Part 20
The town presented an appearance of the utmost decay, only a few dwellings remaining in the centre of it; and the only remarkable objects were two palm-trees, one of which I had already observed from without: and I now assured myself that they were not date-trees, but belonged to the fan-shaped group of palms. But they were not bifurcated, and seemed not to belong to the _Cucifera Thebaïca_, nor were they identical with the deléb-palm. At any rate they were the tallest specimens which I ever remember to have seen of the fan-shaped tribe, their height appearing more extraordinary on account of the small tuft of leaves, which was confined to the very top. The town itself presenting no very interesting features, I went out in the afternoon, and lay down for an hour or two, in the shade of one of those beautiful fig-trees which, fed by a large and deep swamp, surround the town on all sides; but, the more pleasant was my day’s repose, the more disagreeable was my night’s rest, for, owing to these stagnant pools, the town is full of mosquitoes, and neither I myself nor any of my companions were able to get any sleep the whole of the ensuing night.
We therefore rose very early in the following morning, long before day- break, and at four o’clock had already left the gate of the town behind us. There is still a great deal of cultivation of cotton to be seen, even in the present state of decay to which this province is reduced; but an immense deal more might be cultivated. Then followed fields of sorghum; and further on, the lowing of cattle and the cackling of hens indicated the presence of a Shúwa village at some distance on our left. Cultivated ground and forest alternately succeeded each other, the wild hog being seen in every direction, while numerous villages were lying about here and there, but at present all deserted, the inhabitants, who belong to the Shúwa, migrating during the dry season towards a large shallow watercourse in the south-west, where they find fresher pasture- grounds for their cattle. This watercourse or ngáljam is famous under several names, being called Bawísh, Madéf, and Burbéde. We then passed on our left the town Úlluf, Húlluf, or Hélib, surrounded by a high clay wall, and almost hidden behind wide-spreading fig-trees, just as is the case with Kála. This town, the name of which is pronounced “Elf” by the Arabs, and of the origin of which they give very absurd accounts, is ill-famed for the presumed witchcraft and sorcery of its inhabitants; and this was the only reason which prevented my companions from staying here during the heat of the day.
We therefore continued our march; and, having passed another swamp, entered a well-cultivated district, where a great deal of sorghum was grown. I was however surprised at seeing the stacks of grain, or, as they are called in Kanúri, bágga argúmbe, still standing in the fields.
We encamped a little beyond the temporary village of Sheikh el Khasés, close to an extensive sheet of water, under the shade of a beautiful tamarind-tree. This piece of water, as the people assured me, only dries up annually for a short time, when the rainy season again fills it. All these native Arabs, as I have already had occasion to remark, are very inhospitable; and the people here, where we had encamped, did not offer us any refreshment. However I succeeded in buying from them a little honey, for a few needles.
When we started again in the afternoon, we had great difficulty in avoiding the swamps. The country at times was well cultivated, producing, besides sorghum, a quantity of beans of the speckled kind; but I was not a little astonished to see, in the midst of the stubble- fields, young crops of that variety of sorghum called “másakuwá.” This is a very rare sight in these countries in the month of March, as in general this winter corn is got in during December or January. We then entered a forest, and, following a winding path, reached the rather considerable village Múnke, which belongs to Logón, but is inhabited chiefly by Kanúri. Here I pitched my tent in the market-place, and was not a little pestered by numbers of inquisitive people.
[Sidenote: Saturday, March 13th.]
The country through which we passed as we drew nearer the capital of Logón, was of a rich and fertile character, but insufficiently cultivated. Besides grain, there was a great deal of cotton; and numbers of trees of various species gave it a charming appearance, the beautifully rich foliage of several of them relieving entirely the monotony which is usual in these Central African forests. Amongst the underwood the dúm-bush was predominant; gradually, however, the “harás” or “karáge” tree began to prevail. The pods of this tree, which contain the seeds, are not only much liked by camels, but also by monkeys and hogs, both of which seemed to be very numerous, and lived together in the greatest harmony. Numerous holes of the earth-hog (_Orycteropus Æthiopiensis_) were likewise to be seen.
We met a number of native travellers and people going to market, who saluted us in a cheerful manner, and bore testimony to the fact that we were drawing near a larger place; and the neighbourhood of the town was still further indicated by women who had come out to gather wood for the supply of the market. Here I was agreeably surprised to see again my noble old acquaintance of the Músgu country, the deléb-palm or “uray.” At first a single specimen appeared towering with its proud fanlike foliage over the numerous karáge-trees that still continued to retain their predominant position in the vegetable kingdom; but when the clayey soil gave way to sand, a large group met the eye, in close array, and full of fruit. It was, however, entirely limited to this locality, and I did not meet another specimen between this place and the town.
