Part 22

Mount Kadamméllet with its tapering double peak, at a greater distance in the west, formed an interesting object, while the country was gradually improving. While turning round the lower offshoots of the large mountain-mass which we had now approached, we entered a rather narrow but very rich valley adorned with most luxuriant talha-trees completely enwrapped and bound together by creepers, while the ground was richly clothed with herbage. This is the valley of Tídik; the village of that name, which is situated in a recess of the mountains on our left, remained invisible. It is said to consist of huts formed of a kind of long dry grass, and therefore makes some approach to the fashion of Sudán; these huts are called tághamt, or táramt, by the Southern Imóshagh. But at present the village was desolate, all the inhabitants, the Kél-tídik (people of Tídik) having gone for a while to the fine valleys in the west, which appear to be richer than those to the east.

[Illustration]

Further on we crossed the bed of a considerable torrent, the valley terminating in a narrow passage which, though generally considered as the very entrance into the region of Sudán, led us once more into a desolate rocky district, at times widening to dry hollows. Here Mount Kadamméllet, of which only the double peak had been previously visible, exhibited to us its ample flanks. The country became so extremely rugged that we advanced but slowly; and having here received distinct information which fully confirmed our apprehension of another predatory expedition against us, we marched in order of battle. Thus we reached a pond of rain-water in the narrow rugged hollow Tároï[100], where we filled our water-bags. We found here several donkeys of a remarkably fine breed, belonging to the men who had brought us the news.

[Illustration]

The country beyond this place became more interesting, and even picturesque at times, several fine glens descending one after the other from the beautifully-indented mountains on our left, which now rose into full view, as the off-shoots had gradually receded.

We were only about eight miles from Selúfiet, where we might expect to be tolerably safe; and we had not the least doubt that we were to sleep there, when suddenly, before noon, our old Azkár mádogu Awed el Khér turned off the road to the right, and chose the camping-ground at the border of a broad valley richly overgrown with herbage. As if moved by supernatural agency, and in ominous silence, the whole caravan followed; not a word was spoken.

It was then evident that we were to pass through another ordeal, which, according to all appearance, would be of a more serious kind than that we had already undergone. How this plot was laid is rather mysterious; and it can be explained only by supposing that a diabolical conspiracy was entered into by the various individuals of our caravan. Some certainly were in the secret; but Ánnur, not less certainly, was sincere in our interest, and wished us to get through safely. But the turbulent state of the country did not allow this weak, unenergetic man to attain his object. Blackmail had been levied upon us by the frontier-tribes; here was another strong party to be satisfied, that of the Merábetín or Aníslimen, who, enjoying great influence in the country, were in a certain degree opposed to the paramount authority of the old chief Ánnur in Tintéllust; and this man, who alone had power to check the turbulent spirit of these wild and lawless tribes, was laid up with sickness. In Ágades there was no sultan, and several parties still stood in opposition to each other, while by the great expedition against the Welád Slimán, all the warlike passions of the people had been awakened, and their cupidity and greediness for booty and rapine excited to the utmost pitch. All these circumstances must be borne in mind, in order to form a right view of the manner in which we were sacrificed.

The whole affair had a very solemn appearance from the beginning; and it was apparent that this time there were really other motives in view besides that of robbing us. Some of our companions evidently thought that here, at such a distance from our homes and our brethren in faith, we might yield to a more serious attack upon our religion, and so far were sincerely interested in the success of the proceeding; but whether they had any accurate idea of the fate that awaited us, whether we should retain our property and be allowed to proceed, I cannot say. But it is probable that the fanatics thought little of our future destiny; and it is absurd to imagine that, if we had changed our religion as we would a suit of clothes, we should have thereby escaped absolute ruin.

Our people, who well knew what was going on, desired us to pitch only a single tent for all three of us, and not to leave it, even though a great many people should collect about us. The excitement and anxiety of our friend Ánnur had reached the highest pitch; and Bóro was writing letter after letter. Though a great number of Merábetín had collected at an early hour, and a host of other people arrived before sunset, the storm did not break out; but as soon as all the people of our caravan, arranged in a long line close to our tent, under the guidance of the most respected of the Merábetín as Imám, had finished their Mughreb prayers, the calm was at an end, and the scene which followed was awful.

