Part 27
At noon the wood, which was rather more than half a mile in breadth, formed one continued and unbroken cluster of thicket in the most picturesque state of wild luxuriance, while further on, where it became a little clearer of underwood, the ground was covered with a sort of wild melon; but my friend the blacksmith, who took up one of them and applied his teeth to it, threw it away with such a grimace, that I rather suspect he mistook a colocynth, “jan-gunna,” for a melon, “gunna.” Numbers of the _Asclepias gigantea_, which never grows on a spot incapable of cultivation, bore testimony to the fertility of the soil, which was soon more clearly demonstrated by a small corn-field still under cultivation. Traces of former cultivation were evident on all sides. There can scarcely be the least doubt that these valleys, which were expressly left to the care of the degraded tribes or the Imghád, on condition of their paying from the produce a certain tribute to their masters, once presented a very different aspect; but when the power of the ruler of Ágades dwindled away to a shadow, and when the Imghád, who received from him their kaid or governor, “tágaza,” ceased to fear him, preferring robbery and pillage to the cultivation of the ground, these fine valleys were left to themselves, and relapsed into a wilderness.
We encamped at an early hour in the afternoon near the watercourse, but did not succeed in obtaining water by digging, so that we could not even cook a little supper. Further down the valley there had been a copious supply of water; and we had passed there a numerous caravan of asses near a large pool; but my companions, who were extremely negligent in this respect, would not then lay in a supply. Several Tawárek, or rather Imóshagh and Imghád, encamped around us for the night, and thus showed that we were approaching a centre of intercourse.
Owing to our want of water, we started at a very early hour, and, ascending gradually, after a little more than three miles, reached the height of the pebbly plateau on which the town of Ágades has been built. After having received several accounts of this naked “hammáda” or “ténere” stretching out to the distance of several days, I was agreeably surprised to find that it was by no means so dreary and monotonous as I had been led to expect, forming now and then shallow depressions a few feet only lower than the pebbly surface, and sometimes extending to a considerable distance, where plenty of herbage and middle-sized acacia were growing. The road was now becoming frequented; and my companions, with a certain feeling of pride, showed me in the distance the high “Mesállaje,” or minaret, the glory of Ágades. Having obtained a supply of water, and quenched our thirst, to my great astonishment we proceeded to encamp at half-past seven in the morning in one of these shallow hollows; and I learnt that we were to stay here the whole day till near sunset, in order to enter the town in the dark.
We were here met by two horsemen from Ágades (the son of the kádhi, and a companion), who, I suppose, had come out on purpose to see us. They had a very _chevaleresque_ look, and proved highly interesting to me, as they were the first horsemen I had seen in the country. The son of the kádhi, who was a fine, tall man, was well-dressed in a tobe and trowsers of silk and cotton; he carried only an iron spear besides his sword and dagger, but no shield. But, for me, the most interesting part of their attire was their stirrups, which are almost European in shape, but made of copper. Of this metal were made also the ornaments on the harness of their horses; their saddles also were very unlike what I had yet seen in these countries, and nearly the same as the old Arab saddle, which differs little from the English.
While encamped here, I bought from Hamma a black Sudán tobe, which, worn over another very large white tobe or shirt, and covered with a white bernús, gave me an appearance more suited to the country, while the stains of indigo soon made my complexion a few shades darker. This exterior accommodation to the custom of the natives, my friend Hámma represented as essential for securing the success of my undertaking; and it had, besides, the advantage that it gave rise to the rumour that the sultan of Ágades himself had presented me with this dress.
At length, when the sun was almost down, and when it was known that the Kél-gerés and Itísan (who had come to Ágades in very great numbers, in order to proceed on their journey to Bílma after the investiture of the new sultan) had retreated to their encampments at some distance from the town, we started, and were soon met by several people, who came to pay their compliments to my companions. On entering the town, we passed through a half-deserted quarter and at length reached the house of Ánnur, where we were to take up our abode. But arriving in a new place at night is never very pleasant, and must be still less so where there are no lamps; it therefore took us some time to make ourselves tolerably comfortable. But I was fortunate in receiving hospitable treatment from our travelling companion ʿAbd el Káder, who being lodged in a chamber close to mine, sent me a well-prepared dish of kuskusu, made of Indian corn. I could not relish the rice sent by one of Ánnur’s wives, who resides here, owing to its not being seasoned with any salt, a practice to which I became afterwards more accustomed, but which rather astonished me in a country the entire trade of which consists in salt.
Having spread my mat and carpet on the floor, I slept well, in the pleasing consciousness of having successfully reached this first object of my desires, and dreaming of the new sphere of inquiry on which I had entered.