When we arrived in sight of the wall, my horseman changed his dress, and put on a new glittering black Núpe tobe, in order to make his entrance with greater _éclat_, while I was not a little pleased to meet again here some travelling companions of mine, in whose company I had crossed the Bénuwé on my journey to Ádamáwa, and who were once more on their way to the east. We then entered the capital of Logón—Logón Bírni, or Kárnak Lóggon, as it is called by the Shúwa, or Kárnak Lógone or Lóggene, as it is called by the Kanúri. The town on this side (the north-western) has only one gate; and it was so narrow that we were obliged to unload the camel before we were able to pass through. The energy and activity of this place is naturally concentrated on the eastern side towards the river, where it has seven gates.
The interior of the town, where we entered it, had not a very animated appearance. The cottages, belonging evidently to the poorer classes of people, are in a wretched condition; and the only animation which the scenery presented was due to a group of dúm-palms, towering over this poor quarter from the north side. The character of the place improved, however, as we advanced; the streets were tolerably large, and I was struck with the appearance of the principal street, or déndal, which is formed by the palace of the sultan or míyará, towards the south, and the house of the Keghámma or Ibálaghwán, towards the north.
The entrance to the palace of the sultan—the “raána míyará” in the kélakú Logón or language of Logón,—is towards the east, where there is an open square, shaded by a few trees; here I was obliged to wait a long time on horseback, while my quarters were getting ready, for etiquette did not allow me to dismount. The sun was very powerful, and my situation not exactly pleasant; but it afforded me some amusement to observe the flights of falcons and other birds, who were nestling in the top of a group of tall dúm-palms which towered above the walls of the mosque opposite the palace.
I had also the pleasure of recognizing an old friend of Major Denham’s, namely, Belál, the man who accompanied him as well on his expedition to the Shárí as to Kánem. This man, whose real name was Mʿadi, and who was an extremely amiable and good-humoured personage, with a disposition akin to the character of Europeans, continued my friend during the remainder of my stay in Bórnu. His errand here at present was to collect the annual tribute which the ruler of the country of Logón has to pay to the sheikh of Bórnu.
The quarters assigned to me were situated in the upper story of the palace of the Ibálaghwán, which surprised me not a little by the superior and even grand style of its architecture. This very spacious palace consists of a number of wings inclosing small quadrangular courtyards, and having an upper story of extensive apartments. The only part which did not correspond with the magnificence of the rest of the building, was the staircase, which was rather dark and inconvenient. My own apartment was not less than thirty-five feet long, by fifteen wide, and as many high, and received sufficient light from two semicircular windows, which, of course, had no glass, but could be closed by means of a shutter of reed. The ceiling was gable-shaped—rather a remarkable phenomenon in these countries; it was filled out with thatchwork.
But not only were my quarters excellent, but the treatment I received also was hospitable in the extreme; for I had scarcely taken possession of my lodgings when a bowl of very excellent pudding made its appearance. The thievish propensities of the people of Logón are very remarkable; and the first intimation which I received of it was an official caution given to me to beware of the slaves of my house.
Having recruited my strength a little, I went with Kashélla Mʿadi to pay my compliments to the Ibálaghwán or Keghámma. We found him in the apartment marked _a_ in the ground-plan. At first he was invisible, sitting behind his matting curtain, “parpar” or “farfar,” which the Háusa people, in humorous mood, call by the name of “munáfekí” (the sinner), and which is made of a fine species of reed-grass; but he soon allowed me to approach him. He was a tall, elderly man, of a cheerful disposition, and smiling countenance, with nothing in his behaviour to intimate that he was not a free-born man; and certainly his position was an eminent one, as he was the second person in this little kingdom, and held an office corresponding to that of a prime minister or vizier. His name is Herdége. Having made him a small present for himself, which was rather insignificant, but which, as it consisted of a quantity of articles, seemed to satisfy him, I showed him the present I intended to make to his master. Poor as I was at the time, and destitute of means, I had determined to give away my Turkish trowsers, of very fine brown cloth, which I had scarcely ever worn, in order to pave my way in advance; for besides this article I had only some small trifles to give, such as shawls, knives, scissors, frankincense, and a few spices. The keghámma having approved of my present, I immediately went with Mʿadi Belál to pay my respects to the sultan, or rather Míyará himself.
The palace of the sultan is a very extensive building surrounded by a wall fourteen feet in height, and corresponding to the height of the house of the keghámma.
