n-Chíko wanting to lay in a supply of corn for the road. I spent a great deal of my leisure time, thus involuntarily obtained, in the company of the latter, who detailed to me the incidents of the struggle of his family with the Jihádi, and dilated on the importance of the town of Jéga, which is a market place of great consequence, especially for rough silk, with which it supplies the whole of Zánfara, and even the distant market of Alóri, or Ilóri. In fact, I am quite sure that the silk which has been obtained from the missionary station in Yóruba, is nothing but the selfsame article introduced into this country from Tripoli, and again exported from thence to Háusa. In my conversation with this man, he mentioned a circumstance which struck me as peculiar, that the Háusa people have no general name for the Songhay. Their only designation for them is Yammatáwa, meaning the western people, a term which is only used in opposition to Gabbestáwa, the “eastern people,” without any regard to nationality.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, August 9th.]
On leaving the village of Gárbo, we were induced to follow the traces of our Háusa companion, and to ascend directly the steep rocky passage which we had turned on our former journey; but we found that this time also the proverb was confirmed, that “the more haste the less speed,” for the passage proved so difficult that all the luggage fell from the backs of the camels, and caused us a great deal of delay. However, as soon as we reached the flat level of the forest, we proceeded onward without interruption till we had passed our former place of encampment. Finding no water here we pushed on, but, unfortunately, on account of part of our caravan having gone on in advance, we were prevented from encamping before the storm, which had gathered over our heads during the afternoon, broke forth, when the whole ground was in a moment so deeply covered with water that it was impossible to encamp. Thus, although drenched to the skin, we were obliged to keep on, in the most uncomfortable manner, till we found a little higher ground, where the branches of a sylvan encampment supplied us with the means of protecting our luggage against the extreme humidity of the ground. It is such encampments as these which are the cause of so much unhealthiness to travellers, and I did not feel at all comfortable until, with great difficulty, I had lighted a fire inside my wet tent, the rain continuing outside with increased violence. But the weather affected my people, who were less protected than myself, in such a manner, that they were shivering with wet and cold in the morning, and we did not get off until a late hour.
Having met some energetic and warlike-looking horsemen from Fógha, and passing several small ponds, we descended a little, and then proceeding over the hilly ground, which was more scantily timbered, we gradually approached the remarkable valley of Fógha. As I had decided upon visiting the town of Kallíyul, I was obliged to change here my direction to the south-west, keeping along the side of the valley. The narrow footpath was now overgrown with rank grass, and the numerous salt- manufacturing hamlets were destitute of life and animation, and overgrown with vegetation. We were also glad, for the sake of the famished inhabitants of this district, to see the fields waving with tolerably rich crops, and a few cattle grazing about. Some animation was caused by an encampment of native traders which we passed, consisting of light sheds built of reed.
Proceeding thus onwards we reached the town of Kallíyul, and were here received outside the gate by two horsemen, when I was without delay quartered in a large and clean hut built of clay, and about thirty feet in diameter. I had scarcely made myself comfortable, when Señína, and the most respectable of the inhabitants, came to pay their compliments to me in the most cheerful manner, saluting me as an old acquaintance and as an enterprising and successful traveller; while I, in my turn, complimented them on account of their having retrieved some of their losses by capturing a fine herd of cattle from the enemy. I was glad to see that they were not in such a famished condition as when I was here a year previously, and I gratefully acknowledged the moderate proof of hospitality which they were able to bestow upon me, consisting of a little túwo, a large quantity of milk, and a few kóla nuts. I rewarded their kindness as well as I was able under my present reduced circumstances.
It was here that I learnt with certainty the death of my friend the vizier of Bórnu; for although the governor of Say, when we read to him the general letter of recommendation which the Sheikh el Bakáy had written for me, had remarked that ʿOmár was no longer ruler of Bórnu, and had thrown out some hints respecting the death of the vizier, those indications were too vague to be relied on; but now circumstances were mentioned in such a positive manner that I could no longer entertain a doubt as to the truth of the report, and it was with some anxiety that I thought of Mr. Vogel and his companions, and my own affairs in the country of Bórnu.
