TRAVELS AND DISCOVERIES
IN
NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
Printed by SPOTTISWOODE & CO.
New-street Square.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
AÚDERAS.
Novr. 2nd. 1850.]
TRAVELS AND DISCOVERIES
IN
NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA:
BEING A
JOURNAL OF AN EXPEDITION
UNDERTAKEN
UNDER THE AUSPICES OF H.B.M.’S GOVERNMENT,
IN THE YEARS
1849-1855.
BY
HENRY BARTH, PH.D., D.C.L.
FELLOW OF THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL AND ASIATIC SOCIETIES,
_&c. &c._
IN FIVE VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, LONGMANS, & ROBERTS.
1857.
_The right of translation is reserved._
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE EARL OF CLARENDON, K.G., G.C.B.
ETC. ETC. ETC.
HER MAJESTY’S SECRETARY OF STATE FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS,
THESE VOLUMES,
CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF
TRAVELS AND DISCOVERIES IN NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA,
MADE UNDER HIS LORDSHIP’S AUSPICES,
ARE,
IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT FOR MANY ACTS OF KINDNESS,
Dedicated,
BY HIS OBLIGED AND FAITHFUL SERVANT,
THE AUTHOR,
[Illustration: DR. BARTH’S TRAVELS IN NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA
Sheet No. 1. GENERAL SKETCH of AFRICA, Showing the ROUTES OF DR.
BARTH’S TRAVELS 1850-1855.
Drawn by A. Petermann.
_Engraved by E. Weller._
_London, Longman & Co._]
PREFACE.
* * * * *
On the 5th of October, 1849, at Berlin, Professor Carl Ritter informed
me that the British Government was about to send Mr. Richardson on
a mission to Central Africa, and that they had offered, through the
Chevalier Bunsen, to allow a German traveller to join the mission,
provided he was willing to contribute two hundred pounds for his own
personal travelling expenses.
I had commenced lecturing at the University of Berlin on comparative
geography and the colonial commerce of antiquity, and had just at
that time published the first volume of my “Wanderings round the
Mediterranean,” which comprised my journey through Barbary. Having
undertaken this journey quite alone, I spent nearly my whole time with
the Arabs, and familiarized myself with that state of human society
where the camel is man’s daily companion, and the culture of the
date-tree his chief occupation. I made long journeys through desert
tracts; I travelled all round the Great Syrtis, and, passing through
the picturesque little tract of Cyrenaica, traversed the whole country
towards Egypt; I wandered about for above a month in the desert valleys
between Aswán and Kosér, and afterwards pursued my journey by land all
the way through Syria and Asia Minor to Constantinople.
While traversing these extensive tracts, where European comfort is
never altogether out of reach, where lost supplies may be easily
replaced, and where the protection of European powers is not quite
without avail, I had often cast a wistful look towards those unknown or
little-known regions in the interior, which stand in frequent, though
irregular, connection with the coast. As a lover of ancient history,
I had been led towards those regions rather through the commerce of
ancient Carthage, than by the thread of modern discovery; and the
desire to know something more about them acted on me like a charm. In
the course of a conversation I once held with a Háusa slave in Káf,
in the regency of Tunis, he, seeing the interest I took in his native
country, made use of these simple but impressive words: “Please God,
you shall go and visit Kanó.” These words were constantly ringing in
my ears; and though overpowered for a time by the vivid impressions
of interesting and picturesque countries, they echoed with renewed
intensity as soon as I was restored to the tranquillity of European
life.
During my three years’ travelling I had ample opportunity of testing
the efficacy of British protection; I experienced the kindness of all
Her Britannic Majesty’s consuls from Tangiers to Brúsa, and often
enjoyed their hospitality. It was solely their protection which enabled
me to traverse with some degree of security those more desert tracts
through which I wandered. Colonel Warrington, Her Majesty’s consul in
Tripoli, who seems to have had some presentiment of my capabilities as
an African explorer, even promised me his full assistance if I should
try to penetrate into the interior. Besides this, my admiration of
the wide extension of the British over the globe, their influence,
their language, and their government, was such that I felt a strong
inclination to become the humble means of carrying out their
philanthropic views for the progressive civilization of the neglected
races of Central Africa.
Under these circumstances, I volunteered cheerfully to accompany Mr.
Richardson, on the sole condition, however, that the exploration of
Central Africa should be made the principal object of the mission,
instead of a secondary one, as had been originally contemplated.
In the meantime, while letters were interchanged between Berlin,
London, and Paris (where Mr. Richardson at that time resided), my
father, whom I had informed of my design, entreated me to desist from
my perilous undertaking, with an earnestness which my filial duty did
not allow me to resist; and giving way to Dr. Overweg, who in youthful
enthusiasm came immediately forward to volunteer, I receded from my
engagement. But it was too late, my offer having been officially
accepted in London; and I therefore allayed my father’s anxiety, and
joined the expedition.
It was a generous act of Lord Palmerston, who organized the expedition,
to allow two foreign gentlemen to join it instead of one. A sailor was
besides attached to it; and a boat was also provided, in order to give
full scope to the object of exploration. The choice of the sailor was
unfortunate, and Mr. Richardson thought it best to send him back from
Múrzuk; but the boat, which was carried throughout the difficult and
circuitous road by Múrzuk, Ghát, Aïr, and Zínder, exciting the wonder
and astonishment of all the tribes in the interior, ultimately reached
its destination, though the director of the expedition himself had in
the meanwhile unfortunately succumbed.
Government also allowed us to take out arms. At first it had been
thought that the expedition ought to go unarmed, inasmuch as Mr.
Richardson had made his first journey to Ghát without arms. But on that
occasion he had gone as a private individual, without instruments,
without presents, without anything; and we were to unite with the
character of an expedition that of a mission,—that is to say, we were
to explore the country while endeavouring at the same time to establish
friendship with the chiefs and rulers of the different territories. It
may be taken for granted that we should never have crossed the frontier
of Aïr had we been unarmed; and when I entered upon my journey alone,
it would have been impossible for me to proceed without arms through
countries which are in a constant state of war, where no chief or ruler
can protect a traveller except with a large escort, which is sure to
run away as soon as there is any real danger.
It may be possible to travel without arms in some parts of Southern
Africa; but there is this wide difference, that the natives of the
latter are exclusively Pagans, while, along all those tracts which
I have been exploring, Islamism and Paganism are constantly arrayed
against each other in open or secret warfare, even if we leave out of
view the unsafe state of the roads through large states consisting,
though loosely connected together, of almost independent provinces.
The traveller in such countries must carry arms; yet he must exercise
the utmost discretion in using them. As for myself, I avoided giving
offence to the men with whom I had to deal in peaceful intercourse,
endeavouring to attach them to me by esteem and friendship. I have
never proceeded onwards without leaving a sincere friend behind me, and
thus being sure that, if obliged to retrace my steps, I might do so
with safety.
But I have more particular reason to be grateful for the opinion
entertained of me by the British Government; for after Mr. Richardson
had, in March, 1851, fallen a victim to the noble enterprise to which
he had devoted his life, Her Majesty’s Government honoured me with
their confidence, and, in authorizing me to carry out the objects
of the expedition, placed sufficient means at my disposal for the
purpose. The position in which I was thus placed must be my excuse for
undertaking, after the successful accomplishment of my labours, the
difficult task of relating them in a language not my own.
In matters of science and humanity all nations ought to be united by
one common interest, each contributing its share in proportion to its
own peculiar disposition and calling. If I have been able to achieve
something in geographical discovery, it is difficult to say how much
of it is due to English, how much to German influence; for science is
built up of the materials collected by almost every nation, and, beyond
all doubt, in geographical enterprise in general none has done more
than the English, while, in Central Africa in particular, very little
has been achieved by any but English travellers. Let it not, therefore,
be attributed to an undue feeling of nationality if I correct any error
of those who preceded me. It would be unpardonable if a traveller
failed to penetrate further, or to obtain a clearer insight into the
customs and the polity of the nations visited by him, or if he were
unable to delineate the country with greater accuracy and precision,
than those who went before him.
Every succeeding traveller is largely indebted to the labours of his
predecessor. Thus our expedition would never have been able to achieve
what it did, if Oudney, Denham, and Clapperton had not gone before
us; nor would these travellers have succeeded so far, had Lyon and
Ritchie not opened the road to Fezzán; nor would Lyon have been able to
reach Tejérri, if Captain (now Rear-admiral) Smyth had not shown the
way to Ghírza. To Smyth, seconded by Colonel Warrington, is due the
merit of having attracted the attention of the British Government to
the favourable situation of Tripoli for facilitating intercourse with
Central Africa; and if at present the river-communication along the
Tsádda or Bénuwé seems to hold out a prospect of an easier approach
to those regions, the importance of Tripoli must not be underrated,
for it may long remain the most available port from which a steady
communication with many parts of that continent can be kept up.
I had the good fortune to see my discoveries placed on a stable basis
before they were brought to a close, by the astronomical observations
of Dr. Vogel[1], who was sent out by Her Britannic Majesty’s Government
for the purpose of joining the expedition; and I have only to regret
that this gentleman was not my companion from the beginning of my
journey, as exact astronomical observations, such as he has made,
are of the utmost importance in any geographical exploration. By
moving the generally-accepted position of Kúkawa more than a degree
to the westward, the whole map of the interior has been changed very
considerably. The position assigned by Dr. Vogel to Zínder gives to
the whole western route, from Ghát through the country of Ásben,
a well-fixed terminating point, while at the same time it serves
to check my route to Timbúktu. If, however, this topic be left out
of consideration, it will be found that the maps made by me on the
journey, under many privations, were a close approximation to the
truth. But now all that pertains to physical features and geographical
position has been laid down, and executed with artistic skill and
scientific precision, by Dr. Petermann.
The principal merit which I claim for myself in this respect is that
of having noted the whole configuration of the country; and my chief
object has been to represent the tribes and nations with whom I came in
contact, in their historical and ethnographical relation to the rest of
mankind, as well as in their physical relation to that tract of country
in which they live. If, in this respect, I have succeeded in placing
before the eyes of the public a new and animated picture, and connected
those apparently savage and degraded tribes more intimately with the
history of races placed on a higher level of civilization, I shall be
amply recompensed for the toils and dangers I have gone through.
My companion, Dr. Overweg, was a clever and active young geologist;
but, unfortunately, he was deficient in that general knowledge of
natural science which is required for comprehending all the various
phenomena occurring on a journey into unknown regions. Having never
before risked his life on a dangerous expedition, he never for a moment
doubted that it might not be his good fortune to return home in safety;
and he therefore did not always bestow that care upon his journal which
is so desirable in such an enterprise. Nevertheless almost all his
observations of latitude have been found correct, while his memoranda,
if deciphered at leisure, might still yield a rich harvest.
One of the principal objects which Her Britannic Majesty’s Government
had always in view in these African expeditions was the abolition of
the slave-trade. This, too, was zealously advocated by the late Mr.
Richardson, and, I trust, has been as zealously carried out by myself
whenever it was in my power to do so, although, as an explorer on a
journey of discovery, I was induced, after mature reflection, to place
myself under the protection of an expeditionary army, whose object
it was to subdue another tribe, and eventually to carry away a large
proportion of the conquered into slavery. Now, it should always be
borne in mind that there is a broad distinction between the slave-trade
and domestic slavery. The foreign slave-trade may, comparatively
speaking, be easily abolished, though the difficulties of watching
over contraband attempts have been shown sufficiently by many years’
experience. With the abolition of the slave-trade all along the
northern and south-western coast of Africa, slaves will cease to be
brought down to the coast; and in this way a great deal of the mischief
and misery necessarily resulting from this inhuman traffic will be cut
off. But this, unfortunately, forms only a small part of the evil.
There can be no doubt that the most horrible topic connected with
slavery is slave-hunting; and this is carried on not only for the
purpose of supplying the foreign market, but, in a far more extensive
degree, for supplying the wants of domestic slavery. Hence it was
necessary that I should become acquainted with the real state of
these most important features of African society, in order to speak
clearly about them; for with what authority could I expatiate on the
horrors and the destruction accompanying such an expedition, if I
were not speaking as an eye-witness? But having myself accompanied
such a host on a grand scale, I shall be able, in the third volume
of my narrative, to lay before the public a picture of the cheerful
comfort, as well as the domestic happiness, of a considerable portion
of the human race, which, though in a low, is not at all in a degraded
state of civilization, as well as the wanton and cruel manner in
which this happiness is destroyed, and its peaceful abodes changed
into desolation. Moreover, this very expedition afforded me the best
opportunity of convincing the rulers of Bórnu of the injury which such
a perverse system entails upon themselves.
But besides this, it was of the utmost importance to visit the country
of the Músgu; for while that region had been represented by the last
expedition as an almost inaccessible mountain-chain, attached to that
group which Major Denham observed on his enterprising but unfortunate
expedition with Bú-Khalúm, I convinced myself on my journey to
Ádamáwa, from the information which I gathered from the natives, that
the mountains of Mándará are entirely insulated towards the east. I
considered it, therefore, a matter of great geographical importance to
visit that country, which, being situated between the rivers Shárí and
Bénuwé, could alone afford the proof whether there was any connection
between these two rivers.
I shall have frequent occasion to refer, in my journal, to
conversations which I had with the natives on religious subjects.
I may say that I have always avowed my religion, and defended the
pure principles of Christianity against those of Islám; only once
was I obliged, for about a month, in order to carry out my project
of reaching Timbúktu, to assume the character of a Moslim. Had I not
resorted to this expedient, it would have been absolutely impossible
to achieve such a project, since I was then under the protection of no
chief whatever, and had to pass through the country of the fanatic and
barbarous hordes of the Tawárek. But though, with this sole exception,
I have never denied my character of a Christian, I thought it prudent
to conform to the innocent prejudices of the people around me, adopting
a dress which is at once better adapted to the climate and more
decorous in the eyes of the natives. One great cause of my popularity
was the custom of alms-giving. By this means I won the esteem of the
natives, who took such a lively interest in my wellbeing that, even
when I was extremely ill, they used to say, “ʿAbd el Kerím[2] shall not
die.”
I have given a full description of my preparatory excursion through the
mountainous region round Tripoli; for though this is not altogether a
new country, anyone who compares my map with that of Lyon or Denham,
will see how little the very interesting physical features of this
tract had been known before, while, at a time when the whole Turkish
empire is about to undergo a great transformation, it seems well worth
while to lay also the state of this part of its vast dominions in a
more complete manner before the European public.
Of the first part of our expedition there has already appeared the
Narrative of the late Mr. Richardson, published from his manuscript
journals, which I was fortunately able to send home from Kúkawa. It
is full of minute incidents of travelling life, so very instructive
to the general reader. But from my point of view, I had to look
very differently at the objects which presented themselves; and Mr.
Richardson, if he had lived to work out his memoranda himself, would
not have failed to give to his Journal a more lasting interest.
Moreover, my stay in Ágades afforded me quite a different insight into
the life, the history, and geography of those regions, and brought me
into contact with Timbúktu.
Extending over a tract of country of twenty-four degrees from north to
south, and twenty degrees from east to west, in the broadest part of
the continent of Africa, my travels necessarily comprise subjects of
great interest and diversity.
After having traversed vast deserts of the most barren soil, and scenes
of the most frightful desolation, I met with fertile lands irrigated by
large navigable rivers and extensive central lakes, ornamented with the
finest timber, and producing various species of grain, rice, sesamum,
ground-nuts, in unlimited abundance, the sugar-cane, &c., together with
cotton and indigo, the most valuable commodities of trade. The whole
of Central Africa, from Bagírmi to the east as far as Timbúktu to the
west (as will be seen in my narrative), abounds in these products. The
natives of these regions not only weave their own cotton, but dye their
home-made shirts with their own indigo. The river, the far-famed Niger,
which gives access to these regions by means of its eastern branch the
Bénuwé, which I discovered, affords an uninterrupted navigable sheet
of water for more than six hundred miles into the very heart of the
country. Its western branch is obstructed by rapids at the distance of
about three hundred and fifty miles from the coast; but even at that
point it is probably not impassable in the present state of navigation,
while, higher up, the river opens an immense highroad for nearly one
thousand miles into the very heart of Western Africa, so rich in every
kind of produce.
The same diversity of soil and produce which the regions traversed
by me exhibit, is also observed with respect to man. Starting from
Tripoli in the north, we proceed from the settlements of the Arab and
the Berber, the poor remnants of the vast empires of the middle ages,
into a country dotted with splendid ruins from the period of the Roman
dominion, through the wild roving hordes of the Tawárek, to the Negro
and half-Negro tribes, and to the very border of the South African
nations. In the regions of Central Africa there exists not one and the
same stock, as in South Africa; but the greatest diversity of tribes,
or rather nations, prevails, with idioms entirely distinct.
The great and momentous struggle between Islamism and Paganism is here
continually going on, causing every day the most painful and affecting
results, while the miseries arising from slavery and the slave-trade
are here revealed in their most repulsive features. We find Mohammedan
learning engrafted on the ignorance and simplicity of the black races,
and the gaudy magnificence and strict ceremonial of large empires
side by side with the barbarous simplicity of naked and half-naked
tribes. We here trace a historical thread which guides us through this
labyrinth of tribes and overthrown kingdoms; and a lively interest is
awakened by reflecting on their possible progress and restoration,
through the intercourse with more civilized parts of the world.
Finally, we find here commerce in every direction radiating from Kanó,
the great emporium of Central Africa, and spreading the manufactures of
that industrious region over the whole of Western Africa.
I cannot conclude these prefatory remarks without expressing my
sincere thanks for the great interest shown in my proceedings by so
many eminent men in this country, as well as for the distinction of
the Victoria medal awarded to me by the Royal Geographical Society. As
I may flatter myself that, by the success which attended my efforts,
I have encouraged further undertakings in these as well as in other
quarters of Africa, so it will be my greatest satisfaction, if this
narrative should give a fresh impulse to the endeavours to open the
fertile regions of Central Africa to European commerce and civilization.
Whatever may be the value of this work, the Author believes that it
has been enhanced by the views and illustrations with which it is
embellished. These have been executed with artistical skill and the
strictest fidelity, from my sketches, by Mr. Bernatz, the well known
author of the beautiful “Scenes in Æthiopia.”
I will only add a few words relative to the spelling of native
names,—rather a difficult subject in a conflux of languages of very
different organization and unsettled orthography. I have constantly
endeavoured to express the sounds as correctly as possible, but in
the simplest way, assigning to the vowels always the same intonation
which they have in Italian, and keeping as closely as possible to the
principles adopted by the Asiatic Society. The greatest difficulty
related to the “g” sound, which is written in various ways by the
Africans, and puzzled even the Arabic writers of the middle ages.
While the “k” in North Africa approaches the g in “give,” it takes the
sound of it entirely in the Central African languages. On this ground,
although I preferred writing “Azkár,” while the name might have been
almost as well written “Azgár;” yet further into the interior the
application of the g, as in “Ágades,” “Góber,” and so on, was more
correct. The ع of the Arabs has been expressed, in conformity with the
various sounds which it adopts, by ʿa, ʿo and ʿu; the غ by gh, although
it sounds in many words like an r; ج by j; the چ, which is frequent in
the African languages, by ch.
The alphabet, therefore, which I have made use of is the following:—
_Vowels._
a as in cat.
á „ father.
ʿa (not English) not unlike a in dart.
e as in pen.
é like the first a in fatal.
i as in it.
í „ ravine.
o „ lot.
ó „ home.
ʿo (not English) not unlike o in noble.
u as in put.
ú „ adjure, true.
ʿu not unlike oo in doom.
y, at the end of words, instead of i.
_Diphthongs._
ai as i in tide (ay at the end of words).
oi (oy), as in noise.
au (aw), as ow in now.
_Consonants._
b as in beat.
d „ door.
f[3] „ fan.
g as in got.
j[4] „ join.
k „ keep.
l „ leave.
m „ man.
n „ not.
ñ „ the Spanish “campaña,” like ni in companion, onion.
p[3] „ pain.
r „ rain.
s „ son.
t „ tame.
v „ vain.
w „ win.
y „ yet.
z „ zeal.
_Double Consonants._
gh as in ghost, and the g in grumble.
ks as x in tax, excise.
kh as ch in the Scotch word loch.
th as in tooth.
ts as in Betsy.
ng as in wrong.
A few slight discrepancies in the spelling of names will, I trust, be
excused, the printing having already commenced before I had entirely
settled the orthography I would adopt.
HENRY BARTH, PH.D.
_St. John’s Wood, London,
May_ 1. 1857.
[Footnote 1: Some details will be considered in a Memoir to be subjoined
at the end of this work. It is to be hoped that Dr. Vogel’s calculations
themselves may be received in the meantime.]
[Footnote 2: “ʿAbd el Kerím,” meaning “Servant of the Merciful,” was the
name which I thought it prudent to adopt.]
[Footnote 3: p, ph, f, in many African languages, are constantly
interchanged, the same as r and dh, r and l.]
[Footnote 4: No distinction has been made between the different sounds
of j.]
CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
Page
From Tunis to Tripoli 1
The First Start. — The Passage of the Syrtis. — Little Progress. —
Trials of Temper. — Our Companions. — An Old Friend. — Reach Tripoli.
CHAP. II.
Tripoli. — The Plain and the Mountain-slope; the Arab and the
Berber 17
An Excursion. — Arab Encampments. — Commencement of the Hilly Region. —
The Plateau. — Turkish Stronghold. — Berber Settlements. — The
Picturesque Fountain. — Wádí Welád ʿAli. — Khalaifa. — Beautiful
Ravine. — Um e’ Zerzán. — Enshéd e’ Sufét. — Roman Sepulchre. — Kikla.
— Wádí Kerdemín. — Rabda. — Kasr Ghurián. — Mount Tekút. — Kasr
Teghrínna. — Hanshír. — Wádí Rummána.
CHAP. III.
Fertile Mountain Region rich in ancient Remains 51
Wádí Rán. — Jebel Msíd. — Singular Monuments. — Structure Described. —
Conjectural Character. — Other Ancient Ruins. — Approach to Tarhóna. —
The Governor’s Encampment. — Ruins near ʿAín Shershára. — Kasr Dóga. —
Kasr Dawán. — Jebel Msíd — Meselláta. — Kasr Kerker. — The Cinyps. —
Leptis-Khoms.
CHAP. IV.
Departure for the Interior. — Arrival at Mizda. — Remains of a
Christian Church 85
The Departure. — ʿAín Zára. — Mejenín. — Wádí Haera. — The Boat crosses
the Defile. — Ghurián. — Kuléba. — Roman Milestones. — Mizda. — The
Eastern Village. — Jebel Durmán. — Wádí Sófejín. — Ruined Castle. —
Christian Remains.
CHAP. V.
Sculptures and Roman Remains in the Desert. — Gharíya 112
Roman Sepulchre in Wádí Talha. — Wádí Tagíje. — Remarkable Monument. —
Description of Monument. — Wádí Zemzem. — Roman Sepulchres at Taboníye.
— Gharíya. — Roman Gateway. — Arab Tower. — Roman Inscription. —
Gharíya e’ sherkíya. — The Hammáda. — Storms in the Desert. — End of
the Hammáda. — El Hasi, “the Well.”
CHAP. VI.
Wádí Sháti. — Old Jerma. — Arrival in Múrzuk 143
Wádí Sháti, or Shiyáti. — Éderí and its Gardens. — Wádí Shiúkh. — Sandy
Region. — Reach the Wádí. — Ugréfe. — Jerma Kadím. — The Last Roman
Monument. — The Groves of the Wádí. — End of the Wádí. — Arrival at
Múrzuk.
CHAP. VII.
Residence in Múrzuk 164
Delay. — Character of Múrzuk. — Ground-plan of Múrzuk.
CHAP. VIII.
The Desert. — Tasáwa. — Exactions of the Escort. — Delay
at Eláwen 171
Setting out from Múrzuk. — Tiggerurtín, the Village of the Tinýlkum. —
Gathering of the Caravan. — Tasáwa. — Arrival of the Tawárek Chiefs. —
Reformation of Islám. — Return to Múrzuk. — Move on finally. — Sháraba.
— Wádí Aberjúsh. — Rate of Travelling. — Join the Caravan. — Tesémmak.
— Wádí Eláwen. — Hatíta’s Intrigues.
CHAP. IX.
Singular Sculptures in the Desert. — The Mountain-pass 194
Hatíta. — Sculptures in Telísaghé. — Subject of Sculptures, Two Deities
Fighting about a Bull. — Herd of Bulls. — Cattle formerly Beasts of
Burden in the Desert. — Fine Valleys. — Breaking up of the Plateau. —
The Narrow Gutter-like Pass of Ralle. — Téliya. — Sérdales. — Valley
Tánesof. — Mount Ídinen. — The Traveller’s Mishap. — Astray in the
Desert. — The Wanderer Found. — Arrival at Ghát.
CHAP. X.
The Indigenous Berber Population 223
Fezzán, a Berber Country. — The Berbers. — Their Real Name
Mázígh; the Name Tawárek of Arab Origin. — The Azkár. — History of
the Azkár. — The Hadánarang. — Degraded Tribes. — The Imghád. — The
Kél. — View of the Valley of Ghát.
CHAP. XI.
Crossing a large Mountain-ridge, and entering on the open
gravelly Desert 241
The town of Bárakat. — The Date-groves of Bárakat and their
Inhabitants. — Alpine Lake. — The Tawáti. — High Mountain-pass. — Deep
Ravine of Égeri. — Threatened Attack. — Region of Granite Commences. —
Desert Plain of Mariaw. — Afalésselez. — Approach to Tropical Climes. —
Wild Oxen (“bagr el wahsh”) in the Desert. — Nghákeli, New Vegetation
(_Balanites Ægyptiaca_).
CHAP. XII.
Dangerous Approach to Ásben 267
Picturesque Peak. — Valley of Arókam. — Caravan of Merábetín. —
Aséttere. — The Guineaworm. — The Caravan (at Aísala). — Berber
Inscription. — Ikadémmelrang. — Peculiar Mounts. — Marárraba, the
Half-way. — Bóro’s Threats. — First View of Ásben. — Asëu. — Approach
of the Enemy. — Valley Fénorang. — The Freebooters. — Timázkaren. —
Máket-n-Íkelán, the Slaves’ Dance. — Continued Alarms. — The Valley of
Jínninau. — Pleasant Valley of Gébi. — The _Capparis sodata_.
CHAP. XIII.
Inhabited but dangerous Frontier-region 297
Tághajít. — Character of the Borderers. — New Alarms. — Order of
Battle. — Mohammed Bóro. — A Tardy Acknowledgment. — Formidable
Threats. — The Compromise. — Mountains of Ásben. — Valley of Tídik. —
Sad Disappointment. — Definitive Attack. — The Pillage. — _Cucifera
Thebaïca_. — Selúfiet. — Tin-tagh-odé, the Settlement of the Merábetín.
— Short State of Supplies. — A Desert Torrent. — Arrival of the Escort.
— Valley of Fódet — Camel-Races. — Parting of Friends. — Valley of
Afís. — New Troubles. — Arrival at Tintéllust. — The English Hill.
CHAP. XIV.
Ethnographical Relations of Aïr 335
The name Aïr or Ahír. — Country of the Goberáwa. — The Kél-owí. —
Recent Conquest. — Descent in the Female Line. — Mixed Population. —
Language. — Sections of the Kél-owí. — The Irólangh. — Tribe of the
Sheikh Ánnur. — The Ikázkezan. — The Kél-n-Néggaru. — The Éfadaye. —
League of the Kél-owí with the Kél-gerés and Itísan. — The Kél-fadaye.
— The word “Mehárebí.” — The Kél-ferwán. — The Itísan and Kél-gerés. —
Population of Ásben. — The Salt-trade.[5]
CHAP. XV.
Residence in Tintéllust 360
The Sheikh Ánnur’s Character. — Rainy Season. — Nocturnal Attack. —
Want of Proper Food. — Preparations for Advance.
CHAP. XVI.
Journey to Ágades 370
Attempt at Bullock-riding. — Tawárek Blacksmiths. — The Double Horn of
Mount Cheréka. — Ásodi and its Ruins. — Mounts Eghellál, Bághzen, and
Ágata. — Mounts Belásega and Abíla. — The Valley Tíggeda. — The
Picturesque Valley of Ásada. — The Valley of Tághist with the Ancient
Place of Prayer. — Picturesque Valley of Aúderas with the Forest of
Dúm-Palms. — Barbarity. — Valley Búdde. — The Natron. — The Feathered
Bur. — Imghád of the Valleys. — Fertile Valley Bóghel. — The Large
Báure-tree. — Arrival near Ágades. — The Troopers. — Entrance into the
Town.
CHAP. XVII.
Ágades 397
The Retail Traders from Tawát. — The Learned ʿAbdallah. — Aspect of the
Town. — The Sultan’s Quarter. — Interview with the Chief. — Mohammed
Bóro’s House and Family. — Markets of Ágades. — Manufactures. — Native
Cavalry. — View of the Town. — The Kádhi. — Interior of Ágades. —
Various Visitors. — The “Fúra,” a Favourite Drink. — Manners and
Customs. — A Misadventure. — Language of Ágades the same as that of
Timbúktu. — My Friend Hamma. — The Fatal Dungeon. — Ceremony of
Investiture. — The Procession. — Visitors. — Rumours of War. — On
Rock-Inscriptions. — Visitors again. — Episode. — Parting with Bóro. —
Tailelt (Guinea-fowl) Tobes. — Áshu’s Garden. — Letters from the
Sultan. — Military Expedition. — Results of the Expedition. — Interior
of a House. — The Emgedesi Lady. — Ruinous Quarter. — Wanton Manners. —
The Mosque and Tower. — Interior of the Mosque. — Hostile Disposition
of the Kádhi. — Other Mosques in Ágades. — Enlightened Views. —
Preparations for Departure.
CHAP. XVIII.
History of Ágades 458
Ágades not Identical with Aúdaghost. — Meaning of the Name. — The
Songhay Conqueror Háj Mohammed Askiá (Leo’s Ischia). — The Associated
Tribes. — Leo’s Account of Ágades. — The Ighedálen. — Tegídda or
Tekádda. — Gógó and the Ancient Gold-Trade. — Position of the Ruler of
Ágades. — The Sultan and his Minister. — Meaning of the word “Turáwa.”
— The Town, its Population. — Period of Decline. — Ground-Plan and
Quarters of the Town. — Decline of Commerce. — Market Prices.
CHAP. XIX.
Departure from Ágades. — Stay in Tin-téggana 481
Abortive Commencement of Journey. — The Valley Tíggeda full of Life. —
Tintéllust Deserted. — Arrival in Tin-téggana. — Stay in Tin-téggana. —
Mohammed el Gatróni. — Turbulent State of the Country. — Conversation
on Religion. — Poor Diet. — Prolonged Delay. — Preparations for
Starting.
CHAP. XX.
Final Departure for Sudán 500
Taking Leave of Tin-téggana. — Trachytic Peak of Teléshera. — Valley of
Tánegat. — The Salt-caravan. — Wild Manners of the Tawárek. — Mount
Mári. — Richer Vegetation. — Well Álbes. — Tebu Merchants. — Chémia. —
Mount Bághzen. — Camels lost. — Rich Valley Unán. — Stone Dwellings of
Kél-gerés. — Christmas Day. — Taking Leave of Hamma.
CHAP. XXI.
The Border-region of the Desert. — The Tagáma 519
Travelling in earnest. — Home of the Giraffe and _Antilope leucoryx_. —
The Mágariá. — The _Cornus nabeca_ and the Feathery Bristle. — Princely
Present. — Animals (_Orycteropus Æthiopicus_). — The Tagáma; their
Peculiar character. — The Tarki Beauty. — New Plants. — Steep Descent.
— Ponds of Stagnant Water. — Corn-fields of Damerghú. — The Warlike
Chief Dan Íbra. — Ungwa Sámmit. — Negro Architecture. — Name of the Hut
in Various Languages. — Animal and Vegetable Kingdoms. — Horses
grazing. — Arrival in Tágelel. — The Ikázkezan Freebooter. —
Niggardliness of the Chief. — Towns and Villages of Damerghú. — The
Haunts of the Freebooters. — Market of Tágelel. — The “Devil’s Dance.”
* * * * *
APPENDIX.
I.
Route from Ágades to Sókoto 555
II.
Route from Ágades to Marádi, according to the Information of
the Kél-gerés Gojéri and his Companion Gháser 556
III.
Itinerary from Ágades to Damerghú, according to various
Informants 558
IV.
Route from Ágades to Bílma, according to the Émgedesi Éderi 558
V.
Route from Ágades to Tawát, according to ʿAbd-Alla 560
VI.
Route from Ágades to the Hillet e’ Sheikh Sídi el Mukhtár
in Azawád, according to the Kél-ferwán Baina 568
VII.
Fragments of Meteorological Register 571
[Footnote 5: “The people of Ágades at that time (the last quarter of the
last century)—though Ágades then belonged to the Cashna empire—were
annually permitted to load their immense caravans with the salt of
Bornou, from the salt lakes of Demboo” (the Tebu country?), “the
merchants of Ágades giving in return for the article a trifling price
in brass and copper.”—_Lucas, Proceedings of the African Association_,
vol. i. p. 159.]
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
IN
THE FIRST VOLUME.
* * * * *
MAPS.
Page
I. General Map of Africa _to face Preface_
II. Route through the Mountainous Region of
Tripoli „ 17
III. Route from Tripoli to Múrzuk „ 85
IV. Route from Múrzuk to Wádí Falésselez „ 171
V. Route from Falésselez to Tídik „ 241
VI. Route from Tídik to Tágelel „ 297
PLATES.
1. Aúderas _Frontispiece_
2. Wádí Welád ʿAlí _to face_ 29
3. Kasr Ghurián and W. Rummána „ 49
4. Mizda „ 100
5. El Hasi „ 141
6. Éderi „ 146
7. Múrzuk „ 168
8. Telísaghé „ 196
9. Ghát „ 238
10. Égeri „ 252
11. Tintéllust „ 334
12. Ágades „ 408
WOODCUTS.
Picturesque Fountain 27
General View of Enshéd e’ Sufét 34
The Monument 35
Aboriginal Structures 58
Kasr Dóga 70
Another pair of Pillars, with Slab and Sculpture of a Dog 74
Curious Sculpture 79
General View of Mizda 101
Kasr Khafaije ʿAámer 106
Ruins of Christian Church 108
Two Capitals 109
Ground-plan 111
Roman Sepulchre in Wádí Talha 113
Roman Sepulchre in Wádí Tagíje 117
Roman Sepulchre at Taboníye 124
Gateway of Roman Station at Gharíya 126
Ground-plan of Station 129
Encampment at Ugréfe 154
Roman Sepulchre near Jerma (Garama) 157
Ground-plan of Múrzuk 169
Tiggerurtín 173
Encampment at Tesémmak 189
Hatíta on his Camel 195
First Sculpture of Telisaghé (two deities) 197
Herd of Bulls 200
Bull jumping into a Ring 201
Mount Ídinen 213
Ground-plan of Quarters at Ghát 222
The Mountain Pass 251
Pond in Valley Égeri 253
Mount Tiska 258
Picturesque Peak 267
Mountain-ridge near Arókam 269
Indented Ridge 270
Stratified Mount 276
Mountain-group 292
View of Mountain-chains 294
Mountains of Tídik 311
Mount Kadamméllet 312
Mountains of Selúfiet 320
Valley of Fódet 329
Mount Cheréka and Eghellál 374
Mount Cheréka, from another side 375
Mountain-chain 377
Deep Chasm of Mount Eghellál 378
Mount Ágata 379
Mount Belásega 380
Valley Tíggeda 382
Distinguished Mount 388
Audience-hall of Chief of Ágades 400
Mohammed Bóro’s House 403
A Leather Box 406
Two Native Spoons 414
Ground-plan of a House 442
Another Ground-plan 446
View of the High Watch-tower 450
Ground-plan of Ágades 475
Encampment in Tin-téggana 488
Mount Mári, in profile 506
Mount Mári, in front 507
Mount Bághzen, from the east side 512
TRAVELS AND DISCOVERIES
IN
AFRICA.
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
FROM TUNIS TO TRIPOLI.
Mr. Richardson was waiting in Paris for despatches, when Mr. Overweg and
I reached Tunis, by way of Philippeville and Bona, on the 15th of
December, 1849; and having, through the kind interference of Mr. Ferrier
the British vice-consul, been allowed to enter the town after six days’
quarantine, we began immediately to provide ourselves with articles of
dress, while in the meantime we took most interesting daily rides to the
site of ancient Carthage.
Having procured many useful articles for our journey, and having found a
servant, the son of a freed slave from Gober, we left Tunis on the 30th
of December[6], and passed the first night in Hammám el Enf. Early next
morning we followed the charming route by Krumbália, which presents a no
less vivid specimen of the beauty and natural fertility of the Tunisian
country than of the desolate state to which it is at present reduced. We
then passed the fine gardens of Turki, a narrow spot of cultivation in a
wide desolate plain of the finest soil; and leaving el Khwín to our
right, we reached el Arbʿain.
Both these places enjoy a peculiar celebrity with the natives. El Khwín
is said to have been once a populous place; but nearly all its
inhabitants were destroyed by a spring of bituminous water, which
according to tradition, afterwards disappeared. El Arbʿain, the locality
of the “forty” martyrs, is a holy place; and ʿAli, our muleteer, in his
pious zeal, took up a handful of the sacred earth and sprinkled it over
us. It is a most picturesque spot. Keeping then along the wild plain
covered with a thick underwood of myrtle, we beheld in the distance the
highly picturesque and beautiful Mount Zaghwán, the Holy Mountain of the
ancient inhabitants, which rose in a majestic form; and we at length
reached Bir el buwíta, “the well of the little closet,” at one o’clock
in the afternoon. The “little closet,” however, had given place to a
most decent-looking whitewashed khán, where we took up our quarters in a
clean room. But our buoyant spirits did not allow us long repose; and a
quarter before eleven at night we were again on our mules.
I shall never forget this, the last night of the year 1849, which opened
to us a new era with many ordeals, and by our endurance of which we were
to render ourselves worthy of success. There were, besides ourselves,
our servants, and our two muleteers, four horsemen of the Bey, and three
natives from Jirbi. When midnight came my fellow traveller and I saluted
the new year with enthusiasm, and with a cordial shake of the hand
wished each other joy. Our Mohammedan companions were greatly pleased
when they were informed of the reason of our congratulating each other,
and wished us all possible success for the new year. We had also reason
to be pleased with them; for by their not inharmonious songs they
relieved the fatigue of a long, sleepless, and excessively cold night.
Having made a short halt under the olive-trees at the side of the
dilapidated town of Herkla, and taken a morsel of bread, we moved on
with our poor animals without interruption till half an hour after noon,
when we reached the funduk (or caravanserai) Sidi Bú Jʿafer, near Súsa,
where we took up our quarters, in order to be able to start again at
night, the gates of the town being kept shut till morning.[7]
Starting before three o’clock in the morning, we were exactly twelve
hours in reaching El Jem, with the famous Castle of the Prophetess,
still one of the most splendid monuments of Roman greatness overhanging
the most shabby hovels of Mohammedan indifference. On the way we had a
fine view, towards the west, of the picturesque Jebel Trutsa, along the
foot of which I had passed on my former wanderings, and of the wide,
out-stretching Jebel Useleet.
Another ride of twelve hours brought us, on the 3rd of January 1850, to
Sfákes, where we were obliged to take up our quarters in the town, as
our land-journey was here at an end, and we were to procure a vessel to
carry us either direct to Tripoli, or to some other point on the
opposite side of the Lesser Syrtis. The journey by land is not only
expensive, particularly for people who are encumbered with a good deal
of luggage, as we then were, and very long and tedious, but is also very
unsafe, as I found from experience on my former journey. The island of
Jirbi, which forms the natural station of the maritime intercourse
between the regency of Tunis and that of Tripoli, had been put under the
strictest rules of quarantine, rather from political considerations than
from those of health, all intercourse with the mainland having been cut
off. It was therefore with great difficulty that we succeeded in hiring
a “gáreb” to carry us to Zwára, in which we embarked in the forenoon of
Saturday the 5th of January.
During our two days’ stay in Sfákes we made the acquaintance of a Jew
calling himself Baránes, but who is in truth the Jew servant named Jacob
who accompanied Denham and Clapperton, and is several times mentioned in
the narrative of those enterprising travellers as self-conceited and
stubborn; yet he seems to be rather a clever fellow, and in some way or
other contrives to be on the best terms with the governor. He
communicated to us many anecdotes of the former expedition, and, among
other things, a very mysterious history of a Danish traveller in
disguise whom they met in Borno coming all the way from Dar-Fúr through
Wadaï. There is not the least mention of such a meeting in the journal
of the expedition, nor has such an achievement of a European traveller
ever been heard of; and I can scarcely believe the truth of this story,
though the Jew was quite positive about it.
The vessel in which we embarked was as miserable as it could be, there
being only a small low cabin as high as a dog-kennel, and measuring, in
its greatest width, from six to seven feet, where I and my companion
were to pass the night. We thought that a run of forty-eight hours, at
the utmost, would carry us across the gulf; but the winds in the Lesser
Syrtis are extremely uncertain, and sometimes so violent that a little
vessel is obliged to run along the coast.
At first we went on tolerably well; but the wind soon became
unfavourable, and in the evening we were obliged to cast anchor opposite
Nekta, and, to our despair, were kept there till the afternoon of
Tuesday, when at length we were enabled to go forward in our frail
little shell, and reached Méheres—not Sidi Méheres, as it is generally
called in the maps—in the darkness of night. Having made up our minds
rather to risk anything than to be longer immured in such a desperate
dungeon as our gáreb, we went on shore early on Wednesday morning with
all our things, but were not able to conclude a bargain with some
Bedowín of the tribe of the Léffet, who were watering their camels at
the well.
The majestic ruins of a large castle, fortified at each corner with a
round tower, give the place a picturesque appearance from the seaside.
This castle is well known to be a structure of the time of Ibrahim the
Aghlabite. In the midst of the ruins is a small mosque. But
notwithstanding the ruinous state of the place, and the desolate
condition of its plantations, there is still a little industry going on,
consoling to the beholder in the midst of the devastation to which the
fine province of Byzacium, once the garden of Carthage, is at present
reduced. Several people were busily employed in the little market-place
making mats; and in the houses looms, weaving baracans, were seen in
activity. But all around, the country presented a frightful scene of
desolation, there being no object to divert the eye but the two
apparently separate cones of Mount Wuedrán, far in the distance to the
west, said to be very rich in sheep. The officer who is stationed here,
and who showed us much kindness, furnishing us with some excellent red
radishes of extraordinary size, the only luxury which the village
affords, told us that not less than five hundred soldiers are quartered
upon this part of the coast. On my former journey I had ample
opportunity to observe how the Tunisian soldiery eat up the little which
has been left to the peaceable inhabitants of this most beautiful, but
most unfortunate country.
Having spent two days and two nights in this miserable place without
being able to obtain camels, we resolved to try the sea once more, in
the morning of the 11th, when the wind became northerly; but before the
low-water allowed us to go on board, the wind again changed, so that,
when we at length got under weigh in the afternoon, we could only move
on with short tacks. But our captain, protected as he was by the
Promontory of Méheres, dared to enter the open gulf. Quantities of large
fish in a dying state, as is often the case in this shallow water when
the wind has been high, were drifting round our boat.
The sun was setting when we at length doubled the promontory of Kasr
Unga, which we had already clearly distinguished on the 8th. However, we
had now overcome the worst; and when on the following morning I emerged
from our suffocating berth, I saw, to my great delight, that we were in
the midst of the gulf, having left the coast far behind us. I now heard
from our raïs that, instead of coasting as far as Tarf el má (“the
border of the water”), a famous locality in the innermost corner of the
Lesser Syrtis, which seems to preserve the memory of the former
connection between the gulf and the great Sebkha or Shot el Kebír (the
“palus Tritonis”), he had been so bold as to keep his little bark
straight upon the channel of Jirbi.
Our voyage now became interesting; for while we were advancing at a fair
rate, we had a charming view of the mountain-range, which in clear
contours extended along in the distance behind the date-groves on the
coast, seen only in faint outlines. The western part of the chain is
very low, and forms almost a group apart, but after having been
intersected by a gap or “gate,” the chain rises to greater elevation,
being divided, as it would seem from hence, into three separate ranges
enclosing fine valleys.
We had hoped to cross the difficult channel to-day; but the wind
failing, we were obliged to anchor and await the daylight, for it is not
possible to traverse the straits in the night, on account of their
extreme shallowness. Even in the light of the following day, when we at
length succeeded, our little bark, which drew only two or three feet,
struck twice, and we had some trouble to get afloat again. On the
conspicuous and elevated promontory the “Jurf,” or “Tarf el jurf,” stood
in ancient times a temple of Venus, the hospitable goddess of the
navigator. Here on my former journey I crossed with my horses over from
the main to the island of Jirbi, while from the water I had now a better
opportunity of observing the picturesque character of the rugged
promontory. After traversing the shallow basin or widening, we crossed
the second narrowing, where the castles which defended the bridge or
“kantara,” the “pons Zitha” of the Romans, now lie in ruins on the main
as well as on the island, and greatly obstruct the passage, the
difficulty of which has obtained celebrity from contests between Islam
and Christianity in comparatively modern times.
Having passed safely through this difficult channel, we kept steadily on
through the open sea; and doubling Rás Mʿamúra, near to which our
captain had a little date-grove and was cheerfully saluted by his family
and friends, we at length entered the harbour of Zarzís, late in the
afternoon of Sunday, and with some trouble got all our luggage carried
into the village, which is situated at some distance. For although we
had the worst part of the land journey now before us, the border-
district of the two regencies, with the unsafe state of which I was well
acquainted from my former journey, and although we were insufficiently
armed, we were disposed to endure anything rather than the imprisonment
to which we were doomed in such a vessel as our Mohammed’s gáreb. I
think, however, that this nine days’ sail between Sfákes and Zarzís, a
distance of less than a hundred and twenty miles, was on the whole a
very fair trial in the beginning of an undertaking the success of which
was mainly dependent upon patience and resolute endurance. We were
rather fortunate in not only soon obtaining tolerable quarters, but also
in arranging without delay our departure for the following day, by
hiring two horses and three camels.
Zarzís consists of five separate villages—Kasr Bú ʿAli, Kasr Mwanza,
Kasr Welád Mohammed, Kasr Welád Sʿaid, and Kasr Zawíya; the Bedowín in
the neighbourhood belong to the tribe of the Akára. The plantation also
is formed into separate date-groves. The houses are in tolerable repair
and neatly whitewashed; but the character of order and well-being is
neutralized by a good many houses in decay. Near the place there are
also some Roman ruins, especially a cistern of very great length; and at
some distance is the site of Medinet Ziyán, of which I have given a
description in the narrative of my former journey.
Besides the eight men attached to our five animals, we were joined here
by four pilgrims and three Tripolitan traders; we thus made up a
numerous body, armed with eight muskets, three blunderbusses, and
fourteen pistols, besides several straight swords, and could venture
upon the rather unsafe road to the south of the Lake of Bibán, though it
would have been far more agreeable to have a few trustworthy people to
rely on instead of these turbulent companions.
Entering soon, behind the plantation of Zarzís, a long narrow sebkha, we
were struck by the sterile and desolate character of the country, which
was only interrupted by a few small depressed localities, where a little
corn was cultivated. Keeping along this tract of country, we reached the
north-western corner of the Lake of Bibán, or Bahéret el Bibán, after a
little more than eight miles. This corner has even at the present day
the common name of Khashm el kelb (the Dog’s Nose), while the former
classical name of the whole lake, Sebákh el keláb, was only known to
Tayyef, the more learned of my guides, who, without being questioned by
me, observed that in former times towns and rich corn-fields had been
where the lake now is, but had been swallowed up by a sinking of the
ground.
The real basin has certainly nothing in common with a sebkha, which
means a shallow hollow, incrusted with salt, which at times is dry and
at others forms a pool; for it is a deep gulf or fiord of the sea, with
which it is connected only by a narrow channel called Wád mtʿa el Bibán.
The nature of a sebkha belongs at present only to its shores, chiefly to
the locality called Makháda, which, indenting the country to a great
distance, is sometimes very difficult to pass, and must be turned by a
wide circuitous path, which is greatly feared on account of the
neighbourhood of the Udérna, a tribe famous for its highway robberies.
Having traversed the Makháda (which at present was dry) without any
difficulty, we entered upon good arable soil, and encamped, after
sunset, at about half a mile distance from a Bedowín encampment.
[Sidenote: January 15th.]
Starting from here the following day, we soon became aware that the
country was not so thinly inhabited as we had thought; for numerous
herds covered the rich pasture-grounds, while droves of gazelles, now
and then, attested that the industry of man did not encroach here upon
the freedom of the various orders of creation. Leaving the path near the
ruins of a small building situated upon a hill, I went with Tayyef and
the Khalífa to visit the ruins of a Roman station on the border of the
Bahéra, which, under the name of el Medaina, has a great fame amongst
the neighbouring tribes, but which, with a single exception, are of
small extent and bad workmanship. This exception is the quay, which is
not only of interest in itself, formed as it is of regularly-hewn
stones, in good repair, but of importance as an evident proof that the
lake was much deeper in ancient times than it is now.
Traversing from this spot the sebkha, which our companions had gone
round, we soon overtook them, and kept over fine pasture-grounds called
el Fehén, and further on, Súllub, passing, a little after noon, a group
of ruins near the shore, called Kitfi el hamár. At two o’clock in the
afternoon, we had directly on our right a slight slope which, according
to the unanimous statement of our guides and companions, forms the
mágttʿa, مَقْطَعٌ, or frontier between the two regencies[8]; and keeping
along it we encamped an hour afterwards between the slope and the shore,
which a little further on forms the deep gulf called Mirsá Buréka.
[Sidenote: January 16th.]
Starting at an early hour, we reached after a march of ten miles the
ruins of a castle on the sea-shore, called Búrj el Melha, to which those
of a small village, likewise built of hewn stone, are joined, while a
long and imposing mole called el Míná juts out into the gulf. Four and a
half miles further on we reached the conspicuous hill on the top of
which is the chapel of the saint Sidi Sʿaid ben Salah, sometimes called
Sidi Gházi, and venerated by such of the natives as are not attached to
the Puritan sect of El Mádani, of which I shall speak hereafter. All our
companions went there to say a short prayer.
Here we left the shore, and, having watered our animals near a well and
passed the chapel of Sidi Sʿaid, close to which there are some ruins, we
passed with expedition over fine meadows till we approached the
plantation of Zowára, when, leaving Mr. Overweg and my people behind, I
rode on with the Khalífa, in order to procure quarters from my former
friend Sʿaid bu Semmín, who, as I had heard to my great satisfaction,
had been restored to the government of that place. He had just on that
very day returned from a visit of some length in the capital, and was
delighted to see me again; but he was rather astonished when he heard
that I was about to undertake a far more difficult and dangerous journey
than my former one along the coast, in which he well knew that I had had
a very narrow escape. However, he confided in my enterprising spirit and
in the mercy of the Almighty, and thought if anybody was likely to do
it, I was the man.[9]
[Sidenote: January 17th.]
We had now behind us the most dreary part of our route, having entered a
district which in ancient times numbered large and wealthy cities, among
which Sabratha stands foremost, and which even in the present miserable
state of the country is dotted with pleasant little date-groves,
interrupted by fine pasture-grounds. In the westernmost part of this
tract, however, with the exception of the plantation of Zowára, all the
date-groves, as those of Rikdalíye, Jemíl, el Meshíah, and Jenán ben
Síl, lie at a considerable distance from the coast, while the country
near the sea is full of sebkhas, and very monotonous, till the traveller
reaches a slight ridge of sand-hills about sixteen miles east from
Zowára, which is the border between the dreary province of that
government and a more favoured tract belonging to the government of
Bú-ʿAjíla, and which lies a little distance inland. Most charming was
the little plantation of Kasr ʿalaiga, which exhibited traces of
industry and improvement. Unfortunately our horses were too weak and too
much fatigued to allow us to visit the sites either of Sabratha or
Pontes. The ruins of Sabratha are properly called Kasr ʿalaiga, but the
name has been applied to the whole neighbourhood; to the ancient Pontes
seem to belong the ruins of Zowára e’ sherkíyeh, which are considerable.
Between them lies the pretty grove of Om el hallúf.
About four o’clock in the afternoon we traversed the charming little
valley called Wadi bú-harída, where we watered our horses; and then
following the camels, and passing Asermán with its little plantation,
which is bordered by a long and deep sebkha, we took up our quarters for
the night in an Arab encampment, which was situated in the midst of the
date-grove of ʿUkbah, and presented a most picturesque appearance, the
large fires throwing a magic light upon the date-trees. But there are no
roses without thorns: we were unfortunately persuaded to make ourselves
comfortable in an Arab tent, as we had no tent of our own; and the
enormous swarms of fleas not only disturbed our night’s rest, but
followed us to Tripoli.
We had a long stretch the following day to reach the capital, which we
were most anxious to accomplish, as we expected Mr. Richardson would
have arrived before us in consequence of our own tedious journey; and
having sent the Khalífa in advance to keep the gate open for us, we
succeeded in reaching the town after an uninterrupted march of thirteen
hours and a half, and were most kindly received by Mr. Crowe, Her
Majesty’s consul-general, and the vice-consul Mr. Reade, with whom I was
already acquainted. We were surprised to find that Mr. Richardson had
not even yet been heard of, as we expected he would come direct by way
of Malta. But he did not arrive till twelve days after. With the
assistance of Mr. Reade, we had already finished a great deal of our
preparations, and would have gladly gone on at once; but neither the
boat, nor the instruments, nor the arms or tents had as yet arrived, and
a great deal of patience was required. However, being lodged in the neat
house of the former Austrian consul, close to the harbour, and which
commands a charming prospect, our time passed rapidly by.
On the 25th of January Mr. Reade presented Mr. Overweg and me to Yezíd
Bashá, the present governor, who received us with great kindness and
good feeling. On the 29th we had a pleasant meeting with Mr. Frederic
Warrington on his return from Ghadámes, whither he had accompanied Mr.
Charles Dickson, who on the 1st of January had made his entry into that
place as the first European agent and resident. Mr. F. Warrington is
perhaps the most amiable possible specimen of an Arabianized European.
To this gentleman, whose zeal in the objects of the expedition was
beyond all praise, I must be allowed to pay my tribute as a friend. On
setting out in 1850, he accompanied me as far as the Ghurián; and on my
joyful return in 1855 he received me in Murzuk. By the charm of
friendship he certainly contributed his share to my success.
[Footnote 6: I cannot leave Tunis without mentioning the great interest
taken in our undertaking, and the kindness shown to us, by M. le Baron
Théis, the French consul.]
[Footnote 7: The town presented quite the same desolate character which
I have described in my former journey, with the single exception that a
new gate had since been built. Several statues had been brought from
Medinet Ziyán.]
[Footnote 8: This point is not without importance, as a great deal of
dispute has taken place about the frontier. Having on my former journey
kept close along the seashore, I have laid it down erroneously in the
map accompanying the narrative of that journey.]
[Footnote 9: I will here correct the mistake which I made in my former
narrative, when I said that Zowára is not mentioned by Arabic authors.
It is certainly not adverted to by the more celebrated and older
writers; but it is mentioned by travellers of the 14th century,
especially by the Sheikh e’ Tijáni.]
[Illustration: DR. BARTH’S TRAVELS IN NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA Sheet No.
2.
MAP OF THE ROUTE through the YÉFREN, GHURIÁN, TARHÓNA & MESELLÁTA MTS. 4
to 26 February 1850.
Constructed and drawn by A. Petermann.
Engraved by E. Weller, _Duke Strt. Bloomsbury._
_London, Longman & Co._]
CHAP. II.
TRIPOLI. — THE PLAIN AND THE MOUNTAIN-SLOPE; THE ARAB AND THE BERBER.
In the Introduction I have given a rapid sketch of our journey from
Tunis, and pointed out the causes of our delay in Tripoli. As soon as it
became apparent that the preparations for our final departure for the
interior would require at least a month, Mr. Overweg and I resolved to
employ the interval in making a preliminary excursion through the
mountainous region that encompasses Tripoli in a radius of from sixty to
eighty miles.
With this view, we hired two camels, with a driver each, and four
donkeys, with a couple of men, for ourselves and our two servants,
Mohammed Belāl, the son of a liberated Háusa slave, and Ibrahim, a
liberated Bagirmi slave, whom we had been fortunate enough to engage
here; and through the Consul’s influence we procured a shoush, or
officer, to accompany us the whole way.
Neither the instruments provided by Her Majesty’s Government, nor the
tents and arms, had as yet arrived. But Mr. Overweg had a good sextant,
and I a good chronometer, and we were both of us provided with tolerably
good compasses, thermometers, and an aneroid barometer. Mr. Frederic
Warrington, too, was good enough to lend us a tent.
We had determined to start in the afternoon of the 4th of February,
1850, so as to pass the first night in Ghargásh; but meeting with
delays, we did not leave the town till after sunset. We preferred
encamping, therefore, in the Meshíah, a little beyond the mosque, under
the palm-trees, little knowing at the time what an opportunity we had
lost of spending a very cheerful evening.
[Sidenote: February 5th.]
Soon after starting, we emerged from the palm-groves which constitute
the charm of Tripoli, and continued our march over the rocky ground.
Being a little in advance with the shoush, I halted to wait for the
rest, when a very peculiar cry, that issued from the old Roman building
on the road-side, called “Kasr el Jahalíyeh,” perplexed us for a moment.
But we soon learnt, to our great surprise, not unmixed with regret, that
it was our kind friend Frederic Warrington, who had been waiting for us
here the whole night. From the top of the ruin, which stands on an
isolated rock left purposely in the midst of a quarry, there is a widely
extensive view. It appears that, before the Arabs built the castle, this
site was occupied by Roman sepulchres. A little further on we passed the
stone of Sidi ʿArífa. This stone had fallen upon the head of a workman
who was digging a well. The workman, so runs the legend, escaped unhurt;
and at Sidi ʿArífa’s word the stone once more sprung to the surface.
Further on, near the sea-shore, we passed the chapel of Sidi Salah, who
is said to have drawn by magic to his feet, from the bottom of the sea,
a quantity of fish ready dressed.
From this point our kind friend Mr. Frederic Warrington returned with
his followers to the town, and we were left to ourselves. We then turned
off from the road, and entered the fine date-plantation of Zenzúr,
celebrated in the fourteenth century, as one of the finest districts of
Barbary, by the Sheikh e’ Tijáni, passing by a great magazine of corn,
and a mouldering clay-built castle, in which were quartered a body of
horsemen of the Urshefāna. Fine olive-trees pleasingly alternated with
the palm-grove, while the borders of the broad sandy paths were neatly
fenced with the _Cactus opuntia_. Having passed our former place of
encampment in Sayáda, we were agreeably surprised to see at the western
end of the plantation a few new gardens in course of formation; for
there is a tax, levied not on the produce of the tree, but on the tree
itself, which naturally stands in the way of new plantations.
Having halted for a short time at noon near the little oasis of Sidi
Ghár, where the ground was beautifully adorned with a profusion of
lilies; and having passed Jedaim, we encamped towards evening in the
wide courtyard of the Kasr Gamúda, where we were kindly received by the
Kaimakám Mustapha Bey, whom I was providentially destined to meet twice
again, viz. on my outset from, and on my final return to, Fezzan. The
whole plantation of Zawíya, of which Gamúda forms a part, is said to
contain a hundred and thirty thousand palm-trees.
Ibrahim gave me an interesting account to-day of Negroland. Though a
native of Bagirmi, he had rambled much about Mandara, and spoke
enthusiastically of the large and strong mountain-town Karawa, his
report of which I afterwards found quite true; of the town of Mendif,
situated at the foot of the great mountain of the same name; and of
Mora, which he represented as very unsafe on account of bands of
robbers,—a report which has been entirely confirmed by Mr. Vogel. Our
chief interest at that time was concentrated upon Mandara, which was
then supposed to be the beginning of the mountainous zone of Central
Africa.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, February 6th.]
While the camels were pursuing the direct track, we ourselves, leaving
our former road, which was parallel to the sea-coast, and turning
gradually towards the south, made a circuit through the plantation, in
order to procure a supply of dates and corn, as we were about to enter
on the zone of nomadic existence. The morning was very fine, and the
ride pleasant. But we had hardly left the plantation, when we exchanged
the firm turf for deep sand-hills which were broken further on by a more
favoured soil, where melons were cultivated in great plenty; and again,
about four miles beyond the plantation, the country once more assumed a
genial aspect. I heard that many of the inhabitants of Zawiya habitually
exchange every summer their more solid town residences for lighter
dwellings here in the open air. A little before noon we obtained a fine
view over the diversified outlines of the mountains before us.
In the plain there are many favoured spots bearing corn, particularly
the country at the foot of Mount Mʿamúra, which forms a very conspicuous
object from every side. As we advanced further, the country became well
inhabited, and everywhere, at some distance from the path, were seen
encampments of the tribe of the Belása who occupy all the grounds
between the Urshefána and the Bu-ʿAjíla, while the Urjímma, a tribe
quite distinct from the Urghámma, have their settlements S.W., between
the Nuwayíl and the Bu-ʿAjíla. All these Arabs hereabouts provide
themselves with water from the well Núr e’ dín, which we left at some
distance on our left.
The encampment near which we pitched our tent in the evening belonged to
the chief of the Belása, and consisted of seven tents, close to the
slope of a small hilly chain. We had scarcely pitched our tent when rain
set in, accompanied by a chilly current of air which made the encampment
rather uncomfortable. The chief, Mohammed Chélebi, brought us, in the
evening, some bazín; the common dish of the Arab of Tripoli. We wanted
to regale him with coffee, but, being afraid of touching the hot drink,
and perhaps suspicious of poison, he ran away.
[Sidenote: Thursday February 7th.]
Continuing our march southward through the fine and slightly undulating
district of El Habl, where water is found in several wells, at the depth
of from fifteen to sixteen fathoms, we gradually approached the
mountain-chain. The strong wind, which filled the whole air with sand,
prevented us from obtaining a very interesting view from a considerable
eminence called el Ghunna, the terminating and culminating point of a
small chain of hills, which we ascended. For the same reason, when I and
Ibrahim, after lingering some time on this interesting spot, started
after our camels, we lost our way entirely, the tracks of our little
caravan being totally effaced, and no path traceable over the undulating
sandy ground. At length we reached firmer grassy soil, and, falling in
with the path, overtook our people at the “Bir el Ghánem.”
Hence we went straight towards the slope of the mountains, and after
little more than an hour’s march reached the first advanced hill of the
chain, and began to enter on it by going up one of the wadis which open
from its flanks. It takes its name from the ethel (_Tamarix
orientalis_), which here and there breaks the monotony of the scene, and
gradually widens to a considerable plain bounded by majestic ridges.
From this plain we descended into the deep and rugged ravine of the
large Wadi Sheikh, the abrupt cliffs of which presented to view
beautiful layers of red and white sandstone, with a lower horizontal
layer of limestone, and we looked out for a well-sheltered place, as the
cold wind was very disagreeable. The wadi has its name from its vicinity
to the chapel, or zawiya, of the Merábet Bu-Máti, to which is attached a
large school.
[Sidenote: Friday, February 8th.]
On setting out from this hollow we ascended the other side, and soon
obtained an interesting view of the varied outlines of the mountains
before us, with several half-deserted castles of the Arab middle ages on
the summits of the hills. The castle of the Welád Merabetín, used by the
neighbouring tribes chiefly as a granary, has been twice destroyed by
the Turks; but on the occasion of nuptial festivities, the Arabs, in
conformity with ancient usage, still fire their muskets from above the
castle. The inhabitants of these mountains, who have a strong feeling of
liberty, cling to their ancient customs with great fondness.
We descended again into Wadi Sheikh, which, winding round, crossed our
path once more. The regular layers of limestone, which present a good
many fossils, with here and there a layer of marl, form here, during
heavy rains, a pretty little cascade at the foot of the cliffs. We lost
much time by getting entangled in a branch of the wadi, which had no
outlet, but exhibited the wild scenery of a glen, worn by the torrents
which occasionally rush down the abrupt rocky cliffs. Having regained
the direct road, we had to cross a third time the Wadi Sheikh at the
point where it is joined by Wadi Ginna, or Gilla, which also we crossed
a little further on. In the fertile zone along the coast, the monotony
of the palm-groves becomes almost fatiguing; but here we were much
gratified at the sight of the first group of date-trees, which was
succeeded by others, and even by a small orchard of fig-trees. Here, as
we began to ascend the elevated and abrupt eastern cliffs of the valley,
which at first offer only a few patches of cultivated plateau, succeeded
further on by olive-trees, a fine view opened before us, extending to
the S.E. as far as the famous Roman monument called Enshéd e’ Sufét,
which is very conspicuous. Having waited here for our camels, we reached
the first village, whose name, “Ta-smeraye,” bears, like that of many
others, indubitable proof that the inhabitants of these mountainous
districts belong originally to the Berber race, though at present only a
few of them speak their native tongue. These people had formerly a
pleasant and comfortable abode in this quarter, but having frequently
revolted against the Turks, they have been greatly reduced, and their
villages at present look like so many heaps of ruins.
Having passed some other hamlets in a similar state of decay, and still
going through a pleasant but rather arid country, we reached the
oppressor’s stronghold, the “Kasr il Jebel,” as it is generally called,
although this part of the mountains bears the special name of Yefren. It
lies on the very edge of the steep rocky cliffs, and affords an
extensive view over the plain. But though standing in a commanding
position, it is itself commanded by a small eminence a few hundred yards
eastward, where there was once a large quadrangular structure, now in
ruins.
The castle, which at the time of our visit was the chief instrument in
the hands of the Turks for overawing the mountaineers, contained a
garrison of four hundred soldiers. It has only one bastion with three
guns, at the southern corner, and was found by Mr. Overweg to be 2150
feet above the level of the sea. The high cliffs inclosing the valley
are most beautifully and regularly stratified in layers of gypsum and
limestone; and a man may walk almost round the whole circumference of
the ravine on the same layer of the latter stone, which has been left
bare,—the gypsum, of frailer texture, having been carried away by the
torrents of rain which rush violently down the steep descent. From the
little eminence above mentioned, there is a commanding view over the
valleys and the high plain towards the south.
After our tent had been pitched, we received a visit from Haj Rashíd,
the Kaimakám or governor, who is reckoned the second person in the
Bashalík, and has the whole district from Zwára as far as Ghadámes
towards the S.W., and the Tarhóna towards the S.E., under his military
command. His salary is 4600 mahhbúbs annually, or about 720_l._ He had
previously been Basha of Adana, in Cilicia; and we indulged, to our
mutual gratification, in reminiscences of Asia Minor.
[Sidenote: Saturday, February 9th.]
Early in the morning I walked to a higher eminence at some distance
eastward from the castle, which had attracted my attention the day
before. This conspicuous hill also was formerly crowned with a tower or
small castle; but nothing but a solitary rustic dwelling now enlivens
the solitude. The view was very extensive, but the strong wind did not
allow of exact compass observations. While my companion remained near
the castle, engaged in his geological researches, I agreed with our
shoush and a Zintáni lad whom I accidentally met here, and who on our
journey to Fezzan proved very useful, to undertake a longer excursion
towards the west, in order to see something more of this interesting and
diversified slope of the plateau.
I was anxious to visit a place called Ta-gherbúst, situated on the north
side of the castle, along the slope of a ravine which runs westward into
the valley; accordingly, on leaving the site of our encampment, we
deviated at first a little northwards. Ta-gherbúst is said to have been
a rich and important place in former times. Some of its inhabitants
possessed as many as ten slaves; but at present it is a heap of ruins,
with scarcely twenty-five inhabited houses. From hence, turning
southward, we descended gradually along the steep slope, while above our
heads the cliffs rose in picturesque majesty, beautifully adorned by
scattered date-trees, which, at every level spot, sprung forth from the
rocky ground, and gave to the whole scene a very charming character. A
fountain which gushed out from a cavern on a little terrace at the foot
of the precipice, and fed a handsome group of date-trees, was one of the
most beautiful objects that can be imagined.
[Illustration]
The Turks, two years ago, made a small path leading directly down from
the castle to this fountain, which supplies them with water. After
sketching this beautiful spot while the animals were watering, we
followed a more gradual descent into the valley of el Ghasás, which here
with a rough level widens to a plain, while its upper or southern part,
called Wadi Rumíye, forms a very narrow and picturesque ravine. We then
continued our march in a westerly direction, having on our right the
plain extending, with slight undulations, towards the sea, and on our
left the majestic offshoots of the plateau jutting into the plain like
vast promontories, with a general elevation of two thousand feet. This
grand feature is evidently due to the waters which, in ancient times,
must have rushed down the slope of the plateau in mighty streams. At
present, the chief character of the country is aridity. On asking my
guide whether great torrents are not still occasionally formed along
those ravines strong enough to reach the sea, he replied, that once
only—forty-four years ago—such a torrent was formed, which, passing by
Zenzúr, gave a red colour to the sea as far as the Island of Jirbi. He
also informed me that, in general, all the waters from the ridge joined
the Wadi Haera.[10]
On our left, in the valley Khalaifa, a group of date-trees, fed by an
abundant spring called ʿAin el Wuaníye, forms a conspicuous and
interesting object; while, in general, these valleys or ravines exhibit,
besides small brushwood, only trees of the siddre, (_Rhamnus nabeca_),
jári, and batúm tribe. The batúm-tree (_Pistacia Atlantica_) produces
the fruit called gatúf, which is used by the Arabs for a great variety
of purposes. Small brushwood or gandul, also, and various sorts of
herbage, such as sebót, shedíde, and shʿade, enliven the ground.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
WADI WÉLAD ʿALI.
Feby. 9th. 1850.]
As we advanced, we changed our direction gradually to the south-west,
and entered the mountainous region. On our right there extended far into
the plain a steep narrow promontory, which had served as a natural
fortress to the mountaineers in the last war with the Turks; but no
water being found near it, its occupants were soon reduced to
extremities. Having gone round the last promontory on our left, we
entered the picturesque valley “Welád ʿAli,” once adorned with orchards
and groves of date-trees, but at present reduced to a desolate
wilderness, only a few neglected fig-trees and scattered palms still
remaining to prove how different the condition of this spot might be.
After we had commenced our ascent along the side of the ravine, in order
to return upon the level of the plateau, we made a short halt near a
cluster of about eighty date-trees, where I made the sketch of the
accompanying view. But the ascent became extremely steep, especially
near the middle of the slope, where the water, rushing down in cascades,
has laid bare the limestone rock, and formed a sort of terrace. Here, on
the east side of the cascade, is a spring in a well, called ʿAin el
Gatár mtʿa Welád ʿAli. On both of the summits overlooking the slope are
two villages of the Riaina, the eastern one a little larger than the
other, but at present not containing more than about thirty stone-built
cottages. In both we tried in vain to buy a little barley for our
cattle, as we knew not whether, at our halting-place for the night, we
might be able to obtain any; but we got plenty of dried figs for
ourselves. This slope, with its ravines and valleys, might certainly
produce a very considerable quantity of fruit; and in this respect it
resembles in character that of the so-called Kabylia in Algiers. The
rearing of fruit-trees seems to be a favourite occupation of the Berber
race, even in the more favoured spots of the Great Desert.
Continuing our march on the summit of the plateau, we reached the
village Kasr Shellūf, which exhibited far greater opulence, as it had
escaped being ransacked by the Turks in the last war. Most probably in
consequence of this circumstance, its inhabitants are more hospitably
disposed than those of Riaina: but the cave or cellar in which they
wanted to lodge me, had nothing very attractive for a night’s quarters,
so that I urged my two companions onward. Having continued our south-
westerly direction for awhile, and passed another village, we thought it
safer to turn our steps eastwards, and took the direction of the zawíya
or convent situated on the summit of the promontory; but when we reached
it, just after dusk, the masters or teachers of the young men, who are
sent to this holy place for education, refused to admit us for the
night, so that we were obliged to go on and try to reach one of the five
villages of Khalaifa. At length, after a very difficult descent down the
steep rocky slope in the dark, we succeeded in reaching the principal
village, and, after some negotiation, occasioned by the absence of the
Kaid Bel Kasem, who is chief of the Khalaifa as well as of the Wuërje,
we at length obtained admission, and even something to eat, my
companions (rather against my will) representing me as a Turk.
[Sidenote: Sunday, February 10th.]
Our route on leaving the village was very pleasant, winding round the
sloping sides of several ravines, among which that formed by the rivulet
Wuaniye, and adorned with date-trees, was the most beautiful. Ascending
gradually, we reached again the level of the plateau, and obtained an
extensive prospect, with the remarkable monument Enshéd e’ Sufét as a
conspicuous and attractive landmark in the distance. The elevated level
had a slight undulation, and was clothed with halfa (_Cynosurus durus_)
and gedím. However, we did not long continue on it, but descended into
the well-irrigated valley Rumíye, which is extremely fertile, but also
extremely unhealthy, and notorious for its fevers. The beauty of the
scenery, enlivened as it is by a considerable torrent foaming along the
ravine, and feeding luxuriant clusters of palm, pomegranate, fig, and
apricot trees, surpassed my expectation.
Having kept awhile along this picturesque ravine, we ascended its
eastern side, and then followed the very edge of the steep, directly for
the castle; but before reaching our tent we were obliged to cross a deep
branch of the ravine. There was some little activity to-day about the
castle, it being the market-day; but the market was really miserable,
and the Turkish troops, exercising outside the castle, could ill supply
the want of national welfare and prosperity. If a just and humane
treatment were guaranteed to these tribes, even under a foreign rule,
the country might still enjoy plenty and happiness. Most of the tribes
westward from the Riaina—namely, the Zintán, who formerly were very
powerful, and even at present hold some possessions as far as Fezzan,
the Rujbán, the Fissátu, the Welád Shebel, the Selemát, the Arhebát, the
Harába, the Génafíd, the Kabáw, and, the Nalúd, belong to the Berber
race. With regard to the westernmost of these tribes, M. Prax on his way
to Tuggúrt, has obtained some new information.
After a friendly parting from the Kaimakám, we broke up our encampment
near the kasr, in the afternoon, in order to continue our tour eastward
along the varied border of the plateau, under the guidance of a faithful
black servant of the governor, whose name was Barka. Having passed
several smaller villages, we reached Um e’ Zerzán, a considerable
village, situated on a round hill in the midst of a valley, ornamented
with fine olive-trees, and surrounded by fine orchards. Um e’ Zerzán is
well known among the mountaineers as a centre of rebellion. The whole
neighbourhood is full of reminiscences of the late war, and about two
miles in the rear of the village are the remains of strong walls called
el Matarís, behind which the Arabs made some stand against the Turks.
Having passed a solitary rustic dwelling surrounded with a thriving
olive-plantation, we reached the ruins of a castle or village from which
the Roman sepulchre, known among the Arabs by the name Enshéd e’ Sufét,
burst suddenly upon our view.
[Sidenote: Monday, February 11th.]
After an extremely cold night on this high rocky ground, the thermometer
in the morning indicating only 5° above freezing-point, with the dawn of
day I mounted the hill opposite to the monument, commanding an extensive
view.[11] It was a level tableland, uninterrupted by any higher
eminence; but the landscape seemed to me highly characteristic, and I
made a sketch of it.
Upon this hill there was formerly a castle built of hewn stone. The
foundation-walls, which are still traceable, show that it faced the
east, the eastern and the western sides measuring each 57 ft. 8 in., the
northern and southern, not more than 54 ft. On the eastern side there
was a strong outwork protecting the gate, and measuring 16 ft. 11 in. on
the north and south sides, and 12 ft. 1 in. on the east side, where
there was a large gate 9 ft. 1 in. wide. This outwork juts off from the
castle at 17 ft. 6 in. from the south corner. It was evidently a Roman
castle; but after the dominion of the Romans and Byzantines had passed
away, the Berbers appear to have strengthened it by adding another
outwork on the west side, not, however, in the same grand style as the
Romans, but with small irregular stones, putting bastions to the
corners, and surrounding the whole castle with considerable outworks on
the slope of the hill.
[Illustration]
The Roman castle has been swept away; but the Roman sepulchre is still
preserved, with almost all its architectural finery, and is still
regarded by the surrounding tribes with a certain awe and reverence.[12]
It was most probably the sepulchre of a Roman commander of the castle in
the time of the Antonines; hence, in my opinion, the name Sufét, by
which the natives have distinguished it. It is certainly not a Punic
monument, though it is well known that the Punic language was generally
spoken in several towns of this region much later than the second
century after Christ. The style of its architecture testifies that it
belongs to the second century; but no inscription remains to tell its
story.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
This interesting monument is situated on an eminence a little less
elevated than that on which the castle is built, and south-westward from
it. Its whole height is about 36 ft. The base or pedestal measures 16
ft. 8¾ in. on the W. and E., and 16 ft. N. and S. Its elevation varies
greatly from E. to W., on account of the sloping ground, the eastern
side measuring 3 ft. 2 in., the western 5 ft. 7 in. In the interior of
this base is the sepulchral chamber, measuring 7 ft. 1 in. from N. to
S., and 6 ft. 6 in. from E. to W., and remarkable for the peculiar
construction of the roof. Upon this lowest part of the base rises a
second one 15 ft. 9 in. W. and E., 14 ft. 3¾ in. N. and S., and 2 ft. 1
in. high; and on this a third one, measuring 14 ft. 7½ in. W. and E., 13
ft. 10¼ in. N. and S., and 1 ft. 7 in. in height. Upon this base rose
the principal part of the monument, 13 ft. 7 in. high, and measuring at
its foot 13 ft. 11½ in. W. and E., decorated at the corners with
pilasters, the feet of which measure 1 ft. 1¾ in., and the shaft 9¾ in.
The moulding is handsomely decorated. Upon this principal body of the
monument is constructed the upper story, about 10 feet high, decorated
with pilasters of the Corinthian order. On the south and west sides the
walls are plain; but on the east side they are ornamented with a bow
window enclosed with pilasters of the same order, and on the north side
with a plain window running up the whole height of the body. Inside of
this chamber stood, probably, the statue of the person in whose honour
the monument was erected. The upper compartment has a plain moulding
about four feet high, and surmounted by a cornice.
The material of this interesting monument is a very fine limestone,
which under the influence of the atmosphere has received a vivid
brownish colour, almost like that of travertine. It was taken from a
quarry, which extends all round the monument, and is full of caverns now
used by shepherds as resting-places when they tend their flocks
hereabouts.
Our camels had already gone on some time before we parted from this
solitary memorial of Roman greatness; and after a little distance we
passed the ruins of another Roman fort called Hanshír Hámed. The country
hereabouts, forming a sort of bowl or hollow, and absorbing a great deal
of moisture, is very fertile, and is also tolerably well cultivated; but
after a while it becomes stony. Having here passed a village, we reached
a beautiful little valley, the head of the Wadi Sheikh, which is
irrigated by two springs, that feed a splendid little orchard with all
sorts of fruit. Here lies Swédna, a considerable village spreading over
the whole eminence, and known on account of the murder of Mohammed
Efendi. As the valley divides into two branches, we followed the main
wadi, and afterwards crossed it, where it formed a pretty brook of
running water. We then wound along a narrow valley overgrown with halfa
and sidr, and, changing our direction, took the road to Kikla. The
valley soon became decked with olives, which gradually formed a fine
plantation. This is the chief branch of industry of the inhabitants, the
ground being rather stony, and not so fit for grain. The district of
Kikla contains numerous villages, all of which suffered much from the
last war, when a great number of people were slaughtered, and their
dwellings ransacked, by the Turks.[13] Several of these villages lay in
small hollows, or on the slope of ravines, and exhibited rather a
melancholy appearance. After some delay, we resumed our easterly
direction towards Rabda, and soon came to the spot where the elevated
ground descends abruptly into the deep and broad valley called Wadi
Rabda, over which we obtained an interesting view. To the left the slope
broke into a variety of cones and small mounts, among which the
Tarhóna—“the mill,” so called from a mill that stood formerly on its
summit—is remarkable for its handsome shape; while in front of us rose
an almost perpendicular cliff of limestone, on a turn of which, in a
very commanding position, lies the village Jáfet, enclosed, and
naturally defended, on every side by a deep ravine. Here we commenced
our descent, which took us a whole hour; on the middle of the slope we
passed a kiln for preparing gypsum. At length we reached the side
valley, which joins the main wadi on the west. It was ornamented with a
few solitary date-trees, and the beautifully shaped slopes and cones of
the Tarhóna were just illuminated by a striking variety of light and
shade. The soil, a fertile marl, remained uncultivated. Gradually we
entered the main valley, a grand chasm of about four miles and a half in
width, which has been formed by the mighty rushing of the waters
down[14] the slope of the plateau. In its upper part it is called Wadi
Kérdemín, in its lower part Wadi Sert. The industry of man might convert
it into a beautiful spot; but at present it is a desolate waste, the
monotonous halfa being the only clothing of the ground.
The eastern border presents a perpendicular rocky cliff about 1500 feet
high, on the brink of which lies the village Misga. The western border
consists of a cluster of detached mounts and rocks. Among these a black
cone, which attracted Mr. Overweg’s attention, was found on examination
to be pure basalt, with certain indications of former volcanic action.
From beyond this remarkable cone, a mount was visible crowned with a
castle. As we proceeded, the valley became enlivened by two small Arab
encampments. Here we gradually obtained a view of the date-grove of
Rabda, which, from the foot of the steep eastern cliffs, slopes down
into the bottom of the valley, and is overtopped, in the distance, by
the handsome bifurcated Mount Manterús. But Rabda was too far off to be
reached before sunset; and we encamped in the wadi, near a group of five
tents inhabited by Lasāba or el Asāba Arabs, whose chief paid us a visit
and treated us with bazín, but declined tasting our coffee, probably
thinking, with his fellow-chief the other day, that we were in the
service of the Turks, and wanted to poison him. All the people of these
regions regard strangers with suspicion.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, February 12th.]