Our own people were so firmly convinced that, as we stoutly refused to change our religion, though only for a day or two, we should immediately suffer death, that our servant Mohammed, as well as Mukni, requested us most urgently to testify, in writing, that they were innocent of our blood. Mr. Richardson himself was far from being sure that the sheikhs did not mean exactly what they said. Our servants, and the chiefs of the caravan, had left us with the plain declaration that nothing less than certain death awaited us; and we were sitting silently in the tent, with the inspiring consciousness of going to our fate in a manner worthy alike of our religion and of the nation in whose name we were travelling among these barbarous tribes, when Mr. Richardson interrupted the silence which prevailed, with these words:—“Let us talk a little. We must die; what is the use of sitting so mute?” For some minutes death seemed really to hover over our heads; but the awful moment passed by. We had been discussing Mr. Richardson’s last propositions for an attempt to escape with our lives, when, as a forerunner of the official messenger, the benevolent and kind-hearted Slimán rushed into our tent, and with the most sincere sympathy stammered out the few words, “You are not to die.”

The amount of the spoil taken from us was regulated by the sum which we had paid to our Kél-owí escort, the party concerned presuming that they had just the same demands upon us as our companions. The principal, if not the only, actors in this affair were the Merábetín; and Ánnur the chief of Tin-téllust afterwards stated to us that it was to them we had to attribute all our losses and mishaps. There was also just at this period a young sheríf from Medína at Tin-tagh-odé, with whom we afterwards came into intimate relations, and who confessed to us that he had contributed his part to excite the hatred of the people against the Christian intruders. Experienced travellers have very truly remarked that this sort of sherífs are at the bottom of every intrigue. To the honour of Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, I have to state that he was ashamed of the whole affair, and tried to protect us to the best of his power, although in the beginning he had certainly done all that he could to bring us into difficulties.

It was one of the defects of the expedition, that our merchandise, instead of comprising a few valuable things, was for the most part composed of worthless bulky objects, and that it made all the people believe that we were carrying with us enormous wealth, while the whole value of our things scarcely amounted to two hundred pounds. We had besides about ten large iron cases filled with dry biscuit, but which all the ignorant people believed to be crammed with money. The consequence was that the next morning, when all the claims had at length been settled, and we wanted to move on, there was still great danger that the rabble, which had not yet dispersed, would fall upon the rest of our luggage; and we were greatly obliged to the Sfaksi, who not only passed some of our luggage as his own, but also dashed to pieces one of the iron cases, when, to the astonishment of the simple people, instead of heaps of dollars, a dry and tasteless sort of bread came forth from the strong inclosure.

Meanwhile the persecuted Christians had made off, accompanied by some of the Kél-owí; and at length the whole caravan collected together. The valley was here very beautiful, and having crossed some smaller hollows, we reached the fine valley of Selúfiet, rich in trees and bushes, but without herbage; while at the distance of less than a mile on our left, the high peak of the Tímge stood erect. Towards the west the valley forms a deep gap behind a projecting mass of granite blocks; and it was here that I met again my old acquaintance from the Sʿaid and Nubia, the dúm-tree or _Cucifera Thebaïca_, here called gáriba, after the Háusa name góreba. From the Kél-owí I could not learn the proper Berber name of this tree[101]; but the Western Imóshagh call it akóf. Even the _Capparis sodata_ seems to be called, by the Berber conquerors of this country, only by the Háusa name abísga, while their western brethren call it téshak. Besides the _Cucifera_, or fan-palm, there were here also a few isolated specimens of the date-palm.

The village of Selúfiet itself, consisting of sixty or seventy grass huts of peculiar shape, lies on the southern side of a broad valley running here from east to west and richly overgrown with górebas, abísgas, and talha-trees, but without any grass, for which the ground seems too elevated and stony. Our camping-ground also was of this bare character, and not at all pleasing; it was protected in the rear by large buttresses of rock.

We had not yet enjoyed much tranquillity and security; and we here felt its want the more keenly as, our camel-drivers having been hired only as far as this place, we had henceforth to take charge of all our things ourselves. A large mob of lawless people came about us in the course of the night, howling like hungry jackals; and we were obliged to assure them, by frequent firing, that we were on the watch. We had been obliged to leave our camels to the care of the Kél-owí; but the freebooters having succeeded in dispersing the camels in every direction, our friends were unable in the evening to collect either their own animals or ours, and in the night they were all driven away, as we were told, by the Merábetín themselves who so repeatedly assured us of their protection.

In the letters which we sent to Europe during our next day’s halt in this place, by a caravan of Arabs and Kél-owí, the largest part of which was already in advance, we were unable to give a perfectly satisfactory account of our progress; nevertheless we had made a great step in advance, and were justified in hoping that we should be able to overcome whatever difficulties might still await us, and the more so as we were now able to place ourselves in direct communication with the chief of Tintéllust, from whom we might soon expect to receive an escort.