The public part of the building consists of very large courtyards, separated from each other by covered apartments. In the first courtyard, marked _a_ on the ground-plan, in a sort of shed, the eunuchs (or, as the people of Logón say, the “bille-melágem”) were assembled. I was not a little surprised to find here two cannons of iron, certainly of not very good workmanship, and very old, but furnished with frames. Having waited here some time, till my arrival was announced, I proceeded to another antechamber, marked _b_, the whole of the building looking very neat and orderly. The courtyard probably measured not less than one hundred feet in length, by about thirty feet in width. Having then traversed another antechamber and courtyard of about the same dimensions, we reached the public court of audience, furnished with a raised platform, on which stood the royal throne,—a rough kind of seat covered with a baldachin of planks, and painted red. The sultan however, at present, was not here, but was sitting in his private room _e_, behind a matting curtain; and I was desired to address him without seeing him. I therefore paid him my compliments, addressing Kashélla Mʿadi in Kanúri, and he interpreting what I said into the language of the country. I begged to inform the Míyará that the sultan Inglíz, who, during the reign of the former chief of Logón (the míyará Sále), had sent Khalílu (Major Denham), had now instructed me to pay my respects to him. He was greatly delighted at this compliment, and inquired repeatedly after the health of the sultan of the nasára Inglíz. Having made use of the opportunity afforded by the matting of observing me without being himself observed, and seeing that I was something like a human being, and evidently of an innoxious kind, and the present having been carried into his presence, he called me inside his room, saluted me in a very friendly manner, and shook hands with me. He then begged me to explain to him the presents, taking extreme delight in the articles of English manufacture, including even the large darning needles; for, small and insignificant as these articles were, he had never seen their like. He even counted the needles one by one, and assigned them their respective owners in the harím. The principal favour which I had to beg of him was to allow me to navigate the river to some distance; and having granted my request, he dismissed me very graciously.
On the next page are ground-plans of the houses of the sultan and keghámma.
[Illustration:
A. HOUSE OF SULTAN.—_a._ Great Courtyard. _b._ Second Courtyard, about 100 feet long by 30 wide. _c._ Third Courtyard. _d._ Inner Courtyard, with shed and throne. _e._ Room of Sultan. _f._ Stabling.
B. HOUSE OF KEGHÁMMA.—1. Large Court. 2. Staircase leading to the upper apartments. 3. Courtyard. 4. Second Courtyard. 5. Room of Keghámma, with two couches, that in the background being raised above the floor.
6. Shed built of mats and poles in front of the palace.
7. Caoutchouc-tree.
8. Mosque or “Dabáldemá,” shaded by some fan-palms, or as the people of Logón say, “gurúru.”]
Yúsuf, or, as the people of Logón say, Ýsuf (this is the name of the present sultan), is a tall, stout, and well-built man, apparently about forty years of age, with large features and a rather melancholy expression of countenance, which I attribute to his peculiar and precarious political situation, being the ruler of a small kingdom placed between two predominant neighbours, who harass him incessantly. He has been sultan about nineteen years, and was a young man at the time of Denham’s visit, when his father Sále and his elder brother ʿAbd el Kerím shared or rather disputed the government with each other. He had two more elder brothers of the names of Chiróma and Marúfi, both of whom died before him. Just at or shortly before the beginning of his reign, as it would seem, owing to an expedition into the country by Dáúd, one of the war-slaves of the sheikh Mohammed el Kánemí, Logón became a tributary province of Bórnu, being subjected to an annual tribute of one hundred slaves, and the same number of shirts or tobes. Previous to that time, the ruler of this little country is said to have made an annual present of only two slaves.
Our treatment was hospitable in the extreme; and it seemed almost as if our host had a mind to kill us with excess of kindness, for in the evening he sent us four enormous bowls of well-prepared pudding of sorghum, together with meat and broth, and early the next morning a large bowl of gruel seasoned with honey, and a few moments afterwards three or four bowls of hasty-pudding. Fortunately there were people enough to consume this plenteous supply of food; for there was a large party of Bagírmi people returning to their country from Kúkawa, and to them I gave up these luxuries, but afterwards they repaid my kindness with ingratitude. Being desirous of having a look at the town, I sallied forth in the afternoon with a well-mounted trooper, who was attached to my friend Kashélla Mʿadi, by the western gate, and then turning round towards the east, proceeded in the direction of the river.