Soon after we had started we entered upon cultivated ground,—the first
trace of industry we had seen in this spacious valley. The eastern
cliffs formed here a wide chasm, through which a lateral valley joined
the Wadi Sert. On the southern slope of this valley lies the Kasr
Lasába, from which a torrent that came forth from it, and crossed our
route, presented a refreshing spectacle. Emerging gradually from the
valley, we obtained an extensive view over the plain called el Gatīs.
Westward, as far as the well called Bír el Ghánem, little was to be seen
which could gladden the eye of the husbandman. Towards the north-east
the level is interrupted by a small range of hills, the culminating
points of which, called el Guleát and Mʿanmúra rise to a great
elevation. Beyond this range the plain is called Shefána, the country of
the Ur-shefána.
At nine o’clock we reached the fine date-grove of the westernmost
village of Rabda. It is fed by a copious spring, which arrested our
attention. Following it up to trace its source, we were greatly
surprised to find, in the heart of some date-trees, a basin fifty feet
in length, and about thirty in breadth, in which the water was
continually bubbling up and sending forth a considerable stream to
spread life and cheerfulness around. The water gushed up at a
temperature of 72° Fahrenheit, while that of the air was only 52°.
Besides dates, a large quantity of onions is produced in this fertile
spot. The village itself was in former times the residence of Hamíd, a
powerful Arab chieftain, who at one time ruled the whole mountainous
district, but was obliged to yield to the Turks, and lives at present
about Beni-Ulíd, where I had to deal with him on my home-journey in
1855.
The groves of the two villages of Rabda are not far apart. On the north-
eastern side of the village are seven holy chapels called el Hararát.
The eastern village lies upon a hill, over a hollow, in which spreads a
date-grove, likewise fed by a spring called ʿAin Rabda e’ sherkíyeh. On
crossing a brook we obtained a view of the Jebel Shehésh, which,
attached to the Tahōna, stretches a long way westward, and even el Gunna
was seen faintly in the distance. Thus we approached gradually the
interesting bicorn of the dark-coloured Jebel Manterús, which we were
bent on ascending. Alighting at the foot of the mount, near the border
of a deep channel, we sent the camels on, but kept the shoush and our
guide back to wait for us. It took me twenty-five minutes to reach the
eastern and higher summit, on which there is the tomb of a merábet, a
holy shepherd called Sidi Bu-Mʿaza; but I was disappointed in my
expectation of obtaining a great extent of view, the cone of Mount Tekút
and other mountains intervening. Towards the south only, a peep into the
Wadi el Ugla, bordered by high cliffs, slightly rewarded me for my
trouble; and the mount itself is interesting, as it exhibits evident
traces of volcanic action.
I had reached the western lower cone in descending, when I met my
companion in his ascent, and, being anxious to overtake the camels, I
started in advance of him, accompanied by the guide, along the Wadi el
Ugla. But my companions did not seem to agree as to the path to be
pursued; and my guide, overlooking on the rocky ground the footsteps of
the camels, which had taken the direct path to the Kasr Ghurián, wanted
to take me by the wadi, and, instead of ascending the eastern cliffs of
the ravine, kept along it, where, from being narrow and rocky—the mere
bed of a torrent,—it widens to a pleasant, cultivated, open valley, with
rich marly soil, and adorned with an olive-grove. On a hill in the
centre lies the first village of the district Ghurián.
We had begun to leave the principal valley by a lateral opening, when
the shoush, overtaking us, led us back to the more northern and more
difficult but shorter path which our camels had taken. The ascent was
very steep indeed; and the path then wound along the mountain-side and
across ravines, till at length we reached the olive-grove which
surrounds the Kasr Ghurián; but in the dark we had some difficulty in
reaching it, and still more in finding our companions, who at length,
however, rejoined the party. In order to obtain something to eat, we
were obliged to pay our respects to the governor; but the Turks in the
castle were so suspicious that they would scarcely admit us. When at
last they allowed us to slip through the gate in single file, they
searched us for arms; but the governor having assured himself that we
had no hostile intention, and that we were furnished with a letter from
the basha, sent a servant to procure us a lodging in the homestead or
housh of a man called Ibrahim, where we pitched our tent. It was then
nine o’clock; and we felt quite disposed to enjoy some food and repose.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, February 13th.]
We paid a visit to the governor, who, as well as the aghá, received us
with the civility usual with Turks, and, in order to do us honour,
ordered the garrison, consisting of 200 men, to pass in review before
us. They were good-looking men and well conditioned, though generally
rather young. He then showed us the magazines, which are always kept in
good order, for fear of a revolt, but will be of no avail so long as the
command rests with ignorant and unprincipled men. It is built on a spur
of the tableland, commanding on the south and south-west side the Wadi
Rummána and the highroad into the interior. Towards the north the lower
hilly ground intervenes between it and Mount Tekút.
Having returned to our quarters, we started on foot a little after mid-
day, on an excursion to Mount Tekút, which, from its elevation and its
shape, appeared to us well worth a visit. Descending the slope by the
“trík tobbi,” a road made by the Turks, we reached the eastern foot of
the mountain, after an hour and a half’s expeditious march through the
village Gwásem, and olive-groves, and over a number of subterranean
dwellings. My companion went round to the south side in search of an
easier ascent. I chose the cliff just above us, which, though steep,
indeed, and difficult on account of scattered blocks and stones, was not
very high. Having once climbed it, I had easier work, keeping along the
crest, which, winding upwards in a semicircle, gradually led to the
highest point of the mountain, on the north side, with an absolute
elevation of about 2800 feet. On the top are the ruins of a chapel of Si
Ramadhán, which, I think, is very rarely visited. The crest, which has
fallen in on the S.E. side, encloses a perfectly circular little plain,
resembling an amphitheatre, and called Shʿabet Tekút. The mount appears
evidently to have been an active volcano in former times, yet my
companion declared the rock not to be pure basalt. The view was very
extensive, and I was able to take the angles of several conspicuous
points. After we had satisfied our curiosity, we descended along the
northern slope, which is much more gradual, being even practicable for
horses, and left the “Shʿabet” by the natural opening. Thence we
returned along the path called Um e’ Nekhél, which passes by the Roman
sepulchre described by Lyon in general terms[15], and situated in a very
conspicuous position.
[Sidenote: Thursday, February 14th.]
Accompanied by the shoush, I made an excursion in a south-westerly
direction. The villages, at least those above the ground, are generally
in a wretched condition and half deserted; still the country is in a
tolerable state of cultivation, saffron and olive-trees being the two
staple articles of industry. Passing the little subterranean village of
Shuedeya, we reached the Kasr Teghrínna, originally a Berber settlement,
as its name testifies, with a strong position on a perfectly detached
hill. At present the kasr, or the village on the hill-top, is little
more than a heap of ruins, inhabited only by a few families. At the
northern foot of the hill a small village has recently been formed,
called Menzel Teghrínna. On the west and east sides the hill is
encompassed by a valley with a fine olive-grove, beyond which the Wadi
el Arbʿa stretches westwards; and it was by this round-about way that my
guide had intended to take me from Wadi el Ugla to Kasr Ghurián.
Protected by the walls, I was able to take a few angles; but the strong
wind which prevailed soon made me desist.
From this spot I went to the villages called Ksúr Gamúdi. These once
formed likewise a strong place, but were entirely destroyed in the last
war, since which a new village has arisen at the foot of the rocky
eminence. A few date-trees grow at the N. foot of the hill, while it is
well known, that the palm is rare in the Ghurián. As I was taking angles
from the top of the hill, the inhabitants of the village joined me, and
manifested a friendly disposition, furnishing me readily with any
information, but giving full vent to their hatred of the Turks. As the
most remarkable ruins of the time of the Jahalíyeh—or the pagans, as the
occupants of the country before the time of Mohammed are called,—they
mentioned to me, besides Ghirze, a tower or sepulchre called Metuḯje,
about two days’ journey S.E.; Beluwár, another tower-like monument at
less distance; and in a S.W. direction ʿAmúd, a round edifice which has
not yet been visited by any European.
The valley at the foot of the Ksúr Gamúdi is watered by several abundant
springs, which once supplied nourishment for a great variety of
vegetables; but the kitchen-gardens and orchards are at present
neglected, and corn alone is now cultivated as the most necessary want.
The uppermost of these springs, which are stated to be six in number, is
called Sma Rhʿain—not an Arabic name. Beyond, towards the south, is
Jehésha, further eastward Usáden, mentioned by Lyon, with a chapel, Geba
with a chapel, and, going round towards the north, Shetán, and further
on Mésufín. The country beyond Kuléba, a village forming the southern
border of the Ghurián, is called Ghadáma, a name evidently connected
with that of Ghadámes, though we know the latter to be at least of two
thousand years’ standing.
Continuing our march through the valley N.E., and passing the village
Bu-Mát and the ruined old places called Hanshír Metelíli and Hanshír
Jamúm[16], we reached the ruins of another old place called Hanshír
Settára, in the centre of the olive-grove. The houses, which in general
are built of small irregular stones, present a remarkable contrast to a
pair of immense slabs, above ten feet long and regularly hewn, standing
upright, which I at first supposed to be remnants of a large building;
but having since had a better opportunity of studying this subject, I
concluded that they were erected, like the cromlechs, for some religious
purpose. On the road back to our encampment, the inhabitants of Gamúdi,
who were unwilling to part company with me, gave vent to their hatred
against the Turks in a singular way. While passing a number of saffron-
plantations, which I said proved the productiveness of their country,
they maintained that the present production of saffron is as nothing
compared to what it was before the country came into the impious hands
of the Osmanlis. In former times, they said, several stems usually shot
forth from the same root, whereas now scarcely a single sample can be
found with more than one stalk,—a natural consequence of the
contamination or pollution (nejes) of the Turks, whose predominance had
caused even the laws of nature to deteriorate. In order to prove the
truth of this, they went about the fields and succeeded in finding only
a single specimen with several stems issuing from the same root.
Passing the subterranean villages of Suayeh and Ushen, and further on
that called Housh el Yehúd, which, as its name indicates, is entirely
inhabited by Jews, we reached our encampment in the housh of Ibrahim.
The subterranean dwellings which have been described by Captain
Lyon[17], seem to me to have originated principally with the Jews, who,
from time immemorial had become intimately connected with the Berbers,
many of the Berber tribes having adopted the Jewish creed; and just in
the same way as they are found mingling with the Berbers in these
regions—for the original inhabitants of the Ghurián belong entirely to
the Berber race—on friendly terms, so are they found also in the
recesses of the Atlas in Morocco.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
KASR GHURIÁN.
Feby. 13th. 1850.]
I then went to see the market, which is held every Thursday on the open
ground at the east side of the castle, close to the northern edge of the
ridge. Though much better supplied than that near Kasr Jebel, it was yet
extremely poor; only a single camel was offered for sale. This results
from the mistrust of the inhabitants, who, in bringing their produce to
the great market at Tripoli, are less exposed to vexations than here.
When taking leave of the Kaimakám, we found the whole castle beset by
litigants. I saw in the company of the governor the chief of the Haj
caravan, the Sheikh el Rakeb, of whose grand entrance into the town I
had been witness. The aghá, wanting to show us their little paradise,
accompanied us into the Wadi Rummána, which, in a direction from S.E. to
N.W., winds along the southern foot of the ridge on which the castle is
situated. Though it looks rather wild and neglected, it is a charming
retreat for the leisure hours of a governor of a place like this. It is
irrigated by a very powerful spring issuing from the limestone rock in a
channel widened by art, and then dividing into several little rills,
which are directed over the terraces of the slope. These, of course,
have been raised by art, and are laid out in orchards, which, besides
the pomegranates which have given their name to the valley, produce
sferéj (sfarájel)—the Malum Cydonium—of an excellent quality, figs,
grapes, and almonds. A path, practicable even for horses, leads down
from the castle to the spring. Before I left this charming spot, I made
a sketch of the valley, with the castle on the cliffs, which is
represented in the accompanying plate.
[Footnote 10: I can scarcely believe this to be correct; for all the
water descending from the Jebel Yefren evidently joins the little wadi
which runs on the east side of Zwára (Zwára el Gharbíye). I am sure that
he spoke of the torrents descending from the Ghurián, which, without
doubt, join the Wadi Haera, and, if very exuberant, will reach the sea
at Zenzúr.]
[Footnote 11: Mr. Overweg, who made a hypsometrical observation by
boiling water, found the elevation of this spot just the same as that of
Mount Tekút, viz. 2800 feet.]
[Footnote 12: In El Bekri’s time (11th century) all these Roman
monuments hereabout were still the objects of adoration. “De nos jours
encore, toutes les tribus berbères qui habitent aux environs offrent à
cette idole des sacrifices, lui adressent des prières pour obtenir la
guérison de leurs maladies, et lui attribuent l’accroissement de leurs
richesses.”—_Notices et Extraits_, vol. xii. p. 458.]
[Footnote 13: These villages are as follows:—Bú-Jáfet, Amsír, Welád Bu-
Síri, El Abaiyát, Welád Músa, Welád Naʿam, Welád Amrán, Ghurfa, Welád
Si-Ammer, El Khodhúr, Nsú, Takbán, Welád Sʿaid, Gujíla (consisting of
four separate villages), Jendúba, Welád Bú-Músi, Msaida, El Fratsa,
Shehésh, Negúr, and El Makhrúg.]
[Footnote 14: Compare what Captain Lyon narrates with regard to the
valley of Beniulíd, p. 61. of his Narrative.]
[Footnote 15: Lyon’s Narrative, p. 30.]
[Footnote 16: I will only mention, that the name “Hanshír” is evidently
the same word with the “Hazeroth” of the Hebrew wanderers.]
[Footnote 17: The name of this part of the mountains has, I think, been
erroneously brought into connexion with these caves. For, from the word
ghár, غَارٌ, the regular and only plural form besides اغوار is غِيرَان.
E’ Sheikh e’ Tijāni certainly (Journal Asiatique, série v. tom. i. p.
110.) calls it expressly by this name, غيران. But we see from Ebn
Khaldún (t. i. p. 275. transl.) that Ghurián was the name of a tribe.]
CHAP. III.
FERTILE MOUNTAIN REGION RICH IN ANCIENT REMAINS.
It was past three in the afternoon of Thursday, February 14th, when we
started from the dwelling of our host, in order to pursue our route in a
south-easterly direction. We were agreeably surprised to see fine
vineyards at the village called Jelíli; but the cultivation of olive-
trees seemed almost to cease here, while the country became quite open,
and afforded an unbounded prospect towards the distant southern range,
with its peaks, depressions, and steep slopes. But the fine olive-grove
of Sgáif proved that we had not yet reached the limit of this useful
tree. We were just about to descend the slope into the broad valley
called Wadi Rán, when, seeing darkness approaching, and frightened by
the black clouds rising from the valley, together with a very chilly
stream of air, we began to look seriously about for some secure shelter
for the night. To our right we had a pleasant little hollow with olive-
trees; but that would not suffice in such weather as was apparently
approaching, and we therefore descended a little along the cliffs on our
left, where our shoush knew that there were caverns called Merwán.
Scarcely had we pitched our tent on the little terrace in front of
these, when the rain began to pour down, and, accompanied with snow,
continued the whole night.
When we arose next morning, the whole country was covered with snow
about an inch deep, and its natural features were no longer
recognisable. Placed on the very brink of a bank partly consisting of
rocky ground, with many holes, partly of marly soil and accordingly very
slippery, we could not think of starting. At half-past six, the
thermometer stood at 34° Fahr. Fortunately our tent, which had been
fitted by Mr. Warrington for every kind of weather, kept the wet out.
The caverns were very irregular excavations, used by the shepherds as
temporary retreats, and full of fleas. The snow did not melt till late
in the afternoon, and the rain fell without intermission the whole
night.
[Sidenote: February 16th.]
In the morning the bad weather still continued, but the cold was not
quite so severe. Tired as we were of our involuntary delay in such a
place, we decided upon starting; but it was difficult to get our half-
frozen people to go to work. At length we set out, accompanied by an old
man whom we hired as guide, on the deep descent into Wadi Rán. The soil
was often so slippery that the camels could scarcely keep their feet;
and we were heartily glad when, after an hour and a quarter’s descent,
we at length reached stony ground, though still on the slope. Here the
valley spread out before us to the right and left, with the village
Usíne, inhabited by the Merabetín Selahát, situated on the top of a
hill, and distinguished for the quality of its dates, which are of a
peculiar kind, short and thick with a very broad stone,—while at the
foot of the western heights another village was seen, and on the top of
them the castle Bústam. Here the great valley is joined by a smaller
ravine, called Wadi Nkhal, with a small village of the same name. We
crossed two paths leading to Beni Ulíd, passing by Wadi Rán, which went
parallel to our course on the right, and where there are two springs and
a date-grove, while to the left, we obtained a view of Sedi-ūris,
situated on a cone overtowering the northern end of Wadi Kominshát. We
then approached closely the steep glen of Wadi Rán, and, after some
turnings, crossed the small rivulet which flows through it, and, a
little further on, recrossed it. Then, traversing the valley called Wadi
Marníyeh, we entered a fine fertile plain surrounded on all sides by
heights, among which the Kelúba Naʿame was conspicuous on our right.
But the camels found the marly soil, fully saturated as it was with
rain, very difficult, especially after we had entered the “Shʿabet
sóda.” For this reason, also, we could not think of following the direct
path, which leads over the hills. At the western end of the shʿabet are
the villages Deb Beni ʿAbas and Suadíyeh, with olive-groves. All the
waters of the district are carried into Wadi Rán, which joins the Wadi
Haera.
The country begins to exhibit decidedly a volcanic character, and from
all the heights rise bare basaltic cones, while the lower part is
covered with halfa. This character of the country seems to have been
well understood by the Arabs, when they gave to these basins, surrounded
by basaltic mounts, the name “Shʿabet,” which we have already seen given
to the crater of the Tekút. Here, at a short distance on our left, we
passed “another Shʿabet,” distinguished as “el Akhera.”
At length we found an opening through the hilly chain on our right,
behind an indented projection of the ridge called “Sennet el Osis,” and
then suddenly changed our course from N.E. to S.E. As soon as we had
made the circuit of this mount, we obtained a view of the highest points
of the Tarhōna, and directed our course by one of them, Mount Bíbel,
which is said to be sometimes visible from Tripoli. Tales of deadly
strife are attached to some localities hereabouts; and, according to our
guide, the torrent which we crossed beyond Wadi Ruéra poured down, some
years ago, a bloody stream. But at present the scene wants life, the
Kasr Kuséba, situated on the apex of a cone, being almost the only
dwelling-place which we had seen for five hours. Life has fled from
these fertile and pleasant regions; and the monotonous character which
they at present exhibit necessarily impresses itself on the narrative of
the traveller.
At length, after having entered the gorges of the mountains, we reached
the encampment of the Merabetín Bu-ʿAáysha, and pitched our tent at a
short distance from it. These people have considerable herds of camels
and sheep; as for cattle, there are at present very few in the whole
regency of Tripoli, except in the neighbourhood of Ben-gházi. Their
chief, ʿAbdallah, who lives in Tripoli, is much respected. The valleys
and plains hereabouts, when well saturated with rain, produce a great
quantity of corn, but they are almost entirely destitute of trees.
Having been thoroughly drenched to-day by heavy showers, we were in a
very uncomfortable condition at its close.
[Sidenote: Sunday, February 17th.]
About an hour before sunrise, when the thermometer stood at 41°, I set
out to ascend an eminence north from our tent, which afforded me an
excellent site whence to take the bearings of several prominent cones.
After my return to the tent, we started together in advance of the
camels, that we might have time to ascend the broad cone of Jebel Msíd,
which had arrested our attention. We soon passed a well, or rather
fountain, called Bir el ʿAr, which gives its name to some ancient
monument (“sanem,” or idol, as it is called by the Arabs) at a little
distance, and which the guide described as a kasr tawíl Beni Jehel, “a
high fortress of the Romans.” The country was varied and pleasant, and
enlivened, moreover, by flocks; but we saw no traces of agriculture till
we reached the well called Hasi el abiár, beyond which we entered upon a
volcanic formation. As we ascended along a small ravine, and entered
another irregular mountain-plain of confined dimensions, we found the
basalt in many places protruding from the surface. The more desolate
character of the country was interrupted in a pleasant way by the Wadi
Nekhél, which has received its name from the number of palm-trees which
grow here in a very dwarfish state, though watered by a copious spring.
Following the windings of another small valley, we reached a plain at
the foot of Mount Msíd, while on the right a large ravine led down from
the heights. Here we commenced our ascent of the cone; and on the slope
of the mountain we met with large pillars similar to those which I had
seen in the ruins of Hanshír Settára. The pillars succeeded each other
at regular distances up the slope, apparently marking the track to be
followed by those ascending for religious purposes. The ascent was very
gradual for the first twelve minutes; and twelve minutes more brought us
to its summit, which was crowned with a castle of good Arabic masonry of
about the thirteenth century. Its ruined walls gave us a little
protection against the very strong blasts of wind; but we found it
rather difficult to take accurate angles, which was the more to be
regretted as a great many peaks were visible from this beautifully-
shaped and conspicuous mount.
It was a little past noon when we pursued our journey from the western
foot of this once holy mount[18], and, turning its southern side,
resumed our north-easterly direction. We then soon came to the “Wadi
hammám,” which forms here a wider basin for the brook running along it
towards Mejenín, so as to produce a pleasant and fresh green spot.
Having watered our animals, we entered a plain from which detached
basaltic hillocks started up; and some ruins of regularly-hewn stones,
scattered about, bore testimony that the Romans had deemed the place
worthy of fixed settlements. A small limestone hill contrasts handsomely
with these black basaltic masses, among which the Leblú, the highest
summit of a larger group to our right, is particularly remarkable. At
the foot of the Jebel Jemmʿa was an encampment of the Welád ʿAli; but I
cannot say in what degree they are connected with the family which has
given its name to the valley in the Yefren. From this side in
particular, the Jebel Msíd presents the form of a beautiful dome, the
most regular I remember to have ever seen. It seems to rise with a proud
air over its humbler neighbours. Having then passed a continuous ridge
of cones stretching S.S.E., and cleared the basaltic region, we entered
a wide plain covered with halfa, and, cutting right across it, we
reached the fertile low plain Elkeb, where another encampment of the
Welád ʿAli excited the desire of our people to try their hospitality for
our night’s quarters; but some distance to the left two enormous pillars
were to be seen standing upright, and thither we repaired. Here I had an
opportunity of accurately investigating a very peculiar kind of ancient
remains, giving a clue, I hope, to the character of the religion of the
early inhabitants of these regions, though it seems impossible to give a
satisfactory explanation respecting all the details of their structure.
[Illustration]
It consists in a pair of quadrangular pillars erected on a common basis,
which is fixed into the ground, and measures 3 ft. 1⁵⁄₁₂′ in length, and
2 ft. 10′ in width. The two pillars which measure 2 feet on each side,
being 1 ft. 7²⁄₁₀′ asunder, are 10 feet high. The western pillar has
three quadrangular holes on the inside, while the corresponding holes in
the eastern pillar go quite through; the lowest hole is 1 ft. 8′ above
the ground, and the second 1 ft. ½′ higher up, and so the third above
the second. The holes are 6 in. square.
Over these pillars, which at present lean to one side, is laid another
enormous stone about 6 feet 6½ inches long, and of the same width as the
pillars, so that the whole structure bears a surprising resemblance to
the most conspicuous part of the celebrated Celtic ruins at
Stonehenge[19] and other ruins in Malabar[20], about the religious
purpose of which not the least doubt remains at present. But besides
these, there are other very curious stones of different workmanship, and
destined evidently for different purposes; some of them are large, flat,
and quadrangular, very peculiarly worked, and adapted, probably, to
sacrifices. One of them is three feet in length and breadth, but with a
projection on one side, as is represented in the woodcut, and 1 ft. 2′
high. On the surface of this stone, and parallel to its sides, is carved
a channel 4⁸⁄₁₀ inches broad, forming a quadrangle; and from this a
small channel branches along the projecting part. Several stones of
similar workmanship lie about. There is also the remnant of an enormous
stone 3 feet 7½ inches at the back and across, but rounded off at the
corners, looking like a solid throne, excepting that on the upper side
there is an excavation measuring 1 ft. 3²⁄₁₀ in. at the back, 9⁶⁄₁₀
inches on the front, and 1 ft. 1²⁄₁₀ in. across, and about 10 inches
deep, with a small opening. This stone looks very peculiar, and probably
formed an altar.
These ruins are certainly very remarkable. Any one who looks at them
without prejudice or preconceived opinion, will be impressed with the
belief that they belonged to a place of worship; though how this
peculiar structure could be adapted to religious purposes, I will not
undertake to decide. It is well known, that the most ancient idols were
mere pillars or stones, not only of a round or conical shape, as symbols
of the procreative power of nature, but even of a square form. It is
also well known, from the example of the columns in On or Heliopolis, of
the two celebrated columns, Yakín and Boʿaz, in front of the temple in
Jerusalem, and from that of the two pillars of the Phœnician Hercules in
Gades, that the power of the Deity was often represented by a pair. A
pair of massive columns or pillars, covered with a similarly massive
impost, may well serve to represent symbolically the firmness and
eternity of the cosmical order, while the name of the chief deity of the
pagan Berbers, ʿAmún, may possibly have the original meaning of “the
Founder, Supporter.” But I will not enter here into such conjectures; I
will only say that my distinct impression on the spot was, that the
structure was a rude kind of sun-dial, combining the vertical with the
horizontal principle. That it could not be intended as a common doorway,
even if it were connected with another building, is evident from the
narrowness of the passage; but it may have had the purpose of serving as
a sort of penitential or purgatory passage in consecrating and preparing
the worshippers[21], previous to their offering sacrifices, by obliging
them to squeeze themselves through this narrow passage, the
inconvenience of which was increased by the awful character attributed
to this cromlech. Even in Christian and Mohammedan countries religious
ordeals of a similar kind are not unknown; and a very analogous custom
in the celebrated mosque of Kairowán may well have its origin in the
older pagan practice of the aborigines. However this may be, the
religious character of the whole structure can scarcely be doubtful,
from the nature of the flat stone, the channel in which was certainly
intended to carry off the blood of the victim.[22]
It must strike the observer, in regarding these ruins, that while they
are so rude in principle, their style of execution evidently bears
traces of art; and I think it not improbable that the art may be
ascribed to Roman influence. We shall further on see another specimen of
these curious pillars combined with the ground-plan of an almost regular
Roman temple. But from whatever quarter this artistical influence may
have proceeded, there cannot be the least doubt that the character of
the structure is, on the whole, not Roman, but indicates quite another
race; and if we take into regard what I have just said about the
influence of art visible in this structure, and that such influence
could scarcely proceed from any other quarter than that of the
Carthaginians or the Romans, we must attribute these remains to the
Berber race, who, during the historical period, were the exclusive
possessors of these inland regions. Analogous structures have been
found, however, not only in England and Ireland on the one side, and in
several parts of India, principally in the Nilgherries, on the other,
but also in Circassia, Southern Russia, on the South Arabian coast, and
in the Somali country. This analogy might certainly be explained by a
similarity of principle in the simple religious rites of rude people;
but there may be also in these curious remains a confirmation of the
theories of Sir Henry Rawlinson respecting the wide extension of the
Scythians. But while, with regard to other tribes, from the Dravidian
group in Southern India to the Celtic in Ireland, such a connexion of
origin seems to be confirmed by analogy of language, there exist but
very few points of analogy between the Berber and the Central Asiatic
languages, except by means of the Coptic. In every respect, however, it
may be better to call such remains by the general name of Scythian than
by that of Druidical, which certainly can be justified only with regard
to the north-west of Europe.
These remarkable ruins are at a short distance from the foot of a
fortified hill, which is crowned with ancient fortifications of hewn
stone, to which are added later works of small stones. Other ruins of
cut-stone buildings lie about; and on an eminence at a little distance
eastward is a small castle belonging to the earlier times of the Arabs,
while on the highest top of the hilly chain behind the Arab encampment,
and which is called Gábes, are likewise ruins. The ruins of a whole
village, partly built of regularly-cut stone, and even exhibiting the
ornament of a column, were found the next morning near our encampment,
which our people had placed on the slope of the hills bordering the
plain towards the north-east.
All these ruins are evident proofs that the fertile plain Elkeb, and the
adjoining one, called Madher, were once well cultivated and thickly
inhabited. Their situation is very favourable, as the direct road from
Tripoli to Beni Ulíd and Sokna, by way of the valley Melgha, passes
close by. We had here descended to an average height of about one
thousand feet above the level of the sea.
[Sidenote: February 18th.]
During the night there was heavy rain, which lasted till morning, and
delayed our starting till rather late. After about a mile and a half’s
march, we ascended a little from the plain to the undulating pastures of
the Dháhar Tarhóna, which soon became enlivened by the tents and herds
of the Megaigera, and where I was glad to see at length a few cows. The
ground, though scantily covered with herbage, was dotted with lilies,
which my companion called balúdt, though this name is generally
understood to signify the ash-tree. Our guide from Meruán informed me
here that the water of this district takes its course not towards the
north, as might be expected, but towards the south-east, running from
hence to Temásla, on this side of Beni Ulíd, thence into the Wadi
Merdúm, and thence into Wadi Sofejín, which, as is well known, descends
towards Tawárgha. A little further on we left, on a small eminence to
the left, another hanshír surrounded by cultivated ground. It had been
an inconsiderable place, built chiefly of small stones; but even here
two enormous pillars or slabs were to be seen standing in the midst of
the rubbish. There were two holes in each of these pillars, going quite
through, and widening on one side.
At half-past nine o’clock, when passing the Hanshír Bu-Trehébe, at a
distance of more than two miles on our left, we had a fine retrospective
view of the various peaks of the Ghurián range, while on our left a
lower range approached more and more, with two summits rising from it to
a greater elevation. About noon we passed another site, called Hanshír
Suán, where are the remains of a large castle, with an inner and outer
fortification, built of small stones, but in a very neat and regular
style. The country, chiefly owing to the murkiness of the sky, had begun
to assume a very sombre character, and was crossed by stripes of red
sand, which, however, affords the best soil for the growth of the
pumpkin; but in the afternoon it improved greatly, showing fine pasture-
ground and ample corn-fields and, among the ruins of ancient times, the
rare example of a well-proportioned and neatly-worked Ionic capital,
which I found at the border of a ravine. Further on, upon a detached low
rock, which had been hewn into rectangular walls, and surrounded with a
ditch, were seen ruins of cut stone, very similar in appearance to those
of Kasr Jahalíyeh, near Gargash. We at length found traces of living
beings, in an Arab encampment situated in a green hollow, where we
learnt that the Kaïd or governor of Tarhóna, whose residence we were in
search of, was at present encamped near the spring called ʿAin
Shershára.
The country gradually assumes a more diversified aspect, agreeably
succeeding its former monotony. A considerable mountain-range, with
manifold crags, peaks, and ravines, approaches from S.S.W., and, turning
N.E., presents an insurmountable barrier to an advance in that
direction, while the plain sweeps nicely in a concave towards its foot;
but it is quite bare and desolate, and only now and then is seen a poor
remnant of the large olive-grove, consisting, according to the statement
of our shoush, of 10,000 trees, which Bey ʿAbd Allah, in Masráta, my
host on my former journey, had ventured to plant here five years ago. My
people maintained, whether correctly or not I cannot say, that the
strong gales which prevail in this plain did not allow the young olive-
tree to thrive. I think the failure is due rather to the character of
the inhabitants, who, unaccustomed to this branch of culture, have not
paid the necessary attention to the young trees.
Having passed a small wadi, we came in sight of the encampment of the
governor, which stretched out in front of us in a well-chosen situation
at the southern foot of a small cone. A Turkish officer’s green tent,
pitched a little in advance, was surrounded by several smaller ones,
while another group of twelve Bedwín tents, in a higher position up the
slope of the mount, contained the household. The governor received us in
a very friendly but rather affected manner, which seemed peculiar to
him, and might even be thought becoming in a man who has assisted his
country’s foes in exterminating all the members of his family, formerly
one of the foremost in the country. His friends, who try to represent
him as an honest man, say that he was forced to the deed, after having
once entered into Turkish service. This man, Bel Kásem el Lohéshi
Mahmúdi, has since played a conspicuous part in the present revolution;
for he it was who led the Turkish force last year against Ghóma, his
near relative but most bitter enemy, who, having been a prisoner in
Trebizond for many years, suddenly made his escape from thence during
the Russian war, and, issuing from the Tunisian frontier, appeared in
Jébel Yéfren. El Lohéshi was routed, and taken prisoner, and, according
to the first report, slain by the successful rebel. When we visited El
Lohéshi, he had occupied his new post only for the last year, having
been before governor of the Jebel. During all the period he had been in
Tarhóna, he assured us he had not moved his encampment from this place;
which I can well understand, as it is a very pleasant spot. His
principal business, of course, consists in collecting the tithes, in
registering which he was busily employed. He knew very little of the
province under his government; and it was to other men that I had to
look for information.
Having pitched our tent near that of the governor, we proceeded to make
ourselves acquainted with the locality, and, a few paces north from our
encampment, stumbled upon the famous brook called ʿAin Shersher, or ʿAin
Shershára, which, proceeding from the junction of three springs, forms
here a cascade of about twenty-five feet over the firm calcareous rock.
Running west a short distance, it then turns north and, breaking through
the mountain-slope in a deep picturesque glen, takes the direction of
the Wadi Ramle, which, however, it only reaches during great floods.
It seems as if this pleasant spot had already been a favourite residence
in the Roman times, as is amply shown by the fine ruins of a large
building of hewn stone, which the torrent has rent asunder and scattered
on both sides. From this place, ascending the side of a very wild
ravine, we reached the height which overlooks the Bedwín encampment, and
on the morning of the following day made a more distant excursion to the
mount called Bu-tauwíl, about three miles north, which was represented
to us as affording a very distant prospect, and the name of which seemed
to promise more than ordinary elevation.
As to the view we were rather disappointed; yet we were well repaid for
our trouble from the character of the country traversed, and the
unexpectedly pleasing aspect of the terrace spread out at the western
foot of the mountain, which must have formed a favourite retirement in
the time of the Romans, so literally strewn is it with the ruins of
buildings of hewn stone. In descending it, about 300 feet below the
summit, we first came to a Roman tomb, 8 ft. 7 in. long, and 7 ft. 9 in.
broad, rising in two stories, the lower being about ten feet high from
the base to the moulding, and ornamented with pilasters at the corners.
A little further on, to the west, was another tomb, just on the brink of
the slope into the valley below; but it has been destroyed, and at
present the chief interest attaches to a monumental stone, which most
probably stood upright on its top, and fell down when the monument went
to pieces, so that it now lies in a merely casual position on the floor
of the sepulchre, which has been repeatedly rifled by greedy hands. This
stone is 7 ft. 2 in. long, and has on one side, in high relief, the
figure of a man, of natural size, clothed in a toga. The workmanship is
good, and certainly not much later than the time of Severus. Close at
hand are other ruins lying about; and further west are several groups of
buildings. Three olive-trees and a palm-tree adorned this beautiful
retired spot.
Having returned to our encampment, I and my companion resolved to
separate for a few days, Overweg wishing to examine the neighbourhood of
the ʿAin Shershára for geological purposes, while I was rather bent upon
executing the original plan of our route all round the mountain-range.
We agreed to meet again at the castle called Kasr el Jefára in the plain
near the sea-shore. We borrowed another tent from the governor for Mr.
Overweg during his stay at this place, while I procured a horseman, with
whom, together with Ibrahim, our shoush, and one of the camel-drivers, I
was ready for starting an hour before noon; for the heat of the sun was
not much to be dreaded at this season of the year. Overweg accompanied
me as far as Kasr Dóga.[23]
Winding along narrow ravines, after about one mile’s march we passed, on
an eminence to our right, another specimen of large pilasters with an
impost, and ruins of buildings of large square stones close by. After
much winding, we cleared the narrow channel ascending the hills, which
were covered with halfa; but here too there was not a single tree to be
seen, and my guide said that there were no olive-trees in the Tarhóna
except in Máta, a place situated between Mount Bu-tauwíl and Kasr
Jefára, from which the tribe Máta derives its name. I have noticed
before, as remarkable, the three olive-trees near Bu-tauwíl. It was
about one o’clock in the afternoon when we came in sight of the Roman
monument called Kasr Dóga; and its brown colour almost induced us to
conclude that it was of brick; but on approaching nearer, we found that
it was built of hewn stone. We were astonished at the grand dimensions
of the monument, as it appeared evident that it was originally a mere
sepulchre, though in after times blocked up by the Arabs, and converted
into a castle.
[Illustration]
The front of the monument faces the south with ten degrees of deviation
towards the west. The whole body of the building, rising upon a base of
three steps, measures 47 ft. 6 in. in length, and 31 ft. 4 in. in
breadth. The entrance or portal, equidistant from both corners, was 12
ft. 6 in. wide; but it has been entirely blocked up with hewn stone, so
that it is now impossible to get into the interior of the monument
without great labour, and only a glimpse can be obtained of a kind of
entrance-hall of small dimensions. Of the interior arrangement,
therefore, nothing meets the view; but on the top of the solid mass of
building, rising to a height of 28 ft. 10 in., the ground-plan of the
third story, which has been demolished to obtain materials for closing
the entrance, is distinctly visible. Here the vestibule measures 10 ft.
10 in., the wall of the interior chamber or cell being adorned with two
columns, which are no less than 3 ft. 10 in. apart: the inner room
itself measures 22 ft. 4 in. in length within the walls. The monument,
although more massive than beautiful, is a fair proof of the wealth of
this district in ancient times. Opposite to it, on a limestone hill of
considerable elevation, is another specimen of the cromlech kind in good
preservation, besides other ruins. In the hollow at the S.E. side of the
sepulchre there are six deep and spacious wells sunk in the rock.
Here my companion left me, and I continued my route alone, passing
through a well-cultivated tract, till I reached an encampment of the
Welád Bu-Séllem, where we pitched our tent. Here I met a cousin of Haj
ʿAbd el Hádi el Meráyet, who had once been master of half the Tarhóna
district, but was made prisoner by the Turks, and sent to
Constantinople. This man also reappeared on the stage last year.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, February 20th.]
We set out early in the morning, the country continuing flat as far as
the chapel of Sidi ʿAli ben Salah, which, standing on a hill, is a
conspicuous object for many miles round. At a short distance from this
chapel, I observed the ruins of a castle built of large square stones
taken from older buildings; it measures 42 feet in every direction, and
exhibits a few bad but curious sculptures, among others an ass in
relief. Around are the ruins of a small village, and flat stones of
immense size, similar in workmanship to those described above, but no
upright pillars.
Beyond the chapel of the saint the country became more hilly, and after
some time we entered a ravine joining the Wadi Gedaera, which exhibited
the remains of three broad and firmly-constructed dikes, crossing the
ravine at the distance of about 800 yards from each other. They were
built of small stones, and were evidently intended to exclude the water
from the lower part of the valley. Another eight hundred yards below the
innermost dike, the ravine widens out into a fine verdant hollow,
stretching from west to east, and provided with several wells. On a
detached hill rising in the midst of this basin, is situated the Kasr
Dawán, built partly of older materials of hewn stone, partly of small
stones, and probably of the same age as the dikes. The whole floor of
the basin is strewn with ruins; and a considerable village seems to have
extended round the castle: where the ground was free from stones, it was
covered with ranunculuses. Altogether, this spot was interesting—the
stronghold of a chieftain who appears to have had energy and foresight,
but whose deeds are left without a record.
As soon as we emerged from this ravine the whole character of the
country changed, and through a pleasant valley we entered a wider plain,
bordered in the distance by a high range of mountains, among which the
Jebel Msíd, crowned with a zawíya or convent, is distinguished by its
height and its form. It is rather remarkable, and of the highest
interest as regards the ancient history of the civilization of these
regions, that the two most conspicuous mountains bordering Tarhóna, one
on the west the other on the east side, should bear the same name, and a
name which bears evident testimony to their having been places of
worship in ancient times. Both of them have grandeur of form; but the
western one is more regularly dome-shaped.
[Illustration]
The fine pasturage which this plain affords to the cows of the Mehaedi
enabled their masters to regale us with fine fresh sourmilk, which
interrupted our march very pleasantly. On the site of an ancient
village, near the margin of a small torrent, I found the following
curious specimens of upright pilasters, together with the impost,
remarkable for their height as well as for the rough sculpture of a dog,
or some other animal, which is seen on the higher part of one of them.
About 700 yards beyond the torrent called Ksaea, we had on our right a
large building of hewn stone about 140 yards square, besides six pairs
of pilasters together with their imposts; but some of them are lying at
present on the ground. These structures could never have been intended
as doors or passages; for the space between the upright stones is so
narrow, that a man of ordinary size could hardly squeeze his way through
them. Other ruins are on the left.
Here we entered the mountain chain which forms the natural boundary
between the district of Tarhóna and that of Meselláta, and at the
present time separates scenes of nomadic life from fixed settlements.
The highest part of the chain round the Jebel Msíd remained on our left,
while the heights on the right decreased in elevation. The chain has
little breadth; and we had hardly reached its crest when the country
that presented itself to our view had quite a different appearance from
that just left behind, presenting among other objects the castle of
Meselláta, surrounded by an olive-grove. In this spot ancient sites and
modern villages with stone houses are intermixed, while thick olive-
groves enliven the whole, and constitute the wealth of the inhabitants.
Having passed a village called Fatír, lying in a ravine that runs S.W.,
we soon descried, in a hollow at the southern foot of the Kasr Sʿaade (a
small ancient fortress), the first olive-plantation and the first
orchards belonging to Meselláta. From this place onward they succeed
each other at short intervals. Having passed a small eminence, with a
fine olive-grove in the hollow at its foot, we entered the beautiful and
well-inhabited plain of Meselláta. Here a great deal of industry was
evinced by the planting of young cuttings between the venerable old
olive-trees, or ghúrs Faraón as the Arabs call them. My shoush affirmed
that the inhabitants of Meselláta are the most industrious and diligent
people in the whole regency, taking good care of their plantations, and
watering them whenever they need it. The whole country has here a
different character from that of Tarhóna, the naked calcareous rock
protruding everywhere, while in Tarhóna the plains generally consist of
clayey soil. This district is only about one thousand feet above the
sea, while the average height of the Jébel (Yéfren) and the Ghurián is
about two thousand feet. Here the olives had been collected a month ago;
in the former districts they remained still on the tree.
Cheered by the spectacle of life and industry around us, we continued
our pleasant march, and having crossed an open space of rough rocky
ground filled with cisterns, we reached the castle of Meselláta, an
edifice of little merit, built with square stones from old ruins, and
lying at the northern end of the village Kúsabát, which properly means
“the Castles.” While my people were pitching my tent behind the castle,
on the only spot which would allow of the pegs being driven into the
ground, I went to pay a visit to Khalíl Aghá, who resided in the castle;
but I found it to be so desolate and comfortless that I left it
immediately, taking with me the sheikh Mesʿaud and a shoush named
Ibrahím Tubbát, in order to view the Kalʿa or Gellʿah, a very
conspicuous object, visible even from the sea. Keeping along the western
side of the village, which consists of from 300 to 400 cottages[24]
built of stone, and occupies a gentle slope towards the south, the
highest point of which, near the mosque, is 1250 feet[25] above the
level of the sea, we reached a pleasant little hollow adorned with
gardens, which being fenced with hedges of the Indian fig-tree, rendered
the spot extremely picturesque. From hence we ascended the naked
calcareous eminence, from the top of which the fortress overlooks a
great extent of country. Going round its demolished walls, from east to
west, I was able to descry and to take the bearings of a great number of
villages belonging to the district of Meselláta, some of them peeping
out of olive-groves, others distinguishable only by the smoke rising up
from them.
The fortress itself is evidently a work not of Mohammedans, but of
Europeans, and was most probably constructed by the Spaniards in the
first half of the 16th century. It is built in the form of a triangle,
one side of which, running N.W. and S.E., measures about 108 yards;
another, running E.N.E. and W.S.W., measures 78½ yards, and the third,
S. 5 W. and N. 5 E., 106½ yards. At the corner between the first and the
second wall, is a polygonal bastion; between the second and third a
round bastion, and a small one also between the third and the first
wall. Descending from the fortress, I went with Mesʿaud through the
village, the dwellings of which are built in a much better style than is
usual in the regency. It is also stated that, in comparison with the
rest of the country, its inhabitants enjoy some degree of wealth, and
that the market is well supplied.
[Sidenote: Thursday, February 21st.]
I rose at an early hour, in order to continue my route, and entered a
very pleasant country, rendered more agreeable in appearance by the
fineness of the morning. Winding along through hilly slopes covered with
luxuriant corn-fields and wide-spreading olive-trees, we reached at
half-past eight o’clock an interesting group of ruins consisting of
immense blocks, and amongst them one like the flat quadrangular stones
represented above, but having on its surface, besides the little
channel, a large hole; also a block of extraordinary dimensions,
representing a double altar of the curious massive sort described above.
Close to these remarkable ruins, in a fine corn-field, is a small
castle, situated upon a natural base of rock, in which subterranean
vaults have been excavated in a very regular way. Towards the south, at
the distance of about half an hour’s march, the large castle of Amámre
rises into view. We then reached the fine plantation of Rumíyeh, while
on a hill to the left lie other scattered ruins.
We met a good many people going to the Thursday market at Kúsabát.
Further on, near another little grove, we found a small encampment of
the Jehawát, a tribe which claims the possession of this whole district.
We then passed a castle irregularly built of large square stones about
twelve yards square. Having crossed a hollow, we obtained a good view
over the country, in which the “Merkeb Sʿaid n ʿAli (the most advanced
spur of this chain towards the coast) formed a distinguished point,
while we had already reached the last low breaks of the mountain-country
towards the east. Meanwhile the greater dimensions of the ruins remind
the traveller that he is approaching the famous remains of Leptis. I
found here, a little to the right of our path, near a Bedwin encampment,
the ruins of a temple of large proportions, called Sanem ben Hamedán,
and of rather curious arrangement, the front, which faces the north and
recedes several feet from the side-walls, being formed by double ranges
of enormous stones standing upright—they can scarcely be called
pilasters,—while the inner part is ornamented with columns of the Ionic
order. The whole building is about 40 paces long, and 36 broad; but the
architectural merit of its details is not sufficient to repay the
trouble of exact measurements. About a thousand yards further on, to the
east, are the ruins of another still larger monument, measuring about 77
paces in every direction, and called by the Arabs Kasr Kérker. It has
several compartments in the interior—three chambers lying opposite to
the entrance, and two other larger ones on the east side. Nearly in the
middle of the whole building, there is a large square stone like those
mentioned above, but having on one of its narrow sides a curious
sculpture in relief.
[Illustration]
The camels having been allowed to go on, I hastened after them with my
shoush as fast as my donkey could trot, and passed several sites of
ancient villages or castles, and numerous fine hollows with luxuriant
olive-trees. I scarcely ever remember to have seen such beautiful trees.
The country continues undulating, with fertile hollows or depressions.
We reached the camels at Wadi Lebda, which I found perfectly dry.
Close to our left we had cultivated ground and ruins. Near the sea-
shore, the spacious and pleasant site of Leptis spread out on the
meadow-land, while a little further on rose a small ridge, on the top of
which is situated the village Khurbet Hammám. After we had passed a
pleasant little hollow, the plain became for a while overgrown with
thick clusters of bushes; but on reaching the plantation of Swail, an
almost uninterrupted line of villages stretched along the sahel (sea-
shore) amid corn-fields and groves of olive and date-trees. According to
my shoush, a great deal of corn is cultivated also in the valleys behind
this plain; and numerous well-trodden paths were seen leading from the
sahel into the hilly country on its southern side. After plentiful
rains, this part of the plain is inundated by the waters of the Wadi
Bondári, which is called after the general name of the low range
bordering the plain. Having passed several little villages of the sahel,
and paid my due tribute of veneration to “el Dekhaele” (the oldest and
tallest palm-tree in the whole district), a little before five o’clock
in the afternoon I reached the village called Zawíya Ferjáni, where we
pitched our tent in the stubble-field near a date-grove, and rested
from our pleasant day’s march, experiencing hospitable treatment from
our hosts.[26]
The country hereabouts is regarded as tolerably healthy, but ʿAbd e’
Saʿade, a village a little further eastward, has suffered greatly from
malignant fevers, which are attributed to the unwholesomeness of the
waters of the Wadi Kʿaám, as I noticed on my former journey[27]; hence
the population has become rather thin, and industry has declined. At
some distance from the wadi, cultivation ceases entirely, and, instead
of groves and gardens, a wide and wild field of disorder and
destruction meets the eye. This rivulet, which is identical with the
Cinyps, was in great vogue with the ancients, who knew how to control
and regulate its occasional impetuosity. Immense walls, which they
constructed as barriers against destructive inundations, remain to
testify to their activity and energy. Of these one group, forming a
whole system of dikes, some transverse, some built in the form of a
semicircle, is seen near the spot, where a beautiful subterranean
aqueduct which supplied Leptis issues from the wadi; another enormous
wall, 650 yards long, and from 4 to 4½ yards thick, stands about three
quarters of a mile higher up the valley. But with the details of all
these works, though to me they appeared so interesting that I measured
them with tolerable exactness, I will not detain the reader, but shall
hasten to carry him back to Tripoli.
Having started in the afternoon from the mouth of the wadi, I re-entered
Zawíya ʿAbd el Ferjáni from the rear, but finding that my people had
gone on to Leptis, I followed them, after a little delay, by the way of
Wadi Súk, where every Thursday a market is held (“Súk el khamís,” a name
applied by Captain, now Rear-Admiral, Smyth to the neighbouring
village), and then over the open meadow-plain, having the blue sea on my
right, and came up with my people just as they were about to pitch my
tent at the foot of an enormous staircase leading to some undefined
monument in the eastern part of the ancient city of Leptis.
[Sidenote: February 23rd.]
During the forenoon I was busily employed in a second investigation of
some of the ruins of Leptis, which have been so well described and
illustrated by Admiral Smyth. Near the small creek called Mirsá Legátah,
and a little east of the chapel of the Merábet ben Shehá, a small castle
has been lately built by the Turks, about a hundred paces square. It has
quite a handsome look with its pinnacles and small bastions.
Leaving the site of this celebrated city, we proceeded, early in the
afternoon, through a diversified hilly country, till we reached the high
hill or mount of Mérkeb[28] Sʿaid-n-ʿAli, which is visible from a great
distance. This I ascended in order to correct some of my positions,
particularly that of el Gellʿah in Meselláta, but found the wind too
violent. Passing an undulating country, over-grown with the freshest
green, and affording ample pastures to the herds of numerous Arab
encampments, I pitched my tent near a small dowar of the Beni Jéhem[29],
who treated us hospitably with sour milk and bazín.
[Sidenote: February 24th.]
The country continued varied, hill and dale succeeding each other; but
beyond Kasr Aláhum (an irregular building of a late age), it became more
rough and difficult, especially near the steep descent called Negási.
Soon after this we descended into the plain, not far from the seashore,
where we crossed several flat valleys. From the Wadi Bú Jefára[30],
where a small caravan going from Zlíten to the town overtook us, a
monotonous plain, called Gwaea mtʿa Gummáta, extends to the very foot of
the slope of Meselláta. Having traversed the desolate zone called el
Míta mtʿa Terúggurt, whence may be descried the “úglah” near the shore,
the residence of my old friend the sheikh Khalífa bú-Ruffa, we reached
the broad and rock-bound valley Terúggurt itself, probably the most
perfect wadi which this part of the coast exhibits. To my great
satisfaction, I met Overweg at the Kasr Jefára.
K. Jefára is also called Karabúli, from the name of a Mamlúk who, in the
time of Yusuf Basha, built here a sort of convent or chapel. It is
rather a “funduk,” or caravanserai, than a “kasr,” or castle, and the
gates are always left open; but its situation is important, and it is
the residence of a judge or kaíd. A battle between Ghóma and the Turks
was fought in 1855 at no great distance from it. The country around is a
monotonous plain, enlivened only by three small clusters of palm-trees
towards the north. The following morning we proceeded, and encamped on
the eastern side of Wadi Raml. On Tuesday we returned to Tripoli well
satisfied with our little excursion, and convinced that the Regency of
Tripoli is not by any means so poor and miserable as it is generally
believed to be.
[Footnote 18: The ancient character of this mountain is most probably
indicated by its present name “Msíd.”]
[Footnote 19: See especially the Plate No. 7. in Higgins’s “Celtic
Druids.”]
[Footnote 20: See Plate No. 39. in Higgins’s work.]
[Footnote 21: Compare what Higgins says, p. lx., in describing the
Constantine tolmen in Cornwall.]
[Footnote 22: From this plain example it might seem that the flat stone
in Stonehenge was intended for a similar purpose.]
[Footnote 23: The principal tribes living in the district Tarhóna are
the Hhamadát, the Drahíb, Welád Bu-Síd, Welád Bu-Mʿarah, Marghána, Welád
ʿAli, W. Yusuf, Megaigerah, Firján, W. Meháda, W. Bú-Sellem, Naʿaje,
Máta, Khwárish, Gerákta, Bu-Saba, Shefátra, Welád Hámed, Erhaimíyeh.]
[Footnote 24: The quarter of the village nearest to the castle is
principally inhabited by Jews.]
[Footnote 25: The elevation of this place was determined by Lieutenant
(now Rear-Admiral) Smyth, in 1819.]
[Footnote 26: The inhabitants of the Sahel in general, and those of
Zlíten and Masráta in particular, are more attached to the Turks than
almost any other tribe of the regency; they would rather be subjected to
a foreign power, than suffer oppression from their own brethren the
Gedádefa and other tribes in the valleys of the interior. Hence, in the
revolution in 1855, they remained faithful to the Turks; and a good many
of them were killed in the first battle between the Turks and the rebel
chief Ghóma.]
[Footnote 27: Wanderings along the Coasts of the Mediterranean, vol. i.
p. 317.]
[Footnote 28: Mérkeb means here “the high seat.”]
[Footnote 29: This tribe does not seem habitually to frequent this
district, the indigenous name of which is Khoms. The principal tribes of
this stock, named to me, were as follows: viz. the Sambára, the Shuwaig,
Ziadát, Legáta, Shekhátra, Drúga, Argúb Jehawát, and Swaid.]
[Footnote 30: Smyth’s Benzbárah, which he seems to have confounded in
some degree with Wadi Terúggurt.]
[Illustration: DR. BARTH’S TRAVELS IN NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA Sheet No.
3. MAP OF THE ROUTE from TRIPOLI TO MÚRZUK 24. March to 6. May 1850.
Constructed and drawn by A. Petermann.
Engraved by Edwd. Weller.
_London, Longman & Co._]
CHAP. IV.
DEPARTURE FOR THE INTERIOR. — ARRIVAL AT MIZDA. — REMAINS OF A CHRISTIAN
CHURCH.
Meanwhile the instruments provided by Government had arrived, and proved
in general well adapted for their purposes.[31] But the tents and arms
had not yet reached us; and I thought it better to provide a strong,
spacious, and low tent, which, even after the government tents arrived,
did not prove superfluous, although perhaps rather too heavy. All tents
intended for travellers in hot climates should be well lined, and not
high. Those which we received were quite unfit for the country whither
we were going, and while they were so light that they could hardly
withstand a strong blast of wind, they scarcely excluded the sun,
particularly after a little wear and tear. All the tents ought also to
have top-ropes, which can alone secure them in a tornado such as are
common in those climates. Mr. Richardson was soon obliged to provide
himself with another tent, so that in the course of our journey we had
altogether five tents, but generally pitched only two, or, where we
encamped for a greater length of time, four.
Mr. Overweg and I sustained a heavy loss in the secession of our black
servant Ibrahím, who might have proved of great service to us in the
interior, as he spoke the Bórnu and Bagrímma languages, and had himself
wandered about a good deal in those little-known districts between
Mándara and Bagírmi. But he declared that he could not remain in our
service along with our servant Mohammed ben Belál, the son of a
liberated Góber slave, who was a very clever but unscrupulous and
haughty fellow, and bore the character of a libertine. But another cause
of detention was the protest of his wives, who would not allow him to go
unless he divorced them. We tried every means of settling the matter,
but without success; so that we had only two servants, one of whom,
Mohammed e’ Zintáni, the lad I have mentioned before, would certainly
not go further than Fezzán.
At length all was ready for our outset, except the boat, which caused
Mr. Richardson a great deal of trouble, as it had been divided in Malta
into two pieces instead of four. I proposed that we should pitch our
tents for some days at ʿAin Zára, in order that we might be duly
seasoned for our long journey. I would advise every traveller, who would
calculate upon all the means of ensuring success, to adopt a similar
course. A few days’ stay in his tent will familiarize him with the
little store which is henceforward to form his principal, if not his
only resource, and will enable him to bear the heat of the sun with
ease.
It was late in the afternoon of the 24th of March, 1850, when Overweg
and I, seated in solemn state upon our camels, left the town with our
train, preceded by the consul, Mr. Crowe, in his carriage, by Mr. Reade,
and by Mr. Dickson and his family, of whom we took a hearty leave under
the olive-trees near Kasr el Haeni. We then continued our route, and in
fine moonlight pitched our tent on the border of ʿAin Zára.
This locality takes its name from a broad swampy hollow or depression to
the south, thickly overgrown with reeds and rushes. At present no one
lives in it; the wells are filled up with earth, and the date-trees,
cared for by nobody, are partly overwhelmed by the sand which has
accumulated in large mounds. Still it is an attractive spot, having just
a little of cultivation and a little of sandy waste. A few olive-trees
spread their fresh cool shade over a green meadow, forming a very
pleasant resting-place. It was at this very spot that, in August 1855,
on my joyful return, I again met Mr. Reade the vice-consul, and passed a
night there.
Here we remained encamped till Friday the 29th. In the afternoon of the
27th, Mr. Frederic Warrington, who wished to escort us for a few days,
came out, accompanied by the American consul Mr. Gaines, and brought us
the satisfactory news, that on the following Friday Mr. Richardson would
move from the town, and that we should meet him at Mejenín. I and my
countryman required eight camels for our luggage, besides the two which
we rode ourselves, and which were our own. I should have preferred
having a donkey for myself, as it would have enabled me to go with ease
wherever I liked; but in Tripoli there are no donkeys strong enough for
such a journey, and a horse, including the carriage of barley and water
for him, was too expensive for the means then placed at my disposal. But
I had been so fortunate as to procure an excellent Arab camel of the
renowned breed of the Bú-Saef, which was my faithful companion as far as
Kúkawa; and Mr. Warrington had made me a present of a handsome Ghadamsi
saddle or basúr, with pillows and Stambúli carpet, so that I was
comfortably mounted.
[Sidenote: Friday, March 29th.]
After a great deal of trouble (the camel-drivers and our men being as
yet unaccustomed to our unwieldy luggage), we at length succeeded in
making a start. After leaving the olive-trees and the little palm-grove
of ʿAin Zára, we very soon entered deep sand-hills, which sheltered us
from the strong wind; and after more than two hours we came upon
pasture-grounds, which furnished our camels with a variety of herbs and
gramineæ, such as the shʿade, the shedíde, and various others unknown to
me. The progress of an Arab caravan (where the camels march each after
its own inclination, straying to the right and to the left, nipping here
a straw, and there browsing on a bush) must be rather slow in districts
where the stubborn animal finds abundance of food. This way of
proceeding is extremely tedious and fatiguing to the rider; and to
obviate it the Tawárek, the Téb, and the people in the interior fasten
all the camels one behind the other. Owing to our slow progress, the sun
was almost setting when we overtook Mr. Warrington, who had pitched his
tent on a fine pasture-ground near Bir Sbaea. The last hour and a half’s
ride from the well Jenáwa lay along well-cultivated and flourishing
corn-fields extending along the narrow wadi of Mejenín[32], and
intermingled with a rich profusion of flowers, principally the beautiful
blue “khobbés.”
[Sidenote: Saturday, March 30th.]
Having indulged for some hours in the quiet enjoyment of a fine morning
and an open green country, I went with the shoush to look after Mr.
Richardson’s party. After an hour’s ride through luxuriant corn-fields,
and pasture-grounds enlivened by the horses of the Turkish cavalry, we
found Mukni, the sailor, and all Mr. Richardson’s baggage; but he
himself had not yet come up. I could not persuade the people to remove
to our encampment; so I returned, after having paid a visit to the
binbásha of the cavalry, who had been stationed here for the last
seventeen years. He had contrived to procure himself a cool retreat from
the sultry hours, by forming a regular tank, about two feet and a half
square, in the midst of his tent, and keeping it always full of water.
In the afternoon I made a long excursion with my Zintáni through the
plain, beyond the chapel of Sidi Bargúb, in order to buy a sheep; but
though the flocks were numerous, none of the shepherds would sell, as
pasturage was abundant and everyone had what he wanted. In 1846, when I
first visited the regency, the people were starving, and selling their
camels and everything they possessed to procure food.
[Sidenote: Sunday, March 31st.]
Foggy weather indicated that rain was approaching; and just in time Mr.
Richardson with his party arrived, and pitched his enormous lazaretto
tent opposite our little encampment. Mr. Reade also had come from the
town, in order to settle, if possible, the misunderstanding with our
servant Mohammed, and see us off. It is an agreeable duty for me to
acknowledge the many services which this gentleman rendered us during
our stay in Tripoli. Our whole party was detained here the following day
by the heavy rains; and Overweg and I were happy to get hold of the
black servant of the ferocious pseudo-sheríf mentioned by Mr.
Richardson, when that troublesome fellow was sent back to town, as we
were much in want of another servant.
[Sidenote: April 2nd.]
We fairly set out on our expedition. The country became more diversified
as we approached the defile formed by the Bátes and Smaera, two advanced
posts of the mountain-chain, while the varied forms of the latter, in
high cones and deep abrupt valleys, formed an interesting background.
But the country hereabouts is cultivated with less care than Wadi
Mejenín; and the ground being more stony, presents of course more
obstacles than the latter, while both districts are inhabited by the
same tribes, viz. the Urgáat and the Akára. Even here, however, in the
circle formed by the surrounding heights, was a fine extent of plain
covered with corn-fields. Just at the entrance of the pass there is a
well, where the road divides; and after a little consultation, we took
the western branch, as our people feared that on the eastern we should
not find water before night. Changing, therefore, our direction, we
seemed awhile to keep off entirely from the mountain-range till we
reached the wide but very rugged and rocky Wadi Haera, which it was our
object to reach at this spot, in order to fill our water-skins from the
pools formed by the rains. The wadi, indeed, looked as if it sometimes
bore in its floods a powerful body of water; and a considerable dike had
been constructed in the early times of the Arabs, extending for two
hundred paces from the wadi eastward; but it has fallen to ruin, and the
path leads now through the breach.
Resuming our march, after a good deal of delay, we turned sharp off
towards the mountains, and at an early hour encamped on a very pleasant
spot adorned with numerous sidr-trees (_Rhamnus Nabeca_); but instead of
enjoying it in quiet, Overweg and I felt disposed to direct our steps
towards a hill called Fulíje, about half an hour’s walk eastward, which
promised to be a convenient point for obtaining correct angles of the
prominent features of the chain, and proved to be so in reality. Having
executed this task, therefore, we returned to our companions well
satisfied, and spent the evening in the comfortable tent of Mr.
Warrington. We had now reached the slope of the chain, where some of our
people supposed that the boat would cause difficulties; but it could not
well do so after being cut into quarters, which fitted to the sides of
the camels rather better than the large quadrangular boxes. The most
troublesome parts were the long oars and poles, which caused the camel
much exhaustion and fatigue, by constantly swaying backwards and
forwards.
The ground, soon after we had started the next morning, became stony,
and, at three miles distance, very rugged and intersected by a number of
dry watercourses. The landscape was enlivened not only by our own
caravan, composed of so many heterogeneous elements, but also by some
other parties who happened to be coming down the slope: first, the
Kaimakám of the Jébel, then a slave caravan, consisting of about sixty
of these poor creatures, of whom the younger, at least, seemed to take a
cheerful interest in the varied features of the country. The Wadi Bú
Ghelán, where the ascent commences, is here and there adorned with
clusters of date-trees. In about an hour the first camels of our party
reached the terrace of Beni ʿAbbás; and till the whole had accomplished
the ascent, I had leisure to dismount from my tractable Bú-saefi, and to
sit down quietly under a fine olive-tree near the chapel of the Merábet
Sámes, watching them as they came up one by one, and cheered by the
conviction that the expedition was at length in full train. The country
was here hilly, and the path often very narrow and deeply cut in the
marly soil. Further on, Overweg and I, together with our shoush, turned
off a little to the right from the great caravan-road, and, passing
through fine corn-fields interspersed with flowers of different kinds,
reached the village Gwásem, lying at a short distance from the eastern
foot of Mount Tekút, where we were treated with sour milk by a friend of
our companions. When we had overtaken our caravan, I found time to pay a
visit to the Roman sepulchre[33], and ascertained that the base measured
24 ft. in every direction, the principal body of the monument,
containing the sepulchral chamber, having fallen in entirely. From this
point we began to ascend the second terrace, and reached the level of
the plateau at two o’clock in the afternoon. The country had now a much
more interesting appearance than when I was here two months before,
being at present all covered with green corn. Having started in the
direction of the castle, we descended, a little before reaching it,
along the shelving ground towards Wadi Rummána, and encamped on the spot
where the troups usually bivouac.
Here we remained the following day, when, in order to settle formally
the demands of our camel-drivers, we had all our things accurately
weighed by the officials of the castle. The little market did not grow
busy till ten o’clock. The chief articles for sale were three head of
cattle, one camel, some sheep and goats, a few water-skins, some barley,
a few eggs, and sandals; but at noon it was moderately thronged. In the
afternoon we paid a visit to several subterranean dwellings, but were
disappointed in not getting access into an entirely new structure of
this kind, formed of a much harder sort of clay. Our cheerful friend Mr.
Warrington, in order to treat our party before he separated from it for
a length of time which nobody could foresee, got an immense bowl of
kuskus prepared, seasoned in the most savoury manner; and our whole
party long indulged in the remembrance of this delicate dish as a luxury
beyond reach. The site of our encampment was most pleasant: below us the
wadi, rich with varied vegetation; while towards the north the Tekút,
with its regularly-shaped crater towering proudly over the lower
eminences around, formed a most interesting object.
[Sidenote: Friday, April 5th.]
Though busy at an early hour, we did not get off till late; for many
things were still to be settled here. We separated from Mr. Warrington;
and of the three travellers I was the only one whom he was ever to see
again.
Our path was at first very winding, as we had to turn round the deep
indentation of the Wadi Rummána, after which it took a straighter
course, passing through several villages, with their respective olive-
groves, till we reached Bu Sriyán, where the cultivation of the olive-
tree ceased entirely for some distance, and the country became more
open. Here we made another considerable deviation from our southerly
direction, and followed a wide valley with much cultivated ground.
Having reached the village Sémsa, situated upon an eminence to our
right, we turned off eastward into a very pleasant ravine with an olive-
grove, and then began the steep ascent towards the height Kuléba[34],
which forms the passage over this southern crest of the plateau. While
the camels in long rows moved slowly onwards, with their heavy loads, on
the narrow and steep rocky path, I, allowing my camel to follow the
rest, ascended directly to the village, which is situated round the
eastern slope, and is still tolerably well inhabited, although many a
house has fallen to ruin; for it has a considerable extent of territory;
and owing to its situation as the southernmost point of Ghurián, the
inhabitants are the natural carriers and agents between the northern
districts and the desert. On the highest crest, commanding the village,
there was formerly a castle; but it has been destroyed by the Turks.
Having descended a little into the barren valley, we encamped, at two
o’clock in the afternoon, on the slope of the western hills, near the
last scanty olive-trees, and not far from the well, from which we
intended to take a sufficient supply of water to last us till we reached
Mizda. While our people, therefore, were busy watering the camels and
filling our water-skins, Overweg and I, accompanied by two of the
inhabitants of the village, who had followed us, ascended a conspicuous
mount, Jebel Toëshe, the highest in the neighbourhood, on the top of
which a village is said to have existed in former times. We took several
angles; but there is no very high point about Mizda which could serve as
a landmark in that direction.
[Sidenote: Saturday, April 6th.]
The country through which we were marching, along irregular valleys,
mostly of limestone formation, exhibited scattered patches of corn for
about the first three miles, after which almost every sign of
cultivation suddenly ceased, and the “Twél el Khamér,” stretching from
N.W. to S.E., about two miles distant on the right, formed, as it were,
the northern boundary of the naked soil. On its slope a few trees of the
kind called radúk by the Arabs were seen from the distance. We then
entered desolate stony valleys, famous for the bloody skirmishes which
are said to have once taken place there between the Urfílla and the
Welád Bu Séf, in the time of ʿAbd el Jelíl. Refreshing, therefore, was
the aspect of Wadi Ranne, which, extending from E. to S.W., was
overgrown with green herbage, and had two wells.
A little beyond, near the hill, or rather slope, called Shʿabet el
Kadím, the latter part of which name seems, indeed, to have some
reference to antiquity, we found the first Roman milestone, with the
inscription now effaced; but further on, Mr. Overweg, who went on foot
and was far behind the main body of our caravan, succeeded in
discovering some milestones with inscriptions, which he regretted very
much not being able to show to me. Hereabouts commences the region of
the batúm-tree, which, with the fresh green of its foliage, contributes
a good deal to enliven and adorn some favoured spots of this sterile,
gravelly tract. To the left of our path were some remarkable basaltic
cones, starting up from the calcareous ridge. The ground was strewn with
numerous flint-stones. About four o’clock P.M. I went to look at a
curious quadrangular and regularly-hewn stone, three feet in breadth and
length, but only eight inches thick, which was standing upright at some
distance from the caravan. It was evidently meant to face the west; but
no trace of an inscription was to be seen. About a mile further on we
encamped at the foot of the western chain, which rose to a height of
about 300 feet, and formed a narrow cleft with the eastern chain, which
at this point closes upon it. In this corner (which collects the
humidity of two valleys), besides several batúm-trees, a little corn had
been sown. Panthers are said to be numerous in this region.
The next day we directed our march towards the pass, crossing the dry
beds of several small torrents, and a broader channel bordered by plenty
of batúm-trees. After an hour’s march, we had reached the summit of the
pass, which now began to widen, the heights receding on each side, and a
more distant range bounding the view. We found in the holes of the rocky
bottom of Wadi Mezummíta, which we crossed about half-past eight,
several pools of rain-water, affording us a most refreshing drink; but
it was quite an extra treat, owing to recent heavy rains which had
fallen here, for in general the traveller cannot rely on finding water
in this place. The ground becoming very stony and rugged, our progress
was excessively slow—not above half an English geographical mile in
seventeen minutes. The hills on our right displayed to the view regular
layers of sandstone. Another long defile followed, which at length
brought us to a plain called Wadi Lilla, encompassed by hills, and
offering several traces of former cultivation, while other traces,
further on, bore testimony to the industry of the Romans. A small herd
of goats, and the barking of a dog, showed that even at present the
country is not wholly deserted. In our immediate neighbourhood it even
became more than usually enlivened by the passage of a slave-caravan,
with twenty-five camels and about sixty slaves, mostly females.
After having passed a small defile, we at length emerged into the north-
west branch of the valley of Mizda, called here Wadi Udé-Sheráb, the
channel of which is lined with a considerable number of batúm-trees.
Crossing the stony bottom of this plain, after a stretch of three miles
more we reached the western end of the oasis of Mizda, which, though my
fancy had given it a greater extent, filled me with joy at the sight of
the fine fields of barley, now approaching maturity—the crop, owing to
the regular irrigation, being remarkably uniform—while the grove of
date-trees encompassed the whole picture with a striking and interesting
frame. So we proceeded, passing between the two entirely-separated
quarters, or villages, distinguished as the upper, “el fók,” and the
lower, “el utah,” and encamped on the sandy open space a little beyond
the lower village, near a well which formerly had irrigated a garden.
People going to Tripoli encamp at the other end of the oasis, as was
done by a caravan of Ghadamsi people with slaves from Fezzán, on the
following day.
Mizda, most probably identical with the eastern “Musti kome” of Ptolemy,
appears to have been an ancient settlement of the indigenous inhabitants
of North Africa, the Berbers, and more particularly of a family or tribe
of them called “Kuntarár,” who even at present, though greatly
intermixed with Arabs, have not entirely forgotten their Berber idiom.
The oasis lies in the upper part of Wadi Sofejín, or rather a branch of
it, stretching out from SW. to NE., which has in some parts a great
breadth. The natural advantage, or productive principle, of the locality
seems to lie in the circumstance that the humidity carried down by the
Wadi Sheráb is here arrested by a hill, and absorbed by the clayey soil.
This hill is of a lengthened form, and consists entirely of gypsum. From
its summit, which affords the best prospect of the whole locality, I
made a view of the western village; while from a more elevated height
further west, called Madúm, I made the accompanying sketch of the whole
locality.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
MIZDA.
April 8th. 1850.]
The wells have little depth, and the water is drawn to the surface by
means of oxen; but there being at present only three specimens of this
precious animal in the place, the wells are far from being made use of
to the extent which is practicable and has been once practised, as may
be concluded from the pillars which extend to a considerable distance on
the plain. The town, as I said, consists of two distinct quarters or
villages, of which the western one, situated at the eastern foot of the
hill, is by far the larger; it is built exactly in the character of the
ksúr of the Algerian Sahara, with high round towers decreasing a little
in width towards the upper part, and furnished with several rows of
loopholes. The wall, purposely built with a great many salient and
retiring angles, is in a state of decay, and many of the houses are in
ruins; but the village can still boast a hundred full-grown men able to
bear arms. The chief of this village always resides in it, while that of
the other generally lives at some distance under tents. The
circumference of the village, together with the palm-grove attached to
its eastern side, and consisting of about 200 trees, is 2260 paces.
[Illustration]
The lower or south-eastern village, the circumference of which is 600
paces, is separated from the former by an interval of about 400 paces,
and has at present no palm-grove, all the gardens having been destroyed
or ruined by neglect, and only twenty or thirty palm-trees now remaining
scattered about the place. About 100 paces further down the declivity of
the valley, is a group of three small gardens surrounded by a wall, but
in bad condition; and at about the same distance beyond, another in the
same state. The only advantage peculiar to this quarter is that of a
large “zawíya,” the principal articles in the inventory of which are
eight holy doves. But this also has now become but an imaginary
advantage, as, according to its learned keeper’s doleful complaints, it
is very rarely visited. In this as well as in the other quarter, all the
houses are built of gypsum. As Mizda is a very remarkable feature in the
country, I thought it worth while to make a particular sketch of the
oasis also from this side.
This oasis is very diminutive; but two caravan-routes, one from Murzuk
and one from Ghadámes, join at this point. The inhabitants are of a mild
disposition, and enjoy the fame of strict honesty. Everything is here
considered as secure; and the camels which cannot find food in the
neighbourhood, are driven into the green valley at four or five miles’
distance, and left there without a guardian. I make these statements
advisedly, as reflections of a different kind have been made on their
character. The people seem to suffer much from sore eyes. When we asked
them about the most remarkable features of the road before us, they
spoke of a high mount, Teránsa[35] which, however, we did not afterwards
recognize.
[Illustration]
In the afternoon I made an excursion with Overweg to Jebel Durmán,
situated at the distance of a mile and a half south-east. It is rather a
spur of the plateau jutting out into the broad valley, and, with its
steep, precipitous, and washed walls, nearly detached and extremely
narrow as it is—a mere neck of rock—looks much like a castle. Upon the
middle of its steep side is a small zawíya belonging to the Zintán. The
prospect from this steep and almost insulated pile could not, of course,
be very extensive, as the mount itself is on the general level of the
plateau; but we obtained a fine view over the sea of heights surrounding
the broad valley and the several tributaries of which it is formed.
Night was setting in, and we returned to our tent.
Having heard our Zintáni make frequent mention of an ancient castle with
numerous sculptures, and situated at no great distance, I resolved to
visit it, and set out tolerably early in the morning of the 9th of
April, accompanied by the Arab and one of our shoushes.
We had first to send for one of our camels, which was grazing at about
three miles’ distance, in the sandy bottom of the wadi S.E. from our
encampment. It was only on this occasion that I became aware of the
exact nature of the valley of Mizda, and its relation to the Wadi
Sófejín; for we did not reach this latter wadi until we had traversed
the whole breadth of the sandy plain, and crossed a mountain-spur along
a defile called Khurmet bu Mátek, at the distance of at least eight
miles from our encampment. This is the famous valley mentioned, in the
11th century, by the celebrated Andalusian geographer El Bekri[36], and
the various produce of which the Arabs of the present day celebrate in
song:—
rás-há e’ ttín ú merjín
ú wost-há bazín
ú ghár-há ʿajin.
Figs and olive-trees adorn its upper part, which is said to stretch out
as far as Erhebát, a district one day and a half beyond Zintán; barley
is cultivated in its middle course, while wheat, from which the
favourite dish ʿajín is made, is grown chiefly in its lower part near
Tawárgha. The valley seems worthy of better fortune than that to which
it is reduced at present; for when we marched along it, where it ran S.
20 W. to N. 20 E., we passed ruins of buildings and water-channels,
while the soil exhibited evident traces of former cultivation. I
listened with interest to the Zintáni, who told me that the valley
produced an excellent kind of barley, and that the Kuntarár, as well as
the people of Zintán, his countrymen, and the Welád Bu-Séf, vied with
each other in cultivating it, and, in former times at least, had often
engaged in bloody contests for the proprietorship of the ground. When I
expressed my surprise at his joining the name of his countrymen with
those of the other tribes hereabouts, he gave me the interesting
information that the Zintán had been the first and most powerful of all
the tribes in this quarter before the time of the Turks, and held all
this country in a state of subjection. Since then their political power
and influence had been annihilated, but they had obtained by other means
right of possession in Mizda as well as in Gharíya, and still further,
in the very heart of Fezzán, by lending the people money to buy corn, or
else corn in kind, and had in this way obtained the proprietorship of a
great number of the date-trees, which were cultivated and taken care of
by the inhabitants for a share of the produce. Formerly the people of
Zintán were in possession of a large castle, where they stored up their
provisions; but since the time of the Turkish dominion, their custom has
been to bring home the fruits of their harvests only as they want them.
In Wadi Sháti we were to meet a caravan of these enterprising people.
While engaged in this kind of conversation we entered a smaller lateral
valley of Wadi Sófejín, and reached the foot of a projecting hill on its
western side, which is crowned with a castle. Here it was that I was to
find marvellous ancient sculptures and drawings; but I soon perceived
that it would be as well not to cherish any high expectations. The
castle, as it now stands, is evidently an Arab edifice of an early
period, built of common stones hewn with some regularity, and set in
horizontal layers, but not all of the same thickness. It forms almost a
regular square, and contains several vaulted rooms, all arranged with a
certain degree of symmetry and regularity. But while we pronounce the
main building to be Arab, the gateway appears to be evidently of Roman
workmanship, and must have belonged to some older edifice which the Arab
chieftain who built this castle probably found in the place,—a
conjecture which seems to be confirmed by several ornamental fragments
lying about.
[Illustration]
It is a pity that we know so little of the domestic history of these
countries during the period of the Arab dynasties, though a step in
advance has been made by the complete publication of Ebn Khaldún’s
history; else we should regard with more interest these relics of their
days of petty independence. This castle, as well as another, the
description of which I shall subjoin here, though it was visited some
days later, is called after a man named Khafáji ʿAámer, who is said to
have been a powerful chief of great authority in Tunis no less than in
Tarábolus (Tripoli).[37]
[Illustration]
The other ruin, related to this one as well by name as by the style of
its workmanship—but in many respects more interesting, having been
evidently once a place of Christian worship—stands on a narrow and
detached neck of rock in the Shʿabet Um el Kharáb, and, from its whole
plan, appears to have been originally and principally a church about
forty-three feet square, sufficiently large for a small congregation,
and with more art and comfort than one can easily suppose a Christian
community in these quarters ever to have possessed. Hence greater
interest attaches to this building than it would otherwise deserve. It
closes with a plain apsis, in which there are two openings or doorways
leading into an open room stretching behind it and the side-naves, and
is divided into three naves, the middle one of which is eight paces, and
the lateral ones six and a half, wide. The naves are divided from one
another by columns with differently-ornamented capitals supporting
arches, all in the so-called round style of architecture. I made
purposely a sketch of two different capitals, in order to show their
designs; and I think they are very characteristic. But it is curious to
observe that the walls also appear to have been originally painted on
stucco, though at present but a small piece of it remains near the
corner; hence I conclude that the date of the painting was later than
that of the erection of the church.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
The front of the building has suffered in some degree from the
depredations of the Arabs, who are said to have carried away a great
many sculptures from this place—as much, indeed, a man from Mizda would
have made me believe, as fifty-five camel-loads. However exaggerated
this statement may be, it is evident that the whole layer over the
entrance was originally covered with ornamental slabs, while now only
two remain to the left of the doorway; and these, though in the same
style of sculpture as the capitals, would rather seem to have been taken
from another edifice. There are many debatable points involved in the
consideration of this building. The first fact clearly shown is the
existence of a Christian community or a monastery in these remote
valleys, as late as the 12th century at least, under the protection of a
powerful chief; and this is not at all improbable, as we know that
Mohammed expressly ordered that zealous priests and monks should be
spared, and as we find so many monasteries in several other Mohammedan
countries. That it was not merely a church, but a monastery, seems
plainly indicated by the division into apartments or cells, which is
still clearly to be seen in the upper storey. Attached to the north side
of the church was a wing containing several simple apartments, as the
ground-plan shows; and on the south corner of the narrow ridge is a
small separate tower with two compartments. Near this ruin there is
another, which I did not visit, called Ksaer Labayed mtʿa Derayer, while
a third, called Ksaer el Haemer, has been destroyed.
[Illustration]
[Footnote 31: Unfortunately the minimum and maximum thermometers were so
deranged that Mr. Overweg was unable to repair them. We had no
barometer, and the only aneroid barometer with which we had been
provided, and which had been under the care of my companion, was damaged
on our first excursion; so that nothing was left to us but to find the
elevation of places by the boiling-point of water. I will here mention,
for the use of future travellers, that I always wore not only my
azimuth, but even my chronometer in my belt, and found this an excellent
precaution against accidents of any kind.]
