Part 19

While we were winding along the narrow path leading through the forest, the vegetation all at once exhibited an entirely new and very remarkable feature; for here, all on a sudden, I saw a group of perhaps ten or twelve large trees of arborescent _Euphorbiaceæ_. I have mentioned small specimens of euphorbia, on my journey through Dámerghú, and even in Háusa; but I had afterwards almost entirely lost sight of it in Negroland. Here, however, this plant grows to a height of certainly not less than from thirty to thirty-five feet, its succulent, luxuriant, cactus-like leaves contrasting in a very remarkable manner with the monotonous and dry vegetation of the mimosas around. There must be something very peculiar in the soil in this tract; for I never afterwards, in the whole of my travels, beheld the euphorbia attain to such an altitude, the greatest height which I saw it reach being twenty feet. This was in the country of Músgu, in an entirely isolated instance; and even on the journey to Bagírmi I did not meet with a single specimen of this plant, however small.

Proceeding through a part of the forest which exhibited a fresher appearance, and which was enlivened by a troop of horsemen whom we met, we reached the village of Dábuwa at five o’clock in the afternoon. Here we were hospitably received, in consequence of the persuasive manners of my cheerful companion Kágo, while the apish grimaces of the trooper who formed my official escort were quite disregarded. Poultry, milk, and negro corn were given to us for our supper in the evening. In this place the people are not so badly off for water, the well measuring not more than five fathoms.

[Sidenote: Sunday, March 7th.]

When we started, we entered a very dense part of the forest (“karága tsílim,” as the Kanúri say), with a rich variety of trees, but all of middle size, and not a single tamarind- or monkey-bread tree was to be seen. As we proceeded, however, the country became a little more open, the “karága tsílim” giving way to the “dírridé,” or clear forest, and signs of cultivation were seen. Here I observed that the clayey soil, or “ánge,” was intersected by small ridges, in order to retain the water, during the rainy season, for the cultivation of the másakuwá. Cotton also seemed to be cultivated to some extent. In this district too the villages contained a mixed population of Shúwa and Kanúri. The village Gujári, which we passed further on, was distinguished by an extensive pottery. Here the road was enlivened by a numerous caravan of pack-oxen laden with grain, on their way to Díkowa, the town described on my expedition to the Músgu country; for, as I have there stated, the cultivation of that place is almost entirely limited to cotton, while all the corn which is required for the consumption of the inhabitants is imported. The cotton is not carried by beasts of burden, but on the heads of the natives; and a little further on we met a numerous train of these people, whose appearance imparted some idea of industry. Passing on our road many patches of that black boggy soil, called “fírki” or “ánge,” which I have described on a former occasion, we reached the small village of Hókkum at about half-past eight in the morning.

We had expressly chosen this road in order to avoid the wells of bitter water in the village Jémage, which lies on the southern road; but here we fared worse, for there was no water at all in the village, and we had to send to a great distance to get a small supply, the quality of which was anything but agreeable. This scarcity of water, however, seemed to arise only from the laziness of the inhabitants; for the wells are not more than three fathoms deep, and the floods of the lake themselves occasionally approach so near that it has been found necessary to protect the village on its north side by a dyke. Here we passed the heat of the day in the shade of a kórna-tree, the fruit of which, being just ripe, in want of some better indulgence, we did not despise.

I was greatly surprised to observe here that salt is obtained by burning the dung of cattle. It is indeed very remarkable how the poorer people in Negroland endeavour to supply their want of this article, which in every stage of society has become such an essential ingredient of common diet.

About half an hour after starting in the afternoon, we reached a considerable watercourse, which, bordered by fine spreading trees, had a very pleasant appearance. It is called Komádugu Ímbulú, or Mbulú. This watercourse was asserted by my companion Kágo to be entirely distinct from the Yálowe, or komádugu of Díkowa; and from the experience I had on my return-journey I think he was correct. The banks of the watercourse were twelve feet high; its breadth was from twenty to twenty-five yards; but the depth of the water was only a foot and a half. No current was then perceptible. The trees of the forest, after we left this watercourse, were of a greater variety, but all of rather stunted growth. We observed here great quantities of the grass called kréb or kashá, which I have before mentioned, and which constitutes a considerable part of the food of the poorer inhabitants. We passed several towns in a state of the utmost decay and entirely deserted; and traversing a dense underwood, which we scarcely expected to see in the neighbourhood of a large town, reached at five o’clock the clay walls of Ngála.