[Footnote 137: It is an obvious mistake to derive this name, which is written اصُطِه and اصوطِه, though the former is the more correct form and is evidently of sub-Libyan origin, from the Arabic word اسود (black).]
[Footnote 138: See Gesenius, s. v. “abel;” and compare Porter, Five Years in Damascus, vol. i. p. 264.; Stanley, Sinai and Palestine, pp. 405. 485.]
[Footnote 139: I have noticed in my memorandum-book also, that I saw here the first túji; but what “túji” means I am at present unable to say.]
[Footnote 140: Ebn Khaldún, texte Arabe, tom. i. p. 265.; Ebn Batúta, Journal Asiatique, 1843, p. 233.]
[Footnote 141: At the moment I am revising this, I am happy to state that the slave-trade is really abolished.]
[Footnote 142: I trust my readers will approve of my using the expression Western Negroland to denote the countries from Fúta as far as Sókoto; Middle Sudán, or Central Negroland, from Sókoto to Bagírmi; and Eastern Negroland, comprising Wadäy, Darfúr, Kordofán, and Sennár. However, here, when I say that Mohammed ben ʿAbd el Kerím introduced Islám into Central Negroland, I exclude Bórnu, where the Mohammedan religion is much older.]
[Footnote 143: He may have been born in Telemsán; but at least from very early youth he was settled in Tawát.]
[Footnote 144: E’ Soyúti’s full name is Abu’l Fadhl Jelál e’ dín ʿAbd e’ Rahmán el Khodaíri e’ Soyúti.]
[Footnote 145: This name may be connected with the Sónghay or Sónrhay; the Awelímmiden, at least, call the Sónghay people Ehétane.]
[Footnote 146: This tree has nothing in common with the _Adansonia_, with which it has been supposed to be identical.]
CHAP. XVII.
ÁGADES.
Early in the morning the whole body of people from Tawát who were residing in the place, ʿAbd el Káder at their head, paid me a visit. The Tawátíye are still, at the present time (like their forefathers more than 300 years ago), the chief merchants in Ágades; and they are well adapted to the nature of this market, for, having but small means, and being more like pedlars or retail dealers, they sit quietly down with their little stock, and try to make the most of it by buying Negro millet when it is cheap, and retailing it when it becomes dear. Speculation in grain is now the principal business transacted in Ágades, since the branches of commerce of which I shall speak further on, and which once made the place rich and important, have been diverted into other channels. Here I will only remark, that it is rather curious that the inhabitants of Tawát, though enterprising travellers, never become rich. Almost all the money with which they trade belongs to the people of Ghadámes; and their profits only allow them to dress and live well, of which they are very fond. Till recently, the Kél-owí frequented the market of Tawát, while they were excluded from those of Ghát and Múrzuk; but at present the contrary takes place, and, while they are admitted in the two latter places, Tawát has been closed against them.
Several of these Tawátíye were about to return to their native country, and were anxiously seeking information as to the time when the caravan of the Sakomáren, which had come to Tin-téllust, intended to start on their return-journey, as they wished to go in their company. Among them was a man of the name of ʿAbdallah, with whom I became afterwards very intimate, and obtained from him a great deal of information. He was well acquainted with that quarter of the African continent which lies between Tawát, Timbúktu, and Ágades, having been six times to Ágades and five times to Timbúktu, and was less exacting than the mass of his countrymen. The most interesting circumstance which I learnt from them to-day was the identity of the Emgédesi language with that of Timbúktu,—a fact of which I had no previous idea, thinking that the Háusa language, as it was the vulgar tongue of the whole of Ásben, was the indigenous language of the natives of Ágades. But about this most interesting fact I shall say more afterwards.
When the Tawátíye were about to go away, Ámagay, or Mággi, as he is generally called, the chief eunuch of the sultan, came; and I was ordered by my Kél-owí companions, who had put on all their finery, to make myself ready to pay a visit to the sultan. Throwing, therefore, my white heláli bernus over my black tobe, and putting on my richly- ornamented Ghadámsi shoes, which formed my greatest finery, I took up the letters and the treaty, and solicited the aid of my servant Mohammed to assist me in getting it signed; but he refused to perform any such service, regarding it as a very gracious act on his part that he went with me at all.