[Footnote 32: The place probably derives its name from the _Ruta
tuberculata_, “Mejníneh.”]
[Footnote 33: See above, p. 45.]
[Footnote 34: “Kuléba,” or “kelúba,” is a term of frequent occurrence in
these districts for a high mountain-top. In some respects it seems to be
identical with the term “thníye,” used in other districts.]
[Footnote 35: Mount Teránsa, if it be identical with the Teránsa
mentioned above, must be to the east, along the north side of Wadi
Sofejín.]
[Footnote 36: There cannot be the least doubt that this valley is meant
in the passage cited in “Notices et Extraits,” vol. xii. p. 453.;
compare Journal Asiatique, série v. tom. i. p. 156.]
[Footnote 37: For this statement there may be, indeed, some historical
foundation. We know that, from the year of the hejra 724 (1323 A.D.)
till the year 802 (1399), there reigned in Tripoli a dynasty of the Beni
ʿAámer (Haji Khalfa’s Chronological Tables, p. 167.), who most probably
were related to the dynasty of the same name which for a long time
maintained its dominion over Tripolis in Syria.]
CHAP. V.
SCULPTURES AND ROMAN REMAINS IN THE DESERT. — GHARÍYA.
[Sidenote: April 11th.]
We lost the best part of the morning, our men not being able to find
their camels, which had roamed over the whole wadi. Our road was almost
the same as that by which I had returned the previous day; and we
encamped in the Wadi Sófejín, on a spot free from bushes. From this
place, accompanied by the Zintáni, I visited, the next morning, the
castle or convent in Shʿabet Um el kharáb, which I have described, and
thence struck across the stony plateau in order to overtake our caravan.
It was a desolate level, rarely adorned with humble herb or flower; and
we hastened our steps to reach our companions. Here I heard, from the
Zintáni, that his father came every year about this season, with his
flocks, to the valleys east of our road, and that he would certainly be
there this year also. He invited me to go thither with him, and to
indulge in milk to the extent of my wishes; as for myself, I declined,
but allowed him to go, on condition that he would return to us as soon
as possible.
Even after we had overtaken the caravan, the country continued in
general very bare; but we passed some valleys affording a good deal of
herbage, or adorned with some fine batúm-trees. About five o’clock P.M.
we encamped in Wadi Talha, not far from a Roman castle or tower on a
hill to our left. On visiting the ruin, I found it built of rough stones
without cement, being about twenty feet square in the interior, with
rounded corners, and with only one narrow gate, towards the east. But
this was not the only remnant of antiquity in the neighbourhood, for in
front of us, on the plateau, there appeared something like a tower of
greater elevation; and proceeding early the next morning, when our
people had only begun to load, to examine it, I found it to be a Roman
sepulchre, originally consisting apparently of three stories; but of
these only the base and the first story remain, while the stones
belonging to the upper one are now scattered on the ground, and show
that it was ornamented with small Corinthian columns at the corners.
Even in the most desolate spot, everything left by the Romans has a
peculiar finish. The first story, being all that at present remains,
measures 5 ft. 4 in. on the east and west, and 5 ft. 9 in. on the north
and south sides. Not far from this sepulchre are the ruins of another
one, of which, however, nothing but the base remains, if, indeed, it was
ever completed. By the time my drawing was finished, the caravan had
come up.
[Illustration]
I then passed several detached cones, the steep precipitous sides of
which, formed by the breaking away of the strata, looked like so many
castles, and traversing Wadi Marsíd, reached the camels. They marched
to-day at a very good rate, the quickest we had as yet observed in
ordinary travelling—namely, half a mile in twelve minutes, making a
little less than 2½ miles an hour; but we afterwards found that this had
now become our usual rate, whereas before reaching Mizda we had scarcely
ever exceeded 2 miles an hour. The loads of the camels, of course, had
been heavier in the beginning; but this can hardly be the only reason of
the difference. The greater dreariness of the country, and the impulse
of our camel-drivers and their beasts to get to their homes, must be
taken into account. I must here observe that Overweg and I measured our
rate repeatedly, with a chain provided by Government, although it was a
very fatiguing labour, and injurious to our dignity in the eyes of our
people. Gradually the day grew very uncomfortable, a hot west wind
driving the sand into our faces, and totally obscuring the sky. Keeping
along the Wadi Téroth, sometimes more than a mile wide, we had on our
left a broad mount, rising first with a gradual ascent, but in its upper
part forming a steep and lofty wall called el Khaddamíyeh. Here too,
according to the information of my faithful Arab, there is said to be a
Roman sepulchre. Having passed a small defile, and crossed another
valley, we had other Roman ruins on our right, a castle as it seemed,
and near it something like a sepulchre; but the sand-storm hardly
allowed us to look, still less to go in that direction.
At three o’clock in the afternoon we turned off to the west into Wadi
Tagíje, and encamped near the bed of a torrent eight feet deep, which
amply testifies that, at times, a considerable stream is formed here, a
fact confirmed by the fresh and luxuriant herbage springing up in many
parts of the valley among thick bushes and brushwood. Nor was it quite
desolate even now; for the flocks of the Welád Bu-Séf were seen, and
their tents were said to be not far off. The upper part of the valley is
called el Khúrub.
This hot day proved a _dies ater_ to my Arab, who had gone to visit his
family. Having brought his old father with him, together with a goat, as
a present, and a skin of milk, he unluckily arrived too late in the
morning at our last night’s encampment. He then sent his father back
with the goat, and began to follow us in the hope of soon overtaking the
caravan; but he was obliged to march the whole intensely-hot day without
water, and he could not drink the milk in the skin, which became quite
hot, so that he suffered greatly, and arrived in a very exhausted state.
The fine herbage procured us a whole day’s rest, as the camel-drivers
were in no haste to bring up their camels. Not knowing this, but yet
convinced that we should not start at an early hour, as the well was at
some distance, and following the information received from the Zintáni,
who was himself too lame to accompany me, I had taken my gun and pistols
at an early hour in the morning, and gone in the direction of the valley
to look after a monument. After nearly two hours’ march I distinguished
something like a high pillar, and, proceeding straight towards it, found
it to be one of the richest specimens of this kind of monument
bequeathed to us by antiquity, and an indisputable proof that these
regions, now so poor, must have then supported a population sufficiently
advanced in taste and feeling to admire works of a refined character.
The monument rises, upon a base of three steps and in three stories,
nearly to a height of forty-eight feet. The base contains a sepulchral
chamber 4 feet 10⅓ in. long, and 4 ft. ⅛ in. broad, with three niches,
one on the north, and two on the east side. This side was the principal
face of the monument, forming its most ornamented part. The first story
measures at its base on the E. and W. sides 5 feet 5⅜ inches, and on the
N. and S. sides 4 feet 10⅛ inches: it consists of six layers of stones,
on the lowest of which is represented a pair of wild animals, probably
panthers, with their forelegs or paws resting upon a sepulchral urn, as
if they were watching it; on the next layer above is seen the handsome
bust of a young female; two layers intervene without sculpture; and the
fifth is ornamented on all the four sides with hunting-scenes. The
frieze on every side is formed by four rosettes; but that on the north
side has some additional decoration, the second rosette on that side,
from the east, exhibiting a group of centaurs, and the fourth a cock.
Upon this part of the frieze is a garland of clusters of grapes; then
follows the moulding.
[Illustration]
In the second story the third layer forms the sill and lower part of a
false door very richly ornamented, and on the fifth layer a pair of
genii hold a coronal over the door of the sepulchre, a representation
which seems to intimate Christian ideas. Above it a niche contains the
busts of a man and his wife; but on the north side an elderly woman
occupies a niche with her bust, probably in her character as
proprietress of the single sepulchral niche of the tomb below. Above is
an ornament with two bunches of grapes; and then follows the frieze, of
the common Ionic order. The moulding is surmounted by a pyramidal roof
about 12 feet high, which has lost its summit; otherwise the whole
monument, with the exception of the sepulchral chamber, which has been
broken up in search of treasures, is in the best state of preservation,
notwithstanding its very slender proportions,—a circumstance very
remarkable, after a lapse of at least more than sixteen centuries. No
wonder that the natives of these regions now regard these tall
sepulchral monuments, so strange at present in this land of desolation,
as pagan idols, and call them “sanem;” for I myself, when alone in front
of the monument in this wide, solitary valley, and under the shadow of
the deep, precipitous side of a plateau adjoining the Khaddamíye on the
east, felt impressed by it with a certain degree of awe and veneration.
My sketch being finished, I was still attracted to a greater distance up
the valley by something which seemed at first to be another monument;
but it was only a mark fixed by the Arabs, and served but to lengthen my
march back, which was more slow, as the heat had set in. But I was well
satisfied with my morning’s work; and my companions were greatly
astonished when they saw the sketch. In the afternoon I made with
Overweg another excursion in the opposite direction, when after an
hour’s march we ascended a height and obtained a most interesting view
over this singular tract, which seems to be the fragmentary border of a
plateau torn and severed by ravines and precipices, so that only wall-
like cliffs, rising like so many islands out of a sea of desolation,
indicate its height. A high craggy ridge towards the west, with
precipitous pinnacled walls, looked like a castle of the demons. Just in
a ravine on the border of this wild scene of natural revolutions, my
companion had the good luck to find some very interesting fossils,
particularly that beautiful specimen which after him has been called
Exogyra Overwegi; but our zeal had carried us too far, and it grew dark
as we commenced our return, so that we had some difficulty in groping
our way back to our encampment, where we arrived weary and fatigued,
after having caused our people a good deal of apprehension.
[Sidenote: April 14th.]
We were roused from our refreshing sleep as early as two o’clock after
midnight; but this was a mere sham of our camel-drivers, who feigned
making up for the loss of yesterday, and after all we did not get off
early. Our road carried us from wadi to wadi, which were generally
separated from each other by a defile, occasionally presenting some
difficulty of passage. We left a castle of Roman workmanship, as it
seemed, in the distance to the left, and further on to the right a
slight stone wall called Hakl el Urínsa, dating from the petty wars
between the Arab tribes. We had already passed a few small ethel-bushes;
but now we came to a most venerable-looking old tree called Athelet Si
Mohammed fi Useát, spreading out its weatherbeaten branches to a
considerable distance: under this I sat down quietly for a while,
waiting for our people, who were still behind. The caravan at length
came up; and continuing our march, we soon passed on our right hand the
chapel of a great Merábet of the Welád Bu-Séf, called Si Rashedán. The
Welád Bu-Séf in general enjoy great authority with the other tribes for
their sanctity of life and purity of manners; they allow no stranger to
come near their villages, but pitch a tent for him at a distance, and
treat him well. The person at present most distinguished among them for
learning seems to be an old man named Sidi Bubakr, who exercises great
influence, and is able to grant serviceable protection to travellers in
time of war.
The Welád Bu-Séf are remarkable for the excellent breed of their camels,
which they treat almost as members of their families. It is curious that
this tribe, intent upon right and justice, has waged war incessantly
from ancient times with the Urfílla, the most warlike and violent of the
tribes of these regions. It is difficult to make out whether they are
related to the Welád Bu-Séf of the western part of the desert, who are
likewise distinguished by their peculiar manners, but who it seems would
scruple, on religious grounds, to call a man ʿAbd e’ nebi (Slave of the
Prophet), which is the name of the ancestor of the Eastern Bu-Séf.
Emerging from a defile, upon high ground, early in the afternoon, we
obtained a view over Wadi Zémzem, one of the most celebrated valleys of
this part of North Africa. It runs in general from W. to E.N.E., and is
furnished with a great many wells, the most famous of which are El
Abiadh, Sméla, Nákhala, Urídden, Halk el Wadi, and, a little further
down, Téder. In half an hour we encamped in the valley, full of herbage
and with a goodly variety of trees. A caravan coming from the natron-
lakes, and carrying their produce to Tripoli, was here encamped. I could
not withstand the temptation of ascending, in the afternoon, a
projecting eminence on the south side of the valley, which was broken
and rent into a great variety of precipices and ravines; but its summit,
being on a level with the plateau, did not afford me such a distant view
as I had expected. The cliff was formed of strata of marl and gypsum,
and contained many fossil shells.
[Sidenote: Monday, April 15th.]
As soon as we left the bottom of the valley, the path, which became
rugged and stony, led up the southern cliffs, went round the east side
of the conspicuous promontory, and then continued to wind along between
the slopes of the higher level of the plateau. A hill, distinguished
from among the surrounding heights by the peculiar shape of its cone,
has here received the significant name Shúsh el ʿabíd—the Slaves’ Cap. A
little further on, the roads separate, that to the left leading along
the principal branch of the valley to the little town Gharíya, while the
eastern goes to the well Taboníye.
One might suppose that in a desolate country like this, and just at the
entrance into a desert tract of great extent, the caravans would gladly
avail themselves of those abodes of life which still exist: but this is
not the case; they avoid them intentionally, as if a curse were attached
to them, and those places, of course, fall every day more and more into
decay. After a little consultation, the path by Taboníye was thought
preferable, and we took it. The rough and stony character of the country
ceased, and we gradually entered a fine valley, called Wadi Tolágga,
richly clothed with a variety of trees and bushes, such as the sidr, the
ethel, the ghurdok, and several others. After meeting here with a
caravan, we caught the gladdening and rare sight of an Arab encampment,
belonging to the Urínsa, and obtained some milk. Without crossing any
separation or defile, but always keeping along the same valley, we
approached the well Taboníye. But near it the vegetation is less rich;
the soil is intermixed with salt, and covered with a peculiar kind of
low tree called by the present inhabitants of the country, frʿo,—a term
which in pure Arabic would only mean “a branch.”
While our people were busily employed pitching the tents, I went at once
to examine a monument which, for the last hour of our march, had stood
as a landmark ahead of us. I reached it at the distance of a mile and a
quarter from our encampment, over very stony and rugged ground. It was
well worth the pains I had taken; for, though it is less magnificent
than the monument in W. Tagíje, its workmanship would excite the
interest of travellers, even if it were situated in a fertile and well-
inhabited country, and not in a desolate wilderness like this, where a
splendid building is of course an object of far greater curiosity. It is
a sepulchre about twenty-five feet high, and rising in three stories of
less slender proportions than the monument above described, and is
probably of a later period. The accompanying sketch will suffice to give
an exact idea of it.
[Illustration]
Near this is another sepulchre, occupying a more commanding situation,
and therefore probably of older date, but it is almost entirely
destroyed; and a third one in an equally ruinous state, but of larger
proportions than either, is seen further S.E. These monuments serve to
show that the dominion of the Romans in these regions was not of
momentary duration, but continued for a length of time, as the different
styles of the remains clearly proves. It may be presumed that no common
soldier could pretend to the honour of such a tomb; and it is probable
that these sepulchres were destined to contain the earthly remains of
some of the consecutive governors or officers stationed at the
neighbouring place, which I shall soon describe.
Like a solitary beacon of civilization, the monument rises over this
sea-like level of desolation, which, stretching out to an immense
distance south and west, appears not to have appalled the conquerors of
the ancient world, who even here have left behind them, in “lithographed
proof,” a reminiscence of a more elevated order of life than exists at
present in these regions.
The flat valley below, with its green strip of herbage, stretches far
into the stony level; and beyond, north-eastwards, the desolate waste
extends towards Gharíya.
I returned to the encampment, which meanwhile had sprung up on the open
space round the well, and was anxious to quench my thirst with a draught
of the precious liquid; but the water was rather salt, and disagreed
with me so long as I continued to use it,—that is, for the next seven
days. That we might make good use of our leisure hours, all three of us
went the next day to Gharíya, or rather Gharíya el gharbíya—_i.e._
western, to distinguish it from the more distant eastern place of the
same name.
Cheerfully as we set forward, we were heartily glad when, after a three
hours’ march, we saw the northern tower of the place become visible over
the monotonous stony plain, the wide and unbounded expanse of which
seemed to indicate something above a single day’s excursion. After
having also descried the half-ruined dwellings of the village, we were
eagerly looking out for the palm-grove, when we suddenly reached the
brink of a deep ravine, in which, on our left, the fresh green
plantation started forth, while all around was naked and bare. We
crossed the ravine, leaving the grove on our left, and ascended the
opposite cliffs towards the ruined cluster of miserable cottages, when,
having traversed the desolate streets, we encamped outside the Roman
gate, the massive and regular architecture of which formed a remarkable
contrast to the frail and half-ruined structures of the village. We were
greatly astonished to find such a work here.[38]
[Illustration]
It has but little resemblance to the Roman castle or station at Bonjem,
such as it is seen in Captain Lyon’s drawing[39]; for while the latter
represents a single gateway flanked by two quadrangular towers, the
building at Gharíya consists of three archways, flanked by towers with
receding walls. The two smaller gateways have been almost entirely
filled with rubbish; the upper layer likewise is gone, and only those
stones which form the arch itself are preserved, the centre stone above
the principal arch, bearing the inscription “PRO. AFR.ILL.” (provincia
Africæ illustris), encircled by a coronal, while that above the eastern
side-gate is ornamented with a large sculpture, the lower part of which
it is difficult to make out distinctly, except the trace of a chariot
and a person in curious attire following it[40], while the upper part
represents two eagles in a sitting posture, with half-extended wings,
holding a coronal, and at each end a female genius, in a flying posture,
stretching out a larger and a smaller coronal. Besides this, and a few
Berber names[41], there is no inscription now on the building; but an
inscription found in another place, which I shall soon mention, and
which was probably originally placed over the small archway on the
right[42], seems to leave no doubt that this fortification dates from
the time of Marc. Aurel. Severus Antoninus[43], and if not built in the
years between 232 and 235 after Christ, at least was then in existence.
As the ground-plan, which is here subjoined, evidently shows, this is
not by itself a complete building, and could only afford quarters to a
very limited number of soldiers acting as a guard: in fact it can only
be the well-fortified entrance into the Roman station; but of the
station itself I was unable to discover any traces, though a great
quantity of stones from some building lie scattered about in the
village. The only ancient building which I was able to discover, besides
the gate, was a cistern at the N.W. corner of the wall, near the slope
into the wadi, which is here very precipitous. It was probably 60 ft.
long, for at 30 ft. there is an arch dividing it; but one half of it,
except a space of about 8 ft., has been filled with rubbish: its breadth
is 5 ft. 3½ in. Perhaps the whole fortification was never finished; the
inner edge of the stones would seem to intimate that not even the
gateway received its entire ornament.
[Illustration]
While I was busy making a drawing of the ruins, Overweg, who, in order
to measure the elevation of the place by boiling water, had directed his
steps to a rising ground at some distance north of the village, which
was crowned with a tower, sent to inform me that on the tower was a
large Roman inscription, which he was unable to make out; and as soon as
I had finished my sketch I went thither. It is a round Arab tower, only
two large ancient stones having been made use of as jambs, while a large
slab, covered with an inscription, is used as an impost, owing to which
circumstance the inhabitants generally regard even the tower as a
Christian or Roman building. The inscription, which was evidently taken
from the fortified station, is 32⁷⁄₁₂ in. long, and 15¹⁰⁄₁₂ in. high,
and consists of nine lines. It has been read and interpreted by Mr. Hogg
in the following manner.
I(mperatori) Caes(ari) M. Aurelio Severo Alexandro[44] P(atri) P(atriæ)
P(i)o Felici Aug(usto) Et pagus et senatus et castr(um) [_or_ castrum
munitum] et municipium . . . . d. d.; poni curavit Severianæ P. Nero
situs vexillationis leg(ioni)s IV. S(cythicæ); [_or_ legionis XXI.
Victricis Severianæ] dec(urio) Maurorum e(t) solo (o)pere (e)andem
vexillationem instituit.
“To the Emperor Caesar M. Aurelius Severus, Father of his Country,
Pious, Happy, Augustus, the district, the senate, the camp, and free
town of . . . dedicate (this). . . . . P. Nero Decurion of the Moors,
caused the station of the Severian regiment (horse) of the 21st Legion,
Victorious, Severian, to be established; and he instituted by his own
act the same regiment.”
Though in this interpretation many words are very uncertain, it is clear
from it—as it is more than probable that the inscription was taken from
the former monument—that here was the station of a squadron of horse, or
rather of an _ala sociorum_; but at the same time we have to regret that
the name of the place is among the words entirely effaced. I, however,
think it extremely improbable that it was a municipium. I will here only
add, that this direct western road to Fezzán and Jerma was not opened
before the time of Vespasian, and received then the name “(iter) præter
caput saxi,” most probably on account of its crossing the mountain-chain
near the coast at its steepest part.[45]
As for the tower, or nadhúr, it was evidently erected in former times in
order to give timely notice when a band of freebooters—“el jaesh” (the
army), as they are called here—was hovering around the solitary village;
for this seems to have been the chief cause of its destruction, the
Urfílla being said to have been always watching and lying in ambush
round this lonely place, to attack and rob small parties coming from or
going to it; they are said even to have once captured the whole place.
The consequence is, that it has now scarcely thirty male inhabitants
able to bear arms, and is avoided by the caravans as pestilent, the
water, they say, being very unwholesome. The small remnant of the
inhabitants have a very pale and ghastly appearance, but I think this is
owing rather to the bad quality of their food than to that of the water.
In former times it is said to have been celebrated on account of a
merábet of the name of Sidi Mʿadi.
As soon as I had sufficiently examined the ruins and the village, I
hastened to the bottom of the ravine. The contrast between the ruined
hovels of the village, perched on the naked rock, and the green, fresh
plantation, fed by a copious supply of water, is very great. Thick,
luxuriant, and shady clusters are here formed, principally around the
basin filled by the spring, which rushes forth from beneath a rock, and
gives life to the little oasis; its temperature I found, at half-past
one o’clock P.M., 70½° Fahr., while that of the air was 70°. The number
of the date-trees, though small, is nevertheless larger than in Mizda,
and may be nearer to 350 than to 300. The water of the ravine after a
heavy fall of rain joins the Wadi Zemzem, the principal valley of this
whole district, which together with Wadi Sófejín and Wadi Beḯ, carries
all the streams collected hereabouts to the sea.
Such is the character of Gharíya el gharbíya, uniting, even in its
present state of decay, great historical interest with that attaching to
a conspicuous and remarkable feature in the country. Whether her eastern
sister, Gharíya e’ sherkíya, awakens an equal or a still greater
interest, it is difficult to say; but it seems to have quite the same
elements of attraction as the western place, namely, a date-grove and
Roman ruins. I had a great desire to visit it; but that was not
possible, as we were to start next day from Taboníye.
According to our Zintáni, the path leading to it from the western
village first lies over the hammáda, then crosses a ravine called Wadi
Khatab, leads again over the plateau, crosses another wadi, and at
length, after about ten miles, as it seems, reaches the ravine of
Gharíya e’ sherkíya[46] stretching from W. to E., the grove, of about
the same extent as in the other oasis, being formed at the N. and W.
bases of the rocky height upon which the place stands. At the side of
the village there is, he said, a large Roman castle, far larger than
that in the western one, of about eight or ten feet elevation at
present, but without an arched gateway of that kind, and without
inscriptions. On the east side of the eminence are only a few palms, and
on the south side none. The village is distinguished by a merábet called
Bu-Sbaeha. Neither from the Zintáni nor from anybody else did I hear
that the inhabitants of these two solitary ksúr are called by the
peculiar name Warínga; I learnt it afterwards only from Mr. Richardson’s
statement[47], and I have reason to think that the name was intended for
Urínsa.
We returned by a more northern path, which at first led us through a
rather difficult rocky passage, but afterwards joined our path of
yesterday. Overweg and I had no time to lose in preparing for our
journey over the hammáda, or plateau, while Mr. Richardson was obliged,
by the conduct of the ill-provided and ill-disciplined blacks who
accompanied him, to follow us by night. We therefore got up very early
next morning, but lost a good deal of time by the quarrels among our
camel-drivers, who were trying, most unjustly, to reserve all the heavy
loads for the camels of the inexperienced Tarki lad ʿAli Karámra, till
they excited his indignation, and a furious row ensued. This youth,
though his behaviour was sometimes awkward and absurd, excited my
interest in several respects. He belonged to a family of Tawárek, as
they are called, settled in Wadi el Gharbi, and was sent by his father
to Tripoli with three camels, to try his chance of success, although
members of that nation, with the exception of the Tinylkum, rarely visit
Tripoli. He was slender and well-formed, of a glossy light-black
complexion, and with a profile truly Egyptian; his manners were
reserved, and totally different from those of his Fezzáni companions.
At length we were under way, and began gradually to ascend along the
strip of green which followed the shelving of the plateau into the
valley, leaving the Roman sepulchre at some distance to our right. The
flat Wadi Lebaerek, which is joined by Wadi Shák, was still adorned with
gattúf and rétem. It was not till we had passed the little hill called
Lebaerek, and made another slight ascent, that we reached the real level
of the terrible Hammáda; the ascent, or shelving ground, from Taboníye
to this point being called el Mudhár mtʿa el Hammáda, and the spot
itself, where the real Hammáda begins, Bú-safár, a name arising from the
obligation which every pilgrim coming from the north, who has not before
traversed this dreaded district, lies under, to add a stone to the heaps
accumulated by former travellers.
But, notwithstanding all the importance attached to the dreary character
of this region, I found it far less naked and bare than I had imagined
it to be. To the right of our path lay a small green hollow, of cheerful
appearance, a branch of which is said, probably with some degree of
exaggeration, to extend as far as Ghadámes; but the whole extent of the
Hammáda is occasionally enlivened with small green patches of herbage,
to the great relief of the camel. And this, too, is the reason why the
traveller does not advance at a rate nearly so expeditious as he would
expect. In the latter part of our preceding journey we generally had
made almost as much as two and a half miles an hour; but we scarcely got
over two on this level open ground. Of course, the wider the space the
wider the dispersion of the straggling camels; and much time is lost by
unsteady direction. At the verdant hollow called Garra mtʿa e’ Nejm the
eastern path, which is called Trík el mugítha (_via auxiliaris_), and
passes by the village of Gharíya, joined our path.
At Wadi Mʿamúra I first observed the little green bird generally called
asfír, but sometimes mesísa, which lives entirely upon the caravans as
they pass along, by picking off the vermin from the feet of the camels.
In the afternoon we observed, to our great delight, in the green patch
called el Wueshkeh, a cluster of stunted palm-trees. Hereabouts the
camel-drivers killed a considerable number of the venomous lizard called
bu-keshásh; and the Tarki in particular was resolute in not allowing any
which he saw to escape alive. After a moderate march of little more than
ten hours and a half, we encamped in a small hollow called, from a
peculiar kind of green bush growing in it, el Jederíya. A strong cold
wind, accompanied by rain, began to blow soon after we encamped. The
tent, not being sufficiently secured, was blown down in the night; and
we had some trouble in pitching it again.
Continuing our march, we passed, about ten o’clock in the morning, a
poor solitary talha-tree bearing the appellation of el Duhéda. Further
on we found truffles, which in the evening afforded us a delicious
truffle-soup. Truffles are very common in many parts of the desert; and
the greatest of Mohammedan travellers (Ebn Batúta) did not forget them
in relating his journey from Sejelmása to Waláta, in the middle of the
14th century.[48] The sky was very dark and hazy; and the moon had an
extraordinary “dára,” or halo. We slept this night without a tent, and
felt the cold very sensibly.
[Sidenote: April 19th.]
The march of the following day was a little enlivened by our meeting
with two small caravans: the first, of five camels; the second,
belonging to Ghadámsi people, and laden with ivory, of fifteen. With the
latter was also a woman, sitting quite comfortably in her little cage.
Shortly after half-past one o’clock in the afternoon, we had reached the
highest elevation of the Hammáda, indicated by a heap of stones called,
very significantly, Rejm el erhá, 1568 feet above the level of the sea.
We encamped soon after, when a very heavy gale began to blow from
N.N.W., driving the swallows, which had followed our caravan, into the
tent and the holes formed by the luggage; but the poor things found no
protection, for our tent, which was light and high-topped, was blown
down again during the night, while a heavy rain accompanied the storm,
and we as well as our little guests were left awhile without shelter, in
a very uncomfortable situation.
We started rather late the following morning, entering now upon the very
dreariest part of the Hammáda, called el Hómra. So far there had been
only one track over this stony plateau; but in the afternoon a path,
called Msér[49] ben Wáfi, branched off towards the left. This path,
which leads to the eastern parts of Wadi Sháti, formed formerly the
common road to Fezzán, the road by way of el Hasi being considered as
too insecure, on account of the robberies of the Urfílla. Hence the
latter is still called the new road, “Trík el jedíd.” Richardson, who
had had enough of the inconveniences of travelling by night, easily got
in advance of us this morning, after our short march of yesterday, and
had advanced a good way by daytime. We were therefore anxious to come up
with him; and on our way we encountered a heavy shower of rain before we
pitched our tent.
[Sidenote: Sunday, April 21st.]
The whole caravan being once more united, the increased variety of our
own party relieved a good deal of the feeling of monotony arising from
the desolate character of the country through which we travelled. After
marching about seven miles, we arrived at the greenest and largest
hollow of the Hammáda, called Wadi el Alga, which we ought to have
reached yesterday, in order to be able to get this day as near the well
as possible.
As it was, when we encamped in the afternoon, we had still a long day’s
march before us, and therefore the next day, from general impulse, in
order to make sure of our arrival at the well, we started at an early
hour, keeping the caravan together by repeated shouting. After a march
of about twelve miles, we reached the first passage leading down from
the Hammáda and called Tníe[50] Twennín; but it was too steep and
precipitous for our rather heavily laden caravan, and we had to continue
till we reached the Tníe el ʿArdha, a little after eleven o’clock, when
we began to descend from the plateau along a rough winding pass. The
sandstone of which it is formed presented to us a surface so completely
blackened, not only in the unbroken walls of the ravine, but also in the
immense blocks which had been detached from the cliffs, and were lying
about in great confusion, that at first sight anybody would have taken
it for basalt; but when the stones were broken, their real nature became
apparent. Over this broad layer of sandstone, which in some places
covered a bed of clay mixed with gypsum, there was a layer of marl, and
over this, forming the upper crust, limestone and flints.
After a winding course for an hour, the narrow ravine, shut in by steep,
gloomy-looking cliffs, began to widen, and our direction varied less;
but still the whole district retained a gloomy aspect, and the bottom of
the valley was strewn with masses of black sandstone, while the country
ahead of us lay concealed in a hazy atmosphere, which did not admit of
an extensive view. Eager to reach the well, the caravan being scattered
over a great extent of ground, we three travellers, with one of the
shoushes, pushed on in advance, the south wind driving the sand, which
lay in narrow strips along the pebbly ground, into our faces. We
cherished the hope of finding a cool little grove, or at least some
shade, where we might recline at ease after our fatiguing march; but, to
our great disappointment, the sand became deeper, and nothing was to be
seen but small stunted palm-bushes. But even these ceased near the well,
which was dug in the midst of the sandy waste, and had once been
protected by an oval-shaped building, of which nothing but crumbling
ruins remained.
It was a cheerless encampment after so fatiguing a march; but there was
at least no more fear of scarcity of water, for the well had an abundant
supply. No name could be more appropriate to this place than el Hasi
(the well). There is no need of any discriminating surname; it is “the
Well”—the well where the traveller who has successfully crossed the
Hammáda may be sure to quench his own thirst and that of his animals.
But it is not a cheerful resting-place, though it is the great watering-
place on this desert road, as he has to cross the fearful “burning
plain” of the Hammáda before he reaches the spot.[51] There are several
wells hereabouts, which might easily supply with water the largest
caravan in an hour’s time; for the water is always bubbling up, and
keeps the same level.
The well at the side of which we had encamped is rather narrow and deep,
and therefore inconvenient for a large party; but it is, though
slightly, protected by the ruins around against the wind, which is often
very troublesome, and was particularly so on the evening of our arrival.
Formerly there was here a sort of fortified khan, such as is very rarely
seen in these parts, built by the tribes of the Notmán and Swaíd[52], in
order to protect their caravans against the pillaging parties of the
Urfílla, originally a Berber tribe. This building consisted of simple
chambers, twenty, as it seems, in number, lying round an oval court
which has entrances from north and south. It is thirty paces long by
sixteen wide, the centre being occupied by the well, which, as it is dug
in the sandy soil, bears the general name Hasi. It has a depth of five
fathoms; and its temperature was found to be 71⅗° Fahr. The quality of
the water, in comparison with that of Taboníye, was very good. The
elevation of this place was found by Overweg to be 696 feet; so that we
had descended from the highest point of the Hammáda 742 feet.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
EL HASI.
April 23rd. 1850.]
As it was, we felt heartily glad when our steady and heavy Tripolitan
tent being at length pitched, we were able to stretch ourselves without
being covered with sand. All the people were greatly fatigued, and
required repose more than anything else. Out of regard to the men as
well as to the camels, we were obliged to stay here the following day,
though the place was comfortless in the extreme, and did not offer the
smallest bit of shade. The accompanying sketch, which I made this day of
the place, with the slope of the Hammáda in the background, will give
but a faint idea of its desolate character. Scarcely any of our places
of encampment on the whole journey seemed to me so bad and cheerless as
this. If I had had an animal to mount, I would have gone on to a cluster
of three or four date-trees, which are said to be at the distance of
about three miles west from the well, and belong to the people of
Zintán, to enjoy a little shade; but our camels were too much
distressed.
[Footnote 38: A copy of my drawing of this interesting monument, of its
ground-plan, and of the inscription, was sent by me to Dr. Patrick
Colquhoun in May, 1850; and a short and learned treatise on it was
published by John Hogg, Esq., in the Transactions of the Royal Society
of Literature, vol. iv. new series.]
[Footnote 39: Capt. Lyon’s Travels, p. 67.]
[Footnote 40: This might represent the subjugated nation or prince.]
[Footnote 41: Among these the following names can be made out with
certainty, leaving only the short vowels, which are not expressed, in
some doubt. Umaghmagh~d~úmer or úmaghem ghedúmer, Múthemaghe~m~.
besmeter. me~n~menýr. The letters underlined are not certain. It is
scarcely necessary to say that these inscriptions were made upon the
building at a later period, and that Mr. Hogg was wrong when, taking
them for Punic, and thinking that I had overlooked “the most remarkable
portions of this remain,” he believed them to be taken from some older
Punic building.]
[Footnote 42: This is a very probable conjecture of Mr. Hogg.]
[Footnote 43: Although the name ANTONINO has suffered a little in the
inscription, yet copying it, as I did, without any prejudice, I found
sufficient traces of the letters composing this name; and I hardly think
that I have been mistaken. If so, it is a curious and remarkable
instance of this title, which Severus Alexander is said to have refused.
See Gibbon, vol. i. p. 289.]
[Footnote 44: See note, p. 128.]
[Footnote 45: Plinius H. N. l. v. c. 5.: “Ad Garamantas iter
inexplicabile adhuc fuit. Proximo bello, quod cum Œensibus Romani
gessere auspiciis Vespasiani Imperatoris, compendium viæ quatridui
deprehensum est. Hoc iter vocatur _Præter caput saxi_.”]
[Footnote 46: It is scarcely necessary to mention that Mr. J. Hogg has
been greatly mistaken in identifying this place with Ghirza, which lies
at a great distance.]
[Footnote 47: Vol. i. p. 40.]
[Footnote 48: Journal Asiatique, 1843, série iv. tom. i. p. 189.]
[Footnote 49: The name Msér, being pure Arabic, testifies to its
antiquity; for at present no Arab hereabouts would call a track or path
by this name. It is properly the journey itself.]
[Footnote 50: Tníe, or rather thníye, ثنِيّةٌ is a classical and still
popular Arabic expression for a winding pass over high ground or up a
hill.]
[Footnote 51: El hammáda is a very common name in North Africa for a
stony level plain; but it is generally accompanied by a surname. The
name is mentioned and explained by Ebn Khaldún, vol. ii. p. 358., trans.
M. de Slane.]
[Footnote 52: The Swaíd were formerly a very powerful tribe in Algeria,
and are often mentioned by Ebn Khaldún. In vol. i. pp. 94. 101. their
subdivisions are enumerated.]
CHAP. VI.
WADI SHATI. — OLD JERMA. — ARRIVAL IN MURZUK.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, April 24th.]
There are three roads from el Hasi: the westernmost called Trík e’
duésa, after a small cluster of palm-trees; the second, called Trík e’
safar, stony and more desolate than the former, but half a day shorter;
and the third, or eastern, leading directly to Bírgen. When we at
length left our uncomfortable encampment at el Hasi, our camel-drivers
chose the middle road, which proved to be dismal and dreary. But the
first part of it was not quite so bad, the appearance of granite among
the rocks causing a little variety, while tamerán and shíʿah clothed
the bottoms of the valleys; and we had a single specimen of a beautiful
and luxuriant batúm-tree. When, however, we began to enter the region
of the sand-hills, intermixed with rocky ridges and cliffs, the
character of the country became desolate in the extreme.
We travellers, being in advance, chose our resting-place for the first
night near a high rocky mass called el Medál, against the wish of the
camel-drivers, who would rather have encamped in the Shʿabet e’ talha,
further on. The summit of the rocky eminence afforded a very interesting
prospect over this singular district; and our younger shoush discovered,
lower down, some scrawled figures. He came running up to inform me of
his discovery; but it was of no interest, a cow and a sheep being the
only figures plainly recognizable. The Fezzáni people come hither in
spring, when the rain-water collects in the cavities of the rocks, and
stay some months, in order to allow the camels to graze on the young
herbage, which then shoots up here in profusion. Ben Sbaeda during such
a stay here had lost a son, near whose tomb the camel-drivers said a
prayer, or zikr, early the next morning.
[Sidenote: Thursday, April 25th.]
Continuing our march, we soon came to the Shʿabet e’ talha, the bottom
of which is clothed with the brushwood called arfísh, and with the
rétem, or broom. Further on, when we came upon the higher rocky ground,
the country grew more sterile, though we were so fortunate as to catch
two gazelles. Black masses of sandstone jutted out on all sides, and
gave a wild air to the desolate region through which we were passing.
The sterile character of the scene underwent no change till next
morning, when, on advancing about a mile and a half, we came to the Wadi
Siddre, which was enlivened by a few talha-trees. A narrow defile led us
from this place to the Wadi Boghár, whence we entered another defile.
Mid-day was past, when we obtained a distinct view of the date-grove in
Wadi Sháti[53], and the high sand-hills which border the valley on the
south. Towards the north it was rather open, and we hastened on to
escape from the hot desert through which we were marching; but a good
while elapsed before we reached the border of the valley, which on this
side abounded in herbage. After a mile and a half we reached the first
wild palm-trees, thriving in separate and casually-formed groups. Then
followed a belt of bare black ground, covered with a whitish crust of
salt. The town, on the top of a broad terraced rock, seemed as far off
as ever. But I urged on my Bu-Séfi along the winding path over the hard
ground; Richardson and Overweg followed close behind, while the camel-
drivers had fallen back to exchange their dirty costume for one more
decent. At length we reached the north-western foot of the picturesque
hill, and chose our camping-ground beyond the shallow bed of a torrent
between the date-trees and the corn-fields, near the largest fountain,—a
very agreeable resting-place, after the dreary desert which we had
traversed.
We had felt tired so long as the place was yet ahead of us; but we had
no sooner reached it than all fatigue was gone, and Overweg and I, under
the guidance of a mʿallem, went forth to view the interesting features
of the locality. It is certainly a very rare spectacle in this quarter
of the world, to see a town on the top of a steep terraced hill in the
midst of a valley, and occupying an advantageous position which might be
supposed to have given the place great importance from very ancient
times. Éderi seems to have been a considerable place till fourteen years
ago, when the independent spirit of its inhabitants was broken by the
despotism of ʿAbd el Jelíl ben Séf e’ Nasr, the famous chief of the
Welád Slimán. The old town on the top of the hill having been destroyed,
and there being no longer a necessity for a fortified residence, under
the civilized though exhausting government of the Turks, the new village
was built at the northern foot of the hill, on which side lies the
chapel of the Merábet Bu-Derbála, and another of less fame, a little
east of the former, called Sidi ʿAbd e’ Salám.
[Illustration]
The new village has two gates. Crossing it, we ascended the steep narrow
streets of the old town, which seems to have been densely inhabited, and
from the highest part, which is 190 feet above the bottom of the valley,
obtained a very interesting view over a great part of the wadi, with its
varied features,—here, black sandstone, which in several places forms
hills of considerable extent; there, green fields of wheat and barley;
then, again, a large grove of date-trees scattered in long narrow strips
behind the high sand-hills bordering the valley on the south. The black
ground, covered with a whitish crust, lay bare and naked in many parts,
while in others it was entirely overgrown with herbage. Towards the
south the slope of the rock on which the town stands is rather steep and
precipitous. On this side lie the caverns which have been already
noticed by Oudney, and which are interesting only on account of the
oval-shaped form in which they have been excavated, as they are neither
remarkable for dimensions nor for regularity; their general shape is
this: A larger group of caverns has been made in a detached rocky
eminence, upon which at present the cemetery is situated; but it is only
seventy-two feet in length, and its ground-plan is far from being
regular.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
ÉDERI.
April, 26th. 1850.]
From this place I went through the adjoining grove, which, with a little
more care, might easily become a very beautiful plantation; for there
are a great many wells of very little depth, and the water is led
through the channels with slight trouble. Our encampment in the
beautiful moonlight, with not a breath of wind to disturb the
tranquillity of the scene, was pleasant in the extreme, and we all felt
much delighted and greatly restored.
Early on Sunday morning, after having finished my sketch of the village
on the hill, with our encampment in the foreground, I took a walk all
round the scattered groups of the plantation, which must have suffered a
great deal from ʿAbd el Jelíl, even though the number of 6000 trees,
which he is said to have cut down, be an exaggeration. Towards the east
side the salt crust is still thicker than on the west, and is very
unpleasant for walking. I found here that, in addition to wheat and
barley, much amára was cultivated in the garden-fields, besides a few
figs; but I saw no grapes. Several families were living here outside in
light huts or sheds made of palm-branches, and seemed to enjoy some
degree of happiness. At the south-east end of the plantation rose a hill
also formed of marl, and very similar to that on which the town is
situated. The names of the villages along the valley, proceeding from
west to east, are the following: after Éderi, Témesán; then Wuenzerík,
Berga (a couple of villages distinguished as B. el foka and B. el
utíyah), Gúta, Turut, El Ghurda, Meherága, Agár, Gógam, Kosaer Sellám,
Támezawa, Anerúya, Zeluáz, Abrák, Gíreh, Debdeb, and Ashkiddeh. The
valley has two kaíds, one of whom, ʿAbd el Rahmán, resides at present in
Temesán, while the residence of the other, ʿAgha Hassan e’ Rawi, is in
Támezawa. Meherága seems to be the most populous of the villages. Abrák
has the advantage of a school.
[Sidenote: April 28th.]
We left our picturesque encampment in order to commence the passage over
the sand-hills which separate the shallow “rent” of Wadi Shiyáti from
the deeper valley the Wadi el Gharbi, the great valley _par excellence_.
It is rather singular that even the higher ground, which is elevated
about fifty feet above the bottom of the valley, is entirely covered
with a crust of salt. Having traversed this, we began the ascent of the
sand-hills, which in several favoured spots present small clusters of
palm-trees, which too have their proprietors. Mukni, the father of
Yusuf, Mr. Richardson’s interpreter, is said to have killed a great many
Welád Slimán hereabouts. The most considerable of the depressions or
hollows in the sand, which are decked with palm-trees, is the Wadi
Shiúkh, which afforded in truth a very curious spectacle,—a narrow range
of palm-trees half-buried between high sand-hills, some of them standing
on the tops of hillocks, others in deep hollows, with the head alone
visible. At length, after a good deal of fatigue, we encamped in Wadi
Góber, another shallow cavity between sand-hills with brackish water and
a few palm-trees. Here our camel-drivers themselves possessed a few
trees, and, of course, were more interested in the inspection of their
own property than in starting at an early hour the next day.
When we resumed our march we found our work more difficult than before,
the sand-hills assuming a steepness most trying for the camels,
particularly at the brink of the slopes. We were several times obliged
to flatten away the edges with our hands, in order to facilitate the
camel’s ascent. I went generally a little in front, conducted by
Mohammed ben Sbaeda, one of our camel-drivers, who, from the moment we
had entered Fezzán, had exchanged the quarrelsome character by which he
had made himself disagreeable to us, for very obliging and pleasing
manners, and was anxious to give me every information. He told me that
this belt of sand extended in a south-west and north-east direction from
Dwésa as far as Fukka, a place, according to him, five days’ march on
this side of Sókna. He added, that however high and steep we might think
these sand-hills, they were nothing in comparison with those in the
direction of the natron-lakes; but, in making this remark, I think he
wanted to excuse himself and his companions for taking us this long way
round by the west. He knew that it was our desire to visit the natron-
lakes, and that our direct way to Murzuk led by those lakes, while their
object was to take us to their native village Ugréfe. Mohammed stated
that each district in Fezzán has its own peculiar dialect; and he
contended that, while the inhabitants of Wadi Sháti speak a good sort of
Arabic, similar to that spoken in Mizda, the people of the great wadi
(Wadi el Gharbi) make use of a corrupt dialect.
Meanwhile the caravan remained very far behind, and we thought it
prudent to wait for them in Wadi Tawíl, particularly as the path divided
here. It was so hot that my camel, when I let it loose to browse a
little, would not touch anything. When the other camel-drivers at length
came up, there was a dispute as to the path to be followed; but the
truth was, that while there could be no doubt about the direct road to
Murzuk, some of the camel-drivers wished to take us to Ubári. But at
length the other party, interested only in carrying us westward as far
as Ugréfe, which was a great deal out of our route, got the upper hand,
and we left the road to Ubári, which passes only two wadis, or hollows,
called Tekúr and Uglah, both with bad water, to the west, and followed
the road to Ugréfe.
About four o’clock in the afternoon we encamped in the Wadi Mukméda,
near the sand-hills bordering its southern side, under the shade of a
wild palm-bush. Close to it was very good water only two feet below the
surface; but as the hole had only just been made, it contained much
sulphuretted hydrogen. The following day we crossed several smaller
valleys with a few palm-trees (but a larger grove adorned the Wadi
Jemál), all belonging to one of our camel-drivers of the name of Bu
Bakr. He also possessed here a magazine, built of bricks, and probably
several centuries old, but entirely covered with sand, where he had
deposited forty camel-loads of dates. They were of the kind called
tefsirt, of very large size and exquisite taste, and were eagerly
devoured by our people. After having refreshed ourselves for a moment,
we went on, having just before us the very steepest ascent that occurs
on the whole road. I was obliged to dismount from my beautiful Bu-Séfi
in order to get him over it. This ridge being once behind us, we were
told that all the “wár” was over; there were, however, still a few
“difficult passes” before us. In the Wadi Gellah, which we next crossed,
we found the footsteps of a flock of sheep and of a single camel, which
latter animal finds plenty of food in this sandy district, and, at the
shallow well in Wadi Uglah, is able to quench its thirst without the
assistance of man. Thence we descended into Wadi Tigidéfa, where we
encamped near a couple of palm-trees, the only ones in the wadi; a
copious well of very good water was near them, overshadowed by a thick
cluster of palm-bushes. It was altogether a very satisfactory camping-
ground, except that it swarmed with camel-bugs, as such places in the
desert generally do.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, May 1st.]
With a general impulse of energy, we started this morning at a very
early hour, twenty minutes past two o’clock in the morning, in order to
get out of the sands, and to arrive in “the Wadi.” After seven hours’
constant march, we at length got a fine view of the steep cliffs which
enclose the Wadi on the south side, and which contrasted marvellously
with the white sand-hills in the foreground; for, stretching out in a
horizontal dark line which faded away at each end, they exhibited an
illusive picture of a lake spread out before us in the remote distance.
The cool east wind, which had blown in the morning, and promised a fine
day, changed, as is very common in these regions, towards noon into a
hot south wind, and made us very uncomfortable and susceptible of the
fatigue of a long march, particularly as the distance proved much
greater than we had expected. Indeed it was not till nearly two o’clock
in the afternoon, that Mr. Richardson and I, who were much in advance of
the caravan, reached the border of the Wadi, and shortly afterwards the
well Moghrás, at the foot of two tall palm-trees, where we found a woman
with two neatly dressed children. They belonged to the Azkár-Tawárek,
who, leaving their miserable abodes, migrate to these more fertile
districts, where they build themselves light cottages of palm-branches,
and indulge in a patriarchal life, breeding camels and rearing sheep.
Near almost every village in the Wadi, outside the palm-grove, in the
bare naked bottom of the valley, these poor people form a sort of suburb
of frail huts; but nevertheless they keep up family ties with their
brethren near Ghát, and respect in some degree the authority of the
chief Nakhnúkhen. That this state of things might become very
unfavourable to Fezzán in an outbreak of hostilities between the Turks
and the Tawárek, is obvious; I shall have occasion to say more on this
subject further on. A belt of saline incrustation, of more than half a
mile in breadth, runs through the middle of the valley, forming a line
of demarcation between the separate palm-groups and the continuous
grove.
On reaching this grove we soon caught sight of the famous village
Ugréfe, the residence of our camel-drivers, which was to them the grand
point of attraction, and in truth the only cause of our taking this
westerly route. It consisted of about thirty light and low dwellings
made of clay and palm-branches, and lay near an open space where we were
desired to encamp; but longing for shade, we went a little further on,
and encamped near two splendid ethel-trees (_Tamarix orientalis_), the
largest I ever saw before I reached Égeri. When the camels came up and
the tents were pitched, the encampment proved most agreeable.
[Illustration]
Early next morning I was again in motion, roving over the plantation,
and was very much pleased with its general character. The corn, which
was a fine crop, was just ripe and about to be harvested; and close to
our camping-ground two negro slaves were employed in cutting it, while
three or four negresses carried it away to the stores. The negroes were
powerful young fellows; the women were rather ugly, excepting one, who
had a very handsome figure, and by coquettish demeanour tried to make
herself more attractive. All of them accompanied their work with singing
and wanton movements, and gave distinct manifestations of the customs of
this district, which is notorious for the familiarity of its female
inhabitants with the large caravans of pilgrims who annually pass
through the Wadi on their way to or from Mekka. The fields are watered
from large holes or wells, which are sunk through layers of variegated
marl.
Being anxious to visit Old Jerma, and to convince myself of its identity
with the Garama of the Romans, I hired a miserable little donkey, and,
accompanied by the stupid young son of Sbaeda, set out on an exploring
expedition into the eastern part of the valley. Keeping in general along
the southern border of the plantation, and having on my right the
precipitous rocky cliff, of from 300 to 400 feet elevation, I went on
slowly till I reached the south-west corner of Jerma kadím, fortified
with a quadrangular tower built of clay, and exhibiting a very curious
arrangement in its interior. The whole circumference of the town, which
was deserted long ago, is about 5000 paces. Here, near the town, there
are no Roman ruins whatever, but the remains of several large and strong
towers built of clay are to be seen a little further on; and being
unable to make out the sepulchre described by Dr. Oudney[54], I was
obliged to go to Tawásh, the village inhabited by the Merabetín. It is
divided into three distinct parts, a Tarki village, consisting of huts
of palm-branches, an outer suburb of scattered dwellings built of clay,
and a small quadrangular place of very regular shape, surrounded by
earthen walls, and furnished with two gates, one on the east, and the
other on the west side, and regular streets crossing at right angles.
Having here obtained a guide from Háj Mohammed Sʿaídi, a wealthy man and
the owner of almost all our camels, I started for the Roman monument,
situated in a wide opening of the southern recess. I found it in
tolerably good preservation, and without delay made a sketch of it, as
it seemed to me to be an object of special interest as the southernmost
relic of the Roman dominion. It is a remarkable fact, that several years
before the beginning of our era the Romans should have penetrated as far
as this place; and that their dominion here was not of a merely
transitory nature, this monument seems clearly to show. It is only one
story high, and seems never to have been loftier. This is evidently
characteristic of the age in which it was built; and I am persuaded that
it is not later than the time of Augustus. Those high steeple-tombs
which I have described above, seem not to have come into fashion before
the middle of the 2nd century after Christ.[55] The base measures 7 ft.
9½ in. on the west and east sides, and at least 7 ft. 4 in. on the other
two sides, including a spacious sepulchral chamber or burial-room; but
while the base forms almost a quadrangle, the sides of the principal
structure are of very different dimensions, measuring not more than 5
ft. 8½ in. on the north and south, and 7 ft. on the west and east sides.
It is adorned with pilasters of the Corinthian order. The whole monument
is covered with Tefínagh or Berber writing, which was not only
intelligible to me, but also to our young camel-driver ʿAli Karámra,
whose family lives in this part of the wadi, in a homely little dwelling
of palm-leaves. However, as the writing was very careless, and my time
was fully taken up with sketching the more important subjects, I did not
copy the inscriptions, which indeed are only names; but of course even
names might contribute something towards elucidating the history of the
country.
[Illustration]
By a direct path I returned from this place to our encampment, and felt
rather fatigued, having been in motion during all the heat of the day.
The south wind still increased in the evening; and we could distinctly
see that it was raining towards the longed-for region whither we were
going, while we had nothing from it but clouds of sand. Overweg,
meanwhile, had ascended in the morning the highest cliff of the
sandstone rocks forming the southern border of the valley, and had found
it to be 1605 feet high, or 413 feet above the ground at our encampment.
[Sidenote: Friday, May 3rd.]
Having heard, the day before, in the village of the Merabetín, that Háj
Mohammed, the owner of our camels, ordered the boy who was with me to
tell Sbaeda, his father, that they should not start before this evening,
I was not surprised at our camel-drivers not bringing the camels in the
morning. It was almost four o’clock in the afternoon when Overweg and I
at length pushed on, entering the extensive grove of New Jerma,—a
miserable place, which being entirely shut in by the palm-grove, is
almost deserted. The grove, however, exhibited a very interesting
aspect, all the trees being furnished with a thick cluster of palm-bush
at their roots, while the old dry leaves were left hanging down
underneath the young fresh crown, and even lower down the stem, not
being cut off so short as is customary near the coast. But picturesque
as the state of the trees was, it did not argue much in favour of the
industry of the inhabitants; for it is well-known to Eastern travellers
that the palm-tree is most picturesque in its wildest state. Beyond the
town the grove becomes thinner, and the ethel-tree predominates over the
palm-tree; but there is much palm-bush.
We entered another grove, which stretches far northward into the valley,
its produce being, according to our camel-drivers, entirely reserved for
the poor. Having passed Tawásh, with its little grove, we entered the
fine plantation of Brék, enlivened by the bleating of sheep and goats.
Here, in the small fields where corn is cultivated, the ground is
thickly incrusted with salt and soda. We at length encamped near the
grove of Tewíwa, close to the village of the same name, and to the north
side of the Merábet Sidi e’ Salám.
The next morning, while the camels were loading, I visited the interior
of the village. The walls have given way in several places, and the
whole made the impression of a half-deserted place; but the little
kasbah, which is never wanting in any of these towns, was in tolerable
condition. One of the inhabitants, on being asked why the village was so
much decayed, told me that a torrent had destroyed a great portion of it
nine years ago, in consequence of which the greater part of its
population had dispersed abroad, only about twenty families now
remaining. But this is the condition of nearly all the places in Fezzán;
and it can be partially accounted for only by supposing that many of the
male inhabitants go off to Negroland, to avoid being made soldiers. A
very extensive grove belongs to Tewíwa; but the plain between the
village and the rocks is rather open, only a few patches of corn-field
being scattered thereabouts. Three vast and detached buttresses, which
jut out from the cliffs into the plain, give a very picturesque
appearance to the groves and villages which we passed on our route.
We were just proceeding in the best manner, when a halt was ordered,
from very insufficient reasons, a little south from the village
Tekertíba, where we were to pass the heat. Meanwhile I ascended a ridge
of rocks which, a little further down, crossed the valley from the
southern border. The ridge was a narrow, steep, wall-like cliff, which
afforded a very interesting view of the end, or rather beginning, of the
fertile Wadi, which was close at hand.
From the highest point of the ridge I descended northwards, crossing a
small defile, which is formed between the two rocky buttresses to the
north and south, the latter being the more considerable. Along it runs a
path, connecting the two valleys. Here I obtained a view of the fresh
green valley on the one side, and the destructive sand-hills on the
other, and directed my steps to the plantation, where young people were
busily engaged in drawing water from the large pond-like wells. The
beams, by means of which the water is drawn up, require to be strongly
constructed, the whole of the khattár having a height of from sixty to
eighty feet. These draw-wells are always placed in pairs; and a couple
of miserable asses, partners in suffering, do all the work. The young
male labourers all wore straw-hats, and had an energetic appearance.
The northern border of the plantation is now menaced by the approach of
the sand-hills, which have already overwhelmed the last range of palm-
trees. There is a curious tradition in Tekertíba, that from the highest
peak of the cliffs bordering the valley on the south side, a rivulet or
brook, issuing from a spring, runs down into the valley underground.
There were, it is related, originally several canals or stream-works
leading down to this subterranean aqueduct; but they have been all
filled up. The village itself, on the south border of the plantation, is
tolerably large, but is inhabited by only forty families at the utmost,
though it is the most populous place in the valley next to Ubári.
By the exertion of much energy, I at length succeeded in the afternoon
in getting our little caravan again under way; and we left the Great
Wadi through the defile, which appears to have been once defended by
walls, and, having crossed some irregular depressed plains, encamped at
seven o’clock in the evening in a wadi with a moderate supply of
herbage. Starting on the following morning, at an early hour, we soon
emerged into a more open level, beautifully adorned with fine talha-
trees, and having with difficulty dragged on our camel-drivers, who
shortly afterwards wanted to encamp in Wadi Resán, we entered a dreary
wilderness, from which we did not emerge till we arrived at the
plantation of Aghár, where we encamped.
[Sidenote: Monday, May 6th.]
All the people were eager to reach to-day the first great station of our
journey; but owing to the straying of some of the camels, we were unable
to start quite as early as we wished. The country in general was very
sterile, presenting only a few small date-groves, which we passed at
greater or less distance, and at length, when we reached the plantation
of Murzuk itself, we were far from finding in it that picturesque and
refreshing character which we had admired in the palm-groves of the
Wadi. These had formed a dense beautiful shade and fine groups; while
the plantation of Múrzuk was scattered about in thin growth, so that it
was scarcely possible to determine exactly where it began or where it
ended. Thus we reached the wall of the town, built of a sort of clay
glittering with saline incrustations; and going round the whole western
and northern sides, which have no gate wide enough for a caravan, we
halted on the eastern side of the town, not far from the camp of the
pilgrims who were returning from Egypt to Marocco and Tawát, till Mr.
Gagliuffi came out of the town, and brought us in. Mr. Richardson had
arrived about an hour before us. I was lodged in a cool and airy room on
the N.E. corner of Mr. Gagliuffi’s house, which had within the court a
very pleasant half-covered hall. Mr. Gagliuffi treated us with all
possible hospitality, and did all in his power to render our stay in the
town agreeable.
[Footnote 53: So the name is generally pronounced, the correct form
being Shiyáti, “the rent.”]
[Footnote 54: Excursion to the Westward of Mourzuk, p. xlvii., Denham
and Clapperton.]
[Footnote 55: Lucius Balbus Gaditanus, the conqueror of Cydamus
(Ghadámes) as well as of Garama (Jerma), celebrated his triumph in the
year 18 B.C. or A.U. 735. (Plin. N. H. l. v. c. 5.; Velleius Patercul.
ii. 51.; Strabo, iii. 169.; Marmor Capitolin.) The names and pictures of
the other nations and towns, which Balbus carried in his triumph
(Plinius, l.c.), were evidently a mere show, comprising, most probably,
all the information which he had been able to obtain of the interior.]
CHAP. VII.
RESIDENCE IN MURZUK.
Unfortunately our stay in Múrzuk seemed likely to become a very long
one, as the chiefs from Ghát, who were to take us under their
protection, were not yet sent for; the courier with our letters, to
which was added a missive from the acting governor, promising perfect
security to the chiefs, did not set out till the 8th of May. No doubt,
in order to visit Aïr, a country never before trodden by European foot,
with any degree of safety, we wanted some powerful protection; but it
was very questionable whether any of the chiefs of Ghát could afford us
such, while the sending for them expressly to come to Múrzuk to fetch us
would, of course, raise their pretensions very high, and in the same
degree those of other chiefs whose territory we should enter hereafter.
Be this as it may, this mode of procedure having been once adopted, the
question arose, whether all three of us should proceed to Ghát; and it
was decided, the very next day after our arrival, that the director of
the expedition alone (Mr. Richardson) should touch at that place, in
order to make, if possible, a treaty with the chiefs in that quarter,
while Mr. Overweg and I were to proceed with the caravan by the southern
route directly to the well Arikím, and there to await Mr. Richardson.
Providentially, a man had been sent to act as mediator between us and
the countries to which we were about to direct our steps. He had been
recommended to us in the very strongest terms by Hassan Bashá, the
former governor of Fezzán, whom we had frequently seen in Tripoli, and
who knew something about the men of influence and authority in
Negroland. This man was Mohammed Bóro, who, with the title Serki-n-
turáwa, “Lord of the Whites,” resided generally in Ágades, but had also
a house and many connections in Sókoto, and at present was on his home-
journey from a pilgrimage to Mekka. It was a great pity that Mr.
Gagliuffi, H.M.’s agent and our host, influenced I know not by whom,
greatly underrated the importance of this man, and treated him with very
little consideration. He was represented to us as an intriguer who,
besides, arrogated to himself much more consequence than he was really
entitled to—a man, in short, whose friendship was scarcely worth
cultivating, at least not at any sacrifice.
Mohammed Bóro called upon us on the 8th of May at Gagliuffi’s house. He
was an elderly, respectable-looking man, wearing a green bernús over
white under-clothes. He could speak but little Arabic, but received Mr.
Gagliuffi’s empty and rather ironical assurances, that the whole welfare
and success of the expedition were placed in his (Mohammed Bóro’s)
hands, with a continual strain of “el hamdu lilláhi”s. In his company
were his eldest son and another man of Asben. He afterwards sent us some
gúro, or kola-nuts, of which he seemed to have a great stock, and which
he also sold in the market. Gagliuffi sent him, as an acknowledgment, a
very lean sheep, which, with a small loaf of sugar, was all he got from
us in Múrzuk. Instead of gaining his friendship, this treatment served
only to irritate him, and was productive of some very bad consequences
for us. This interesting person will appear in his true character and
importance in the course of this narrative.
The appearance of Múrzuk is rather picturesque; but its extreme aridity
is felt at once; and this feeling grows stronger on a prolonged
residence.[56] Even in the plantation which surrounds it there are only
a few favoured spots where, under the protection of a deeper shade of
the date-trees, a few fruit-trees can be cultivated, such as
pomegranates, figs, and peaches. Culinary vegetables, including onions,
are extremely scarce; milk, except a little from the goats, is of course
quite out of the question.
The town lies in a flat hollow, “Hófrah,” which is the appropriate
native name of the district, but nevertheless at the considerable
elevation of 1495 ft., surrounded by ridges of sand; and in this hollow
lies scattered the plantation, without the least symmetry of arrangement
or mark of order. In some places it forms a long narrow strip extending
to a great distance, in others a detached grove, while on the south-east
side of the town the desert approaches close to the walls in a deep
inlet. Towards the east a little grove apart forms as it were an
advanced post. The densest and finest part of the grove is towards the
north, where also are the greatest number of gardens and fields in which
wheat, barley, gédheb (or rather kédheb), and a few vegetables, are
cultivated with much labour. In the same quarter also the greatest
number of cottages are to be found, including huts (large and small)
made of palm-branches,—the former consisting of several apartments and a
small courtyard, the latter having generally only one room of very
narrow dimensions.
In the midst of this plantation lies Múrzuk. It is situated so as not to
face the cardinal points, but with a deviation from them of thirty
degrees, the north side running N. 30° E., S. 30° W., and so on: it is
less than two miles in circumference. The walls, built of clay, with
round and pointed bastions, but partly in bad repair, have two gates,
the largest on the east, and the other on the west side. There is only a
very small gate on the north side, and there is none towards the south.
This quarter of the town has been greatly contracted by ʿAbd el Jelíl,
as the remains of the old wall of the time of Mukni clearly show; but
the town is still much too large for its scanty population, which is
said now to amount to 2800, and the greatest part of it, especially in
the quarters most distant from the bazar, is thinly inhabited and half
in ruins. The characteristic feature of the town, which shows that it
has more points of relation with Negroland than with the lands of the
Arabs, is the spacious road or “dendal” stretching out from the eastern
gate as far as the castle, and making the principal part of the town
more airy, but also infinitely more exposed to the heat.
The bazar, of course, is the most frequented part of the town. It lies
nearly half-way between the east and west gates, but a little nearer to
the former, and affords, with its halls of palm-stems, a very
comfortable place for the sellers and buyers. The watch-house at the
east end of the bazar, and almost opposite Mr. Gagliuffi’s house (from
the terrace of which the accompanying view was taken), is ornamented
with a portico of six columns, which adds to the neat appearance of this
quarter of the town. The kásbah is the same as in Captain Lyon’s time,
with its immense walls and small apartments; but the outer court has
been much improved by the building of a barrack or kishlah, which now
forms its northern portion. It is a large quadrangular building, with a
spacious esplanade in the interior, around which are arranged the
principal apartments. The building is said to be capable of containing
2000 men, though at present there are but 400 in the garrison, who are
well lodged and fed.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
MÚRZUK.
May 1850.]
The accompanying sketch of a ground-plan will give a tolerably exact
idea of the whole character of the town.
[Illustration:
1. Custom-house.
2. Guard-house.
3. Watch-house.
4. Mr. Gagliuffi’s house.
5. Garden.
6. House of the agent of Bórnu.
7. Mosque.
8. First courtyard of kásbah.
9. Kishla.
10. Staircase leading to the upper apartments.]
With regard to commerce, the condition of Múrzuk is very different from
that of Ghadámes. The latter is the residence of wealthy merchants, who
embark all their capital in commercial enterprises, and bring home their
own merchandise. But Múrzuk is rather the thoroughfare than the seat of
a considerable commerce, the whole annual value of imports and exports
amounting, in a round sum, to 100,000 Spanish dollars; and the place,
therefore, is usually in great want of money, the foreign merchants,
when they have sold their merchandise, carrying away its price in
specie,—the Mejábera to Jálo, the Tébu to Bílma and Bórnu, the people of
Tawát and Ghadámes to their respective homes. Few of the principal
merchants of Múrzuk are natives of the place. The western or Sudán route
is more favourable to commerce than the route to Bórnu. On the latter
the Tawárek are always ready to furnish any number of camels to carry
merchandise, and to guarantee their safety, while the road to Bórnu,
which is the nearest for Múrzuk, is in such a precarious state, that the
merchant who selects it must convey his merchandise on his own camels
and at his own risk. As for the routes through Fezzán, the Hotmán, the
Zwáya, and the Megésha are the general carriers of the merchandise;
while, on the route to Sudán, the conveyance at present is wholly in the
hands of the Tinýlkum.
As soon as Gagliuffi learned distinctly the plan of our expedition, he
made an agreement with these people to take our things as far as
Selúfiet; and they were anxious to be off. After much procrastination,
they fixed upon the 6th of June for taking away the merchandise with
which we had been provided here. We were to follow on the 12th; but the
luggage not being ready at an early hour, our final departure was fixed
for the 13th.
[Footnote 56: I will here only remark, that the degree of heat observed
here by Captain Lyon, which has astonished and perplexed all scientific
men, is not the real state of the atmosphere, but evidently depended
upon the peculiar character of the locality where that enterprising and
meritorious traveller had placed his thermometer.]
[Illustration: DR. BARTH’S TRAVELS IN NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA Sheet No.
4.
MAP OF THE ROUTE FROM MÚRZUK TO WÁDÍ FALÉSSELEZ 13. June to 5. August
1850.
Constructed and drawn by A. Petermann.
Engraved by E. Weller, _Duke Strt. Bloomsbury._
_London, Longman & Co._]
CHAP. VIII.
THE DESERT. — TASÁWA. — EXACTIONS OF THE ESCORT. — DELAY AT ELÁWEN.
[Sidenote: Thursday, June 13th.]
Accompanied by Mr. Gagliuffi, the Greek doctor, and the Bin-básha, we
left Múrzuk by the western gate. My parting from Mr. Gagliuffi was
cordial. He had received us and treated us hospitably, and had shown
an earnest desire to further our proceedings, and to secure if possible
the success of our expedition; and, if in his commercial transactions
with the mission he did not neglect his own advantage, we could not
complain, though it would have been infinitely better for us if we had
been provided with a more useful sort of merchandise.
In leaving the town we kept, in general, along the same path by which we
had first entered it, and encamped during the hot hours of the day in
the scanty shade afforded by the trees of Zerghán, the well close by
affording us delicious draughts of cool water, not at all of that
brackish insipid taste which is common to the water of Fezzán. We had
started in the belief that we should find our luggage in Óm el hammám;
but in this place we learned from the poor ragged people who come
occasionally hither to take care of the trees, that it was gone on to
Tigger-urtín. Not knowing, however, the road to the latter place, we
took the path to Óm el hammám, and encamped about seven o’clock in the
afternoon a little north of it.
Óm el hammám is a half-decayed and deserted village, built of clay,
which is strongly incrusted with salt, the inhabitants at present living
entirely in huts made of palm-branches. The plantation being intermixed
with a large number of ethel-trees (_Tamarix orientalis_), and
interspersed with gardens, exhibited a more varied aspect than is
generally the case with these groves; and having pitched our tent near a
large ethel-bush, we felt very comfortable, especially as we had the
good luck to obtain a few eggs, which, fried with plenty of onions, made
a very palatable supper.
Next morning we directed our course to Tigger-urtín, making almost a
right angle towards the north, and crossing a desolate plain incrusted
with salt, after we had left the fine plantation of Óm el hammám. Having
reached the village of our camel-drivers, which consists entirely of
huts of palm-branches, we looked long in vain for a tolerable camping-
ground, as the strong wind filled the whole air with sand. At length we
pitched our tents a few paces south from the well. It was an extremely
sultry and oppressive day, and the wind anything but refreshing.
In the afternoon we went to pay our compliments to Mohammed Bóro, who
had left Múrzuk several days before us. He informed us that he had
consumed all his provisions, and that he would have left to-day for
Tasáwa, in order to replenish his stores, if he had not seen us coming.
We consoled him with the intimation that we hoped our whole party would
be soon ready for starting, and sent him a quantity of dates and corn.
The next day I went roving through the valley, which a little further to
the N.W. was much prettier, and had several fine clusters of palm-trees;
but the most picturesque object was the old village, built of clay, now
entirely in decay, but surrounded by a dense group of fine date-trees.
Subjoined is a sketch of it.
[Illustration]
At the south-west end of the grove also is a little village, likewise
deserted. Here I met a Felláta or Pullo slave, a full-grown man, who,
when a young lad, had been carried away from his native home, somewhere
about Kazaure, and since then had been moiling and toiling here in this
half-deserted valley, which had become his second home. He told me that
fever had driven away the old inhabitants of the village long ago, after
which the Tinýlkum seem to have taken entire possession of it, though it
is remarkable that its name seems rather to belong to the Berber
language, its original form being Tigger-odén (ŏdē means the valley),
which has been changed into the more general form Tigger-urtín. The
whole valley, which makes a turn towards the south-west, is full of
ethel-bush, and affords shelter to a number of doves. Groups of palm-
trees are scattered about.
[Sidenote: June 16th.]
In the morning I took a walk round the village of the Tinýlkum, which
exhibited some lively and interesting scenes. All the men were saying
their prayers together upon a sand-hill on the north side of the
principal cluster of cottages, while the women were busy in getting
ready the provisions for the long journey about to be undertaken by
their husbands, and the children were playing among them. About fifty or
sixty huts were lying hereabouts, most of them formed into groups;
others more detached. Some of them had pointed roofs, while others were
flat-roofed; but all of them had a neat and orderly appearance. Besides
camels, which constitute their principal wealth, as by means of them
they are enabled to undertake those long annual journeys to Sudán, they
possess a good many sheep. Two of our camel-drivers, Ibrahím and Slimán,
whom I shall have occasion to mention repeatedly, together with their
mother and sister, were in possession of a flock of about 200 head,
which they were sending to the fine pasture-grounds of Terhén in Wadi
Berjúsh. Besides the latter valley, the Tinýlkum also use the valley
Táderart as their chief pasture-grounds.
On the E.N.E. side of the village rose a hill about 100 feet high, and
affording a fine view over the valley-plain. From its highest summit,
where a niche for prayers has been laid out with stones on the ground,
it stretches from east to west, and forms a kind of separation in the
flat valley, limiting the ethel-tree to its western part, all the sand-
hills in the eastern prolongation being covered with palm-bushes, which,
from a distance, have the appearance of a thick grove. Descending from
this hill northwards, I came to the handsomely-decorated sepulchre of
Háj Sálemi, the brother of the sheikh, who resides in Múrzuk, and
further on met a party of Tinýlkum _en route_ for the wadi, where
numbers of them are residing. Another division dwells about Sebhha; but
the whole body of the tribe comprises from 350 to 400 families, which
are united by the closest bonds, and act as one body—“like meal” (to use
their own expression) “falling through the numerous holes of a sieve
into one pot.” About noon arrived the pilgrim-caravan of the Tawáti,
which had been long encamped near Múrzuk, on their way home; it had been
this year only 114 persons strong, with 70 muskets, while sometimes it
musters as many as 500 persons. Their chief, or sheikh el rákeb, was an
intelligent person of the name of ʿAbd el Káder, a native of Timímun,
who had been leader of the caravan several times. They encamped at no
great distance from us on the open ground.
Being obliged to buy another camel for myself (in order to be able to
mount our servant Mohammed el Túnsi on a camel of our own, the Tinýlkum
being very particular about their beasts, and not liking to see a man
often mounting them), I bought, in the afternoon, a fine tall méheri
from Háj Mohammed, for 69 Fezzán riyals or 55 Spanish dollars.
[Sidenote: June 17th.]
I made a longer excursion along the eastern part of the wadi, which
here, where it is lower and collects more humidity, is adorned with some
beautiful wild groups of palm-trees left quite to themselves; the valley
extends towards Wadi Ghodwa, which it joins. Keeping on in that
direction, I came to a poor hamlet called Márhhaba inhabited by a few
families, who bitterly complained of their poverty. Here was formerly a
village built of clay, and a large spacious castle about sixty-five
paces square. All is now deserted; and only a small part of the
available ground is under culture, forming about six or seven small
fields. The same picture is met with all over Fezzán, where the only
places exhibiting to the eye some degree of life and prosperity are
Sokna and Murzuk. The population of this wide expanse of country falls
short of even sixty thousand souls.
The heat of the day had already set in, when I returned to the tents,
where I was extremely rejoiced to see the different members of our
caravan collecting at last, so as to afford a fair prospect of our soon
setting out for unknown and more interesting regions. There had arrived
Mohammed el Sfaksi, a man with whom Mr. Gagliuffi had entered into a
sort of partnership for a commercial journey to Negroland, and whom he
had supplied with a tolerable amount of merchandise; and in the
afternoon came the boat. The following day Yusuf Mukni, Mr. Richardson’s
interpreter, came with the rest of the luggage, so that gradually
everything fell into its right place, and nothing was now wanting but
the Tawárek chiefs to set our whole body in regular motion. We therefore
procured a load of dates from Aghár, and, getting everything ready,
roused our spirits for the contemplation of novelties and the
encountering of difficulties; for the latter could certainly not be
wanting where the former were at hand.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, June 19th.]
While the greater part of the caravan took the direct road to the well
Sháraba, Mr. Overweg and I, with the remainder, chose the road to
Tessáwa, or, rather more accurately, Tasáwa; but though our party formed
but a small body of people, yet it presented a very animated spectacle.
The lazy Arab mode of letting the camels go singly, as they like,
straggling about right and left, strains and fatigues the traveller’s
attention; but his mind is stimulated and nerved to the contemplation of
great distances to be traversed when he sees a long line of camels
attached one to the other, and led by a man at a steady pace without any
halt or interruption. As for myself, riding my own méheri, I was quite
at liberty to go before or fall behind, just as the circumstances of the
road called for observation, or presented something worthy of attention.
Having passed some tolerably-deep sand-hills accumulated in the wadi, we
obtained a sight of an advanced spur of the plantation of Aghár to our
left, when the ground became firm, and the country more open. Then,
keeping along the southern border of the principal plantation, we passed
the village and our former camping-ground, and having left further on
some deserted villages and a few scattered huts of palm-leaves, still
inhabited, a little on one side, about noon we again entered a sandy
region with a few detached palm-groups. Here I observed a specimen of a
very rare sort of bifurcated or divided palm-tree (not the dúm, which is
generally so) with two distinct tufts hanging down on the opposite
sides: this is the only specimen I ever saw. We then passed the village
of Tasáwa[57], which, with its clay walls and towers, looks much more
considerable from afar than it appears when viewed from among the
deserted houses within it; still it is one of the more wealthy and
important places of the country. A little beyond it we encamped on the
open sandy ground, when, as our small tent had by mistake gone on in
advance, and our large tent was too bulky to be pitched for one night’s
rest, we contrived a very tolerable airy shade with our carpets.
We had scarcely made ourselves comfortable, when we received the joyful
news that Hatíta, with two sons of Sháfo, had just arrived from Ghát,
and were about to call on us. Their arrival of course had now become a
matter of the utmost importance, as Mr. Richardson had made his mind up
not to start without them, though it might have been clear, to every one
well acquainted with the state of things in the interior, that their
protection could not be the least guarantee for our favourable reception
and success in the country of Aïr or Asben, inhabited and governed by an
entirely distinct tribe. And, on the other hand, the arrival of these
chiefs made our relation to Mohammed Bóro extremely disagreeable, for,
after waiting so long for us, he now clearly saw that Mr. Gagliuffi, in
declaring that we relied entirely on him for our success, while we were
in fact placing ourselves wholly at the disposal of the chiefs of Ghát,
was only trifling with him. He therefore flew into a violent passion,
threatening openly before the people that he would take care that we
should be attacked on the road by his countrymen; and these were not
empty threats.
After a hot day followed a very fine evening, with a beautifully-clear
moonlight; and cherishing the fervent hope that, with the assistance of
the Almighty, I should succeed in my dangerous undertaking, I lay down
in the open encampment, and listened with hearty sympathy to the fervent
prayers of the Tinýlkum, which in melodious cadence, and accompanied
with the sound há, há, sometimes in a voice of thunder, at others in a
melancholy unearthly plaint, were well adapted to make a deep impression
upon the mind, the tall palm-trees forming majestic groups, and giving a
fanciful character to the landscape in the calm moonlight.
It is a remarkable fact that, while the Mohammedan religion in general
is manifestly sinking to corruption along the coast, there are ascetic
sects rising up in the interior which unite its last zealous followers
by a religious band. The particular sect to which belong the Tinýlkum,
who in general are Máleki, has been founded by Mohammed el Médani, who
established a sort of convent or oratory (zawíya) near Masráta, and
endowed it with a certain extent of landed property, from the produce of
which he fed many pilgrims. The best feature of this creed is the
abolition of the veneration of dead saints, which has sullied in so high
a degree the purity of Islám. Mohammed el Médani is said to have died a
short time ago; but his son continues the pious establishment.[58] It is
a sort of freemasonry, and promises to make a great many proselytes. I
am not one of those who think it a sign of progress when Mohammedans
become indifferent to the precepts of their religion, and learn to
indulge in drinking and such things; for I have not given up my belief
that there is a vital principle in Islám, which has only to be brought
out by a reformer, in order to accomplish great things.
In Tasáwa also reside a few Tinýlkum, who, however, have been intimately
intermixed with the Arabs, while the others in general keep their blood
pure, and do not intermarry with the people of Fezzán.
Having assured ourselves that, owing to the arrival of the Tawárek
chiefs, we should have to make some stay here, we determined to pitch
our large tent early the next morning, while the chiefs had a long
dispute with Mohammed e’ Sfaksi, the subject of which I must relate, as
it throws some light on the history and the present state of this
country. The northern Tawárek, when they occupied the country round
Ghát, established a sort of tribute, or gheráma, to be paid by merchants
passing through their territory, and on payment of which the trader
should be no further molested, but enjoy full protection. At that time
the Masráta—a section of a very powerful Berber tribe—had made, as we
shall see, a colonial settlement in Ágades, and, owing to their great
power, commercial activity, and near connection with the Tawárek, were
considered wholly exempt from any tribute, while the inhabitants of
Tunis, who seem to have excited the jealousy or hostility of the great
lords of the desert, were subjected to the highest personal exaction,
viz. ten dollars a head. Now Gagliuffi’s partner was a native of Sfákes;
but having long resided in Masráta, he insisted upon being free from
tribute, like the inhabitants of the latter place: but our friends were
not to be cheated out of their right, and made him pay as a Tunisian.
Having settled this little business, they came to us. There were Hatíta
Inek (the son of) Khóden of the Manghásatangh, Utaeti (the eldest son of
Sháfo), a younger son of the latter, and several more. The first, who
had enjoyed the friendship of Captain Lyon, behaved throughout like a
man well acquainted with Europeans; but Utaeti conducted himself like a
strict Tarki, neither showing his face, nor speaking a single word.
Hatíta expressed the wish that we should not proceed until he returned
from Murzuk, where he assured us he would remain but a very short time;
and we engaged to do our best to keep back the camel-drivers, who were
but little inclined to stay here long.
In consequence of this state of things, I determined to return to the
town, in order to ascertain the terms entered into between the parties;
and accordingly, starting at five in the evening, and resting a few
hours after midnight in Zerghán, I reached Murzuk on Friday morning at
seven o’clock. I found that Mr. Gagliuffi had been very ill during the
hot weather of the last few days; but to-day he was fortunately a little
better.
Having waited in vain for the chiefs the whole of Saturday, we received
a visit from them on Sunday, when they appeared in the finery with which
they had been dressed by Mustapha Bey, but would not come to any terms;
and it was not till Monday, when they took up their residence in the
house belonging formerly to Mukni, but now to the Wakíl of Borno, that
they concluded an arrangement. The sum which they then received would
have been moderate, had they undertaken to see us safe under the
protection of Annur, the Chief of the Kél-owí. I urged, with Mr.