[Sidenote: Thursday, August 29th.]

Some of the stolen camels having been recovered, though fifteen were still wanting, we were enabled to move from this uncomfortable place the next day, leaving behind us, however, the boat and some other things, which were valueless to any but ourselves.

Pleased as we were with our onward movement, we were still more cheered when we observed in the fine valley, which here seems to bear the name Érasa, or rather Érazar[102], some small fields with a fresh green crop of negro millet—a delicious sight to travellers from the desert, and the best assurance that we had entered cultivable regions. The fields or gardens were watered by means of a kind of khattára of very simple construction,—a simple pole with a longer cross pole, to which the bucket is fastened. A little further on, the whole valley was clothed with fine wide-spreading bushes of the abísga or _Capparis_; but it soon narrowed, while we marched straight upon the high pointed peak overtowering Tin-tagh-odé, which forms an interesting object. The valley of Selúfiet seems to have no connection with that of the latter place; at least, the principal branch, along which our route lay, was entirely separated from it by rocky ground. Here a broad gap dividing the mountain-mass allows a peep into the glens formed by the several ridges of which it consists, and which seem to rise to greater elevation as they recede. The slope is rather precipitous; and the general elevation of this mountain-mass seems scarcely less than 3300 feet above the bottom of the valley, or about 5000 feet above the level of the sea.

[Illustration]

We soon descended again from the rocky ground into a hollow plain richly clothed with vegetation, where, besides the abísga, the tunfáfia or _Asclepias gigantea_, which we had entirely lost sight of since leaving Égeri, appeared in great abundance. Here also was a new plant which we had not seen before—the “állwot,” with large succulent leaves and a pretty violet flower. The camels devoured it most eagerly, and, in the whole district of Aïr, preferred it to any other kind of food. It has a great resemblance to the poisonous damankádda, which in Sudán is often the cause of dangerous disease, and even of death, to the camel.

After marching along this valley for two miles, we encamped on an open space encircled with the green spreading bushes of the abísga, a little beyond Tin-tagh-odé, the village of the Merábetín or Aníslimen[103], which is spread in a long line over the low offshoots of the mountain- range, and contains about a hundred light huts, almost all of them being made of grass and the leaves of the dúm-palm, a few only being built of stones.

Small as this village is, it is of very great importance for the intercourse between Central Africa and the northern region beyond the desert; for under the authority of these learned and devout men, commerce is carried on with a security which is really surprising, if regard be had to the wild and predatory habits of the people around. As these Aníslimen belong to a tribe of the Kél-owí, we may infer that their settlement here was contemporaneous with the conquest of the country by the latter tribe,—a conclusion favoured by the narrative of Ebn Batúta, who does not appear to have found any settlements in this quarter.

The Aníslimen, however, though they style themselves “devout men,” have not therefore relinquished all concern about the things of this world, but, on the contrary, by their ambition, intrigues, and warlike proceedings, exercise a great influence upon the whole affairs of the country, and have placed themselves, as I have already mentioned, in a sort of opposition to the powerful chief of Tintéllust. Recently, however, a great calamity had befallen them, the Awelímmiden (the “Surka” of Mungo Park, the dreaded enemies of the Kél-owí) having by a sudden inroad carried away all their camels; and it may have been partly the desire to make use of the opportunity afforded them by the arrival of some unprotected infidels, to repair their losses in some measure, which made them deal so hostilely with us.

As we encamped, the boys of the village hovered around us in great numbers; and while we kept a good look out to prevent their pilfering, we could not but admire their tall, well-formed figures and their light colour,—the best proof that this little clan does not intermarry with the black race. They wore nothing but a leathern apron; and their hair was shorn on the sides, leaving a crest in the middle.

When we had made ourselves somewhat comfortable, we were desirous of entering into some traffic with the people, in order to replace our provisions, which were almost wholly exhausted; but we soon had reason to be convinced how erroneous were the ideas which we had formed from reports as to the cheapness of provisions in this country, and that we should have very great difficulty in procuring even the little that was absolutely necessary. Of butter and cheese we were unable to obtain the smallest quantity, while only very small parcels of dukhn, or gero (millet or _Pennisetum typhoïdeum_), were offered to us, and greatly to our disadvantage, as the articles we had to barter with, such as bleached and unbleached calico, razors, and other things, were estimated at a very low rate. A common razor brought us here ten zekka of millet, worth, according to the estimate of the country, one third of a mithkál, equal to 333 kurdi, or about sixpence-halfpenny. I learnt from Émeli that the Sakomáren, a tribe of Imóshagh possessing large flocks of sheep and even much cattle, bring almost every year a considerable supply of butter to this country, a statement which was soon confirmed by my own experience.

