Part 21

Em-eríwuang, with water, one day; Inar-ámas, one long day; Tibállaghén, with water when there has been much rain, one day; Terhén, with water, one day; Tin-afárfa, mountain-range with sand, one day; Takíset, a valley between high mountains, three days, two of them over very sandy ground; Arikím, with water at all times; Iséti, a valley, two days; Tamiswát, valley with water, one day; Morér, high mountains, two days; Falésselez, one day, over a gravelly Hammáda; Tamba- or Shamba-késa, a shallow valley rich in herbage (see p. 262.), one day; Tirárien, one day; Araer, hammáda with shallow valleys, one day; Táfak, one day; Arókam, water, one day; Tádomat, valley, one day; Kátelet, one day; Aísala, or Isala, one day.]

[Footnote 90: I read it “énfadmaschbel.”]

[Footnote 91: This is a Háusa word, from “rába” (to divide); and I shall have to notice, in the course of my proceedings, several localities so designated on various routes.]

[Footnote 92: This name is evidently identical with the name given to the Berber alphabet, which is called tefínaghen; but the coincidence will cease to surprise when I remark that both words mean nothing but signs, tokens, a name which may be given as well to letters as to a district remarkable for the position of some stones or ridges. The Tawárek, as I shall have occasion to mention in another part of my narrative, call all sorts of writing not written in signs, but with letters, tefínaghen. The learned among the Tademékket and Awelímmiden were greatly surprised, when going attentively over my English books, to find that it was all tefínaghen—“tefínagh rurret.”]

[Footnote 93: The form Aisou, in Mr. Richardson’s Journal, is only a clerical error.]

[Footnote 94: Mr. Richardson calls it Takeesat.]

[Footnote 95: I regret that I neglected to inquire what was the original Góber name of this place; for, while there cannot be any doubt that it received its present name, Máket-n-ikelán, from this transaction, it is very probable that it was a place of ancient pagan worship, and as such had a name of its own. It is very significant that the neighbouring plain is emphatically called “the plain of Aïr,”—in the Arabic form, “shʿabet el Ahír.”]

[Footnote 96: This name too is pronounced Ta_r_hajít.]

[Illustration: DR. BARTH’S TRAVELS IN NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA Sheet No. 6. MAP OF THE ROUTE from TÍDIK TO TÁGELEL 27. August 1850 to 10. Jany. 1851

Constructed and drawn by A. Petermann.

Engraved by E. Weller, _Duke Strt. Bloomsbury._

_London, Longman & Co._]

CHAP. XIII.

INHABITED BUT DANGEROUS FRONTIER-REGION.

The sensations of our guides and camel-drivers had been uneasy from the very moment of our encamping; and Mr. Richardson, at the suggestion of Ánnur, had on the preceding day sent Émeli and Mokhammed in advance, in order to bring to us the chief of Fade-ang. This person was represented to us as a man of great authority in this lawless country, and able to protect us against freebooting parties, which our guests of the other day, who had gone on in advance, were sure to collect against us. But Mokhammed, as I have observed above, was a great rascal himself, who would do all in his power to increase our difficulties, in order to profit by the confusion. The chief was accordingly reported as being absent; and a man who was said to be his brother was to take his place. This person made his appearance, accompanied by some people from the village; but it became immediately apparent that he had no authority whatever, and one of the Imghád of Tádomat, who had stuck to us for the last two days, in order to show us what respect he had for this man, struck him repeatedly with his spear upon the shoulder. Among the companions of our new protector was a Taleb of the name of Buhéda, distinguished by his talkativeness and a certain degree of arrogance, who made himself ridiculous by trying to convince us of his immense learning. What an enormous difference there was between these mean- looking and degraded half-castes and our martial pursuers, who stood close by! Though I knew the latter could and would do us much more harm than the former, I liked them much better.

Overweg and I had sat down in the shade of a talha-tree at a little distance from our tent, and had soon a whole circle of visitors around us, who in the beginning behaved with some modesty and discretion, but gradually became rather troublesome. I gave them some small presents, such as scissors, knives, mirrors, and needles, with which they expressed themselves well pleased. Presently came also several women, one with the characteristic features called in Temáshight “tebúllodén,” which may be translated by the words of Leo, “le parti di dietro pienissime e grasse,” and another younger one mounted upon a donkey.

