Part 4
Overweg and I, accompanied by Khálef-Allah and a guide, made an excursion down the river, in order, if possible, to reach its mouth; but the experiment proved that there is no path on the southern shore, the track following the northern bank: for on that side, not far from the mouth, lies a considerable Kánembú place called Bóso, though, in the present weak state of the Bórnu kingdom, much exposed to the incursions of the Tawárek. Having penetrated as far as a village, or rather a walled town, named Fátse, the walls of which are in a decayed state, and the population reduced to a dozen families, we were obliged to give up our intended survey of the river. As for myself, I was scarcely able to make any long excursion; for, on attempting to mount my horse again, I fainted, and fell senseless to the ground, to the great consternation of my companions, who felt convinced my end was approaching. We therefore returned to our encampment. In the evening I had a severe attack of fever.[6]
[Sidenote: Saturday, Sept. 20th.]
It had been determined the day before that we should cross the river to- day, and the governor’s permission had been obtained; but as the vizier’s messenger had not yet arrived, we decided upon waiting another day. Feeling a little better, I made a rough sketch of the town, with the dúm-palms around it, and prepared myself, as well as I was able, for the fatiguing march before me. We had a good specimen to-day of the set of robbers and freebooters we had associated with in order to carry out the objects of the mission. The small Tébu caravan, which I mentioned above as having arrived from Kánem, and which had brought the news that the people of Wadáy had made an alliance with all the tribes hostile to the Welád Slimán, in order to destroy the latter, had not been allowed to cross the river until to-day. They were harmless people, carrying very little luggage (chiefly dates) upon a small number of oxen; but as soon as they had crossed, our companions held a council, and, the opinion of the most violent having gained the upper hand, they fell upon the poor Tébu, or Kréda, as they call them, and took away all their dates by force. The skins were then divided; and the greater part of them had already been consumed or carried away, when an old Arab arrived, and, upbraiding his companions with their mean conduct, persuaded them to collect what remained, or that could be found, and restore it to the owners. In the evening the vizier’s messenger arrived, and the crossing of the river was definitively fixed for the next day.
[Sidenote: Monday, Sept. 22nd.]
Rose early, in order to get over in time, there being no other means of crossing than two mákara, each consisting of three yokes of calabashes. The camels, as is always the case, being the most difficult to manage, had to cross first; and after much trouble and many narrow escapes (owing principally to the unevenness of the bottom of the valley, the water-channel having formed a deep hollow—at present from ten to eleven feet deep—near the southern shore, while in the middle the bottom rises considerably, leaving a depth of only six or seven feet) they all got safely over, and were left to indulge in the foliage of the beautiful mimosas which embellish the northern border of the river. The horses followed next, and lastly we ourselves with the luggage.
About nine o’clock in the morning I found myself upon the river on my three-yoked “mákara,” gliding through the stream in a rather irregular style of motion, according as the frail ferry-boat was drawn or pushed by the two black swimmers yoked to it. It was a beautiful day, and the scenery highly interesting; but, having been exposed to the sun all the morning, I was glad to find a little shade. When all the party had successively landed, and the heat of the day had abated, we loaded our camels and commenced our march. We were now left entirely to the security and protection which our own arms might afford us; for all the country to the north of the komádugu has become the domain of freebooters, and though nominally sheikh ʿOmár’s dominion stretches as far as Berí, and even beyond that place, nevertheless his name is not respected here, except where supported by arms.
The country through which we were passing bore the same character as that for some miles round the capital; a very stiff, black soil, clothed with short grass and a few trees far between. Having encountered a flock of sheep, our friends gave chase; and after they had laid hold of three fat rams, we decided to encamp.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, Sept. 23rd.]