The interior of this town has a very peculiar character, and nothing similar to it is seen in any part of Negroland, although the place at present is in a great state of decay; for all the ancient quarter of the town consists of clay houses, built on an imposing and elevated terrace. The palace of the governor is indeed something quite stupendous for these regions, having, with its immense substructure, and its large and towering walls, the appearance of a large citadel. We were quartered in the extensive mansion of the gedádo or delátu, in which Mr. Tully died; but it, as well as the whole of the town, was in the utmost state of decay. The times of Méram, the beloved wife of the sheikh Mohammed el Amín el Kánemy, had gone by; and the wealth of Ngála had been consumed by the slaves of the present sheikh and his vizier. The once magnificent palace of Méram itself is nothing but a large, desolate heap of ruins.

The quarters, however, which were assigned to me were in a tolerable state of repair, consisting, as they did, of an upper story, which afforded me sufficient protection against the numbers of mosquitoes which infest the place. We remained here the following day, when I went to pay a visit to the governor at his residence; but I felt rather sorry for it, as the good impression which the imposing exterior of the palace had made upon me, was destroyed by the ruinous and desolate state of the interior. The whole province is now in a very neglected condition, such as would indicate that the ruler of the country himself acknowledged his incapability of defending his subjects against another inroad of the Wádáy.

The governor was not a very intelligent man; but it was he who first called my attention to the fact that the town of Ngála has its own peculiar idiom, quite distinct from the Kanúri, and I afterwards found that it is even different from the dialects of the other principal places in the province of Kótokó, though it is very closely related to the idioms spoken by the islanders of the Tsád (the so-called Búdduma, but whose real name is Yédiná) on the one side, and to that of the Músgu on the other. At some distance from Ngála is the town of Ndíffu, or Ndifú, which is said to have been one of the latest strongholds of the tribe of the Soy, or Só, whom I have repeatedly mentioned in my historical sketch of the empire of Bórnu; and sundry remarkable ornaments are said to be dug up frequently in that place.

[Sidenote: Tuesday, March 9th.]

I had seen scarcely any traces of cultivation on the western side of the town; and when we set out again I found as little on the other sides. Nevertheless the environs of Ngála, especially the north-east side, are of great interest in the eyes of the Bórnu people, as having been the scene of two important battles fought with the Bagírmi, in the first of which, in the year of the Hejra 1233, the sultan Dúnama was slain; and my companions, who remembered all the incidents of that struggle, pointed out with patriotic enthusiasm the various positions which each body of the combatants had occupied.

The country, however, became very monotonous, extending in an almost unbounded plain of black argillaceous soil of the description mentioned above, although after the rainy season, when the whole ground has become inundated, it is changed into one vast field of cultivation, producing that peculiar variety of sorghum or holcus which is called másakuwá; but at that season the whole of this country is scarcely passable for horses, and still less so for camels. Several small villages, inhabited by Shúwa, were to be seen at some distance to the south. We lost a great deal of time through having missed our way in a forest of small mimosas which surround this plain, till we at length reached a village called Síttahe, where we rested during the heat of the day. The village consists of two separate groups, one of which contains large conical huts for the rainy season, while the other is formed of light oblong dwellings adapted for the dry season, constructed entirely of mats. Here we were entertained by a mʿallem who had formerly possessed considerable property, but who had suffered greatly from the contributions levied upon him by the slaves of his liege lord. It is these impudent slaves of the court, who, having no interest in the welfare of the inhabitants, inflict so much evil on the country. With regard to the settlements of the Arabs in this district of Kótokó, I think that they are not more than two hundred years old. Most of these Arabs belong to the numerous tribe of the Sálamát.

In the afternoon, after travelling about four miles, we reached the town of Rén. This was formerly a considerable place, but it is now almost deserted, and the wall has fallen to ruins; the aspect of the place, however, is very picturesque,—beautiful and wide-spreading fig-trees shading the ruins of high, well-built clay houses. My quarters were better than I had expected,—an excellently-built hut, provided with all the comfort which such a building is capable of affording; but the comfortable repose which the neat appearance of my hut promised me was greatly disturbed by swarms of mosquitoes, that owe their existence to a large swamp at the northern side of the wall. The town of Rén was formerly the centre of a petty kingdom, but it is at present reduced to utter ruin. Its inhabitants have a peculiar dialect of their own. But although the governor was very eloquent in his description of the misery to which his people were at present reduced, yet he treated me very hospitably.

[Sidenote: March 10th.]