The whole character of these people appeared very degraded. They were totally devoid of the noble and manly appearance which the most careless observer cannot fail to admire even in a common Tarki freebooter; and the relation between the sexes appeared in a worse light than one would expect in such a situation as this. However, we have ample testimony in ancient Arabian writers that licentious manners have always prevailed among the Berber tribes on the frontier of the desert; and we found the same habits existing among the tribe of the Tagáma, while not only Ágades but even the little village of Tintéllust was not without its courtesans. This is a very disheartening phenomenon to observe in so small a community, and in a locality where nature would seem peculiarly favourable to purity and simplicity of manners. The names of some of these Tághajít beauties—Telíttifók, Tatináta, and Temétilé—are interesting for the character of the language.

We were anxious to buy some of the famous Aïr cheese, for which we had been longing the whole way over the dreary desert, and had kept up our spirits with the prospect of soon indulging in this luxury; but we were not able to procure a single one, and our endeavours to buy a sheep or a goat were equally fruitless. Instead of the plenty which we had been led to expect in this country, we found nothing but misery. But I was rather surprised to find here a very fine and strong race of asses.

We were tolerably composed, and reclining at our ease (though our weapons were always at hand), when we were a little alarmed by a demand of six riyals for the use of the pond in Jínninau. Our amiable but unenergetic friend Ánnur seconded the demand, by way of satisfying in some way the intruders upon our caravan. These claims were scarcely settled when a dreadful alarm was raised, by the report that a body of from fifty to sixty Mehára were about to attack us.

Though no good authority could be named for this intelligence, the whole caravan was carried away by excitement, and all called out for powder and shot. Bóro Serki-n-turáwa once more delivered eloquent speeches, and exhorted the people to be courageous; but many of the Tinýlkum, very naturally, had a great objection to come to open hostilities with the Tawárek, which might end in their being unable to travel any longer along this route.

In this moment of extreme excitement Khweldi arrived, the chief merchant of Múrzuk, whom we had not expected to see, though we knew that he was on his way from Sudán to the north. We were in a situation wherein he was able to render us the most material service, both by his influence upon the individuals of whom our caravan was composed, and by his knowledge of the country whose frontier-territories we had just entered. But unfortunately, though a very experienced merchant, he was not a practical, sharp-sighted man; and instead of giving us clear information as to the probable amount of truth in the reports, and what sort of difficulties we might really have to encounter, and how by paying a sort of passage-money to the chiefs we might get over them, he denied in private the existence of any danger at all, while openly he went round the whole caravan extolling our importance as a mission sent by a powerful government, and encouraging the people to defend us if we should be in danger. In consequence of his exhortations the Tinýlkum took courage, but had the imprudence and absurdity to supply also the three intruders with powder and shot, who, though protesting to be now our most sincere friends, of course made no other use of the present than to supply their band with this material, which alone gave us a degree of superiority, and constituted our security.

Any one accustomed to look closely at things could not be at all satisfied with the spirit of our caravan, notwithstanding its noise and waste of powder, and with its entire want of union; but the scene which followed in the bright moonlight evening, and lasted throughout the night, was animating and interesting in the extreme. The whole caravan was drawn up in a line of battle, the left wing being formed by ourselves and the detachment of the Kél-owí who had left their own camping-ground and posted themselves in front of our tent, while the Tinýlkum and the Sfaksi formed the centre, and the rest of the Kél-owí, with Bóro, the right wing, leaning upon the cliffs, our exposed left being defended by the four pieces of the boat. About ten o’clock a small troop of Mehára[97] appeared, when a heavy fusillade was kept up over their heads, and firing and shouting were continued the whole night.

Our situation remained the same the whole of the following day; and it became very tedious, as it prevented us from making excursions, and becoming acquainted with the features of the new country which we had entered. Another alarm having been raised in vain, the leaders of the expedition which was collecting against us came out, with the promise that they would not further molest the caravan if the Christians were given up to them. This demand having been at once rejected, we were left in tolerable tranquillity for a while, as the freebooters now saw that in order to obtain their object, which was plunder, they should be obliged to bring really into the field the whole force they had so long boasted of.

Khweldi paid us another visit in the afternoon; and as he wanted to make us believe that there was really no danger in this country, so he did not fail to represent the state of things in Sudán as the most favourable we could have wished for. He also sought to sweeten over any remnant of anxiety which we might have, by a dish of very delicious dates which he had received from his friend Háj Beshír in Iferwán, and which gave us a favourable idea of what the country before us was able to produce. Altogether Khweldi endeavoured to be agreeable to everybody; and on a later occasion, in 1854, when I was for some time without means, he behaved towards me in a very gentleman-like manner. In his company was a brother of our quiet and faithful servant Mohammed from Gatrón, who was now returning home with his earnings.