Gagliuffi, the necessity of having a written copy of the agreement; but
to this the chief would not listen, and thus confessed that there was
really no distinct contract, as we had been given to understand, to the
effect that Utaeti should not leave us till he had committed us to the
care of the chief Annur.
This business being concluded, I was in great haste to return to Tasáwa;
and starting immediately afterwards, at one o’clock in the afternoon,
arrived at our tent a little before midnight. Our tent, indeed, was
still there; but all the Tinýlkum (Músa alone excepted), and all our
things, were gone on, and Overweg and I were obliged to follow the next
day without waiting for Mr. Richardson.
Accordingly, on the 25th of June we left Tasáwa, and after having
crossed some sand-hills, entered upon harder soil, with ethel-bushes
crowning the little hills,—the whole scene making the impression that a
considerable current of water had at one period flowed along here and
carried away the soil, which had once extended to the top of the hills.
The whole district, which is a narrow and very long strip of land,
affording a little herbage for cattle and sheep, bears the name of Wadi
Aberjúsh, or Berjúsh, and soon exhibits a more pleasant character; the
encircling borders increase a little in height, while the sand ceases
and a great deal of herbage begins to cover the soil. But after about
another hour’s march, we entered upon pebbly ground like that of the
Hammáda, and continued descending through a bare country till we reached
the well Sháraba, where we encamped a little to the north, near a talha-
bush. It is an open well, only three feet below the surface of the
ground, which here forms a very remarkable hollow, almost six hundred
feet below the level of Murzuk, but nevertheless contains water only for
two or three months in the year. It is, however, evident that in case of
heavy rains a large pond or lake must be temporarily formed here by the
torrent, which, sweeping along Wadi Berjúsh, finds no outlet.
Towards evening the locality was enlivened for a short time by a small
slave-caravan, led by Mohammed Trumba or ʿAkerút, an active, energetic
man, whom I met several times in the course of my travels, and incurred
some obligation towards him, as it was he who, on my setting out from
Zinder to Timbúktu in the beginning of 1853, brought me a supply of one
thousand dollars, without which I could scarcely have succeeded in my
undertaking. He had come in only sixty-five days from Zinder, and
thirty-three from Asben, having been obliged to pursue his journey as
fast as possible, because, owing to the expedition of the Kél-owí
against the Welád Slimán, provisions were very scarce in Asben. He
estimated the number of fighting men who had gone on that expedition at
seven thousand, and stated that the Tawárek were acting in concert with
the Dáza, a tribe of Tébu, whose real name is Búlgudá. He stated that E’
Núr (or Annur, as the name is pronounced), the chief of the Kél-owí, was
at present in Tasáwa (that is to say, the town of that name on the
borders of Negroland), but would soon return to Asben. He confirmed the
report of plenty of rain having fallen in the desert, in consequence of
which the wells were full; but he begged me to beware of the cold during
the nights, which he represented as very intense. He had twenty-three
female slaves with him and only five camels, and hastened on to Tasáwa,
in order to obtain dates for his famished people.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, June 26th.]
Owing to the camels having strayed, it was very late when we left our
encampment, and entered a sort of flat valley, from which we ascended to
a higher level. From this we obtained a distant glance, towards the
W.S.W., of the ruins of a fortress called Kasr Sháraba, the history of
which, as it is connected with the struggles of yore between the Tébu
and the inhabitants of Fezzán, would be full of interest, if it could be
made out distinctly. Towards noon the country wore a more genial aspect,
being adorned with several groups of palm-trees. We had to go round a
rather steep hill, about 350 feet high, from the summit of which I
obtained an interesting view over the desert. The whole country
presented a very irregular structure, and scarcely allowed the
continuous line of the Wadi Berjúsh to be traced by the eye, hills of
considerable height and black pebbly tracts succeeding each other. Over
such a desert we continued our march until, late in the afternoon, we
reached a spot where the sight of a true wadi, full of herbage and
bordered by a strip of talha-trees, gladdened our hearts, and we
encamped. It was a pleasant open ground; and the night being cool and
refreshing, we felt very much invigorated when we rose the next morning
to continue our march.
The talha-trees continued; but the herbage was principally limited to
resú, an herb which has a very strong taste, and is not relished by
camels for any length of time. The green strip took an irregular,
winding course, sometimes approaching the sand-hills which we had always
on our left at a certain distance, sometimes keeping more to our right;
and Músa, our grave but cheerful camel-driver, dwelt in terms of the
highest praise on the great superiority of this wadi, which he said is
joined by as many as a hundred smaller branches. It evidently forms the
natural highroad between Fezzán and the western desert, and about a
month ago must have exhibited a more varied aspect, enlivened as it then
was by a considerable torrent sweeping along it. In the afternoon we saw
several spots where the eddying stream had formed itself a bed about
five feet deep, and had turned up the ground all around; the crust of
mire which covered the bed of the torrent had not yet dried. We encamped
on a pleasant spot called Hamáwa, without pitching our tent, so
delighted were we to enjoy the fresh air of the desert. Here we were
joined by a man from Tasáwa, who wanted to seize a debtor, who had
attached himself to Bóro’s party in order to make his escape into
Sudán—a practice very common with the people of Fezzán.
By repeated measuring with our chain, we had found that, on tolerably
even ground, our ordinary rate as the Tawárek travel was half an English
geographical mile in thirteen minutes. It is the general custom of these
people, who do not allow their camels to feed on the march, to leave
them the whole night on the pasture, and not to fetch them till morning,
for which reason they never start very early, and often at a rather late
hour.
[Sidenote: Friday, June 28th.]
About an hour after we had begun our march along the line of green
herbage, we came to a temporary well called Ahitsa[59], containing very
fine rain-water, but only for a period of about two months in the year.
Having filled two of our water-skins, we continued our march, and soon,
to our great joy, got sight of two white tents belonging the one to
Mohammed Bóro, the other to Mohammed e’ Sfaksi, and pointing out to us
the encampment of the caravan. It had been pitched on open ground, in
the midst of the strip of green herbage, and surrounded with a rich
border of talha-trees. The place offered good pasture for the camels;
and a small encampment of other Tinýlkum not belonging to our caravan,
but merely pasturing their camels and goats here, had been formed near
the trees. The whole presented an animated picture. Our camel-drivers
are said to possess, in the sand-hills bordering this valley on the
south side, considerable stores of dates and corn, and to have taken
from thence their supplies for the road. The whole character of this
landscape appeared to me so peculiar that, the following morning before
we started, I made a sketch of it from the elevated stony ground to the
north of the channel, which here exhibited evident traces of a small
waterfall formed by the heavy rains. Stones had been laid here in the
form of a circle, as a place of prayer. The whole valley was about four
miles broad; the locality is called Tesémmak.
[Illustration]
When we started next morning, we formed a tolerably large party, with
sixty-two camels, which were arranged in four strings, one of which
consisted of thirty-three animals, each fastened to the tail of the
preceding one. The valley was enlivened by a small herd of gazelles,
which Overweg and I tried for a moment to pursue. Having passed a well
called Tafiyúk, at a place where the sand-hills jut out into the valley,
we encamped about half an hour beyond, near another well containing
rain-water for a short time of the year, and called Em-éneza. Two
branches of the wadi unite here; and distinct traces of the great force
of the last torrent remained in the broken condition of the ground.
Here we remained encamped for the two following days, in order to allow
Mr. Richardson and the Azkár chiefs to come up. I spent the time
sometimes writing and studying, at others roving about or musing while
seated on some elevated rocks at the border of the rising ground. Musa
was our constant visitor, and gave us all the information required,
though he was not very intelligent. There had been some small
differences between us and our camel-drivers, who, though in other
respects not uncouth or uncivil, had, from religious principles,
sometimes assumed a rather hostile position towards us. We now effected
a general reconciliation; and there was every reason to believe that we
should go on well with them.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, July 2nd.]
Being informed that our companions were near, we moved on a little, and
at length got out of the eternal Wadi Aberjúsh, with all its little
side-branches, which are divided from the main wadi by a gently-rising
ground covered with black pebbles. Then after a little we reached the
Wadi Eláwen, forming a broad depression running from the north, where it
is joined by several branch channels descending from the plateau towards
the sand-hills on the south, and encamped on its western side, between
tall sebót shooting up from the sandy ground, and near some fine talha-
trees. We soon discovered, to our great delight, that only two hundred
paces above our encampment the floods, descending from the higher ground
in two large branches, and carrying down with them bushes and brushwood
in abundance, had formed a pond at present about 100 feet long and 50
feet broad, which contributed greatly to enliven the district. All the
world was bathing and playing about the water; and flights of thirsty
birds, of the kinds _Numida_ and _Pterocles_, were hovering about,
watching a favourable moment to come in for their share. Everywhere in
the bottom of the valley there was water at a little depth; and we
obtained excellent potations from a well dug by our people close below
our tents.
About five o’clock in the afternoon we were at length joined by Mr.
Richardson and the chiefs of the Azkár; but the unsatisfactory way in
which the business had been concluded with these chiefs in Murzuk, led
to a break up sooner even than I had suspected. The next evening Hatíta
summoned us to a divan, and declared distinctly that he required a
month’s time to make the necessary preparations for the journey to Aïr.
Hence it would be necessary for us to separate from the caravan, and,
taking our luggage with us to Ghát, to hire or buy other camels there.
In reply to this unjust and absurd demand, we declared that we had no
other choice but to follow the direct Sudán road in the company of the
caravan, and that it was our firm intention at any rate not to lose more
than seven days in Ghát. Hatíta having left us rather dissatisfied at
our decision, our servants, who would gladly have idled away one or two
months in Ghát as they had done in Murzuk, insolently told us that we
were very much mistaken in thinking that the road to Aïr was in any
degree open to us, for it would first be necessary to send a courier to
ask the permission of the chiefs of that country to enter it, and we
must wait for the answer.
While remaining firm in our resolution, we of course consented to go to
Ghát, and tried at the same time to come to some final arrangement with
our camel-drivers, promising them a small allowance for every day they
should wait for us. They at length promised to spend ten days on the way
to Arikím, a well three days’ march south from Ghát, where they would
wait six days, and then go on directly to Aïr. Attacking the old chief,
therefore, on his weakest side, we sent him word the next morning, that,
as we had but little money with us, he would not succeed in getting
anything of value from us, if he should try to keep us in Ghát for any
length of time; and I insisted, with Yusuf Mukni, upon the dishonesty of
the chief’s conduct, in trying to make an entirely new bargain after he
had got all he demanded. His answer was satisfactory; and with the
fervent hope that we should not be baffled in our attempt to discover
new regions and new tribes of men, we left the further development of
the affair to time.
While these disputes were going on, I employed my leisure hours in
roving about our encampment, in different directions, up and down the
valley. The eastern of the two branches, which by their junction form
the valley, was peculiarly rich in herbage, and commanded by a hill
starting up from the plateau, which afforded a very interesting view
around, though this was almost surpassed by the prospect from a mound a
little to the W.S.W. of our tent. The lower part of the valley was more
diversified by numerous branches, which joined it on the S.E. side. One
of these, which was bordered by high ridges of sandstone, was evidently
a favourite play-ground of the gazelles, the fresh footmarks of which
chequered its sandy bottom like a net. Pursuing this direction, I
approached the sand-hills which form the southern border of this whole
district.
Fatigued by my long walk, I was the more able in the evening to do full
justice to our supper, which was diversified by a variety of birds that
had been shot in the course of the day near the pond.
[Footnote 57: This is evidently a Central African name, and appears to
belong to the original black population of Fezzán. But it seems to stand
in some sort of relationship to Asáwa, the name of one of the original
seats of the Aurághen.]
[Footnote 58: From what Major Burton says in his “Pilgrimage,” vol. ii.
p. 290., it would appear that Mohammed Ibn ʿAbdallah e’ Snúsi, which is
his full name, is still living.]
[Footnote 59: The commencing vowel-sound “a” is generally inaudible, at
least by a strange ear, if the word be not very distinctly spoken; but
nevertheless it is characteristic of these Tawárek names.]
CHAP. IX.
SINGULAR SCULPTURES IN THE DESERT. — THE MOUNTAIN-PASS.
[Sidenote: June 5th.]
We had to separate from the Tinýlkum, and from our luggage, without
having any certainty as to where and when we might overtake them. The
chiefs of Ghát, too, had started in advance. The country had been
rising all the way from Wadi Sháraba, which seems to form the lowest
point in this whole region; and we ascended to-day very considerably.
Pushing on in advance of our little troop, and passing a small caravan,
which was laden with provisions and merchandise belonging to the
pilgrim-caravan of the Tawáti, I soon came up with Hatíta and his
companions. They were civil and kind; but the old friend of the English,
who had an eye to a new marriage with some pretty Amóshagh girl some
forty or fifty years younger than himself, gave me sundry expressive
hints that I should spare him something of my outfit,—either a pair of
pistols, or a carpet, or a bernús, or any other little article. My
refusal in nowise rendered him uncivil. While he was riding by my side,
I took the opportunity of making a slight sketch of him,—his English
gun, the gift of some previous traveller, forming a striking contrast to
his large shield of antelope-hide, ornamented with a cross. Having
crossed another valley of some extent, we descended into Wadi Elghom-udé
(the Valley of the Camel), which, richly clothed with herbage, forms an
inlet in the stony plateau from north to south, and has a very cheerful
aspect. The encampment, spread over a great extent of ground, formed
quite an ethnographical museum, comprising as it did six distinct small
caravan-troops from different parts of Africa, and even of Europe.
[Illustration]
[Sidenote: Saturday, June 6th.]
A splendid morning, cool and fresh. We were happy to meet a small
caravan coming from Sudán, which brought us some important pieces of
news: first, that they had come to Ghát in the company of five men
belonging to the family of Ánnur (the chief of the Kél-owí), who, after
a short stay, would return to their country; and secondly, that the
expedition of the Kél-owí had returned from Kánem, after having totally
annihilated the Welád Slimán. They brought with them seventeen slaves,
among whom were fifteen females, one with a very engaging countenance.
After less than three miles’ march, our companions looked about in the
Wadi Telísaghé for a camping-ground. The valley proved of more than
ordinary interest. It was hemmed in by steep cliffs of rock, and adorned
with some fine talha-trees. With no great reluctance we followed the
Tawárek chiefs, who kept along its steep western border, and at length
chose the camping-ground at a spot where a western branch joins the
principal wadi. Scarcely had we pitched our tents, when we became aware
that the valley contained some remarkable sculptures deserving our
particular attention.
The spot where we had pitched our tents afforded a very favourable
locality for commemorating any interesting events; and the sandstone
blocks which studded it were covered with drawings representing various
subjects, more or less in a state of preservation. With no pretensions
to be regarded as finished sculptures, they are made with a firm and
steady hand, well accustomed to such work, and, being cut to a great
depth, bore a totally different character from what is generally met
with in these tracts.
The most interesting sculpture represented the following subject, the
description of which I am unfortunately able at present to accompany
with only an imperfect woodcut, as the drawing which I made of it on the
spot was forwarded by me to England to Mr. Birch, the celebrated
Egyptian archæologist, and seems to have been mislaid.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
TELISAGHE.
July 7th. 1850.]
The sculpture represents a group of three individuals of the following
character and arrangement:—
[Illustration]
To the left is seen a tall human figure, with the head of a peculiar
kind of bull, with long horns turned forward and broken at the point;
instead of the right arm he has a peculiar organ terminating like an
oar, while in the left hand he carries an arrow and a bow—at least such
is the appearance, though it might be mistaken for a shield: between his
legs a long tail is seen hanging down from his slender body. The posture
of this figure is bent forward, and all its movements are well
represented. Opposite to this curious individual is another one of not
less remarkable character, but of smaller proportions, entirely human as
far up as the shoulders, while the head is that of an animal which
reminds us of the Egyptian ibis, without being identical with it. The
small pointed head is furnished with three ears, or with a pair of ears
and some other excrescence, and beyond with a sort of hood (which, more
than any other particular, recalls the idea of Egyptian art), but it is
not furrowed; over the fore part of the head is a round line
representing some ornament, or perhaps the basilisc. This figure
likewise has a bow in its right hand, but, as it would seem, no arrow,
while the left hand is turned away from the body.
Between these two half-human figures, which are in a hostile attitude,
is a bullock, small in proportion to the adjacent lineaments of the
human figure, but chiselled with the same care and the same skilful
hand, with the only exception that the feet are omitted, the legs
terminating in points, a defect which I shall have occasion to notice
also in another sculpture. There is another peculiarity about this
figure, the upper part of the bull, by some accident, having been
hollowed out, while in general all the inner part between the deeply-
chiselled outlines of these sculptures is left in high relief. The
animal is turned with its back towards the figure on the right, whose
bow it seems about to break. The block on which it was sculptured was
about four feet in breadth and three in height. It was lying loose on
the top of the cliff.
No barbarian could have graven the lines with such astonishing firmness,
and given to all the figures the light, natural shape which they
exhibit. The Romans, who had firmly established their dominion as far as
Garama, or Jerma, might easily have sent emissaries to this point and
even further; but the sculptures have nothing in them of a Roman
character. Some few particulars call to mind the Egyptian sculptures.
But on the whole it seems to be a representation of a subject taken from
the native mythology, executed by some one who had been in intimate
relation with the more advanced people on the coast, perhaps with the
Carthaginians. Be this as it may, it is scarcely doubtful that the
subject represents two divinities disputing over a sacrifice, and that
the figure at the left is intended for the victor.
On the cliff itself there is another sculpture on a large block which,
now that the western end is broken off, is about twelve feet long and
five feet high. The surface of the block is quite smooth, protected as
it has been, in some degree, by the block above, which projects
considerably; nevertheless the sculpture has suffered a good deal. It
bears testimony to a state of life very different from that which we are
accustomed to see now in these regions, and illustrates and confirms
Saint Augustine’s[60] statement, that the ancient kings of this country
made use of bulls for their conveyance. It represents a dense group of
oxen in a great variety of positions, but all moving towards the right,
where probably, on the end of the stone which is now broken off, the
pond or well was represented from which the beasts were to be watered.
Some of these bulls are admirably executed, and with a fidelity which
can scarcely be accounted for, unless we suppose that the artist had
before his eyes the animals which he chiselled. My sketch gives only a
faint idea of the design, which is really beautiful. The only defect, as
I have already remarked above, is in the feet, which, from some reason
or other, have been negligently treated.
[Illustration]
If we consider that the sculpture described is close to a watering-place
on the high road to Central Africa, we are reduced to the conjecture,
that at that time cattle were not only common in this region, but even
that they were the common beasts of burden instead of the camel, which
we here look for in vain. Not only has the camel no place among these
sculptures, but even among the rude outlines which at a much later
period have been made on the blocks around, representing buffaloes,
ostriches, and another kind of birds, there are no camels; and it is a
well-known fact that the camel was introduced into the western part of
Northern Africa at a much later period.[61]
[Illustration]
There was a similar group on another block of this interesting cliff,
but too much effaced to allow the particulars to be distinguished; but
the figure of an ass among the oxen was quite clear, as well as that of
a horse, which was, however, ill-drawn. Not far off, Overweg found
another sculptured stone representing, as the annexed sketch shows, an
ox jumping through or falling into a ring or hoop, which I should
suppose to have an allegorical meaning, or to represent a sacrifice,
rather than, as Mr. Richardson thought, to represent any games of the
circus. There was a circle regularly laid with large blocks of rock, at
the south-western slope of the cliff: these, I should suspect, belong to
the same period as the sculptures before mentioned.
To a later period belong innumerable inscriptions in Tefínagh, with
which the cliffs on the other side of the valley and overhanging the
waterpond are covered. These are mere scribblings, and are interesting
merely as they serve to render evident, by contrast, the superior merit
and age of the adjacent sculptures. It appeared to me remarkable, that
on this side, where the water now principally collects, not a single
drawing should be seen; and I formed the conclusion that in more ancient
times the water collected on the other side.
The valley is formed by the junction of two branches coming from the
north, of which the western is the more considerable, being joined by
some smaller wadis. Just at the place of our encampment it changed its
direction, and extended from W. to E., having run in its upper course
from N.W. to S.E. After the junction, the valley runs from N. to S., and
loses for a moment almost the character of a wadi, while running over
pebbly ground; but it soon becomes once more well-bordered and adorned
with fine groups of talha-trees, and in some places exhibits a river-bed
eight feet deep, and still wet. Near a shepherd’s cave there was a very
luxuriant tree, under whose shade I lay down. Towards evening the
pilgrim-caravan of Haj ʿAbd el Káder, which had delayed so long in the
wadi, arrived. The whole valley resounded with the cries of the men and
their camels, who were all eagerly pressing towards the pond at the foot
of the steep cliffs. Fortunately we had already laid in a supply of
water; else we should not have been able to obtain any fit to drink.
[Sidenote: Sunday, July 7th.]
Owing to the camels having strayed to a great distance, we started at a
late hour, still leaving the Tawárek chiefs behind, who wanted to settle
some business with the Tawáti, and for this purpose had changed their
dirty travelling-dress for showy caftans and bernúses. We ascended the
higher level, and continued along it, crossing some small beds of
watercourses overgrown with herbage, till, after a little more than four
miles, we had to descend into a deep and wild ravine which led us to a
vale. Having again ascended, we then came to the wide and regular valley
called Erazar-n-Hágarné, bordered by steep cliffs from 150 to 200 feet
high, and richly clothed with herbage. Following the windings of this
large wadi, which evidently has received its name from the circumstance
that the Hogár or Hágara pasture their camels chiefly hereabouts, we
reached the point where it is joined by the valley called Áman sémmedné,
and encamped near a fine talha-tree in order to allow Hatíta to come up.
This valley has its name from the cold water which at times descends
from the plateau in floods, of which the deeply-worn channel bears
evident traces; it is joined at this place by an important branch-valley
and several smaller ravines.
When the heat of the sun began to decline, I took a walk through the
valley; and being attracted by a circle laid out very regularly with
large slabs like the opening of a well, I began to ascend the steep
cliffs opposite the mouth of the valley of Áman sémmedné, rising to a
height of about 500 feet, and which, as I clearly saw, had been
repeatedly ascended. The cliffs are here, as is usual in this formation,
broken into regular strata; and steep flat blocks standing upright give
them an imposing appearance. My search here, however, led only to the
discovery of the well-chiselled form of a single bullock, in exactly the
same style as that in Wadi Telísaghé, though it had suffered a little
from its exposed situation; but the whole appearance of the locality
shows that in former times it contained more of this kind. On the plain
above the cliffs is another circle regularly laid out, and, like the
many circles seen in Cyrenaica and in other parts of Northern Africa,
evidently connected with the religious rites of the ancient inhabitants
of these regions. Quartz pebbles were scattered about this part of the
valley.
Our people meanwhile had been busy laying in provision of dry herbage
for the next marches, during which we were told our camels would
scarcely find anything to feed upon; and our Tawárek friends, when they
at length arrived for their supper, did the same.
[Sidenote: Monday, July 8th.]
The caravan of the Tawáti having passed by our encampment at an early
hour, we followed betimes, having an interesting day’s march before us.
For the first three miles we still kept along the large valley, into
which masses of sand had been driven down from the plateau by the strong
east winds: further on it became dry and bare. To this succeeded an
irregular knot of hollows and plains between the sides of the plateau,
which in some places formed imposing promontories and detached
buttresses, all on one and the same level. We then began to ascend along
a sort of broad valley, which gradually assumed a regular shape, and
bore the name of Tísi. The slope of the plateau was shaped into regular
strata, the uppermost of which form steep precipices like the walls of a
castle; the lower ones slope down more gradually. Here we discovered
ahead of us, at the foot of the southern slope, the encampment of the
pilgrim-caravan, who were resting during the heat of the day. We
continued our march, always ascending, till a little after noon we
reached the edge of the pass, a perfect watershed, of more than 2000
feet elevation, descending more gradually towards the east as far as the
well of Sháraba, while towards the west it formed a steep precipice,
passable only along a most interesting gully cut into it by the water
towards the Valley of Ghát. The higher level, which rises above the pass
about 300 feet, seems to be considerably depressed in this place, where
it collects large floods of water, such as could alone cut the
remarkably wild passage through the sandstone cliffs which we were about
to descend: it is called Rálle.
The first part of it was more rough than wild, and the cliffs of the
sandstone rather rugged and split than precipitous and grand; but after
half an hour’s descent it bore evident traces of the waters that descend
from the heights, and which being here collected into one mighty stream,
with enormous power, force their way down through a narrow channel. The
defile was here encompassed by rocky walls about a hundred feet high,
half of which consisted of sandstone, while the other half was formed by
a thick deposit of marl; and a little further down it was not more than
six feet wide, and the floor and the walls were as smooth as if they had
been cut by the hand of man; but the course of the defile was rather
winding and not at all in a straight line, forming altogether a pass
easily to be defended by a very small power, and affording the Tawárek a
stronghold against any designs of conquest on the side of the Turks,
although it does not form the frontier, but is regarded as entirely
belonging to Fezzán. At the narrowest point Tawárek, as well as Arab
travellers had recorded their names.
Where the channel began to widen, there were some curious narrow gaps or
crevices on both sides, the one to the right, with its smooth rounded
surface, bearing a great similarity to the famous Ear of Dionysius in
Syracuse. The walls contained strata of chalk and ironstone; and Overweg
found here some interesting petrifactions. The crevice to the left was
less deep, and rather resembled a cell or chamber.
Having here waited some time for the boat to come up, we started
together, but had still to get through two more narrow passes of the
wadi, and at four o’clock in the afternoon entered another very narrow
defile, the steep cliffs forming it being covered with inscriptions. At
length, after a descent of altogether four hours, we emerged into the
open plain some 600 feet below, and had a wide view of the high
precipitous cliffs of the plateau, stretching out in several buttresses
into the plain, which is interrupted only by detached hills. Amongst
these was a rather remarkable one upon a terrace-like base, and opening
with three caverns towards the roadside. Ascending the terrace, I found
the westernmost of the caverns vaulted, as if by art, in the shape of a
large niche, but it was a little filled with sand; I found, however, no
inscriptions nor anything but four round holes, about nine inches in
diameter, hollowed out in a slab on the terrace in front of the cavern.
Beyond this hill, where Hatíta told us that he had once passed the heat
of the day with ʿAbd Allah (Clapperton) and the tabíb (Oudney), the
country is quite open towards the north. About sunset we encamped in the
deep Erazar-n-Tése; there were a few talha-trees and some herbage.
The following day our route lay over the dreary plain, where nothing but
the varied form of the rocky buttresses projecting from the plateau into
the plain interrupted the monotony of the prospect. Near the slope the
country seems a little less desolate; and the valley Támelelt, which
extends between two of the promontories, has even a great reputation
among the natives. In the afternoon we entered a sandy region, when we
began to ascend gradually till we reached the summit of the sand-hills.
We then continued on the higher level, where chalk protruded to the
surface. After a long march we encamped on stony ground, covered only
with a scanty growth of sebót.
On the 10th we descended a good deal from this higher ground. At first
the descent was gradual; but beyond the valley In-kássewa, which running
through high rocky ground is not so poor in herbage, we descended about
two hundred feet by steep terraces, having before us the peculiarly
serrated crest of the Akakús, and in front of it some lower offshoots
covered with sand. The bottom of the plain was a broad and entirely
naked level with hard calcareous soil, surrounded by irregular half-
decayed hilly ridges. It forms the boundary between Fezzán and the
country of the Hogár. The character of the country underwent no change
till we reached the valley Telíga, where, at an early hour in the
afternoon, we encamped near a group of talha-trees, not far from the
well, and remained for the next two days at an elevation of 1435 feet.
The valley is very shallow, now and then interrupted by some sand-hills
and adorned with some fine specimens of the ethel-tree, while broad
strips of herbage cover the more favoured spots. It runs N.W., nearly
parallel with the range of the Akakús, which remained at a distance of
three miles. It joins the valley Ilághlaghén, which again unites with
the Titábtarén; and this valley runs towards a favoured spot called
Sérdales, which we were unfortunately prevented from visiting, as Hatíta
thought we should be annoyed by the begging propensities of the people.
Copious springs, from which the whole locality takes the name of el
Awenát, irrigate and fertilize the soil, and support a village of about
the same size as Tigger-odé, inhabited by about a hundred families,
while in the gardens corn, melons, and ghédeb are produced in tolerable
quantity. The water of the springs is said to be warm. We saw a party of
Hágara from that place, who called on our friends; they were fine men
and neatly dressed.
The water of our well was not very good; from being at first
discoloured, it gradually acquired a taste like that of ink, and when
boiled with tea became entirely black. Late in the evening our best and
most steady servant, Mohammed from Gatrón, was wounded, but whether
stung by a scorpion or bitten by a snake he knew not, and was much
alarmed. We applied spirits of hartshorn to the wound; but he was very
ill for the next twenty-four hours, and totally disabled, so that we
were obliged to bind him on the camel during the next day’s march.
[Sidenote: Saturday, July 13th.]
There had been much talk for some days to the effect that we travellers,
together with Hatíta, should take the nearer, but more difficult, road
to Ghát across the range, while our luggage should go by the longer, but
smoother, road round the mountains; but it was at length decided that we
should all go by the longer road, and none but the Sfaksi, who was
anxious to overtake the caravan as soon as possible, took the more
difficult path, which, for geological observations, might have proved
the more interesting. Going sometimes on pebbly, at others on sandy
ground, after five miles we reached the shallow valley, Ilághlaghén,
running from east to west, and handsomely overgrown with bushes; and
after another stretch of about the same length, we entered the range of
mountains, consisting of remarkably cragged and scarred rocks, with many
narrow defiles. Altogether it presented a very curious spectacle.
When the rocks assumed a smoother appearance, we suddenly descended into
a deep ravine, which, at the first glance, appeared to be of a volcanic
nature; but, on closer inspection, all the black rocks composing these
dismal-looking cliffs, proved to consist of sandstone, blackened by the
influence of the atmosphere: further on it was disposed in regular
strata very much like slate. The western and highest part of the range
seems to consist of clay-slate. The valley changed its character in some
degree after its junction with a side-valley called Tipérkum, which
bears distinct marks of great floods occasionally descending along its
channel from the mountains. Here we collected some firewood, as we were
told that further on we should find none, and then entered a defile or
glen with an ascent of about a hundred feet above the bottom of the
valley. Beyond this the scene grew more open, and irregular plains,
interrupted by steep buttresses, succeeded each other.
At half-past four o’clock in the afternoon we had gradually begun to
change our direction from N.W. by W. to S. The valley was bordered by a
deep chasm and craggy mountain to the right, and a range of grotesque
promontories towards the left, the slope of which was broken into a
variety of terraces, with several cones rising from them. At length
turning round the edge of the mountain-range, we entered the broad
valley of Tánesof, having before us the isolated and castellated crest
of mount Ídinen, or Kasr Jenún, and on our left the long range of the
Akakús, beautifully illuminated by the setting sun, and forming a sort
of relief in various colours, the highest precipitous crest, with its
castles and towers, being white, while the lower slope, which was more
gradual and rugged, disclosed regular strata of red marl. Towards the
west the valley, about five miles broad, was bordered by sand-hills,
whence the sand was carried by the wind over its whole surface. We
ourselves encamped at length on sandy soil without the least herbage,
while at the distance of about two miles a strip of green was seen
running along the valley.
Starting at an early hour the next day, we kept along the broad barren
valley straight for the Enchanted Castle, which the fanciful reports of
our companions had invested with great interest. Notwithstanding, or
perhaps in consequence of, the warnings of the Tawárek not to risk our
lives in so irreligious and perilous an undertaking as a visit to this
dwelling of the demons, I made up my mind to visit it, convinced as I
was that it was an ancient place of worship, and that it might probably
contain some curious sculptures or inscriptions. Just at noon the naked
bottom of the valley began to be covered with a little herbage, when,
after another mile, beyond a depression in the ground which had
evidently at one time formed a considerable waterpond, talha-trees and
ethel-bushes broke the monotony of the landscape, while between the
sand-hills on our right a broad strip of green was seen, coming from the
westernmost corner of the Ídinen. Keeping still on for about five miles,
we encamped in the midst of a shallow concavity of circular shape,
surrounded by herbage, and near a large mound crowned by an ethel-tree.
At some distance S.E. we had the well Táhala, the water of which proved
very good.
As it was too late to visit the Ídinen to-day, I sat down in the shade
of a fine talha, and made the subjoined sketch of it.
[Illustration: SKETCH OF THE IDINEN.]
In the evening, we received a visit from two men belonging to a caravan
laden with merchandise of Ghadamsíyin (people of Ghadámes), which was
said to have come, by the direct road through the wadi, in thirty days
from Tripoli.
[Sidenote: Monday, July 15th.]
This was a _dies ater_ for me. Overweg and I had determined to start
early in the morning for the remarkable mountain; but we had not been
able to obtain from the Tawárek a guide to conduct us from thence to the
next well, whither the caravan was to proceed by the direct road. Hatíta
and Utaeti having again resisted all our solicitations for a guide, I at
length, determined as I was to visit the mountain at any cost, started
off in the confidence of being able to make out the well in the
direction indicated to me. By ill-luck, our provision of zummíta (a cool
and refreshing paste on which we were accustomed to breakfast) was
exhausted the day before, so that I was obliged to take with me dry
biscuit and dates, the worst possible food in the desert when water is
scarce.
But as yet I needed no stimulus, and vigorously pushed my way through
the sand-hills, which afforded no very pleasant passage. I then entered
a wide, bare, desolate-looking plain, covered with black pebbles, from
which arose a few black mounds. Here I crossed the beginning of a
_fiumara_ richly overgrown with herbage, which wound along through the
sand-hills towards the large valley-plain. It was the abode of a
beautiful pair of maraiya (_Antelope Soemmeringii_), which, probably
anxious for their young ones, did not make off when roused by my
approach, but stopped at a short distance, gazing at me and wagging
their tails. Pursuing my way over the pebbly ground, which gradually
rose till it was broken up by a considerable ravine descending from the
western part of the mount, I disturbed another party of three antelopes,
which were quietly lying down under the cover of some large blocks. At
last I began to feel fatigued from walking over the sharp-pointed
pebbles, as the distance proved to be greater than I had originally
imagined; and I did not seem to have got much nearer to the foot of the
Enchanted Mountain. In fact it proved that the crest of the mount formed
a sort of horseshoe, so that its middle part, for which I had been
steering all the time, in order to gain a depression which seemed to
afford an easy ascent, was by far the remotest. I therefore changed my
course and turned more eastward, but only met with more annoyance, for,
ascending the slope which I hoped would soon convey me to the summit, I
suddenly came to the steep precipice of a deep ravine, which separated
me from the crest.
Being already fatigued, the disappointment, of course, depressed my
spirits, and I had to summon all my resolution and energy in order to
descend into the ravine and climb the other side. It was now past ten
o’clock; the sun began to put forth its full power, and there was not
the slightest shade around me. In a state of the utmost exhaustion I at
length reached the narrow pinnacled crest, which was only a few feet
broad, and exhibited neither inscriptions nor sculptures. I had a fine
prospect towards the S.W. and N.E.; but I looked around in vain for any
traces of our caravan. Though exposed to the full rays of the sun, I lay
down on my high barbacan to seek repose; but my dry biscuit or a date
was quite unpalatable, and being anxious about my little provision of
water, I could only sip an insufficient draught from my small water-
skin.
As the day advanced I got anxious lest our little band, thinking that I
was already in advance, might continue their march in the afternoon,
and, in spite of my weakness, determined to try to reach the encampment.
I therefore descended the ravine, in order to follow its course, which,
according to Hatíta’s indications, would lead me in the direction of the
well. It was very hot; and being thirsty, I swallowed at once the little
water that remained. This was about noon; and I soon found that the
draught of mere water, taken upon an empty stomach, had not at all
restored my strength.
At length I reached the bottom of the valley. Hatíta had always talked
as if they were to encamp at no great distance from the mountain; yet,
as far as I could strain my view, no living being was to be seen. At
length I became puzzled as to my direction, and, hurrying on as fast as
my failing strength would allow, I ascended a mound crowned with an
ethel-bush, and fired my pistols; but I waited in vain for an answer: a
strong east wind was blowing dead against me. Reflecting a moment on my
situation, I then crossed the small sand-hills, and, ascending another
mound, fired again. Convinced that there could be nobody in this
direction, at least at a moderate distance, I bethought myself that our
party might be still behind, and, very unluckily, I kept more directly
eastward.
The valley was here very richly overgrown with sebót; and to my great
delight I saw at a distance some small huts attached to branches of the
ethel-tree, covered on the top with sebót, and open in front. With joy
in my heart I hastened on towards them, but found them empty; and not a
living being was to be seen, nor was there a drop of water to be got.
My strength being now exhausted, I sat down on the naked plain, with a
full view before me of the whole breadth of the wadi, and with some
confidence expected the caravan. I even thought, for a moment, that I
beheld a string of camels passing in the distance. But it was an
illusion; and when the sun was about to set, not being able to muster
strength enough to walk a few paces without sitting down, I had only to
choose for my night’s quarters between the deserted huts and an ethel-
tree which I saw at a little distance. I chose the latter, as being on a
more elevated spot, and therefore scrambled to the tree, which was of a
respectable old age, with thick tall branches, but almost leafless. It
was my intention to light a fire, which promised almost certain
deliverance; but I could not muster sufficient strength to gather a
little wood. I was broken down and in a feverish state.
Having lain down for an hour or two, after it became quite dark I arose
from the ground, and, looking around me, descried to my great joy a
large fire S.W. down the valley, and, hoping that it might be that of my
companions, I fired a pistol, as the only means of communicating with
them, and listened as the sound rolled along, feeling sure that it would
reach their ears; but no answer was returned. All remained silent. Still
I saw the flame rising towards the sky, and telling where deliverance
was to be found, without my being able to avail myself of the signal.
Having waited long in vain, I fired a second time—yet no answer. I lay
down in resignation, committing my life to the care of the Merciful One;
but it was in vain that I tried to sleep, and, restless and in a high
fever, I tossed about on the ground, looking with anxiety and fear for
the dawn of the next day.
At length the long night wore away, and dawn was drawing nigh. All was
repose and silence; and I was sure I could not choose a better time for
trying to inform my friends, by signal, of my whereabouts. I therefore
collected all my strength, loaded my pistol with a heavy charge, and
fired—once—twice. I thought the sound ought to awaken the dead from
their tombs, so powerfully did it reverberate from the opposite range
and roll along the wadi; yet no answer. I was at a loss to account for
the great distance apparently separating me from my companions, who
seemed not to have heard my firing.
The sun that I had half longed for, half looked forward to with terror,
at last rose. My condition, as the heat went on increasing, became more
dreadful; and I crawled around, changing every moment my position, in
order to enjoy the little shade afforded by the leafless branches of the
tree. About noon there was of course scarcely a spot of shade left—only
enough for my head,—and I suffered greatly from the pangs of thirst,
although I sucked a little of my blood till I became senseless, and fell
into a sort of delirium, from which I only recovered when the sun went
down behind the mountains. I then regained some consciousness, and
crawled out of the shade of the tree, throwing a melancholy glance over
the plain, when suddenly I heard the cry of a camel. It was the most
delightful music I ever heard in my life; and raising myself a little
from the ground, I saw a mounted Tarki passing at some distance from me,
and looking eagerly around. He had found my footsteps in the sandy
ground, and losing them again on the pebbles, was anxiously seeking
traces of the direction I had taken. I opened my parched mouth, and
crying, as loud as my faint strength allowed, “áman, áman” (water,
water), I was rejoiced to get for answer “íwah! íwah!” and in a few
moments he sat at my side, washing and sprinkling my head, while I broke
out involuntarily into an uninterrupted strain of “el hamdu lilláhi! el
hamdu lilláhi!”
Having thus first refreshed me, and then allowed me a draught which,
however, I was not able to enjoy, my throat being so dry, and my fever
still continuing, my deliverer, whose name was Musa, placed me upon his
camel, mounted himself in front of me, and brought me to the tents. They
were a good way off. The joy of meeting again, after I had been already
despaired of, was great; and I had to express my sincere thanks to my
companions, who had given themselves so much trouble to find me. But I
could speak but little at first, and could scarcely eat anything for the
next three days, after which I gradually recovered my strength. It is,
indeed, very remarkable how quickly the strength of a European is broken
in these climes, if for a single day he be prevented from taking his
usual food. Nevertheless I was able to proceed the next day (the 17th),
when we kept more towards the slope of the Akakús, and here passed a
broad lateral valley, rich in herbage, called Ádar-n-jelkum, after which
we descended about a hundred feet from the pebbly ground into sandy soil
forming a sort of valley called Ighelfannís, and full of ethel-trees and
sebót. In such a locality we encamped two hours after noon, near
splendid ethel-trees; but the strong north-easterly wind, enveloping
ourselves and baggage in thick clouds of sand, banished all enjoyment.
[Sidenote: Thursday, July 18th.]
We continued our march with the sure expectation of soon reaching
Ghát[62], the second great station on our journey. The valley after some
time became free from ethel-trees, and opened a view of the little town,
situated at the north-western foot of a rocky eminence jutting out into
the valley, and girt by sand-hills on the west. Its plantation extends
in a long strip towards S.S.W., while another group, formed by the
plantation and by the noble-looking mansion of Háj Ahmed, appears
towards the west. Here we were joined by Mohammed Sheríf, a nephew of
Háj Ahmed, in a showy dress, and well mounted on a horse; and we
separated from Hatíta in order to take our way round the north side of
the hill, so as to avoid exciting the curiosity and importunity of the
townspeople. But a good many boys came out of the town, and exhibited
quite an interesting scene as they recognized Yakúb (Mr. Richardson),
who had visited this place on his former journey. Many people came out
to see us, some offering us their welcome, others remaining indifferent
spectators.
Thus we reached the new plantation of Háj Ahmed the governor, as he is
called, of Ghát, and found, at the entrance of the out-building, which
had been destined for our use, the principal men of the town, who
received us with great kindness and politeness. The most interesting
among them was Háj Ahmed himself, a man of grave and dignified manners,
who, although a stranger to the place, and a native of Tawát, has
succeeded, through his address and his mercantile prosperity, in
obtaining for himself here an almost princely position, and has founded
in reality a new town, with large and splendid improvements, by the side
of the old city. His situation as governor of Ghát, in reference, and in
some degree in opposition, to the Tawárek chiefs, is a very peculiar
one, and requires, on his part, a good deal of address, patience, and
forbearance. I am convinced that when we first arrived he did not view
us with displeasure, but, on the contrary, was greatly pleased to
receive under his roof a mission of Her Britannic Majesty’s Government,
with whose immense influence and power, and the noble purpose of whose
policy, he was not entirely unacquainted; but his extraordinary and
precarious situation did not allow him to act freely, and besides I
cannot say that he received from us so warm an acknowledgment as his
conduct in the first instance seemed to deserve.
Besides him, the chief parties in our first conversation were his nephew
Ahmed Mohammed Sheríf (the man who came to meet us), a clever but
forward lad, of pleasant manners—whom in the course of my travels I met
several times in Sudán,—and Mohammed Káfa, a cheerful good-humoured man.
[Illustration]
Our quarters, of which the accompanying woodcut gives the ground-plan,
were certainly neither airy nor agreeable; but the hot sand-wind which
blew without made them appear to us quite tolerable.
[Footnote 60: Augustin. Op. vol. xvi. p. 526. ed. Bassan.:—“Garamantum
regibus tauri placuerunt.”]
[Footnote 61: See my Wanderings along the Shore of the Mediterranean,
vol. i. p. 5. ff.
It is, however, to be remarked, that even now, when the quantity of
water all over the ancient world has certainly decreased a great deal,
oxen are sometimes used on this Sudán road by way of Ghát soon after the
rains. I have been assured that in 1847 or 1848 the well-known Tébu Haj
Abérma travelled with oxen from Kanó as far as Ghát, about the time of
the ʿAïd el kebír,—that is to say, in the month of December,—the oxen
being watered every second day.]
[Footnote 62: If I were to give the real native sound, I should write
Rhát rather than Ghát; and it is only from fear lest I might offend the
ear of the English reader, that I abstain from following this principle.
The ghain of the Arabs has a double sound, sometimes as _gh_, at others
as _rh_, and the latter prevails entirely in this part of Africa; and I
do not see why we should not express this difference. For the same
reason I should prefer writing Sonrhay, and not Songhay, or Sunghay.]
CHAP. X.
THE INDIGENOUS BERBER POPULATION.
There can be no doubt that even Fezzán, in ancient times, had a
population entirely different from that dwelling near the coast; but the
original black inhabitants of that country have been swept away, or
mixed up entirely with the Arabs, who seem to have invaded this country
not earlier than the 15th century of our era, for in Makrizi’s time
Fezzán was still a Berber country.[63] But few names now remain which
evidently bespeak a Central African origin, such as those terminating in
_awa_, as Tasáwa or Tessáwa (a town already mentioned by Edrísi[64]),
Portukawa, and others.
But in the country of Ghát, which we have now entered, the case is very
different; for here the former state of things has not been so entirely
altered as not to leave some unmistakable testimonies behind it.
All the original population of North Africa appear to have been a race
of the Semitic stock, but who, by intermarriage with tribes which came
from Egypt, or by way of it, had received a certain admixture. The
consequence was, that several distinct tribes were produced, designated
by the ancients as Libyans, Moors, Numidians, Libyphœnicians, Getulians,
and others, and traced by the native historians to two different
families, the Beránes and the Abtar, who, however, diverge from one
common source, Mazigh or Madaghs. This native wide-spread African race,
either from the name of their supposed ancestor, Ber, which we recognise
in the name Afer, or in consequence of the Roman term _barbari_, has
been generally called Berber, and in some regions Shawi and Shelluh. The
general character and language of these people seem to have been the
same, while the complexion alone was the distinguishing point of
difference.
How far southward the settlements of this North African race originally
extended, it is difficult to say; but it may be gathered, even from
ancient writers, that they did not extend to the very border of the
naked desert, and that they were bounded on the south by a region
occupied by Æthiopian races,—an observation which is confirmed by the
present state of things. Wárgela evidently belonged originally to the
dominion of the Blacks, as well as Tawát. The Berbers seem in general to
have kept within their borders till driven from their native seats by
the Arabs: for they had been mildly treated by the former conquerors of
the country (the Phœnicians, the Romans, Vandals, and Byzantines), and
they appear even to have partly embraced Christianity[65]; but this, of
course, was just another principle of opposition between them and their
Mohammedan conquerors, and a great proportion of them were evidently
obliged to retire into the more desolate regions in their rear. The
exact time when this happened we are not able to determine.
In the western part of the desert this transmigration commenced before
the time of Islam; but in the central part of Barbary the flight of the
Berbers seems to have been connected with that numerous immigration of
Arab families into North Africa, which took place in the first half of
the 11th century, in the time and at the instigation of Ahmed ben ʿAli
el Jerjeráni, who died in A.H. 436, or 1044-5 of our era.[66] The
fugitives pushed forward in several great divisions, which it is not
essential here to enumerate, as, with a few exceptions, they have become
extinct. It seems only necessary to advert here to the fact, that of all
the reports handed down to us by the ancient Arab historians and
geographers respecting the different Berber nations existing in the
desert, the name of Tarki, or Tawárek, by which they are at present
generally designated, occurs only in Ebn Khaldún[67], under the form
Tarká or Táriká; and after him Leo Africanus is the first who, in
mentioning the five great tribes, names one of them Terga.[68] This
name, which has been given to the Berber inhabitants of the desert, and
which Hodgson[69] erroneously supposed to mean “tribe,” is quite foreign
to them. The truly indigenous name by which these people call
themselves, is the same by which they were already known to the Greeks
and Romans, and which was given to their ancestors by Ebn Khaldún and
other Arabic writers, viz. Amázigh, Mázigh, Mazix, Masix, Mazys, Mazax,
and even Maxitanus in the singular form. The general form now used in
these regions is Amóshagh[70] in the singular, Imóshagh in the plural,
and Temáshight in the neutral form. This is the native name by which the
so-called Tawárek[71] designate their whole nation, which is divided
into several great families. And if the reader inquires who gave them
the other name, I answer, with full confidence, the Arabs; and the
reason why they called them so was probably from their having left or
abandoned their religion, from the verb ترك, “tereku dínihum;” for, from
evidence which I have collected elsewhere, it seems clear that a great
part of the Berbers of the desert were once Christians (they are still
called by some Arabs “the Christians of the desert”), and that they
afterwards changed their religion and adopted Islám; notwithstanding
which they still call God “Mesí,” and an angel “anyelús,” and have
preserved many curious customs which bear testimony to their ancient
creed.
I said that the regions into which the Berbers had thus been obliged to
withdraw, had been formerly occupied by Ethiopian or, as we may rather
call them, sub-Libyan tribes. But who were these tribes? We have here to
do only with the region about Ghát, reserving the other districts of the
desert for future discussion as we advance in our journey. This region,
as well as the whole country southward, including Aïr, or rather Asben,
was anciently inhabited, I think, by the Góber race. But the Hogár, or
Azkár, who now occupy this country, do not seem to have been its first
conquerors, but to have found another race, nearly related to
themselves, in possession of it.
The tribe which now possesses the country, the Imóshagh or Tawárek of
Ghát, are generally called Azkár or Azgar; but they are named also
Hogár, or Hágara, though the latter name is very often employed to
denote another tribe. Upon this point, also, we have received full and
credible information from Ebn Khaldún, who tells us[72] that the name
Hogár was formed from that of Hauwára, and served to designate that
section of the great Berber tribe which had retired into the desert
about Gógó; and it is very remarkable that the Hogár were described just
about the same time, in those same regions, by the traveller Ebn
Batúta.[73] Hogár therefore seems to be the more general name, while
Azkár serves to designate a section of this tribe. However, this name
also appears to be an ancient one, being mentioned already by Edrísi
(A.H. 453)[74] as the name of a tribe evidently identical with that of
which we are speaking, the settlements of which he indicates as being
distant twelve days’ journey from Tasáwa, and eighteen from Ghadámes. It
is mentioned about a century later by Ebn Sʿaid[75] as dwelling in the
same place. The Tinýlkum Ibrahim was of opinion that Azkár means that
section of the Hogár who had remained (at some period unknown to us)
“faithful to the established authority.” But this interpretation of the
name, if we consider the early period at which it occurs, does not seem
quite probable; and I suspect that those may be right who give to the
name a more general meaning.
At present the Azkár form but a small part of the population of the
country which they rule, namely, the region inclosed between the desert
bordered by Wadi Talíya in the east, the valleys Zerzúwa and Áfara in
the west, the well of Asïu towards the south, and Nijbertín towards the
north, and are not able to furnish more than about five hundred armed
men. In fact, they form a warlike aristocracy of five families, divided
into thirty divisions or fayas, each of which has an independent chief.
The names of the five families are Urághen, Ímanang, Ífogas, Hadánarang,
and Manghássatang. The Urághen or Aurághen, meaning the “Yellows,” or
“golden” (in colour), who seem to have once formed a very powerful
family[76], and have given their name to one of the principal dialects
of the Tarkíye or Temáshight, are at present much dispersed, many of
them living among the Awelímmiden on the northern shore of the Isa or
Niger, where I shall have more to say about them. Even among the Azkár
they still form the most important division, and count at least a
hundred and fifty full-grown men. A large body of them is settled in and
about the valley of Arikím, on the direct road from Murzuk to Sudán, and
about fifty miles to the south of Ghát. Their original abode is said to
have been at a place called Asáwa, to the south of Irálghawen. But the
tribe that formerly possessed the greatest authority, and which on this
account is still called Amanókalen, or the sultan tribe, is that of the
Ímanang, who are at present reduced to extreme poverty, and to a very
small number, said not even to reach ten families. But they have still a
very large number of Imghád under their command. Their women are
celebrated for their beauty. They are most of them settled in the valley
of Díder. The third division of the Azkár, to which Hatíta, the friend
of the English, belongs, are the Manghássatang, or Imaghássaten, whose
leather tents are generally pitched in the Valley of Zerzúwa, on the
road from Ghát to Tawát, about six days’ journey from the former.[77]
The three clans, or “tiyúsi,” which I have mentioned, constitute at
present, strictly speaking, the family of the Azkár; the other two
divisions, viz. the Ífogas and the Hadánarang, having separated from the
rest, and broken in some way the national bond which formerly united
them with the others. One of them, the Ífogas, are scattered over the
whole desert, some having settled among the Kél-owí at a place called
Tórit, on the road to Damerghú; another section dwells in the more
favoured valleys to the east of Mabrúk; while a small portion of this
tribe remains in the territory of the Azkár, where they have their abode
in the valley of Áfara, about halfway between Ghát and Tawát. The second
of these tribes, viz. the Hadánarang, is settled in a place called
Ádemar, not far from the southern frontier of the territory of the
Azkár, in the midst of the Imghád. They are, to some extent at least,
migratory freebooters; and to them belonged those robbers who, soon
after we had fortunately got out of their clutches, murdered two Tébu
merchants on the road from Aïr to Ghát, carrying away their whole
caravan, with no less than thirty-three slaves.
I was assured by Hatíta that there were not less than thirty
subdivisions of the larger clans, called “faya,” in Temáshight; but I
could only ascertain the names of four of them: viz. the Izóban and the
Okéren, living in the Wadi Irárarén, and probably belonging to one and
the same family (I believe the Ímanang); the Degárrab, probably a
section of the Hadánarang, living in a place called Tárat together with
some Imghád; and finally the Ihiyáwen or Ihéwan, a portion of whom dwell
in Titarsén, while another section has settled near Tasáwa in Fezzán,
forming the last link of the chain which connects the Imghád and the
Azkár. Another link is formed by the Makéresang, who, like the former,
submit to the authority of the chief Nakhnúkhen; then follow the
Ifélelen, who are settled in Tasíl with the Imghád. The least degenerate
of these half-caste tribes, who hold a middle place between the Imóshagh
and the Imghád, or between the free and the servile, is said to be the
section of the Mateghílelen, now settled in the Wadi el Gharbi, in
Fezzán, while their kindred certainly belong to the Imghád. This is the
best proof that the name Ámghi does not express national descent, but
social condition. Another section or tribe loosely connected with the
Azkár, but not regarded as noble, although as strict ascetics they are
much respected, and are enabled to carry on almost undisturbed the
commerce between Fezzán and Negroland, are the Tin-ýlkum, of whom I have
already had occasion to speak repeatedly. At present they are settled
partly in the valley Tigger-odé, where their chief the Háj ʿAli resides,
partly in Wadi el Gharbi and around Tasáwa; but their ancient seats were
to the south of Ghát, and even in the town of Ghát itself, they having
been called in to decide the quarrel between the former inhabitants of
that place, the Kél-tellek and the Makamúmmasen.
As I said above, the ruling class of the Azkár constitutes by far the
smaller part of the population of the country, while the great mass of
the population of these regions consists of a subject or degraded tribe
called Imghád, or, in the Arabic form, Merátha or even Metáthra. This I
formerly considered to be a gentile name; but I found afterwards that it
is a general epithet used by all the different tribes of the Imóshagh to
denote degraded tribes. The singular form of the name is Ámghi[78],
which is the counterpart of Amóshagh, as it means “servile,” while the
latter means “free.” The Imghád of the Azkár differ a great deal from
the ruling tribe, particularly the women; for while the Imóshagh are
tolerably fair, a great many of the former are almost black, but
nevertheless well made, and not only without negro features, but
generally with a very regular physiognomy, while the women, at least in
their forms, approach more to the type of the negro races. But as for
their language, I must confess that I am not able to decide with
confidence whether it sprang originally from a Berber dialect or the
Háusa language[79]: many of the people, indeed, seem to be bilingual;
but by far the greater part of the men do not even understand the Háusa
language. I am persuaded that they were originally Berbers who have
become degraded by intermixture with the black natives.
The Imghád of the Azkár, who altogether form a numerous body, being able
to furnish about 5000 armed men, are divided into four sections,—the
Batánatang or Ibétnaten, the Fárkana or Aférkenén, Segígatang, and
Wárwaren, which latter name, I think, very naturally calls to mind the
Latin “Barbari,” a name which, according to some ancient authors,
belonged to certain tribes of Northern Africa[80], and may fairly
explain the origin of the name Berber, though it is to be remarked that
“_war_,” a syllabic with which a great number of Berber names begin,
seems to signify “man.” Of these four divisions the last three seem to
live principally in and around the small town of Bárakat, a few miles
south of Ghát, and in and around Jánet or Yánet, about thirty miles
S.S.W. from Égeri. Neither the population of the town of Ghát nor that
of the town of Bárakat is at present formed by these Imghád; but I
should suppose that in former times they were also the privileged
inhabitants of Ghát itself, which at present is occupied by a very mixed
race, so well described by the late Mr. Richardson. These two favoured
spots of the desert seem to be left entirely to these people as tenants,
on condition that they take care of the plantations and of the gardens,
and gather the fruit, of which they are bound to give a portion to their
masters. Some of the noble Imóshagh, indeed, seem to have a great many
of these people at their disposal. The Batánatang or Ibétnaten, reside
principally in a valley called Tesíli, while another section of them
have their abode amongst the Hogár, in a district called Tehellahóhet,
on the road from Asïu to Tawát. A portion of the last tribe (viz. the
Fárkana or Aférkenén) dwell in a valley called Tárat, about a day’s
journey north-west from Nghákeli.
Besides these four great divisions, there are many other sections of the
Imghád. The names of these, as far as they became known to me, are as
follows:—the Dik-Surki, settled in the territory of the Azkár in a place
called Édehi; the Kél-n-tunín, living in Aderár; the Amatghílelen[81],
who have their abode in the same spot; the Kél-áhenet, living in Hágara;
the Akeshemáden, in the valley called Atúl; the Íkelan, who have their
dwelling-places in Zerzer; the Kél-ghafsa, in Ífak; the Kél-ífis, in
Temághaset; and finally, the Ijrán.
The ruling race of the Imóshagh subsists entirely on the labour of this
depressed class, as the old Spartans did upon that of the Lacedæmonians,
but still more upon the tribute or gheráma which, as I mentioned above,
they raise from the caravans—a custom already mentioned by Leo
Africanus.[82] Without some such revenue they could not trick themselves
out so well as they do, though when at home in their “tekábber” they
live at very little expense, particularly as they are not polygamists.
The Imghád are not allowed to carry an iron spear nor to wear a sword,
which is the distinction of the free man, nor any very showy dress. Most
of them may be regarded as settled, or as “Kél,” that is to say as the
constant, or at least as the ordinary, inhabitants of a given place; and
this indeed, it seems, is even to be said of a great many of the Azkár
themselves, who seem to hold a middle place between the nomadic and the
settled tribes. The consequence is, that many of them do not live in
leather tents, or “éhe,” but in round conical huts called tekábber, made
of bushes and dry grass.
The town of Ghát (the favoured locality of which might be presumed to
have attracted a settlement at a very early age) is not mentioned by any
Arabic author except the traveller Ebn Batúta in the 14th century, and
seems never to have been a large place. Even now it is a small town of
about 250 houses, but nevertheless of considerable commercial
importance, which would become infinitely greater if the jealousy of the
Tawáti would allow the opening of the direct road from Timbúktu, which
seems to be under the special protection of the powerful chief Gemáma.
The view from the rocky hill, which reaches its greatest elevation just
over the town, and, together with a cistern, offers a few Berber and
Arabic inscriptions to the curious traveller, proved far less extensive
and picturesque than that from a sand-hill a little distance westward
from the house of Háj Ahmed. I ascended this little hill in the
afternoon of the 22nd, and, screened by an ethel-bush, made the
accompanying sketch of the whole oasis, which I hope will give a
tolerably good idea of this interesting locality—the separate strips of
palm-trees, the wide desolate valley, bordered by the steep slope of the
Akakús-range, with its regular strata of marly slate and its pinnacled
crest of sandstone; the little town on the left, at the foot of the
rocky hill, contrasting with the few and frail huts of palm-branches
scattered about here and there; the noble and spacious mansion of the
industrious Háj Ahmed in the foreground, on the northern side of which
lies the flat dwelling assigned to us. When descending from this hill
towards the south, I was greatly pleased with the new improvements added
by Háj Ahmed to his plantation. The example of this man shows how much
may be achieved by a little industry in these favoured spots, where
cultivation might be infinitely increased. In the southernmost and most
recent part of the plantation a large basin, about 100 ft. long and 60
ft. broad, had been formed, receiving a full supply of water from the
northern side of the sand-hills, and irrigating kitchen-gardens of
considerable extent. Thus the wealthy governor makes some advance every
year; but, unfortunately, he seems not to find many imitators.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
GHÁT.
July 22nd. 1850.]
Our negotiation with the Tawárek chiefs might have been conducted with
more success, if a letter written by Her Majesty’s Government to the
chief Jabúr had not been produced at the very moment when all the chiefs
present were ready to subscribe the treaty. But their attention was
entirely distracted from the object in view. This letter made direct
mention of the abolition of the slave-trade; hence it became a very
difficult and delicate matter, especially as Mr. Richardson’s supplies
of merchandise and presents at that moment were entirely in the hands of
the merchant Háj Ibrahim, who, even if liberal enough to abstain from
intrigue against admitting the competition of English merchants, would
be sure to do all in his power to prevent the abolition of the slave-
trade.
It was a serious undertaking to enter into direct negotiation with these
Tawárek chiefs, the absolute masters of several of the most important
routes to Central Africa.[83] It required great skill, entire
confidence, and no inconsiderable amount of means, of which we were
extremely deficient. To this vexation let there be added the petulant
and indiscreet behaviour of our servants, who were exasperated by the
sufferings of the Rámadhán during the hottest season of the year, and
were too well aware of the insufficiency of our means to carry out the
objects of our mission; and the reader will easily understand that we
were extremely glad when, after repeated delays, we were at length able
to leave this place in the pursuance of our journey.
[Footnote 63: Makrizi, Hamaker Specim. Categ. p. 206. بلد فزان واهلها
بربر. El Bekri, p. 455., already mentions Benu-Khaldín, besides the
Fezzánah, as inhabitants of some places. On the same page this diligent
author says expressly that the town of Zawíla was on the border of
Negroland. We shall see, in the second volume, that all this country
constituted part of the Empire of Kánem; indeed, from what El Bekri
says, p. 457., it appears that even within twenty years after the great
and unfortunate immigration of the Arab tribes into Barbary, two tribes,
the Hadrámis and the Sehámis, had taken possession of Wadán. But we
shall see that the Negroes regained this place at a later period.]
[Footnote 64: Edrisi, ed. Jaubert, vol. i. p. 113. Edrísi deserves
attention when he says that the Negroes called Tessáwa “Little Jerma;”
that is to say, they attached to it a celebrated name, as if it were
another capital of the country.]
[Footnote 65: Procop. de Ædificiis, vi. 4.; Joann. Abb. Chronic. p. 13.
(respecting the Mauri pacati, but especially the important tribe of the
Lewátah); Abu’l Hassan, Annales Regg. Maur., ed. Tornberg, pp. 7. 15.
83. (respecting the Western Berbers); El Bekri, Notices et Extraits,
&c., vol. xii. p. 484.; Ebn Khaldún, tom. i. p. 209., le Baron de Slane,
and _passim_.]
[Footnote 66: A few authors make this momentous event, which plunged
North Africa into a series of misfortunes, happen a few years later,
under El Yezúri.—Leo Africanus, ed. Venezia, 1837, l. i. c. 21.: “Ma
quando la loro (degli Arabi) generazione entrò nell’ Africa, allora con
guerra scacciò di là i Numidi; e ella si rimase ad abitar ne’ diserti
vicini ai paesi de’ datteri, e i Numidi andarono a far le loro
abitazioni ne’ diserti che sono propinqui alla Terranegra.”]
[Footnote 67: Ebn Khaldún, vol. i. p. 235. Arab. text, vol. ii. p. 64.
transl. De Slane; vol. i. p. 260. Arab. text, vol. ii. p. 105. transl.
In both passages the name is written تاركا and it is to be noted that
this name was borne by a clan which dwelt nearest to the Arab tribe of
the Beni Solaim. The great General Tárek Ebn Zíyad, who was a Berber
from the tribe of the Ulhassa, seems to have received his name Tárek
from the same source as the Berber clan Táriká received theirs.]
[Footnote 68: El Bekri certainly mentions (Notices et Extraits, vol.
xii. p. 623.) وادي ترقا; but this has nothing to do with the tribe.]
[Footnote 69: Hodgson, Notes on Northern Africa, p. 23. The word which
means tribe is written طَارقَةٌ; and this is an Arabic, and not a Berber
word.]
[Footnote 70: The ز and ش (sh) in Berber names are often confounded.
Thus they say Ikázkezan, Ikáshkeshan; Ágadez, Égedesh.]
[Footnote 71: The name is written by the Arabs promiscuously with the ك
and with the ق, but oftener with the ك; and the name is so pointedly
Arabic that besides the plural form توارك another form is used,
التاركيون. Sultan Bello says properly, وكان هذه التوارك من بقايا البربر
الذي انتثروا ايام افريقية.]
[Footnote 72: Ebn Khaldún, vol. i. p. 275. transl. De Slane.]
[Footnote 73: Journal Asiatique, série iv. tom. i., 1843, p. 238. هكّار.
This is the usual form, Hogár, although Hágara, with the second vowel
short, seems to have no less pretension to correctness.]
[Footnote 74: Edrisi, trad. Jaubert, i. pp. 113. 116. It is very
probable, indeed, that this tribe is already mentioned as early as the
4th century, under the form of Ἀυξωριανοί, and in connection with the
Μάζικες, which is nothing else but the general name of the whole tribe,
Imóshagh, by Philostorgius (Hist. Eccles. xi. viii.), who represents
them as making incursions into Egypt. Under the form Ausuriani
(Ἀυσουριανοί), the same tribe is several times mentioned by Synesius,
the bishop of Cyrene, who expressly represents them as mounted upon
camels. Whether they are identical with the Austoriani of Ammianus
Marcellinus is less certain. For this hint I am indebted to Mr. Cooley.]
[Footnote 75: Ebn Sʿaid, mentioned by Abu’l Fedá, ed. Reinaud, tom. i.
(texte Arabe), p. 125., in the corrupted reading ازكان; trad. vol. ii.
p. 177.]
[Footnote 76: The Aurághen are evidently identical with the Aurígha, one
of the seven principal clans of the Beránes.]
[Footnote 77: In order to point out clearly the situation of these
valleys, I here subjoin a short itinerary of the road from Ghát to
Zerzúwa, and thence to Égeri.
In going from Ghát westwards to Tawát, you reach, after four or five
hours, the place Fiyút; on the second day you sleep in Idú; on the
third, in Átser-n-táshelt; on the fourth, in Azákkan temanókalt (“the
royal plain”); on the fifth, in Ihór-hayen; after which, on the sixth
day, you arrive in Zerzúwa. (This part of the itinerary varies a little
from the itinerary from Ghát to Tawát, given by Mr. Richardson in his
first journey.) Going thence to Égeri, in a direction east from south,
you encamp on the first night in Téni; on the second, in Tin-túzist; on
the third, in Adómar; on the fourth, in Aderár; on the fifth, in Díder;
and on the sixth arrive in Égeri.]
[Footnote 78: امغي pl. امغاد The change of the غ into the ر in the
Arabic form of the name shows to what extent the sound of the _r_
prevails in the African pronunciation of this letter. The final _d_ has
replaced _n_.]
[Footnote 79: Hatíta told us expressly that, if any of the Imghád should
trouble us we should say, “bábo.” Now “bábo” is neither Arabic nor
Temáshight, but the Háusa word for “there is none.”]
[Footnote 80: Hippolytus, Lib. Generat. (p. 101. in the second volume of
the Chronicon Paschale, ed. Bonn.), enumerates among the African tribes
“Afri qui et Barbares;” and in Itinerar. Antonini, p. 2., the Macenites
Barbari are mentioned. Varvar is a Sanscrit word of very general
meaning.]
[Footnote 81: This clan is evidently related to the Mateghílelen
mentioned above, p. 233., as settled at present in the Wadi el Ghárbi.]
[Footnote 82: L. i. c. 20.: “Ma le carovane che passano per li diserti
loro, sono tenute di pagare ai lor principi certa _gabella_.”]
[Footnote 83: Jackson was the first who pointed out the importance of
entering into direct negotiation with the Tawárek.]
[Illustration: DR. BARTH’S TRAVELS IN NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA Sheet No.
5. MAP OF THE ROUTE from FALÉSSELEZ TO TÍDIK 6. to 27. August 1850.
Constructed and drawn by A. Petermann.
Engraved by E. Weller, _Duke Strt. Bloomsbury._
_London, Longman & Co._]
CHAP. XI.
CROSSING A LARGE MOUNTAIN-RIDGE, AND ENTERING ON THE OPEN GRAVELLY
DESERT.
On the morning of the 26th of July I once more found myself on the back
of my camel, and from my elevated seat threw a last glance over the
pleasant picture of the oasis of Ghát. There is an advanced spur of the
plantation about two miles south from the town, called Timéggawé, with a
few scattered cottages at its southern end. Having left this behind us,
we came to the considerable plantation of Íberké, separated into two
groups, one on the west, and the other on the east side, and kept along
the border of the western group, which forms dense clusters, while that
to the east is rather thin and loosely scattered. The town of Bárakat,
lying at the foot of a sandy eminence stretching north and south, became
now and then visible on our right, glittering through the thinner parts
of the plantation.
Being prepared for a good day’s march, as not only the Tinýlkum were
reported to have left Arikím several days ago, but as even the little
caravan of Kél-owí, with whom we had made arrangements for protection
and company on the road, was a considerable way in advance, we were
greatly astonished when ordered to encamp near the scattered palm-trees
at the extreme eastern end of the plantation. Utaeti, who had
accompanied us all the way from Ghát on foot, chose the camping-ground.
Mr. Richardson, who had been behind, was not less astonished when he
found us encamped at so early an hour. But our camels, which seemed to
have been worked during our stay at Ghát, instead of being allowed to
recover their strength by rest and pasture, were in great want of some
good feeding; and there was much aghúl (_Hedysarum Alhajji_) about our
encampment. Towards noon we were visited by several Hogár, or rather
Azkár, who proved a little troublesome, but not so much so as the
townspeople, who caused us a great deal of annoyance, both during the
evening and on the following morning, and gave us some idea of what
might await us further on.
Being annoyed at our delay here, I accompanied two of Mr. Richardson’s
people and the young son of Yusuf Mukni, who wished to go into the town
to buy a fowl. We were followed by two men from among the townspeople,
who wanted to extort a present from me, and one of whom, by bawling out
the characteristic phrase of his creed, made me fear lest he might
succeed in exciting all the people against me. The town was distant from
our encampment a mile and a quarter; and having once reached its wall, I
determined to enter it. The town, or ágherim, forms a tolerably-regular
quadrangle, on an open piece of ground at the eastern foot of the sandy
eminence, and is enclosed by a wall (agadór), built of clay, about five-
and-twenty feet high, and provided with quadrangular towers. We entered
it by the eastern gate, which, being defended by a tower, has its
entrance from the side, and leads first to a small court with a well,
from which another arched passage leads into the streets. Here several
women, of good figure and decently dressed, were seated tranquilly, as
it seemed, enjoying the cool air of the afternoon, for they had no
occupation, nor were they selling anything. Although I was dressed in a
common blue Sudán shirt, and tolerably sunburnt, my fairer complexion
seemed to alarm them; and some of them withdrew into the interior of the
houses crying “lá ilah.” Still I was not molested nor insulted by the
people passing by; and I was pleased that several of them courteously
answered my salute. They were apparently not of pure Berber blood. It
appeared that a good many of the inhabitants had gone to their date-
groves to look after the harvest, as the fruit was just about to ripen;
hence the place, though in good repair, and very clean, had a rather
solitary appearance. There is no commerce in this place as in Ghát, the
whole wealth of the inhabitants consisting in their plantations. Yet
they are said to be better off than the population of Ghát, who are
exposed to great and continual extortions from the Tawárek on account of
their origin, while the people of Bárakat enjoy certain privileges. The
houses were all two or three stories high, and well built, the clay
being nicely polished. A few palm-trees decorate the interior of the
town. It is of still more diminutive size than Ghát, containing about
two hundred houses; but it is built with great regularity.
Having stuck fast awhile in a lane which had no thoroughfare, we at
length got safely out of the little town of Bárakat by the south gate.
It has, I believe, four gates, like Ghát. On this side of the town,
inside of the walls, stands the mosque, a building of considerable size
for so small a place, neatly whitewashed, and provided with a lofty
minaret.
Leaving the town, we took a more southern and circuitous road than that
by which we had come, so that I saw a good deal of the plantation. The
soil is for the most part impregnated with salt; and the wells have
generally brackish water. There was much industry to be seen, and most
of the gardens were well kept; but the wells might easily be more
numerous, and only a small quantity of corn is cultivated. The great
extent to which dukhn, or Guinea corn (“éneli” in Temá-shight[84]), or
_Pennisetum typhoïdeum_, is cultivated here, as well as near Ghát, in
proportion to wheat or barley, seems to indicate the closer and more
intimate connection of this region with Negroland. Some culinary
vegetables also were cultivated; and some, but not many, of the gardens
were carefully fenced with the leaves of the palm-tree. The grove was
animated by numbers of wild pigeons and turtle-doves, bending the
branches of the palm-trees with their wanton play; and a good many asses
were to be seen. Cattle I did not observe.
But far more interesting were the scenes of human life that met my eyes.
Happiness seemed to reign, with every necessary comfort, in this
delightful little grove. There was a great number of cottages, or
tekábber, built of palm-branches and palm-leaves, most of them of
considerable size, and containing several apartments; all of them had
flat roofs. They are inhabited by the Imghád, or Merátha. A great many
of the men seemed at present to be busy elsewhere; but these lightly-
built straggling suburbs were full of children, and almost every woman
carried an infant at her back. They were all black, but well formed, and
infinitely superior to the mixed race of Fezzán. The men wore in general
blue shirts, and a black shawl round the face; the women were only
dressed in the túrkedi, or Sudán-cloth, wound round their body, and
leaving the upper part, including the breasts, uncovered. They
understood generally nothing but Temáshight; and only a few of them
spoke the Háusa language. The men were nearly all smoking.
Having returned to our tent from this pleasant ramble, I did not stay
long in it, but stealing off as secretly as possible, I walked to the
eastern side of the valley, which is here locked up by the steep slope
of the Akakús range. The plain on this side, being much interrupted by
hills crowned with ethel-trees, does not afford a distant prospect. In
this quarter, too, there are a few scattered gardens, with melons and
vegetables, but no palm-trees.
In the evening we were greatly annoyed by some Imghád; and between one
of them and our fiery and inconsiderate Tunisian shushán a violent
dispute arose, which threatened to assume a very serious character. We
were on the watch the whole night.
[Sidenote: Friday, July 26th.]
Having waited a long time for Utaeti, we at length started without him,
passing on our right a beautiful palm-grove, with as many as ten
thousand trees, while our left was bordered by scattered gardens, where
the people were busy in the cool of the morning irrigating the corn and
vegetables, with the assistance of Sudán oxen. They came out to see us
pass by, but without expressing any feeling, hostile or otherwise. After
a mile and a half the plantation ceased, at the bed of a torrent which
contained a pond of rain-water collected from the higher rocky ground,
which here terminates. Further on we passed another small channel,
overgrown with bushes, and remarkable for nothing but its name, which
seems plainly to indicate that this country originally belonged to the
Góber or Háusa nation, for it is still called Korámma, a word which in
the Háusa language denotes the bed of a torrent. To this watercourse
particularly, the general designation was most probably assigned because
in its further progress it widens very considerably, and in some degree
appears as the head of the green bottom of the Valley of Ghát.
But a more luxuriant valley, from three to four miles broad, begins
further on, rich in herbage, and full of ethel-trees, all crowning the
tops of small mounds. Here we encamped near a pond of dirty rain-water,
frequented by great flocks of doves and water-fowl, and a well called
Ízayen, in order to wait for Utaeti. The well was only about three feet
deep, but the water brackish and disagreeable. Our friend came at
length, and it was then decided to march during the night, in order to
reach the Kél-owí; we therefore left our pleasant camping-ground about
half-past nine in the evening, favoured by splendid moonlight. So
interesting was the scene, that, absorbed in my thoughts, I got
considerably in advance of the caravan, and, not observing a small path
which turned off on the right, I followed the larger one till I became
conscious of my solitary situation, and, dismounting, lay down in order
to await my companions. Our caravan, however, had taken the other path,
and my fellow-travellers grew rather anxious about me; but my camel,
which was evidently aware of the caravan ahead of us, would not give up
this direction, which proved to be the right one, and after I had joined
the caravan we were obliged to return to my former path.
Here we found the small Kél-owí caravan encamped in the midst of a
valley well-covered with herbage, near the well Karáda. Our new
companions were perfect specimens of the mixed Berber and Sudán blood,
and, notwithstanding all their faults, most useful as guides. It was two
hours after midnight when we arrived; and after a short repose we
started again tolerably early the next morning.
For the first hour we kept along the valley, when we began to ascend a
narrow path winding round the slope of a steep promontory of the
plateau. The ruins of a castle at the bottom of the valley formed an
object of attraction.
The ascent took us almost an hour, when the defile opened to a sort of
plateau with higher ground and cones to the left. After another ascent
four miles further on, over a rocky slope about 180 ft. high and covered
with sand, we encamped at an early hour, as the heat was beginning to be
felt, in a valley with sidr-trees and grass, called Erázar-n-Ákeru.
A large basin of water, formed by the rains in a small rocky lateral
glen joining the large valley on the west side, afforded a delightful
resting-place to the weary traveller. The basin, in which the negro
slaves of our Kél-owí swam about with immense delight, was about 200 ft.
long and 120 ft. broad, and very deep, having been hollowed out in the
rocks by the violent floods descending occasionally from the heights
above. But on a terrace about 200 ft. higher up the cliffs, I discovered
another basin of not more than about half the diameter of the former,
but likewise of great depth. All along the rocky slope between these two
basins, cascades are formed during heavy rains, which must render this a
delightfully refreshing spot.
[Sidenote: Sunday, July 28th.]
We soon emerged from the valley, and entered a district of very
irregular character, but affording herbage enough for temporary
settlements or encampments of the Imghád, whose asses and goats
testified that the country was not quite uninhabited. Some people of our
caravan saw the guardians of these animals,—negroes, clad in leather
aprons. Against the lower part of the cliffs, which rise abruptly on all
sides, large masses of sand have accumulated, which, as in the case of
the upper valley of the Nile, might induce the observer to believe that
all the higher level was covered with sand, which from thence had been
driven down; but this is not by any means the case.
I had a long conversation this morning with the Tawáti ʿAbd el Káder,
who had come with the pilgrim-caravan as far as Ghát, and, together with
another companion, had attached himself to the Kél-owí, in order to go
to Ágades. He was a smart fellow, of light complexion and handsome
countenance, but had lost one eye in a quarrel. He was armed with a long
gun with a good English lock, of which he was very proud. He had, when
young, seen the Raïs (Major Laing) at Tawát, and knew something about
Europeans, and chiefly Englishmen. Smart and active as this fellow was,
he was so ungallant as to oblige his young female slave, who was at once
his mistress, cook, and servant, to walk the whole day on foot, while he
generally rode.
A little after noon we encamped in the corner of a valley rich in sebót,
and adorned with some talha-trees, at the foot of cliffs of considerable
height, which were to be ascended the following day.
[Sidenote: Monday, July 29th.]
We began our task early in the morning. The path, winding along through
loose blocks on a precipitous ascent, proved very difficult. Several
loads were thrown off the camels; and the boat several times came into
collision with the rocks, which, but for its excellent material, might
have damaged it considerably. The whole of the cliffs consisted of red
sandstone, which was now and then interrupted by clay slate, of a
greenish colour. The ascent took us almost two hours; and from the level
of the plateau we obtained a view of the ridge stretching towards
Arikím, the passage of which was said to be still more difficult. Having
successively ascended and descended a little, we then entered a
tolerably-regular valley, and followed its windings till about noon,
when we once more emerged upon the rugged rocky level, where Amankay,
the well-travelled búzu or mulatto of Tasáwa, brought us a draught of
deliciously cool water, which he had found in a hollow in the rocks.
Here our route meandered in a very remarkable way, so that I could not
lay aside my compass for a moment; and the path was sometimes reduced to
a narrow crevice between curiously-terraced buttresses of rocks.
The ground having at length become more open, we encamped about a
quarter past three o’clock in a small ravine with a little sprinkling of
herbage.
[Illustration]
Here we had reached an elevation of not less than 4000 feet above the
sea,—the greatest elevation of the desert to be passed, or rather of
that part of Africa over which our travels extended. The rugged and
bristling nature of this elevated tract prevented our obtaining any
extensive views. This region, if it were not the wildest and most rugged
of the whole desert, limiting vegetation to only a few narrow crevices
and valleys, would be a very healthy and agreeable abode for man; but it
can only support a few nomadic stragglers. This, I am convinced, is the
famous mountain Tántanah, the abode of the Azkár[85] mentioned by the
early Arabic geographers, although, instead of placing it to the south-
west of Fezzán, they generally give it a southerly direction. I am not
aware that a general name is now given to this region.
But this highest part of the table-land rather forms a narrow “col” or
crest, from which, on the following morning, after a winding march of a
little more than three miles, we began to descend by a most picturesque
passage into a deeper region. At first we saw nothing but high cones
towering over a hollow in the ground; but as we advanced along a lateral
wadi of the valley which we had entered, the scenery assumed a grander
aspect, exhibiting features of such variety as we had not expected to
find in this desert country. While our camels began slowly to descend,
one by one, the difficult passage, I sat down and made the accompanying
sketch of it, which will convey a better idea of this abrupt cessation
of the high sandstone level, with the sloping strata of marl where it is
succeeded by another formation—that of granite, than any verbal
description would do.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
ÉGERI.
July 29th. 1850.]