Towards evening I wandered about a little, and found the town only scantily inhabited, although, as I have said before, the hamlets for manufacturing salt are almost deserted at this time of year, as no salt can be obtained as long as the bottom of the valley is covered with water. The situation of the place is of considerable strength, being defended not only by the wall on the east side, but also by a swamp on the west side, at least during part of the year; and it is this circumstance which renders it more intelligible how the inhabitants have been able to defend themselves against the repeated attacks of the revolted Déndi.
The greatest object of interest for me, and which would alone have rewarded a visit to the place, was a specimen of an oil-palm, _Elais Guineensis_, quite isolated, but, together with some palm bushes of the same species, serving to prove that this palm can thrive, even in the interior, in localities where the soil is impregnated with salt, as is here the case; although in general it is assumed, and seems to be proved by experience, that it cannot grow at any great distance from the ocean.
We had taken up our quarters inside the town, in consequence of the statement of ʿAbdú that we should be able to cross the valley at this spot, but to my great disappointment I learned that I should have to retrace my steps for some miles, as far as the spot where I had crossed the valley on my outward journey. In order therefore not to lose more time than was necessary, I left the place in the afternoon of the next day, intending to encamp beyond the valley at the entrance of the forest. After a good deal of opposition from my companions, I effected my purpose, being escorted out of the town by Señína, with two mounted archers, and followed by all the people who wanted to take the same road; for as soon as they saw me marching out with confidence, they all followed, one after the other, and encamped close round my tent, which I had pitched on the eminence above the valley near the dúm-palms, as if it were a talisman to protect them against any attack; and midnight had scarcely passed, when the drum of ʿAbdú was heard in the distance, indicating that he also did not tarry. But in consequence of the laziness of my people, whom the numbers of mosquitoes had scarcely allowed to close their eyes, he arrived before we had prepared our luggage, so that we did not get off until three o’clock in the morning; and, owing to a pack-ox belonging to ʿAbdú having fallen down in the narrow path in the forest, we lost another hour before we could fairly proceed.
Marching then onwards without further delay, we reached, half an hour before noon, the site of Débe, in the dense thicket of the forest, which was inundated with water, and made a short halt, without dismounting, in order to allow the Háusa people to drink their furá. There were about one hundred fatáki or native traders, most of them bearing their little merchandise on pack-oxen or asses, but some of them carrying it on their heads as dan-garúnfu. Having refreshed ourselves, we continued our march, but, frightened by a thunder-storm which was gathering over our heads, encamped near a shallow pond of water. However, there was but little rain, and we had a tolerably quiet evening. Here also we suffered greatly from the mosquitoes, which, together with the extreme insecurity of the communication, are the great drawback to the full enjoyment of a journey through Kebbi.
[Sidenote: Sunday, August 13th.]
About two miles from our starting-point, having slightly ascended, we had again to descend the steep rocky passage, the rising ground before us, with its dense timber, appearing like a chain of mountains. Having then ascended again, we reached the tebki, or pond, which I have mentioned on my outward journey, and being thirsty, we all went to drink, but found the water so abominable, that all my companions from Timbúktu were attacked with serious illness, especially Sídi Áhmed, who was seized suddenly with such a severe attack of fever that he declared the water to have been poisoned. But although it is not totally impossible that the enemy might have poisoned the pond—from which they knew that all the passers-by supplied themselves with water—with some herb or other, I think that its unwholesome character was caused in the same manner as the water of the brook near Úro Béleng, which had made one of my companions and myself ill on a former occasion.