Not being able to refrain wholly from excursions, I undertook in the afternoon to visit the watering-place situated up a little lateral nook of the valley, adorned with very luxuriant talha-trees, and winding in a half circle by S.E. to N.E. First, at the distance of about a mile, I came to a hole where some of the Tinýlkum were scooping water; and ascending the rocky bed of the occasional torrent, I found a small pond where the camels were drinking; but our faithful friend Músa, who was not at all pleased with my having ventured so far, told me that the water obtained here did not keep long, but that higher up good water was to be found in the principal valley.

I had from the beginning attentively observed the character and proceedings of Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, and feared nothing so much as his intrigues; and at my urgent request, Mr. Richardson to-night made him a satisfactory present as an acknowledgment of the courage which he had lately shown in defending our cause. Of course the present came rather late; but it was better to give it now, in order to avert the consequences of his intrigues as much as possible, than not at all. Had it been given two months ago, it might have saved us an immense deal of difficulty, danger, and heavy loss.

[Sidenote: Saturday, August 24th.]

We left at length our camping-ground in Tághajít, and soon passed Khweldi’s encampment, which was just about to break up.

Rocky ground, overtopped by higher mountain-masses or by detached peaks, and hollows overgrown with rich vegetation, and preserving for a longer or shorter time the regular form of valleys, succeed by turns, and constitute the predominant feature of the country of Asben. But instead of the fresh green pasture which had delighted and cheered us in some of the northern valleys, the herbage in some of those which we passed to- day was quite dry.

Early in the afternoon we encamped in the valley Imenán[98], a little outside the line of herbage and trees, on an open spot at the southern foot of a low rocky eminence. The valley, overgrown as it was with large talha-trees and the oat-grass called bú-rékkeba, of tall, luxuriant growth, was pleasant, and invited us to repose. But before sunset our tranquillity was greatly disturbed by the appearance of five of our well-known marauding companions mounted on camels, and leading six others. They dismounted within less than a pistol-shot from our tents, and with wild ferocious laughter were discussing their projects with the Azkár in our caravan.

I could scarcely suppress a laugh when several of the Tinýlkum came and brought us the ironical assurance that there was now perfect security, and that we might indulge in sound sleep. Others came with the less agreeable, but truer warning, that we ought not to sleep that night. The greatest alarm and excitement soon spread through the caravan. Later in the evening, while our benevolent guests were devouring their supper, Mohammed el Túnsi called me and Overweg aside, and informed us that we were threatened with great danger indeed, these Hogár, as he called them, having brought a letter from Nakhnúkhen, authorizing them to collect people in the territory of the Kél-owí, and there to despatch us in such a way that not even a trace of us should be found, but not to touch us so long as we were within the confines of the Azkár.

I was convinced that this account, so far as it regarded Nakhnúkhen, was an absurd fiction of our persecutors; and I tried to persuade our servant to this effect. When he returned from us to the caravan, a council of war was held, and a resolution passed, that if a number of from twenty to thirty people came to attack us they would undertake to defend us, but if we should be threatened by a more numerous host they would try to make a compromise by yielding up a part of our goods. In consequence of this resolution, all possible warlike preparations were made once more, and Bóro delivered another speech; but it seemed rather irreconcilable with such a state of things, that while we, as well as the Tinýlkum, brought all our camels close to our tents at an early hour, the Kél-owí left theirs out the whole night. Perhaps, being natives of the country, they did not expect that the freebooters would seize their animals.

Be this as it may, great anxiety arose when early in the morning it was found that the camels were gone; and when day broke, our guests of last night, who had stolen away before midnight, were seen riding down from the rocky ridge on the south, and with a commanding air calling the principal men of the caravan to a council. Then followed the scenes which Mr. Richardson has so graphically described.

I will only mention that Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, sword in hand, led us on with great energy. He called me to keep close to him; and I think that now (when we had atoned for the neglect with which he had been treated by us, by assuring him that we were convinced of his high position and influence in the country) he had the honest intention to protect us. Of the Tinýlkum only our faithful Músa and the amiable young Slimán adhered to us, and, of the other people, the Tawáti and Mohammed e’ Sfaksi, although the latter trembled with fear, and was as pale as death; Yusuf Mukni remained behind. Fárreji on this occasion behaved with great courage, and bravely challenged the enemy. What frightened the latter most were the bayonets on our guns, as they saw that, after having received our fire, they would not yet have done with us, but would still have a weapon to encounter at least as formidable as their own spears.