The descent took us two hours, when we reached the bottom of a narrow
ravine about sixty feet broad, which at first was strewn with large
blocks carried down by occasional floods, but a little further on, had a
floor of fine sand and gravel. Here the valley is joined by a branch
wadi, or another ravine, coming from the north. Near the junction it is
tolerably wide; but a few hundred yards further on, it narrows between
steep precipitous cliffs looking almost like walls erected by the hand
of man, and more than a thousand feet high, and forms there a pond of
rain-water. While I was sketching this remarkable place, I lost the
opportunity of climbing up the wild ravine. The locality was so
interesting that I reluctantly took leave of it, fully intending to
return the following day with the camels when they were to be watered;
but, unfortunately, the alarming news which reached us at our camping-
ground prevented my doing so. I will only observe that this valley,
which is generally called Égeri, is identical with the celebrated valley
Amaïs or Maïs, the name of which became known in Europe many years ago.
[Illustration]
A little beyond the junction of the branch ravine the valley widens to
about one hundred and fifty feet, and becomes overgrown with herbage,
and ornamented with a few talha-trees, and after being joined by another
ravine exhibits also colocynths, and low but wide-spreading ethel-
bushes, and, what was more interesting to us, the ʿashur (or, as the
Háusa people call it, “tunfáfia,” the Kanori “krunka,” the Tawárek
“tursha”), the celebrated, wide-spread, and most important _Asclepias
gigantea_, which had here truly gigantic proportions, reaching to the
height of twenty feet; and being just then in flower, with its white and
violet colours it contributed much to the interest of the scene.
Besides, there was the jadaríyeh, well known to us from the Hammáda, and
the shiʿa or _Artemisia odoratissima_, and a blue crucifera identical, I
think, with the damankádda, of which I shall have to speak repeatedly.
Having gone on a little more than three miles from the watering-place,
we encamped; and the whole expedition found ample room under the wide-
spreading branches of a single ethel-tree, the largest we had yet seen.
Here the valley was about half a mile broad, and altogether had a very
pleasant character.
I was greatly mortified on reflecting that the uncertainty of our
relations in the country, and the precarious protection we enjoyed,
would not allow me to visit Jánet, the most favoured spot in this
mountainous region; but a great danger was suddenly announced to us,
which threatened even to drive us from that attractive spot. An
expedition had been prepared against us by the mighty chieftain Sídi[86]
Jáfel ínek (son of) Sakertáf, to whom a great number of the Imghád
settled thereabouts are subject as bondmen or serfs.
Upon the circumstances of this announcement and its consequences, which
have been fully detailed by the late Mr. Richardson, I shall not dwell,
but will only observe that this transaction made us better acquainted
with the character of each of our new friends. There were three
principal men in the Kél-owí caravan with which we had associated our
fortunes, Ánnur (or properly E’ Núr), Dídi, and Fárreji. Ánnur was a
relative of the powerful Kél-owí chief of the same name, and, in order
to distinguish him from the latter, was generally called Ánnur karamí,
or the little Ánnur. He was of agreeable prepossessing countenance and
of pleasing manners, but without much energy, and anything but warlike.
Dídi and Fárreji were both liberated slaves, but of very different
appearance and character. The former was slim, with marked features
indicating a good deal of cunning; the latter was a tolerably large man,
with broad coarse features which well expressed his character, the
distinguishing trait of which was undisguised malice. When a new demand
was to be put forth, Fárreji took the lead, and, with an impudent air,
plainly stated the case; Dídi kept back, assisting his companion
underhand; and Ánnur was anxious to give to the whole a better
appearance and to soothe our indignation.
The whole affair having been arranged, and the stipulation being made,
that in case the direct road should become impracticable our Kél-owí
were to lead us by a more eastern one, where we should not meet with
anyone, we started in good spirits on the morning of the 1st of August,
and soon emerged from the valley by a southern branch, while the
surrounding cliffs gradually became much lower and flatter. Here we
observed that granite had superseded the sandstone, appearing first in
low bristled ridges crossing the bottom of the valley in parallel lines
running from W.N.W. to E.S.E., and gradually occupying the whole
district, while the sand, which before formed the general substance of
the lower ground, was succeeded by gravel. Our path now wound through
irregular defiles and small plains enclosed by low ridges of granite
blocks, generally bare, but in some places adorned with talha-trees of
fine fresh foliage. The whole country assumed quite a different aspect.
Our day’s journey was pleasantly varied by our meeting with the van of a
large caravan belonging to the wealthy Fezzáni merchant Khuëldi, which
had separated in Aïr on account of the high prices of provisions there.
They carried with them from forty to fifty slaves, most of them females,
the greater part tolerably well-made. Each of our Kél-owí produced from
his provision-bags a measure of dates, and threw them into a cloth,
which the leader of the caravan, a man of grave and honest countenance,
had spread on the ground. A little before noon, we encamped in a sort of
wide but shallow valley called Ejénjer, where, owing to the junction of
several smaller branch-vales collecting the moisture of a large
district, a little sprinkling of herbage was produced, and a necessary
halting-place formed for the caravans coming from the north, before they
enter upon the naked desert, which stretches out towards the south-west
for several days’ journey. The camels were left grazing the whole night,
in order to pick up as large a provision as possible from the scanty
pasture.
[Sidenote: August 2nd.]
We entered upon the first regular day’s march since we left Ghát. After
a stretch of nine miles, an interesting peak called Mount Tiska, rising
to an elevation of about 600 feet, and surrounded by some smaller cones,
formed the conspicuous limit of the rocky ridges. The country became
entirely flat and level, but with a gradual ascent, the whole ground
being formed of coarse gravel; and there was nothing to interrupt the
monotonous plain but a steep ridge, called Mariaw, at the distance of
about five miles to the east.
[Illustration]
The nature of this desert region is well understood by the nomadic
Tawárek or Imóshagh, who regard the Mariaw as the landmark of the open
uninterrupted desert-plain, the “ténere;” and a remarkable song of
theirs, which often raised the enthusiasm of our companions, begins
thus:—
“Mariaw da ténere nís” (We have reached Mariaw and the desert-plain).
The aspect of this uninterrupted plain seemed to inspire our companions;
and with renewed energy we pursued our dreary path till after sunset,
when we encamped upon this bare gravelly plain, entirely destitute of
herbage, and without the smallest fragment of wood for fuel; and I was
glad to get a cup of tea with my cold supper of zummíta. Even in these
hot regions the European requires some warm food or beverage.
The next morning, all the people being eager to get away from this
dreary spot, every small party started as it got ready, without waiting
for the rest, in order to reach as soon as possible the region of the
sand-hills, which we saw before us at the distance of a little more than
five miles, and which promised to the famished camels at least a slight
repast. Herbage was scattered in bunches all about the sides of the
sand-hills; and a number of butter- and dragon-flies greatly relieved
the dreary scene. After a while the sand-hills ranged themselves more on
both sides, while our road led over harder sandy soil, till the highest
range crossed our path, and we began to ascend it, winding along its
lower parts. Granite, lying a few feet under the surface, in several
spots chequered the sand, tinged with a pretty blue.
A little after mid-day we emerged from the sand-hills, and entered a
plain from two to three miles wide, bounded on both sides by sand-hills,
and were here gratified with the view of shifting lakes which the mirage
set before our eyes. Then followed another narrow range of sand-hills,
succeeded by a barren open plain, and then another very considerable
bank of sand, leaning on a granite ridge. After a steep ascent of forty-
five minutes, we reached the highest crest, and obtained an extensive
prospect over the country before us—a desert-plain interspersed by
smaller sand-hills and naked ledges of rock, and speckled with ethel-
bushes half overwhelmed by sand, at the foot of a higher range of sand-
hills. For sand-hills are the landmark of Afalésselez; and the verse of
the desert-song celebrating Mariaw as the landmark of the open gravelly
desert plain, is succeeded by another celebrating the arrival at
Afalésselez and its sand-hills:—
“In-Afalésselez da jéde nís.”
Having long looked down from this barbican of sand, to see whether all
was safe near that important place whence we were to take our supply for
the next stretch of dry desert land, we descended along the south-
western slope, and there encamped.
After a march of little more than four miles the next morning, we
reached the well Falésselez, or Afalésselez. This camping-ground had not
a bit of shade; for the few ethel-bushes, all of them starting forth
from mounds of not less than forty feet elevation, were very low, and
almost covered with sand. Besides, the gravelly ground was covered with
camels’ dung, and impurities of a more disagreeable nature; and there
was not a bit of herbage in the neighbourhood, so that the camels, after
having been watered, had to be driven to a distance of more than eight
miles, where they remained during the night and the following day till
noon, and whence they brought back a supply of herbage for the next
night.
But, notwithstanding its extraordinary dreariness, this place is of the
greatest importance for the caravan-trade, on account of the well, which
affords a good supply of very tolerable water. At first it was very
dirty and discoloured; but it gradually became clearer, and had but
little after-taste. The well was five fathoms deep, and not more than a
foot and a half wide at the top, while lower down it widened
considerably. It is formed of the wood of the ethel-tree. The
temperature of the water, giving very nearly the mean temperature of the
atmosphere in this region, was 77°.
After the camels had gone, our encampment became very lonely and
desolate, and nothing was heard but the sound of ghussub-pounding. The
Kél-owí had encamped at some distance, on the slope of the sand-hills.
It was a very sultry day—the hottest day in this first part of our
journey,—the thermometer, in the very best shade which we were able to
obtain, showing 111°·2 heat, which, combined with the dreary monotony of
the place, was quite exhausting. There was not a breath of air in the
morning; nevertheless it was just here that we remarked the first signs
of our approaching the tropical regions, for in the afternoon the sky
became so thickly overcast with clouds, that we entertained the hope of
being refreshed by a few drops of rain. In the night a heavy gale blew
from the east.
Next day came Utaeti. On his fine méheri, enveloped as he was in his
blue Sudán-cloth, he made a good figure. The reply which he made, when
Mr. Richardson asked him how his father had received the present of the
sword which H.B.M.’s Government had sent him, was characteristic: the
sword, he said, was a small present, and his father had expected to
receive a considerable sum of money into the bargain. He informed us
also that, by our not coming to Arikím, we had greatly disappointed the
Tawárek settled thereabouts.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, August 6th.]
The sand-hills which we ascended after starting were not very high; but
after a while we had to another ascent. Sometimes small ridges of
quartzose sandstone, setting right across our path, at others ethel-
bushes, gave a little variety to the waste; and at the distance of about
eight miles from the well, singularly-shaped conical mounts began to
rise. The eastern road, which is a little more circuitous, is but a few
hours’ distance from this; it leads through a valley at the foot of a
high conical mount, with temporary ponds of rain-water, and herbage
called Shambakésa, which about noon we passed at some distance on our
left.
In the afternoon we came in sight of a continuous range of heights ahead
of us. The whole region exhibited an interesting intermixture of granite
and sandstone formation, white and red sandstone protruding in several
places, and the ground being strewn with fragments of granite and
gneiss. Passing at one time over gravel, at another over rocky ground
strewn with pebbles, we encamped at length in a sort of shallow valley
called Taghárebén, on the north side of a very remarkable mass of
curiously-shaped sandstone blocks, heaped together in the most singular
manner, and rising altogether to a height of about 150 feet. On
inspecting it more closely, I found that it consisted of four distinct
buttresses, between which large masses of loose sand had collected, the
sandstone being of a beautiful white colour, and in a state of the
utmost disintegration.
After a weary day’s march, the camping-ground, adorned as it was with
some fine talha-trees, and surrounded with small ridges and detached
masses of rock, on which now depended the beauty of the scene, cheered
our minds, and fitted us for another long day’s work. Soon after we
started, the ground became rugged and stony, and full of ridges of sand-
stone, bristling with small points and peaks. In this wild and rugged
ground, our people amused themselves and us with hunting down a lizard,
which tried to escape from the hands of its pursuers in the crevices of
the rocky buttresses. Then followed broad shallow valleys, at times
overgrown with a little herbage, but generally very barren; winding
along them we turned round a larger cluster of heights which seemed to
obstruct our route. Bare and desolate as the country appears, it is
covered, as well as the whole centre of the desert, with large herds of
wild oxen (_Antilope bubalis_), which rove about at large, and,
according as they are more or less hunted, linger in favoured districts
or change their haunts. Our men tried to catch them, but were
unsuccessful, the animal, clumsy and sluggish as it appears, climbing
the rocks with much more ease than men unaccustomed to this sort of
sport, and, owing to the ruggedness of the ground, being soon lost sight
of.
At five o’clock in the afternoon the heights on our left rose to a
greater elevation, as much as 1000 feet, bristling with cones, and
formed more picturesque masses. Resting on the spurs of the mountain-
range was a peculiar knot of cliffs, ridges of rocks, and isolated
perpendicular pillars, through which our road led with a gradual ascent
till we reached the highest ground, and then descended into a shallow
valley furnished with a tolerable supply of herbage and a few talha-
trees, some of which, with their young leaves, soon attracted the
attention of the famished camels. The poor animals were left grazing all
night, which recruited their strength a little. These long stretches
were fatiguing both for man and beast; and they were the more trying for
the traveller, as, instead of approaching by them in long strides the
wished-for regions to the south, there was scarcely any advance at all
in that direction, the whole route leading to the west.
[Sidenote: Thursday, August 8th.]
After a mile and a half’s march the country became more open and free,
and those ridges of granite rock which had been characteristic of the
region just passed over ceased; but ahead of us considerable mountain-
masses were seen, the whole mountainous district, in which the long
range called Isétteti is conspicuous, being named Ánahef. After a march
of about ten miles, a path branched off from our road towards the west,
leading to a more favoured place, called Tádent[87], where the moisture
collected by the mountain-masses around seems to produce a richer
vegetation, so that it is the constant residence of some Azkár families;
it is distant from this place about sixteen miles. Here some advanced
heights approach the path, and more talha-trees appear; and further on
the bottom of the fiumara was richly overgrown with bú rékkebah (_Avena
Forskalii_), grass very much liked by the camels, and which we had not
observed before on our route. The country ahead of us formed a sort of
defile, into which I thought we should soon enter, when suddenly, behind
the spur of a ridge projecting into the plain on our left, we changed
our direction, and entering a wide valley inclosed by two picturesque
ranges of rocks, we there encamped.
The valley is called Nghákeli, and is remarkable as well on account of
its picturesque appearance as because it indicates the approach to a
more favoured region. Besides being richly overgrown with luxuriant
herbage of different species, as sebót, bú rékkebah, shiʿa, and adorned
with fine talha-trees, it exhibited the first specimens of the
_Balanites Ægyptiaca_ (or “hajilíj,” as it is called by the Arabs,
“áddwa” by the Háusa people), the rope-like roots of which, loosened by
the torrent which at times sweeps along the valley, grew to an immense
length over the ground. I walked up the valley to a distance of two
miles. Compared with the arid country we had been travelling over
latterly, it made upon me just the same impression which the finest
spots of Italy would produce on a traveller visiting them from the north
of Europe. The Kél-owí had chosen the most shady talha-tree for a few
hours’ repose; and I sat down a moment in their company. They gave me a
treat of their palatable fura, or ghussub-water, the favourite (and in a
great many cases the only) dish of the Absenáwa.
In the evening Mr. Richardson bought from some sportsmen a quantity of
the meat of the wadán, or (as the Tawárek call it) aúdád (_Ovis
tragelaphos_), an animal very common in the mountainous districts of the
desert, and very often found in company with the wild ox. As for myself,
I kept my tent, filling up from my memorandum-book my last day’s
journal, and then, full of the expectation that we were now about to
enter more pleasant regions, lay down on my hard couch.
[Footnote 84: This word “éneli” occurs in the Travels of Ebn Batúta.]
[Footnote 85: See above, p. 229.]
[Footnote 86: The appellative Sídi appears to be an honourable
distinction among the Hogár; and the messenger who brought us this news
generally called the chieftain of whom he spoke only by this name, Sídi.
This is also the name by which Sultan Shafo’s father is generally
called. The whole tribe of the Urághen seems even to have the surname
Síd-azkár. To what extent this name Sídi is abused in Timbúktu, I shall
have occasion to observe in the further course of my travels.]
[Footnote 87: In Mr. Richardson’s Journal, vol. i. p. 194., this place
has been confounded with Janet, the name having been probably written in
the MS. “Tanet,” a form used also by Mr. Overweg, and which seems to be
verified.]
CHAP. XII.
DANGEROUS APPROACH TO ASBEN.
[Sidenote: Friday, August 9th.]
There had been much talk about our starting at midnight; but,
fortunately, we did not get off before daylight, so that I was able
to continue my exact observations of the route, which was now to cross
the defile observed yesterday afternoon, which already began to
impart quite a characteristic aspect to the country. There were some
beautifully-shaped cones rising around it, while beyond them an uneven
tract stretched out, crowded with small elevations, which gradually rose
to greater height; among them one peak, of very considerable elevation,
was distinguished by its graceful form, and seemed worthy of a sketch.
Attached to it was a lower rocky range, with a very marked horizontal
crest, while running parallel to our path were small ledges of gneiss.
After a march of seven miles and a half, we ascended a considerable
range of rugged eminences, from the crest of which we followed a steep
descent into an uneven rocky tract intersected by several shallow beds
of torrents; and then, just as the heat began, we reached the valley of
Arókam, where we encamped at about half an hour’s distance from the
well, and opposite to a branch-wadi through which lay our next day’s
route. In the afternoon I climbed the highest of the cones rising above
the cliffs, but without obtaining any distant prospect.
[Illustration]
[Sidenote: Saturday, August 10th.]
The active buzu Amankay, who early in the morning went once more to the
well in order to fill a few water-skins, brought the news that a
considerable caravan, consisting chiefly of Aníslimen or Merabetín from
Tintaghodé, had arrived at the well the evening before, on their road to
Ghát, and that they protested against our visiting their country, and
still more against our approaching their town. Notwithstanding the bad
disposition of these people towards us, I managed to induce one of them,
who visited our encampment, to take charge of letters addressed by me to
Háj Ibrahim, in Ghát, which I am glad to say arrived safely in Europe.
Amankay reported to us that on his way to the well he had observed a
small palm-tree.
We started rather late in the morning, entering the branch-wadi, which
proved to be far more considerable than it seemed, and rich in talha-
trees. In this way we kept winding along several valleys, till, after a
march of three miles, we ascended and crossed a very interesting defile,
or a slip in the line of elevation, bordered on both sides by a terraced
and indented slope, the highest peaks of the ridge rising to not less
than a thousand feet, while their general elevation was about six
hundred feet. Mr. Overweg recognized this as gneiss. Close beyond this
defile, at the foot of mounds of disintegrated granite, we encamped, to
our great astonishment, a little after eight o’clock in the morning; but
the reason of this short march was, that our companions, on account of
the arrival of the caravan above mentioned, did not choose to stop at
our former encampment, else they would have rested there to-day. In the
afternoon a high wind arose, which upset our tent.
[Illustration]
[Sidenote: Sunday, August 11th.]
After a march of little more than two miles over an irregular tract of
granite, in a state of great disintegration, intersected by crests of
gneiss, we obtained from a higher level an interesting view over the
whole region, and saw that beyond the hilly ground of broken granite a
large plain of firm gravelly soil spread out, surrounded by a circle of
higher mounts. Then followed a succession of flat shallow valleys
overgrown with sebót and talha-trees, till the ridges on the right and
left (the latter rising to about 800 feet) approached each other,
forming a sort of wider passage or defile. The spur of the range to the
left with its strongly marked and indented crest, formed quite an
interesting feature.
[Illustration]
Beyond this passage we entered a bare gravelly plain, from which rose a
few detached mounts, followed by more continuous ranges forming more or
less regular valleys. The most remarkable of these is the valley
Aséttere, which in its upper course, where it is called Ákafa, is
supplied by the famous well, Tajétterat[88]; but as we were sufficiently
supplied with water from Arókam, and as the well Aïsalen was near, we
left it on one side.
We encamped at length in a valley joined by several branch-vales, and
therefore affording a good supply of herbage, which the Kél-owí were
anxious to collect as a supply for the journey over the entirely bare
tract to Asïu. As for ourselves, one of our servants being utterly unfit
for work, we could not lay in a supply. We had been rather unfortunate
with this fellow; for having hired him in Múrzuk, he was laid up with
the guineaworm from the very day that we left Ghát, and was scarcely of
any use at all. This disease is extremely frequent among people
travelling along this route; Amankay also was suffering from it, and at
times became quite a burden. It attacked James Bruce even after his
return to Europe; and I always dreaded it more than any other disease,
during my travels in Central Africa; but fortunately, by getting a less
serious one, which I may call sore legs, I got rid of the causes which I
am sure, when acting in a stronger degree, produce the vena.
About sunset I ascended the eastern cliffs, which are very considerable,
and from the highest peak, which rose to an elevation of more than 1200
feet above the bottom of the valley, obtained an extensive view. The
whole formation consists of granite, and its kindred forms of mica,
quartz, and felspar. The bottom of the valley bore evident traces of a
small torrent which seems to refresh the soil occasionally; and the same
was the case with several small ravines which descend from the south-
eastern cliffs.
[Sidenote: Monday, August 12th.]
Our route followed the windings of the valley, which, further on,
exhibited more ethel- than talha-trees, besides detached specimens of
the _Asclepias_. After a march of four miles and a half, we came to two
wells about four feet deep, and took in a small supply of water. The
granite formation at the foot of the cliffs on our left was most
beautiful, looking very like syenite. While we were taking in the water,
flocks of wildfowl (_Pterocles_) were flying over our heads, and
expressed by repeated cries their dissatisfaction at our disturbing
their solitary retreat. The ethel, the talha, and the áddwa, or abórak,
enliven these secluded valleys.
Delighted by the report of Amankay, who came to meet us, that he had
succeeded in detaining the caravan of the Tinýlkum at Aïsala, where they
were waiting for us, we cheerfully continued our march; but before we
reached the place the whole character of the country changed, the cliffs
being craggy and split into huge blocks heaped upon each other in a
truly Cyclopean style, such as only Nature can execute, while the entire
hollow was covered with granite masses, scarcely allowing a passage.
Descending these, we got sight of the encampment of the caravan, in a
widening of the hollow; and after paying our compliments to all the
members of this motley band, we encamped a little beyond, in a recess of
the western cliffs.
The Tinýlkum[89] as well as Bóro Serki-n-turáwa were very scantily
provided. They had lost so much time on the road on our account, that it
was necessary, as well as just, to leave them part of the provisions
which they were carrying for us. All our luggage we found in the best
state. Very much against their will, our companions had been supplied on
the road with the flesh of nine camels, which had succumbed to the
fatigues of the march; and some of them, and especially our energetic
friend Háj ʿOmar, had obtained a tolerable supply by hunting: besides
wadáns they had killed also several gazelles, though we had scarcely
seen any.
They had been lingering in this place four days, and were most anxious
to go on. But we had a great deal to do; for all our luggage was to be
repacked, all the water-skins to be filled, and herbage and wood to be
collected for the road. Besides Ibrahim, who was lame and useless,
Overweg and myself had only two servants, one of whom (Mohammed, the
liberated Tunisian slave) was at times a most insolent rascal.
Besides we were pestered by the Kél-owí and by Utaeti, and I got into a
violent dispute with Fárreji, the shameless freed-slave of Lusu; still I
managed on the morning of the following day to rove about a little. Just
above the well rises a confused mass of large granite blocks, the lowest
range of which was covered with Tefínagh inscriptions, one of which I
copied. It was written with uncommon accuracy and neatness, and if found
near the coast would be generally taken for Punic.[90] I was obliged to
be cautious, as there was a great deal of excitement and irritation in
the caravan, and from what had previously taken place all the way from
Múrzuk, everybody regarded us as the general purveyors, and cherished
the ardent hope that at last it would be his good fortune, individually,
to get possession of our property.
[Illustration]
In the afternoon the Tinýlkum started in advance, and we followed them,
the hollow gradually widening and becoming clothed with large knots of
low ethel-bushes. At the point where this valley joins another, and
where a large quantity of herbage bedecked the ground, we found our
friends encamped, and chose our ground a little beyond them, near a low
cliff of granite rocks. All the people were busily employed cutting
herbage for the journey, while Mr. Richardson at length succeeded in
satisfying Utaeti, who was to return. He had been begging most
importunately from me; and by way of acknowledging my obligations to him
I presented him, on parting, with a piece of white muslin and a red
sásh, together with something for Hatíta.
These parties were scarcely quieted when others took their place, urging
their pretensions to our acknowledgments; and we had just started the
next day when Bóro Serki-n-turáwa despatched, underhand, my smart friend
the Tawáti ʿAbd el Káder, with full instructions to give me a lecture on
his boundless power and influence in the country which we were fast
approaching. I was aware of this before, and knew that, in our situation
as unprotected travellers in a new country, we ought to have secured his
friendly disposition from the beginning; but the means of the expedition
being rather limited, Mr. Richardson had made it a principle never to
give till compelled by the utmost necessity, when the friendly
obligation connected with the present was, if not destroyed, at least
greatly diminished.
The structure of the valley soon became irregular, and the character of
the country more desolate, a circumstance which seems to be expressed by
its name, Ikadémmelrang. All was granite in a state of the utmost
disintegration, and partly reduced to gravel, while detached cones were
rising in all directions. Marching along over this dreary and desolate
country, we reached, at half past two in the afternoon, after a gradual
and almost imperceptible ascent, the highest level of the desert plain,
from whence the isolated rocky cones and ridges look like so many
islands rising from the sea. A sketch which I made of one of these
mounts will give an idea of their character.
[Illustration]
After a march of twelve hours and a half, which I would have gladly
doubled, provided our steps had been directed in a straight line towards
the longed-for regions of Negroland, we encamped on hard ground, so that
we had great difficulty in fixing the pegs of our tents. The sky was
overcast with thick clouds; but our hopes of a refreshing rain were
disappointed.
[Sidenote: Thursday, August 15th.]
The character of the country continued the same, though the weather was
so foggy that the heights at some distance were quite enveloped, and
became entirely invisible. This was a sure indication of our approaching
tropical climes. After a march of three miles and a half, the ground
became more rugged for a short time, but was soon succeeded by a
gravelly plain. The sky had become thickly clouded; and in the afternoon
a high wind arose, succeeded, about two o’clock, by heavy rain, and by
distant thunder, while the atmosphere was exceedingly heavy, and made us
all feel drowsy.
It was three o’clock when we arrived at the Marárraba[91], the “half-
way” between Ghát and Aïr, a place regarded with a kind of religious awe
by the natives, who in passing place each a stone upon the mighty
granite blocks which mark the spot. To our left we had irregular rocky
ground, with a few elevations rising to greater height, and ahead a very
remarkable granite crest, sometimes rising, at others descending, with
its slopes enveloped in sand up to the very top. This ridge, which is
called Giféngwetáng, and which looks very much like an artificial wall
erected between the dry desert and the more favoured region of the
tropics, we crossed further on through an opening like a saddle, and
among sand-hills where the slaves of our companions ran about to pick up
and collect the few tufts of herbage that were scattered over the
surface, in order to furnish a fresh mouthful to the poor wearied
animals. At four o’clock the sand-hills ceased, and were succeeded by a
wide pebbly plain, on which, after six miles travelling, we encamped.
Our encampment was by no means a quiet one; and to any one who paid due
attention to the character and disposition of the people, serious
indications of a storm, which was gathering over us, became visible.
Mohammed Bóro, who had so often given vent to his feelings of revenge
for the neglect with which he had been treated, was all fire and fury;
and stirring up the whole encampment, he summoned all the people to a
council, having, as he said, received intelligence that a large party of
Hogár was coming to Asïu. Not having paid much attention to the report
about Sídi Jáfel’s expedition, I became anxious when made aware of the
man’s fury; for I knew the motives which actuated him.
[Sidenote: Friday, August 16th.]
We started early. Gravelly and pebbly grounds succeeded each other, the
principal formation being granite; but when, after a march of about
thirteen miles, we passed the narrow sandy spur of a considerable ridge
approaching our left, a fine species of white marble became visible. We
then passed a rugged district, of peculiar and desolate appearance,
called Ibéllakang, and crossed a ridge of gneiss covered with gravel.
Here, while a thunder-storm was rising in the east, our caravan, to our
great regret, divided, the Tinýlkum turning off towards the east, in
order, as we were told, to look for a little herbage among the sand-
hills. Meanwhile thick, heavy clouds, which had been discharging a great
quantity of rain towards the east, broke over us at a quarter past four
o’clock in the afternoon, when we were just in the act of crossing
another rocky crest covered with gravel. A violent sand-storm, followed
by heavy rain, which was driven along by a furious gale, soon threw the
caravan into the utmost confusion, and made all observation impossible;
but fortunately it did not last long.
It was on descending from this crest, while the weather cleared up, that
the Háusa slaves, with a feeling of pride and joy, pointed out in the
far distance “dútsi-n-Absen” (Mount Absen). Here the granite formation
had been gradually succeeded by sandstone and slate. This district,
indeed, seems to be the line of demarcation between two different zones.
At twenty minutes past six o’clock we at length encamped, but were again
in the saddle at eleven o’clock at night, and in pale moonlight, sleepy
and worn out as we were, began a dreadful night’s march. But altogether
it proved to be a wise measure taken by the Kél-owí, who had reason to
be afraid lest the Hogár, of whom they appeared to have trustworthy
news, might overtake us before we reached the wells of Asïu, and then
treat us as they pleased. Our companions, who were of course themselves
not quite insensible to fatigue, as night advanced became very uncertain
in their direction, and kept much too far to the south. When day dawned,
our road lay over a flat, rocky, sand-stone surface, while we passed on
our left a locality remarkable for nothing but its name, Efínagha.[92]
We then descended from the rocky ground into the extremely shallow
valley of Asïu, overgrown with scanty herbage of a kind not much liked
by the camels. Here we encamped, near a group of four wells, which still
belong to the Azkár, while a little further on there are others which
the Kélowí regard as their own property. How it was that we did not
encamp near the latter I cannot say. But the people were glad to have
got so far. The wells, or at least two of them, afforded an abundant
supply of water; but it was not of a good quality, and had a peculiar
taste, I think on account of the iron ore with which it was impregnated.
This, then, was Asïu[93], a place important for the caravan-trade at all
times, on account of the routes from Ghadámes and from Tawát joining
here, and which did so even as far back as the time when the famous
traveller Ebn Batúta returned from his enterprising journey to Sudán
homewards by way of Tawát (in the year 1353-4). Desolate and melancholy
as it appeared, it was also an important station to us, as we thought
that we had now left the most difficult part of the journey behind us.
For though I myself had some forebodings of a danger threatening us, we
had no idea that the difficulties which we should have to encounter were
incomparably greater than those which we had passed through. Mr.
Richardson supposed that because we had reached the imaginary frontier
of the territories of the Azkár and Kél-owí, we were beyond the reach of
any attack from the north. With the utmost obstinacy he reprobated as
absurd any supposition that such a frontier might be easily crossed by
nomadic roving tribes, asserting that these frontiers in the desert were
respected much more scrupulously than any frontier of Austria,
notwithstanding the innumerable host of its landwaiters. But he was soon
to be undeceived on all the points of his desert-diplomacy, at his own
expense and that of us all.
There was very little attraction for roving about in this broad gravelly
plain. Now and then a group of granite blocks interrupted the monotonous
level, bordered on the north by a gradually-ascending rocky ground,
while the southern border rose to a somewhat higher elevation.
Desolate as the spot was, and gloomy as were our prospects, the arrival
of the Tinýlkum in the course of the afternoon afforded a very cheerful
sight, and inspired some confidence, as we felt that our little party
had once more resumed its strength. All the people, however, displayed
an outward show of tranquillity and security, with the exception of
Serki-n-turáwa, who was bustling about in a state of the utmost
excitement. Watering the camels and filling the waterskins employed the
whole day.
[Sidenote: Sunday, August 18th.]
After a two hours’ march we began to ascend, first gradually, then more
steeply, all the rocks hereabouts consisting of slate, greatly split and
rent, and covered with sand. In twenty-five minutes we reached the
higher level, which consisted of pebbly ground with a ridge running, at
the distance of about four miles, to the west.
While we were quietly pursuing our road, with the Kél-owí in the van,
the Tinýlkum marching in the rear, suddenly Mohammed the Sfaksi came
running behind us, swinging his musket over his head, and crying
lustily, “He awelád, awelád bú, ʿadúna já” (“Lads, lads, our enemy has
come”), and spreading the utmost alarm through the whole of the caravan.
Everybody seized his arms, whether musket, spear, sword, or bow; and
whosoever was riding jumped down from his camel. Some time elapsed
before it was possible, amid the noise and uproar, to learn the cause of
the alarm. At length it transpired. A man named Mohammed, belonging to
the caravan, having remained a little behind at the well, had observed
three Tawárek mounted on mehára approaching at a rapid rate; and while
he himself followed the caravan, he left his slave behind to see whether
others were in the rear. The slave, after a while, overtook him with the
news that several more camels had become visible in the distance; and
then Mohammed and his slave hurried on to bring us the intelligence.
Even Mr. Richardson, who, being rather hard of hearing, judged of our
situation only from the alarm, descended from his slender little she-
camel and cocked his pistols. A warlike spirit seemed to have taken
possession of the whole caravan; and I am persuaded, that had we been
attacked at this moment, all would have fought valiantly. But such is
not the custom of freebooting parties: they will cling artfully to a
caravan, and first introduce themselves in a tranquil and peaceable way,
till they have succeeded in disturbing the little unity which exists in
such a troop, composed as it is of the most different elements; they
then gradually throw off the mask, and in general attain their object.
When at length a little tranquillity had been restored, and plenty of
powder and shot had been distributed among those armed with firelocks,
the opinion began to prevail, that, even if the whole of the report
should be true, it was not probable that we should be attacked by
daylight. We therefore continued our march with a greater feeling of
security, while a body of archers was despatched to learn the news of a
small caravan which was coming from Sudán, and marching at some distance
from us, behind a low ridge of rocks. They were a few Tébu, with ten
camels and between thirty and forty slaves, unconsciously going to meet
a terrible fate; for we afterwards learned that the Imghád of the Hogár,
or rather the Hadánara, disappointed at our having passed through their
country without their getting anything from us, had attacked this little
troop, murdering the Tébu, and carrying off their camels and slaves.
While the caravan was going slowly on, I was enabled to allow my méheri
a little feeding on the nesí (_Panicum grossularium_, much liked by
camels) in a spot called Tahasása. At noon we began to ascend on rocky
ground, and, after a very gradual ascent of three miles, reached the
higher level, strewn with pebbles, but exhibiting further on a rugged
slaty soil, till we reached the valley Fénorang.[94] This valley, which
is a little less than a mile in breadth and two in length, is famous for
its rich supply of herbage, principally of the kind called bú-rékkeba,
and the far-famed el hád (the camel’s dainty), and is on this account an
important halting-place for the caravans coming from the north, after
having traversed that naked part of the desert, which produces scarcely
any food for the camel. Notwithstanding, therefore, the danger which
threatened us, it was determined to remain here not only this, but also
the following day.
As soon as the loads were taken off their backs, the half-starved camels
fell to devouring eagerly the fine herbage offered them. Meanwhile we
encamped as close together as possible, preparing ourselves for the
worst, and looking anxiously around in every direction. But nobody was
to be seen till the evening, when the three men on their mehára made
their appearance, and, being allowed to approach the caravan, made no
secret of the fact that a greater number was behind them.
Aware of what might happen, our small troop had all their arms ready, in
order to repulse any attack; but the Kél-owí and the few Azkár who were
in our caravan kept us back, and, after a little talk, allowed the
visitors to lie down for the night near our encampment, and even
solicited our hospitality in their behalf. Nevertheless all of them well
knew that the strangers were freebooters, who could not but have bad
designs against us; and the experienced old Awed el Khér, the sheikh of
the Káfila, came expressly to us, warning and begging us to be on our
guard, while Bóro Serki-n-turáwa began to play a conspicuous part,
addressing the Kél-owí and Tinýlkum in a formal speech, and exhorting
them to stand by us. Everybody was crying for powder; and nobody could
get enough. Our clever but occasionally very troublesome servant
Mohammed conceived a strategical plan, placing on the north side of the
two tents the four pieces of the boat, behind each of which one of us
had to take his station in case of an attack.
Having had some experience of freebooters’ practices in my former
wanderings, I knew that all this was mere farce and mockery, and that
the only way of ensuring our safety would have been to prevent these
scouts from approaching us at all. We kept watch the whole night; and of
course the strangers, seeing us well on our guard, and the whole caravan
still in high spirits and in unity, ventured upon nothing.
In the morning our three guests (who, as I made out, did not belong to
the Azkár, but were Kél-fadé from the northern districts of Aïr) went
slowly away, but only to join their companions, who had kept at some
distance beyond the rocky ridge which bordered or, rather, interrupted
the valley to the westward. There some individuals of the caravan, who
went to cut herbage, found the fresh traces of nine camels. In spite of
outward tranquillity, there was much matter for anxiety and much
restlessness in the caravan, and suddenly an alarm was given that the
camels had been stolen; but fortunately it proved to be unfounded.
ʿAbd el Káder, the Tawáti of whom I have spoken above, trying to take
advantage of this state of things, came to Mr. Overweg, and urgently
pressed him to deposit everything of value with Awed el Khér, the Kél-
owí, and something, “of course,” with him also. This was truly very
disinterested advice; for if anything had happened to us, they would of
course have become our heirs. In the evening we had again three guests,
not, however, the same as before, but some of their companions, who
belonged to the Hadánara, one of the divisions of the Azkár.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, August 20th.]
At an early hour we started with an uneasy feeling. With the first dawn
the true believers had been called together to prayer; and the bond
which united the Mohammedan members of the caravan with the Christian
travellers had been loosened in a very conspicuous manner. Then the
encampment broke up, and we set out—not, however, as we had been
accustomed to go latterly, every little party starting off as soon as
they were ready, but all waiting till the whole caravan had loaded their
camels, when we began our march in close order, first along the valley,
then entering upon higher ground, sometimes gravelly, at others rocky.
The range to our right, here a little more than a mile distant, bears
different names corresponding to the more prominent parts into which it
is separated by hollows or saddles, the last cone towards the south
being called Timázkaren, a name most probably connected with that of the
Azkár tribe, while another is named Tin-dúrdurang. The Tarki or Amóshagh
is very expressive in names; and whenever the meaning of all these
appellations shall be brought to light, I am sure we shall find many
interesting significations. Though I paid a good deal of attention to
their language, the Tarkíyeh or Temáshight, I had not leisure enough to
become master of the more difficult and obsolete terms; and, of course,
very few even among themselves can at present tell the exact meaning of
a name derived from ancient times.
At length we had left behind us that remarkable ridge, and entering
another shallow valley full of young herbage, followed its windings, the
whole presenting a very irregular structure, when suddenly four men were
seen ahead of us on an eminence, and instantly a troop of lightly-armed
people, amongst them three archers, were dispatched, as it seemed, in
order to reconnoitre, marching in regular order straight for the
eminence.
Being in the first line of our caravan, and not feeling so sure on the
camel as on foot, I dismounted, and marched forward, leading my méheri
by the nose-cord, and with my eyes fixed upon the scene before us. But
how much was I surprised when I saw two of the four unknown individuals
executing a wild sort of armed dance together with the Kél-owí, while
the others were sitting quietly on the ground. Much perplexed, I
continued to move slowly on, when two of the men who had danced suddenly
rushed upon me, and grasping the rope of my camel, asked for tribute.
Quite unprepared for such a scene under such circumstances, I grasped my
pistol, when, just at the right time, I learnt the reason and character
of this curious proceeding.
The little eminence on the top of which we had observed the people, and
at the foot of which the armed dance was performed, is an important
locality in the modern history of the country which we had reached. For
here it was that when the Kél-owí (at that time an unmixed and pure
Berber tribe, as it seems) took possession of the country of Old Góber
with its capital, Tin-shamán, a compromise or covenant was entered into
between the red conquerors and the black natives, that the latter should
not be destroyed, and that the principal chief of the Kél-owí should
only be allowed to marry a black woman. And as a memorial of this
transaction, the custom has been preserved, that when caravans pass the
spot where the covenant was entered into, near the little rock Máket-n-
ikelán[95], “the slaves” shall be merry and be authorized to levy upon
their masters a small tribute. The black man who stopped me was the
“serki-n-baï” (the principal or chief of the slaves).
These poor merry creatures, while the caravan was proceeding on its
march, executed another dance; and the whole would have been an incident
of the utmost interest, if our minds and those of all the well-disposed
members of the caravan had not been greatly oppressed and vexed with sad
forebodings of mishap. The fear was so great that the amiable and
sociable Slimán (one of the Tinýlkum, who at a later period manifested
his sympathy with us in our misfortunes) begged me most urgently to keep
more in the middle of the caravan, as he was afraid that one of those
ruffians might suddenly rush upon me, and pierce me with his spear.
The soil hereabouts consisted entirely of bare gravel; but further on it
became more uneven, and broken by granite rocks, in the cavities among
which our people found some rain-water. The tract on our right was
called Tisgáwade, while the heights on our left bore the name Tin-
ébbeke. I here rode awhile by the side of Émeli, a Tarki of the tribe of
the Azkár, a gentleman both in his dress and manners, who never
descended from the back of his camel. Although he appeared not to be
very hostile to the robbers on our track, and was certainly aware of
their intention, I liked him on account of his distinguished manners,
and, under more favourable circumstances, should have been able to
obtain a great deal of information from him. But there was with him a
rather disagreeable and malicious fellow named Mohammed (or, as the
Tawárek pronounce it, Mokhammed), from Yánet or Jánet, who, in the
course of the difficulties which befell us, did us a great deal of
mischief, and was fully disposed to do us much more.
The country, which in the meantime had become more open, after a while
became bordered ahead by elevations in the form of a semi-circle, while
we began to ascend. The weather had been extremely sultry and close the
whole day; and at last, about three o’clock in the afternoon, the storm
broke out, but with less violence than on the day before our arrival at
Asïu.
We encamped at length on an open gravelly plain surrounded by ridges of
rocks, without pitching our tents; for our unwished-for guests had in
the face of the Tinýlkum openly declared that their design was to kill
us, but that they wanted first to get more assistance. Notwithstanding
this, Mr. Richardson even to-night was obliged to feed these ruffians;
such is the weakness of a caravan—although in our case the difference of
religion, and consequent want of unity, could not but greatly contribute
to paralyze its strength. I here heard that some of the party were
Imghád from Tádomat.
Under such circumstances, and in such a state of feeling, it was
impossible to enjoy the sport and frolics of the slaves (that is, of the
domestic slaves) of the Kél-owí, who with wild gestures and cries were
running about the encampment to exact from all the free individuals of
the caravan their little Máket-n-ikelán tribute, receiving from one a
small quantity of dates, from another a piece of muslin or a knife, from
another a shirt. Everybody was obliged to give something, however small.
Notwithstanding our long day’s march, Overweg and I found it necessary
to be on the watch the whole night.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, August 21st.]
Starting at an early hour, we ascended very rugged ground, the rocky
ridges on both sides often meeting together and forming irregular
defiles. After a march of five miles and a half, we reached the highest
elevation, and obtained a view over the whole district, which, being
sprinkled as it were with small granitic mounds, had a very desolate
appearance; but in the distance to our left an interesting mountain-
group was to be seen, of which the accompanying sketch will give some
idea.
[Illustration]
Having crossed several small valleys, we reached, a little before ten
o’clock, one of considerable breadth, richly overgrown with herbage, and
exhibiting evident traces of a violent torrent which had swept over it
the day before, while with us but little rain had fallen. It is called
Jínninau, and improved as we advanced, our path sometimes keeping along
it, sometimes receding to a little distance; in some places the growth
of the trees, principally the _Balanites_ or abórak, was indeed splendid
and luxuriant. Unfortunately we had not sufficient leisure and mental
ease to collect all the information which, under more favourable
circumstances, would have been within our reach. Thus, I learnt that
magnetic ironstone was found in the mountains to our left. After noon
the valley divided into three branches, the easternmost of which is the
finest and richest in vegetation, while the western one, called Tiyút,
has likewise a fine supply of trees and herbage; we took the middle one,
and a little further on, where it grew narrower, encamped.
It was a very pretty and picturesque camping-ground. At the foot of our
tents was a rocky bed of a deep and winding torrent bordered by most
luxuriant talha- and abórak-trees (_Balanites Ægyptiaca_), and forming a
small pond where the water, rushing down from the rocks behind, had
collected; the fresh green of the trees, enlivened by recent rains,
formed a beautiful contrast with the dark-yellowish colour of the rocks
behind. Notwithstanding our perilous situation, I could not help
straying about, and found, on the blocks over the tebki or pond, some
coarse rock-sculptures representing oxen, asses, and a very tall animal
which, according to the Kél-owí, was intended to represent the giraffe.
While I was enjoying the scenery of the place, Dídi stept suddenly
behind me, and tried to throw me down, but not succeeding, laid his
hands from behind upon the pistols which I wore in my belt, trying, by
way of experiment, whether I was able to use them notwithstanding his
grasp; but turning sharply round, I freed myself from his hold, and told
him that no effeminate person like himself should take me. He was a
cunning and insidious fellow; and I trusted him the least of our Kél-owí
friends. Ánnur warned us that the freebooters intended to carry off the
camels that we ourselves were riding, in the night; and it was fortunate
that we had provided for the emergency, and were able to fasten them to
strong iron rings.
While keeping the first watch during the night, I was enabled by the
splendid moonlight to address a few lines in pencil to my friends at
home.
[Sidenote: Thursday, August 22nd.]
The Kél-owí having had some difficulty in finding their camels, we did
not move at an early hour. To our great astonishment we crossed the
rocky bed of the torrent, and entered an irregular defile where a little
further on we passed another pond of rain-water. When at length we
emerged from the rocks, we reached a very high level, whence we had a
clear prospect over the country before us. Four considerable ranges of
mountains were clearly distinguishable in the distance, forming an
_ensemble_ of which the accompanying sketch will give an idea. We then
entered valleys clothed with a fine fresh verdure sprinkled with
flowers, and with a luxuriant vegetation such as we had not seen before.
The senna-plant (_Cassia senna_) appeared in tolerable quantity.
Mountains and peaks were seen all around in a great variety of forms;
and at twenty minutes past nine we had a larger mountain-mass on one
side, from which a dry watercourse, marked by a broad line of herbage,
issued and crossed our route.
[Illustration]
Having here allowed our camels a little feeding, we entered upon
gravelly soil with projecting blocks of granite, and then went on
ascending through a succession of small plains and valleys till we
reached Erazar-n-Gébi, among the splendid vegetation of which we first
observed the abísga, or _Capparis sodata_, called siwák or lirák by the
Arabs, an important bush, the currant-like fruit of which is not only
eaten fresh but also dried, and laid up in store, while the root affords
that excellent remedy for the teeth which the Mohammedans, in imitation
of their prophet, use to a great extent. The root moreover, at least on
the shores of the Tsád, by the process of burning, affords a substitute
for salt. It is the most characteristic bush or tree of the whole region
of transition between the desert and the fertile regions of Central
Africa, between the twentieth and the fifteenth degree of northern
latitude; and in the course of my travels I saw it nowhere of such size
as on the northern bank of the Isa or Niger, between Timbúktu and Gágho,
the whole ground which this once splendid and rich capital of the
Songhay Empire occupied being at present covered and marked out by this
celebrated bush. As for the camels, they like very well to feed for a
short time upon its fresh leaves, if they have some other herb to mix
with it; but eaten alone it soon becomes too bitter for them. In this
valley the little berries were not yet ripe; but further on they were
ripening, and afforded a slight but refreshing addition to our food.
Leaving the pleasant valley of Gébi by a small opening bordered with
large blocks of granite, while peaks of considerable elevation were seen
towering over the nearer cliffs, we entered another large valley called
Tághajít[96], but not quite so rich in vegetation, and encamped here on
an open space a little after noon. The valley is important as being the
first in the frontier-region of Aïr or Asben where there is a fixed
settlement—a small village of leathern tents, inhabited by people of the
tribe of Fade-ang, who preserve a certain independence of the Kél-owí,
while they acknowledge the supremacy of the sultan of Ágades, a state of
things of which I shall have occasion to say more in another place.
[Footnote 88: The two names Aséttere and Tajétterat are apparently
derived from the same root.]
[Footnote 89: I give here a list of the stations of their route, from
Eláwen:—
Em-eríwuang, with water, one day; Inar-ámas, one long day; Tibállaghén,
with water when there has been much rain, one day; Terhén, with water,
one day; Tin-afárfa, mountain-range with sand, one day; Takíset, a
valley between high mountains, three days, two of them over very sandy
ground; Arikím, with water at all times; Iséti, a valley, two days;
Tamiswát, valley with water, one day; Morér, high mountains, two days;
Falésselez, one day, over a gravelly Hammáda; Tamba- or Shamba-késa, a
shallow valley rich in herbage (see p. 262.), one day; Tirárien, one
day; Araer, hammáda with shallow valleys, one day; Táfak, one day;
Arókam, water, one day; Tádomat, valley, one day; Kátelet, one day;
Aísala, or Isala, one day.]
[Footnote 90: I read it “énfadmaschbel.”]
[Footnote 91: This is a Háusa word, from “rába” (to divide); and I shall
have to notice, in the course of my proceedings, several localities so
designated on various routes.]
[Footnote 92: This name is evidently identical with the name given to
the Berber alphabet, which is called tefínaghen; but the coincidence
will cease to surprise when I remark that both words mean nothing but
signs, tokens, a name which may be given as well to letters as to a
district remarkable for the position of some stones or ridges. The
Tawárek, as I shall have occasion to mention in another part of my
narrative, call all sorts of writing not written in signs, but with
letters, tefínaghen. The learned among the Tademékket and Awelímmiden
were greatly surprised, when going attentively over my English books, to
find that it was all tefínaghen—“tefínagh rurret.”]
[Footnote 93: The form Aisou, in Mr. Richardson’s Journal, is only a
clerical error.]
[Footnote 94: Mr. Richardson calls it Takeesat.]
[Footnote 95: I regret that I neglected to inquire what was the original
Góber name of this place; for, while there cannot be any doubt that it
received its present name, Máket-n-ikelán, from this transaction, it is
very probable that it was a place of ancient pagan worship, and as such
had a name of its own. It is very significant that the neighbouring
plain is emphatically called “the plain of Aïr,”—in the Arabic form,
“shʿabet el Ahír.”]
[Footnote 96: This name too is pronounced Ta_r_hajít.]
[Illustration: DR. BARTH’S TRAVELS IN NORTH AND CENTRAL AFRICA Sheet No.
6. MAP OF THE ROUTE from TÍDIK TO TÁGELEL 27. August 1850 to 10.
Jany. 1851
Constructed and drawn by A. Petermann.
Engraved by E. Weller, _Duke Strt. Bloomsbury._
_London, Longman & Co._]
CHAP. XIII.
INHABITED BUT DANGEROUS FRONTIER-REGION.
The sensations of our guides and camel-drivers had been uneasy from the
very moment of our encamping; and Mr. Richardson, at the suggestion of
Ánnur, had on the preceding day sent Émeli and Mokhammed in advance, in
order to bring to us the chief of Fade-ang. This person was represented
to us as a man of great authority in this lawless country, and able to
protect us against freebooting parties, which our guests of the other
day, who had gone on in advance, were sure to collect against us. But
Mokhammed, as I have observed above, was a great rascal himself, who
would do all in his power to increase our difficulties, in order to
profit by the confusion. The chief was accordingly reported as being
absent; and a man who was said to be his brother was to take his place.
This person made his appearance, accompanied by some people from the
village; but it became immediately apparent that he had no authority
whatever, and one of the Imghád of Tádomat, who had stuck to us for the
last two days, in order to show us what respect he had for this man,
struck him repeatedly with his spear upon the shoulder. Among the
companions of our new protector was a Taleb of the name of Buhéda,
distinguished by his talkativeness and a certain degree of arrogance,
who made himself ridiculous by trying to convince us of his immense
learning. What an enormous difference there was between these mean-
looking and degraded half-castes and our martial pursuers, who stood
close by! Though I knew the latter could and would do us much more harm
than the former, I liked them much better.
Overweg and I had sat down in the shade of a talha-tree at a little
distance from our tent, and had soon a whole circle of visitors around
us, who in the beginning behaved with some modesty and discretion, but
gradually became rather troublesome. I gave them some small presents,
such as scissors, knives, mirrors, and needles, with which they
expressed themselves well pleased. Presently came also several women,
one with the characteristic features called in Temáshight “tebúllodén,”
which may be translated by the words of Leo, “le parti di dietro
pienissime e grasse,” and another younger one mounted upon a donkey.
The whole character of these people appeared very degraded. They were
totally devoid of the noble and manly appearance which the most careless
observer cannot fail to admire even in a common Tarki freebooter; and
the relation between the sexes appeared in a worse light than one would
expect in such a situation as this. However, we have ample testimony in
ancient Arabian writers that licentious manners have always prevailed
among the Berber tribes on the frontier of the desert; and we found the
same habits existing among the tribe of the Tagáma, while not only
Ágades but even the little village of Tintéllust was not without its
courtesans. This is a very disheartening phenomenon to observe in so
small a community, and in a locality where nature would seem peculiarly
favourable to purity and simplicity of manners. The names of some of
these Tághajít beauties—Telíttifók, Tatináta, and Temétilé—are
interesting for the character of the language.
We were anxious to buy some of the famous Aïr cheese, for which we had
been longing the whole way over the dreary desert, and had kept up our
spirits with the prospect of soon indulging in this luxury; but we were
not able to procure a single one, and our endeavours to buy a sheep or a
goat were equally fruitless. Instead of the plenty which we had been led
to expect in this country, we found nothing but misery. But I was rather
surprised to find here a very fine and strong race of asses.
We were tolerably composed, and reclining at our ease (though our
weapons were always at hand), when we were a little alarmed by a demand
of six riyals for the use of the pond in Jínninau. Our amiable but
unenergetic friend Ánnur seconded the demand, by way of satisfying in
some way the intruders upon our caravan. These claims were scarcely
settled when a dreadful alarm was raised, by the report that a body of
from fifty to sixty Mehára were about to attack us.
Though no good authority could be named for this intelligence, the whole
caravan was carried away by excitement, and all called out for powder
and shot. Bóro Serki-n-turáwa once more delivered eloquent speeches, and
exhorted the people to be courageous; but many of the Tinýlkum, very
naturally, had a great objection to come to open hostilities with the
Tawárek, which might end in their being unable to travel any longer
along this route.
In this moment of extreme excitement Khweldi arrived, the chief merchant
of Múrzuk, whom we had not expected to see, though we knew that he was
on his way from Sudán to the north. We were in a situation wherein he
was able to render us the most material service, both by his influence
upon the individuals of whom our caravan was composed, and by his
knowledge of the country whose frontier-territories we had just entered.
But unfortunately, though a very experienced merchant, he was not a
practical, sharp-sighted man; and instead of giving us clear information
as to the probable amount of truth in the reports, and what sort of
difficulties we might really have to encounter, and how by paying a sort
of passage-money to the chiefs we might get over them, he denied in
private the existence of any danger at all, while openly he went round
the whole caravan extolling our importance as a mission sent by a
powerful government, and encouraging the people to defend us if we
should be in danger. In consequence of his exhortations the Tinýlkum
took courage, but had the imprudence and absurdity to supply also the
three intruders with powder and shot, who, though protesting to be now
our most sincere friends, of course made no other use of the present
than to supply their band with this material, which alone gave us a
degree of superiority, and constituted our security.
Any one accustomed to look closely at things could not be at all
satisfied with the spirit of our caravan, notwithstanding its noise and
waste of powder, and with its entire want of union; but the scene which
followed in the bright moonlight evening, and lasted throughout the
night, was animating and interesting in the extreme. The whole caravan
was drawn up in a line of battle, the left wing being formed by
ourselves and the detachment of the Kél-owí who had left their own
camping-ground and posted themselves in front of our tent, while the
Tinýlkum and the Sfaksi formed the centre, and the rest of the Kél-owí,
with Bóro, the right wing, leaning upon the cliffs, our exposed left
being defended by the four pieces of the boat. About ten o’clock a small
troop of Mehára[97] appeared, when a heavy fusillade was kept up over
their heads, and firing and shouting were continued the whole night.
Our situation remained the same the whole of the following day; and it
became very tedious, as it prevented us from making excursions, and
becoming acquainted with the features of the new country which we had
entered. Another alarm having been raised in vain, the leaders of the
expedition which was collecting against us came out, with the promise
that they would not further molest the caravan if the Christians were
given up to them. This demand having been at once rejected, we were left
in tolerable tranquillity for a while, as the freebooters now saw that
in order to obtain their object, which was plunder, they should be
obliged to bring really into the field the whole force they had so long
boasted of.
Khweldi paid us another visit in the afternoon; and as he wanted to make
us believe that there was really no danger in this country, so he did
not fail to represent the state of things in Sudán as the most
favourable we could have wished for. He also sought to sweeten over any
remnant of anxiety which we might have, by a dish of very delicious
dates which he had received from his friend Háj Beshír in Iferwán, and
which gave us a favourable idea of what the country before us was able
to produce. Altogether Khweldi endeavoured to be agreeable to everybody;
and on a later occasion, in 1854, when I was for some time without
means, he behaved towards me in a very gentleman-like manner. In his
company was a brother of our quiet and faithful servant Mohammed from
Gatrón, who was now returning home with his earnings.
Not being able to refrain wholly from excursions, I undertook in the
afternoon to visit the watering-place situated up a little lateral nook
of the valley, adorned with very luxuriant talha-trees, and winding in a
half circle by S.E. to N.E. First, at the distance of about a mile, I
came to a hole where some of the Tinýlkum were scooping water; and
ascending the rocky bed of the occasional torrent, I found a small pond
where the camels were drinking; but our faithful friend Músa, who was
not at all pleased with my having ventured so far, told me that the
water obtained here did not keep long, but that higher up good water was
to be found in the principal valley.
I had from the beginning attentively observed the character and
proceedings of Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, and feared nothing so much as his
intrigues; and at my urgent request, Mr. Richardson to-night made him a
satisfactory present as an acknowledgment of the courage which he had
lately shown in defending our cause. Of course the present came rather
late; but it was better to give it now, in order to avert the
consequences of his intrigues as much as possible, than not at all. Had
it been given two months ago, it might have saved us an immense deal of
difficulty, danger, and heavy loss.
[Sidenote: Saturday, August 24th.]
We left at length our camping-ground in Tághajít, and soon passed
Khweldi’s encampment, which was just about to break up.
Rocky ground, overtopped by higher mountain-masses or by detached peaks,
and hollows overgrown with rich vegetation, and preserving for a longer
or shorter time the regular form of valleys, succeed by turns, and
constitute the predominant feature of the country of Asben. But instead
of the fresh green pasture which had delighted and cheered us in some of
the northern valleys, the herbage in some of those which we passed to-
day was quite dry.
Early in the afternoon we encamped in the valley Imenán[98], a little
outside the line of herbage and trees, on an open spot at the southern
foot of a low rocky eminence. The valley, overgrown as it was with large
talha-trees and the oat-grass called bú-rékkeba, of tall, luxuriant
growth, was pleasant, and invited us to repose. But before sunset our
tranquillity was greatly disturbed by the appearance of five of our
well-known marauding companions mounted on camels, and leading six
others. They dismounted within less than a pistol-shot from our tents,
and with wild ferocious laughter were discussing their projects with the
Azkár in our caravan.
I could scarcely suppress a laugh when several of the Tinýlkum came and
brought us the ironical assurance that there was now perfect security,
and that we might indulge in sound sleep. Others came with the less
agreeable, but truer warning, that we ought not to sleep that night. The
greatest alarm and excitement soon spread through the caravan. Later in
the evening, while our benevolent guests were devouring their supper,
Mohammed el Túnsi called me and Overweg aside, and informed us that we
were threatened with great danger indeed, these Hogár, as he called
them, having brought a letter from Nakhnúkhen, authorizing them to
collect people in the territory of the Kél-owí, and there to despatch us
in such a way that not even a trace of us should be found, but not to
touch us so long as we were within the confines of the Azkár.
I was convinced that this account, so far as it regarded Nakhnúkhen, was
an absurd fiction of our persecutors; and I tried to persuade our
servant to this effect. When he returned from us to the caravan, a
council of war was held, and a resolution passed, that if a number of
from twenty to thirty people came to attack us they would undertake to
defend us, but if we should be threatened by a more numerous host they
would try to make a compromise by yielding up a part of our goods. In
consequence of this resolution, all possible warlike preparations were
made once more, and Bóro delivered another speech; but it seemed rather
irreconcilable with such a state of things, that while we, as well as
the Tinýlkum, brought all our camels close to our tents at an early
hour, the Kél-owí left theirs out the whole night. Perhaps, being
natives of the country, they did not expect that the freebooters would
seize their animals.
Be this as it may, great anxiety arose when early in the morning it was
found that the camels were gone; and when day broke, our guests of last
night, who had stolen away before midnight, were seen riding down from
the rocky ridge on the south, and with a commanding air calling the
principal men of the caravan to a council. Then followed the scenes
which Mr. Richardson has so graphically described.
I will only mention that Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, sword in hand, led us on
with great energy. He called me to keep close to him; and I think that
now (when we had atoned for the neglect with which he had been treated
by us, by assuring him that we were convinced of his high position and
influence in the country) he had the honest intention to protect us. Of
the Tinýlkum only our faithful Músa and the amiable young Slimán adhered
to us, and, of the other people, the Tawáti and Mohammed e’ Sfaksi,
although the latter trembled with fear, and was as pale as death; Yusuf
Mukni remained behind. Fárreji on this occasion behaved with great
courage, and bravely challenged the enemy. What frightened the latter
most were the bayonets on our guns, as they saw that, after having
received our fire, they would not yet have done with us, but would still
have a weapon to encounter at least as formidable as their own spears.
As soon as the enemy had protested that he was only come against us as
Christians, all sympathy for us ceased in the caravan. All expected that
we would become Moslemín without great difficulty; and our servant
Mohammed, when we rejected this condition as an impossibility,
immediately relapsed into his ordinary impudence, laughing in our faces
because, forsooth, we were so absurd as still to think of some other
expedient. This clever but spoiled youngster was a protégé of the
British consulate in Tunis.
At length all seemed to be settled. The whole host of the enemy, besides
its rich booty, had been treated with an enormous quantity of mohamsa;
and we had repeatedly been assured that now we might be certain of
reaching the chief Ánnur’s residence without any further disturbance,
when the little Ánnur, a man of honest but mild character, came to beg
us most earnestly to be on our guard, lest behind the rocks and ridges
there might still be some persons in ambush. At length we left this
inhospitable place; but we were far from being at ease, for it was clear
that there was still a cloud on the horizon, which might easily gather
to another storm.
After a short march we encamped in a small valley without pitching our
tents. The Merábet who had accompanied and sanctioned the expedition
against us was now in our company; and that was thought to be the best
means of preventing any further molestation. This man, as I made out
afterwards, was no other than Ibrahím Aghá-batúre (the son of Háj
Beshír, a well-known and influential person settled in Ferwán, or
Iferwán), who, in consequence of these proceedings, was afterwards
punished severely by the sultan of Ágades. With Aghá-batúre himself I
met accidentally at a later period, in 1853, near Zinder, when he was
greatly astonished to see me still alive, notwithstanding all the
hardships I had gone through. Bóro, who passed the evening with him in
reading the Kurán, treated him hospitably—with Mr. Richardson’s mohamsa.
[Sidenote: Monday, August 26th.]
After a march of three miles and a half, having ascended a little, we
obtained a clear view of the great mountain-mass which, lying between
Tídik on the north and Tintagh-odé on the west, seems not to be marked
with a collective proper name, although it is very often called by the
people Mount Absen.[99] But I cannot say whether this name, which is the
old Góber name for the whole country called by the Berbers Aïr, belonged
originally only to these mountains, or whether it is now given to them
merely on account of their being the conspicuous elevation of the
country so-named, to people coming from the north; for this, according
to the unanimous statement of the Kél-owí, is the frontier of Sudán, to
which neither Tághajít nor even Tídik belongs. The Tawárek, it would
seem, have no indigenous proper name for Sudán (properly Beled e’ sudán)
or Negroland; most of them call it Agús (the south). Nevertheless Tekrúr
seems to be an ancient Libyan name for Negroland.
A remarkable peak called Téngik or Tímge towers over this mountain-mass,
being, according to the intelligent old chief Ánnur (who ought to be
well acquainted with his own country), the most elevated point in the
whole country of Aïr. Unfortunately our situation in the country was
such that we could not think of exploring this very interesting northern
barrier, which must be supposed to possess many beautiful glens and
valleys.
But we were still at some distance from these picturesque mountains, and
had to cross a very rugged and dreary waste, where, however, we caught
sight of the first ostrich as yet seen on our journey. We encamped at
length in a shallow valley devoid of any interesting features.
During the night, while I was on the first watch, walking round the
encampment of the caravan, it struck me that at one end of it, beyond
the Kél-owí, a small party was separately encamped. When I went there
the first time, all was quiet; but a little after eleven o’clock (for in
general, on such a journey, everyone lies down at an early hour),
hearing a noise on that side, and turning thither, I saw two armed
Tawárek saddle their mehára, and make off in the gloom of night. From
this circumstance I concluded that something was still going on against
us; but as it appeared useless to make an alarm, I only took the
precaution to put Overweg, who succeeded me on the watch, upon his
guard.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, August 27th.]
We started at a very early hour; but fortunately the moonlight was so
clear and beautiful that I was not interrupted for a moment in marking
down all the features of the country—at least along our route, for our
situation was now too precarious to allow of our observing angles to fix
the exact position of mountains lying at some distance from us.
The road in general continued rugged for the first six miles, and formed
at times very difficult passes; but, notwithstanding these obstacles,
the whole caravan kept as close together as possible, and so frustrated
the plans of our persecutors, who, as we concluded from the appearance
of several Mehára in the distance, intended to attack us on the road, if
occasion offered. There are two roads, the easternmost of which passes
further on through a remarkable gorge in the mountains, which we had for
a long time ahead of us. Here, where we turned off with a westerly
deviation, beautiful white marble, but slightly weather-worn on the
surface, appeared between the nodules of granite and gneiss, while on
our right we had a rocky ridge called Itsa, the crest of which was
indented in a most remarkable way. Further on, where for a while we
entered on a gravelly soil, the whole ground was covered with fresh
footsteps of camels and men; and there was not the least doubt that
another host was gathering against us.
Mount Kadamméllet with its tapering double peak, at a greater distance
in the west, formed an interesting object, while the country was
gradually improving. While turning round the lower offshoots of the
large mountain-mass which we had now approached, we entered a rather
narrow but very rich valley adorned with most luxuriant talha-trees
completely enwrapped and bound together by creepers, while the ground
was richly clothed with herbage. This is the valley of Tídik; the
village of that name, which is situated in a recess of the mountains on
our left, remained invisible. It is said to consist of huts formed of a
kind of long dry grass, and therefore makes some approach to the fashion
of Sudán; these huts are called tághamt, or táramt, by the Southern
Imóshagh. But at present the village was desolate, all the inhabitants,
the Kél-tídik (people of Tídik) having gone for a while to the fine
valleys in the west, which appear to be richer than those to the east.
[Illustration]
Further on we crossed the bed of a considerable torrent, the valley
terminating in a narrow passage which, though generally considered as
the very entrance into the region of Sudán, led us once more into a
desolate rocky district, at times widening to dry hollows. Here Mount
Kadamméllet, of which only the double peak had been previously visible,
exhibited to us its ample flanks. The country became so extremely rugged
that we advanced but slowly; and having here received distinct
information which fully confirmed our apprehension of another predatory
expedition against us, we marched in order of battle. Thus we reached a
pond of rain-water in the narrow rugged hollow Tároï[100], where we
filled our water-bags. We found here several donkeys of a remarkably
fine breed, belonging to the men who had brought us the news.
[Illustration]
The country beyond this place became more interesting, and even
picturesque at times, several fine glens descending one after the other
from the beautifully-indented mountains on our left, which now rose into
full view, as the off-shoots had gradually receded.
We were only about eight miles from Selúfiet, where we might expect to
be tolerably safe; and we had not the least doubt that we were to sleep
there, when suddenly, before noon, our old Azkár mádogu Awed el Khér
turned off the road to the right, and chose the camping-ground at the
border of a broad valley richly overgrown with herbage. As if moved by
supernatural agency, and in ominous silence, the whole caravan followed;
not a word was spoken.
It was then evident that we were to pass through another ordeal, which,
according to all appearance, would be of a more serious kind than that
we had already undergone. How this plot was laid is rather mysterious;
and it can be explained only by supposing that a diabolical conspiracy
was entered into by the various individuals of our caravan. Some
certainly were in the secret; but Ánnur, not less certainly, was sincere
in our interest, and wished us to get through safely. But the turbulent
state of the country did not allow this weak, unenergetic man to attain
his object. Blackmail had been levied upon us by the frontier-tribes;
here was another strong party to be satisfied, that of the Merábetín or
Aníslimen, who, enjoying great influence in the country, were in a
certain degree opposed to the paramount authority of the old chief Ánnur
in Tintéllust; and this man, who alone had power to check the turbulent
spirit of these wild and lawless tribes, was laid up with sickness. In
Ágades there was no sultan, and several parties still stood in
opposition to each other, while by the great expedition against the
Welád Slimán, all the warlike passions of the people had been awakened,
and their cupidity and greediness for booty and rapine excited to the
utmost pitch. All these circumstances must be borne in mind, in order to
form a right view of the manner in which we were sacrificed.
The whole affair had a very solemn appearance from the beginning; and it
was apparent that this time there were really other motives in view
besides that of robbing us. Some of our companions evidently thought
that here, at such a distance from our homes and our brethren in faith,
we might yield to a more serious attack upon our religion, and so far
were sincerely interested in the success of the proceeding; but whether
they had any accurate idea of the fate that awaited us, whether we
should retain our property and be allowed to proceed, I cannot say. But
it is probable that the fanatics thought little of our future destiny;
and it is absurd to imagine that, if we had changed our religion as we
would a suit of clothes, we should have thereby escaped absolute ruin.
Our people, who well knew what was going on, desired us to pitch only a
single tent for all three of us, and not to leave it, even though a
great many people should collect about us. The excitement and anxiety of
our friend Ánnur had reached the highest pitch; and Bóro was writing
letter after letter. Though a great number of Merábetín had collected at
an early hour, and a host of other people arrived before sunset, the
storm did not break out; but as soon as all the people of our caravan,
arranged in a long line close to our tent, under the guidance of the
most respected of the Merábetín as Imám, had finished their Mughreb
prayers, the calm was at an end, and the scene which followed was awful.
Our own people were so firmly convinced that, as we stoutly refused to
change our religion, though only for a day or two, we should immediately
suffer death, that our servant Mohammed, as well as Mukni, requested us
most urgently to testify, in writing, that they were innocent of our
blood. Mr. Richardson himself was far from being sure that the sheikhs
did not mean exactly what they said. Our servants, and the chiefs of the
caravan, had left us with the plain declaration that nothing less than
certain death awaited us; and we were sitting silently in the tent, with
the inspiring consciousness of going to our fate in a manner worthy
alike of our religion and of the nation in whose name we were travelling
among these barbarous tribes, when Mr. Richardson interrupted the
silence which prevailed, with these words:—“Let us talk a little. We
must die; what is the use of sitting so mute?” For some minutes death
seemed really to hover over our heads; but the awful moment passed by.
We had been discussing Mr. Richardson’s last propositions for an attempt
to escape with our lives, when, as a forerunner of the official
messenger, the benevolent and kind-hearted Slimán rushed into our tent,
and with the most sincere sympathy stammered out the few words, “You are
not to die.”
The amount of the spoil taken from us was regulated by the sum which we
had paid to our Kél-owí escort, the party concerned presuming that they
had just the same demands upon us as our companions. The principal, if
not the only, actors in this affair were the Merábetín; and Ánnur the
chief of Tin-téllust afterwards stated to us that it was to them we had
to attribute all our losses and mishaps. There was also just at this
period a young sheríf from Medína at Tin-tagh-odé, with whom we
afterwards came into intimate relations, and who confessed to us that he
had contributed his part to excite the hatred of the people against the
Christian intruders. Experienced travellers have very truly remarked
that this sort of sherífs are at the bottom of every intrigue. To the
honour of Bóro Serki-n-turáwa, I have to state that he was ashamed of
the whole affair, and tried to protect us to the best of his power,
although in the beginning he had certainly done all that he could to
bring us into difficulties.
It was one of the defects of the expedition, that our merchandise,
instead of comprising a few valuable things, was for the most part
composed of worthless bulky objects, and that it made all the people
believe that we were carrying with us enormous wealth, while the whole
value of our things scarcely amounted to two hundred pounds. We had
besides about ten large iron cases filled with dry biscuit, but which
all the ignorant people believed to be crammed with money. The
consequence was that the next morning, when all the claims had at length
been settled, and we wanted to move on, there was still great danger
that the rabble, which had not yet dispersed, would fall upon the rest
of our luggage; and we were greatly obliged to the Sfaksi, who not only
passed some of our luggage as his own, but also dashed to pieces one of
the iron cases, when, to the astonishment of the simple people, instead
of heaps of dollars, a dry and tasteless sort of bread came forth from
the strong inclosure.
Meanwhile the persecuted Christians had made off, accompanied by some of
the Kél-owí; and at length the whole caravan collected together. The
valley was here very beautiful, and having crossed some smaller hollows,
we reached the fine valley of Selúfiet, rich in trees and bushes, but
without herbage; while at the distance of less than a mile on our left,
the high peak of the Tímge stood erect. Towards the west the valley
forms a deep gap behind a projecting mass of granite blocks; and it was
here that I met again my old acquaintance from the Sʿaid and Nubia, the
dúm-tree or _Cucifera Thebaïca_, here called gáriba, after the Háusa
name góreba. From the Kél-owí I could not learn the proper Berber name
of this tree[101]; but the Western Imóshagh call it akóf. Even the
_Capparis sodata_ seems to be called, by the Berber conquerors of this
country, only by the Háusa name abísga, while their western brethren
call it téshak. Besides the _Cucifera_, or fan-palm, there were here
also a few isolated specimens of the date-palm.
The village of Selúfiet itself, consisting of sixty or seventy grass
huts of peculiar shape, lies on the southern side of a broad valley
running here from east to west and richly overgrown with górebas,
abísgas, and talha-trees, but without any grass, for which the ground
seems too elevated and stony. Our camping-ground also was of this bare
character, and not at all pleasing; it was protected in the rear by
large buttresses of rock.
We had not yet enjoyed much tranquillity and security; and we here felt
its want the more keenly as, our camel-drivers having been hired only as
far as this place, we had henceforth to take charge of all our things
ourselves. A large mob of lawless people came about us in the course of
the night, howling like hungry jackals; and we were obliged to assure
them, by frequent firing, that we were on the watch. We had been obliged
to leave our camels to the care of the Kél-owí; but the freebooters
having succeeded in dispersing the camels in every direction, our
friends were unable in the evening to collect either their own animals
or ours, and in the night they were all driven away, as we were told, by
the Merábetín themselves who so repeatedly assured us of their
protection.
In the letters which we sent to Europe during our next day’s halt in
this place, by a caravan of Arabs and Kél-owí, the largest part of which
was already in advance, we were unable to give a perfectly satisfactory
account of our progress; nevertheless we had made a great step in
advance, and were justified in hoping that we should be able to overcome
whatever difficulties might still await us, and the more so as we were
now able to place ourselves in direct communication with the chief of
Tintéllust, from whom we might soon expect to receive an escort.
[Sidenote: Thursday, August 29th.]
Some of the stolen camels having been recovered, though fifteen were
still wanting, we were enabled to move from this uncomfortable place the
next day, leaving behind us, however, the boat and some other things,
which were valueless to any but ourselves.
Pleased as we were with our onward movement, we were still more cheered
when we observed in the fine valley, which here seems to bear the name
Érasa, or rather Érazar[102], some small fields with a fresh green crop
of negro millet—a delicious sight to travellers from the desert, and the
best assurance that we had entered cultivable regions. The fields or
gardens were watered by means of a kind of khattára of very simple
construction,—a simple pole with a longer cross pole, to which the
bucket is fastened. A little further on, the whole valley was clothed
with fine wide-spreading bushes of the abísga or _Capparis_; but it soon
narrowed, while we marched straight upon the high pointed peak
overtowering Tin-tagh-odé, which forms an interesting object. The valley
of Selúfiet seems to have no connection with that of the latter place;
at least, the principal branch, along which our route lay, was entirely
separated from it by rocky ground. Here a broad gap dividing the
mountain-mass allows a peep into the glens formed by the several ridges
of which it consists, and which seem to rise to greater elevation as
they recede. The slope is rather precipitous; and the general elevation
of this mountain-mass seems scarcely less than 3300 feet above the
bottom of the valley, or about 5000 feet above the level of the sea.
[Illustration]
We soon descended again from the rocky ground into a hollow plain richly
clothed with vegetation, where, besides the abísga, the tunfáfia or
_Asclepias gigantea_, which we had entirely lost sight of since leaving
Égeri, appeared in great abundance. Here also was a new plant which we
had not seen before—the “állwot,” with large succulent leaves and a
pretty violet flower. The camels devoured it most eagerly, and, in the
whole district of Aïr, preferred it to any other kind of food. It has a
great resemblance to the poisonous damankádda, which in Sudán is often
the cause of dangerous disease, and even of death, to the camel.
After marching along this valley for two miles, we encamped on an open
space encircled with the green spreading bushes of the abísga, a little
beyond Tin-tagh-odé, the village of the Merábetín or Aníslimen[103],
which is spread in a long line over the low offshoots of the mountain-
range, and contains about a hundred light huts, almost all of them being
made of grass and the leaves of the dúm-palm, a few only being built of
stones.
Small as this village is, it is of very great importance for the
intercourse between Central Africa and the northern region beyond the
desert; for under the authority of these learned and devout men,
commerce is carried on with a security which is really surprising, if
regard be had to the wild and predatory habits of the people around. As
these Aníslimen belong to a tribe of the Kél-owí, we may infer that
their settlement here was contemporaneous with the conquest of the
country by the latter tribe,—a conclusion favoured by the narrative of
Ebn Batúta, who does not appear to have found any settlements in this
quarter.
The Aníslimen, however, though they style themselves “devout men,” have
not therefore relinquished all concern about the things of this world,
but, on the contrary, by their ambition, intrigues, and warlike
proceedings, exercise a great influence upon the whole affairs of the
country, and have placed themselves, as I have already mentioned, in a
sort of opposition to the powerful chief of Tintéllust. Recently,
however, a great calamity had befallen them, the Awelímmiden (the
“Surka” of Mungo Park, the dreaded enemies of the Kél-owí) having by a
sudden inroad carried away all their camels; and it may have been partly
the desire to make use of the opportunity afforded them by the arrival
of some unprotected infidels, to repair their losses in some measure,
which made them deal so hostilely with us.
As we encamped, the boys of the village hovered around us in great
numbers; and while we kept a good look out to prevent their pilfering,
we could not but admire their tall, well-formed figures and their light
colour,—the best proof that this little clan does not intermarry with
the black race. They wore nothing but a leathern apron; and their hair
was shorn on the sides, leaving a crest in the middle.
When we had made ourselves somewhat comfortable, we were desirous of
entering into some traffic with the people, in order to replace our
provisions, which were almost wholly exhausted; but we soon had reason
to be convinced how erroneous were the ideas which we had formed from
reports as to the cheapness of provisions in this country, and that we
should have very great difficulty in procuring even the little that was
absolutely necessary. Of butter and cheese we were unable to obtain the
smallest quantity, while only very small parcels of dukhn, or gero
(millet or _Pennisetum typhoïdeum_), were offered to us, and greatly to
our disadvantage, as the articles we had to barter with, such as
bleached and unbleached calico, razors, and other things, were estimated
at a very low rate. A common razor brought us here ten zekka of millet,
worth, according to the estimate of the country, one third of a mithkál,
equal to 333 kurdi, or about sixpence-halfpenny. I learnt from Émeli
that the Sakomáren, a tribe of Imóshagh possessing large flocks of sheep
and even much cattle, bring almost every year a considerable supply of
butter to this country, a statement which was soon confirmed by my own
experience.
The man just mentioned, who had something extremely noble and
prepossessing about him, was about to return to Ghát; and I confided to
him a letter for Europe. In all probability this is the letter which was
afterwards found in the desert, and was brought by Nakhnúkhen (the chief
of the Azkár) himself to Mr. Dickson, Her Majesty’s agent in Ghadámes,
who from its fate drew some sinister conclusions as to my own.
Several other people having left us, we remained in tolerable quiet and
repose the whole day; but it was reported that the next day, during
which we should be obliged to stay here in order to wait for the
restitution of our camels, there would be a great concourse of Mehára to
celebrate a marriage in the village: but fortunately the immense
quantity of rain which fell in the whole of the neighbourhood, and which
on the 1st of September changed our valley into the broad bed of a rapid
river, placing all our property in the utmost danger, prevented this
design from being executed, and, while it seemed to portend to us a new
misfortune, most probably saved us from a much greater mischief.
Having just escaped from the dangers arising from the fanaticism and the
rapacity of the people, it was a hard trial to have to contend again
against an element the power of which, in these border regions of the
desert, we had been far from appreciating and acknowledging. We had no
antecedents from which to conclude the possibility that in this region a
valley, more than half a mile wide, might be turned, in twenty-four
hours, into a stream violent enough to carry away the heaviest things,
not excepting even a strong, tall animal like the camel; and it was with
almost childish satisfaction that, in the afternoon of Saturday, we went
to look at the stream, which was just beginning to roll its floods
along. It was then a most pleasant and refreshing sight; the next day it
became a grand and awful picture of destruction, which gave us no faint
idea of a deluge. To the description of the flood itself, as it is given
by Mr. Richardson, I shall not add anything; but I have to mention the
following circumstances, which seem not to have been placed in their
true light.
Half an hour after midday, the waters began to subside, and ceased to
endanger our little island, which, attacked on all sides by the
destructive fury of an impetuous mountain-torrent swollen to the
dimensions of a considerable river, was fast crumbling to pieces, and
scarcely afforded any longer space enough to hold our party and our
things. Suddenly, on the western shore, a number of Mehára were seen,
while at the same time the whole population of Tin-tagh-odé, in full
battle-array, came from the other side, and formed themselves in regular
groups, partly round our hill, and partly opposite to the Tinýlkum.