Having again descended a rocky passage, we passed the site of a former encampment of Sultan Bello, which he used as his head-quarters when he destroyed the towns of Débe and Kúka. The sight of this place, together with the remembrance of the ruinous warfare which had proceeded from thence, gave my companions an opportunity of expatiating on the great strength of Kebbi in former times, when the whole of Gúrma, with all the Songhay places as far as Téra, were subject to them; but I never heard that the dominion of this country, or of any province of Háusa, had ever extended as far as Timbúktu. Proceeding then cheerfully on, we reached the first monkey-bread trees at the border of the forest, and were greatly delighted at the sight of the fine herds of cattle belonging to the inhabitants of Tilli, with the rich crops, part of which was already cut in order to satisfy the most urgent wants of the population. The whole district, together with its fine timber, which had now put forth its utmost exuberance of foliage, left a very pleasing impression.
Thus we reached the town of Tilli, but the western gate being very narrow, we had to turn round half the circumference of the wall in order to reach the eastern entrance; but having at length penetrated into the interior, we were lodged close to the western gate, where we had arrived an hour previously. I had thus the advantage of getting a good insight into the relations of the population of this place, and found the town to be much better off and more densely inhabited than Zogírma. But while the governor of the latter town ranks like a petty sultan, and has some cavalry under his command, that of Tilli is a mere mayor, without rank or authority. The present governor, whose name is Búba-Sadíki, enjoyed still less authority from personal reasons, as he was prostrated with the same illness which had lamed the governor of Say. This “señi,” or rheumatism, as I have stated on former occasions, is a kind of disease of which every African traveller who exposes himself a great deal during the rainy season, particularly along swampy regions and in leaky boats, is very susceptible. I suffered dreadfully from it after my return to Bórnu.
While the télamíd of the Sheikh went in person to the governor in order to alleviate, if possible, his enfeebled state by means of their prayers and blessing, I made him a small present, and he sent me some rice in acknowledgment. The little market was tolerably well supplied, and I was very glad to find here, besides sorghum, the large wholesome onions of Gando, and some dodówa, sour milk also being in considerable abundance; and it was interesting to observe how much more cheerful all the inhabitants were under the present circumstances, than they had been the previous year. I should have liked very much to have paid my compliments to my friend of Zogírma, in order to see how he was going on after being relieved from a great part of the anxiety which appeared to oppress him the year before; but fearing the delay, I resolved to make direct from here to Birni-n-Kebbi.
[Sidenote: Monday, August 14th.]
We had heard already on our journey that we had arrived at the very latest time in order to cross, with any degree of safety, the swampy fáddama of the gúlbi-n-Sókoto, which a little later in the season is extremely difficult to pass. At all events it was very fortunate that no rain had fallen for the last few days, or we should have experienced considerable difficulty in crossing this swampy ground: even as it was, we had to traverse three sheets of water, the first of which was about three feet deep and of considerable breadth, the second forming the real bed of the river, running with a south-westerly bend towards the Kwára, although not so wide as the former, and the third forming a stagnant creek. Having passed some ricefields, we at length, after a march of a little more than three miles, emerged from the swampy bottom of the valley, and ascended rising ground covered with the fine crops belonging to the inhabitants of Diggi, and soon after left the town itself on our right, which from our former journey had remained in our remembrance, as we had here been met by the chivalrous sons of the governor of Zogírma. Here dukhn and durra were grown promiscuously in the same field, affording a proof that this ground is well adapted for both kinds of cultivation.
Having here fallen into our former road, I hastened on in advance along the well-known path towards Birni-n-Kebbi, which however now exhibited a different character, on account of the whole country being covered with tall crops; and turning round the walls of Kóla, we reached the gate of Birni-n-Kebbi. The aspect of this town had likewise undergone an entire change, but not to its advantage; the town, which of itself is narrow, being still more hemmed in by the crops. For the moment, the place had certainly a rather desolate appearance, the greater part of the inhabitants being engaged in an expedition led on by ʿAbd el Káderi, or as he is commonly called, ʿAbd el Káderi-ay, a younger brother of Khalílu. As I rode up to the house of the mágaji or governor, Mohammed Lowel, he was just sitting in his parlour with a few of his people, when he, or rather his attendants, having recognized me as his old acquaintance ʿAbd el Kerím, came out to salute me in a very cheerful manner. However, the expedition being expected to return the same evening, there was no room for us inside the town, and we were obliged to seek shelter outside, descending the steep and rugged slope to the border of the fáddama, where we obtained, with difficulty, quarters for myself, in an isolated farm. The hut was extremely small, and full of ants; but the door was provided with a peculiar kind of curtain, made of the leaves of the deléb-palm, which, while admitting access, entirely excluded the mosquitoes, which infested this place in enormous quantities. We were well treated by the owner, or maigída, of the farm, in conformance with the orders which he received from the mágaji, to whom I sent a small present, reminding him of the larger gift which I had given him the preceding year. His hospitality was the more acceptable, as the market was very badly supplied, neither millet nor rice being procurable; sour milk also was extremely dear, as on account of the crops, and the quantity of water covering the valley, the cattle had been all sent off to a great distance, into the neighbourhood of Gando.