The streets and the market-places were still empty when we went through them, which left upon me the impression of a deserted place of by-gone times; for even in the most important and central quarters of the town, most of the dwelling-houses were in ruins. Some meat was lying ready for sale; and a bullock was tied to a stake, while numbers of large vultures, distinguished by their long naked neck, of reddish colour, and their dirty-greyish plumage, were sitting on the pinnacles of the crumbling walls ready to pounce upon any kind of offal. These natural scavengers I afterwards found to be the constant inhabitants of all the market-places, not only in this town, but in all the places in the interior. Directing our steps by the high watch-tower, which, although built only of clay and wood, yet, on account of its contrast to the low dwelling-houses around, forms a conspicuous object, we reached the gate which leads into the palace or fáda, a small separate quarter with a large irregular courtyard, and from twenty to twenty-five larger and smaller dwellings. Even these were partly in ruins; and one or two wretched conical cottages built of reeds and grass, in the midst of them, showed anything but a regard to cleanliness. The house, however, in which the sultan himself dwelt proved to have been recently repaired, and had a neat and orderly appearance; the wall was nicely polished, and the gate newly covered in with boards made of the stem of the dúm-tree, and furnished with a door of the same material.
We seated ourselves apart on the right side of a vestibule, which, as is the case in all the houses of this place, is separated from the rest of the room by a low balustrade about ten inches high, and in this shape [Illustration]. Meanwhile Mággi had announced us to his Majesty, and, coming back, conducted us into the adjoining room, where he had taken his seat. It was separated from the vestibule by a very heavy wooden door, and was far more decent than I had expected. It was about forty or fifty feet in every direction, the rather low roof being supported by two short and massive columns of clay, slightly decreasing in thickness towards the top, and furnished with a simple abacus; over which one layer of large boards was placed in the breadth, and two in the depth of the room, sustaining the roof formed of lighter boards. These are covered in with branches, over which mats are spread, the whole being completed with a layer of clay. At the lower end of the room, between the two columns, was a heavy door giving access into the interior of the house, while a large opening on either side admitted the light.
[Illustration]
ʿAbd el Káderi, the son of the sultan el Bákiri, was seated between the column to the right and the wall, and appeared to be a tolerably stout man, with large benevolent features, as far as the white shawl wound around his face would allow us to perceive. The white colour of the lithám, and that of his shirt, which was of grey hue, together with his physiognomy, at once announced him as not belonging to the Tawárek race. Having saluted him one after the other, we took our seats at some distance opposite to him, when, after having asked Hamma some complimentary questions with regard to the old chief, he called me to come near to him, and in a very kind manner entered into conversation with me, asking me about the English nation, of which, notwithstanding all their power, he had, in his retired spot, never before heard, not suspecting that “English powder” was derived from them.
After explaining to him how the English, although placed at such an immense distance, wished to enter into friendly relations with all the chiefs and great men on the earth, in order to establish peaceable and legitimate intercourse with them, I delivered to him Ánnur’s and Mr. Richardson’s letters, and begged him to forward another letter to ʿAlíyu, the sultan of Sókoto, wherein we apologised for our incapability, after the heavy losses and the many extortions we had suffered, of paying him at present a visit in his capital, expressing to ʿAbd el Káder, at the same time, how unjustly we had been treated by tribes subject to his dominion, who had deprived us of nearly all the presents we were bringing with us for himself and the other princes of Sudán. While expressing his indignation on this account, and regretting that I should not be able to go on directly to Sókoto, whither he would have sent me with the greatest safety in company with the salt-caravan of the Kél-geres, and at the same time giving vent to his astonishment that, although young, I had already performed journeys so extensive, he dismissed us, after we had placed before him the parcel containing the presents destined for him. The whole conversation, not only with me, but also with my companions, was in the Háusa language. I should have liked to have broached to him the treaty at once; but the moment was not favourable.
On the whole, I look upon ʿAbd el Káder as a man of great worth, though devoid of energy. All the people assured me that he was the best of the family to which the sultan of Ágades belongs. He had been already sultan before, but, a few years ago, was deposed in order to make way for Hámed e’ Rufäy, whom he again succeeded; but in 1853, while I was in Sókoto, he was once more compelled to resign in favour of the former.
While returning with my companions to our lodging, we met six of Bóro’s sons, among whom our travelling companion Háj ʿAli was distinguished for his elegance. They were going to the palace in order to perform their office as “fadáwa-n-serkí” (royal courtiers), and were very complaisant when they were informed that I had been graciously received by his Majesty. Having heard from them that Bóro, since his return, had been ill with fever, I took the opportunity to induce my followers to accompany me on a visit to him.
[Illustration]
Mohammed Bóro has a nice little house for a town like Ágades, situated on the small area called Erárar-n-sákan, or “the place of the young camels.” It is shown in the accompanying sketch. The house itself consists of two stories, and furnishes a good specimen of the better houses of the town; its interior was nicely whitewashed. Bóro, who was greatly pleased with our visit, received us in a very friendly manner, and when we left accompanied us a long way down the street. Though he holds no office at present, he is nevertheless a very important personage, not only in Ágades, but even in Sókoto, where he is regarded as the wealthiest merchant. He has a little republic of his own (like the venerable patriarchs) of not less than about fifty sons with their families; but he still possesses such energy and enterprise, that in 1854 he was about to undertake another pilgrimage to Mekka.