While we looked with distrust upon these preparations, most of our
muskets having been wetted, the mischievous Mokhammed approached our
hill and, addressing me with a very significant and malevolent look,
cried out, “Lots of people!” The previous afternoon, when I had
requested him, while squatting himself insolently upon my carpet, to
leave this only piece of comfort for my own use, he threatened me in
plain terms, and in the coolest manner, that the following night I
should lie on the bottom of the wadi, and he upon my carpet. Not put out
by his malice, though I was myself rather doubtful as to the friendly
intentions of all these people, I told him that the Mehára were our
friends sent by the chief Ánnur as an escort to conduct us safely to
Tintéllust. With a threatening gesture he told me I should be sadly
disappointed, and went away. Fortunately, it turned out that the people
mounted on camels were really Ánnur’s escort; but at the same time a
large band of robbers had collected, in order to make a last effort to
take possession of our property before we should obtain the protection
of Ánnur, and only withdrew reluctantly when they saw that they should
meet with a strong opposition.
We were then justified in hoping that we had at length entered a harbour
affording us a certain degree of security; and with thankful and
gladdened hearts we looked forward to our further proceedings. Our
present situation, however, was far from being comfortable: almost all
our things were wet; our tents were lying in the mud at the bottom of
the stream; and our comfortable and strong, but heavy, Tripolitan tent
was so soaked with water and earth, that a camel could scarcely carry
it. Leaving at length our ill-chosen camping-ground, Overweg and I, were
passing the principal torrent (which was still very rapid), when the
camels we rode, weakened by the dreadful situation they had been in the
whole day, were unable to keep their feet, and, slipping on the muddy
bottom, set us down in the midst of the stream. Soaked and barefoot,
having lost my shoes, I was glad to reach in the dark the new encampment
which had been chosen on the elevated rocky ground a little beyond the
border of the valley. Our beds were in the most cheerless condition, and
in an unhealthy climate would certainly have been productive of bad
consequences. Aïr, however, in every respect may be called the
Switzerland of the desert.
Fortunately the weather on the following morning cleared up, and,
although the sun came forth only now and then, a fresh wind was very
favourable for drying; and it was pleasant to see one thing after
another resume a comfortable appearance. The whole encampment seemed to
be one large drying-ground.
Having recovered a little from the uncomfortable state in which we had
passed the night, we went to pay a visit to the principal men of our new
escort, who had seated themselves in a circle, spear in hand, with their
leader Hámma (a son-in-law of the chief Ánnur) in the midst of them.
Entire strangers as both parties were to each other, and after the many
mishaps we had gone through, and the many false reports which must have
reached these men about our character, the meeting could not fail to be
somewhat cool. We expressed to the leader our sincere acknowledgment of
the service which the chief Ánnur had rendered us, and begged him to
name us to such of his companions as were related to the chief. On this
occasion Mohammed, the chief’s cousin, who afterwards became a great
friend of mine, made himself remarkable by his pretensions and
arrogance. They were all of them tolerably good-looking; but they were
not at all of the same make as the Azkár and the people living near the
border of Aïr. They were blacker, and not so tall, and, instead of the
austere and regular northern features, had a rounder and more cheerful,
though less handsome expression of countenance. Their dress also was
more gay, several of them wearing light-blue, instead of the melancholy-
looking dark-blue tobes.
At about ten o’clock we at length moved on, and chose the western of the
two roads, leading hence to Tin-téllust, by way of Fódet; the eastern
one passes through Tágo and Táni. Leaving the large green valley of Tin-
tagh-odé on our left, we kept on more uneven ground, passing some
smaller glens, till we reached the commencement of the fine broad valley
Fódet, and encamped near the cliffs bordering its eastern side. Here the
water, rushing down from the rocks in a sort of cascade, had formed a
pond, which, however, was not destined to remain long.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, September 3rd.]
We made a very interesting march through a country marked with bold
features, and showing itself in more than one respect capable of being
the abode of man. Turning away from the eastern border, we kept more
along the middle of the valley, till we reached the most picturesque
spot where it divided into two branches, the eastern of which, bordered
by several imposing mountain-spurs, presented a very interesting
perspective, of which the accompanying sketch, drawn as it was on the
back of my camel, will give only a faint idea.
[Illustration]
The whole bottom of the valley, where, the day before yesterday, a
mighty torrent had been foaming along, was now glittering with fragments
of minerals. We then passed the ruins of some houses carried away by the
floods, and met further on a little troop of asses laden with
éneli.[104] Our whole caravan was in good spirits; and our escort, in
order to give us a specimen of their horsemanship, if I may so call it,
got up a race, which, as may be readily imagined, proved a very awkward
affair. Two or three of the riders were thrown off; and the sport soon
came to an end. The swift camel is excellent for trotting; but it can
never excel in a gallop.
In our ascent we had reached very considerable mountain-masses on our
right, when some of our old companions, who had come with us from Ghát,
separated from us, in order to go to their village Túngadu. Among these
was Ákshi, a very modest and quiet man, who alone of all these people
had never begged from me even the merest trifle, though he gave me some
information, and I might have learnt much more from him if I had seen
him more frequently. But I had the good fortune to meet with him again
at a later period.
The country here became very mountainous, and the ascent steep, till we
reached a valley called by some of the Kél-owí the upper course of the
valley of Tin-téllust. Having reached the crest of the elevation, we
began to descend, first gradually along smaller valleys, afterwards more
steeply into a deep ravine, while in the distance towards the south-
west, above the lower hills, a ridge of considerable elevation became
visible. Gradually the ravine widened, and became clothed with fine
herbage. Here, to our great disappointment, the little Ánnur, Dídi,
Fárreji, and several of the Tinýlkum (among them the intelligent and
active Ibrahím) left us in order to reach their respective residences.
Of course Ánnur ought to have seen us safe to the chief’s residence; but
being without energy, he allowed our new companions, with whom we had
not yet been able to become acquainted, to extort from us what they
could, as the Fade-ang and the Aníslimen had done before. Keeping along
some smaller valleys, we reached, about noon, a considerable pond of
rain-water, where I watered my thirsty camel. Almost all the smaller
valleys through which we passed incline towards the west.
Much against our wish, we encamped a little after three o’clock P.M., in
a widening of the valley Afís, near the southern cliffs (which had a
remarkably shattered appearance), there being a well at some little
distance. We had scarcely encamped when a troublesome scene was enacted,
in the attempt to satisfy our escort, the men not being yet acquainted
with us, and making importunate demands. But there was more turmoil and
disturbance than real harm in it; and though half of the contents of a
bale of mine were successfully carried off by the turbulent Mohammed,
and a piece of scarlet cloth was cut into numberless small shreds in the
most wanton manner, yet there was not much to complain of, and it was
satisfactory to see Hámma (Ánnur’s son-in-law, and the chief of the
escort) display the greatest energy in his endeavours to restore what
was forcibly taken.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, September 4th.]
We were glad when day dawned; but with it came very heavy rain, which
had been portended last night by thickly accumulated clouds and by
lightning. Rain early in the morning seems to be rather a rare
phenomenon, as well in this country as all over Central Africa[105], if
it be not in continuation of the previous night’s rain; and it was
probably so on this occasion, rain having fallen during the whole night
in the country around us.
Having waited till the rain seemed to have a little abated, we started
at seven o’clock, in order to reach the residence of the powerful chief
Ánnur, in whose hands now lay the whole success of the expedition.
Though all that we had heard about him was calculated to inspire us with
confidence in his personal character, yet we could not but feel a
considerable degree of anxiety.
Soon emerging from the valley of Afís, we ascended rocky ground, over
which we plodded, while the rain poured down upon us with renewed
violence, till we reached the commencement of another valley, and a
little further, on its northern side, the small village Sárara, or
Asárara, divided into two groups, between which we passed. We then
crossed low rocky ground intersected by many small beds of torrents
descending from the mountains on our left, which rise to a considerable
elevation. All these channels incline towards the south, and are thickly
clothed with bushes.
It was half-past nine o’clock, the weather having now cleared up, when
we entered the valley of Tintéllust[106], forming a broad sandy channel,
bare of herbage, and only lined with bushes along its border. On the low
rocky projections on its eastern side lay a little village, scarcely
discernible from the rocks around; it was the long and anxiously looked-
for residence of the chief E’ Núr or Ánnur. Our servants saluted it with
a few rounds. Leaving the village on the eastern border of the sandy
bed, we went a little further to the south, keeping close to the low
rocky projection on our right, at the foot of which was the little tebki
or water-pond, and encamped on a sand-hill rising in a recess of the
rocky offshoots, and adorned at its foot with the beautiful green and
widely-spreading bushes of the _Capparis sodata_, while behind was a
charming little hollow with luxuriant talha-trees. Over the lower rocky
ground rose Mount Tunán, while towards the south the majestic mountain-
group of Búnday closed the view. As for the prospect over the valley
towards the village, and the beautiful mountain-mass[107] beyond, it is
represented in the annexed sketch, made at a later period, and for the
accuracy of which I can answer.
Altogether it was a most beautiful camping-ground, where in ease and
quiet we could establish our little residence, not troubled every moment
by the intrusion of the townspeople; but it was rather too retired a
spot, and too far from our protector, being at least eight hundred yards
from the village, in a country of lawless people not yet accustomed to
see among them men of another creed, of another complexion, and of
totally different usages and manners.
This spot being once selected, the tents were soon pitched; and in a
short time, on the summit of the sand-hill, there rose the little
encampment of the English expedition, consisting of four tents forming a
sort of semi-circle, opening towards the south, the point to which all
our arduous efforts were directed,—Mr. Richardson’s tent towards the
west, Overweg’s and mine adjoining it towards the east, and each flanked
by a smaller tent for the servants. Doubtless this sand-hill will ever
be memorable in the annals of the Asbenáwa as the “English Hill,” or the
“Hill of the Christians.” But before I proceed to relate the incidents
of our daily life while we stayed here, it will be well to introduce the
reader to the country and the people with whom we have come in contact.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
TIN-TÉLLUST.
Sepr. 1850.]
[Footnote 97: In conformity with the usage of travellers, I call Mehára
people mounted upon mehára, or swift camels (in the singular form
méheri). This expression has nothing whatever to do with Mehárebín, a
name of which I shall speak hereafter.]
[Footnote 98: The name has probably some connection with that of the
tribe Ímanang.]
[Footnote 99: Absen and Asben are used indiscriminately, though a ba-
Háushe, or Háusa man, will always say Asben, ba-Asbenchi, Asbenáwa,
while the native half-castes will prefer the other form—Absen,
Absenáwa.]
[Footnote 100: Mr. Richardson calls the pond Anamghur; correctly
perhaps, though I did not hear it so called. The name of the valley,
however, is Tároï; and, if I am not mistaken, Anamaghúr, or Anemághera,
means, in the Southern Berber dialect, in general, “a watering place;”
for our halting-place near Tághajít was also called by this name.]
[Footnote 101: I think, however, that the more learned among them call
it tágait. The palm-tree is called táshdait.]
[Footnote 102: “Érazar,” properly “éghazar,” means “the valley,” in
general; but nevertheless here it seems to be a proper name.]
[Footnote 103: “Aníslim” is the term in the Temáshight language
equivalent to the Arabic Merábet; and though it evidently has the most
intimate relation to the word “selem” (Islám), meaning properly a man
professing Islám, this signification has been entirely lost sight of. I
was generally deemed and called by the Western Tawárek an Aníslim,
because I wrote and read.]
[Footnote 104: Éneli, انلي—dukhn—is a word several times mentioned by
the learned traveller Ebn Batúta in his Travels, where it has not been
understood by the translators. See Journal Asiatique, 1843, série iv.
tom. i. pp. 188. 191. 200. At p. 194. he describes the favourite
beverage dakno, made of this corn.]
[Footnote 105: In many parts of India, just the contrary seems to
occur.]
[Footnote 106: It will be well to say a few words about this name, as
the way in which I write it has been made the subject of criticism. Tin-
téllust means “(the valley) with or of the téllust;” “tin” is the
pronoun expressing possession, and exactly corresponds with the Western
Arabic متاع. It is of very frequent occurrence, as well in names of
localities as of tribes, and even of men, such as Tin-Yerátan, son of
Wasembú, the celebrated King of Aúdaghost. “Téllust” is the feminine
form of “ellus,” the feminine Berber nouns having the peculiarity of not
only beginning with _t_, but often ending with it likewise. (Newman, in
Zeitschrift für Kunde des Morgenlandes, 1845, vol. vi. p. 275.)]
[Footnote 107: These mountains, which from this side seem to form a
well-defined group, have, as far as I know, no general name.]
CHAP. XIV.
ETHNOGRAPHICAL RELATIONS OF AÏR.
The name Aïr, exactly as it is written and pronounced by the natives at
the present day, first occurs in the description of Leo, which was
written in 1526.[108] The country Káher, mentioned by the traveller Ebn
Batúta[109] on his home-journey from Tekádda by way of the wells of
Asïu, is evidently somewhere hereabouts, but seems rather to denote the
region a few days’ journey west from Tintéllust, and to be identical
with the “Ghir” of Leo[110], though this extended more to the S.W. The
name being written by the Arabs with an _h_ (Ahír), most historical
geographers have erroneously concluded that this is the true indigenous
form of the name.[111]
Aïr, however, does not appear to be the original name of the country,
but seems to have been introduced by the Berber conquerors, the former
name being Asben or Absen, as it is still called by the black and the
mixed population. Asben was formerly the country of the Góberáwa, the
most considerable and noble portion of the Háusa nation, which does not
seem to belong to the pure Negro races, but to have originally had some
relationship with North Africa; and from this point of view the
statement of Sultan Bello cannot be regarded as absurd, when in the
introduction to his historical work on the conquests of the Fulbe,
“Infák él misúri fi fat hah el Tekrúri,” he calls the people of Góber
Copts[112], though only one family is generally considered by the
learned men of the country as of foreign origin.
The capital of this kingdom of Asben, at least since the 16th century,
was Tin-shamán, at present a village a little to the west of the road
from Aúderas to Ágades, and about twenty miles from the latter place.
The name is evidently a Berber one[113]; and the Berber influence is
still more evident from the fact that a portion, at least, of the
population of the town were Masúfa, a well-known Berber tribe who in
former times were the chief guides on the road from Sejilmésa to
Waláta.[114] Be this as it may, several learned men, inhabitants of this
place, are mentioned by the native historians of Negroland, which shows
that there existed in it some degree of comparative civilization. In the
middle of the 14th century not only Tekádda but even Káhír was in the
hands of the Berbers, as we see from Batúta’s narrative; and this
eminent traveller mentions a curious custom with regard to the Berber
prince, whom he styles El Gérgeri, or Tegérgeri[115], which even at the
present moment is in full operation in this country, viz., that the
succession went not to his own sons, but to his sister’s sons.[116] This
remarkable fact is a certain proof that it was not a pure Berber state,
but rather a Berber dominion ingrafted upon a Negro population, exactly
as was the case in his time in Waláta. Leo, who first calls the country
by its present Berber name Aïr, states also expressly that it was then
occupied by Tawárek, “Targa populo;”[117] and we learn also from him
that the ruler of Ágades (a town first mentioned by him) was likewise a
Berber[118]: so that it might seem as if the state of the country at
that time was pretty nearly the same as it is now; but such was not the
case.
The name of the Kél-owí is not mentioned either by Leo or any other
writer before the time of Horneman, who, before he set out from Fezzán
on his journey to Bórnu, obtained some very perspicuous information[119]
about these people, as well as about their country Ásben. At that time,
before the rise of the Fúlbe under their reformer (el Jihádi) Othmán the
son of Fódiye, it was a powerful kingdom, to which Góber was tributary.
From Horneman’s expression it would seem that the Kél-owí had conquered
the country only at a comparatively recent date[120]; and this agrees
perfectly with the results of my inquiries, from which I conclude that
it took place about A.D. 1740. However, we have seen that four centuries
before that time the country was in the hands of the Berbers.
It appears that the Kél-owí are traceable from the north-west, and the
nobler part of them belong to the once very powerful and numerous tribe
of the Aurághen, whence their dialect is called Auraghíye even at the
present day. Their name signifies “the people settled in (the district
or valley of) Owí;” for “kél” is exactly identical with the Arabic word
áhel, and seems besides to be applied with especial propriety to
indicate the settled, in opposition to the nomadic tribes. For in
general the characteristic mark of the Kél-owí and their kinsmen is,
that they live in villages consisting of fixed and immovable huts, and
not in tents made of skins, like the other tribes, or in movable huts
made of mats, like the Tagáma and many of the Imghád of the Awelímmiden.
With this prefix kél, may be formed the name of the inhabitants of any
place or country:—Ferwán, Kél-ferwán; Bághzen, Kél-bághzen; Afélle (the
north), Kél-afélle, “the people of the north,” whom the Arabs in
Timbúktu call Áhel e’ Sáhel; and no doubt a Targi, at least of the tribe
of the Awelímmiden or Kél-owí, would call the inhabitants of London Kél-
london or Kél-londra, just as he says Kél-ghadámes, Kél-tawát.
But there is something indeterminate in the name Kél-owí, which has both
a narrower and a wider sense, as is frequently the case with the names
of those tribes which, having become predominant, have grouped around
them and, to a certain extent, even incorporated with themselves many
other tribes which did not originally belong to them. In this wider
sense the name Kél-owí comprises a great many tribes, or rather
sections, generally named after their respective settlements.
I have already observed that the Berbers, in conquering this country
from the Negro, or I should rather say the sub-Libyan race (the
Leucæthiopes of the ancients), did not entirely destroy the latter, but
rather mingled with them by intermarriage with the females, thereby
modifying the original type of their race, and blending the severe and
austere manners and the fine figure of the Berber with the cheerful and
playful character and the darker colour of the African. The way in which
they settled in this country seems to have been very similar to that in
which the ancient Greeks settled in Lycia. For the women appear to have
the superiority over the male sex in the country of Ásben, at least to a
certain extent; so that when a ba-Ásbenchi marries a woman of another
village, she does not leave her dwelling-place to follow her husband,
but he must come to her in her own village. The same principle is shown
in the regulation that the chief of the Kél-owí must not marry a woman
of the Targi blood, but can rear children only from black women or
female slaves.
With respect to the custom that the hereditary power does not descend
from the father to the son, but to the sister’s son,—a custom well known
to be very prevalent not only in many parts of Negroland, but also in
India, at least in Malabar,—it may be supposed to have belonged
originally to the Berber race; for the Azkár, who have preserved their
original manners tolerably pure, have the same custom, but they also
might have adopted it from those tribes (now their subjects—the Imghád)
who conquered the country from the black natives. It may therefore seem
doubtful whether, in the mixed empires of Ghánata[121], Melle[122], and
Waláta[123], this custom belonged to the black natives, or was
introduced by the Berbers. Be this as it may, it is certain that the
noble tribe of the Awelímmiden deem the custom in question shameful, as
exhibiting only the man’s mistrust of his wife’s fidelity; for such is
certainly its foundation.
As for the male portion of the ancient population of Ásben, I suppose it
to have been for the most part exterminated, while the rest was degraded
into the state of domestic slavery, with the distinct understanding that
neither they nor their children should ever be sold out of the country.
The consequence of this covenant has been an entire mixture[124] between
the Berber conquerors and the female part of the former population,
changing the original Berber character entirely, as well in manners and
language as in features and complexion. Indeed, the Háusa language is as
familiar to these people as their Auraghíye, although the men, when
speaking among themselves, generally make use of the latter. The
consequence is, that the Kél-owí are regarded with a sort of contempt by
the purer Berber tribes, who call them slaves (íkelán). But there is
another class of people, not so numerous indeed in Ásben itself as in
the districts bordering upon it; these are the Búzawe, or Abogelíte, a
mixed race, with generally more marked Berber features than the Kél-owí,
but of darker colour and lower stature, while in manners they are
generally very debased, having lost almost entirely that noble carriage
which distinguishes even the most lawless vagabond of pure Targi blood.
These people, who infest all the regions southwards and south-eastwards
from Ásben, are the offspring of Tawárek females with black people, and
may belong either to the Háusa or to the Sónghay race.
What I have here said sets forth the historical view of the state of
things in this country, and is well-known to all the enlightened
natives. The vulgar account of the origin of the Kél-owí from the female
slave of a Tinýlkum who came to Ásben, where she gave birth to a boy who
was the progenitor of the Kél-owí, is obviously nothing but a popular
tale indicating, at the utmost, only some slight connection of this
tribe with the Tinýlkum.
Having thus preliminarily discussed the name of the tribe and the way in
which it settled in the country, I now proceed to give a list, as
complete as possible, of all the divisions or tiúsi (_sing._ tausit).
which compose the great community of the Kél-owí.
The most noble (that is to say, the most elevated, not by purity of
blood, but by authority and rank) of the subdivisions of this tribe at
the present time are the Irólangh, the Amanókalen or sultan family, to
which belongs Ánnur, with no other title than that of Sheikh or Elder
(the original meaning of the word)—“sófo” in Háusa, “ámaghár” or
“ámghár” in Temáshight. The superiority of this section seems to date
only from the time of the present chief’s predecessor, the Kél-ferwán
appearing to have had the ascendancy in earlier times. Though the head
of this family has no title but that of Sheikh, he has nevertheless far
greater power than the amanókal or titular sultan of the Kél-owí, who
resides in Ásodi, and who is at present really nothing more than a
prince in name. The next in authority to Ánnur is Háj ʿAbdúwa, the son
of Ánnur’s eldest sister, and who resides in Táfidet.
The family or clan of the Irólangh which, in the stricter sense of the
word, is called Kél-owí is settled in ten or more villages lying to the
east and the south-east of Tintéllust, the residence of Ánnur, and has
formed an alliance with two other influential and powerful families,
viz. the Kél-azanéres, or people of Azanéres, a village, as I shall have
occasion to explain further on, of great importance on account of its
situation in connection with the salt lakes near Bilma, which constitute
the wealth and the vital principle of this community. On account of this
alliance, the section of the Kél-azanéres affected by it is called
Irólangh wuén Kél-azanéres; and to this section belongs the powerful
chief Lúsu or, properly, el Úsu, who is in reality the second man in the
country on the score of influence.
On the other side, the Irólangh have formed alliance and relationship
with the powerful and numerous tribe of the Ikázkezan, or Ikéshkeshen,
who seem likewise to have sprung from the Aurághen; and on this account
the greater, or at least the more influential, part of the tribe,
including the powerful chief Mghás, is sometimes called Irólangh wuén
Ikázkezan, while, with regard to their dwelling-place Támar, they bear
the name Kél-támar. But this is only one portion of the Ikázkezan.
Another very numerous section of them is partly scattered about
Damerghú, partly settled in a place called Elákwas (or, as it is
generally pronounced, Alákkos), a place between Damerghú and Múnio,
together with a mixed race called Kél-elákwas. The Ikázkezan of this
latter section bear, in their beautiful manly figure and fine
complexion, much more evident traces of the pure Berber blood than the
Irólangh; but they lead a very lawless life, and harass the districts on
the borders of Háusa and Bórnu with predatory incursions, especially
those settled in Elákwas.
There are three tribes whose political relations give them greater
importance, namely, the Kél-táfidet, the Kél-n-Néggaru, and the Kél-
fares. The first of these three, to whom belongs the above-mentioned Háj
ʿAbdúwa, live in Táfidet, a group of three villages lying at the foot of
a considerable mountain-chain thirty miles to the south-east of
Tintéllust, and at the distance of only five good days’ march from
Bilma. The Kél-n-Néggaru form an important family originally settled in
Néggaru, a district to the north of Selúfiet; but at present they live
in Ásodi and in the village Eghellál, and some of them lead a nomadic
life in the valleys of Tin-téggana and Ásada. On account of the present
sultan (who belongs to them) being called Astáfidet, they are now also
named Aushi-n-Astáfidet (the tribe of Astáfidet). The Kél-fares, to whom
belongs the great mʿallem Azóri, who, on account of his learning, is
respected as a prince in the whole country, live in Tin-téyyat, a
village about thirty-five miles E.N.E. from Tintéllust.
I now proceed to name the other sections of the Kél-owí in geographical
order from north to south.
The Fadaye, or Éfadaye, dwell in the district Fáde-angh, containing
several villages, the principal of which is called Zurríka, inhabited by
the Kél-zurríka. The Éfadaye, although they maintain a sort of
independence, are nevertheless regarded as belonging to the community of
the Kél-owí, while another tribe, likewise called from the district
Fáde-angh, namely the Kél-fadaye, are viewed in a different light, and
will therefore be mentioned further on with respect to their political
relation with the sultan of Ágades. The Éfadaye are renowned on account
of their warlike propensities; and to the wild inhabitants of these
districts the Fadaye is a model of a man—“hális.”
The Kél-tédele, who were among the people who attacked the mission, live
in a place called Tédele, a little to the north of Oinu-mákaren.
The Kél-tédek, or Kél-tídik, dwell in Tídik, the village I noticed on
our journey as lying at the northern foot of the large mountain-chain
which forms the beginning of Ásben and Sudán.
The Im-ásrodangh.[125]
The Kél-ghazár, comprising the inhabitants of Selúfiet and those of
Tintágh-odé, who are more generally named Aníslimen, or Merabetín. The
name is formed from _éghazar_, “the valley,” meaning the large valley of
Selúfiet and Tintágh-odé.
The Kél-élar, living in Élar, three hours’ east from Selúfiet in the
mountain-glens.
The Kél-gharús.
The Éndefar.
The Tanútmolet.
The Abírken.
The Tesébet.
The Kél-télak.
The Azaíken.
The Kél-úlli, meaning “the people of the goats,” or goatherds. Another
tribe of the same name among the Awelímmiden I shall have frequent
opportunity of mentioning in the course of my travels, as my chief
protectors during my stay in Timbúktu.
The Fedalála, dwelling, if I am not mistaken, in Fedékel.
The Kél-ásarar, living in Sárara, the village we passed an hour before
reaching Tintéllust.
The Im-ezúkzál, a considerable family living in Ágwau.
The Kél-teget.
The Kél-enúzuk.
The Kél-tákriza.
The Kél-aghellál.
The Kél-tádenak, living in Tádenak, about half a day’s journey east from
Aghellál, and about eleven hour’s west from Tintéllust.
The Kél-wádigi, living in Wádigi, a large village about fifteen miles
west from Tintéllust. This village, in consequence of erroneous native
information, has been hitherto placed near the Isa, or middle course of
the Niger.
The Kél-teghérmat, at present in the village Azauraíden, E.N.E. from
Tintéllust. Of their number is the active chief Háj Makhmúd.
The Kél-erárar, in Erárar, a village three hours from Tintéllust.
The Kél-zéggedan, in Zéggedan, one day and a half from Tintéllust.
The Kél-tághmart, in Tághmart, one day and a half north from the latter.
The Kél-áfarár, in Áfarár, two hours east a little south from Tághmart.
The Im-ékketen, living at present round Azatártar, but originally
settled in the neighbourhood of Ágades.
The Kél-sadáwat.
The Kél-tafíst.
The Kél-ágaten, living in Ágata, a village at the foot of Mount
Belásega.
The Kél-bághzen, for the greatest part herdsmen or shepherds, living
scattered over and around Mount Bághzen. These are Kél-owí; but there is
another tribe, of the Kél-gerés, known by the same name, on account of
their having in former times occupied those seats.
The Kél-chémia, in Chémia.
The Ikádmawen, a numerous tribe living generally in four villages which
lie at the southern foot of Mount Bághzen, and are called respectively
Áfasás (this being the largest of the four), Tagóra, Tamanít, and
Inferéraf. But for a great part of the year they lead rather a nomadic
life.
The Kél-ajéru, in Ajéru, a village situate in the upper part of the
valley, in the lower part of which lies Áfasás. Here resides another
important personage of the name of Háj Makhmúd.
The Ítegén.
The Kél-idákka, in Idákka, the native place of the mother of Astáfidet,
the amanókal of the Kél-owí.
The Kél-tezárenet, in Tezárenet, a district rich in date-trees.
The Kél-tawár.
The Kél-táfasás (?). I am not quite certain with regard to this name.
The Kél-táranet.
The Kél-átarár, living in the neighbourhood of Ágades, and having but an
indifferent reputation.
The Kél-aríl.
The Im-ersúten.
The Kél-azelálet.
The Kél-anuwísheren, in Timázgaren (?).
The Kél-táferaut.
The Kél-aghrímmat.
The Kél-awéllat.
All these tribes in a certain degree belong to the body of the Kél-owí,
whose nominal chief, if I may so call him, is the amanókal residing in
Ásodi: but there is now another greater association or confederation,
formed by the Kél-owí, the Kél-gerés, and the Itísan and some other
smaller tribes combined together; and the head of this confederation is
the great amanókal residing in Ágades. This league, which at present
hardly subsists (the Kél-gerés and Itísan having been driven by the Kél-
owí from their original settlements, and being opposed to them almost
constantly in open hostility), was evidently in former times very strong
and close.
But before speaking of the Kél-gerés and their intimate friends the
Itísan, I shall mention those small tribes which, though not regarded as
belonging to the body of the Kél-owí and placed under the special and
direct supremacy or government of the sultan of Ágades, are nevertheless
more intimately related to them than to the other great tribes. These
are, besides the Ém-egédesen[126], or the inhabitants of Ágades or
Ágadez, of whom I shall speak in the account of my journey to that
interesting place, the three tribes of the Kél-fadaye, the Kél-ferwán,
and the Izeráren.
As for the Kél-fadaye, they are the original and real inhabitants of the
district Fáde-angh, which lies round Tághajít, while the Éfadaye, who
have been called after the same district, are rather a mixture of
vagabonds flocking here from different quarters, and principally from
that of the Azkár. But the Kél-fadaye, who, as well as their neighbours
the Éfadaye, took part in the ghazzia against the expedition on the
frontiers of Aïr, are a very turbulent set of people, being regarded in
this light by the natives themselves, as appears from the letter of the
sultan of Ágades to the chiefs Ánnur and Lúsu, of which I brought back a
copy, wherein they are called Mehárebín[127], or freebooters.
Nevertheless they are of pure and noble Berber blood, and renowned for
their valour; and I was greatly astonished to learn afterwards from my
noble and intimate friend and protector the sheikh Sídi Ahmed el Bakáy,
that he had married one of their daughters, and had long resided amongst
them. Even from the letter of the sultan of Ágades it appears that they
have some relations with the Awelímmiden. The name of their chief is
Shúrwa.
The Kél-ferwán, though they are called after the fine and fertile place
I-ferwán, in one of the valleys to the east of Tintághodé, where a good
deal of millet is sown, and where there are plenty of date-trees, do not
all reside there at present, a numerous portion of them having settled
in the neighbourhood of Ágades, whence they make continual marauding
expeditions, or “égehen,” upon the Timbúktu road, and against the
Awelímmiden. Nevertheless the Kél-ferwán, as the kinsmen of the
Aurághen, and as the Amanókalen (that is to say the clan to which,
before the different tribes came to the decision of fetching their
sultan from Sókoto, the family of the sultan belonged), are of nobler
and purer blood than any of the rest. As an evidence of their former
nobility, the custom still remains, that, when the sultan of Ágades
leaves the town for any length of time, his deputy or lieutenant in the
place is the chief of the Kél-ferwán.
The third tribe of those who are under the direct authority of the
sultan of Ágades, viz. the Izeráren, live between Ágades and Damerghú.
But I did not come into contact with them.
The Kél-gerés and Itísan seem to have been originally situated in the
fertile and partially-beautiful districts round the Bághzen, or (as
these southern tribes pronounce the name in their dialect) Mághzem,
where, on our journey towards Damerghú, we found the well-built stone
houses in which they had formerly dwelt.
On being driven out of their original seats by the Kél-owí, about
twenty-five or thirty years ago, they settled towards the west and
south-west of Ágades, in a territory which was probably given them by
the Awelímmiden, with an intention hostile to the Kél-owí. From that
time they have been alternately in bloody feud or on amicable terms with
the Kél-owí; but a sanguinary war has recently (in 1854) broken out
again between these tribes, which seems to have consumed the very
sources of their strength, and cost the lives of many of my friends, and
among them that of Hámma, the son-in-law of Ánnur. The principal
dwelling-place of the Kél-gerés is Árar, while their chief market-place
is said to be Jóbeli, on the road from Ágades to Sókoto.
The Kél-gerés and the Itísan together are equal in effective strength to
the Kél-owí, though they are not so numerous, the latter being certainly
able to collect a force of at least ten thousand armed men all mounted,
besides their slaves, while the former are scarcely able to furnish half
as many. But the Kél-gerés and Itísan have the advantage of greater
unity, while the interests of the various tribes of the Kél-owí are
continually clashing, and very rarely allow the whole body to collect
together, though exceptions occur, as in the expedition against the
Welád Slimán, when they drove away all the camels (according to report,
not less than fifty thousand), and took possession of the salt lakes
near Bilma.
Moreover the Kél-gerés and Itísan, having preserved their Berber
character in a purer state, are much more warlike. Their force consists
for the greater part of well-mounted cavalry, while the Kél-owí, with
the exception of the Ikázkezan, can muster but few horses; and of course
the advantage of the horseman over the camel-driver is very great either
in open or close fight. The Kél-gerés have repeatedly fought with
success even against the Awelímmiden, by whom they are called Aráuwen.
They have even killed their last famous chief E’ Nábegha. The Kél-gerés
came under the notice of Clapperton, on account of the unfortunate
expedition which they undertook against the territories of the Fúlbe in
the year 1823, though it seems that the expedition consisted chiefly of
Tagáma, and that they were the principal sufferers in that wholesale
destruction by Sultan Bello.
Their arms in general are the same as those of the Kél-owí, even the men
on horseback bearing (besides the spear, the sword, and the dagger) the
immense shield of antelope-hide, with which they very expertly protect
themselves and their horses; but some of them use bows and arrows even
on horseback, like many of the Fúlbe, in the same way as the ancient
Assyrians. A few only have muskets, and those few keep them rather for
show than for actual use.
The Itísan[128] (who seem to be the nobler tribe of the two, and, as far
as I was able to judge, are a very fine race of men, with expressive,
sharply-cut features, and a very light complexion) have a chief or
amanókal of their own, whose position seems to resemble closely that of
the sultan of the Kél-owí, while the real influence and authority rests
with the war-chiefs, támbelis, or támberis, the most powerful among whom
were, in 1853, Wanagóda, who resides in Tswáji near Góber, on the side
of the Kél-gerés, and Maiwa, or Mʿoáwíya, in Gulluntsúna, on the side of
the Itísan. The name of the present amanókal is Ghámbelu.
I now proceed to enumerate the subdivisions of the two tribes, as far as
I was able to learn them, and first those of the Itísan:—the Kél-tagáy,
the Télamsé, the Máfinet or Máfidet, the Tesídderak, the Kél-mághzem,
the Álaren, the Kél-innik, the Kél-dugá, the Kél-úye, and the Kél-
ághelel. Probably also the Ijdánarnén[129], or Jedánarnén, and the Kél-
manen belong to them. The following are the principal subdivisions of
the Kél-gerés:—the Kél-téghzeren or Tadmúkkeren, the Kél-úngwar, the
Kél-garet, the Kél-n-sábtafan, or Kél-n-sáttafan[130], the Kél-tadéni,
the Tadáda, the Tagáyes, the Tilkátine[131], the Iberúbat with the
támberi Al-Hássan, the Táshil, the Tagínna, the Kél-azar, the Íghalaf
(pronounced Íralaf), the Toiyámmawa[132], the Isóka, the Tegíbbu, the
Raina, the Túji. Among the Kél-gerés is a noble family called in the
Arab form Áhel e’ Sheikh, which is distinguished for its learning, their
chief and most learned man being at present Sídi Makhmúd.
I must here state that, in political respects, another tribe at present
is closely related with the Kél-gerés, viz., that section of the
Awelímmiden (the “Surka” of Mungo Park) which is called Awelímmiden wuén
Bodhál; but as these belong rather to the Tawárek or Imóshagh of the
west, I shall treat of them in the narrative of my journey to Timbúktu.
Other tribes settled near Ágades, and more particularly the very
remarkable tribe of the Íghdalén, will, in consequence of the influence
exerted on them by the Sónghay race, be spoken of in my account of that
place.
Many valleys of Aïr or Ásben[133] might produce much more than they do
at present; but as almost the whole supply of provision is imported, as
well as all the clothing-material, it is evident that the population
could not be so numerous as it is, were it not sustained by the salt
trade of Bilma, which furnishes the people with the means of bartering
advantageously with Háusa. As far as I was able to learn from personal
information, it would seem that this trade did not take the road by way
of Ásben till about a century ago, consequently not before the country
was occupied by the Kél-owí. It is natural to suppose that so long as
the Tébu, or rather Tedá, retained political strength, they would not
allow strangers to reap the whole advantage of such natural wealth.[134]
At present the whole authority of Ánnur as well as Lúsu seems to be
based upon this trade, of which they are the steady protectors, while
many of their nation deem this trade rather a degrading occupation, and
incline much more to a roving life.
I now return to our encampment near Tintéllust, reserving a brief
account of the general features of the country till the moment when we
are about to leave it.
[Footnote 108: Leo Africanus, Descrizione dell’ Africa, i. c. 6: “E
_Air_, diserto ancora esso, ma nomato dalla bontà dell’ aere.” This
derivation of the name is manifestly apocryphal. Comp. l. vi. cc. 55.
56.]
[Footnote 109: Ebn Batúta’s Travels, ed. Lee, p. 45. Compare Journal
Asiatique, 1843, p. 237.]
[Footnote 110: Leo, l. vi. c. 55. Ebn Batúta counts seventy days’ march
from Tekádda to Tawát, or rather Búda. Now we shall see that Tekádda is
situated three days south-west from Ágades, while, from what the
traveller says about the place where the road to Egypt separated from
that to Tawát, it is evident that he went by Asïu, or rather that the
place just mentioned was identical with Asïu. Asïu, then, forty days
from Tawát, was thirty days from Tekádda; Káher therefore, being distant
eighteen days from Asïu, was twelve days from Tekádda, and was somewhere
between the parallels of Selúfiet and Tintéllust, but rather, as we see
from the sterile character of the country through which he travelled,
and from the situation of Tekádda, in the more barren district to the
west. About Tekádda I shall have to speak further on.]
[Footnote 111: The Tawárek, as well the Kél-owi as all the other tribes,
constantly write [Symbols: ⵔⵢⴰ] (Aïr); and the reason why the Arabs
write اهير is simply to avoid the obscenity of أَيْرٌ (_veretrum_).]
[Footnote 112: Denham and Clapperton’s Travels, vol. ii. p. 162.]
[Footnote 113: I have spoken about the word “tin” before. I have strong
reason for supposing that the original name of the place was Ansamán.]
[Footnote 114: Ebn Batúta, Journal Asiatique, 1843, série iv. vol. i. p.
188.; Cooley, Negroland, p. 17.]
[Footnote 115: It seems to be the title of his kingdom, so that we may
translate it rather “the ruler of Kerker” or Gerger. See Cooley, p.
107., who first pointed out that Kerker was not a mere clerical error
for Kaúkaú. But what this learned gentleman says at p. 109. is based
upon wrong information, there being no such town as Birni-n-Gurgar in
Háusa. The real name of the place is Góga. It is also impossible that
the name Gérgeri can have anything to do with the pagan tribe Kerékeré.]
[Footnote 116: Ebn Batúta, p. 237.]
[Footnote 117: Leo, l. vi. c. 56.]
[Footnote 118: _Ibid._ i. c. 10., towards the end.]
[Footnote 119: Horneman’s Journal, 1802, p. 109. fl.]
[Footnote 120: That was also what Major Rennell concluded from the
traveller’s expression when he says, p. 181., “From recent conquest it
would seem,” &c. I think that the Kél-owí may have formerly borne
another name, and received this name only from a place where they were
settled. I would not refer to the Cillaba mentioned by Pliny, l. v. c.
5. The name Kél-owí is properly a plural form.]
[Footnote 121: Ábu ʿObeid Alla el Bekri el Kórtobi, Notices et Extraits,
vol. xii. p. 644.]
[Footnote 122: With regard to Melle see what Leo says, l. i. c. 10.
fin., “E quello (rè) che fù di Melli è dell’ origine del popolo di
Zanaga.”]
[Footnote 123: Ebn Batúta, p. 234., ed. Lee. He says, “And the sister’s
son always succeeds to property in preference to the son, a custom I
witnessed nowhere else except among the infidel Hindoos of Malabar.” But
the traveller forgot that he had soon to relate the same of the Gérgeri
dynasty (see above, p. 338.); or rather the learned man who was ordered
to publish his journal did not correct the expression, which, at the
time when Ebn Batúta made his memorandum of his stay in Waláta, may have
been quite true.]
[Footnote 124: This circumstance explains a curious fact in Mr. Koelle’s
Polyglotta Africana, a work of the greatest merit, but in which, on
account of the immense ground over which it extends, some errors must be
expected. One of the most unfortunate examples in this respect are his
specimens of a language called Kándín (xii. C.). Now the name Kándín is
quite inadmissible in ethnography, being a name given to the Imóshagh or
Tawárek only by the Kanúri people, to say nothing of the very odd
geographical blunder involved in the expression “Absen, a town of
Egades.” But the specimens of the language which Mr. Koelle gives under
this head are a curious mixture of Targíye, Háusa, and even some Kanúri
terms; and his informant, Abárshi (a very common name in Ásben), was
most probably a slave by origin, at least not a free man, even before he
was enslaved by the Kanúri. But these specimens are not uninteresting,
giving a fair idea of the state of things in the country, although any
respectable native would be ashamed to mix Háusa and Berber terms in
this way; and moreover the latter as given here are mostly corrupted
from the very beginning, for “one” is not díyen, but íyen, and the _d_
is only added in composition, as meráw d’íyen, meráw d’esín—“eleven,”
“twelve,” &c.]
[Footnote 125: _Im_, or _em_, in composition is almost identical with
_kél_, meaning “the people of,” “the inhabitants of.”]
[Footnote 126: This name clearly shows that the final consonant of the
name of the great town is not distinctly a ز (z), though the Arabs
generally write it so. In fact, as I shall have to state further on, it
was originally _sh_. From Ém-egédesen is formed Ém-egedesíye, “the
language of the people of Ágades.”]
[Footnote 127: Mehárebi—محَاربي—though not to be found in our
dictionaries, is a very common word with the Mohammedans all over
Central Africa, and is regularly formed from “hareb,” حرب, quite in the
same way as meháres, the common name given in Morocco to a guard or
escort, from “hares.” The emír Hámedu of Hamd-Alláhi did me the honour
to call me by this name, on account of the resistance I made to his
attempt to seize me and my property during my stay in Timbúktu; and I do
not doubt that the following passage in one of the angry and learned
letters which he wrote to my protector the sheikh El Bakáy, will have
some interest for such of my readers as understand Arabic:—
ولم نفطز بذلك محاربتك بل الذي حاربناه النصرانى الكافر الذي حارب الله
ورسوله وهو حرب ورثناه من الاباء والاجداد ادى هلم جرا وحضنا عليه ربّنا
ووعدنا فيه اجرا ودخرا
But his sacrilegious wishes were not fulfilled.]
[Footnote 128: It has been concluded (though erroneously, as the
following will show) from the circumstance of the joint salt-caravan of
the Itísan and Kél-gerés, in the letter of the sultan of Ágades, being
called only after the former tribe, that these two tribes were
identical. The Itísan, as “Benú Itísan,” are mentioned by Ebn Khaldún
among the clans of the Sanhája, vol. i. p. 195., Arab. t.; vol. ii. p.
3., trad. par le baron de Slane.]
[Footnote 129: These, in the form of Ajdaranín, are mentioned by Bello,
in his geographical introduction to his historical work (Clapperton’s
Travels, Appendix II. p. 160.), among the first Berber tribes who came
from Aújila and took Ahír (Aïr) from the Sudán inhabitants of Góber.]
[Footnote 130: This is the tribe of which Bello speaks (Clapperton’s
Travels, ii. p. 160.) when he says “they appointed a person of the
family of Ansatfen.” But his knowledge of the Tawárek was very
insufficient; and the chapter to which that passage belongs is full of
confusion.]
[Footnote 131: The tribe of the Tilkátine, appearing here among the
clans of the Kél-gerés, is of the highest historical interest; for there
can be no doubt of their being identical with the tribe of the Tel-káta
mentioned by Ebn Khaldún (vol. i. p. 195. Arab. t., vol. ii. p. 3. trad.
par le baron de Slane) as the most noble and predominant among all the
sections of the Sanhája.]
[Footnote 132: The form of this name seems to indicate the sub-Libyan
influence which this subdivision has undergone.]
[Footnote 133: The list of all the villages and towns of Aïr, given in
the note at the end of the first volume of Mr. Richardson’s Journal, is
in general, I think, exact; there are only two mistakes of
importance—with regard to the population of Talázeghrín, and that of
Áfasás (p. 341.), each of which places is stated to have 1000 male
inhabitants, while the whole population scarcely reaches that number. On
the other hand, the estimate of the population of Ágades at 2500 (p.
343.) is too low. Besides, some places are left out there, such as
Iséllef, the residence of Dídi’s wife, and some others. I have to regret
the loss of a paper which I sent home from Aïr, where a topographical
arrangement of the villages had been attempted.]
[Footnote 134: In the account of the expedition of the Bórnu king Edrís
Alawóma, of which I shall have to speak in the second volume, no mention
is made of this salt-trade of the Tébu; but from this silence no
conclusion can be drawn as to the non-existence of the salt-trade at
that time. On the contrary, we may conclude from the interesting account
of Edrísi (transl. Jaubert, vol. i. p. 117. f.) who certainly means to
speak of the salt-trade of the Tébu country, although he uses the term
“alum,” that this article formed a very important staple in remote
times.]
CHAP. XV.
RESIDENCE IN TINTÉLLUST.
We saw the old chief on the day following our arrival. He received us in
a straightforward and kindly manner, observing very simply that even if,
as Christians, we had come to his country stained with guilt, the many
dangers and difficulties we had gone through would have sufficed to wash
us clean, and that we had nothing now to fear but the climate and the
thieves. The presents which were spread out before him he received
graciously, but without saying a single word. Of hospitality he showed
no sign. All this was characteristic.
We soon received further explanations. Some days afterwards he sent us
the simple and unmistakable message, that if we wished to proceed to
Sudán at our own risk, we might go in company with the caravan, and he
would place no obstacle in our way; but if we wanted him to go with us
and to protect us, we ought to pay him a considerable sum. In stating
these plain terms, he made use of a very expressive simile, saying that
as the leffa (or snake) killed everything that she touched, so his word,
when it had once escaped his lips, had terminated the matter in
question—there was nothing more to be said. I do not think this such an
instance of shameful extortion as Mr. Richardson represents it,
considering how much we gave to others who did nothing for their pay,
and how much trouble we caused Ánnur. On the contrary, having observed
Ánnur’s dealings to the very last, and having arrived under his
protection safely at Kátsena, I must pronounce him a straightforward and
trustworthy man, who stated his terms plainly and dryly, but stuck to
them with scrupulosity; and as he did not treat us, neither did he ask
anything[135] from us, nor allow his people to do so. I shall never
forgive him for his niggardliness in not offering me so much as a drink
of fura or ghussub-water when I visited him, in the heat of the day, on
his little estate near Tasáwa; but I cannot withhold from him my esteem
both as a great politician in his curious little empire, and as a man
remarkable for singleness of word and purpose.
Having come into the country as hated intruders pursued by all classes
of people, we could not expect to be received by him otherwise than
coldly; but his manner changed entirely when I was about to set out for
Ágades, in order to obtain the goodwill of the sultan of the country. He
came to our encampment to see me off, and from that day forth did not
omit to visit us every day, and to maintain the most familiar
intercourse with us. So it was with all the people; and I formed so many
friendships with them, that the turbulent Mohammed, Ánnur’s cousin, used
often to point to them as a proof how impossible it was that he could
have been the instigator of the misdeeds perpetrated on the night
preceding our arrival in Tintéllust, when we were treated with violence,
and our luggage was rifled. Still we had, of course, many disagreeable
experiences to make before we became naturalized in this new country.
It was the rainy season; and the rain setting in almost daily, caused us
as much interest and delight (being a certain proof that we had reached
the new regions after which we had so long been hankering) as served to
counterbalance the trouble which it occasioned. Sometimes it fell very
heavily, and, coming on always with a dreadful storm, was very difficult
to be kept out from the tent, so that our things often got wet. The
heaviest rain we had was on the 9th of September, when an immense
torrent was formed, not only in the chief valley, but even in the small
ravine behind our encampment. Yet we liked the rain much better than the
sand-storm. In a few days nature all around assumed so fresh and
luxuriant a character, that so long as we were left in repose, we felt
cheered to the utmost, and enjoyed our pleasant encampment, which was
surrounded by masses of granite blocks, wide-spreading bushes of the
abísga, and large luxuriant talha-trees, in wild and most picturesque
confusion. It was very pleasant and interesting to observe, every day,
the rapid growth of the little fresh leaves and young offshoots, and the
spreading of the shady foliage.
Monkeys now and then descended into the little hollow beyond our tents
to obtain a draught of water; and numbers of jackals were heard every
night roving about us, while the trees swarmed with beautiful ring-doves
and hoopoes and other smaller birds. The climate of Aïr has been
celebrated from the time of Leo, on account “della bontà e temperanza
dell’ aere.” But unfortunately our little English suburb proved too
distant from the protecting arm of the old chief; and after the
unfortunate attack in the night of the 17th of September, which if made
with vigour would inevitably have ended in our destruction, we were
obliged to remove our encampment, and, crossing the broad valley, pitch
it in the plain near the village.
But the circumstances connected with this attack were so curious that I
must relate them, in a few words. The rain, which had wetted all our
things, and made us anxious about our instruments and arms, seemed to
abate; and Overweg and I decided the very day preceding the attack in
question, on cleaning our guns and pistols, which had been loaded for
some time; and having cleaned them, and wishing to dry them well, we did
not load them again immediately. In the afternoon we had a visit from
two well-dressed men mounted on mehára; they did not beg for anything,
but inspected the tents very attentively, making the remark that our
tent was as strong as a house, while Mr. Richardson’s was light and open
at the bottom.
The moon shed a splendid light over the interesting wilderness; and our
black servants being uncommonly cheerful and gay that night, music and
dancing was going on in the village, and they continued playing till a
very late hour, when they fell asleep. Going the round of our encampment
before I went to lie down, I observed at a little distance a strange
camel, or rather méheri, kneeling quietly down with its head towards our
tents. I called my colleagues, and expressed my suspicion that all was
not right; but our light-hearted and frivolous servant Mohammed calmed
my uneasiness by pretending that he had seen the camel there before,
though that was not true. Still I had some sad foreboding, and,
directing my attention unluckily to the wrong point, caused our sheep to
be tied close to our tent.
Being uneasy, I did not sleep soundly; and a little after two o’clock I
thought I heard a very strange noise, just as if a troop of people were
marching with a steady step round our tents, and muttering in a jarring
voice. Listening anxiously for a moment, I felt sure that there were
people near the tent, and was about to rush out; but again, on hearing
the sound of music proceeding from the village, I persuaded myself that
the noise came from thence, and lay down to slumber, when suddenly I
heard a louder noise, as if several men were rushing up the hill, and,
grasping a sword and calling aloud for our people, I jumped out of the
tent; but there was nobody to be seen. Going then round the hill to Mr.
Richardson’s tent, I met him coming out half-dressed, and begging me to
pursue the robbers, who had carried away some of his things. Some of his
boxes were dragged out of the tent, but not emptied: none of his
servants were to be seen except Sʿaid, all the rest having run away
without even giving an alarm; so that all of us might have been
murdered.
But immediately after this accident we received the distinct assurance
of protection both from the sultan of Ágades and from the great mʿallem
Azóri; and I began to plan my excursion to Ágades more definitely, and
entered into communication with the chief on this point. Meanwhile I
collected a great deal of information[136] about the country, partly
from a Tawáti of the name of ʿAbd el Káder (not the same who accompanied
us on the road from Ghát), and partly from some of the Tinýlkum, who,
having left us the day after our arrival in Tin-téllust, had dispersed
all over the country, some pasturing their camels in the most favoured
localities, others engaged in little trading speculations, and paying us
a visit every now and then. Small caravans came and went, and among them
one from Sudán, with its goods laden almost entirely on pack-oxen,—a
most cheerful sight, filling our hearts with the utmost delight, as we
were sure that we had now passed those dreary deserts where nothing but
the persevering and abstemious camel can enable man to maintain
communications.
At length, then, we were enabled to write to Government, and to our
friends in Europe, assuring them that we had now overcome, apparently,
most of the difficulties which appeared likely to oppose our progress,
and that we felt justified in believing that we had now fairly entered
upon the road which would lead directly to the attainment of the objects
of the expedition.
With regard to our provisions, Overweg and I were at first rather ill
off, while Mr. Richardson, although he had been obliged to supply food
on the road to troops both of friends and foes, had still a small
remnant of the considerable stores which he had laid in at Múrzuk. We
had been led to expect that we should find no difficulty in procuring
all necessaries, and even a few luxuries, in Ásben (and carriage was so
dear that we were obliged to rely upon these promises); but we were now
sadly disappointed. After a few days, however, the inhabitants being
informed that we were in want of provisions, and were ready to buy,
brought us small quantities of Guinea corn, butter—the botta (or box
made of rough hide, in the way common over almost the whole of Central
Africa) for two or two and a half mithkáls,—and even a little fresh
cheese; we were also able to buy two or three goats, and by sending
Ibrahím, who had now recovered from his guineaworm, to Ásodi, where
provisions are always stored up in small quantities, we obtained a
tolerable camel-load of durra or sorghum.
But I could not relish this grain at all, and as I was not able to
introduce any variety into my diet, I suffered much; hence it was
fortunate for me that I went to Ágades, where my food was more varied,
and my health consequently improved. I afterwards became accustomed to
the various preparations of sorghum and _Pennisetum_, particularly the
asída or túvo, and found that no other food is so well adapted for a hot
climate; but it requires a great deal of labour to prepare it well, and
this of course is a difficult matter for a European traveller, who has
no female slave or partner to look after his meals. Our food during our
stay in Ásben was so ill-prepared (being generally quite bitter, owing
to the husk not being perfectly separated from the grain) that no native
of the country would taste it.
Meanwhile my negotiation with the chief, with regard to my going to
Ágades, which I managed as silently and secretly as possible, went on
prosperously; and on the 30th of September I took my leave of him,
having with me on the occasion a present for himself, worth about eighty
riyáls, or eleven pounds sterling, and the presents intended for the
sultan of Ágades, in order that he might see what they were and express
his opinion upon them; and I was greatly pleased to find that he was
satisfied with both. He promised me perfect safety, although the
undertaking looked a little dangerous, and had a letter written to ʿAbd
el Káder (or, in the popular form, Kádiri—this was the name of the new
sultan), wherein he recommended me to him in the strongest terms, and
enumerated the presents I meant to offer to him.
But as soon as my intention transpired, all the people, uninvited as
well as invited, hastened to give me their best advice, and to dissuade
me from embarking in an undertaking which would certainly be my ruin.
Conspicuous among these motley counsellors was a son of Háj ʿAbdúwa, the
presumptive heir of Ánnur, who conjured me to abandon my design. These
people, indeed, succeeded in frightening Yusuf Mákni, Mr. Richardson’s
interpreter, whom the latter wished to send with me; but as for myself,
I knew what I was about, and had full confidence in the old chief’s
promise, and was rather glad to get rid of Mákni, whom I well knew to be
a clever, but no less malicious and intriguing person. With difficulty I
persuaded Mohammed, our Tunisian shushán, to accompany me; and I also
succeeded in hiring Amánkay, Mr. Richardson’s active black Búzu servant,
who, however, on this trip proved utterly useless, as we had no sooner
set out than he began to suffer from his old complaint of guineaworm,
and was the whole time too lame for service.
I then arranged with Hámma, Ánnur’s son-in-law, under whose especial
protection I was to undertake my journey, but whom I had to pay
separately. I gave him the value of eleven mithkals, or about one pound
sterling, for himself, and hired from him two camels, each for six
mithkáls. After various delays, which, however, enabled me to send off
two more of my journals, together with letters, to Múrzuk, by the hand
of a half-caste Kél-owí of the name of Báwa Amákita, our departure was
definitively fixed for the 4th of October.
[Footnote 135: The little trifles which we gave him occasionally are
scarcely worth mentioning.]
[Footnote 136: That part of my information which regarded the topography
of the country, and which I forwarded during our stay there, has
unfortunately been lost.]
CHAP. XVI.
JOURNEY TO ÁGADES.
[Sidenote: Friday, October 4th.]
At length the day arrived when I was to set out on my long-wished-for
excursion to Ágades. For although at that time I was not aware of the
whole extent of interest attaching to that place, it had nevertheless
been to me a point of the strongest attraction. For what can be more
interesting than a considerable town, said to have been once as large
as Tunis, situated in the midst of lawless tribes, on the border of
the desert and of the fertile tracts of an almost unknown continent,
established there from ancient times, and protected as a place of
rendezvous and commerce between nations of the most different
character, and having the most various wants. It is by mere accident
that this town has not attracted as much interest in Europe as her
sister town Timbúktu.
It was a fine morning with a healthy and refreshing light breeze,
invigorating both body and mind. The old chief, who had never before
visited our encampment, now came out to pay us his compliments, assuring
me once more, that “my safety rested upon his head.” But his heart was
so gladdened at witnessing our efforts to befriend the other great men
of his country, that his habitual niggardliness was overcome, and with
graceful hospitality he resigned one of his bullocks to our party.
The little caravan I was to accompany consisted of six camels, five and
thirty asses, and two bullocks, one of which was allotted to me, till my
protector Hámma should be able to hire a camel for me. But although well
accustomed to ride on horseback as well as on a camel, I had never yet
in my life tried to sit astride on the broad back of a bullock; and the
affair was the more difficult as there was no saddle, nor anything to
sit upon, except parcels of luggage not very tightly fastened to the
animal’s back, and swinging from one side to the other.
After the first bullock had been rejected, as quite unfit, in its wild,
intractable mood, to carry me, or indeed anything else, and when it had
been allowed to return to the herd, the second was at length secured,
the luggage fastened somehow on his back, and I was bid to mount. I must
truly confess that I should have been better pleased with a horse, or
even an ass; but still, hoping to manage matters, I took my seat, and,
bidding my fellow-travellers farewell, followed my black companions up
the broad valley by which we had come from the north. But we soon left
it and ascended the rocky ground, getting an interesting view of the
broad and massive Mount Eghellál before us.
Having at first thought my seat rather too insecure for making
observations, I grew by degrees a little more confident, and, taking out
my compass, noted the direction of the road, when suddenly the baggage
threatened to fall over to the right, whereupon I threw the whole weight
of my body to the left, in order to keep the balance; but I unluckily
overdid it, and so all at once down I came, with the whole baggage. The
ground was rocky; and I should inevitably have been hurt not a little,
if I had not fallen upon the muzzle of my musket, which I was carrying
on my shoulder, and which being very strong, sustained the shock, and
kept my head from the ground. Even my compass, which I had open in my
left hand, most fortunately escaped uninjured; and I felt extremely glad
that I had fallen so adroitly, but vowed never again to mount a bullock.
I preferred marching on foot till we reached the valley Eghellúwa, where
plenty of water is found in several wells. Here we halted a moment, and
I mounted behind Hámma, on the lean back of his camel, holding on by his
saddle; but I could not much enjoy my seat, as I was greatly annoyed by
his gun sticking out on the right, and at every moment menacing my face.
I was therefore much pleased when we reached the little village of
Tigger-éresa lying on the border of a broad valley well clothed with
talha-trees, and a little further on encamped in a pleasant recess
formed by projecting masses of granite blocks; for here I was told we
should surely find camels, and in fact Hámma hired two for me, for four
mithkáls each, to go to and return from Ágades. Here we also changed our
companions, the very intelligent Mohammed, a son of one of Ánnur’s
sisters, returning to Tintéllust, while the turbulent Mohammed (I called
him by no other name than Mohammed bábo hánkali), our friend from Afís,
came to attend us, and with him Hámmeda, a cheerful and amiable old man,
who was a fair specimen of the improvement derivable from the mixture of
different blood and of different national qualities; for while he
possessed all the cheerfulness and vivacity of the Góber nation, his
demeanour was nevertheless moderated by the soberness and gravity
peculiar to the Berber race, and though, while always busy, he was not
effectively industrious, yet his character approached very closely to
the European standard.
He was by trade a blacksmith, a more comprehensive profession in these
countries than in Europe, although in general these famous blacksmiths
have neither iron nor tools to work with. All over the Tawárek country
the “énhad” (smith) is much respected, and the confraternity is most
numerous. An “énhad” is generally the prime minister of every little
chief. The Arabs in Timbúktu call these blacksmiths “mʿallem,” which may
give an idea of their high rank and respected character. Then there is
also the “mʿallema,” the constant female companion of the chief’s wife,
expert above all in beautiful leather works.
In order to avoid, as much as possible, attracting the attention of the
natives, I had taken no tent with me, and sheltered myself at night
under the projecting roof of the granite blocks, my Kél-owí friends
sleeping around me.
[Sidenote: Saturday, October 5th.]
Hámma was so good as to give up to me his fine tall méheri, while he
placed his simple little saddle or “kíri” on the back of the young and
ill-trained camel hired here, a proceeding which in the course of our
journey almost cost him his ribs. In truth I had no saddle; yet my seat
was arranged comfortably by placing first two leathern bags filled with
soft articles across the back of the camel, and then fastening two
others over them lengthwise, and spreading my carpet over all. Even for
carrying their salt, the Kél-owí very rarely employ saddles, or if they
do, only of the lightest description, made of straw, which have nothing
in common with the heavy and hot “hawiya” of the Arabs.
[Illustration]
The country through which we travelled was a picturesque wilderness,
with rocky ground intersected at every moment by winding valleys and dry
watercourses richly overgrown with grasses and mimosas, while majestic
mountains and detached peaks towered over the landscape, the most
interesting object during the whole day being Mount Cheréka, with its
curious double peak, as it appeared from various sides, first looking as
if it were a single peak, only bifurcated at the top, then after a while
showing two peaks separated almost to the very base and rising in
picturesque forms nearly to the same elevation. Unfortunately our road
did not lead us near it, although I was as anxious to explore this
singular mountain as to visit the town of Ásodi, which some years ago
attracted attention in Europe. We had sent a present to Astáfidet, the
chief of the Kél-owí residing here, and probably I should have been well
received; but Hámma would not hear of our going there now, so we left
the town at no great distance to the right, and I must content myself
with here inserting the information obtained from other people who had
been there repeatedly.
[Illustration]
Ásodi[137], lying at no great distance from the foot of Mount Cheréka,
which forms the most characteristic feature of the surrounding
landscape, was once an important place, and a great resort for
merchants, though, as it is not mentioned by any Arabic writer, not even
by Leo, it would seem to be of much later origin than Ágades. Above a
thousand houses built of clay and stone lie at present in ruins, while
only about eighty are still inhabited; this would testify that it was
once a comparatively considerable place, with from eight to ten thousand
inhabitants. Such an estimate of its magnitude is confirmed by the fact
that there were seven tamizgídas, or mosques, in the town, the largest
of which was ornamented with columns, the “mamber” alone being decorated
with three, while the naves were covered in partly with a double roof
made of the stems of the dúm-tree, and partly with cupolas.
The town, however, seems never to have been inclosed with a wall, and in
this respect, as well as in its size, was always inferior to Ágades. At
present, although the population is scattered about, the market of Ásodi
is still well provided with provisions, and even with the more common
merchandise. The house of the amanókal of the Kél-owí is said to stand
on a little eminence in the western part of the town, surrounded by
about twenty cottages. There is no well inside, all the water being
fetched from a well which lies in a valley stretching from north to
south.
Conversing with my companions about this place, which we left at a short
distance to our right, and having before us the interesting picture of
the mountain-range of Búnday, with its neighbouring heights, forming one
continuous group with Mount Eghellál, we reached the fine valley
Chizólen, and rested in it during the hottest hours of the day under a
beautiful talha-tree, while the various beasts composing our little
caravan found a rich pasturage all around.
[Illustration]
Having taken here a sufficient supply of very good water from hollows
scooped in the sand, we continued our march over rocky ground thickly
covered with herbage, and surmounted on our right by the angular
outlines and isolated sugar-loafs of a craggy ridge, while on our left
rose the broad majestic form of Mount Eghellál. As evening came on I was
greatly cheered at the sight of a herd of well-fed cattle returning from
their pasture-grounds to their night-quarters near the village of
Eghellál, which lies at the foot of the mountain so named. They were
fine sturdy bullocks of moderate size, all with the hump, and of glossy
dark-brown colour.
In the distance, as the Eghellál began to retire, there appeared behind
it in faint outlines Mount Bághzen, which of late years has become so
famous in Europe, and had filled my imagination with lofty crests and
other features of romantic scenery. But how disappointed was I when,
instead of all this, I saw it stretching along in one almost unbroken
line! I soon turned my eyes from it to Mount Eghellál, which now
disclosed to us a deep chasm or crevice (the channel of powerful floods)
separating a broad cone, and apparently dividing the whole mountain-mass
into two distinct groups.
[Illustration]
At six o’clock in the evening we encamped in the shallow valley of
Eghellál at some distance from the well, and were greatly delighted at
being soon joined by Háj ʿAbdúwa, the son of Fátima (Ánnur’s eldest
sister), and the chief’s presumptive heir, a man of about fifty years of
age, and of intelligent and agreeable character. I treated him with a
cup or two of coffee well sweetened, and conversed with him awhile about
the difference between Egypt, which he had visited on his pilgrimage,
and his own country. He was well aware of the immense superiority even
of that state of society; but on the other hand he had not failed to
observe the misery connected with great density of population, and he
told me, with a certain degree of pride, that there were few people in
Aïr so miserable as a large class of the inhabitants of Cairo. Being
attacked by severe fever, he returned the next morning to his village
Táfidet, but afterwards accompanied the chief Astáfidet on his
expedition to Ágades, where I saw him again. I met him also in the
course of my travels twice in Kúkawa, whither he alone of all his tribe
used to go in order to maintain friendly relations with that court,
which was too often disturbed by the predatory habits of roving Kél-owí.
[Sidenote: Sunday, October 6th.]
Starting early, we soon reached a more open country, which to the eye
seemed to lean towards Mount Bághzen; but this was only an illusion, as
appeared clearly from the direction of the dry water-courses, which all
ran from E. to W.S.W. On our right we had now Mount Ágata, which has
given its name to the village mentioned above as lying at its foot. Here
the fertility of the soil seemed greatly increased, the herbage becoming
more fresh and abundant, while numerous talhas and abísgas adorned the
country. Near the foot of the extensive mountain-group of Bághzen, and
close to another mountain called Ajúri, there are even some very
favoured spots,—especially a valley called Chímmia, ornamented with a
fine date-grove, which produces fruit of excellent quality. As we
entered the meandering windings of a broad watercourse, we obtained an
interesting view of Mount Belásega. The plain now contracted, and, on
entering a narrow defile of the ridges, we had to cross a small pass,
from the top of which a most charming prospect met our eyes.
[Illustration]
A grand and beautifully-shaped mountain rose on our right, leaving,
between its base and the craggy heights, the offshoots of which we were
crossing, a broad valley running almost east and west, while at the
eastern foot of the mountain a narrow but richly-adorned valley wound
along through the lower rocky ground. This was Mount Abíla, or Bíla,
which is at once one of the most picturesque objects in the country of
Aïr, and seems to bear an interesting testimony to a connection with
that great family of mankind which we call the Semitic; for the name of
this mountain, or rather of the moist and “green vale” at its foot
(throughout the desert, even in its most favoured parts, it is the
valley which generally gives its name to the mountain), is probably the
same as that of the well-known spot in Syria, from which the province of
Abilene has been named.[138]
[Illustration]
A little beyond the first dry watercourse, where water was to be scooped
out a few feet under the surface of the ground, we rested for the heat
of the day; but the vegetation around was far from being so rich here as
in the valley Tíggeda, at the eastern foot of the picturesque mountain,
where, after a short march in the afternoon, we encamped for the night.
This was the finest valley I had yet seen in the country. The broad
sandy bed of the torrent, at present dry, was bordered with the most
beautiful fresh grass, forming a fine turf, shaded by the richest and
densest foliage of several kinds of mimosa, the tabórak or _Balanites_,
the tághmart, the abísga, and tunfáfia[139], while over all this mass of
verdure towered the beautiful peaks which on this side start forth from
the massive mountain, the whole tinged with the varied tints of the
setting sun. This delicious spectacle filled my heart with delight; and
having sat down a little while quietly to enjoy it, I made a sketch of
the beautiful forms of the mountain-peaks.
[Illustration]
Just before encamping we had passed a small chapel in ruins surrounded
by a cemetery. At that time I thought this valley identical with the
Tekádda (as the name is generally spelt) mentioned by Ebn Khaldún and by
Ebn Batúta[140] as an independent little Berber state between Gógo and
Káhir, lying on the road of the pilgrims; but I found afterwards that
there is another place which has better claims to this identification.
[Sidenote: Monday, October 7th.]
We began a most interesting day’s march, winding first along the valley
Tíggeda (which now in the cool of the morning was enlivened by numerous
flocks of wild pigeons), and then over a short tract of rocky ground
entering the still more picturesque “érazar-n-Ásada,” on the west only
lined by low rocky ridges, but bordered towards the east by the steep
massive forms of the Dógem. Here, indeed, a really tropical profusion of
vegetation covered the whole bottom of the valley, and scarcely left a
narrow low passage for the camels, the rider being obliged to stoop
every moment to avoid being swept off his seat. The principal tree here
is the dúm-tree, or _Cucifera Thebaïca_, which I had not seen since
Selúfiet; but here it was in the wild picturesque state into which it
soon relapses if left to nature. There was, besides, a great variety of
the acacia tribe all growing most luxuriantly, and interwoven with
creepers, which united the whole mass of vegetation into one thick
canopy. I regret that there was no leisure for making a sketch, as this
valley was far more picturesque even than Aúderas, of which I have been
able to give the reader a slight outline.
In this interesting valley we met two droll and jovial-looking
musicians, clad in a short and narrow blue shirt well-fastened round
their loins, and a small straw hat. Each of them carried a large drum,
or tímbali, with which they had been cheering the spirits of a wedding-
party, and were now proceeding to some other place on a similar errand.
We then met a large slave-caravan, consisting of about forty camels and
sixty slaves, winding along the narrow path, hemmed in by the rank
vegetation, and looking rather merry than sad,—the poor blacks gladdened
doubtless by the picturesque landscape, and keeping up a lively song in
their native melody. In the train of this caravan, and probably
interested in its lawless merchandise, went Snúsi and Awed el Khér, two
of the camel-drivers with whom we had come from Múrzuk, and who probably
had laid out the money gained from the English Mission in the very
article of trade which it is the desire of the English Government to
prohibit. This is a sinister result of well-meant commercial impulses,
which will probably subsist as long as the slave-trade itself exists on
the north coast of Africa.[141]
On emerging from the thick forest, we obtained the first sight of the
majestic cone of the Dógem, while a very narrow ravine or cleft in the
steep cliffs on our left led to the village Ásada. We then began to
ascend, sometimes along narrow ravines, at others on sloping rocky
ground, all covered with herbage up to the summits of the lower
mountains. In this way we reached the highest point of the pass, about
2500 feet, having the broad cone of the Dógem on our left, which I then
thought to be the most elevated point in Aïr, though, as I mentioned
above, the old chief Ánnur maintained that the Tímge is higher. This
conspicuous mountain most probably consists of basalt; and, from what I
shall observe further on, it may be inferred that the whole group of the
Bághzen does so too.
From this pass we descended into the pebbly plain of Erárar-n-Déndemu,
thickly overgrown with small talha-trees, and showing along the path
numerous foot-prints of the lion, which is extremely common in these
highland wildernesses, which, while affording sufficient vegetation and
water for a variety of animals, are but thinly inhabited, and everywhere
offer a safe retreat. However, from what I saw of him, he is not a very
ferocious animal here.
The weather meanwhile had become sultry; and when, after having left the
plain, we were winding through narrow glens, the storm, the last of the
rainy season, broke out; and through the mismanagement of the slaves,
not only our persons, but all our things were soaked with the rain. Our
march became rather cheerless, everything being wet, and the whole
ground covered with water, which along the watercourses formed powerful
torrents. At length we entered the gloomy, rugged valley of Tághist,
covered with basaltic stones, mostly of the size of a child’s head, and
bordered by sorry-looking rocky hills.
Tághist is remarkable as the place of prayer founded by the man who
introduced Islám into Central Negroland[142], and thus gave the first
impulse to that continual struggle which, always extending further and
further, seems destined to overpower the nations at the very equator, if
Christianity does not presently step in to dispute the ground with it.
This man was the celebrated Mohammed ben ʿAbd el Kerím ben Maghíli, a
native of Búda in Tawát[143], and a contemporary and intimate friend of
the Sheikh e’ Soyúti[144], that living encyclopædia and keystone, if I
may be allowed the expression, of Mohammedan learning.
Living in the time when the great Sónghay empire began to decline from
that pitch of power which it had reached under the energetic sway of
Sónni ʿAli and Mohammed el Háj Áskia, and stung by the injustice of
Áskia Ismʿaíl, who refused to punish the murderers of his son, he turned
his eyes on the country where successful resistance had first been made
against the all-absorbing power of the Asáki, and which, fresh and
youthful as it was, promised a new splendour, if enlightened by the
influence of a purer religion. Instigated by such motives, partly merely
personal, partly of a more elevated character, Mohammed ben ʿAbd el
Kerím turned his steps towards Kátsena, where we shall find him again;
but on his way thither he founded in this spot a place of prayer, to
remain a monument to the traveller of the path which the religion of the
One God took from the far east to the country of the blacks.
The “msíd,” or “mesálla,” at present is only marked by stones laid out
in a regular way, and inclosing a space from sixty to seventy feet long
and fifteen broad, with a small mehhráb, which is adorned (accidentally
or intentionally, I cannot say) by a young talha-tree. This is the
venerated and far-famed “Makám e’ Sheikh ben ʿAbd el Kerím,” where the
traveller coming from the north never omits to say his prayers; others
call it Msíd Sídi Baghdádi, the name Baghdádi being often given by the
blacks to the Sheikh, who had long resided in the east.
At length we descended from the rugged ground of Tághist into the
commencement of the celebrated Valley of Aúderas, the fame of which
penetrated to Europe many years ago. Here we encamped, wet as we were,
on the slope of the rocky ground, in order to guard against the humidity
of the valley. Opposite to us, towards the south, on the top of a hill,
lay the little village Aërwen wan Tídrak. Another village, called
Ífarghén, is situated higher up the valley on the road from Aúderas to
Damerghú. On our return I saw in this valley a barbarous mode of
tillage, three slaves being yoked to a sort of plough, and driven like
oxen by their master. This is probably the most southern place in
Central Africa where the plough is used; for all over Sudán the hoe or
fertaña is the only instrument used for preparing the ground.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, October 8th.]
While the weather was clear and fine, the valley, bordered on both sides
by steep precipices, and adorned with a rich grove of dúm-trees, and
bush and herbage in great variety, displayed its mingled beauties,
chiefly about the well, where, on our return-journey, I made the
accompanying sketch. This valley, as well as those succeeding it, is
able to produce not only millet, but even wheat, wine, and dates, with
almost every species of vegetable; and there are said to be fifty garden
fields (gónaki) near the village of Ífarghén.
But too soon we left this charming strip of cultivation, and ascended
the rocky ground on our right, above which again rose several detached
hills, one of which had so interesting and well-marked a shape that I
sketched its outlines. The road which we followed is not the common one.
The latter, after crossing very rugged ground for about fifteen miles,
keeps along the fine deep valley Télwa for about ten miles, and then
ascending for about an hour, reaches Ágades in three hours more. This
latter road passes by Tímelén, where at times a considerable market is
said to be held.
[Illustration]
Having descended again, we found the ground in the plain covered with a
thin crust of natron, and further on met people busy in collecting it;
but it is not of very good quality, nor at all comparable to that of
Múnio or to that of the shores of Lake Tsád. There are several places on
the border between the desert and the fertile districts of Negroland,
which produce this mineral, which forms a most important article of
commerce in middle Sudán. Another well-known natron-district is in
Zabérma; but in Western Sudán natron is almost unknown, and it is only
very rarely that a small sample of it can be got in Timbúktu. Many of
the Kél-owí have learnt (most probably from the Tedá or Tébu) the
disgusting custom of chewing tobacco intermixed with natron, while only
very few of them smoke.
The monotony of the country ceased when we entered the valley Búdde,
which, running in the direction of our path from S.S.W. to N.N.E., is
adorned with a continuous strip of dúm-trees, besides abísga and talha;
but the latter were of rather poor growth in the northern part of the
valley. Having crossed at noon the broad sandy watercourse, which winds
through the rich carpet of vegetation, and where there happened to be a
tolerably large pond of water, we encamped in the midst of the thicket.
Here the mimosas attained such an exuberance as I had scarcely observed
even in the valley Ásada, and being closely interwoven with “gráffeni”
or climbing plants, they formed an almost impenetrable thicket. From the
midst of this thorny mass of vegetation a beautiful ripe fruit, about an
inch and a half long, of the size of a date, and of dark-red colour,
awakened the desire of the traveller; but having eaten a few, I found
them, though sweet, rather mawkish.
Here too I first became acquainted with the troublesome nature of the
“karéngia,” or _Pennisetum distichum_, which, together with the ant, is
to the traveller in Central Africa his greatest and most constant
inconvenience. It was just ripe; and the little burr-like seeds attached
themselves to every part of my dress. It is quite necessary to be always
provided with small pincers, in order to draw out from the fingers the
little stings, which, if left in the skin, will cause sores. None even
of the wild roving natives is ever without such an instrument. But it is
not a useless plant; for, besides being the most nourishing food for
cattle, it furnishes even man with a rather slight, but by no means
tasteless food. Many of the Tawárek, from Bórnu as far as Timbúktu,
subsist more or less upon the seeds of the _Pennisetum distichum_, which
they call “úzak.” The drink made of it is certainly not bad, resembling
in coolness the fúra or ghussub-water.
From the circumstance that our Kél-owí were here cutting grass for the
camels, I concluded that the next part of our journey would lead through
an entirely sterile tract; but though the herbage was here exuberant, it
was not at all wanting further on. Having left the valley awhile to our
right, we soon re-entered it, and crossed several beautiful branches of
it very rich in vegetation. We then encamped on an open place beyond the
southernmost branch, close to a cemetery of the Imghád who inhabit a
small village to the east called Tawár Nwaijdúd, and further on some
other villages, called Téndau, Tin-tabórak, and Emélloli.
While, with the rest of our companions, we tried to make ourselves
comfortable on the hard ground and under the open canopy of heaven,
Hámma and Mohammed took up their quarters with the Imghád, and,
according to their own statement on their return the following morning,
were very hospitably treated, both by the male and female part of the
inhabitants. As for the Imghád who live in these fertile valleys round
Ágades, they are divided into numerous sections, of which I learnt the
following names:—the Ehér-heren, the Kél-chísem, the Taranaiji, the
Edárreban, the Yowúswosan, the Efeléngeras, the Éheten[145], the
Tariwáza, the Ihíngemángh, the Egemmén, the Edellén, the Kél-tédele, and
the Ikóhanén.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, October 9th.]
Our route led us over stony ground till we reached another favoured
valley, called Tefárrakad, where, owing to the watercourse being divided
into several branches, vegetation is spread over a larger space. Here,
while our Kél-owí hung a little behind, two Imghád, mounted on camels,
attached themselves to us and became rather troublesome; but they looked
so famished and thin that they awakened pity rather than any other
feeling, their dress and whole attire being of the poorest description.
Further on, when we had left the valley and ascended rocky ground, we
met a small caravan of the same mixed kind as our own troop,—camels,
bullocks, asses, and men on foot; they were returning to their village
with provision of Negro millet, which they had bought in Ágades.
We had scarcely advanced three miles when we descended again into
another long, beautiful hollow in the rocky ground, the valley Bóghel,
which, besides a fine grove of dúm-trees, exhibits one very large and
remarkable specimen of the tree called baure[146] in Háusa, a large
ficus with ample fleshy leaves of beautiful green. This specimen, so far
to the north, measured not less than twenty-six feet in circumference at
the height of eight feet from the ground, and was certainly eighty feet
high, with a full, wide-spreading crown. I scarcely remember afterwards
to have seen in all Sudán a larger baure than this. Here, for the first
time, I heard the Guinea fowl (“táliat” or “tailelt” in Temashight,
“zabó” in Háusa); for I did not see it, the birds keeping to the thick
and impenetrable underwood which filled the intervals between the dúm-
trees.
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.
The occurrences of the day were of so varied a nature, opening to me a
glance into an entirely new region of life, that I had ample material
for my evening’s meditation, when I lay stretched out on my mat before
the door of my dark and close room. Nor was my bodily comfort neglected,
the sultan being so kind and attentive as to send me a very palatable
dish of “finkáso,” a sort of thick pancake made of wheat, and well
buttered, which, after the unpalatable food I had had in Tintéllust,
appeared to me the greatest luxury in the world.
[Sidenote: Saturday, October 12th.]
Having thus obtained a glance into the interior of the town, I was
anxious to get a view of the whole of it, and ascending, the following
morning, the terrace of our house, obtained my object entirely, the
whole town being spread out before my eyes, with the exception of the
eastern quarter. The town is built on a level, which is only interrupted
by small hills formed of rubbish heaped up in the midst of it by the
negligence of the people. Excepting these, the line formed by the flat-
terraced houses is interrupted only by the Mesállaje (which formed my
basis for laying down the plan of the town), besides about fifty or
fifty-five dwellings raised to two stories, and by three dúm-trees and
five or six talha-trees. Our house also had been originally provided
with an upper story, or rather with a single garret—for generally the
upper story consists of nothing else; but it had yielded to time, and
only served to furnish amusement to my foolish friend Mohammed, who
never failed, when he found me on the terrace, to endeavour to throw me
down the breach. Our old close-handed friend Ánnur did not seem to care
much for the appearance of his palace in the town, and kept his wife
here on rather short allowance. By and by, as I went every day to enjoy
this panorama, I was able to make a faithful view of the western quarter
of the town as seen from hence, which will give the reader a more exact
idea of the place than any verbal description could do.