At this corner the river bends away from the wall to the distance of about an English mile, being from 350 to 400 yards across; the western shore was low at this point, but on the opposite side it rose to the height of from 12 to 15 feet. It was enlivened by about 40 or 50 boats, most of them about 4 feet at the bottom, and 6 feet at the top, and remarkable for their formidable prows. All these boats are built in the same way as those of the Búdduma, with this exception, that the planks consist of stronger wood, mostly bírgim, and are generally of larger size, while those of the Búdduma consist of the frailest material, viz. the wood of the fógo. The joints of the planks are provided with holes through which ropes are passed, overlaid with bands of reed, and are tightly fastened upon them by smaller ropes, which are again passed through small holes stuffed with grass. Their elevated prow seems to indicate the shallowness of the water as well as the vehemence of the current which in certain seasons of the year sweeps down the river, and which I experienced on my return when it was full. At present, the water was rather shallow, and several sand banks were to be seen. My principal attention was attracted by the fishing boats, which were furnished with large nets suspended from the poop by two immensely long poles, called “the two hands,” “músko ndí,” by the Kanúri people, and “sémi” by the people of Logón.
We then continued along the shore, which becomes gradually more and more compressed between the wall and the river. Where the latter approaches nearest the wall there are corn-fields, which are continually irrigated from the river. The stalks of the corn at present were 1½ foot high. As I have observed in another place, wheat has only recently been introduced into Negroland, and wherever a little is grown it is only known by the Arabic name “el kámeh.” The generality of the inhabitants do not relish it, but it is esteemed a princely food. Of course, corn is also dearer where it does not grow spontaneously, the tropical rains being too powerful for the tender plant, so that it can only be grown in the dry or rather the cold season, near the rivers or swamps, by artificial irrigation.
Delighted with the view which the scenery of the river exhibited, we reached the most eastern gate on the south side of the town, when suddenly an old man with an imperious air forbade me to survey the river, and ordered me to retrace my steps directly. I was rather startled and confounded, as, having the permission of the sultan, I could not imagine who besides himself had such authority in the place, and could forbid me to do what he had allowed me; but my companion informed me that he was the king of the waters, the “maráleghá,” and that he had full command over the river or “lagham.” I had heard and read a great deal of the authority of the king of the waters, the “serkí-n-rúwa,” in the countries on the Niger, but I was not aware that a similar custom prevailed here. Confused, and rather ashamed, I re- entered the town through the next gate.
Close to this gate was the house of the Ghaladíma, or Malághwán; and I was induced to pay him a visit. He seemed to be rather an effeminate person, living in a dark and well-perfumed room. The visit was of no other interest than that it gave me some further insight into the ceremonial of the court of this little kingdom, the very existence of which was denied by so eminent a man as M. Fresnel a few years ago.[26]
The first thing I did on returning to my quarters was to expostulate with the keghámma on the authority exercised by his colleague, the king of the waters; and he promised me that the next day I should visit the river, and even navigate it, without the least hindrance. However, there was so much talk in the town about my surveying the stream, that I was obliged in the course of the afternoon to pay the vizier another visit. He was very anxious to know whether if once embarked in a boat upon the water I might not jump out in order to search for gold; when I told him I was rather afraid of the crocodiles. This expression of my fear contributed a great deal to alleviate his suspicions, for it seemed that until then he had supposed Europeans to be a sort of supernatural beings, and exempt from every kind of fear.
Our treatment was hospitable in the extreme,—so much so that two hundred persons might have feasted upon the dishes that were sent to me. But besides all these dishes of native food, my hospitable host sent for my own private consumption a large fat sheep, and an enormous jar of milk. This very splendid treatment, however, created a great deal of jealous and envious feeling in the breasts of those Bagírmi people whom I have before mentioned, although they themselves reaped the greatest benefit from the liberality of the sultan towards me. From what I observed, I think I may draw the conclusion that it is the general policy of the ruler of this little tributary kingdom to treat his guests well, and certainly it is a wise one; but I dare say I was especially favoured by the sultan.
[Sidenote: March 15th.]
With extreme delight I had cherished the plan of navigating the river, although, of course, from the very beginning I could not expect to achieve great things, for the means which were at my disposal at the time did not allow me to overcome any serious obstacles which might be thrown in my way; but besides this, the authority of this little prince of Logón extends only a short distance along the shores of the river.
At eight o’clock I was aboard of my little boat or “wöam.”[27] I thought that I should have got one of the largest size; but none was to be obtained. The boat, however, which was finally assigned to me, though measuring only twenty-five feet in length by about four feet in the middle, was tolerably strong, the planks of which it consisted being recently sewn and stuffed in the way above described; but, of course, this method of shipbuilding is far from rendering the vessel watertight. The boats being without seats, large bundles of reeds are placed at the bottom for the passengers to sit upon, with nothing to prevent them from being drenched with water.