For the first four hours of our march the character of the surrounding country remained nearly the same; it then opened, and became better cultivated; and soon after we saw the clay walls of Báruwa, though scarcely to be distinguished, owing to the high mounds of rubbish imbedding them on all sides. Near the south-west gate of the town the road leads over the high mound (which destroys entirely the protection the wall might otherwise afford to the inhabitants), and lays its whole interior open to the eyes of the traveller. It consists of closely packed huts, generally without a courtyard, but shaded here and there by a mimosa or kúrna, and affords a handsome specimen of a Central African dwelling-place. The inhabitants, whose want of energy is clearly seen from the nature of the mounds, do not rely upon the strength of their walls; and, to the disgrace of the sheikh of Bórnu, who receives tribute from them, and places a governor over them, they likewise pay tribute to the Tawárek. They belong in general to the Kánembú tribe; but many Yédiná, or Búdduma, also are settled in the town. Their principal food and only article of commerce is fish, which they catch in great quantities in the lake, whose nearest creeks are, according to the season, from two to three miles distant, and from which they are not excluded, like the inhabitants of Ngórnu and other places, on account of their friendly relations with the warlike pirates of the lake. As for corn, they have a very scanty supply, and seem not to employ the necessary labour to produce it, perhaps on account of the insecure state of the country, which does not guarantee them the harvest they have sown. Cotton they have none, and are obliged to barter their fish for cotton strips or articles of dress. Indeed, gábagá or cotton strips, and kúlgu, or white cotton shirts, are the best articles which a traveller, who wants to procure fish for his desert journey by way of Bílma (where dry fish is the only article in request), can take with him.
At the well on the north side of the town, which does not furnish very good water, the horsemen belonging to our troop awaited the camels. Only a few scattered hajilíj (_Balanites Ægyptiaca_) and stunted talha-trees spread a scanty shade over the stubble-fields, which were far from exhibiting a specimen of diligent cultivation; and I was very glad when, having taken in a small supply of water, we were again in motion. We soon left the scanty vestiges of cultivation behind us, and some bushes of the siwák (_Capparis sodata_) began to enliven the country. At eleven o’clock, having mounted a low range of sand-hills, we obtained a first view of the Tsád, or rather of its inundations. The whole country now began to be clothed with siwák. Having kept for about half an hour along the elevated sandy level, we descended, and followed the lower road, almost hidden by the thickest vegetation. This lower road, as well as our whole track to Ngégimi, became entirely inundated at a later period (in 1854), and will perhaps never more be trodden: in consequence, when I came this way in 1855 we were obliged to make a circuit, keeping along the sandy level nearer to the site of the ancient town of Wúdi.
Shortly afterwards we encamped, where the underwood had left a small open space, at the eastern foot of a low hill. The prickly jungle was here so dense that I searched a long time in vain for a bare spot to lie down upon, when, to my great satisfaction, I found Bú-Zéd clearing me a place with his axe. The swampy shore of the lake was only about four hundred yards from our resting-place; but the spot was not well chosen for an encampment, and it was found necessary to place several watches during the night, notwithstanding which, a skin of mine, full of water, disappeared from the stick upon which it was suspended, and the Arabs tried to persuade me that a hungry hyæna had carried it off; but it was most probable that one of themselves had been in want of this necessary article of desert travelling.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, September 24th.]
We continued our march through the luxuriant prickly underwood, full of the dung and footsteps of the elephant. Here and there the _capparis_ had been cut away, and large fireplaces were to be seen, where the roots had been burnt to ashes. The tripods, of which several were lying about, are used for filtering the water through these ashes, which takes from them the salt particles which they contain. This water is afterwards boiled, and thus the salt obtained. This salt is then taken to Kúkawa by the Kánembú, whilst those who prepare it are Búdduma.
On our return from Kánem we met large numbers of this piratical set of islanders; and on my home journey in 1855, I saw them in the full
## activity of their labours. This salt, weak and insipid as it is, is at
least of a better quality than that which the people in Kótoko prepare from neat-dung. In Míltu, on the Upper Shári, or Bá-busó, salt of a tolerable quality is obtained from a peculiar species of grass growing in the river. The Músgu, as we shall see, prepare this necessary article (or at least something like it) from the ashes of the stalks of millet and Indian corn.
After we had emerged from the underwood into the open country, we passed a considerable salt-manufactory, consisting of at least twenty earthen pots. Large triangular lumps of salt were lying about, which are shaped in moulds made of clay. Several people were busy carrying mud from an inlet of the lake which was close at hand, in order to make new moulds. Keeping close along the border of the latter, and enjoying the fresh breeze which had before been kept from us by the forest, we halted early in the afternoon. A small Tébu caravan was also encamped here, no doubt with the intention of passing the night; but they did not like the neighbourhood of our friends, and, loading immediately, started off.