[Illustration: Drawn by J. M. Bernatz, from a Sketch by Dr. Barth.
M. & N. Hanhart, lith. et impt.
ÁGADES.
Octr. 12th. 1850.]
About noon the amanókal sent his musicians to honour me and my
companions with a performance; they were four or five in number, and
were provided with the instruments usual in Sudán, in imitation of the
Arabs. More interesting was the performance of a single “maimólo,” who
visited us after we had honourably rewarded the royal musicians, and
accompanied his play, on a three-stringed “mólo” or guitar, with an
extemporaneous song.
My companions then took me to the house of the kádhi, after having paid
a short visit to the camel-market. The kádhi, or here rather alkáli, who
lives a little south-west from the mosque, in a house entirely detached
on all sides, was sitting with the mufti in the vestibule of his
dwelling, where sentence is pronounced, and after a few compliments,
proceeded to hear the case of my companions, who had a lawsuit against a
native of the town, named Wá-n-seres, and evidently of Berber origin.
Evidence was adduced to the effect that he had sold a she-camel which
had been stolen from the Kél-owí, while he (the defendant) on his part
proved that he had bought it from a man who swore that it was not a
stolen camel. The pleas of both parties having been heard, the judge
decided in favour of Wá-n-seres. The whole transaction was carried on in
Temáshight, or rather in Uraghíye. Then came another party, and, while
their case was being heard, we went out and sat down in front of the
house, under the shade of a sort of verandah consisting of mats
supported by long stakes, after which we took leave of the kádhi, who
did not seem to relish my presence, and afterwards showed no very
friendly feelings towards me.
While my lazy companions wanted to go home, I fortunately persuaded
Mohammed, after much reluctance, to accompany me through the southern
part of the town, where, lonely and deserted as it seemed to be, it was
not prudent for me to go alone, as I might have easily got into some
difficulty. My servant Amánkay was still quite lame with the guineaworm;
and Mohammed the Tunisian shushán had reached such a pitch of insolence
when he saw me alone among a fanatical population, that I had given him
up entirely.
First, leaving the fáda to our right, we went out through the “kófa-n-
Alkáli;” for here the walls, which have been swept away entirely on the
east side of the town, have still preserved some degree of elevation,
though in many places one may easily climb over them. On issuing from
the gate I was struck with the desolate character of the country on this
side of the town, though it was enlivened by women and slaves going to
fetch water from the principal well (which is distant about half a mile
from the gate), all the water inside the town being of bad quality for
drinking. At some distance from the gate were the ruins of an extensive
suburb called Ben Gottára, half covered with sand, and presenting a very
sorry spectacle. It was my design to go round the southern part of the
town; but my companion either was, or pretended to be, too much afraid
of the Kél-geres, whose encampment lay at no great distance from the
walls. So we re-entered it, and followed the northern border of its
deserted southern quarter, where only a few houses are still inhabited.
Here I found three considerable pools of stagnant water, which had
collected in deep hollows from whence, probably, the materials for
building had been taken, though their form was a tolerably-regular oval.
They have each a separate name, the westernmost being called from the
Masráta, who have given their name to the whole western quarter as well
as to a small gate still in existence; the next southwards from the
kófa-n-Alkáli is called (in Emgedesíye) “Masráta-hogú-me,” for the three
languages—the Temáshight or Tarkíye, the Góber or Háusa language, and
the Songhay- or Sonrhay-kini—are very curiously mixed together in the
topography of this town, the natural consequence of the mixture of these
three different national elements. This mixture of languages was well
calculated to make the office of interpreter in this place very
important, and the class of such men a very numerous one.
In the Masráta pool, which is the largest of the three, two horses were
swimming, while women were busy washing clothes. The water has a strong
taste of salt, which is also the case with two of the three wells still
in use within the town. Keeping from the easternmost pool (which is
called, like the whole quarter around, Terjemáne, from the interpreters
whose dwellings were chiefly hereabout) a little more to the south-east,
I was greatly pleased at finding among the ruins in the south-eastern
quarter, between the quarters Akáfan árina and Imurdán, some very well-
built and neatly-polished houses, the walls of which were of so
excellent workmanship, that even after having been deprived of their
roofs, for many years perhaps, they had sustained scarcely any injury.
One of them was furnished with ornamented niches, and by the remains of
pipes, and the whole arrangement, bore evident traces of warm baths.
Music and song diverted us in the evening, while we rested on our mats
in the different corners of our courtyard.
[Sidenote: Sunday, October 13th.]
My Kél-owí companions regaled me with a string of dates from Fáshi, the
westernmost oasis of the Tébu or, as the Tawárek call them, Berauni. But
instead of indulging myself in this luxury, I laid it carefully aside as
a treat for my visitors, to whom I had (so small were my means at
present) neither coffee nor sugar to offer. I then accompanied my
friends once more to the Alkáli; but the litigation which was going on
being tedious, I left them, and returned quite alone through the town,
sitting down a moment with the Tawatíye, who generally met at the house
of the Emgédesi Ídder, a sort of Tawáti agent, and an intelligent man.
When I returned to our house I found there a very interesting young man
of the tribe of the Íghdalén, with a round face, very regular and
agreeable features, fine lively black eyes, and an olive complexion only
a few shades darker than that of an Italian peasant. His hair was black,
and about four inches long, standing upright, but cut away all round the
ears, which gave it a still more bristling appearance. I hoped to see
him again, but lost sight of him entirely. The Arabs call these people
Arab-Tawárek, indicating that they are a mixed race between the Arab and
Berber nation, and their complexion agrees well with this designation;
but it is remarkable that they speak a Sónghay dialect. They possess
scarcely anything except camels, and are regarded as a kind of
Merábetín.
I afterwards went to call upon our old friend Ánnur Karamí from Aghwau,
who had come to Ágades a day or two before us, and had accompanied me
also on my visit to the sultan. He lived, together with my amiable young
friend the Tinýlkum Slimán, in the upper story, or soro, of a house,
and, when I called, was very busy selling fine Egyptian sheep-leather
called kurna (which is in great request here, particularly that of a
green colour) to a number of lively females, who are the chief artisans
in leatherwork. Some of them were of tolerably good appearance, with
light complexion and regular Arab features. When the women were gone,
Ánnur treated me with fura or ghussub-water; and young Slimán, who felt
some little remorse for not having been able to withstand the charms of
the Emgédesíye coquettes, told me that he was about to marry a Ma-
Ásbenchi[149] girl, and that the wedding would be celebrated in a few
days.
As to the fura, people who eat or rather drink it, together, squat down
round the bowl, where a large spoon, the “lúdde,” sometimes very neatly
worked, goes round, everybody taking a spoonful and passing the spoon to
his neighbour. Subjoined is a drawing of this drinking-spoon as well as
of the common spoon, both of ordinary workmanship.
[Illustration]
The houses in Ágades do not possess all the convenience which one would
expect to find in houses in the North of Europe; but here, as in many
Italian towns, the principle of the “da per tutto,” which astonished
Göthe so much at Rivoli on the Lago di Garda, is in full force, being
greatly assisted by the many ruined houses which are to be found in
every quarter of the town. But the free nomadic inhabitant of the
wilderness does not like this custom, and rather chooses to retreat into
the open spots outside the town. The insecurity of the country and the
feuds generally raging oblige them still to congregate, even on such
occasions. When they reach some conspicuous tree, the spears are all
stuck into the ground, and the party separates behind the bushes; after
which they again meet together under the tree, and return in solemn
procession into the town.
By making such little excursions, I became acquainted with the shallow
depressions which surround Ágades and which are not without importance
for the general relations of the town, while they afford fodder for any
caravan visiting the market, and also supply the inhabitants with very
good water. The name of the depression to the N. is Tagúrast; that to
the S.W., Mérmeru; towards the S.E., Amelúli, with a few kitchen-
gardens; and another a little further on, S.S.E., Tésak-n-tálle, while
at a greater distance, to the W. is Tára-bére[150] (meaning “the wide
area” or plain, “babá-n-sárari”). Unfortunately, the dread my companions
had of the Kél-gerés did not allow me to visit the valleys at a greater
distance, the principal of which is that called el Hakhsás, inhabited by
Imghád, and famous for its vegetable productions, with which the whole
town is supplied.
Mohammed the Foolish succeeded in the evening in getting me into some
trouble, which gave him great delight; for seeing that I took more than
common interest in a national dance accompanied with a song, which was
going on at some distance E.N.E. from our house, he assured me that
Hamma was there, and had told him that I might go and join in their
amusement. Unfortunately, I was too easily induced; and hanging only a
cutlass over my shoulder, I went thither unaccompanied, sure of finding
my protector in the merry crowd. It was about ten o’clock at night, the
moon shining very brightly on the scene. Having first viewed it from
some distance, I approached very near, in order to observe the motions
of the dancers. Four young men, placed opposite to each other in pairs,
were dancing with warlike motions, and, stamping the ground violently
with the left foot, turned round in a circle, the motions being
accompanied by the energetic clapping of hands of a numerous ring of
spectators. It was a very interesting sight, and I should have liked to
stay longer; but finding that Hamma was not present, and that all the
people were young, and many of them buzawe, I followed the advice of
ʿAbdu, one of Ánnur’s slaves, who was among the crowd, to withdraw as
soon as possible. I had, however, retraced my steps but a short way,
when, with the warcry of Islam, and drawing their swords, all the young
men rushed after me. Being, however, a short distance in advance, and
fortunately not meeting with any one in the narrow street, I reached our
house without being obliged to make use of my weapon; but my friends the
Kél-owí seeing me in trouble, had thrown the chain over the door of our
house, and, with a malicious laugh, left me outside with my pursuers, so
that I was obliged to draw my cutlass in order to keep them at bay,
though, if they had made a serious attack, I should have fared ill
enough with my short blunt European weapon against their long sharp
swords.
I was rather angry with my barbarous companions, particularly with
Mohammed; and when after a little delay they opened the door, I loaded
my pistols and threatened to shoot the first man that troubled me.
However, I soon felt convinced that the chief fault was my own; and in
order to obliterate the bad impression which this little adventure was
likely to make in the town, particularly as the great Mohammedan feast
was at hand, which of course could not but strengthen greatly the
prejudice against a Christian, I resolved to stay at home the next few
days. This I could do the more easily, as the terrace of our house
allowed me to observe all that was going on in the place.
I therefore applied myself entirely for a few days to the study of the
several routes which, with the assistance of ʿAbdalla, I had been able
to collect from different people, and which will be given in the
Appendix, and to the language of Ágades. For though I had left all my
books behind at Tintéllust, except that volume of “Prichard’s
Researches” which treats of Africa, I had convinced myself, from the
specimens which he gives of the language of Timbúktu, that the statement
of my friends from Tawát with regard to the identity of the languages of
the two places was quite correct,—only with this qualification, that
here this language had been greatly influenced by intercourse with the
Berbers, from whom sundry words were borrowed, while the Arabic seemed
to have had little influence beyond supplanting the numerals from four
upwards. I was also most agreeably surprised and gratified to find this
identity confirmed by the fact that the people of Ágades give the
Tawárek in general the name under which that tribe of them which lives
near Timbúktu and along the Niger had become known to Mungo Park in
those quarters where the language of Timbúktu is spoken. This was indeed
very satisfactory, as the native name of that powerful tribe is entirely
different; for the Surka, as they are called by Mungo Park, are the same
as the Awelímmiden, of whom I had already heard so much in Asben (the
inhabitants of which country seemed to regard them with much dread), and
with whom I was afterwards to enter into the most intimate relations.
While residing in Ágades, I was not yet aware of all the points of
information which I have been able to collect in the course of my
travels; and I was at a loss to account for the identity of language in
places so widely separated from each other by immense tracts of desert,
and by countries which seemed to have been occupied by different races.
But while endeavouring, in the further course of my journey, to discover
as far as possible the history of the nations with whom I had to deal, I
found the clue for explaining this apparently-marvellous phenomenon, and
shall lay it before my readers in the following chapter.
To the Tawáti ʿAbd-alla I was indebted for information on a variety of
interesting matters, which I found afterwards confirmed in every
respect. In a few points his statements were subject to correction, and
still more to improvement; but in no single case did I find that he had
deviated from the truth. I state this deliberately, in order to show
that care must be taken to distinguish between information collected
systematically by a native enjoying the entire confidence of his
informant, and who, from his knowledge of the language and the subject
about which he inquires, is able to control his informant’s statements,
and that which is picked up incidentally by one who scarcely knows what
he asks.
But to return to my diary, the visits paid me by the other people of
Tawát became less frequent, as I had no coffee to treat them with; but I
was rather glad of this circumstance, as my time was too short for
labouring in that wide field of new information which opened before me,
and it was necessary to confine myself at present to narrower limits. In
this respect I was extremely fortunate in having obeyed my impulse to
visit this place, which, however desolate it may appear to the traveller
who first enters it, is still the centre of a large circle of commercial
intercourse, while Tintéllust is nothing but a small village, important
merely from the character of the chief who resides in it, and where even
those people who know a little about the country are afraid to
communicate that very little. I would advise any traveller, who should
hereafter visit this country, to make a long stay in this place, if he
can manage to do so in comfort; for I am sure that there still remains
to be collected in Ágades a store of the most valuable and interesting
information.
In the afternoon of the 15th of October (the eve of the great holiday),
ten chiefs of the Kél-gerés, on horseback, entered the town; and towards
evening news was brought that Astáfidet, the chief of the Kél-owí
residing in Ásodi, was not far off, and would make his solemn entry
early in the morning. My companions therefore were extremely busy in
getting ready and cleaning their holiday dress, or “yadó;” and Hamma
could not procure tassels enough to adorn his high red cap, in order to
give to his short figure a little more height. Poor fellow! he was
really a good man, and one of the best of the Kél-owí; and the news of
his being killed, in the sanguinary battle which was fought between his
tribe and the Kél-geres in 1854, grieved me not a little. In the evening
there was singing and dancing (“wargi” and “wása”) all over the town,
and all the people were merry except the followers of Mákita or Ímkiten,
“the Pretender;” and the sultan ʿAbd el Káder was obliged to imprison
three chiefs of the Itísan, who had come to urge Mákita’s claims.
It was on this occasion that I learnt that the mighty king of Ágades had
not only a common prison, “gida-n-damré,” wherein he might confine the
most haughty chiefs, but that he even exercised over them the power of
life and death, and that he dispensed the favours of a terrible dungeon
bristling with swords and spears standing upright, upon which he was
authorized to throw any distinguished malefactor. This latter statement,
of the truth of which I had some doubt, was afterwards confirmed to me
by the old chief Ánnur. In any case, however, such a cruel punishment
cannot but be extremely rare.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, October 16th.]
The 10th of Dhú el kadhi, 1266, was the first day of the great festival
ʿAid el kebír, or Salla-léja (the feast of the sacrifice of the sheep),
which in these regions is the greatest holiday of the Mohammedans, and
was in this instance to have a peculiar importance and solemnity for
Ágades, as the installation of ʿAbd el Káder, who had not yet publicly
assumed the government, was to take place the same day. Early in the
morning, before daylight, Hámma and his companions left the house and
mounted their camels, in order to pay their compliments to Astáfidet,
and join him in his procession; and about sunrise the young chief
entered and went directly to the “fáda,” at the head of from two hundred
to three hundred Mehára, having left the greater number of his troop,
which was said to amount to about two thousand men, outside the town.
Then, without much ceremony or delay, the installation or “sarauta” of
the new sultan took place. The ceremonial was gone through inside the
fáda; but this was the procedure. First of all, ʿAbd el Káder was
conducted from his private apartments to the public hall. Then the
chiefs of the Itísan and Kél-geres, who went in front, begged him to sit
down upon the “gadó,” a sort of couch or divan made of the leaves of the
palm-tree, or of the branches of other trees, similar to the angaríb
used in Egypt and the lands of the Upper Nile, and covered with mats and
a carpet. Upon this the new sultan sat down, resting his feet on the
ground, not being allowed to put them upon the gadó, and recline in the
Oriental style, until the Kél-owí desired him to do so. Such is the
ceremony, symbolical of the combined participation of these different
tribes in the investiture of their sultan.
This ceremony being concluded, the whole holiday-procession left the
palace on its way to a chapel of a merábet called Sídi Hammáda, in Tára-
bére, outside the town, where, according to an old custom, the prince
was to say his prayers. This is a rule prevailing over the whole of
Mohammedan Africa, and one which I myself witnessed in some of the most
important of its capitals—in Ágades, in Kúkawa, in Más-eña, in Sókoto,
and in Timbúktu; everywhere the principle is the same.
Not deeming it prudent on such an occasion to mix with the people, I
witnessed the whole procession from the terrace of our house, though I
should have liked to have had a nearer view. The procession having taken
its course through the most important quarter of the town, and through
the market-places, turned round from the “káswa-n-delélti” to the oldest
quarter of the town, and then returned westward, till at last it reached
the above-mentioned chapel or tomb of Sídi Hammáda, where there is a
small cemetery. The prayers being finished, the procession returned by
the southern part of the town; and about ten o’clock the different
parties which had composed the _cortége_ separated.
In going as well as in returning, the order of the procession was as
follows. In front of all, accompanied by the musicians, rode the sultan
on a very handsome horse of Tawáti breed[151], wearing, over his fine
Sudán robe of coloured cotton and silk, the blue bernus I had presented
to him, and wearing on his side a handsome cimetar with gold handle.
Next to him rode the two sáraki-n-turáwa,—Bóro, the ex-serki on his
left, and Ashu, who held the office at the time, on his right,—followed
by the “fádawa-n-serki,” after whom came the chiefs of the Itísan and
Kél-gerés, all on horseback, in full dress and armour, with their
swords, daggers, long spears, and immense shields.
Then came the longer train of the Kél-owí, mostly on mehára, or swift
camels, with Sultan Astáfidet at their head; and last of all followed
the people of the town, a few on horseback, but most of them on foot,
and armed with swords and spears, and several with bows and arrows. The
people were all dressed in their greatest finery; and it would have
formed a good subject for an artist. It recalled the martial processions
of the middle ages—the more so as the high caps of the Tawárek[152],
surrounded by a profusion of tassels on every side, together with the
black “tesílgemist” or lithám, which covers the whole face, leaving
nothing but the eyes visible, and the shawls wound over this and round
the cap combine to imitate the shape of the helmet, while the black and
coloured tobes (over which on such occasions the principal people wear a
red bernus thrown across their shoulders) represent very well the
heavier dress of the knights of yore. I will only add, that the fact of
the sultan wearing on so important and solemn an occasion a robe which
had been presented to him by a stranger and a Christian, had a powerful
influence on the tribes collected here, and spread a beneficial report
far westward over the desert.
Shortly after the procession was over, the friendly Haj ʿAbdúwa, who,
after he had parted from us in Eghellál, had attached himself to the
troop of Astáfidet, came to pay me a visit. He was now tolerably free
from fever, but begged for some Epsom salts, besides a little gunpowder.
He informed me that there was much sickness in the town, that from two
to three people died daily, and that even Astáfidet was suffering from
the prevalent disease. This was the smallpox, a very fatal disease in
Central Africa, against which, however, several of the native pagan
tribes secure themselves by inoculation, a precaution from which
Mohammedans are withheld by religious prejudice. I then received a visit
from the sons of Bóro in their official character as “fádawa-n-serki.”
They wished to inform themselves, apparently, with reference to my
adventure the other night, whether the townspeople behaved well towards
me; and I was prudent enough to tell them that I had nothing to complain
of, my alarm having been the consequence of my own imprudence. In fact
the people behaved remarkably well, considering that I was the first
Christian that ever visited the town; and the little explosions of
fanaticism into which the women and children sometimes broke out, when
they saw me on our terrace, rather amused me. During the first days of
my residence in Ágades, they most probably took me for a pagan or a
polytheist, and cried after me the confessional words of Islam, laying
all the stress upon the word Allah, “the One God;” but after a few days,
when they had learnt that I likewise worshipped the Deity, they began to
emphasize the name of their Prophet.
There was held about sunset a grave and well-attended divan of all the
chiefs, to consult with respect to a “yáki” or “égehen,” a ghazzia to be
undertaken against the Mehárebín or freebooters of the Awelímmiden.
While we were still in Tintéllust, the rumour had spread of an
expedition undertaken by the latter tribe against Aïr, and the people
were all greatly excited. For the poor Kél-owí, who have degenerated
from their original vigour and warlike spirit by their intermixture with
the black population, and by their peaceable pursuits, are not less
afraid of the Awelímmiden than they are of the Kél-gerés; and old Ánnur
himself used to give me a dreadful description of that tribe, at which I
afterwards often laughed heartily with the very people whom he intended
to depict to me as monsters. By way of consoling us for the losses we
had sustained, and the ill-treatment we had experienced, from the people
of Aïr, he told us that among the Awelímmiden we should have been
exposed to far greater hardships, as they would not have hesitated to
cut the tent over our heads into pieces, in order to make shirts of it.
The old chief’s serious speeches had afterwards the more comical effect
upon me, as the tent alluded to, a common English marquee, mended as it
was with cotton strips of all the various fashions of Negroland,
constantly formed a subject of the most lively scientific dispute among
those barbarians, who, not having seen linen before, were at a loss to
make out of what stuff it was originally made. But, unluckily, I had not
among the Kél-owí such a steadfast protector and mediator and so
sensible a friend as I had when, three years later, I went among the
Awelímmiden, who would certainly have treated me in another way if I had
fallen into their hands unprotected.
The old and lurking hostility amongst the Kél-owí and Kél-gerés, which
was at this very moment threatening an outbreak, had been smoothed down
by the influential and intelligent chief Sídi Ghalli el Háj Ánnur
(properly E’ Núr), one of the first men in Ágades; and those tribes had
sworn to forget their private animosities, in order to defend themselves
against and revenge themselves upon their common enemy the Awelímmiden.
Hámma was very anxious to get from me a good supply of powder for Sídi
Ghalli, who was to be the leader of the expedition; but I had scarcely
any with me.
While I was reclining in the evening rather mournfully upon my mat, not
having been out of the house these last few days, the old friendly
blacksmith came up, and invited me to a promenade; and with the greatest
pleasure I acceded to the proposal. We left the town by the eastern
side, the moon shining brightly, and throwing her magic light over the
ruins of this once-wealthy abode of commerce. Turning then a little
south, we wandered over the pebbly plain till the voices heard from the
encampment of the Kél-geres frightened my companion, and we turned more
northwards to the wells in Amelúli; having rested here awhile, we
returned to our quarters.
[Sidenote: Thursday, October 17th.]
Ánnur karamí, our amiable and indolent attendant, left this place for
Tintéllust with a note which I wrote to my colleagues, informing them of
my safe arrival, my gracious reception, and the general character of the
place. To-day the whole town was in agitation in consequence of one of
those characteristic events which, in a place like Ágades, serve to mark
the different periods of the year; for here a man can do nothing singly,
but all must act together. The salt-caravan of the Itísan and Kél-geres
had collected, mustering, I was told, not less than ten thousand camels,
and had encamped in Mérmeru and Tesak-n-tállem ready to start for the
salt-mines of Bilma, along a road which will be indicated further on.
However exaggerated the number of the camels might be, it was certainly
a very large caravan; and a great many of the inhabitants went out to
settle their little business with the men, and take leave of their
friends. Ghámbelu, the chief of the Itísan, very often himself
accompanies this expedition, in which also many of the Tagáma take a
part.
In the course of the day I had a rather curious conversation with a man
from Táfidet, the native place of Háj ʿAbdúwa. After exchanging
compliments with me, he asked me, abruptly, whether I always knew where
water was to be found; and when I told him that, though I could not
exactly say in every case at what depth water was to be found, yet that,
from the configuration of the ground, I should be able to tell the spot
where it was most likely to be met with, he asked whether I had seen
rock-inscriptions on the road from Ghát; and I answered him that I had,
and generally near watering-places. He then told me that I was quite
right, but that in Táfidet there were many inscriptions upon the rocks
at a distance from water. I told him that perhaps at an earlier period
water might have been found there, or that the inscriptions might have
been made by shepherds; but this he thought very improbable, and
persisted in his opinion, that these inscriptions indicated ancient
sepulchres, in which, probably, treasures were concealed. I was rather
surprised at the philosophical conclusions at which this barbarian had
arrived, and conjectured, as was really the case, that he had
accompanied Háj ʿAbdúwa on his pilgrimage and on his passage through
Egypt, and had there learned to make some archæological observations. He
affected to believe that I was able to read the inscriptions, and tell
all about the treasures; but I assured him that, while he was partially
right with regard to the inscriptions, he was quite wrong so far as
regarded the treasures, as these rock-inscriptions, so far as I was able
to decipher them, indicated only names. But I was rather sorry that I
did not myself see the inscriptions of which this man spoke, as I had
heard many reports about them, which had excited my curiosity, and I had
even sent the little Fezzáni Fáki Makhlúk expressly to copy them, who,
however, brought me back only an illegible scrawl.
[Sidenote: Friday, October 18th.]
The last day of the Salla-léja was a merry day for the lower class of
the inhabitants, but a serious one for the men of influence and
authority; and many councils were held, one of them in my room. I then
received a visit from a sister’s son of the sultan, whose name was
Alkáli, a tall, gentlemanlike man, who asked me why I did not yet leave
Ágades and return to Tintéllust. It seemed that he suspected me of
waiting till the sultan had made me a present in return for that
received by him; but I told him that, though I wished ʿAbd el Káder to
write me a letter for my sultan, which would guarantee the safety of
some future traveller belonging to our tribe, I had no further business
here, but was only waiting for Hamma, who had not yet finished his
bartering for provisions. He had seen me sketching on the terrace, and
was somewhat inquisitive about what I had been doing there; but I
succeeded in directing his attention to the wonderful powers of the
pencil, with which he became so delighted, that when I gave him one, he
begged another from me, in order that they might suffice for his
lifetime.
Interesting also was the visit of Háj Beshír, the wealthy man of Iferwán
whom I have already mentioned repeatedly, and who is an important
personage in the country of Aïr. Unfortunately, instead of using his
influence to facilitate our entrance into the country, his son had been
among the chief leaders of the expedition against us. Though not young,
he was lively and social, and asked me whether I should not like to
marry some nice Emgedesíye girl. When he was gone, I took a long walk
through the town with Hamma, who was somewhat more communicative to-day
than usual; but his intelligence was not equal to his energy and
personal courage, which had been proved in many a battle. He had been
often wounded; and having in the last skirmish received a deep cut on
his head, he had made an enormous charm, which was generally believed to
guarantee him from any further wound; and in fact, if the charm were to
receive the blow, it would not be altogether useless, for it was a thick
book. But his destiny was written.
There was a rather amusing episode in the incidents of the day. The ex-
sultan Hámed e’ Rufáy, who had left many debts behind him, sent ten
camel-loads of provisions and merchandise to be divided among his
creditors; but a few Tawárek to whom he owed something seized the whole,
so that the other poor people never obtained a farthing. To-day the
great salt-caravan of the Kél-gerés and Itísan really started.
[Sidenote: Saturday, October 19th.]
Hámma and his companions were summoned to a council which was to decide
definitively in what quarter the arm of justice, now raised in wrath,
was to strike the first blow; and it was resolved that the expedition
should first punish the Imghád, the Ikázkezan, and Fádëangh. The officer
who made the proclamation through the town was provided with a very rude
sort of drum, which was, in fact, nothing but an old barrel covered with
a skin.
[Sidenote: Sunday, October 20th.]
The most important event in the course of the day was a visit which I
received from Mohammed Bóro, our travelling companion from Múrzuk, with
his sons. It was the best proof of his noble character, that before we
separated, perhaps never to meet again, he came to speak with me, and to
explain our mutual relations fairly. He certainly could not deny that he
had been extremely angry with us; and I could not condemn him on this
account, for he had been treated ignominiously. While Mr. Gagliuffi told
him that we were persuaded that the whole success of our proceedings lay
in his hands, he had been plainly given to understand that we set very
little value on his services. Besides, he had sustained some heavy
losses on the journey, and by waiting for us had consumed the provisions
which he had got ready for the march.
Although an old man, he was first going with the expedition, after which
he intended accompanying the caravan of the Kél-gerés to Sókoto with his
whole family; for Sókoto is his real home. The salt-caravan and the
company of this man offered a splendid opportunity for reaching that
place in safety and by the most direct road; but our means did not allow
of such a journey, and after all it was better, at least for myself,
that it was not undertaken, since, as matters went, it was reserved for
me, before I traced my steps towards the western regions, to discover
the upper navigable course of the eastern branch of the so-called Niger,
and make sundry other important discoveries. Nevertheless Bóro expressed
his hope of seeing me again in Sókoto; and his wish might easily have
been accomplished. He certainly must have been, when in the vigour of
life, a man—in the full sense of the word, and well deserved the praise
of the Emgedesíye, who have a popular song beginning with the words
“Ágades has no men but Bóro and Dahámmi.” I now also became aware why he
had many enemies in Múrzuk, who unfortunately succeeded in making
Gagliuffi believe that he had no authority whatever in his own country;
for as serki-n-turáwa he had to levy the tax of ten mithkáls on every
camel-load of merchandise, and this he is said to have done with some
degree of severity. After a long conversation on the steps of the
terrace, we parted, the best possible friends.
Not so pleasant to me, though not without interest, was the visit of
another great man—Belróji, the támberi or war-chieftain of the Ighólar
Im-esághlar. He was still in his prime, but my Kél-owí (who were always
wrangling like children) got up a desperate fight with him in my very
room, which was soon filled with clouds of dust; and the young Slimán
entering during the row, and joining in it, it became really frightful.
The Kél-owí were just like children; when they went out they never
failed to put on all their finery, which they threw off as soon as they
came within doors, resuming their old dirty clothes.
It was my custom in the afternoon, when the sun had set behind the
opposite buildings, to walk up and down in front of our house; and while
so doing to-day I had a long conversation with two chiefs of the Itísan
on horseback, who came to see me, and avowed their sincere friendship
and regard. They were fine, tall men, but rather slim, with a noble
expression of countenance, and of light colour. Their dress was simple,
but handsome, and arranged with great care. All the Tawárek, from Ghát
as far as Háusa, and from Alákkos to Timbúktu, are passionately fond of
the tobes and trowsers called “tailelt” (the Guinea-fowl), or “fílfil”
(the pepper), on account of their speckled colour. They are made of silk
and cotton interwoven[153], and look very neat. The lowest part of the
trowsers, which forms a narrow band about two inches broad, closing
rather tightly, is embroidered in different colours. None of the Tawárek
of pure blood would, I think, degrade themselves by wearing on their
head the red cap.
[Sidenote: Monday, October 21st.]
Early in the morning I went with Hamma to take leave of the sultan, who
had been too busy for some days to favour me with an audience; and I
urged my friend to speak of the treaty, though I was myself fully aware
of the great difficulty which so complicated a paper, written in a form
entirely unknown to the natives, and which must naturally be expected to
awaken their suspicion, would create, and of the great improbability of
its being signed while the sultan was pressed with a variety of
business. On the way to the fáda we met Áshu, the present serki-n-
turáwa, a large-sized man, clad in an entirely-white dress, which may
not improbably be a sign of his authority over the white men
(Turáwa[154]). He is said to be a very wealthy man. He replied to my
compliments with much kindness, and entered into conversation with me
about the difference of our country and theirs, and ordered one of his
companions to take me to a small garden which he had planted near his
house in the midst of the town, in order to see what plants we had in
common with them. Of course there was nothing like our plants; and my
cicerone conceived rather a poor idea of our country when he heard that
all the things which they had, we had not—neither senna, nor bamia, nor
indigo, nor cotton, nor Guinea corn, nor, in short, the most beautiful
of all trees of the creation, as he thought—the talha, or _Mimosa
ferruginea_; and he seemed rather incredulous when told that we had much
finer plants than they.
We then went to the fáda. The sultan seemed quite ready for starting. He
was sitting in the courtyard of his palace, surrounded by a multitude of
people and camels, while the loud murmuring noise of a number of
schoolboys who were learning the Kurán proceeded from the opposite
corner, and prevented my hearing the conversation of the people. The
crowd and the open locality were, of course, not very favourable to my
last audience; and it was necessarily a cold one. Supported by Hamma, I
informed the sultan that I expected still to receive a letter from him
to the government under whose auspices I was travelling, expressive of
the pleasure and satisfaction he had felt in being honoured with a visit
from one of the mission, and that he would gladly grant protection to
any future traveller who should happen to visit his country. The sultan
promised that such a letter should be written; however, the result
proved that either he had not quite understood what I meant, or, what is
more probable, that in his precarious situation he felt himself not
justified in writing to a Christian government, especially as he had
received no letter from it.
When I had returned to my quarters, Hamma brought me three letters, in
which ʿAbd el Káder recommended my person and my luggage to the care of
the governors of Kanó, Kátsena, and Dáura, and which were written in
rather incorrect Arabic, and in nearly the same terms. They were as
follows:—
“In the name of God, &c.
“From the Emír of Ahír[155], ʿAbd el Káder, son of the Sultan Mohammed
el Bákeri, to the Emír of Dáura, son of the late Emír of Dáura, Is-hhák.
The mercy of God upon the eldest companions of the Prophet, and his
blessing upon the Khalífa; ‘Amín.’ The most lasting blessing and the
highest well-being to you without end. I send this message to you with
regard to a stranger, my guest, of the name of ʿAbd el Kerím[156], who
came to me, and is going to the Emír el Mumenín [the Sultan of Sókoto],
in order that, when he proceeds to you, you may protect him and treat
him well, so that none of the freebooters and evildoers[157] may hurt
him or his property, but that he may reach the Emír el Mumenín. Indeed
we wrote this on account of the freebooters, in order that you may
protect him against them in the most efficacious manner. Farewell.”
These letters were all sealed with the seal of the sultan.
Hamma showed me also another letter which he had received from the
sultan, and which I think interesting enough to be here inserted, as it
is a faithful image of the turbulent state of the country at that time,
and as it contains the simple expression of the sincere and just
proceedings of the new sultan. Its purport was as follows, though the
language in which it is written is so incorrect that several passages
admit of different interpretations.[158]
“In the name of God, &c.
“From the Commander, the faithful Minister of Justice[159], the Sultan
ʿAbd el Káder, son of the Sultan Mohammed el Bákeri, to the chiefs of
all the tribe of E’ Núr, and Hámed, and Sëis, and all those among you
who have large possessions, perfect peace to you.
“Your eloquence, compliments, and information are deserving of praise.
We have seen the auxiliaries sent to us by your tribe; and we have taken
energetic measures with them against the marauders, who obstruct the way
of the caravans of devout people[160], and the intercourse of those who
travel as well as those who remain at home. On this account we desire to
receive aid from you against their incursions. The people of the Kél-
fadaye, they are the marauders. We should not have prohibited their
chiefs to exercise rule over them, except for three things:—first,
because I am afraid they will betake themselves from the Aníkel [the
community of the people of Aïr] to the Awelímmiden; secondly in order
that they may not make an alliance with them against us, for they are
all marauders; and thirdly, in order that you may approve of their
paying us the tribute. Come, then, to us quickly. You know that what the
hand holds it holds only with the aid of the fingers; for without the
fingers the hand can seize nothing.
“We therefore will expect your determination, that is to say your
coming, after the departure of the salt-caravan of the Itísan, fixed
among you for the fifteenth of the month. God! God is merciful and
answereth prayer! Come therefore to us; and we will tuck up our
sleeves[161], and drive away the marauders, and fight valiantly against
them as God (be He glorified!) hath commanded.
“Lo, corruption hath multiplied on the face of the earth. May the Lord
not question us on account of the poor and needy, orphans and widows,
according to His word:—‘You are all herdsmen, and ye shall all be
questioned respecting your herds, whether ye have indeed taken good care
of them or dried them up.’
“Delay not, therefore, but hasten to our residence where we are all
assembled; for ‘zeal in the cause of religion is the duty of all;’ or
send thy messenger to us quickly with a positive answer; send thy
messenger as soon as possible. Farewell!”
The whole population was in alarm; and everybody who was able to bear
arms prepared for the expedition. About sunset the “égehen” left the
town, numbering about four hundred men, partly on camels, partly on
horseback, besides the people on foot. Bóro as well as Áshu accompanied
the sultan, who this time was himself mounted on a camel. They went to
take their encampment near that of Astáfidet, in Tagúrast, ʿAbd el Káder
pitching a tent of grey colour, and in size like that of a Turkish aghá,
in the midst of the Kél-geres, the Kél-ferwán, and the Emgedesíye, while
Astáfidet, who had no tent, was surrounded by the Kél-owí. The sultan
was kind and attentive enough not to forget me even now; and having
heard that I had not yet departed, Hamma not having finished his
business in the town, he sent me some wheat, a large botta with butter
and vegetables (chiefly melons and cucumbers), and the promise of
another sheep.
In the evening the drummer again went his rounds through the town,
proclaiming the strict order of the sultan that everybody should lay in
a large supply of provisions. Although the town in general had become
very silent when deserted by so many people, our house was kept in
constant bustle; and in the course of the night three mehára came from
the camp, with people who could get no supper there and sought it with
us. Bóro sent a messenger to me early the next morning, urgently begging
for a little powder, as the “Mehárebín” of the Imghád had sent off their
camels and other property, and were determined to resist the army of the
sultan. However, I could send him but very little. My amusing friend
Mohammed spent the whole day with us, when he went to join the ghazzia.
I afterwards learnt that he obtained four head of cattle as his share.
There must be considerable herds of cattle in the more favoured valleys
of Asben; for the expedition had nothing else to live upon, as Mohammed
afterwards informed me, and slaughtered an immense quantity of them.
Altogether the expedition was successful; and the Fádëang and many
tribes of the Imghád lost almost all their property. Even the
influential Háj Beshír was punished, on account of his son’s having
taken part in the expedition against us. I received also the
satisfactory information that ʿAbd el Káder had taken nine camels from
the man who retained my méheri; but I gained nothing thereby, neither my
own camel being returned nor another given me in its stead. The case was
the same with all our things; but nevertheless the proceeding had a good
effect, seeing that people were punished expressly for having robbed
Christians, and thus the principle was established that it was not less
illegal to rob Christians than it was to rob Mohammedans, both creeds
being placed, as far as regards the obligations of peace and honesty, on
equally favourable terms.
I spent the whole of Tuesday in my house, principally in taking down
information which I received from the intelligent Ghadámsi merchant
Mohammed, who, having left his native town from fear of the Turks, had
resided six years in Ágades, and was a well-informed man.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, October 23rd.]
My old friend the blacksmith Hámmeda, and the tall Elíyas, went off this
morning with several camels laden with provision, while Hamma still
staid behind to finish the purchases; for on account of the expedition,
and the insecure state of the road to Damerghú, it had been difficult to
procure provisions in sufficient quantity. Our house therefore became
almost as silent and desolate as the rest of the town; but I found a
great advantage in remaining a few days longer, for my chivalrous friend
and protector, who, as long as the sultan and the great men were
present, had been very reserved and cautious, had now no further scruple
about taking me everywhere, and showing me the town “within and
without.”
[Illustration]
We first visited the house of Ídder, a broker, who lived at a short
distance to the south from our house, and had also lodged Háj ʿAbdúwa
during his stay here. It was a large spacious dwelling, well arranged
with a view to comfort and privacy, according to the conceptions and
customs of the inhabitants, while our house (being a mere temporary
residence for Ánnur’s people occasionally visiting the town) was a
dirty, comfortless abode. We entered first a vestibule, about twenty-
five feet long and nine broad, having on each side a separate space
marked off by that low kind of balustrade mentioned in my description of
the sultan’s house. This vestibule or ante-room was followed by a second
room of larger size and irregular arrangement; opposite the entrance it
opened into another apartment which, with two doors, led into a spacious
inner courtyard, which was very irregularly circumscribed by several
rooms projecting into it, while to the left it was occupied by an
enormous bedstead (1). These bedsteads are a most characteristic article
of furniture in all the dwellings of the Sónghay. In Ágades they are
generally very solidly built of thick boards, and furnished with a
strong canopy resting upon four posts, covered with mats on the top and
on three sides, the remaining side being shut in with boards. Such a
canopied bed looks like a little house by itself. On the wall of the
first chamber, which on the right projected into the courtyard, several
lines of large pots had been arranged, one above the other (2), forming
so many warm nests for a number of turtle-doves which were playing all
about the courtyard, while on the left, in the half-decayed walls of two
other rooms (3), about a dozen goats were fastened each to a separate
pole. The background of the courtyard contained several rooms; and in
front of it a large shade (4) had been built of mats, forming a rather
pleasant and cool resting-place. Numbers of children were gambolling
about, and gave to the whole a very cheerful appearance. There is
something very peculiar in these houses, which are constructed evidently
with a view to comfort and quiet enjoyment.
We then went to visit a female friend of Hamma, who lived in the south
quarter of the town, in a house which likewise bespoke much comfort; but
here, on account of the number of inmates, the arrangement was
different, the second vestibule being furnished on each side with a
large bedstead instead of mats, though here also there was in the
courtyard an immense bedstead. The courtyard was comparatively small,
and a long corridor on the left of it led to an inner courtyard or
“tsakangída,” which I was not allowed to see. The mistress of the house
was still a very comely person, although she had borne several children.
She had a fine figure, though rather under the middle size, and a fair
complexion. I may here remark that many of the women of Ágades are not a
shade darker than Arab women in general. She wore a great quantity of
silver ornaments, and was well dressed in a gown of coloured cotton and
silk. Hamma was very intimate with her, and introduced me to her as his
friend and protégé, whom she ought to value as highly as himself. She
was married; but her husband was residing in Kátsena, and she did not
seem to await his return in the Penelopean style. The house had as many
as twenty inmates, there being no less than six children, I think, under
five years of age, and among them a very handsome little girl, the
mother’s favourite; besides, there were six or seven full-grown
slaves.[162] The children were all naked, but wore ornaments of beads
and silver.
After we had taken leave of this Emgedesíye lady, we followed the street
towards the south, where there were some very good houses, although the
quarter in general was in ruins; and here I saw the very best and most
comfortable-looking dwelling in the town. All the pinnacles were
ornamented with ostrich-eggs. One will often find in an eastern town,
after the first impression of its desolate appearance is gone by, many
proofs that the period of its utter prostration is not yet come, but
that even in the midst of the ruins there is still a good deal of ease
and comfort. Among the ruins of the southern quarter are to be seen the
pinnacled walls of a building of immense circumference and considerable
elevation; but unfortunately I could not learn from Hámma for what
purpose it had been used: however, it was certainly a public building,
and probably a large khán rather than the residence of the chief.[163]
With its high, towering walls, it still forms a sort of outwork on the
south side of the town, where in general the wall is entirely destroyed,
and the way is everywhere open. Hámma had a great prejudice against this
desolate quarter. Even the more intelligent Mohammedans are often afraid
to enter former dwelling-places of men, believing them to be haunted by
spirits; but he took me to some inhabited houses, which were all built
on the same principle as that described, but varying greatly in depth,
and in the size of the courtyard; the staircases (abi-n-háwa) leading to
the upper story are in the courtyard, and are rather irregularly built
of stones and clay. In some of them young ostriches were running about.
The inhabitants of all the houses seemed to have the same cheerful
disposition; and I was glad to find scarcely a single instance of
misery. I give here the ground-plan of another house.
[Illustration]
The artisans who work in leather (an occupation left entirely to
females) seem to live in a quarter by themselves, which originally was
quite separated from the rest of the town by a sort of gate; but I did
not make a sufficient survey of this quarter to mark it distinctly in
the ground-plan of the town. We also visited some of the mat-makers.
Our maimólo of the other day, who had discovered that we had slaughtered
our sheep, paid us a visit in the evening, and for a piece of meat
entertained me with a clever performance on his instrument, accompanied
with a song. Hámma spent his evening with our friend the Emgedesíye
lady, and was kind enough to beg me to accompany him. This I declined,
but gave him a small present to take to her.
I had a fair sample of the state of morals in Ágades the following day,
when five or six girls and women came to pay me a visit in our house,
and with much simplicity invited me to make merry with them, there being
now, as they said, no longer reason for reserve, “as the sultan was
gone.” It was indeed rather amusing to see what conclusions they drew
from the motto, “serki yátafi.” Two of them were tolerably pretty and
well-formed, with fine black hair hanging down in plaits or tresses,
lively eyes, and very fair complexion. Their dress was decent, and that
of one of them even elegant, consisting of an under gown reaching from
the neck to the ankles, and an upper one drawn over the head, both of
white colour; but their demeanour was very free, and I too clearly
understood the caution requisite in a European who would pass through
these countries unharmed and respected by the natives, to allow myself
to be tempted by these wantons. It would be better for a traveller in
these regions, both for his own comfort, and for the respect felt for
him by the natives, if he could take his wife with him; for these simple
people do not understand how a man can live without a partner. The
Western Tawárek, who in general are very rigorous in their manners, and
quite unlike the Kél-owí, had nothing to object against me except my
being a bachelor. But as it is difficult to find a female companion for
such journeys, and as by marrying a native he would expose himself to
much trouble and inconvenience on the score of religion, he will do best
to maintain the greatest austerity of manners with regard to the other
sex, though he may thereby expose himself to a good deal of derision
from some of the lighter-hearted natives. The ladies, however, became so
troublesome that I thought it best to remain at home for a few days, and
was thus enabled at the same time to note down the information which I
had been able to pick up. During these occupations I was always greatly
pleased with the companionship of a diminutive species of finches which
frequent all the rooms in Ágades, and, as I may add from later
experience, in Timbúktu also; the male, with its red neck, in particular
looks extremely pretty. The poults were just about to fledge.
[Sidenote: Sunday, October 27th.]
There was one very characteristic building in town, which, though a most
conspicuous object from the terrace of our house, I had never yet
investigated with sufficient accuracy. This was the mesállaje, or high
tower rising over the roof of the mosque. The reason why this building
in particular (the most famous and remarkable one in the town) had been
hitherto observed by me only from a distance, and in passing by, must be
obvious. Difference of religious creed repelled me from it; and so long
as the town was full of strangers, some of them very fanatical, it was
dangerous for me to approach it too closely. I had often inquired
whether it would not be possible to ascend the tower without entering
the mosque; but I had always received for answer, that the entrance was
locked up. As soon, however, as the sultan was gone, and when the town
became rather quiet, I urged Hámma to do his best that I might ascend to
the top of this curious building, which I represented to him as a matter
of the utmost importance to me, since it would enable me not only to
control my route by taking a few angles of the principal elevations
round the valley Aúderas, but also to obtain a distant view over the
country towards the west and south, which it was not my good luck to
visit myself. To-day Hámma promised me that he would try what could be
done.
Having once more visited the lively house of Ídder, we took our way over
the market-places, which were now rather dull. The vultures looked out
with visible greediness and eagerness from the pinnacles of the ruined
walls around for their wonted food—their share of offal during these
days, when so many people were absent, being of course much reduced,
though some of them probably had followed their fellow-citizens on the
expedition. So few people being in the streets, the town had a more
ruined look than ever; and the large heap of rubbish accumulated on the
south side of the butchers’ market seemed to me more disgusting than
before. We kept along the principal street between Dígi and Arrafíya,
passing the deep well Shedwánka on our right, and on the other side a
school, which resounded with the shrill voices of about fifty little
boys repeating with energy and enthusiasm the verses of the Kurán, which
their master had written for them upon their little wooden tablets.
Having reached the open space in front of the mosque (“sárari-n-
mesállaje”), and there being nobody to disturb me, I could view at my
leisure this simple but curious building, which in the subsequent course
of my journey became still more interesting to me, as I saw plainly that
it was built on exactly the same principle as the tower which rises over
the sepulchre of the famed conqueror Háj Mohammed Áskiá (the “Ischia” of
Leo).
The mesállaje starts up from the platform or terrace formed by the roof
of the mosque, which is extremely low, resting apparently, as we shall
see, in its interior, upon four massive pillars. It is square, and
measures at its base about thirty feet, having a small lean-to, on its
east side, on the terrace of the mosque, where most probably there was
formerly the entrance. From this the tower rises (decreasing in width,
and with a sort of swelling or entasis in the middle of its elevation,
something like the beautiful model adopted by nature in the deléb palm,
and imitated by architects in the columns of the Ionic and Corinthian
orders) to a height of from ninety to ninety-five feet. It measures at
its summit not more than about eight feet in width. The interior is
lighted by seven openings on each side. Like most of the houses in
Ágades, it is built entirely of clay; and in order to strengthen a
building so lofty and of so soft a material, its four walls are united
by thirteen layers of boards of the dúm-tree crossing the whole tower in
its entire breadth and width, and coming out on each side from three to
four feet, while at the same time they afford the only means of getting
to the top. Its purpose is to serve as a watch-tower, or at least was so
at a former time, when the town, surrounded by a strong wall and
supplied with water, was well capable of making resistance, if warned in
due time of an approaching danger. But at present it seems rather to be
kept in repair only as a decoration of the town.
[Illustration]
The Mesállaje in its present state was only six years old at the time of
my visit (in 1850), and perhaps was not even quite finished in the
interior, as I was told that the layers of boards were originally
intended to support a staircase of clay. About fifty paces from the
south-western corner of the mosque, the ruins of an older tower are seen
still rising to a considerable height, though leaning much to one side,
more so than the celebrated tower of Pisa, and most probably in a few
years it will give way to an attack of storm and rain. This more ancient
tower seems to have stood quite detached from the mosque.
Having sufficiently surveyed the exterior of the tower, and made a
sketch of it, I accompanied my impatient companion into the interior of
the mosque, into which he felt no scruple in conducting me. The lowness
of the structure had already surprised me from without; but I was still
more astonished when I entered the interior, and saw that it consisted
of low, narrow naves, divided by pillars of immense thickness, the
reason of which it is not possible at present to understand, as they
have nothing to support but a roof of dúm-tree boards, mats, and a layer
of clay; but I think it scarcely doubtful that originally these naves
were but the vaults or cellars of a grander superstructure, designed but
not executed; and this conjecture seems to be confirmed by all that at
present remains of the mosque. The gloomy halls were buried in a
mournful silence, interrupted only by the voice of a solitary man,
seated on a dirty mat at the western wall of the tower, and reading
diligently the torn leaves of a manuscript. Seeing that it was the
kádhi, we went up to him and saluted him most respectfully; but it was
not in the most cheerful and amiable way that he received our
compliments—mine in particular—continuing to read, and scarcely raising
his eyes from the sheets before him.[164] Hámma then asked for
permission to ascend the tower, but received a plain and unmistakeable
refusal, the thing being impossible, there being no entrance to the
tower at present. It was shut up, he said, on account of the Kél-gerés,
who used to ascend the tower in great numbers. Displeased with his
uncourteous behaviour, and seeing that he was determined not to permit
me to climb the tower, were it ever so feasible, we withdrew and called
upon the imám, who lives in a house attached to these vaults, and which
looked a little neater from having been whitewashed; however, he had no
power to aid us in our purpose, but rather confirmed the statement of
the kádhi.
This is the principal mosque of the town, and seems to have always been
so, although there are said to have been formerly as many as seventy
mosques, of which ten are still in use. They deserve no mention,
however, with the exception of three, the Msíd Míli[165], Msíd Éheni,
and Msíd el Mékki. I will only add here that the Emgedesíye, so far as
their very slender stock of theological learning and doctrine entitles
them to rank with any sect, are Malekíye, as well as the Kél-owí.
Resigning myself to the disappointment of not being able to ascend the
tower, I persuaded my friend to take a longer walk with me round the
northern quarter of the town. But I forgot to mention that besides Hámma
I had another companion of a very different character. This was
Zúmmuzuk, a reprobate of the worst description, and whose features bore
distinct impress of the vile and brutal passions which actuated him; yet
being a clever fellow, and (as the illegitimate son, or “dan néma,” of
an Emgédesi woman) fully master of the peculiar idiom of Ágades, he was
tolerated not only by the old chief Ánnur, who employed him as
interpreter, but even by me. How insolent the knave could be, I shall
soon have occasion to mention.
With this fellow, therefore, and with Hámma, I continued my walk,
passing the kófa-n-alkáli, and then, from the ruins of the quarter Ben-
Gottára, turning to the north. Here the wall of the town is in a
tolerable state of preservation, but very weak and insufficient, though
it is kept in repair, even to the pinnacles, on account of its
surrounding the palace of the sultan. Not far from this is an open space
called Azarmádarangh, “the place of execution,” where occasionally the
head of a rebellious chieftain or a murderer is cut off by the “dóka;”
but as far as I could learn, such things happen very seldom. Even on the
north side, two gates are in a tolerable state of preservation.
Having entered the town from this side, we went to visit the quarter of
the leather-workers, which, as I stated before, seems to have formed
originally a regular ward; all this handicraft, with the exception of
saddlework, is carried on by women, who work with great neatness. Very
beautiful provision-bags are made here, although those which I brought
back from Timbúktu are much handsomer. We saw also some fine specimens
of mats, woven of a very soft kind of grass, and dyed of various
colours. Unfortunately, I had but little with me wherewith to buy; and
even if I had been able to make purchases, the destination of our
journey being so distant, there was not much hope of carrying the things
safe to Europe. The blacksmiths’ work of Ágades is also interesting,
although showy and barbarous, and not unlike the work with which the
Spaniards used to adorn their long daggers.
[Sidenote: Monday, October 28th.]
During all this time I prosecuted inquiries with regard to several
subjects connected with the geography and ethnography of this quarter of
the world. I received several visits from Emgédesi tradesmen, many of
whom are established in the northern provinces of Háusa, chiefly in
Kátsena and Tasáwa, where living is infinitely cheaper than in Ágades.
All these I found to be intelligent men, having been brought up in the
centre of intercourse between a variety of tribes and nations of the
most different organization, and, through the web of routes which join
here, receiving information of distant regions. Several of them had even
made the Pilgrimage, and thus come in contact with the relatively high
state of civilization in Egypt and near the coast; and I shall not
easily forget the enlightened view which the mʿallem Háj Mohammed ʿOmár,
who visited me several times, took of Islámism and Christianity. The
last day of my stay in Ágades, he reverted to the subject of religion,
and asked me, in a manner fully expressive of his astonishment, how it
came to pass that the Christians and Moslemín were so fiercely opposed
to one another, although their creeds, in essential principles,
approximated so closely. To this I replied by saying that I thought the
reason was that the great majority both of Christians and Moslemín paid
less regard to the dogmas of their creeds than to external matters,
which have very little or no reference to religion itself. I also tried
to explain to him, that in the time of Mohammed Christianity had
entirely lost that purity which was its original character, and that it
had been mixed up with many idolatrous elements, from which it was not
entirely disengaged till a few centuries ago, while the Mohammedans had
scarcely any acquaintance with Christians except those of the old sects
of the Jacobites and Nestorians. Mutually pleased with our conversation,
we parted from each other with regret.
In the afternoon I was agreeably surprised by the arrival of the
Tinýlkum Ibrahim, for the purpose of supplying his brother’s house with
what was wanted; and being determined to make only one day’s stay in the
town, he had learned with pleasure that we were about to return by way
of Áfasás, the village whither he himself was going. I myself had
cherished this hope, as all the people had represented that place as one
of the largest in the country, and as pleasantly situated. Hámma had
promised to take me this way on our return to Tintéllust; but having
stayed so much longer in the town than he had intended, and being afraid
of arriving too late for the salt-caravan of the Kél-owí on their way to
Bilma, which he was to supply with provisions, he changed his plan, and
determined to return by the shortest road. Meanwhile he informed me that
the old chief would certainly not go with us to Zínder till the salt-
caravan had returned from Bilma.
Fortunately, in the course of the 29th a small caravan with corn arrived
from Damerghú; and Hámma completed his purchases. He had, however, first
to settle a disagreeable affair; for our friend Zúmmuzuk had bought in
Hamma’s name several things, for which payment was now demanded. Hámma
flew into a terrible rage, and nearly finished the rogue. My Arab and
Tawáti friends, who heard that we were to start the following day,
though they were rather busy buying corn, came to take leave of me; and
I was glad to part from all of them in friendship. But before bidding
farewell to this interesting place, I shall make a few general
observations on its history.
[Footnote 147: I am not quite sure with regard to this place, as I find
a note in my memorandum-book, “The name of the place in question is
Ingal, on the road to Sókoto, and not Aghíllad.”]
[Footnote 148: Delélti is not a Háusa word.]
[Footnote 149: It is remarkable that while _ba_ in the Háusa language
expresses the masculine in the composition of national names, _ma_
originally served to denote the female; but the latter form seems to be
almost lost.]
[Footnote 150: I will here only observe, that “bére” is one of those
words in the Sónghay language which shows its connection with Sanscrit.]
[Footnote 151: The horse of Tawát is as celebrated amongst the Berber
tribes of the desert as the Ímanang woman or “the wealth of Tunis.”]
[Footnote 152: These red caps, however, are an article quite foreign to
the original dress of the Tarki, and are obnoxious to the tribes of pure
blood.]
[Footnote 153: I have brought home a specimen of these tobes, among
various others. The tailelt was my common dress during all the latter
part of my journey. A representation of its distinguishing ornaments
will be given in the next volume.]
[Footnote 154: Who these Turáwa are I shall explain further on.]
[Footnote 155: Here also the name of the country is written with an
_h_—اهير—as is always done by the Arabs (see what I have said above).]
[Footnote 156: ʿAbd el Kerím was the name I adopted from the beginning
as my travelling name.]
[Footnote 157: من امحاربين والظالمين.]
[Footnote 158: I follow the translation of the learned Rev. G. C.
Renouard.]
[Footnote 159: The Rev. G. C. Renouard, in interpreting this passage,
has evidently made a mistake in translating “the Minister _of the_
Sultan,” and adding in a note that Emír “is here a title given to the
Emír el Núr,” while it is to be referred to the sultan himself.]
[Footnote 160: By the expression “el fókarah” the Sultan certainly meant
us, who were not travelling for trading purposes, but rather like
dervishes.]
[Footnote 161: All the tribes in Central Africa, who wear the large
tobes or shirts, tuck their sleeves up when about to undertake any work,
or going to fight.]
[Footnote 162: Leo, in the interesting description which he gives of
this town, l. vii. c. 9., expressly praises the size and architecture of
the houses: “Le case sono benissimo edificate a modo delle case di
Barberia.” He also speaks here of the great number of male slaves whom
the merchants were obliged to keep, in order to protect themselves on
the roads to Negroland.]
[Footnote 163: From Leo’s description, l. vii. c. 9., it would appear
that the palace of the sultan in former times was in the middle of the
town—“un bel palazzo in mezzo della città.” He kept a numerous host of
soldiers.]
[Footnote 164: The hostile disposition of the kádhi towards me was most
unfortunate, as he would have been the very man to give me the
information I wanted; for I did not meet any other native of the place
well versed in Arabic literature, and but a few were able to speak
Arabic at all.]
[Footnote 165: Whether this name be a corruption of Mghíli, meaning the
fanatical Mohammedan apostle Mohammed ben ʿAbd el Kerím el Maghíli, of
whom I have spoken above, I cannot say.]
CHAP. XVIII.
HISTORY OF ÁGADES.
If we had before us the historical work upon the authority of which
Mohammed el Bágeri assured Sultan Bello that the people of Góber, who
formerly possessed the country of Aïr, were Copts[166], we should most
probably find in it the history of Ágades. As it is, however, until that
book shall come to light, of which I do not at all despair, provided
future travellers inquire diligently for it, we must be content with
endeavouring to concentrate the faint and few rays of light which dimly
reveal to us, in its principal features, the history of this remarkable
town.
Previously to Mr. Cooley’s perspicuous inquiries into the Negroland of
the Arabs, this place was identified with Aúdaghost, merely on account
of a supposed similarity of name. But Ágades, or rather Égedesh, is
itself a pure Berber word, in no way connected with Aúdaghost. It is of
very frequent occurrence, particularly among the Awelímmiden, and means
“family;” and the name was well chosen for a town consisting of mixed
elements. Moreover, while we find Aúdaghost in the far west in the 12th
century, we have the distinct statement of Marmol[167], that Ágades was
founded a hundred and sixty years before the time when he wrote (that is
to say, in 1460), the truth of which statement, harmonizing as it does
with Leo’s more general account, that it was a modern town[168], we have
no reason to doubt. Neither of these authors tells us who built it; but
as we know that the great Sónghay conqueror Háj Mohammed Áskiá, who
conquered the town of Ágades in the year of the Hejra 921, or 1515 of
our era[169], expelled from it the five Berber tribes who, according to
the information collected by me during my stay in Ágades, and which I
shall soon lay before my readers, must have been long resident in the
town, it appears highly probable that these Berbers were its founders.
And if this be assumed, there will be no difficulty in explaining why
the language of the natives of the place at present is a dialect of the
Sónghay language, as it is most probable that that great and enlightened
conqueror, after he had driven out the old inhabitants, established in
this important place a new colony of his own people. In a similar way we
find the Sónghay nation, which seems not to have originally extended to
a great distance eastward of Gágho or Gógo, now extending into the very
heart of Kébbi, although we shall find other people speaking the same
language in the neighbourhood of Ágades, and perhaps may be able in the
course of our researches to trace some connection between the Sónghay
and ancient Egypt.
It is therefore highly probable that those five Berber tribes formed the
settlement in question as an entrepôt for their commerce with Negroland,
though the foundation of such a grand settlement on the border of the
desert presumes that they had at that time a preponderating influence in
all these regions; and the whole affair is so peculiar, that its history
could not fail to gratify curiosity if more could be known of it. From
Bello’s account, it would appear that they, or at least one of these
tribes (the Aújila[170]), conquered the whole of Aïr.
It is certainly remarkable to see people from five places separated from
each other by immense tracts, and united only by the bond of commerce
and interest, founding a large colony far away from their homes, and on
the very border of the desert. For, according to all that I could learn
by the most sedulous inquiries in Ágades, those tribes belonged to the
Gurára of Tawát, to the Tafimáta, to the Beni Wazít, and the Tésko of
Ghadámes, to the once powerful and numerous tribe of the Masráta, and
finally to the Aújila; and as the names of almost all these different
tribes, and of their divisions, are still attached to localities of the
town, we can scarcely doubt the correctness of this information, and
must suppose that Sultan Bello was mistaken in referring the five tribes
(settled in Ágades) to Aújila alone.[171]
Though nothing is related about the manner in which Háj Mohammed Áskiá
took possession of the town[172], except that it is stated distinctly
that he drove out the five tribes, it seems, from the traditions current
in Ágades, that a considerable number of the Berbers, with five hundred
“jákhfa” (cages mounted on camels, such as only wealthy people can
afford to keep for carrying their wives), left the town, but were all
massacred. But no one who regards with the least attention the character
of the present population of the town, can doubt for a moment that a
considerable number of the Berber population remained behind, and in
course of time mixed with the Sónghay colonists; for, even if we set
aside the consideration of the language (which is greatly intermixed
with Berber words), there is evidently much Berber blood in the
population even at the present day,—a fact which is more evident in the
females than in the males.
It is a pity that Leo says nothing about the language spoken in
Ágades[173]; for he lived just at the very period during which the town,
from a Berber settlement, became a Negro town. His expression[174]
certainly implies that he regarded it as a Negro town. But, while well-
informed in general respecting the great conquests of Mohammed Áskiá
(or, as he calls him, Ischia, whom he erroneously styles king of
Timbúktu), he does not once mention his expedition against Ágades, of
which he might have heard as easily as of those against Kátsena and
Kanó, which preceded the former only by two years. From his account it
would seem that the town was then in a very flourishing state, full of
foreign merchants and slaves, and that the king, though he paid a
tribute of 150,000 ducats to the king of Timbúktu (Gágho), enjoyed a
great degree of independence, at least from that quarter, and had even a
military force of his own. Besides, it is stated expressly that he
belonged to the Berber race.[175] But it would almost seem as if Leo in
this passage represented the state of things as it was when he visited
the town, before Áskiá’s time, and not at the date when he wrote, though
the circumstance of the tribute payable to that king may have been
learnt from later information. In general, the great defect in Leo’s
description is, that the reader has no exact dates to which to refer the
several statements, and that he cannot be sure how far the author speaks
as an eye-witness, and how far from information.[176]
Of course it is possible that the Berbers found a Sónghay population, if
not in the place itself, which most probably did not exist before the
time of their arrival, yet in the district around it; and it would seem
that there existed in ancient times, in the celebrated valley of Ír-n-
allem, a small town of which[177] some vestiges are said to remain at
the present day, as well as two or three date-trees—the solitary remains
of a large plantation. From this town, tradition says, the present
inhabitants of Ágades were transplanted. But be this as it may, it is
certain that the same dialect of the Sónghay language which is spoken in
Ágades, is also still spoken in a few places in the neighbourhood, by
the tribe of the Íghdalén, or Ighedálen, whose whole appearance,
especially their long hair, shows them to be a mixed race of Songhay and
Berbers; and there is some reason to suppose that they belonged
originally to the Zenága or Senhája. These people live in and around
Íngal, a small town four days’ journey from Ágades, on the road to
Sókoto[178], and in and around Tegídda, a place three days’ journey from
Íngal, and about five from Ágades W.S.W. This latter place is of
considerable interest, being evidently identical with the town of the
same name mentioned by Ebn Khaldún[179] and by Ebn Batúta[180] as a
wealthy place, lying eastward from Gógo, on the road to Egypt, and in
intimate connection and friendly intercourse with the Mzáb and Wárgela.
It was governed by a Berber chief, with the title of sultan. This place,
too, was for some time subject to Gógo, or rather to the empire of Mélle
or Máli, which then comprised Sónghay, in the latter part of the 14th
century; and the circumstance that here too the Sónghay language is
still spoken may be best explained by referring it to colonization,
since it is evident that Áskiá, when he took possession of Ágades, must
have occupied Tegídda also, which lay on the road from Gógo to that
place. However, I will not indulge in conjectures, and will merely enter
into historical questions so far as they contribute to furnish a vivid
and coherent picture of the tribes and countries with which my journey
brought me into contact. I will therefore only add, that this place,
Tegídda or Tekádda, was famous, in the time of Ebn Batúta, for its
copper-mines, the ores of which were exported as far as Bórnu and Góber,
while at present nothing is known of the existence of copper hereabouts;
but a very good species of salt of red colour (já-n-gísherí), which is
far superior to that of Bílma, is obtained here, as well as in Íngal.
But I recommend this point to the inquiry of future travellers. I have
mentioned above the presence of loadstone on the border of Aïr.
Having thus attempted to elucidate and illustrate the remarkable fact,
that the language of Ágades is derived from and akin to the Sónghay,—a
fact which of course appeared to me more surprising before I discovered,
in the course of 1853, that this language extends eastward far beyond
the so-called Niger,—I return once more to the settlement of the Berbers
in Ágades. It is evident that this settlement, if it was of the nature
described above, was made for the purpose of serving as a great
commercial entrepôt for the commerce with another country; and if we
duly consider the statements made by El Bekri[181], Ebn Batúta[182],
Leo[183], Ca da Mosto[184], and by the author of the “History of
Sónghay,” with regard to the importance of the market of Gógo, and if we
pay due attention to that circuitous route which led from Gógo by way of
Tegídda not only to Egypt, but even to Tawát[185], there cannot be the
least doubt that Ágades was founded by those Berber tribes, with the
distinct purpose that it might serve them as a secure abode and
fortified magazine in their commercial intercourse with that splendid
capital of the Sónghay empire, the principal article of which was gold,
which formed also the chief article in the former commerce of Ágades.
For Ágades had its own standard weight of this precious metal,—the
mithkál, which even at the present day regulates the circulating medium.
And this mithkál of Ágades is totally different from the standard of the
same name which is in use in Timbúktu, the latter being, in regard to
the value of the Spanish dollar, as 1⅓ to 1, and the former only as ⅖ to
1. But for wholesale business a greater weight was in use, called
“kárruwe,” the smaller kárruwe containing thirty-three mithákel or
mithkals and a third, equal to two rottls and a sixth, while the larger
kárruwe contained a hundred mithkals, and was equal to six rottls and a
half.
The importance of the trade of Ágades, and the wealth of the place in
general, appear very clearly from the large tribute, of a hundred and
fifty thousand ducats, which the king of Ágades was able to pay to that
of Sónghay, especially if we bear in mind that Leo, in order to give an
idea of the great expense which this same king of Sónghay had incurred
on his pilgrimage to Mekka, states in another passage[186] that having
spent all he took with him, he contracted a debt amounting to that very
sum. As for the king of Ágades, his situation was at that time just what
it is now; and we cannot better describe his precarious position,
entirely dependent on the caprice and intrigues of the influential
chiefs of the Tawárek, than by using the very words of Leo, “Alle volte
scacciano il re e pongono qualche suo parente in luogo di lui, nè usano
ammazzar alcuno; e quel che più contenta gli abitatori del diserto è
fatto re in Agadez.”
Unfortunately, we are not able to fix a date for that very peculiar
covenant between the different tribes with regard to the installation of
the sultan of Ágades, and the establishing of the principle that he must
belong to a certain family, which is regarded as of sheríf
nobility[187], and lives not in Ágades, nor even in the country of Aïr,
but in a town of Góber. I was once inclined to think that this was an
arrangement made in consequence of the power and influence which the
Emír of Sókoto had arrogated to himself; but I have now reason to doubt
this, for even the grandfather of ʿAbd el Káder was sultan. Certainly
even now, when the power of the Fulfúlde or Féllani empire is fast
crumbling to pieces, the Emír of Sókoto has a certain influence upon the
choice of the sultan of Ágades. Of this fact I myself became witness
during my stay in Sókoto in April 1853, when Hámed e’ Rufäy was once
more sent out to succeed ʿAbd el Káder. Indeed Ittegáma, ʿAbd el Káder’s
brother, who thought that I enjoyed the favour and confidence of the
Emír, called upon me (as I shall relate in due time) expressly in order
to entreat me most urgently to exert my influence in order to restore my
former host to his authority.
I have described already in what way the union of the tribes of the
Itísan, the Kél-gerés, and the Kél-owí is expressed in installing the
sultan; but though without the presence and assent of the former the new
prince could never arrive at his place of residence, the final decision
seems to rest with the chief Ánnur, the inhabitants of the town having
no voice in the matter. The sultan is rather a chief of the Tawárek
tribes residing in Ágades than the ruler of Ágades. How difficult and
precarious his position must be, may be easily conceived if it be
considered that these tribes are generally at war with one another; the
father of Hámed e’ Rufäy was even killed by the Kél-gerés. Nevertheless,
if he be an intelligent and energetic man, his influence in the midst of
this wild conflict and struggle of clashing interests and inclinations
must be very beneficial.
What the revenue of the sultan may at present amount to, it is difficult
to say. His means and income consist chiefly in the presents which he
receives on his accession to authority, in a contribution of one
bullock’s hide or kulábu (being about the value of half a Spanish
dollar) from each family, in a more considerable but rather uncertain
tribute levied upon the Imghád, in the tax of ten mithkáls or four
Spanish dollars which he levies on each camel-load of foreign
merchandise which enters the town of Ágades[188] (articles of food being
exempt from charge), in a small tribute derived from the salt brought
from Bílma, and in the fines levied on lawless people and marauders, and
often on whole tribes. Thus it is very probable that the expedition
which ʿAbd el Káder undertook immediately after his accession, against
the tribes who had plundered us, enriched him considerably. As for the
inhabitants of Ágades themselves, I was assured that they do not pay him
any tribute at all, but are obliged only to accompany him on his
expeditions. Of course in earlier times, when the commerce of the town
was infinitely greater than at present, and when the Imghád (who had to
provide him with cattle, corn, fruit, and vegetables) were strictly
obedient, his income far exceeded that of the present day. When taken
altogether it is certainly considerably under twenty thousand dollars.
His title is Amanókal, or Amanókal Imakóren, in Temáshight, Kókoy[189]
bére in the Emgédesi, and Babá-n-Serkí, in the Háusa language.
The person second in authority in the town, and in certain respects the
vizier, is now, and apparently was also in ancient times, the “kókoy
gerégeré”[190] (_i.e._ master of the courtyard or the interior of the
palace). This is his real indigenous character, while the foreigners,
who regarded him only in his relation to themselves, called him sheikh
el ʿArab, or, in the Háusa language, serkí-n-turáwa[191] (the chief of
the Whites); and this is the title by which he is generally known. For
it was he who had to levy the tax on the merchandise imported into the
town,—an office which in former times, when a considerable trade was
carried on, was of great importance. But the chief duty of the “serkí-n-
turáwa,” at the present time, is to accompany annually the salt-caravan
of the Kél-gerés, which supplies the western part of Middle Sudán with
the salt of Bílma, from Ágades to Sókoto, and to protect it on the road
as well as to secure it against exorbitant exactions on the part of the
Fúlbe of Sókoto. For this trouble he receives one “kántu,” that is to
say the eighth part (eight kántu weighing three Turkish kantars or
quintals) of a middle-sized camel-load, a contribution which forms a
considerable income in this country, probably of from eight to ten
thousand Spanish dollars, the caravan consisting generally of some
thousand camels, not all equally laden, and the kántu of salt fetching
in Sudán from five thousand to seven and eight thousand kurdí or shells,
which are worth from two to three dollars. Under such circumstances
those officers, who at the same time trade on their own account, cannot
but amass considerable wealth. Mohammed Bóro as well as Áshu are very
rich, considering the circumstances of the country.
After having escorted the salt-caravan to Sókoto, and settled the
business with the Emír of this place, the serkí-n-turáwa in former times
had to go to Kanó, where he received a small portion of the six hundred
kurdí, the duty levied on each slave brought to the slave-market, after
which he returned to Ágades with the Kél-gerés that had frequented the
market of Kanó. I had full opportunity, in the further course of my
journey, to convince myself that such is not now the case; but I cannot
say what is the reason of this custom having been discontinued, though
it may be the dangerous state of the road between Sókoto and Kanó.
Mohammed Bóro, the former serkí-n-turáwa, has still residences as well
in Kanó and Zínder as in Sókoto and Ágades.
From what I have said it is clear that at present the serkí-n-turáwa has
much more to do with the Tawárek and Fúlbe than with the Arabs, and at
the same time is a sort of mediator between Ágades and Sókoto.
Of the other persons in connection with the sultan, the “kókoy kaina” or
“bába-n-serkí”[192] (the chief eunuch), at present Ámagay, the fadawa-n-
serkí (the aides-de-camp of the sultan), as well as the kádhi or alkáli,
and the war-chief Sidi Ghalli, I have spoken in the diary of my
residence in the place.
I have already stated above, that the southern part of the town, which
at present is almost entirely deserted, formed the oldest quarter, while
Katánga, or “báki-n-bírni,” seems to have been its northern limit.
Within these limits the town was about two miles in circuit, and when
thickly peopled, may have contained about thirty thousand inhabitants;
but after the northern quarter was added, the whole town had a circuit
of about three miles and a half, and may easily have mustered as many as
fifty thousand inhabitants, or even more. The highest degree of power
seems to have been attained before the conquest of the town by Mohammed
Áskiá in the year 1515, though it is said to have been a considerable
and wealthy place till about sixty years ago (reckoned from 1850), when
the greatest part of the inhabitants emigrated to the neighbouring towns
of Háusa, chiefly Kátsena, Tasáwa, Marádi, and Kanó. The exact
circumstances which brought about this deplorable desertion and
desolation of the place I was not able to learn; and the date of the
event cannot be made to coincide with the period of the great revolution
effected in Middle Sudán by the rising of the Jihádi, “the reformer,”
ʿOthmán da-n-Fódiye, which it preceded by more than fifteen years; but
it coincides with or closely follows upon an event which I shall have to
dwell upon in the further course of my proceedings. This is the conquest
of Gʿao or Gógo (the former capital of the Sónghay empire, and which
since 1591 had become a province of the empire of Morocco) by the
Tawárek. As we have seen above that Ágades had evidently been founded as
an entrepôt for the great trade with this most flourishing commercial
place on the Ísa or Niger, at that time the centre of the gold-trade, of
course the ransacking and wholesale destruction of this town could not
but affect in the most serious manner the well-being of Ágades, cutting
away the very roots through which it received life.
At present I still think that I was not far wrong in estimating the
number of the inhabited houses at from six hundred to seven hundred, and
the population at about seven thousand, though it must be borne in mind
that, as the inhabitants have still preserved their trading character, a
great many of the male inhabitants are always absent from home, a
circumstance which reduces the armed force of the place to about six
hundred. A numerical element capable of controlling the estimated amount
of the population, is offered by the number of from two hundred and
fifty to three hundred well-bred boys, who at the time of my visit were
learning a little reading and writing, in five or six schools scattered
over the town; for it is not every boy who is sent to school, but only
those belonging to families in easy circumstances, and they are all
about the same age, from eight to ten years old.
[Illustration:
1. House where I lodged.
2. Great mosque or Mesállaje.
3. Palace or Fáda.
4. Káswa-n-delélti or Táma-n-lókoy.
5. Káswa-n-rákoma.
6. Katánga.
7. Erárar-n-zákan.
8. Mohammed Bóro’s house.
9. House of the Kádhi.
10. Well Shedwánka.
11. Pools of stagnant water.
12. Kófa-n-Alkáli.
13. Masráta hogúme.
14. Suburb of Ben Gottára.]
With regard to the names of the quarters of the town, which are
interesting in an historical point of view, I was not able to learn
exactly the application of each of the names; and I am sure very few
even of the inhabitants themselves can now tell the limits of the
quarters, on account of the desolate state of many of them. The
principal names which can be laid down with certainty in the plan, are
Masráta, Gobetáren, Gáwa-Ngírsu, Dígi or Dégi, Katánga, Terjemán, and
Arrafía, which comprise the south-western quarter of the town. The names
of the other quarters, which I attempted to lay down on the plan sent to
Government together with my report, I now deem it prudent to withdraw,
as I afterwards found that there was some uncertainty about them. I
therefore collect here, for the information of future travellers, the
names of the other quarters of the place besides those mentioned above
and marked in the plan—Lárelóg, Churúd, Hásena, Amaréwuël, Imurdán
(which name, I was assured afterwards, has nothing in common with the
name of the tribe of the Imghád), Tafimáta (the quarter where the tribe
of the same name lived), Yobímme (“yobu-mé” meaning the mouth of the
market), Dégi-n-béne, or the Upper Dégi, and Bosenrára. Kachíy_u_ (not
Kachí_n_) seems to have been originally the name of a pool; as I was
assured that, besides the three ponds still visible, there were formerly
seven others, namely Kudúru, Kachíyu, Chikinéwan, Lángusú-gázará,
Kurungúsu, and Rabafáda,—this latter in the square of the palace.
The whole ground upon which the town is built (being the edge of a
table-land, which coincides with the transition from granite to
sandstone[193]), seems to be greatly impregnated with salt at a certain
depth, of which not only the ponds, but even the wells bear
evidence,—two of the three wells still in use having saltish water, and
only that of Shedwánka being, as to taste, free from salt, though it is
still regarded as unwholesome, and all the water used for drinking is
brought from the wells outside the walls. Formerly, it is said, there
were nine wells inside the town.
From what I have said above, it may be concluded that the commerce of
Ágades is now inconsiderable. Its characteristic feature is, that no
kind of money whatever is current in the market, neither gold, nor
silver, nor kurdí nor shells; while strips of cotton or gábagá (the
Kanúri, and not the Háusa term being employed in this case, because the
small quantity of this stuff which is current is imported from the
north-western province of Bórnu) are very rare, and indeed form almost
as merely nominal a standard as the mithkál. Nevertheless the value of
the mithkál is divided into ten rijáls or érjel, which measure means
eight drʿa or cubits of gábagá. The real standard of the market, I must
repeat, is millet or dukhn (“géro” in Háusa, “éneli” in Temáshight,
_Pennisetum typhoïdeum_), durra or _Holcus sorghum_ being scarcely ever
brought to market. And it is very remarkable, that with this article a
man may buy everything at a much cheaper rate than with merchandise,
which in general fetches a low price in the place; at least it did so
during my stay, when the market had been well-stocked with everything in
demand, by the people who had come along with us. English calico of very
good quality was sold by me at twenty per cent. less than it had been
bought for at Múrzuk. Senna in former times formed an article of export
of some importance; but the price which it fetches on the coast has so
decreased that it scarcely pays the carriage, the distance from the
coast being so very great; and it scarcely formed at all an article in
request here, nor did we meet on our whole journey a single camel laden
with it, though it grows in considerable quantities in the valleys
hereabouts.
Ágades is in no respect a place of resort for wealthy merchants, not
even Arabs, while with regard to Europe its importance at present
consists in its lying on the most direct road to Sókoto and that part of
Sudán. In my opinion it would form for a European agent a very good and
comparatively healthy place from which to open relations with Central
Africa. The native merchants seem only to visit the markets of Kátsena,
Tasáwa, Marádi, Kanó and Sókoto, and, as far as I was able to learn,
never go to the northern markets of Ghát or Múrzuk, unless on a journey
to Mekka, which several of them have made. Neither does there seem to
exist any intercourse at present with Gágho or Gógo, or with Timbúktu;
but the Arabs of Azawád and those parts, when undertaking a pilgrimage,
generally go by way of Ágades.
I here add the prices of different articles, as they were sold in the
market during my residence in the place:—
Mithkál.[194] Réjel.