Late in the evening the expedition returned, bringing about one hundred head of cattle and thirty slaves, whom they had captured from the enemy. But although the commander of the expedition was to return to Gando himself, I did not like to wait for him, and started early the next morning along our old path, which was only distinguished at present by the quantity of water with which it was covered, especially near the village Háusáwa, where the whole shallow bed of the valley formed one sheet of water three feet deep. A good deal of cultivation of rice was at present to be seen. Thus we reached Gúlumbé, where, this time, in consequence of the quantity of rain that had fallen, inundating the ground outside close up to the wall, I took up my quarters inside the town, and obtained tolerably good lodgings, the courtyard being surrounded by a most exuberant growth of vegetation, and the finest timber; but the mayor did not treat us quite so well as I expected, although I made him a present of a black shawl. The market here also being badly provided, I had great difficulty in obtaining a sufficient supply of corn for my horse.
We had scarcely left the narrow lanes of the town with its extraordinary exuberance of vegetation, when the rain set in, so that we were wet both from above and below, the path either leading through tall crops, or through pools of stagnant water. The path further on, according to the information which we collected from people whom we met on the road, being entirely inundated, when we reached that western branch of the fáddama near the village of Badda-badda, we followed a more southerly direction to the large open village Kóchi, where we intended passing the night. But it was with the utmost difficulty that we obtained lodgings, nor did we experience the least sign of hospitality, and while an immense quantity of rain fell outside, I was greatly tormented by the number of mosquitoes, which were insufficiently excluded from my hut by a stiff piece of leather hung before the door.
[Sidenote: Thursday, August 17th.]
As soon as the weather allowed us we left this inhospitable village, and soon afterwards entered forest, to which succeeded fine crops of corn. Four miles beyond Kóchi, we had to cross a large fáddama full of water, and intersected in the middle by a running stream, bordered by great numbers of water lilies, and giving us altogether a fair idea of the difficulties attending travelling through this country at the present season of the year. A month later it would be entirely impassable for a European traveller encumbered with any amount of luggage. But the road was tolerably well frequented, and we were met by a long train of broad- shouldered square built Núpe females, each with a load of from six to eight enormous calabashes on her head, journeying to the Friday market of Jéga.
This is the important place, which, under the command of ʿAbd e’ Salám, had made a long and successful resistance against the author of the reformatory movement of the Fúlbe, and which, on account of its mercantile importance, had attracted attention in Europe a good many years ago; and although it has declined at present from its former importance, it was still of sufficient consequence to make me desirous of visiting it; but the great quantity of rain which fell at this time by rendering the communication very difficult for loaded camels, prevented me from executing my design. A little further on I met with one of those incidents which, although simple and unimportant in their character, yet often serve to cheer the solitary traveller in foreign countries, more than the most brilliant reception. After having crossed a valley, we were ascending the last rocky passage before coming to Gando, when we met here a troop of men, and as soon as one of them saw me in the distance, he broke out into the cheering exclamation, “Márhaba, márhaba, ʿAbd el Kerím.” It was highly gratifying to me when returning after a long absence to a place where I had resided for so short a time, to be recognized immediately and saluted in so hearty a manner, although my stay in Gando was connected with many a melancholy reminiscence.