Part 4

Thus ended the month of January, with utter disappointment at the failure of my expected departure, and with nothing but empty promises. After a sleepless night, I awoke on the 1st of February full of anxiety. I felt really afraid lest my host, notwithstanding his friendly disposition towards me, might keep me here the whole summer. At length I eased my mind in a slight degree by writing a letter to the Sheikh, wherein I made him a witness against himself, in having so repeatedly given me his word, that I should certainly leave this city and proceed on my home journey. But matters, indeed, now looked more serious, another Púllo officer of well-known energy, viz. Átkar, the governor of Gúndam and Díre, having arrived with a considerable troop of armed men from Hamda-Állahi, and another man of still more importance, Áhmed el Férreji, was soon expected. The Fúlbe seemed fully resolved to vindicate their power and authority over the town; and, in order to show that they were masters of the place, they exacted this year a tribute of 2000 shells on each slave with great severity.

Uncertain as were my prospects, I contrived to pass my time usefully by applying myself to the study of the idiom of the Western Tawárek, with Mohammed ben Khottár, the Sheikh’s nephew, and a Tárki of the name of Músa, for my teachers. Thus endeavouring to master my impatience, I listened with composure to the several rumours which were repeatedly spread with regard to the arrival of the various brothers of the Sheikh, an event which, according to his statement, formed now the only reason for delaying my departure. But in a long private conversation which I had with him on the 4th, when I urged him more than usual, he began to appeal to my humane feelings, and, discarding all political motives, confessed that the chief reason which detained him was the pregnancy of his wife, and earnestly begged me to await the result of this event.

All this time, on account of the unusual height which the inundation had reached this year, a great deal of sickness prevailed in the town; and among the various people who fell a sacrifice to the disease was the son of Táleb Mohammed, the richest and most influential Arab merchant in the place, whose life I should have liked very much to save; but, seeing that the cure was very uncertain, I thought it more prudent (as I always did in such cases) not to give him any medicine at all.

Having staid several days in the town, we again went out to the tents in the afternoon of the 8th, in the company of Rummán and Mushtába, two Tawárek chiefs who had come to pay the Sheikh a visit. On emerging from the Áberaz, I had with the latter a horse-race to some distance. As the Fullán seemed to have some projects against the Tawárek, and had strengthened their military power in the town of Gúndam, these Berber tribes were very much irritated against the former; they had even made an attack on a boat, and killed one of the Fullán and wounded another, while those of their tribe who were settled nearest to Gúndam thought it more prudent to change their dwelling-place, and to migrate further eastward.

According to the profession of the two chiefs who accompanied us, they did not wish to be at peace with that warlike tribe which is daily spreading in every direction; but, notwithstanding their personal valour, the Tawárek are so wanting in unity that they can never follow any line of policy with very great results, while those who have a little property of their own are easily gained over by the other party. Thus, instead of sticking closely to the Sheikh, and enabling him to make a firm stand against the Fullán, they seriously affected his interest at this time, by plundering, disarming, and slaying four Tawáti, who belonged to a small caravan that arrived on the 11th, and who, like all their countrymen, enjoyed the special protection of the Sheikh.

My friend seemed at this moment to doubt the arrival of his brothers, not less than that of Alkúttabu, the great chief of the Awelímmiden, and endeavoured to console me for the long delay of my departure by saying that it was the custom with them to keep their guests at least a year in their company. He informed me, at the same time, that he wanted to make me a present of a horse, and that I might then, if I liked, give one of my own horses to Alkúttabu. He was this day more communicative than usual, and sat a long time with me and his pupils, delivering to us a lecture on the equal rank of the prophets, who, he said, had each of them one distinguishing quality, but that none of them ought to be preferred to the other. He dwelt particularly on the distinguished qualities of Moses, or Músa, who was a great favourite with him, although he was far from being friendly disposed towards the Jews, the spirit of Mohammed Ben ʿAbd el Kerím el Maghíli, who hated that nation from the bottom of his heart, and preached the Jihád against it, having communicated itself to the Mohammedan inhabitants of this part of Negroland.