Our path now lay through fertile pasture-grounds, with a line of underwood to our left. It was a fine cool morning. We passed a large pool of fresh water, frequented by great numbers of waterfowl of various species. Overweg, on his fine and tall, but rather heavy and unwieldy charger, made an unsuccessful attempt to overtake a pair of kelára (_Antilope Arabica?_ _Aigocerus ellipsiprymnus?_), who scampered playfully away through the fine grassy plain. At nine o’clock we reached the far-famed place Ngégimi, and were greatly disappointed at finding an open, poor-looking village, consisting of detached conical huts, without the least comfort, which, even in these light structures, may well be attained to a certain degree. The hungry inhabitants would not receive anything in exchange for a few fowls which we wanted to buy, except grain, of which we ourselves, in these desolate regions, stood too much in need to have given it away without an adequate substitute.
The situation of this place is very unfavourable, since the ruler of Bórnu has restricted his real dominion within the border of the komádugu, and the poor inhabitants are constantly in fear of being molested by a ghazzia of the Tawárek. Indeed, two years later, this village was plundered by these freebooting hordes; and some months afterwards, in the year 1854, the remainder of the population, who had not been carried away into captivity, were obliged, by the high floods of the lagoon, to leave their old dwelling-place altogether, and build a new village on the slope of the sand-hills, where I found it at the end of May, 1855. As for Wúdi (a large place, once an occasional residence of the Bórnu kings) and Lári, both mentioned by Denham and Clapperton, they have long been deserted, Wúdi having been taken and ransacked by the Tawárek in the year 1838, and Lári a little later. At present only a few palm-trees (said to yield a kind of date far superior to the little black Kánem dates) in the sand-hills about eight miles S.W. from Ngégimi, indicate the site of the once celebrated Wúdi. Ngégimi was then nominally under the control of Kashélla Hasen or Hassan.
Plunged into sad reflections on the fate of this once splendid empire of Kánem, and the continued progress of the Berber race into the heart of Sudán, I hung listlessly upon my horse, when, on leaving this uncomfortable dwelling-place, we took our course over the unbroken plain, once no doubt the bottom of the lake, and soon to become once more a part of it. Sometimes it was dry and barren, at others clothed with rich verdure, while on our left it was bordered by a range of sand- hills, the natural limit of the lagoon. At a little before noon we came to a deep inlet of the lake, spreading the freshest verdure all around in this now desolate country. Having watered our horses, and taken in a sufficient supply of this element for the night, we crossed the plain, here not more than a thousand yards wide, and ascended a broad promontory of the range of sand-hills, where we encamped.
It was a delightful spot, where the heart might have expanded in the enjoyment of freedom. In front of us to the south-east, the swampy lands of the lagoon, one immense rice-field (as it ought to be at least), spread out to the borders of the horizon; but no “white water,” or open sea, was to be seen, not even as much as connected channels, nothing but one immense swampy flat, stretching out as far as the eye could reach. To the south the green pasturages, along which we had come, extended far beyond Ngégimi. It was a picture of one of the most fertile spots of the earth doomed to desolation. But there was a feeble spark of hope in me that it would not always be so; and I flattered myself that my labours in these new regions might contribute to sow here the first germs of a new life, a new activity.
My companions and friends did not seem to share in my feelings: for, wholly intent upon mischief, they had been roving about, and having fallen in with some Kánembú cattle-breeders, they had plundered them not only of their milk, but also of the vessels which contained it; and in the afternoon some respectable old men applied to Mr. Overweg and myself, the only just people they were sure to find amongst this wild band of lawless robbers, for redress, and we were happy, not only to restore to them their vessels, but also to make them a few small presents.
[Sidenote: Thursday, Sept. 25th.]
Descending from our lofty encampment, we continued our march in the narrow grassy plain, between the sand-hills to the north, and another blue inlet of the lake to the south, where the rich pasture-grounds extended further into the lake.
It was about seven o’clock in the morning when we had the good fortune to enjoy one of the most interesting scenes which these regions can possibly afford. Far to our right was a whole herd of elephants, arranged in regular array, like an army of rational beings, slowly proceeding to the water. In front appeared the males, as was evident from their size, in regular order; at a little distance followed the young ones; in a third line were the females; and the whole were brought up by five males of immense size. The latter (though we were at some distance, and proceeding quietly along) took notice of us, and some were seen throwing dust into the air; but we did not disturb them. There were altogether ninety-six.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
HERD OF ELEPHANTS NEAR THE TSÁD.
Sepr. 25th. 1851.]