As soon as the enemy had protested that he was only come against us as Christians, all sympathy for us ceased in the caravan. All expected that we would become Moslemín without great difficulty; and our servant Mohammed, when we rejected this condition as an impossibility, immediately relapsed into his ordinary impudence, laughing in our faces because, forsooth, we were so absurd as still to think of some other expedient. This clever but spoiled youngster was a protégé of the British consulate in Tunis.

At length all seemed to be settled. The whole host of the enemy, besides its rich booty, had been treated with an enormous quantity of mohamsa; and we had repeatedly been assured that now we might be certain of reaching the chief Ánnur’s residence without any further disturbance, when the little Ánnur, a man of honest but mild character, came to beg us most earnestly to be on our guard, lest behind the rocks and ridges there might still be some persons in ambush. At length we left this inhospitable place; but we were far from being at ease, for it was clear that there was still a cloud on the horizon, which might easily gather to another storm.

After a short march we encamped in a small valley without pitching our tents. The Merábet who had accompanied and sanctioned the expedition against us was now in our company; and that was thought to be the best means of preventing any further molestation. This man, as I made out afterwards, was no other than Ibrahím Aghá-batúre (the son of Háj Beshír, a well-known and influential person settled in Ferwán, or Iferwán), who, in consequence of these proceedings, was afterwards punished severely by the sultan of Ágades. With Aghá-batúre himself I met accidentally at a later period, in 1853, near Zinder, when he was greatly astonished to see me still alive, notwithstanding all the hardships I had gone through. Bóro, who passed the evening with him in reading the Kurán, treated him hospitably—with Mr. Richardson’s mohamsa.

[Sidenote: Monday, August 26th.]

After a march of three miles and a half, having ascended a little, we obtained a clear view of the great mountain-mass which, lying between Tídik on the north and Tintagh-odé on the west, seems not to be marked with a collective proper name, although it is very often called by the people Mount Absen.[99] But I cannot say whether this name, which is the old Góber name for the whole country called by the Berbers Aïr, belonged originally only to these mountains, or whether it is now given to them merely on account of their being the conspicuous elevation of the country so-named, to people coming from the north; for this, according to the unanimous statement of the Kél-owí, is the frontier of Sudán, to which neither Tághajít nor even Tídik belongs. The Tawárek, it would seem, have no indigenous proper name for Sudán (properly Beled e’ sudán) or Negroland; most of them call it Agús (the south). Nevertheless Tekrúr seems to be an ancient Libyan name for Negroland.

A remarkable peak called Téngik or Tímge towers over this mountain-mass, being, according to the intelligent old chief Ánnur (who ought to be well acquainted with his own country), the most elevated point in the whole country of Aïr. Unfortunately our situation in the country was such that we could not think of exploring this very interesting northern barrier, which must be supposed to possess many beautiful glens and valleys.

But we were still at some distance from these picturesque mountains, and had to cross a very rugged and dreary waste, where, however, we caught sight of the first ostrich as yet seen on our journey. We encamped at length in a shallow valley devoid of any interesting features.

During the night, while I was on the first watch, walking round the encampment of the caravan, it struck me that at one end of it, beyond the Kél-owí, a small party was separately encamped. When I went there the first time, all was quiet; but a little after eleven o’clock (for in general, on such a journey, everyone lies down at an early hour), hearing a noise on that side, and turning thither, I saw two armed Tawárek saddle their mehára, and make off in the gloom of night. From this circumstance I concluded that something was still going on against us; but as it appeared useless to make an alarm, I only took the precaution to put Overweg, who succeeded me on the watch, upon his guard.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, August 27th.]

We started at a very early hour; but fortunately the moonlight was so clear and beautiful that I was not interrupted for a moment in marking down all the features of the country—at least along our route, for our situation was now too precarious to allow of our observing angles to fix the exact position of mountains lying at some distance from us.

The road in general continued rugged for the first six miles, and formed at times very difficult passes; but, notwithstanding these obstacles, the whole caravan kept as close together as possible, and so frustrated the plans of our persecutors, who, as we concluded from the appearance of several Mehára in the distance, intended to attack us on the road, if occasion offered. There are two roads, the easternmost of which passes further on through a remarkable gorge in the mountains, which we had for a long time ahead of us. Here, where we turned off with a westerly deviation, beautiful white marble, but slightly weather-worn on the surface, appeared between the nodules of granite and gneiss, while on our right we had a rocky ridge called Itsa, the crest of which was indented in a most remarkable way. Further on, where for a while we entered on a gravelly soil, the whole ground was covered with fresh footsteps of camels and men; and there was not the least doubt that another host was gathering against us.