Part 25
Having convinced ourselves that the well was dry, and not thinking quarters in a desolate village very safe in such a country, we pursued our march, entering again a dense forest where a great deal of rain seemed to have fallen, so that I was even enabled to water the horse, although the danger from wild beasts could not but be greatly increased by the presence of the aqueous element. After a march of two miles more, the evening being very dark, we thought it more prudent to halt for the night; we therefore chose a small place free from wood, put our luggage, camel, horse, and sheep in the middle, and assigned to each of ourselves one of the corners, where we were to keep up a fire. We had, however, scarcely begun to look around the neighbourhood for dry firewood, when the tumultuous cries of wild beasts broke forth from different quarters of the dense forest; and I was obliged to fire some shots before we were able to light a moderate fire, when, throwing the firebrands before us as we proceeded, we were enabled to collect a tolerable quantity of dry wood. However, it was with some difficulty that I prevailed upon my young and inexperienced companions to make up their minds to keep alternate watches during the night, and keep up the fires, more especially as, on account of a north-east wind which sprung up about midnight, the wood was rapidly consumed.
I had prudently provided myself with a number of cartridges, when I was suddenly startled by the rushing in of two hyænas, which seemed to have silently approached under cover of the wood, and almost succeeded in carrying off our sheep. But one of them paid with its life for its audacity; and now throwing firebrands, then firing a shot, we succeeded in keeping the wild beasts at a respectful distance during the remainder of our restless halt here.
Early in the morning we arose in order to pursue our march, when, on removing our luggage, we found five scorpions under our leather bags; they had, most probably, been attracted by the heat of our fires, as in general this animal is not so frequent after the ground has been wetted by the rains. As we proceeded, the forest became clearer, and my Shúwa lad called my attention to the curious circumstance that the “díb,” which is very frequent in these regions, always deposits its excrements on the clean white spot of an ant-hill. The rain appeared to have been very considerable; and about a mile further on we passed a good sized pond, and a little further another of still larger size, producing all around a profusion of grass of the richest verdure. The soil here consisted of hard clay, and the vegetation was varied; but gradually the forest was succeeded by extensive cultivation, which announced our approach to a considerable place.
I had been well aware myself that we had left the road to Jógodé a long distance on our right; but I was greatly annoyed when I heard from the people who met us on the path that this village was Kókoroché, the very place which we had passed on our road from Mélé to Búgomán. Convinced, therefore, that I should be obliged to touch once more at the former village, I had a sad foreboding that I should meet with some unpleasant occurrence, and that it might not be my destiny to leave this country as yet. However, I made up my mind, and prepared myself for whatever might happen.
The country assumed a more genial aspect; and we reached a very extensive sheet of water, apparently of considerable depth, and adorned all around by fine spreading trees. Numbers of women were proceeding from the neighbouring village to fetch water. Having provided ourselves with a supply, we proceeded onwards, and halted in the shade of a fine “hájilíj,” in sight of the village. Numbers of cattle and asses were seen all around, and testified to the prosperity of the inhabitants. Kókoroché is an important place in the economy of this country; for it is this place, together with Búgomán, which furnishes the capital with the greatest supply of millet.
Determined to put a bold face upon matters, I ordered my people to slaughter the sheep, and made myself as comfortable as possible, spreading my carpet, damaged as it was by the ants in Bákadá, upon the ground, and assuming the appearance of being quite at my ease. At that time I was not aware that in this country none but the sultan and a few high dignitaries were allowed to sit on a carpet. While the meat was cooking on the fire, and holding out the promise of some unwonted luxury, I received a visit from the father-in-law of Gréma ʿAbdú, my host in Mústafají; and his appearance and hints confirmed my unfavourable anticipations. I related to him what had happened to me since I left him,—that the governor of Búgomán had refused to receive me into his town, and that I had remained eighteen days in Bákadá, waiting in vain for an order to be allowed to enter the capital. I showed him my carpet, and told him how it had been half devoured by the ants, and how we had suffered from want of sufficient food and shelter in the beginning of the rainy season. He was very sorry that I had not been treated with more regard; but he expressed his opinion that the lieutenant-governor would not allow me to leave the country in such a way.