At another time my friend entered, without any prejudice, into the subject of wine and pork, and he had not much to say against the argument with which I used to defend myself from attacks in this respect; viz. that while we believed religion to concern the soul and the dealings of men towards each other, we thought all that regarded food was left by the Creator to man himself; but, of course, he would have been greatly shocked if he had beheld the scenes exhibited every evening by gin palaces in the midst of the very acme of European civilisation.

At other times again, taking out of his small library the Arabic version of Hippocrates, which he valued extremely, he was very anxious for information as to the identity of the plants mentioned by the Arab authors. This volume of Hippocrates had been a present from Captain Clapperton to Sultan Bello of Sókoto, from whom my friend had received it among other articles as an acknowledgment of his learning. I may assert, with full confidence, that those few books taken by the gallant Scotch captain into Central Africa have had a greater effect in reconciling the men of authority in Africa to the character of Europeans, than the most costly present ever made to them; and I hope, therefore, that gifts like these may not be looked upon grudgingly by people who would otherwise object to do anything which might seem to favour Mohammedanism.

We staid at the tents till the 14th; the time, on this occasion, hanging less heavily upon my hands than formerly, in consequence of the more cheerful and communicative disposition of my host, and because I was able to gather some little information. The weather, too, was more genial. We had a really warm day on the 13th, and I employed the fine morning in taking a long walk over the several small sandy ridges which intersect this district. There were just at the time very few people about here who might cause me any danger, and I only fell in with the goatherds, who were feeding their flocks by cutting down those branches of the thorny trees which contained young offshoots and leaves. But the Sheikh, having received some private information, suspected that our enemies might make another attempt against my safety; and having requested me to send my servant, ʿAbd-Alláhi, into the town, in the course of the day, to inform my people that we were about to return, he mounted with me, after the moon had risen, and we again entered our old quarters.

[Sidenote: February 16th.]

This morning one of my men, the Zaberma half-caste, Sambo, whom I had taken into my service at the residence of Galaijo, came to request to be dismissed my service. In the afternoon I went to pay my respects to the Sheikh, and was rather astonished to hear him announce my departure more seriously and more firmly than usual: but the reason was, that he had authentic news that his elder brother, Sídi Mohammed, whose arrival he had been expecting so long, and whom he wanted to leave in his stead when obliged to escort me the first part of my journey, was close at hand. The big drum having really announced his arrival at the tents, we mounted on horseback, half an hour before midnight, and arrived at the encampment a little before two o’clock in the morning. Here everything, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, bore a festive character, and a large tent had been pitched for the noble visitor at the foot of the hilly slope, the top of which was occupied by the Sheikh’s own tents.

The eldest member of this princely family was a man a little above the middle height and strongly built, with a fine commanding expression of countenance, and manners more stern and warlike than those of El Bakáy, but not wanting in affability and natural cheerfulness. In the position in which I was placed, as a stranger, not only of a foreign country and nationality, but of an opposite creed, and as the cause of so many difficulties to these people in their political affairs, I could not expect that this man would receive me, at our first interview, with remarkable kindness and cordiality. It was therefore not to be wondered at that, in the beginning, he asked me a great many questions which it was not agreeable for me to answer in the presence of strangers.

Next day, Hammádi, the son of El Mukhtár, the near relative of El Bakáy, and the latter’s chief adversary, and therefore my enemy, arrived with several followers at the encampment. El Bakáy constrained himself, for his elder brother’s sake, to remain in the same tent with Hammádi; but Sídi Alawáte, the younger and more reckless brother, was not to be persuaded to enter the tent as long as his hated cousin was there. He spent the day in my tent till his enemy was gone. Sídi Mohammed did not seem to be at all unfavourably disposed towards Hammádi, and wanted even to enter the town in his company; but he was obliged to yield to the combined efforts of his two younger brothers, who refused the company of their cousin.

This was the first opportunity I had of seeing Hammádi, with whom I had wished from the beginning to be on friendly terms, but was forced by the policy of my host to avoid all intercourse with him, and thus to make him my adversary, as he was that of the Sheikh. I had received a favourable account of his learning from different quarters; but his personal appearance was certainly not very prepossessing. He was of a stout figure, with broad coarse features, strongly marked with the small-pox, and of a very dark complexion, his descent from a female slave being his chief disadvantage.