Leaving the swamp abovementioned on one side, we pursued our march through a fertile and well-inhabited district full of open hamlets, while the corn-fields were enlivened with numbers of kórna-trees, at present laden with fruit. I was pleased to see that the inhabitants of this district follow the same custom as the Músgu people, storing their provision of herbage for the dry season on the branches of the trees. All the inhabitants are Arabs, and belong to the tribe called Welád Megébel, whose chief is called Ísa Áshe; the name of the district is Ránganá. At a considerable distance towards the south there is a walled town called Déma, belonging to the sheikh Abba. The Arabs are either cattle-breeders or corn-growers; but further on we saw some cotton under cultivation, after which we again entered upon fírki ground, where my companion called my attention to a new variety of grass called “útutú,” the seeds of which, besides the kréb above-mentioned, constitute a great part of the food of the poorer people of this district.

Dense rows of fine tamarind-trees indicated the neighbourhood of a watercourse, which even at present was of some importance, being about 35 yards broad, and 3 feet 9 inches in depth, but without a perceptible current; a small canoe, however, lying on its border, justified the opinion that occasionally it is not fordable, of which I myself received a proof on my return-journey, when I crossed it lower down, near Legári. This watercourse, which in the rainy season conveys towards the lake a considerable quantity of water, is called Komádugu Lebé. There was formerly a considerable town, called Suló, on the other side of the watercourse; but this at present is deserted, and its ruins are overgrown by thick forest. A little distance further on, the site of another ancient town testified to the former importance of this district. We were now approaching the largest town of Kótokó; but scarcely any signs of industry were to be seen, with the exception of a young plantation of cotton, and thick forest approached close to the wall of the town, which is very extensive, but fast falling to ruins.

The whole interior of the town of Áfadé is one vast heap of rubbish, from which only here and there a building in tolerable repair starts forth, the greatest ornament of the place at present being a most magnificent fig-tree of the species called “búske,” identical, I think, with the tree called duwé by the Arabs near Timbúktu. I scarcely remember ever to have seen such a noble and luxuriant specimen of this family of the vegetable kingdom. Spreading its vast impenetrable canopy of the freshest and most beautiful green over a great part of the square in front of the lofty ruins of the governor’s palace, it formed the chief lounging-place or “fagé” for the idle loiterers in this once industrious and wealthy town.

My quarters, in the upper story of a house, were very tolerable, and, besides being airy, afforded me a view over the nearest part of the town, from whence I had an opportunity of admiring the excellent quality of the clay with which these houses are built. Clay, indeed, seems to have entirely excluded, in ancient times, from the country of Kótokó the lighter buildings of reed and straw; and I observed that even many of the round huts were of considerable elevation, being furnished with a roof of clay, which formed a neat terrace surrounded by a low parapet.

There seems to have been a considerable degree of civilization in former times in this little kingdom of Kótokó, or rather in this group of distinct principalities, the independent character of which is clearly shown by the great diversity of its dialects, which vary with every large town: viz. Klésem, Gulfé and Kúsuri, Mákari and Máfaté, Áfadé, Rén, and Ngála. When we consider that this country is not mentioned among the list of the Negro countries by Ébn Sʿaíd (A.D. 1283) which is preserved by Ébn Khaldún[23], where even the Kúrí are not forgotten, while it is evidently mentioned by Makrízi[24], it appears that it rose into importance in the course of the 14th century. Although we are not able to explain fully the circumstances under which this happened, we may conclude that it was due in some degree to the struggle between the two powerful dynasties of Bórnu and Bulála.

As for the dialect of Áfadé, of which I made a short vocabulary, it appears to form a link between the idiom of the Yédiná[25], the islanders of the Tsád, on the one side, and the Músgu people on the other.

In the province of Áfadé a great proportion of the population consists of Shúwa, principally of the tribes E’ Nejaíme, and Welád Abú Khodhaír. The governor was absent just at the time, on a small expedition to chastise some of these people, who are very unsettled in their habits, and often refractory. Notwithstanding his absence, however, we were very hospitably treated, our supper consisting, besides a sheep, and numerous bowls of Negro corn, of a dish of well-dressed fish, very palatable, from the river Lebé; there was likewise no scarcity of milk.

[Sidenote: March 11th.]

It would certainly have been very interesting to have made a few days’ stay here, in order to obtain a clearer insight into the peculiar characteristics of this province; but as the more distant object of my enterprise did not allow of a longer delay, I pursued my march. All these towns are very inconvenient for travellers, their gates not being large enough for loaded camels to pass through. When we had reached the great road, where the forest is interrupted by a little cultivation of cotton, I saw two beautiful specimens of that species of antelope which is here called “tigdim,” of grey colour and very low in body; I think it is identical with, or nearly related to, the _Antilope annulipes_.