Unfortunately this man was not open enough to confess to me that messengers from the capital had already arrived; neither did the bíllama, or rather “gollennánge” or “gar,” as he is here called—the head man of the village, who arrived with a numerous host of people just as I was about to start—give me any hint about it. Whether he came with the intention of keeping me back, and was afraid of executing his design, I do not know. In any case it would have been far more agreeable to me, if my fate had been decided here instead of at Mélé. As it was, he sent one of his people with me to show me the track to the river; and I started about an hour after noon.
Considerable showers, which had fallen here seven days previously, had changed the dry character of the country, and revived its luxuriant nature. The whole district presented the cheerful aspect of spring. Fresh meadow-lands spread out; and we passed some extensive sheets of water, bordered by undulating banks in the freshest verdure. We passed several villages, among which one called Mái-Dalá, was distinguished by its neat appearance, most of the huts having been recently thatched, to protect them against the rains. In the forest which intervened, dúm- bushes and dúm-palms, here called “kolóngo,” attracted my attention, on account of the wide range this plant occupies in Central Africa, while it was erroneously believed to belong exclusively to Upper Egypt. Having passed the shallow water of Ambusáda, where numbers of the blue- feathered bird here called “dellúk,” with red feet, were splashing about, we again approached the inauspicious village where I had first set my foot in this country.
Here also, during the short time I had been absent, a great change had taken place. The ground was being cleared, in order to prepare it for the labours of the rainy season; and the bushes and trunks of trees were burnt, in order to render the soil more productive by means of the fertilizing power of the ashes. We had not before passed so closely to the river; and I was astonished at the immense size of the ant-hills, which were not of the ordinary kind, such as they are seen in general, rising in steep conical peaks, but rather like those which I had seen near the Bénuwé—but of larger proportions and rising to an elevation of from 30 to 40 feet, and sloping very gradually, so that their circumference at the base in some cases measured more than 200 feet. The village itself had meanwhile changed its character, owing to the number of new huts which had been erected on account of the approach of the rainy season, and the old ones having received a new thatching. All these new structures consisted of reed and matting; but nevertheless it had a neat and cheerful appearance. As I entered the village, I was saluted by the inhabitants as an old acquaintance, and pitched my tent quietly on the former spot.
[Sidenote: April 19th.]
This was a memorable day to me, destined to teach me a larger share of stubborn endurance. Having passed a quiet night, I began early to speak to the head man of the village about crossing the river, making him at the same time a small present. In Bagírmi also, as well as in Logón and other parts of Negroland, there is a separate officer for the river- communication. This officer, who in Bagírmi bears the title of alífa-bá (“kemán-komádugubé” or “officer of the river”), has an agent or kashélla in every village on the banks of the river where there is a ferry; and this agent was absent at the time. Meanwhile I was conversing with several of my former friends, and, among others, met an inhabitant of Jógodé, who regretted extremely that I had missed my road to that place, as I should have been well treated there, and forwarded on my journey without obstacle, almost all of the inhabitants being Kanúri. The governor of that place, who, like that of Moító, bears the title of “alífa,” had left, as this man informed me, in order to join the sultan on the expedition.
While I was thus conversing, the head man of the village suddenly came to my tent, and informed me that messengers had arrived from the lieutenant-governor, in order to prevent my proceeding; and upon his asking me what I intended to do, I told him that I would divide the time which I should be obliged to wait between this place, Jógodé, and Klésem, but that, if I should be compelled to wait too long, I should feel rather inclined to return to Logón. They rejected my proposal, and requested that I should stay in Mélé, saying that the inhabitants of the village had promised to supply me with rice and fish, and that I ought not to stir from here. While I was quietly expostulating with him upon this treatment, telling him that this was almost impossible, the place being too badly provided, and that they might at least allow me to remain half the time in the neighbouring village of Klésem, gradually more and more people entered my tent, and, suddenly seizing me, put my feet in irons.
Perhaps the unexpectedness of such an occurrence was rather fortunate; for if I had in the least divined their purpose, I might have made use of my arms. But taken by surprise and overpowered as I was, I resigned myself in patience, and did not speak a word. The people not only carried away my arms, but also all my luggage; and, what grieved me most, they even seized my chronometer, compass, and journal. Having then taken down my tent, they carried me to an open shed, where I was guarded by two servants of the lieutenant-governor.