The fine fresh pasture-grounds some time afterwards gave way to a drier plain, covered with a species of heath, and the country presented rather a melancholy appearance. A little before ten o’clock we came to a large herd of cattle or “berí,” collected round a small hamlet or dawar, consisting of light, high-topped huts of corn-stalks, fastened together by three rings of straw, and lightly plastered with a little cow-dung. But although we obtained some milk, some of our friends, not content with filling their stomachs, laid hold of a fine pony and carried it off, under the pretext that it belonged to the Búdduma, who, as they asserted, were the enemies of the sheikh; and when we had started again, and encountered a small caravan of oxen laden with dates, not only were all the skins containing the dates taken, but another ruffian laid hold of one of the beasts of burden and dragged it away with him, notwithstanding the lamentations of its owner. And yet the people who were thus treated were subjects of the king of Bórnu, and the Welád Slimán were his professed friends and hirelings.
Fine fresh pasture-grounds, and melancholy tracts clothed with nothing but heath, succeeded each other, whilst not a single tree broke the monotony of the level country. At length we encamped near a deserted village of cattle-breeders, consisting of about twenty small conical huts, built in the form of a large circle. We had scarcely begun to make ourselves comfortable, when a noisy quarrel arose about the dates so unjustly taken from their owners, and some of the Arabs concerned in the dispute came to my tent in order to have their claims settled, when the whole particulars of the shameless robberies committed in the course of the day, came under my notice, and especially that of the horse. But this was a delicate subject, and one that excited the angry passions of those concerned—so much so that one of them, named Ibrahím, came running with his loaded gun straight into my tent, threatening to blow out the brains of any body who spoke of injustice or robbery. As for Bakhér, and ʿAbd e’ Rahmán, who were the actual possessors of the horse, they were about to leave by themselves.
The violent proceedings of our protectors had spread such terror throughout these almost desolate regions, that in the evening, solely from fear, two oxen and a quantity of milk were sent from a neighbouring berí as presents. The night was fresh, but not cold, and a very heavy dew fell.
[Sidenote: Friday, Sept. 26th.]
Reached about noon the first large cluster of huts of the village of Berí, after having followed a very numerous and fine herd of cattle (one of the finest I saw in the interior of the continent) for awhile, with the urgent desire of obtaining a drink of fresh milk, and then crossed a tolerably deep inlet of the lagoon. Here we encamped on a terribly hot sandy spot, without any shade, some two hundred yards from the village, which stretches in a long line from north to south.
Berí is a place of importance, at least since the date of the greatest splendour of the Bórnu kingdom, and is frequently mentioned in the history of the great king Edrís Alawóma, written during his lifetime by his chief imám Ahmed. Its situation is such as to render it of great importance as a station; for here the army proceeding from Bórnu to the interior of Kánem leaves the shore of the lagoon, and has generally to make a long stay, in order to regain strength for the ensuing march, and to supply itself with fresh provisions. Till a few years previously, a Bórnu governor of the name of Shitíma Aba had been residing here; but he had given up the place, and preferred living in the capital.
But here I must add, that there are two places called Berí, distant from each other a few miles, the one where we were encamped being called Berí-kurá, the Great Berí, the other with the surname “futé” (the western), from its more westerly situation; but it is at present greatly reduced, and we had left it unobserved on one side. The greater part of the inhabitants of Berí are Kánembú, and belong to the clan of the Sugúrti, a large division of that tribe, which, however, in the last struggle of the old dynasty, suffered greatly. Besides these, a good many Búdduma are settled here.
I was very glad when, after another severe quarrel, the young horse was at length given up by the robbers, as likewise the beast of burden. One of the oxen sent yesterday as a present was slaughtered to-day, and divided amongst the whole band. As for myself, I made merry on a little fresh milk; for though the people are, and appear to have been from their birth (for “berí” means cattle-herd), in possession of numerous herds of cattle, nevertheless, in the village, as is often the case, there is very little milk—only just as much as is required for the use of the owners themselves—the cattle being at a great distance. Very little can be obtained here, and corn is scarcely cultivated, owing to the insecure and desperate state of the country. The inhabitants are in continual intercourse with the Yédiná, that section of the Kótoko who inhabit the islands in the lake, and who are generally called Búdduma. But of course the distance of their village from the lagoon varies considerably; and the nearest branch or inlet at present was that which we had crossed in the morning, and from which the inhabitants supplied themselves with water. The want of firewood is greatly felt; scarcely a single tree is to be met with in the neighbourhood.[7]
[Sidenote: Saturday, Sept. 27th.]