Sídi Mohammed was very anxious to get into the town, but El Bakáy, with his usual slowness, and perhaps this time longer detained by the interesting situation of his wife, made his appearance at a very late hour in the afternoon, and endeavoured to defer our departure till the next day; but his elder brother was too energetic to be thus put off, and having given sufficient vent to his dissatisfaction on account of the too great influence which Mrs. Bák (that was the name of El Bakáy’s wife) exercised over his brother, and asking me with an ingenious turn whether I knew who was more influential than sheikho Áhmedu ben Áhmedu and lorded it over his brother, he mounted his horse and sent his young nephew to tell his father that he was ready and was expecting him. Thus forced against his own inclination, the Sheikh at length disengaged himself from his family, and we went into the town in the company of a few horsemen who had come out to pay their respects to Sídi Mohammed, firing a few shots as we entered the place.

Of course, in a town where no strong government is established, and where every great man exercised all the influence and power of which he was capable, due homage and tribute were to be rendered to this potentate of the desert who came to honour it with a visit. A musical performance took place in front of the house of the Sheikh, where he took up his quarters; and each foreign merchant prepared a gift, according to his wealth, by which to obtain the protection of this man, or rather to forestall his intrigues. These gifts were by no means small; and I felt a great deal of compassion for my friend ʿAlí ben Táleb, whose present, although by no means trifling, was sent back by Sídi Mohammed as neither adequate to the dignity of the receiver nor to that of the giver. I myself also found it necessary to make to this dignitary a respectable present. I gave him the finest bernús or Arab mantle which I had still left, besides a black tobe, and sundry smaller articles.

In other respects the town at this time became rather quieter, and trade was more dull. The small caravan of the Tájakánt, some members of which had only spent a few days in the town, left on the 20th; and the only articles which they took with them were salt and a little calico. Even directly from the north, along the most frequented route, the trade became insignificant; and a party of merchants who arrived from Tawát on the following day was exceedingly small. Among them were two respectable Ghadámsíye merchants, but having resided three or four months in Tawát, they brought neither recent news nor letters for me. However, they came just in time, as on the 22nd a countryman of theirs, of some importance, died, and I learned on this occasion something about the property of merchants in this place. The deceased was a tolerably wealthy man; among the property which he left there being found about 2000 mithkál in gold, a considerable sum of money for this place, although it did not belong to himself, but to the Tíniyan, or the well-known Ghadámsi family of the Tíni, whose agent he was. The house where he lived was worth 200 mithkál.

Having, while in the town, much time at my disposal, and only little intercourse with the people, I had made ready another parcel containing the information which I had been able to collect for sending to Europe; and it was well that I had done so, as early on the 26th a small troop of poor Tawáti traders left for their native home. But, unfortunately, this parcel did not find Her Britannic Majesty’s agent to whom it was addressed at Ghadámes, as he had left his post for the Crimea; and thus my family was thrown into the deepest grief in consequence of the rumour of my death; all my effects were buried; and when I arrived at length in Háusa, where I had reckoned to find every thing that I wanted, I found even the supplies which I had left drawn away from me, as from a dead man.

Almost the whole of January and the beginning of February had been in general cold, with a thick and foggy atmosphere, well representing that season which the Tawárek call with the emphatic and expressive name “the black nights,” éhaden esáttafnén; and all this time the river was continually rising or preserving the highest level which it had reached. But on the 17th the river, after having puzzled us several times as to its actual state, had really begun to decrease, and almost immediately afterwards the weather became clearer and finer, thus testifying to the assertion of the Tawárek—who have exchanged their abodes in the desert for this border district along the river, as well as the Arabs, who give to this season the name of the forty nights—that the river never begins really to decrease before the end of this period. The greatest danger from the inundation is just at this time, when the waters recede, as the rising ground on which the hamlets along the shore are situated has been undermined and frequently gives way; and we received intelligence on the 22nd that the hamlet of Bétagungu, which is situated between Kábara and Gúndam, had been destroyed in this manner.