After all this trying treatment, I had still to hear a moral lecture given me by one of these half pagans, who exhorted me to bear my fate with patience, for all came from God.
Even my servants at first were put in irons; but when they protested that if they were not set at liberty I should have nobody to serve me, their fetters were taken off, and they came faithfully to me to soothe my misfortune. In the evening the slave of the alífa-bá mounted my horse, and, taking one of my pistols with him, rode off to Más-eñá.
Having remained silently in the place assigned to me till the evening, I ordered my servants to demand my tent back, and to pitch it in the old place; and to my great satisfaction my request was granted. Thus I passed the four following days quietly in my tent, and, although fettered like a slave, resigned to my fate. Fortunately I had Mungo Park’s first journey with me; and I could never have enjoyed the account of his sufferings among the Ludamar (Welád-Ammer) better than I did in such a situation, and did not fail to derive from his example a great share of patience.
It was in this situation that, while reflecting on the possibility of Europeans civilizing these countries, I came to the conclusion that it would be absolutely necessary, in order to obtain the desired end, to colonize the most favourable tract of the country inclosed by the Kwára, the Bénuwé, and the river Kadúna, and thus to spread commerce and civilization in all directions into the very heart of the continent. Thus I wrote in my journal: “This is the only means to answer the desired end; everything else is vain.”
[Sidenote: April 23rd.]
While lying in my tent in the course of the evening, my friend from Bákadá, Háj Bú-Bakr Sadík, arrived on my horse, and, being seized with indignation at the sight of my fetters, ordered them to be taken off without delay. I begged him to forgive me for having regarded myself as a free man, and not as a slave, not being aware of the real nature of my situation in this country. He, however, praised my conduct very highly, saying that I could not have acted otherwise than I did, and promising that I should now enter the capital without further delay of any kind.
Remaining cool and quiet under the favourable change of my circumstances, I thanked Providence for having freed me from this unpleasant situation, regarding it in the light of a useful lesson for future occasions. All my property was restored to me, even my arms, with the exception of the pistol which had been taken to the capital. However, the following day I had still to resign myself to patience, the chief servant of the lieutenant-governor not having yet arrived, and my horse, which had made the journey to the capital and back with great speed, wanting a little rest.
[Sidenote: Sunday, April 25th.]
Early in the morning we entered upon our march once more, in an easterly direction; and although I had not yet experienced very kind treatment in this country, I was prepared to endure everything rather than to forego seeing the capital; but my poor servants were very differently disposed, for, having no mental interest, they felt the material privations more heavily. While they viewed with horror our projected journey eastward, they cast a melancholy look on the opposite bank of the river, which promised them freedom from privation as well as from vexation.
It was now for the fourth time that I was passing along the banks of the stream. It was at present at its very lowest (“bá nedónge,” as the Bagírmi people say), having sunk a foot or two since I first saw it, and having laid bare a much larger part of the sandbank. People in Europe have no idea of the situation of a solitary traveller in these regions. If I had been able to proceed according to my wishes, my road, from the very first moment when I entered the country, would have lain straight along the course of this mighty river towards its sources; but a traveller in these countries is no better than a slave, dependent upon the caprice of people without intelligence and full of suspicion. All that I could expect to be able still to accomplish, under present circumstances, was to obtain distinct information concerning the upper course of the river; for, ardent as had been my desire to join the sultan on his expedition, from all that I had seen I could scarcely expect that the people would allow me to go to any distance.
Our march the first day was rather short, for, having rested almost six hours, during the heat of the day, in a village called “Káda-bákaláy,” we went only three miles further, when we encamped in another village called “Káda-márga,” recently built, where the inhabitants of the deserted village of the same name, which on our return-journey from the capital we passed in the forest, had taken refuge. The village had a neat appearance, there being even a dyeing-place or “búkko alínbe;” it was also enlivened by several tame ostriches. The well, with a depth of from ten to twelve fathoms, contained a rich supply of water, but of bad quality.
The next day we made up for our loss of time, and only stopped for the night, about a couple of miles beyond Bákadá; for, notwithstanding my esteem for Bú-Bakr Sadík, I refused to make any stay in, or even to enter the place where I had been kept back so long a time. The wooded wilderness had become prepared by the rains to receive its temporary inhabitants the Shúwa; and the well of Bákadá, for the use of which I had been obliged to pay so many needles, was left to decay.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, April 27th.]