When I had returned to my quarters, Mággi brought me, as an acknowledgment of my presents, a fat large-sized ram from ʿAbd el Káder, which was an excellent proof that good meat can be got here. There is a place called Aghíllad, three or four days’ journey west from Ágades[147], which is said to be very rich in cattle. On this occasion I gave to the influential eunuch, for himself, an aliyáfu, or subéta,—a white shawl with a red border. In the afternoon I took another walk through the town, first to the erárar-n-sákan, which, though it had been quiet in the morning, exhibited now a busy scene, about fifty camels being offered for sale, most of them very young, and the older ones rather indifferent. But while the character of the article for sale could not be estimated very high, that of the men employed in the business of the market attracted my full attention.
They were tall men with broad coarse features, very different from any I had seen before, and with long hair hanging down upon their shoulders and over their face, in a way which is an abomination to the Tawárek; but upon inquiry I learnt that they belonged to the tribe of the Ighdalén, or Éghedel, a very curious mixed tribe of Berber and Songhay blood, and speaking the Sónghay language. The mode of buying and selling, also, was very peculiar; for the price was neither fixed in dollars, nor in shells, but either in merchandise of various description, such as calico, shawls, tobes—or in Negro millet, which is the real standard of the market of Ágades at the present time, while during the period of its prime, it was apparently the gold of Gágho. This way of buying or selling is called “kárba.” There was a very animated scene between two persons; and to settle the dispute it was necessary to apply to the “serki-n-káswa,” who for every camel sold in the market receives three “réjel.”
[Illustration]
From this place we went to the vegetable-market, or “káswa-n- delélti[148],” which was but poorly supplied, only cucumbers and molukhia (or _Corchorus olitorius_) being procurable in considerable plenty. Passing thence to the butchers’ market, we found it very well supplied, and giving proof that the town was not yet quite deserted, although some strangers were just gathering for the installation of the sultan, as well as for the celebration of the great holiday, the ʿAid el kebír, or Salla-léja. I will only observe that this market (from its name, “káswa-n-rákoma,” or “yóbu yoëwoëni”) seems evidently to have been formerly the market, where full-grown camels were sold. We then went to the third market, called Katánga, where, in a sort of hall supported by the stems of the dúm-tree, about six or seven women were exhibiting on a sort of frame a variety of small things, such as beads and necklaces, sandals, small oblong tin boxes such as the Kél-owí wear for carrying charms, small leather boxes of the shape here represented, but of all possible sizes, from the diameter of an inch to as much as six inches. They are very neatly made in different colours, and are used for tobacco, perfumes, and other purposes, and are called “botta.” I saw here also a very nice plate of copper, which I wanted to buy the next day, but found that it was sold. A donkey-saddle, “ákomar,” and a camel- saddle or “kíri,” were exposed for sale. The name “Katánga” serves, I think, to explain the name by which the former (now deserted) capital of Yóruba is generally known, I mean Katúnga, which name is given to it only by the Háusa and other neighbouring tribes.
I then went, with Mohammed “the Foolish” and another Kél-owí, to a shoemaker who lived in the south-western quarter of the town, and I was greatly surprised to find here Berbers as artisans; for even if the shoemaker was an Ámghi and not a free Amóshagh (though from his frank and noble bearing I had reason to suspect the latter), at least he understood scarcely a word of Háusa, and all the conversation was carried on in Uraghíye. He and his assistants were busy in making neat sandals; and a pair of very handsome ones, which indeed could not be surpassed, either in neatness or in strength, by the best that are made in Kanó, were just ready, and formed the object of a long and unsuccessful bargaining. The following day, however, Mohammed succeeded in obtaining them for a mithkál. My shoes formed a great object of curiosity for these Emgédesi shoemakers; and they confessed their inability to produce anything like them.
On returning to our quarters we met several horsemen, with whom I was obliged to enter into a longer conversation than I liked, in the streets. I now observed that several of them were armed with the bow and arrow instead of the spear. Almost all the horses are dressed with the “karaúrawa” (strings of small bells attached to their heads), which make a great noise, and sometimes create a belief that a great host is advancing, when there are only a few of these horsemen. The horses in general were in indifferent condition, though of tolerable size; of course they are ill fed in a place where grain is comparatively dear. The rider places only his great toe in the stirrup, the rest of the foot remaining outside.