This was the only time I observed this species of antelope during my travels in Negroland. Great numbers of Guinea fowl, such I had never observed before, enlivened the underwood further on, the ground consisting of a hard soil called by the natives kabé, and covered with only a scanty growth of stunted mimosas. I was much interested in observing here the red species of Negro corn, which seems not to be cultivated by the more civilized tribes of Negroland, but which forms the principal food of the pagan races towards the south. Having passed a Shúwa hamlet—berí Shúwabe,—the country became more diversified. A considerable pond, at present dry, and bordered by beautiful trees, spread out on our left, while our right was bordered by the ruins of a large town called Sú, a name which seems to be a remnant of the ancient tribe of the Só or Soy, which formerly ruled over the whole of this region as far as Kála. A poor old woman, incapacitated by age from reaching the market-town, was sitting in front of the ruined wall, offering to the passers-by the little cotton which she had been able to clean. The country is at present in such a state, principally owing to the turbulent spirit of the Shúwa Arabs, that even this road is regarded as unsafe; and we were therefore obliged to keep together, several inhabitants of Logón having attached themselves to my little caravan. The road divides here, the more considerable path leading to the town of Kúsuri, and the smaller southern one, which we followed, leading to Logón bírni, or Kárnak Lógone.

We passed two villages called Debábe Gezáwa and Debábe Ngáya, but the latter of which still bears the very remarkable name of Krénik, and is stated by the inhabitants of the neighbourhood to have been the capital, or one of the capitals, of the once powerful tribe of the Soy. The exact period when this town was destroyed I could not ascertain; but probably it happened during the reign of the great Kanúri king Edrís Alawóma, about the beginning of the seventeenth century. More recently this neighbourhood was saturated with the blood of numbers of Bórnu people, in the sanguinary struggle with their neighbours, the Bagírmi or Bágrimma; and it was in one of these conflicts, near the walled town of Míltam, about forty years ago (A.H. 1232), that the sheikh Mohammed el Kánemí lost his eldest and most-beloved son.

Having watered our animals at a shallow stream, spreading out in the meadow-ground, we continued our march, and about half an hour before noon had to cross a very difficult swamp, with boggy ground, where several of our people stuck fast. The whole of this region is subject to

## partial inundations; but it seems very remarkable that they do not

attain their greatest height in, or at the end of, the rainy season, but several months later; and I found afterwards, when I traversed this country again towards the end of August, in the very height of the rainy season, that not only this but the other swamps were considerably lower than they were in March. This circumstance depends on the peculiar nature of the Tsád, which reaches its highest level in November, when all the waters carried down by the several rivers and torrents have spread over the whole surface of the lagoon, while the loss from evaporation is then much less than during the hot months.

Continuing through a very thick forest full of herds of wild hogs, which seem greatly to delight in these low, swampy, and densely overgrown grounds on either side of the (river) Shárí, and having passed another swamp, and the forest at length clearing, we obtained a sight of the high clay walls of the town of Kála, starting forth from a beautiful grove of fig-trees, and overtowered by a very lofty, but slightly inclined solitary palm-tree.

[Footnote 23: Ébn Khaldún, texte Arabe, vol. i. p. 200.; trad. S. Macguckin de Slane, vol. ii. p. 116.]

[Footnote 24: Makrízi, in Hamaker, Spec. Catal. p. 206., كاتكوا.]

[Footnote 25: I repeat here what I have stated, I think, in another place, that in my opinion the Yédiná are meant by Makrízi’s اتعنا.]

CHAP. XLVII.

PROVINCE OF LOGÓN. — LOGÓN BÍRNI.

Kála is the first town of the territory of Logón or Lógone, the boundary of which we had crossed a short time before. Having entered the town through an extremely narrow gate, which scarcely allowed my bare and slender she-camel to pass through, after having taken from her back the whole load, I was struck with the very different aspect it exhibited from the regions we had just left; for while the dwellings testified to a certain degree of civilization, the inhabitants themselves seemed to approach nearer to the pagans than to the Mohammedans. We had scarcely entered the town when we were surrounded by a troop of boys and young lads from seven to twelve years of age, tall and well built, and in a state of entire nudity, a thing hardly ever seen in the country of Bórnu, even with slaves. The type of their features, however, was very different from the general type observed in the Bórnu people, and seemed to indicate more intelligence and cunning. I have already observed, in the country of Músgu, how the state of the dwellings contrasts with the apparel, or rather the want of apparel, of the people themselves; but here it seemed more remarkable, for the dwellings in general did not consist of round conical huts, but of spacious oblong houses of clay, of considerable elevation. I was quartered in one of these structures, but found it rather close, and full of dust.