We set out early in the morning, in order to reach at length the final object of our journey before the heat of the day. The country was well cultivated; and the fields of native corn were here also laid out in ridges, or “derába.” Trees were scattered in all directions, principally talha and hájilíj. The soil consisted of sand, but was succeeded further on by clay, forming several large basins, where, later in the rainy season, extensive ponds are formed. Here the country was enlivened by fine tamarind-trees, besides a few specimens of the dúm-palm. We then entered a district rich in herbage, and well adapted for cattle- breeding. Shúwa and Felláta foreigners were living here (as they generally do) together on friendly terms, as the similarity of the manners of these two distinct tribes, notwithstanding their different origin and totally distinct language, has brought them everywhere into the closest connection, and has facilitated in a remarkable manner the spreading of the latter race over so large an extent of Central Africa. The huts of these cattle-breeders are very different from those of the native settlers, being far more spacious, in order to admit the cattle, and having the roofs thatched in a very light and negligent manner, as they usually change their dwelling-places with the season, and therefore do not choose to bestow much labour upon them.
As we were proceeding onwards we suddenly obtained a view over a green open depression clad with the finest verdure, and interspersed with the ruins of clay houses. This, then, was Más-eñá, the capital. It presented the same ruined appearance as the rest of the country.
The town was formerly much larger; and the wall had been carried back, but it was still far too large for the town, and in the utmost state of decay. Ruined by a most disastrous civil war, and trodden down by its neighbours, the country of Bagírmi seems to linger till it is destined either to rise again, or to fall a prey to the first invader.
However, I was not allowed to enter the holy precinct of this ruined capital without further annoyance; for, being obliged to send a message to the lieutenant-governor, announcing my arrival, I was made to wait more than an hour and a half outside the gate, although there was not the least shade. I was then allowed to make my humble entrance. Only a few human beings were to be seen; and open pasture-grounds extended to a considerable distance, principally on the right side towards the south. We then entered the inhabited quarter; and I was lodged in a clay house standing in an open courtyard, which was likewise fenced by a low clay wall. The house contained an airy front room well suited to my taste, and four small chambers at the back, which were certainly not very airy, but were useful for stowing away luggage and provisions.
I had scarcely taken possession of my quarters, when numbers of people came to salute me on the part of the lieutenant-governor; and a short time afterwards a confidential slave of his made his appearance, to whom I delivered my presents, consisting of a piece of printed Manchester cotton sufficient for a tobe, an Egyptian shawl, several kinds of odoriferous essences, such as “makhbíl,” the fruit of a species of _tilia_, “lubán” or benzoin, and a considerable quantity of sandal-wood, which is greatly esteemed in the countries of Negroland east of Bórnu. While delivering these presents, and presenting my humble compliments, I declared myself unable to pay my respects personally to the lieutenant- governor, unless he restored my pistol, which was all that was wanting of the things which had been taken from me at Mélé; and after some negotiation, it was agreed upon that he should deliver to me the pistol as soon as I presented myself, without my even saying a word about it.
I therefore went in the afternoon with Bú-Bakr to see him, and found a rather affable man, a little beyond middle age, simply dressed in a dark-blue tobe, which had lost a good deal of its former lustre. Having saluted him, I explained to him how improper treatment and want of sufficient food had induced me to retrace my steps, after having convinced myself that I was not welcome in the country; for I assured him that it was our utmost desire to be friends with all the princes of the earth, and to make them acquainted with us, and that, although I had known that the ruler of the country himself was absent, I had not hesitated in paying them a visit, as I had been given to understand that it would be possible to join him in the expedition. He excused his countrymen on the ground that they, not being acquainted with our character, had treated me as they would have done a person belonging to their own tribe who had transgressed the rules of the country. He then restored me my pistol before all the people, and desired me to await patiently the arrival of the sultan.
The ruler of the country, together with the principal men, being absent, the place presented at that time a more quiet or rather dull appearance than it does in general; and when I took my first walk through the town, I was struck with the aspect of solitude which presented itself to the eye on all sides. Fortunately there was one man in the town whose society and conversation were a relief to my mind.