Although I had enjoyed a greater degree of security for some time, my situation, after a short respite, soon assumed again a serious character, and hostile elements were gathering from different quarters; for, while a very important mission was just approaching from Hamda- Alláhi, on the 25th we received the news that ʿAbidín, that member of the family of Mukhtár who followed a policy entirely opposite to that of El Bakáy, was reported to be near, and he was conducted into the town by Hammádi with considerable display.

In the morning of the following day, just as the atmosphere changed from bright to gloomy, a powerful Púllo officer, and a prince of the blood, Hámedu, a son of Mohammed Lebbo, entered the town with a numerous troop on horseback and on foot, among whom were ten musketeers. They marched past my house on purpose, although the direct road from Kábara did not lead that way, in order to frighten me, while I, with the intention of showing them that they had entirely failed in their object, opened the door of my house, displaying in the hall all my firearms, and my people close at hand ready to use them.

But my little band became more and more reduced, for when the chief of my followers, the Méjebrí, ʿAlí el Ágeren, saw a fresh storm gathering against me, he disclaimed any further obligation towards me, notwithstanding the salary which he continued to receive. But, as I had given him up long before, this further manifestation of his faithlessness did not make a great impression upon me. On the other hand, I had attached to myself, by the present which I had bestowed upon him, the eldest brother of the family upon whose good-will, under the present circumstances, a great deal depended.

Thus approached the 27th of February, when the real character of the mission from Hamda-Alláhi, of which Hámedu had only been the forerunner, was disclosed. Having been in a lazy and rather melancholy mood the whole day, I was reclining on my simple couch in the evening, when I was surprised by the Sheikh’s nephew entering abruptly, and, although betraying by his sad and serious countenance that something very grave oppressed his mind, yet squatting silently down without being able or feeling inclined to say a word. Scarcely had he left me, when my Tawáti friend, Mohammed el ʿAísh, who continued to show me a great deal of kindness and sympathy, called me into the Sheikh’s presence. I was ushered in with great precaution through the hall and up the narrow winding staircase, and found the three brothers in the terrace-room engaged in serious consultation.

After I had taken my seat, they informed me that the Fullán were making a last attempt against my safety, and that, together with Kaúri, the former emír, a distinguished nobleman of the name of Mohammed el Férreji, had arrived in Kábara accompanied by a troop of about one hundred men, and that the latter messenger had addressed to my host two letters of very different character and tenour, one being full of manifestations of friendship, and the other couched in most threatening terms, to the effect that something serious would happen if he did not send me off before he (Férreji) entered the town. But, no active course of proceedings was resolved upon, although Mohammed, who was the most energetic of the three, proposed that we should mount on horseback and pass the night on the road to Kábara, partly in order to prevent the inhabitants of the town from joining the Fullán in that place, in conformity with the order which they had received, partly in order to intercept anything that might come from the hostile camp. While proposing this energetic measure, the chief of Ázawád was playing with his four-barreled musket, which, even under these momentous circumstances, excited my curiosity almost more than anything else, as I had never seen anything like it in Europe. It was of excellent workmanship, but I could not say of what peculiar character, as it did not bear any distinct mark of nationality. Of course I suspected, when I first beheld it, that it had belonged to the late unfortunate Major Laing, but I was distinctly assured by all the people, though I would scarcely believe it, that this was not the case, and that it had been purchased from American traders at Portendik. At present it was rather short, the uppermost part having been taken off in consequence of an accident; but it was nevertheless a very useful weapon and not at all heavy. It was made for flints, there being only two cocks, but a cannon to each barrel.

Having discussed various proposals with regard to my safety, with characteristic slowness, and coupling serious observations with various amusing stories, Sídi Mohammed sat down and wrote a formal protest in my favour, and sent it to the emír Kaúri. However, I doubt whether, on a serious inquiry, this paper would have been regarded by Christians as very flattering to their position in the world; the principal argument brought forward by my noble friend and protector for not dealing with me in so cruel a manner being, that I was not “ákáfir” than the “ráís,” meaning that I was not a greater “káfir,” or unbeliever, than Major Laing; for, besides not being very complimentary, it left it open to our adversaries to reply, that they did not intend to treat me worse than the Major had been treated, who, as is well known, having been forced to leave the town, was barbarously murdered in the desert.