The man just mentioned, who had something extremely noble and prepossessing about him, was about to return to Ghát; and I confided to him a letter for Europe. In all probability this is the letter which was afterwards found in the desert, and was brought by Nakhnúkhen (the chief of the Azkár) himself to Mr. Dickson, Her Majesty’s agent in Ghadámes, who from its fate drew some sinister conclusions as to my own.

Several other people having left us, we remained in tolerable quiet and repose the whole day; but it was reported that the next day, during which we should be obliged to stay here in order to wait for the restitution of our camels, there would be a great concourse of Mehára to celebrate a marriage in the village: but fortunately the immense quantity of rain which fell in the whole of the neighbourhood, and which on the 1st of September changed our valley into the broad bed of a rapid river, placing all our property in the utmost danger, prevented this design from being executed, and, while it seemed to portend to us a new misfortune, most probably saved us from a much greater mischief.

Having just escaped from the dangers arising from the fanaticism and the rapacity of the people, it was a hard trial to have to contend again against an element the power of which, in these border regions of the desert, we had been far from appreciating and acknowledging. We had no antecedents from which to conclude the possibility that in this region a valley, more than half a mile wide, might be turned, in twenty-four hours, into a stream violent enough to carry away the heaviest things, not excepting even a strong, tall animal like the camel; and it was with almost childish satisfaction that, in the afternoon of Saturday, we went to look at the stream, which was just beginning to roll its floods along. It was then a most pleasant and refreshing sight; the next day it became a grand and awful picture of destruction, which gave us no faint idea of a deluge. To the description of the flood itself, as it is given by Mr. Richardson, I shall not add anything; but I have to mention the following circumstances, which seem not to have been placed in their true light.

Half an hour after midday, the waters began to subside, and ceased to endanger our little island, which, attacked on all sides by the destructive fury of an impetuous mountain-torrent swollen to the dimensions of a considerable river, was fast crumbling to pieces, and scarcely afforded any longer space enough to hold our party and our things. Suddenly, on the western shore, a number of Mehára were seen, while at the same time the whole population of Tin-tagh-odé, in full battle-array, came from the other side, and formed themselves in regular groups, partly round our hill, and partly opposite to the Tinýlkum. While we looked with distrust upon these preparations, most of our muskets having been wetted, the mischievous Mokhammed approached our hill and, addressing me with a very significant and malevolent look, cried out, “Lots of people!” The previous afternoon, when I had requested him, while squatting himself insolently upon my carpet, to leave this only piece of comfort for my own use, he threatened me in plain terms, and in the coolest manner, that the following night I should lie on the bottom of the wadi, and he upon my carpet. Not put out by his malice, though I was myself rather doubtful as to the friendly intentions of all these people, I told him that the Mehára were our friends sent by the chief Ánnur as an escort to conduct us safely to Tintéllust. With a threatening gesture he told me I should be sadly disappointed, and went away. Fortunately, it turned out that the people mounted on camels were really Ánnur’s escort; but at the same time a large band of robbers had collected, in order to make a last effort to take possession of our property before we should obtain the protection of Ánnur, and only withdrew reluctantly when they saw that they should meet with a strong opposition.

We were then justified in hoping that we had at length entered a harbour affording us a certain degree of security; and with thankful and gladdened hearts we looked forward to our further proceedings. Our present situation, however, was far from being comfortable: almost all our things were wet; our tents were lying in the mud at the bottom of the stream; and our comfortable and strong, but heavy, Tripolitan tent was so soaked with water and earth, that a camel could scarcely carry it. Leaving at length our ill-chosen camping-ground, Overweg and I, were passing the principal torrent (which was still very rapid), when the camels we rode, weakened by the dreadful situation they had been in the whole day, were unable to keep their feet, and, slipping on the muddy bottom, set us down in the midst of the stream. Soaked and barefoot, having lost my shoes, I was glad to reach in the dark the new encampment which had been chosen on the elevated rocky ground a little beyond the border of the valley. Our beds were in the most cheerless condition, and in an unhealthy climate would certainly have been productive of bad consequences. Aïr, however, in every respect may be called the Switzerland of the desert.

Fortunately the weather on the following morning cleared up, and, although the sun came forth only now and then, a fresh wind was very favourable for drying; and it was pleasant to see one thing after another resume a comfortable appearance. The whole encampment seemed to be one large drying-ground.