Dukhn “géro” (_Pennisetum_), or durra “dáwa” 1 0
(_sorghum_), twenty zekka, being equal to
forty of the measure used in Tin-téllust
Rice, ten zekka 1 0
Camel, a young one, two years old, not yet 18 0
fit for carrying loads
Ditto, full grown 25 0
Horse, a good strong one 100 0
Ditto, a fine one, of Tawát breed 1000 0
Ass 6 to 8 0
Ox 8 0
Calf 4 0
Ram 1 5
Sandals, a pair of common ones 0 1
Ditto, a pair of fine ones 0 5
Camel-saddle (or “rákhla” in Arabic, “kígi” 10 0
in Temáshight)
Ditto, a common one 5 0
Leather bag, of coloured leather, for 1 0
containing clothes
Mat, a fine coloured one 0 6
English calico, ten drʿa or cubits 1 0
Subéta, or white Egyptian shawl with red 1 0
border
Kórnu, or the fine Egyptian coloured 1 0
sheep-leather, a piece
Túrkedi, or the dark-coloured cotton cloth 2 0
for female dress of Kanó manufacture, common
Ditto, of finer texture 3 to 5 3
I must here add, that I did not observe that the people of Ágades use
manna in their food, nor that it is collected in the neighbourhood of
the town; but I did not inquire about it on the spot, not having taken
notice of the passage of Leo relating to it.
My stay in Ágades was too short to justify my entering into detail about
the private life of the people, but all that I saw convinced me that,
although open to most serious censure on the part of the moralist, it
presented many striking features of cheerfulness and happiness, and
nothing like the misery which is often met with in towns which have
declined from their former glory. It still contains many active germs of
national life, which are most gratifying to the philosophic traveller.
The situation, on an elevated plateau, cannot but be healthy, as the few
waterpools, of small dimensions, are incapable of infecting the air. The
disease which I have mentioned in my diary as prevalent at the time of
my sojourn was epidemic. Besides, it must be borne in mind that the end
of the rainy season everywhere in the tropical regions is the most
unhealthy period of the year.[195]
[Footnote 166: Sultan Bello’s “Enfák el Misúri fi taríkh belád el
Tekrúri,” in Denham and Clapperton’s Travels, Appendix, vol. ii. p. 162.
I myself have a copy of the same extracts from this work of Bello.]
[Footnote 167: Marmol, Descripcion dell’ Africa, vol. iii. fl. xxiv. b.:
“Agadez es una provincia . . . ay en ella una ciudad del proprio nombre,
que a sido edificada de ciento y sesenta años a este parte.”]
[Footnote 168: Leo Africanus, l. vii. c. 9.: “Edificata dai moderni re
(?) ne’ confini di Libia.” The word “re” is very suspicious.]
[Footnote 169: See the extracts of Bábá Ahmed’s “Taríkh e’ Sudan,” sent
by me to Europe, and published in the Journal of the German Oriental
Society, 1855. This statement agrees exactly with an interesting passage
in Sultan Bello’s “Enfák el Misúri,” which has been unaccountably
omitted by Saláme in the translation appended to Denham and Clapperton’s
Travels.]
[Footnote 170: Bello took an erroneous view of the subject in supposing
all the five tribes to have come from Aújila. Only one of them was
originally from that place; and the names of the five tribes as
mentioned by him are evidently erroneous. (See the following note.) The
error in deriving all these five tribes from Aújila originated,
probably, in the general tradition that the whole nation of the Berbers
had spread over North Africa from Syria by way of the oasis of Aújila.]
[Footnote 171: Bello, in Appendix to Denham and Clapperton’s Travels,
vol. ii. p. 160. Indeed in this passage he does not mention distinctly
Ágades, but speaks in general of the province of Ahír (Aïr); it is
clear, however, that the five tribes mentioned here as having wrested
the whole country from the hands of the Goberáwa are identical with
those settled in Ágades. Bello, in this case, was evidently ill-
informed, for Amákitan seems not to be the name of a tribe, but of a
man; Ajdaranin is the name of a section of the Kél-gerés; the Agdálar
seem to be identical with the Íghdalén. Certainly the Aújila were a most
celebrated tribe; and it appears from Edrísi’s report (Jaubert, vol. i.
p. 238.), that even at so early an age as the middle of the 12th century
of our era they carried on intercourse with Kawár and Gógo by way of
Ghadámes.]
[Footnote 172: Áhmed Bábá, in relating this most interesting expedition
of the greatest hero of his historical work, is most provokingly brief;
but the reason is, that he was well acquainted only with the countries
near Timbúktu.]
[Footnote 173: In the Report which I sent to Government from my journey,
and which has been printed in the Journal of the Royal Geographical
Society, I stated, that according to Leo’s account the Háusa language
was spoken at that time in Ágades; but it was a mere lapse of memory.
From no passage of his can any conclusion be drawn with regard to this
subject.]
[Footnote 174: “E questa città è quasi vicina alla città dei Bianchi piú
che alcun’ altra _de’ Negri_.”]
[Footnote 175: Leo, l. vii. c. 9., et l. i. c. 10. near the end.]
[Footnote 176: What Leo says, l. vii. c. 1., of Abubakr Ischia (that is
to say, Mohammed ben Abú Bakr el Háj Áskiá)—“Acquistando in anni
quindici appresso molti regni, e poichè ebbe reso pacifico e quieto il
suo, gli venne disio di andar come pellegrino a Mecca”—is very confused;
for Mohammed Áskiá, having ascended the throne on the 14th of Jumád II.
898, began the pilgrimage in Safer, 902, consequently in the fifth year
of his reign; yet Leo received information of his expedition against
Kátsena and the adjoining provinces, which was made in 919.]
[Footnote 177: See itinerary in the Appendix.]
[Footnote 178: See Appendix.]
[Footnote 179: Ebn Khaldún, ed. Slane, Alger. 1847, tom. i. p. 267. Ebn
Khaldún evidently says that the chief of Tegídda had friendly
intercourse with Wárgela and Mzáb, although Mr. Cooley (Negroland, p.
65.) has referred these expressions to Músa, the king of Sónghay.]
[Footnote 180: Ebn Batúta in the passage referred to above. It is
curious that both these writers give the exact distance of Tegídda from
Búda, in Tawát, and from Wárgela, both distances as of seventy marches,
while they omit to mention its distance from Gógo.]
[Footnote 181: El Bekri, “Notices et Extraits,” tom. xii. p. 649.]
[Footnote 182: Ebn Batúta repeatedly calls it the largest, handsomest,
and strongest of all the cities in Negroland.]
[Footnote 183: Leo, l. vii. c. 7.]
[Footnote 184: Navigazioni di Aloise Ca da Mosto, c. 13.: “La prima
parte di loro va con la carovana che tiene il cammino di Melli ad un
luogo che si chiama Cochia.”]
[Footnote 185: We shall see, in the further course of our proceedings,
that there is another direct road from Gógo to Tawát; but this, in
ancient times, seems not to have been frequented, on account either of
the difficulties of the road itself, or the dangerous character of the
tribes in its vicinity.]
[Footnote 186: Leo, l. vii. c. 1.: “E rimase debitore di centocinquanta
mila ducati.”]
[Footnote 187: Whether the story which circulates among the people, that
this family originally came from Stambúl or Constantinople has any
reasonable foundation, I am unable to decide.]
[Footnote 188: This seems also to have been the most important income in
the time of Leo: “Riceve il re gran rendita delle gabelle che pagano le
robe de’ forestieri.”]
[Footnote 189: In the Sónghay language “koy” means master, and is not
only employed in other compositions, such as kút-koy (the shepherd),
bír-koy (the marksman), but even as title for a governor, such as
Túmbutu-koy (the governor of Timbúktu), Jínni-koy (the governor of
Jínni). I therefore conclude that kó-koy means the master of the
masters, or greatest master—the king of kings, like the Háusa “serkí
sárakay.”]
[Footnote 190: Perhaps some might conjecture that this word geré-geré
has some connection with the Gér-geri of Ebn Batúta (see above); but I
think there is none.]
[Footnote 191: “Turáwa” is the plural of “ba-túre.” “Túre,” or “túri,”
is an old word, already mentioned by Ebn Batúta (Journal Asiatique,
1843, tom. i. p. 201.): “Les hommes blancs, qui professent les doctrines
sonnites et suivent le rite de Malik, sont designés ici (dans le royaume
de Melle) par le nom de توري.” The word, therefore, seems to have been
introduced into the Háusa language at a later period as designating the
white people, and I think has connection with the word “túra” (to pray)
in Fulfúlde, the language of the Fúlbe. I have only to mention that it
never refers to any but Arabs or Europeans.]
[Footnote 192: “Kókoy kaina” properly means the little master, a very
appropriate term for a eunuch in an Oriental court. The homonymy of
bába-n-serkí, the chief eunuch, and babá-n-serkí, the great lord or
king, in the Háusa language, is really provoking.]
[Footnote 193: Unfortunately I was unable to ascertain the elevation of
the locality by observation, as I could only take a common thermometer
with me on this trip; but, considering the whole ground along the road
from Tintéllust, I think it can scarcely be less than 2500 feet.]
[Footnote 194: The mithkál of Ágades is equal to 1000 kurdí, 2500 of
which make a Spanish or Austrian dollar.]
[Footnote 195: In an appendix will be given some routes which connect
Ágades with other places, and, radiating from it in various directions,
serve as rays of light to discover to us districts not yet visited by
any European.]
CHAP. XIX.
DEPARTURE FROM ÁGADES. — STAY IN TIN-TÉGGANA.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, October 30th.]
We at length left Ágades. I felt as if I had enjoyed a glimpse of a
totally different world, a new region of life, many relations of which
were as yet obscure to me. Timbúktu, which was in the background of
this novel and living picture, seemed an almost unattainable object.
An acquaintance with it would not fail to throw light upon this
advanced post of Sónghay nationality, and its state of civilization;
but at that time I little expected that it would be my destiny to dwell
a year in that mysterious place, and I had even reason to doubt the
possibility of reaching it from this quarter. All my thoughts were bent
on the south; and although at present retracing my steps towards the
north, yet, as it carried me back to our head- quarters, whence I might
soon expect to start for the southern regions, I regarded it as a step
in advance.
But the commencement of the journey was most abortive, and made me
rather regret that I had not spent the day in the town. Hámma was unable
to find some of the asses belonging to the caravan, for the simple
reason that our friend Zúmmuzuk had sold them; and the whole day was
lost, so that we encamped after a march of scarcely two miles and a
half. Here we were joined by Ibrahím and by a very amiable, intelligent
Kél-owí of the name of Rábbot, who informed me that to the east of the
valley Tefárrakad there were several other valleys not at all inferior
to it in exuberance and variety of vegetation. As the most important
among them, he named to me Ámdegra, Édob, Téwarni, Tíndawén, and
Aságatay.
When at length, on Thursday morning, we fairly began our journey, we
followed entirely our old road, Hámma being anxious to get home; but
nevertheless, as the mountains and ridges which characterize this region
now met the eyes from the other side, the scenery was a good deal
varied, and I had frequent opportunities of completing my map of this
part of the country. Besides, we chose our encampments in new
localities; and many little incidents varied our journey, the most
interesting of which was the approach of a party of five lions in the
valley Búdde, when Hámma called us to arms. He, Rábbot, Mohammed, and I
advanced to meet them, but they soon turned their backs, leaping over
the rocky ground towards their mountain-retreat. The lion of Aïr does
not seem to be a very ferocious animal, and, like those of all this
border-region of the desert, has no mane—that is to say, as compared
with other lions. The maneless lion of Guzerat is well known, but a
similar species seems also to occur in Sind and Persia. The lion of
Central Africa, at least of Bórnu and Logón, has a beautiful mane; and
the skin of a lion of that region, which I took with me on my journey to
western Sudán, excited the admiration of all who saw it.
The valley Tíggeda had now a very different aspect from that which it
wore when we were going to Ágades; for while at that time, beautiful as
it was, it was not enlivened by a single human being, now at its very
head we met a considerable caravan of Kél-owí laden with salt, and
accompanied by a herd of young camels to be bartered in the market of
Ágades for corn, and further on we found a herd of from sixty to seventy
head of cattle, and numerous flocks of goats, indulging in the rich
herbage which had previously excited my astonishment. Our minds likewise
were here excited by the important news that the old chief of Tintéllust
had started for Sudán, not only with my fellow-travellers, but with the
whole caravan; but while my fiery and frivolous Mohammed heaped
conjecture upon conjecture, meditating how we should be able to reach
them, Hámma, who knew his father-in-law better, and who was conscious of
his own importance and dignity, remained incredulous. We had some very
pretty mountain-views from this side, especially when we approached
Mount Eghellál, behind which the Búnday and other mountains rose into
view.
On the morning of the 5th of November, which was to be the day of our
arrival in Tintéllust, it was so cold that we started rather late, Hámma
simply declaring that the cold did not allow him to go on— “Dári yahánna
fataúchi.” Having started at length, we made a long day’s march; and
after eleven hours and a half travelling reached the well-known sand-
hill opposite Tintéllust, where our encampment had stayed so long, not
by the great road along the valley, but by “The Thief’s Passage,” in
order to observe before we were observed.
But the residence of the great chief Ánnur was buried in the deepest
silence; the courtiers, the blacksmiths, all the great men and ladies,
had gone away. Hámma went to see if anybody remained behind, while we
cooked our rice, and prepared to make ourselves comfortable for the
night. That, however, was out of the question, for when he returned, he
ordered us to decamp at once; and though nothing is more dreadful than a
night’s march, particularly when it succeeds to a long day’s journey,
yet in the enthusiasm awakened by the thought of going southwards, I
with all my heart joined in the exclamation “sé fataúchi sé Kanó” (“no
rest before Kanó”—properly, “nothing but travelling, nothing but Kanó”)!
It was ten o’clock in the evening when we started again along the broad
valley, taking leave for ever of “the English Hill;” but I soon began to
suffer from the consequences of fatigue. In order to avoid falling from
my camel in my drowsy state, I was obliged to drag myself along, great
part of the night, on foot, which was not at all agreeable, as the
ground was at times very rugged, and covered with long grass. Having
crossed a rocky flat, we entered, about four o’clock in the morning, the
wide plain of Tin-téggana, stumbling along through the thick cover of
bú-rékkeba and other sorts of herbage, till dawn, coming on with rather
chilly air, revealed to our benumbed senses the encampment of the
caravan. Having therefore made repeated halts, to give the people time
to recognize us, in order not to occasion any alarm, as our leader Hámma
was not with us, but had lain down at the roadside to get a few hours’
rest, we made straight for the two European tents which showed us
precisely the residence of my fellow-travellers. The old chief Ánnur was
up, and received me with great kindness—more kindly, I must say, than my
colleagues, who apparently felt some jealousy on account of the success
which had attended my proceedings.
Having once more taken possession of the well-known home of our little
tent, I preferred looking about the encampment to lying down; for
sleeping after sunrise is not agreeable to me.
The valley Tin-téggana, wherein Ánnur, with his people, was encamped, is
in this place about three miles broad, being bordered towards the east
by a low range of hills with the small cone of Ádode rising to a greater
elevation; towards the west by the Búnday and some smaller mountains;
towards the south, where the ground rises, it is lined by more detached
peaks, while on the north side an open view extends down the valley as
far as the large mountain-mass which borders the valley of Tintéllust on
the north. Altogether it was a fine open landscape, embracing the
country which forms the nucleus, if I may say so, of the domain of the
old chief, whose camels pasture here the whole year round, while he
himself usually takes up his residence in this place about this season,
when nature is in its prime, and the weather becomes cool, in order to
enjoy the country air.
We ourselves had as yet no idea of making a long stay here, but indulged
in the hope of starting the next day, when all of a sudden about noon
our old friend declared solemnly that he was unable to go with us at
present, that he himself was obliged to wait for the salt-caravan, while
his confidential slave Zinghína was now to go southwards. He said that,
if we chose, we might go on with the latter. He supposed, perhaps, that
none of us would dare to do so; but when I insisted upon it afterwards,
he as well as Zinghína declared that the attempt was too dangerous; and
it would have been absurd to insist on accompanying the slave. For the
moment such a disappointment was very trying. However, I afterwards
perceived that, though we had lost more than a month of the finest
season for travelling, we had thereby acquired all possible security for
safely attaining the object of our journey; for now we were obliged to
send off all our luggage with Zinghína in advance, and might fully
expect to travel with infinitely more ease and less trouble, when no
longer encumbered with things which, though of little value,
nevertheless attracted the cupidity of the people. At the time, however,
even this was not at all agreeable, as Overweg and I had to part with
almost all our things and to send them on to Kanó, to the care of a man
of whose character we knew nothing.
[Sidenote: Friday, November 8th.]
Nearly all the Arabs and many of the Kél-owí started; and it awakened
some feeling of regret to see them go and to be ourselves obliged to
stay behind. Our friend Músa, who had been the most faithful of our
Tinýlkum camel-drivers, who had visited us almost daily in our tent, and
from whom we had obtained so much valuable information[196], was the
last to take leave of us. But as soon as the caravan was out of sight, I
determined to make the best possible use of this involuntary leisure, by
sifting elaborately the varied information which I had been able to
collect in Ágades, and by sending a full report to Europe, in order to
engage the interest of the scientific public in our expedition, and to
justify Her Majesty’s Government in granting us new supplies, without
which, after our heavy losses, we should be obliged to return directly,
leaving the chief objects of the expedition unattained. Owing to this
resolution, our quiet life in Ásben was not, I hope, without its fruits.
Our encampment, too, became more cheerful and agreeable when, on the
following day, we transferred it to the korámma Ofáyet, a beautiful
little branch-wadi of the spacious valley Tin-téggana, issuing from a
defile (a “kógo-n-dútsi”) formed by the Búnday and a lower mount to the
south, along which led the path to Ásodi. It was most densely wooded
with talha-trees, and overgrown with tall bu-rékkeba and allwot, and was
thinned only very gradually, as immense branches and whole trees were
cut down daily to feed the fires during the night; for it was at times
extremely cold, and we felt most comfortable when in the evening we
stretched ourselves in front of our tents, round an enormous fire. The
tall herbage also was by degrees consumed, not only by the camels, but
by the construction of small conical huts; so that gradually a varied
and pleasant little village sprang up in this wild spot, which is
represented in the accompanying wood-cut. The time which we were obliged
to stay here would indeed have passed by most pleasantly but for the
trouble occasioned to Overweg and myself by our impudent and dissolute
Tunisian half-caste servant, who had become quite insupportable.
Unfortunately we did not find an opportunity of sending him back; and I
thought it best to take him with me to Kanó, where I was sure to get rid
of him. Our other servant Ibrahím, also, though much more prudent, was
not at all trustworthy, which was the more to be regretted as he had
travelled all over Háusa, and even as far as Gónja, and might have
proved of immense service. But fortunately I had another servant—a thin
youth of most unattractive appearance, but who nevertheless was the most
useful attendant I ever had; and though young he had roamed about a
great deal over the whole eastern half of the desert, and shared in many
adventures of the most serious kind. He possessed, too, a strong sense
of honour, and was perfectly to be relied upon. This was Mohammed el
Gatróni, a native of Gatrón, in the southern part of Fezzán, who, with a
short interruption (when I sent him to Múrzuk with the late Mr.
Richardson’s papers and effects), remained in my service till I returned
to Fezzán in 1855.
[Illustration]
The zeal with which I had commenced finishing my report was well
rewarded; for on the 14th the Ghadámsi merchant Abu Bakr el Wákhshi (an
old man whom I shall have occasion to mention repeatedly in the course
of my journey) came to Ánnur to complain of a robbery committed upon
part of his merchandise at Tasáwa. But for this circumstance he would
not have touched at this place, and his people, whom he was sending to
Ghadámes, would have travelled along the great road by Ásodi without our
knowing anything about them. Being assured by the trustworthy old man
that the parcel would reach Ghadámes in two months, I sent off the first
part of my report; but unfortunately it arrived at that place when Her
Majesty’s Agent, Mr. Charles Dickson, to whom I had addressed it, was
absent in Tripoli,—the consequence being that it lay there for several
months.
In the course of the 15th, while sitting quietly in my tent, I suddenly
heard my name, “ʿAbd el Kerím,” pronounced by a well-known voice, and
looking out, to my great astonishment saw the little sturdy figure of my
friend Hámma trotting along at a steady pace, his iron spear in his
hand. I thought he was gone to Bílma, as we had been told; but it
appeared that, having come up with the salt-caravan at the commencement
of the Hammáda, he only supplied them with more corn, and having
conferred with them, had come back to assist his old father-in-law in
the arduous task of keeping the turbulent tribes in some state of quiet.
The degree of secrecy with which everything is done in this wild country
is indeed remarkable, and no doubt contributes in a great measure to the
influence and power of the sagacious chief of Tintéllust.
Four days later came my other friend, the foolish Mohammed, who had
accompanied the expedition of the sultan of Ágades, and who was full of
interesting details of this little campaign. Neither Astáfidet, the
prince of the Kél-owí, nor ʿAbd el Káder, the sultan residing in Ágades,
actually took part in the attack or “súkkua,” but kept at a distance. On
asking my merry friend what was the result of the whole, and whether the
state of the country to the north was now settled, and the road secure,
he exclaimed, with a significant grimace, “Bábu dádi” (not very
pleasant); and to what extent strength was sacrificed to euphony in this
expression we were soon to learn; for the next day the “makéria,” the
wife of the “mákeri” Elíyas, came to tell us that a ghazzia of the
Éfadaye had suddenly fallen upon Tin-taghóde, and had carried off two
large droves (gérki) of camels and all the moveable property. Such is
the state of this country, where the chiefs, instead of punishing
systematically the rebels and marauders, regard such instances of crime
only as opportunities for enriching themselves with plunder. The Éfadaye
do not muster more than from two hundred to three hundred spears; but
they are generally assisted by the Ígammén and Édelén, two of the tribes
of the Imghád whom I mentioned above.
The next day the old chief, accompanied by Hámma and seven other trusty
companions, set out for Tintéyyat, in order to consult with the old
mʿallem Azóri, “the wise man of Aïr,” about the means of preventing the
bad consequences likely to arise from the turbulent state into which the
country had fallen just when he was about to set out for Sudán.
The old chief, on his return from his important consultation, gave us
some interesting information about “the Lion of Tintéyyat” (Azóri).
Azóri, he said, had attained the highest degree of wisdom and learning,
comprehending all divine and human things, without ever leaving the
country of Aïr. He was now nearly blind, though younger in years than
himself. His father had likewise been a very wise man. Formerly,
according to our friend, there was another great mʿallem in the country,
named Hámi, a native of Tintághódé; and as long as he lived, the
Aníslimen, his fellow-citizens, had been good people and followed the
way of justice, while at present their name “Aníslim” was become a mere
mockery, for they were the worst of the lawless, and had lost all fear
of God; indeed almost all the troubles into which the country had been
plunged might be ascribed to their agency and intrigues. Here the old
chief had touched on his favourite theme; and he gave vent to all his
anger and wrath against those holy men, who were evidently opposed to
his authority.
The old man was, in fact, on the most friendly terms with us, and
instead of being suspicious of our “writing down his country,” was
anxious to correct any erroneous idea which we might entertain
respecting it. I shall never forget with what pleasure he looked over my
sketch of the route from Tintéllust to Ágades, while I explained to him
the principal features of it; and he felt a proud satisfaction in seeing
a stranger from a far distant country appreciate the peculiar charms of
the glens and mountains of his own native land. He was, in short, so
pleased with our manners and our whole demeanour, that one day, after he
had been reposing in my tent and chatting with me, he sent for Yusuf,
and told him plainly that he apprehended that our religion was better
than theirs; whereupon the Arab explained to him that our manners indeed
were excellent, but that our religious creed had some great defects, in
violating the unity of the Almighty God, and elevating one of His
prophets from his real rank of servant of God to that of His Son. Ánnur,
rising a little from his couch, looked steadily into Yusuf’s face, and
said, “hákkanánne” (is it so)? As for me, in order not to provoke a
disputation with Yusuf, who united in himself some of the most amiable
with some of the most hateful qualities, I kept silence as long as he
was present; but when he retired I explained to the chief that, as there
was a great variety of sects among the Mohammedans, so there was also
among the Christians, many of whom laid greater stress upon the
unimpaired unity of the Creator than even the Mohammedans. So much
sufficed for the justification of our religion; for the old man did not
like to talk much upon the subject, though he was strict in his prayers,
as far as we were able to observe. He was a man of business, who desired
to maintain some sort of order in a country where everything naturally
inclines to turbulence and disorder. In other respects, he allowed every
man to do as he liked; and notwithstanding his practical severity, he
was rather of a mild disposition, for he thought Europeans dreadful
barbarians for slaughtering without pity such numbers of people in their
battles, using big guns instead of spears and swords, which were, as he
thought, the only manly and becoming weapons.
The 25th of November was a great market-day for our little settlement,
for on the preceding day the long-expected caravan with provisions
arrived from Damerghú, and all the people were buying their necessary
supply; but we had much difficulty in obtaining what we wanted, as all
our things—even the few dollars we had still left—were depreciated, and
estimated at more than thirty per cent. less than their real value.
After having recovered in Ágades a little from the weakness of my
stomach, by the aid of the princely dishes sent me by ʿAbd el Káder, I
had, notwithstanding the fine cool weather, once more to suffer from the
effects of our almost raw and bitter dishes of Guinea corn, and the more
so as I had no tea left to wash down this unpalatable and indigestible
paste; and I felt more than common delight when we were regaled on the
27th by a fine strong soup made from the meat of the bullock which we
had bought from Ánnur for twelve thousand kurdí. It was a day of great
rejoicing, and a new epoch in our peaceful and dull existence, in
consequence of which I found my health greatly restored.
Our patience, indeed, was tried to the utmost; and I looked for some
moments with a sort of despair into Hámma’s face, when, on his return
from a mission to the Éfadaye, which seemed not to have been quite
successful, he told me on the 28th of November that we should still make
a stay here of twenty-five days. Fortunately he always chose to view
things on the worst side; and I was happy to be assured by the old chief
himself, that our stay here would certainly not exceed fifteen days.
Nevertheless, as the first short days of our sham travelling afterwards
convinced me, the veracious Hámma, who had never deceived me, was in
reality quite right in his statement. My friend came to take leave of
me, as he was to absent himself for a few days, in order to visit an
elder sister of his, who lived in Telíshiet, further up the valley of
Tin-téggana; and of course I had to supply him with some handsome little
production of European manufacture.
We had full reason to admire the energy of the old chief, who on the
30th of November went to a “privy council” with Mʿallem Azóri and Sultan
Astáfidet, which was appointed to be held in some solitary glen, halfway
between Tin-téggana and Ásodi, and, after he had returned late in the
evening of the 1st of December, was galloping along our encampment in
the morning of the 2nd, in order to visit the new watering-place lower
down in the principal valley,—the former well beginning to dry up, or
rather requiring to be dug to a greater depth, as the moisture collected
during the rainy season was gradually receding. This was the first time
we saw our friend on horseback; and though he was seventy-six years of
age, he sat very well and upright in his saddle. Overweg went on one of
the following days to see the well (which was about four miles distant
from our encampment, in a W.N.W. direction, beyond a little village of
the name of Óbrasen), but found it rather a basin formed between the
rocky cliffs, and fed, according to report, by a spring.
Meanwhile I was surprised to learn from Mohammed Byrji, Ánnur’s
grandson, and next claimant to the succession after Háj ʿAbdúwa, that
the last-named, together with El Úsu or Lúsu, the influential chief of
Azanéres, and El Hossén, had started for the south six days previously,
in order to purchase provisions for the salt-caravan. In this little
country something is always going on, and the people all appear to lead
a very restless life; what wonder, then, if most of them are the progeny
of wayfarers, begotten from fortuitous and short-lived matches? Perhaps
in no country is domestic life wanting to such a degree as among the
Kél-owí properly so called; but it would be wrong to include in this
category the tribes of purer blood living at some distance from this
centre of the salt-trade.
At length, on the 5th of December, the first body of the salt-caravan
arrived from Bílma, opening the prospect of a speedy departure from this
our African home; but although we were very eager to obtain a glance at
them, they did not become visible, but kept further to the west. The
following evening, however, several friends and partisans of the old
chief arrived, mounted on mehára, and were received by the women with
loud shrill cries of welcome (“tirlelák” in Temáshight) very similar to
the “tehlíl” of the Arabs.
Preparations were now gradually made for our setting out; but previously
it was necessary to provide a supply of water, not only for the
immediate use of the numerous salt-caravan, but for the constant one of
those people who were to remain behind during the absence of their chief
and master. Accordingly, on the 7th of December the old chief left our
encampment, with all his people, in solemn procession, in order to dig a
new well; and after having long searched with a spear for the most
favourable spot, they set to work close to the entrance of a small
branch-wádi, joining the main valley from the east side, not far from
Ádode; and having obtained a sufficient supply of water, they walled the
well in with branches and stones, so that it was capable of retaining
water at least till the beginning of the next rainy season, when, most
probably, the floods would destroy it. There are, indeed, in these
countries very few undertakings of this kind the existence of which is
calculated upon for more than a year.
Meanwhile, during our long lazy stay in this tranquil alpine retreat of
the wilderness, after I had finished my report on Ágades, I began to
study in a more comprehensive way the interesting language of that
place, and in order to effect that purpose had been obliged to make a
sort of treaty with that shameless profligate Zúmmuzuk, who, for his
exploits in Ágades, had received severe punishment from his master. The
chief conditions of our covenant were, that he was to receive every day
a certain allowance, but that during his presence in my tent he was not
to move from the place assigned him, the limits of which were very
accurately defined—of course at a respectable distance from my luggage;
and if he touched anything I was officially permitted by Ánnur to shoot
him on the spot. Notwithstanding the coolness and reserve which I was
obliged to adopt in my intercourse with this man, I was fully capable of
estimating his veracity; and in the course of my journey and my
researches I convinced myself that in no one instance did he deviate
from the truth.
Going on in this way, I had completed, by the 8th of the month, an exact
and full vocabulary of the Emgédesi language, and could with more
leisure indulge in a conversation with my friend Ámagay, the chief
eunuch and confidential servant of the sultan of Ágades, who paid me a
visit, and brought me the most recent news from the capital. Affairs
were all in the best state, his business now being merely to arrange a
few matters with Ánnur before the latter set out for Sudán. He informed
me that the salt-caravan of the Kél-gerés and Itísan had long ago
returned from Bílma, taking with them our letter to the sultan of
Sókoto, and accompanied by Mohammed Bóro, who had taken all his children
with him except those who were still attending school. Ámagay had also
brought with him the curious letter from Mustapha the governor of
Fezzán, which is spoken of by Mr. Richardson. I treated him with some
coffee (which was now with me a very precious article, as I had but
little left), and made him a small present.
[Footnote 196: I am sorry that a long letter on the topography of the
country (written chiefly from Músa’s information), which I sent to
Europe, appears never to have arrived. It is for this reason that I am
unable to lay down with some degree of accuracy that part of the country
of Ásben which I did not visit myself.]
CHAP. XX.
FINAL DEPARTURE FOR SUDÁN.
[Sidenote: Thursday, December 12th, 1850. Safer 7th, 1266.]
At length the day broke when we were to move on and get nearer the
longed-for object of our journey, though we were aware that our first
progress would be slow. But before we departed from this region, which
had become so familiar to us, I wished to take a last glimpse down the
valley towards Tintéllust, and wandered towards the offshoots of Mount
Búnday, which afforded me a fine prospect over the whole valley up to
that beautiful mountain-mass which forms so characteristic a feature in
the configuration of the whole country. The hills which I ascended
consisted of basalt, and formed a low ridge, which was separated from
the principal mountain-mass by a hollow of sandstone formation. Having
bade farewell to the blue mountains of Tintéllust, I took leave of the
charming little valley Ofáyet, which, having been a few moments
previously a busy scene of life, was now left to silence and solitude.
Late in the morning we began to move, but very slowly, halting every now
and then. At length the old chief himself came up, walking like a young
man before his méheri, which he led by the nose-cord; and the varied
groups composing the caravan began to march more steadily. It was a
whole nation in motion, the men on camels or on foot, the women on
bullocks or on asses, with all the necessaries of the little household,
as well as the houses themselves,—a herd of cattle, another of milk-
goats, and numbers of young camels running playfully alongside, and
sometimes getting between the regular lines of the laden animals. The
ground was very rocky and rugged, and looked bare and desolate in the
extreme, the plain being strewn for a while with loose basaltic stones,
like the plain of Tághist.
Several high peaks characterize this volcanic region; and after having
left to our right the peak called Ebárrasa, we encamped, a little before
noon, at the north-eastern foot of a very conspicuous peak called
Teléshera, which had long attracted my attention. We had scarcely chosen
our ground when I set out on foot in order to ascend this high mountain,
from which I expected to obtain a view over the eastern side of the
picturesque mass of the Eghellál; but its ascent proved very difficult,
chiefly because I had not exerted my strength much during our long stay
in this country. The flanks of the peak, after I had ascended the
offshoots, which consisted of sandstone, were most precipitous and
abrupt, and covered with loose stones, which gave way under my feet, and
often carried me a long way down. The summit consisted of perpendicular
trachytic pillars, of quadrangular and almost regular form, 2½ feet in
thickness, as if cut by the hand of man, some of them about one hundred
feet high, while others had been broken off at greater or less height.
It is at least 1500 feet above the bottom of the valley. The view was
interesting, although the sky was not clear; I was able to take several
angles; but the western flank of the Eghellál, which I was particularly
anxious to obtain a sight of, was covered by other heights.
Beyond the branch-wádi which surrounds this mountain on the south side,
there is a ridge ranging to a greater length, and rising from the ground
with a very precipitous wall; this was examined by Mr. Overweg, and
found to consist likewise of trachyte interspersed with black basaltic
stone, and crystals of glassy felspar. Having attained my purpose, I
began my retreat, but found the descent more troublesome than the
ascent, particularly as my boots were torn to pieces by the sharp
stones; and the fragments giving way under my feet, I fell repeatedly. I
was quite exhausted when I reached the tent; but a cup of strong coffee
soon restored me. However, I never afterwards on my whole journey felt
strong enough to ascend a mountain of moderate elevation.
[Sidenote: Friday, December 13th.]
Starting rather late, we continued through the mountainous region,
generally ascending, while a cold wind made our old friend the chief
shiver and regard with feelings of envy my thick black bernús, although
he had got bernúses enough from us not only to protect him against cold,
but us too against any envious feeling for the little which was left us.
Further on, in several places the granite (which at the bottom of the
valley alternates with sandstone) was perfectly disintegrated, and had
become like meal. Here the passage narrowed for about an hour, when we
obtained a view of a long range stretching out before us with a
considerable cone lying in front of it. Keeping now over rocky ground,
then along the bottom of a valley called Tánegat, about half a mile
broad, where we passed a well on our right, we at length reached a
mountain-spur starting off from the ridge on our right, and entered a
beautiful broad plain stretching out to the foot of a considerable
mountain-group, which was capped by a remarkable picturesquely-indented
cone called Mári. Here we saw the numerous camels of the salt-caravan
grazing in the distance to our left; and after having crossed a small
rocky flat, we encamped in the very channel of the torrent, being
certain that at this season no such danger as overwhelmed us in the
valley Éghazar was to be feared. Ámagay, who was still with us, paid me
a visit in the afternoon, and had a cup of coffee; he also came the next
morning. Near our encampment were some fine acacia-trees of the species
called gáwo, which I shall have to mention repeatedly in my travels.
[Sidenote: Saturday, December 14th.]
We started early, but encamped, after a short march of about six miles,
on uneven ground intersected by numbers of small ridges. The reason of
the halt was, that the whole of the caravan was to come up and to join
together; and our old chief here put on his official dress (a yellow
bernús of good quality), to show his dignity as leader of such a host of
people.
Salt forms the only article conveyed by this caravan. The form of the
largest cake is very remarkable; but it must be borne in mind that the
salt in Bílma is in a fluid state, and is formed into this shape by
pouring it into a wooden mould. This pedestal or loaf of salt (kántu) is
equal to five of the smaller cakes, which are called áserím; and each
áserím equals four of the smallest cakes, which are called “fótu.” The
bags, made of the leaves of the dúm-palm (or the “kábba”), in which
these loaves are packed up, are called “tákrufa.” But the finest salt is
generally in loose grains; and this is the only palatable salt, while
the ordinary salt of Bílma is very bitter to the European palate, and
spoils everything: but the former is more than three times the value of
the latter. The price paid in Bílma is but two zékkas for three kántus.
In the evening there was “urgí,” or “éddil” (playing), and “ráwa” or
“adéllul” (dancing), all over the large camp of the salt-caravan, and
the drummers or “masugánga” were all vying with each other, when I
observed that our drummer, Hassan, who was proud of his talent, and used
to call for a little present, was quite outdone by the drummer of that
portion of the caravan which was nearest to us, who performed his work
with great skill, and caused general enthusiasm among the dancing
people. The many lively and merry scenes, ranging over a wide district,
itself picturesque, and illuminated by large fires in the dusk of
evening, presented a cheerful picture of animated native life, looking
at which a traveller might easily forget the weak points discoverable in
other phases of life in the desert.
[Sidenote: Sunday, December 15th.]
The general start of the united “aïri,” or caravan, took place with
great spirit; and a wild enthusiastic cry, raised over the whole extent
of the encampment, answered to the beating of the drums. For, though the
Kél-owí are greatly civilized by the influence of the black population,
nevertheless they are still “half demons,” while the thoroughbred and
freeborn Amóshagh (whatever name he may bear, whether Tárki, ba-
Ásbenchi, Kindín, or Chapáto) is regarded by all the neighbouring
tribes, Arabs as well as Africans, as a real demon (“jin”).
Notwithstanding all this uproar, we were rather astonished at the small
number of camels laden with salt, which formed Ánnur’s caravan; for they
did not exceed two hundred, and their loads in the aggregate would
realize in Kanó at the very utmost three thousand dollars, which, if
taken as the principal revenue of the chief, seems very little. The
whole number of the caravan did not exceed two thousand camels.
However enthusiastically the people had answered to the call of the
drums, the loading of the camels took a long time; and the old chief
himself had remarkably few people to get ready his train: but the reason
probably was, that he was obliged to leave as many people behind as
possible for the security of the country. When at length we set out, the
view which presented itself was really highly exciting; for here a whole
nation was in motion, going on its great errand of supplying the wants
of other tribes, and bartering for what they stood in need of
themselves. All the drums were beating; and one string of camels after
the other marched up in martial order, led on by the “mádogu,” the most
experienced and steadfast among the servants or followers of each chief.
It was clear that our last night’s encampment had been chosen only on
account of its being well protected all around by ridges of rock; for on
setting out to-day we had to follow up, in the beginning, a course due
west, in order to return into our main direction along the valley. We
then gradually began to turn round the very remarkable Mount Mári, which
here assumed the figure shown in the sketch. Further on I saw the people
busy in digging up a species of edible bulbous roots called “adíllewan”
by the Kél-owí. This, I think, besides the “bába,” or “níle” (the
_Indigofera endecaphylla_), the first specimens of which we had observed
two days ago shooting up unostentatiously among the herbage, was the
most evident proof that we had left the region of the true desert,
though we had still to cross a very sterile tract.
[Illustration]
Having changed our direction from south to south-west, about noon we
entered the highroad coming directly from Ásodi, but which was, in fact,
nothing better than a narrow pathway. Here we were winding through a
labyrinth of large detached projecting blocks, while Mount Mári
presented itself in an entirely different shape. Gradually the bottom of
the valley became free from blocks, and we were crossing and recrossing
the bed of the watercourse, when we met a small caravan belonging to my
friend the Emgédesi Ídder, who had been to Damerghú to buy corn. Shortly
afterwards, we encamped at the side of the watercourse, which is called
Adóral, and which joins, further downwards, another channel called
Wéllek, which runs close along the western range. Here we saw the first
specimens of the pendent nests of the weaver bird (_Ploceus
Abyssiniacus_).
[Illustration]
While I was filling up my journal in the afternoon, I received a visit
from Mohammed Býrji, who had this morning left Tin-téggana; he informed
me that the women and the old men whom we had left there had not
returned to Tintéllust, but had gone to Tintághalén. All the population
of the other villages in the northern districts of Aïr were likewise
retreating southwards during the absence of the salt-caravan.
[Sidenote: Monday, December 16th.]
On starting this morning we were glad to find some variety in the
vegetation; for instead of the monotonous talha-trees, which with some
justice have been called “vegetable mummies,”[197] the whole valley-
plain was adorned with beautiful spreading addwa- or tabórak-trees (the
_Balanites Ægyptiaca_), the foliage of which often reached down to the
very ground, forming a dense canopy of the freshest green. After winding
along, and crossing and recrossing the small channel, the path ascended
the rocky ground, and we soon got sight of the mountains of Bághzen,
looking out from behind the first mountain-range, from whose southern
end a point called Ánfisék rises to a considerable elevation. This
higher level, however, was not bare and naked, but overgrown with the
“knotted” grass bú-rékkeba and with the addwa- and gawo-tree, while on
our left the broad but nevertheless sharply-marked peak of Mount Mári
towered over the whole, and gave to the landscape a peculiar character.
At an early hour we encamped between buttresses of scattered blocks
shooting out of the plain, which seems to stretch to the very foot of
the Bághzen, and to be noted pre-eminently as the Plain, “erárar.”
In the afternoon I walked to a considerable distance, first to a hill
S.W. from our camp, from which I was able to take several angles, and
then to the well. The latter was at the distance of a mile and a half
from our tent in a westerly direction, and was carefully walled up with
stones; it measured three fathoms and a half to the surface of the
water, while the depth of the water itself was at present little less
than three fathoms, so that it is evident that there is water here at
all seasons. Its name is Álbes. As, on account of our slow travelling,
we had been four days without water, the meeting with a well was rather
agreeable to us. Between the well and the foot of the mountain there was
a temporary encampment of shepherds, who sent a sheep and a good deal of
cheese to the old chief.
Here we remained the two following days, in order to repose from the
fatigue of our sham travelling! I went once more all over my Emgédesi
collection, and made a present to the servants of the mission, of
twenty-two zékkas of Bílma dates, which I bought from the people of the
caravan; they were all thankful for this little present. I was extremely
glad to find that even the Tunisian shushán, when he had to receive
orders only from me, behaved much better; and I wrote from his recital a
Góber story which, as being characteristic of the imagination of the
natives, and illustrating their ancient pagan worship of the dodó, might
perhaps prove of interest even to the general reader. The several
divisions of the “aïri” came slowly up; among them we observed the Kél-
azanéres, the people of Lúsu, the chief himself having gone on in
advance, as I observed above.
[Sidenote: Thursday, December 19th.]
Our heavy caravan at length set out again, the camels having now
recovered a little from the trying march over the naked desert which
divides the mountainous district of Ásben from the “hénderi-Tedá,” the
fertile hollow of the Tébu country. It attracted my attention, that the
shrubby and thick-leaved “allwot” (the blue _Crucifera_ mentioned
before) had ceased altogether; even the eternal bú-rékkeba began to be
scarce, while only a few solitary trees were scattered about.
While marching over this dreary plain, we noticed some Tébu merchants,
natives of Dírki, with only three camels, who had come with the salt-
caravan from Bílma, and were going to Kanó; from them we learnt that a
Tébu caravan had started from Kawár for Bórnu at the time of the ʿAïd el
kebír. The example of these solitary travellers, indeed, might perhaps
be followed with advantage by Europeans also, in order to avoid the
country of the Azkár and the insecure border-districts of the Kél-owí,
especially if they chose to stay in the Tébu oasis till they had
obtained the protection of one of the great men of this country.
For a little while the plain was adorned with talha-trees; but then it
became very rugged, like a rough floor of black basalt, through which
wound a narrow path, pressing the whole caravan into one long string. At
length, at half-past two o’clock in the afternoon, after having
traversed extremely rugged ground, we began to descend from this broad
basaltic level, and having crossed the dry watercourse of a winter
torrent, entered the valley Télliya, which has a good supply of trees,
but very little herbage. A cemetery here gave indication of the
occasional or temporary residence of nomadic settlers.
On ascending again from the bottom of the valley to a higher level, and
looking backwards, we obtained a fine view of Mount Ajúri, at the foot
of which lies Chémia, a valley and village celebrated for its date-
trees. It was not our fate to see any of those places in Ásben which are
distinguished by the presence of this tree—neither the valley just
mentioned, nor Iferwán, nor Ír-n-Allem; and a visit to them will form
one of the interesting objects of some future traveller in this country.
Having kept along the plain for an hour, we encamped at a little
distance west from the dry bed of a watercourse running from north to
south along the eastern foot of a low basaltic ridge, with a fine
display of trees, but a scanty one of herbage. I went to ascend the
ridge, supposing it to be connected with the Bághzen, but found that it
was completely separated from the latter by a depression or hollow quite
bare and naked.
[Illustration]
This was the best point from whence to obtain a view over the eastern
flank of Mount Bághzen, with its deep crevices or ravines, which seemed
to separate the mountain-mass into several distinct groups; and in the
evening I made the sketch of it given above.
However, we had full leisure to contemplate this mountain, which is not
distinguished by great elevation, the highest peaks being little more
than 2000 feet above the plain[198]; but it is interesting, as
consisting probably of basaltic formation. We staid here longer than we
desired, as we did not find an opportunity to penetrate into the glens
in its interior, which, from this place, seem excessively barren, but
are said to contain some favoured and inhabited spots, where even corn
is reared. But our companions spoke with timorous exclamations of the
numbers of lions which infest these retired mountain-passes; and not one
of them would offer himself as a companion. The reason of our longer
stay in this place was, that our camels had strayed to a very great
distance southwards, so that they could not be found in the forenoon of
the following day. The blame of letting them stray was thrown upon
Hassan, whose inferiority as a drummer I had occasion to notice above.
How he was punished Mr. Richardson has described; and I will only add
that the handkerchief which he paid, was to be given to the “serkí-n-
kárfi”[199] (“the task-master,” properly “the master of the iron” or “of
the force”); but the whole affair was rather a piece of pleasantry.
In the morning Mghás, the chief of Téllwa, a fine, sturdy man mounted
upon a strong grey horse, passed by, going southward, followed by a long
string of camels; and shortly afterwards a small caravan of people of
Selúfiet, who had bought corn in Damerghú, passed in the opposite
direction.
[Sidenote: Saturday, December 21st.]
The weather was clear and cheerful; and the sun was warmer than
hitherto. We went on, and approached a district more favoured by nature,
when, having passed an irregular formation in a state of great
decomposition, we reached about ten o’clock the valley Unán, or rather a
branch-wádi of the chief valley of that name, where dúm-palms began to
appear, at first solitary and scattered about, but gradually forming a
handsome grove, particularly after the junction with the chief valley,
where a thick cluster of verdure, formed by a variety of trees, greeted
the eye. There is also a village of the name of Unán, lying on the
border of the principal valley a little higher up; and wells occur in
different spots. But the valley was not merely rich in vegetation—it was
the richest indeed as yet seen on this road—it was also enlivened by
man; and after we had met two Íghdalén whom I had known in Ágades, we
passed a large troop of Ikádmawen, who were busy watering their camels,
cattle, and goats at one of the wells. We also saw here the first
specimens of stone houses, which characterize the district to which the
valley Unán forms the entrance-hall, if I may use the expression. On its
western side is an irregular plain, where a division of the salt-caravan
lay encamped.
Proceeding then, after midday we passed by a low white cone on our left,
after which the valley, with its variety of vegetation, and animated as
it was by numerous herds of goats, made a cheerful impression. Here the
remains of stone dwellings became numerous; and further on we passed an
entire village consisting of such houses, which, as I was distinctly
informed, constituted in former times one of the principal settlements
of the Kél-gerés, who were then masters of all the territory as far as
the road to Ágades. The whole valley here formed a thick grove of dúm-
palms; and stone houses, entire or in ruins, were scattered all about.
About three o’clock in the afternoon we left it for an hour, traversing
a rocky flat with a low ridge of basalt ranging on our right, when we
descended again into the dúm-valley, which had been winding round on the
same side, and encamped, at half-past four o’clock in the afternoon, in
the midst of very wild and rank vegetation nourished by an immense
torrent which occasionally rolls its floods along the channel, and which
had left, on the stems of the baggarúwa-trees with which it was lined,
evident traces of the depth which it may sometimes attain. The bed of
the torrent was thickly overgrown with wild melons.
Although there is no well in the neighbourhood, we were to stay here the
two following days, in order to give the camels a good feed. A well,
called Tánis-n-tánode, lies lower down the valley, but at a considerable
distance. The valley itself runs south-westward: by some it is said to
join the Erázar-n-Bargót; but this seems scarcely possible. Numerous
flocks of wild pigeons passed over our heads the following morning,
looking for water. The monotony of the halt was interrupted, in the
course of the day, by the arrival of Hámma, who had been to Áfasás, and
by that of Astáfidet, the young titular Kél-owí chief residing in Ásodi,
among whose companions or followers was a very intelligent and
communicative man of the name of El Hasár, who gave me a great deal of
interesting information. All the eminences in the neighbourhood consist
of basaltic formation.
[Sidenote: Tuesday, December 24th.]
We again moved on a little, following the rich valley, which in some
places reminded me of the scenery of the Upper Nile, the only difference
being that here the broad sandy bottom of the watercourse takes the
place of the fine river in the scenery of Nubia. We made a short halt on
the road, in order to supply ourselves with water from the well which I
mentioned before. About noon, the fresh fleshy allwot, which had not
been observed by us for several days, again appeared, to the great
delight of the camels, which like it more than anything else, and,
having been deprived of it for some time, attacked it with the utmost
greediness. Two miles and a half further on, where the valley widened to
a sort of irregular plain with several little channels, we encamped;
there was a profusion of herbage all around.
It was Christmas eve; but we had nothing to celebrate it with, and we
were cast down by the sad news of the appearance of the cholera in
Tripoli. This we had learned during our march, from a small caravan
which had left that place three months previously without bringing us a
single line, or even as much as a greeting. The eternal bitter “túwo”
was to be devoured to-day also, as we had no means of adding a little
festivity to our repast.
We remained here the two following days, and were entertained on the
morning of Christmas day by a performance of Astáfidet’s musicians. This
was a somewhat cheerful holiday entertainment, although our visitors had
not that object in view, but merely plied their talents to obtain a
present. There were only two of them, a drummer and a flutist; and
though they did not much excel the other virtuosi of the country, whose
abilities we had already tested, nevertheless, having regard to the
occasion, we were greatly pleased with them. Here I took leave of my
best Kél-owí friend, Hámma, a trustworthy man in every respect—except,
perhaps, as regards the softer sex—and a cheerful companion, to whom the
whole mission, and I in particular, were under great obligations. He, as
well as Mohammed Býrji, the youthful grandson of Ánnur, who accompanied
him on this occasion, were to return hence with Astáfidet, in order to
assist this young titular prince in his arduous task of maintaining
order in the country during the absence of the old chief and the greater
part of the male population of the north-eastern districts. They were
both cheerful, though they felt some sorrow at parting; but they
consoled themselves with the hope of seeing me again one day. But, poor
fellows, they were both doomed to fall in the sanguinary struggle which
broke out between the Kél-gerés and the Kél-owí in 1854.
[Footnote 197: It is remarkable and significant, that the Tawárek employ
one and the same name for talha and firewood in general, namely the word
“ésarér;” but it is still more significant that the Kanúri or Bórnu seem
to employ the same name, “kindín,” for the Tárki and the talha.]
[Footnote 198: It is scarcely necessary to say that the village Bághzen,
reported to be situated on the very highest peak of these mountains,
does not exist. There is no village of this name.]
[Footnote 199: Kárfi has both meanings, by a metaphor easily to be
understood; da-kárfi is “by force.”]
CHAP. XXI.
THE BORDER-REGION OF THE DESERT. — THE TAGÁMA.
[Sidenote: Friday, December 27th.]
At length we were to exchange our too easy wandering for the rate of
real travelling. Early in the morning a consultation was held with the
elder men of the Kél-táfidet, who had come from their villages. We then
set out, taking leave of the regions behind us, and looking forward with
confidence and hope to the unknown or half-known regions before us.
The valley continued to be well clothed with a profusion of herbage, but
it was closely hemmed in on both sides; after a march, however, of four
miles and a half, it widened again to more than a mile, and began
gradually to lose its character of a valley altogether; but even here
the allwot was still seen, although of a stunted and dry appearance. We
then left the green hollow, which is the valley Bargót, and I thought we
should now enter upon the Hammáda or “ténere;” but after a while the
valley again approached close on our left. To my disappointment, we
encamped even before noon, at the easy northern slope of the rocky
ground, where there is a watering-place called Aghálle. The afternoon,
however, passed away very pleasantly, as I had a conversation with the
old chief, who honoured me with a visit, and touched on many points of
the highest interest.
[Sidenote: Saturday, December 28th.]
Starting at a tolerably early hour, we ascended the slope; but no sooner
had we reached the level of the plain than we halted, beating the drum
until all the different strings of camels had come up; we then
proceeded. At first the plain consisted almost exclusively of gravel
overgrown with herbage and allwot, with only now and then a rock seen
projecting; but gradually it became more pebbly, and was then
intersected by a great many low crests of rock consisting chiefly of
gneiss. We gradually ascended towards a low ridge called Abadárjen,
remarkable as forming in this district the northern border of the
elevated sandy plain, which seems to stretch across a great part of the
continent, and forms the real transition-land between the rocky
wilderness of the desert and the fertile arable zone of Central Africa.
This sandy ledge is the real home of the giraffe and of the _Antilope
leucoryx_.
Just about noon we entered upon this district, leaving the rocky range
at less than a mile on our left, and seeing before us a sandy level
broken only now and then by blocks of granite thickly overgrown with the
“knotted” grass called bú-rékkeba, and dotted with scattered talha-
trees. Two miles further on we encamped. A very long ear of géro
(_Pennisetum typhoïdeum_), which was broken from a plant growing wild
near the border of the path, was the most interesting object met with
to-day, while an ostrich-egg, though accidentally the very first which
we had yet seen on this journey, afforded us more material interest, as
it enabled us to indulge our palates with a little tasteful _hors
d’œuvre_, which caused us more delight, perhaps, than scientific
travellers are strictly justified in deriving from such causes. Our
caravan to-day had been joined by Gajére, a faithful servant of Ánnur,
who was coming from Ágades, and who, though a stranger at the time, very
shortly became closely attached to me, and at present figures among the
most agreeable reminiscences of my journey.
[Sidenote: Sunday, December 29th.]
When we started we were surprised at the quantity of hád with which the
plain began to be covered. This excellent plant is regarded by the Arab
as the most nutritious of all the herbs of the desert, for the camel;
and in the western part of that arid zone it seems to constitute its
chief food. Numerous footprints of giraffes were seen, besides those of
gazelles and ostriches, and towards the end of the march those of the
Welwaiji, the large and beautiful antelope called _leucoryx_, from the
skin of which the Tawárek make their large bucklers. Further on, the
plain presented some ups and downs, being at times naked, at others well
wooded and overgrown with grass. At length, after a good day’s march we
encamped.
To-day we made the acquaintance of another native of Middle Sudán, the
name of which plays a very important part in the nomenclature of
articles of the daily market in all the towns and villages. This was the
magariá (called by the Kanúri “kúsulu”), a middle-sized tree with small
leaves of olive-green colour, and producing a fruit nearly equal in size
to a small cherry, but in other respects more resembling the fruit of
the cornel (_Cornus_), and of light-brown colour. This fruit, when
dried, is pounded and formed into little cakes, which are sold all over
Háusa as “túwo-n-magariá,” and may be safely eaten in small quantities
even by a European, to allay his hunger for a while, till he can obtain
something more substantial; for it certainly is not a very solid food,
and if eaten in great quantities, has a very mawkish taste.
While the cattle and the asses went on already in the dark, the camels
were left out during the night to pick up what food they could; but
early in the morning, when they were to be brought back, a great many of
Ánnur’s camels could not be found. Hereupon the old chief himself set
his people an example; and galloping to the spot where their traces had
been lost, he recovered the camels, which were brought in at an early
hour. Meanwhile, however, being informed how difficult it would be to
obtain water at the well before us, in the scramble of people which was
sure to take place, I arranged with Overweg that while I remained behind
with Mohammed and the things, he should go on in advance with the
Gatróni and Ibrahím to fill the waterskins; and we afterwards had reason
to congratulate ourselves on this arrangement, for the well, though
spacious and built up with wood, contained at the time but a very
moderate supply of muddy water for so large a number of men and beasts.
Its name is Terguláwen.
This locality, desolate and bare in the extreme, is considered most
dangerous, on account of the continual ghazzias of the Awelímmiden and
Kél-gerés, who are sure to surprise and carry off the straggling
travellers who, if they would not perish by thirst, must resort to this
well. Our whole road from our encampment, for more than seven hours and
a half, led over bare, barren sand-hills. The camping-ground was chosen
at no great distance beyond the well, in a shallow valley or depression
ranging east and west, and bordered by sand-hills on its south side,
with a little sprinkling of herbage. The wind, which came down with a
cold blast from N.N.E. was so strong, that we had great difficulty in
pitching the tent.
[Sidenote: December 31st.]
Last day of 1850. A cold day, and a mountainous country. After we had
crossed the sand-hills, there was nothing before us but one flat expanse
of sand, mostly bare, and clothed with trees only in favoured spots. The
most remarkable phenomenon was the appearance of the feathery bristle,
the _Pennisetum distichum_, which on the road to Ágades begins much
further northwards. Indeed, when we encamped, we had some difficulty in
finding a spot free from this nuisance, though of course the strong wind
carried the seeds to a great distance. All our enjoyment of the last
evening of the old year centred in an extra dish of two ostrich-eggs.
[Sidenote: January 1st, 1851.]
This morning the condition in which the people composing the caravan
crawled out of their berths was most miserable and piteous; and moreover
nobody thought of starting early, as several camels had been lost. At
length, when the intense cold began to abate, and when the animals had
been found, everybody endeavoured to free himself and his clothing from
the bristles, which joined each part of his dress to the others like so
many needles; but what one succeeded in getting rid of was immediately
carried by the strong wind to another, so that all were in every respect
peevish when they set out at half-past nine o’clock. Nevertheless the
day was to be a very important one to me, and one on which princely
favour was to be shown to me in a most marked manner.
I have remarked above that on the day I started for Ágades the old chief
made a present of a bullock to the other members of the mission; but in
this present I myself did not participate, and I had not yet received
anything from him. Perhaps he was sensible of this, and wanted to give
me likewise a proof of his royal generosity; but I am afraid he was at
the same time actuated by feelings of a very different nature. He had
several times praised my Turkish jacket, and I had consoled him with a
razor or some other trifle; he had avowedly coveted my warm black
bernús, and had effected, by his frank intimations, nothing more than to
make me draw my warm clothing closer round my body. In order to bear the
fatigue of the journey more easily, he had long ago exchanged the little
narrow kígi or méheri-saddle for the broad pack-saddle, with a load of
salt, as a secure seat.
He was one of the foremost in his string, while I, mounted upon my Bu-
Séfi (who, since the loss of my méheri, had once more become my
favourite saddle-horse), was riding outside the caravan, separated from
him by several strings of camels. He called me by name; and on my
answering his call, he invited me to come to him: to do this I had to
ride round all the strings. At length I reached him. He began to
complain of the intense cold, from which he was suffering so acutely,
while I seemed to be so comfortable in my warm clothes; then he asked if
the ostrich-eggs of yesterday evening had pleased us, whereupon I told
him that his people had cheered us greatly by contributing, with their
gift, to enable us to celebrate our chief festival. He then put his hand
into his knapsack, and drawing forth a little cheese, and lifting it
high up, so that all his people might see it, he presented the princely
gift to me, with a gracious and condescending air, as a “mágani-n-dári”
(a remedy against the cold), words which I, indeed, was not sure whether
they were not meant ironically, as an intimation that I had withheld
from him the real mágani-n-dári, my black bernús.
We were gladdened when, about noon, the plain became clothed with
brushwood, and, after a while also with bú-rékkeba. Large troops of
ostriches were seen,—once a whole family, the parents, with several
young ones of various ages, all running in single file one after the
other. We encamped at half-past three in the afternoon, on a spot
tolerably free from karéngia, where we observed a great many holes of
the fox, the fének, or ñauñáwa (_Megalotis famelicus_), particularly in
the neighbourhood of ant-hills. There were also the larger holes of the
earth-hog (_Orycteropus Æthiopicus_), an animal which never leaves its
hole in the daytime, and is rarely seen even by the natives. The holes,
which are from fourteen to sixteen inches in diameter, and descend
gradually, are generally made with great accuracy.
The following day, the country during the first part of our march
continued rather bare; but after half-past two in the afternoon it
became richer in trees and bushes, forming the southern zone of this
sandy inland-plateau, which admits of pastoral settlements. The
elevation of this plain or transition-zone seems to be in general about
two thousand feet above the level of the sea. We encamped at length in
the midst of prickly underwood, and had a good deal of trouble before we
could clear a spot for pitching the tent.
[Sidenote: Thursday, January 3rd.]
Soon after setting out on our march, we met a caravan consisting of
twenty oxen laden with corn, and further on passed a herd of cattle
belonging to the Tagáma,—a most cheerful sight to us. We then encamped
before ten o’clock a little beyond a village of the same tribe, which,
from a neighbouring well, bears the name In-asámet. The village
consisted of huts exactly of the kind described by Leo; for they were
built of mats (_stuore_) erected upon stalks (_frasche_), and covered
with hides over a layer of branches, and were very low. Numbers of
children and cattle gave to the encampment a lively aspect. The well is
rather deep, not less than seventeen fathoms.
We had scarcely encamped, when we were visited by the male inhabitants
of the village, mounted upon a small ill-looking breed of horses. They
proved to be somewhat troublesome, instigated as they were by curiosity,
as well as by their begging propensities; but in order to learn as much
as possible, I thought it better to sacrifice the comfort of my tent,
and converse with them. They were generally tall men, and much fairer
than the Kél-owí; but in their customs they showed that they had fallen
off much from ancient usages, through intercourse with strangers. The
women not only made the first advances, but, what is worse, they were
offered even by the men,—their brethren, or husbands. Even those among
the men whose behaviour was least vile and revolting, did not cease
urging us to engage with the women, who failed not to present themselves
soon afterwards. It could scarcely be taken as a joke. Some of the women
were immensely fat, particularly in the hinder regions, for which the
Tawárek have a peculiar and expressive name—tebúllodén. Their features
were very regular and their skin fair. The two most distinguished
amongst them gave me their names as Shabó and Támatu, which latter word,
though signifying “woman” in general, may nevertheless be also used as a
proper name. The wealthier among them were dressed in black túrkedí and
the zénne; the poorer in white cotton. The dress of most of the men was
also white; but the chief peculiarity of the latter was, that several of
them wore their hair hanging down in long tresses. This is a token of
their being Aníslimen or Merábetín (holy men), which character they
assume notwithstanding their dissolute manners. They have no school, but
pride themselves on having a mʿallem appointed at their mesállaje, which
must be miserable enough. Having once allowed the people to come into my
tent, I could not clear it again the whole day. The names of the more
respectable among the men were Kílle, El Khassén, Efárret, Cháy, Ríssa,
Khándel, and Amaghár (properly “the Elder”). All these people, men and
women, brought with them a variety of objects for sale; and I bought
from them some dried meat of the welwaiji (_Antilope leucoryx_), which
proved to be very fine, as good as beef; others, however, asserted that
it was the flesh of the “rákomi-n-dáwa” or giraffe.
Hunting, together with cattle-breeding, is the chief occupation of the
Tagáma; and they are expert enough with their little swift horses, to
catch the large antelope as well as the giraffe. Others engage in the
salt-trade, and accompany the Kél-gerés on their way to Bílma, without
however following them to Sókoto, where, for the reason which I shall
presently explain, they are not now allowed to enter; but they bring
their salt to Kanó. In this respect the Tagáma acknowledge also, in a
certain degree, the supremacy of the sultan of Ágades.
Their slaves were busy in collecting and pounding the seeds of the
karéngia, or úzak (_Pennisetum distichum_), which constitutes a great
part of their food. Whatever may be got here is procurable only with
money,—even the water is sold:—the water-skin for a zekka of millet; but
of course grain is here very much cheaper than in Aïr, and even than in
Ágades. Altogether the Tagáma[200] form at present a very small tribe,
able to muster, at the utmost, three hundred spears; but most of them
are mounted on horseback. Formerly, however, they were far more
numerous, till Íbram, the father of the present chief, undertook, with
the assistance of the Kél-gerés, the unfortunate expedition against
Sókoto (then governed by Bello), of which Clapperton has given a
somewhat exaggerated account.[201] The country around is said to be
greatly infested by lions, which often carry off camels.
[Sidenote: Friday, January 4th.]
Our setting out this morning, after the camels were all laden and the
men mounted, was retarded by the arrival of a queen of the desert, a
beauty of the first rank, at least as regarded her dimensions. The lady,
with really handsome features, was mounted upon a white bullock, which
snorted violently under his immense burden. Nevertheless this luxurious
specimen of womankind was sickly, and required the assistance of the
tabíb, or “ne-meglán[202],” a title which Overweg had earned for himself
by his doctoring, though his practice was rather of a remarkable kind;
for he used generally to treat his patients, not according to the
character of their sickness, but according to the days of the week on
which they came. Thus he had one day of calomel, another of Dover’s
powder, one of Epsom salts, one of magnesia, one of tartar emetic: the
two remaining days being devoted to some other medicines; and it of
course sometimes happened that the man who suffered from diarrhœa got
Epsom salts, and he who required opening medicine was blessed with a
dose of Dover’s powder. Of course my friend made numerous exceptions to
this calendary method of treating disease, whenever time and
circumstances allowed him to study more fully the state of a patient.
However, in the hurry in which we just then were, he could scarcely make
out what the imaginary or real infirmity of this lady was; and I cannot
say what she got. She was certainly a woman of great authority, as the
old chief himself was full of kind regards and deference to her. We were
rather astonished that he exchanged here his brown mare for a lean white
horse, the owners of which seemed, with good reason, excessively
delighted with their bargain.
At length we got off, proceeding towards the land of promise in an
almost direct southerly course. After three miles’ march the thick bush
“dílu” made its appearance in the denser underwood, and the country
became more hilly and full of ant-holes, while in the distance ahead of
us, a little to our left, a low range became visible, stretching east
and west. Suddenly the ground became a rocky flat, and the whole caravan
was thrown into disorder. We did not at first perceive its cause, till
we saw, to our great astonishment, that a steep descent by a regular
terrace was here formed, at least a hundred feet high, which conducted
to a lower level,—the first distinct proof that we had passed the
Hammáda. The vegetation here was different, and a new plant made its
appearance called “ágwau,” a middle-sized bush consisting of a dense
cluster of thick branches of very white wood, at present without leaves,
the young shoots just coming out; melons also were plentiful here, but
they had no taste. The rocky descent only extends to a short distance
towards the west, when it breaks off, while on our left it stretched far
to the south-east. When we had kept along this plain for a little more
than two miles, we passed, a short distance on our right, a large pond
or “tébki” of water, called “Fárak,” spreading out in a hollow. I had
here a long conversation with my frolicsome friend Mohammed Ánnur’s
cousin, who was also going to Sudán; I told him that his uncle seemed to
know his people well, and showed his wisdom in not leaving such a wanton
youngster as himself behind him. He was, as usual, full of good humour,
and informed me that Ánnur’s troop was almost the first, being preceded
only by the caravan of Sálah, the chief of Egéllat. He prided himself
again on his exploits in the late ghazzia, when they had overtaken the
Éfadaye marauders in Tálak and Búgarén. Further on we passed the well
called Fárak, which was now dry, and encamped two miles beyond it in a
district thickly overgrown with karéngias.
[Sidenote: Saturday, January 5th.]
We had scarcely started, when I observed an entirely new species of
plant, which is rather rare in Central Negroland, and which I afterwards
met in considerable quantities along the north shore of the so-called
Niger, between Timbúktu and Tosáye. It is here, in Háusa, called
“kumkúmmia,” a euphorbia growing from one and a half to two feet in
height, and is very poisonous; indeed hereabouts, as in other districts
of Central Africa, it furnishes the chief material with which arrows are
poisoned. The principal vegetation consisted of “árza” (a species of
laurel) and dílu; and further on parasitical plants were seen, but not
in a very vigorous state. Altogether the country announced its fertility
by its appearance; and a little before noon, when low ranges of hills
encompassed the view on both sides, and gave it a more pleasant
character, we passed, close on our left, another pastoral settlement of
half mat and half leather tents[203], enlivened by numerous cattle and
flocks, and leaning against a beautiful cluster of most luxuriant trees.
But more cheerful still was the aspect of a little lake or tank of
considerable extent, and bordered all around with the thickest grove of
luxuriant acacias of the kind called “baggarúwa,” which formed overhead
a dense and most beautiful canopy. This little lake is called “Gúmrek,”
and was full of cattle, which came hither to cool themselves in the
shade during the hot hours of the day. In this pleasant scenery we
marched along, while a good number of horsemen collected around us, and
gave us a little trouble; but I liked them far better, with their rough
and warlike appearance, than their more civilized and degraded brethren
of the day before. At about half-past two we encamped on the border of a
dry watercourse with a white sandy bed, such as we had not seen for a
long time. But here we made the acquaintance of a new plant and a new
nuisance; this is the “aidó,” a grass with a prickly involucrum of black
colour, and of larger size and stronger prickles than the karéngia (or
_Pennisetum distichum_), and more dangerous for naked feet than for the
clothes. A new string of camels joined us here, led on by Mohammed
Ánnur.
[Sidenote: Sunday, January 6th.]
We were greatly surprised at the appearance of the weather this morning;
the sky was covered with thick clouds, and even a light rain fell while
the caravan was loading. We felt some fear on account of the salt; but
the rain soon ceased. In the course of my travels, principally during my
stay in Timbúktu, I had more opportunities of observing these little
incidental rain-falls of the cold season, or “the black nights,” during
January and February; and further on, as occasion offers, I shall state
the result of my observations.
At a little more than a mile from our camping-ground, the aspect of the
country became greatly changed, and we ascended a hilly country of a
very remarkable character, the tops of the hills looking bare, and
partly of a deep, partly of a greyish black, like so many mounds of
volcanic _débris_, while the openings or hollows were clothed with
underwood. Here our companions began already to collect wood as a
provision for the woodless corn-fields of Damerghú; but we were as yet
some distance off. Ascending gradually, we reached the highest point at
nine o’clock, while close on our right we had a hill rising to greater
elevation; and here we obtained an interesting view—just as the sun
burst through the clouds—over the hilly country before us, through which
a bushy depression ran in a very winding course. Along this tortuous
thread of underwood lay our path. As we were proceeding, Ibrahím, our
Furáwi freeman, who was a very good marksman for a black, brought down a
large lizard (Draconina) “demmó,” or, as the Arabs call it, “wárel,”
which was sunning itself on a tree; it is regarded by the people as a
great delicacy. A little before noon the country seemed to become more
open, but only to be covered with rank reeds ten feet high—quite a new
sight for us, and a great inconvenience to the camels, which stumbled
along over the little hillocks from which the bunches of reeds shot
forth. Further on, the ground (being evidently very marshy during the
rainy season) was so greatly torn and rent by deep fissures, that the
caravan was obliged to separate into two distinct parties. The very
pleasant and truly park-like hilly country continued nearly unchanged
till one o’clock in the afternoon, when, at a considerable distance on
our left, we got sight of the first corn-fields of Damerghú, belonging
to the villages of Kulakérki and Banuwélki.
This was certainly an important stage in our journey. For although we
had before seen a few small patches of garden-fields, where corn was
produced (as in Selúfiet, Áuderas, and other favoured places), yet they
were on so small a scale as to be incapable of sustaining even a small
fraction of the population; but here we had at length reached those
fertile regions of Central Africa, which are not only able to sustain
their own population, but even to export to foreign countries. My heart
gladdened at this sight, and I felt thankful to Providence that our
endeavours had been so far crowned with success; for here a more
promising field for our labours was opened, which might become of the
utmost importance in the future history of mankind.
We soon after saw another village, which several of our companions named
Olalówa, and which may indeed be so called, although I thought at the
time they applied to it the name of the more famous place further on,
with which they were acquainted; and I afterwards convinced myself that
such was really the case. The country became open and level, the whole
ground being split and rent by fissures. While I was indulging in
pleasing reveries of new discoveries and successful return, I was
suddenly startled by three horsemen riding up to me and saluting me with
a “Lá ílah ilá Allah.” It was Dan Íbra (or Íbram, the “son of Ibrahím”),
the famous and dreaded chief of the Tamizgída[204], whom the ruler of
Tintéllust himself in former times had not been able to subdue, but had
been obliged to pay him a sort of small tribute or transit-money, in
order to secure the unmolested passage of his caravans on their way to
Sudán. The warlike chief had put on all his finery, wearing a handsome
blue bernús, with gold embroidery, over a rich Sudán tobe, and was
tolerably well mounted. I answered his salute, swearing by Allah that I
knew Allah better than he himself, when he became more friendly, and
exchanged with me a few phrases, asking me what we wanted to see in this
country. He then went to take his turn with Mr. Richardson. I plainly
saw that if we had not been accompanied by Ánnur himself, and almost all
our luggage sent on in advance, we should have had here much more
serious colloquies.
After having ascended a little from the lower ground, where evidently,
during the rains, a large sheet of water collects, and having left on
our right a little village surrounded by stubble-fields, we passed along
the western foot of the gently-sloping ground on whose summit lies the
village (“úngwa”) Sámmit. It was past four o’clock in the afternoon when
we encamped upon an open stubble-field, and we were greatly cheered at
observing here the first specimen of industry in a good sense,—for of
industry in a bad sense the Tagáma had already given us some proof. As
soon as we were dismounted, two muscular blacks, girded with leather
aprons round their loins, came bounding forward, and in an instant
cleared the whole open space around us, while in a few minutes several
people, male and female, followed, offering a variety of things for
sale, such as millet, beans (of two sorts), and those cakes called
dodówa, which were duly appreciated by the late Captain Clapperton for
the excellent soup made of them. Of their preparation I shall speak when
we meet the first tree of that species, the dorówa—the name of the cake
and that of the tree being distinguished by the change of a consonant.
The cakes obtained here, however, as I afterwards learned, were of a
most inferior and spurious character—of that kind called “dodówa-n-
bósso” in Háusa, and in some districts “yákwa.” We felt here the benefit
of civilization in a most palpable way, by getting most excellent
chicken-broth for our supper. Our servants, indeed, were cooking the
whole night.
[Sidenote: Monday, January 7th.]
There were again a few drops of rain in the morning. Soon after
starting, we were greeted by the aspect of a few green kitchen-gardens,
while we were still gradually ascending. On reaching the highest level,
we obtained a sight of the mountains of Damerghú (“dúwatsu n Damerghú,”
as they are called), a low range stretching parallel with the road
towards the east, while ahead of us, and westward, the country was
entirely open, resembling one unbroken stubble-field. Having crossed a
hollow with a dry pond and some trees, we had at about eight o’clock a
village close on our right, where, for the first time, I saw that
peculiar style of architecture which, with some more or less important
varieties, extends through the whole of Central Africa.
These huts, in as far as they are generally erected entirely with the
stalks of the Indian corn, almost without any other support except that
derived from the feeble branches of the _Asclepias gigantea_, certainly
do not possess the solidity of the huts of the villages of Ásben, which
are supported by a strong framework of branches and young trees; but
they greatly surpass them in cleanliness, on account of the large
available supply of the light material of which they are built. It is,
however, to be remarked that the inhabitants of this district depend in
a great measure for their fuel too upon the stalks of the Indian corn.
The huts in general are lower than those in Ásben, and are distinguished
from them entirely by the curved top of the thatched roof, which
sustains the whole. In examining these structures, one cannot but feel
surprised at the great similarity which they bear to the huts of the
aboriginal inhabitants of Latium, such as they are described by
Vitruvius and other authors, and represented occasionally on terra cotta
utensils, while the name in the Bórnu or Kanúri language, “kósi,” bears
a remarkable resemblance to the Latin name “casa,” however accidental it
may be. It is still more remarkable that a similar name, “kúde,” is
given to a cottage in the Tamil and other Asiatic languages.
More remarkable and peculiar than the huts, and equally new and
interesting to us, as the most evident symptom of the great
productiveness of this country, were the little stacks of corn scattered
among the huts, and in reality consisting of nothing but an enormous
basket made of reeds, and placed upon a scaffold of thick pieces of wood
about two feet high, in order to protect the corn against the “kúsu” and
the “gará” (the mouse and the ant), and covered over on the top with a
thatched roof, like that of the huts.[205] Of these little corn-stacks
we shall find some most interesting architectural varieties in the
course of our travels. The “gará,” or white ant (_Termes fatalis_), is
here the greatest nuisance, being most destructive to the corn as well
as to all softer kinds of house-furniture, or rather to the houses
themselves. Every possible precaution must be taken against it. The
“kúsu,” or mouse, abounds here in great numbers, and of several species:
particularly frequent is the jerbóa (_dipus_), which for the traveller
certainly forms a very pleasant object to look at as it jumps about on
the fields, but not so to the native, who is anxious about his corn.
While reflecting on the feeble resistance which this kind of
architecture must necessarily offer in case of conflagration,
particularly as water is at so great a distance, I perceived almost
opposite to this little hamlet a larger one called Mája, on the other
side of the road, and shaded by some thorn-trees. From both villages the
people came forth to offer cheese and Indian corn for sale. They
differed widely from the fanatical people among whom we had been
travelling; most of them were pagans and slaves. Their dress was mean
and scanty; this of course is an expensive article in a country where no
cotton is produced, and where articles of dress can only be obtained in
exchange for the produce of the country. On a field near the path the
Guinea corn was still lying unthreshed, though the harvest had been
collected two months before. The threshing is done with long poles. The
whole of Damerghú produces no durra or sorghum, but only millet or
_Pennisetum typhoïdeum_, and all, as far as I know, of the white
species.
Further on, the stubble-fields were pleasantly interrupted by a little
pasture-ground, where we saw a tolerably large herd of cattle. Then
followed a tract of country entirely covered with the monotonous
_Asclepias gigantea_, which at present is useful only as affording
materials for the framework of the thatched roofs, or for fences. It is
worthless for fuel, although the pith is employed as tinder. The milky
juice (which at present is used by the pagan natives, as far as I know,
only to ferment their gíya, and which greatly annoys the traveller in
crossing the fields, as it produces spots on the clothes, and even
injures the hair of the horses) might become an important article of
trade. The cattle, at least in districts where they have not good
pasturage, feed on the leaves of the asclepias.
We were gradually ascending, and reached at about a quarter-past ten
o’clock the summit of a rising ground, the soil of which consisted of
red clay. Altogether it was an undulating country, appearing rather
monotonous, from its almost total want of trees, but nevertheless of the
highest interest to one just arrived from the arid regions of the north.
Having passed several detached farms, which left a very agreeable
impression of security and peacefulness, we came upon a group of wells,
some dry, but others well filled, where besides cattle a good many
horses were led to water—a cheerful and to us quite a novel sight; many
more were seen grazing around on the small patches of pasture-ground
which interrupted the stubble-fields, and some of them were in splendid
condition—strong and well-fed, and with fine sleek coats; all of them
were of brown colour. But there was another object which attracted our
attention: the trough at the well was formed of a tortoiseshell of more
than two feet in length; and on inquiry we learnt that this animal, of a
large size, is not at all rare in this district. It was already
mentioned, as common in these regions, by the famous Andalusian
geographer El Bekri.
Villages, stubble-fields, tracts covered with tunfáfia (the
_Asclepias_), detached farms, herds of cattle and troops of horses
tranquilly grazing, succeeded each other, while the country continued
undulating, and was now and then intersected by the dry bed of a
watercourse. Having passed two divisions of the aïr, or aïri, which had
preceded us, and had encamped near some villages, we obtained quite a
new sight—a large quadrangular place called Dam-mágaji (properly Dan
Mágaji, “the son of the lieutenant,” after whom it is called),
surrounded with a clay wall, spreading out at a short distance on our
left, while in the distance before us in the direction of Zinder, a high
cone called Zozáwa became visible. Leaving a village of considerable
size on our right, at a quarter to three o’clock we reached a small
hamlet, from which numbers of people were hurrying forward, saluting us
in a friendly and cheerful manner, and informing us that this was
Tágelel, the old chief’s property. We now saw that the village consisted
of two distinct groups separated from each other by a cluster of four or
five tsámias or tamarind-trees—the first poor specimens of this
magnificent tree, which is the greatest ornament of Negroland.
Our camping-ground was at first somewhat uncomfortable and troublesome,
it being absolutely necessary to take all possible precautions against
the dreadful little foe that infests the ground wherever there is arable
land in Sudán—the white ant; but we gradually succeeded in making
ourselves at home and comfortable for the next day’s halt.
The greatest part of the following day was spent in receiving visits.
The first of these was interesting, although its interest was diminished
by the length to which it was protracted. The visitor was a gallant
freeborn Ikázkezan, of a fine though not tall figure, regular, well-
marked features, and fair complexion, which at once bespoke his noble
birth; he was clad in a very good red bernús, of the value of 70,000
kurdí in Kanó, and altogether was extremely neatly and well dressed. He
came first on horseback with two companions on camels, but soon sent his
horse and companions away, and squatted down in my tent, apparently for
a somewhat long talk with me; and he remained with me for full three
hours. But he was personally interesting, and a very fine specimen of
his tribe; and the interest attaching to his person was greatly enhanced
by his having accompanied the expedition against the Welád Slimán, which
none of our other friends the Kél-owí had done. On this account I was
greatly pleased to find that his statements confirmed and corroborated
the general reports which we had heard before. He was all admiration at
the large fortification which, as soon as they heard that the Tawárek
intended an expedition against them, the Arabs had constructed at
Késkáwa, on the shore of lake Tsád (carrying trees of immense size from
a great distance), and where they had remained for two months awaiting
the arrival of their enraged foe. He expressed his opinion that nothing
but the Great God himself could have induced them to leave at length
such a secure retreat and impregnable stronghold, by crazing their wits,
and confounding their understandings. I also learnt that these daring
vagabonds had not contented themselves with taking away all the camels
of the Kél-owí that came to Bílma for salt, but, crossing that most
desolate tract which separates Kawár or Hénderi Tedá (the Tébu country)
from Aïr, pursued the former as far as Agwáu.
At the time I conversed with my Ikázkezan friend about this subject I
was not yet aware how soon I was to try my fortune with the shattered
remains of that Arab horde, although its fate had formed an object of
the highest interest to the expedition from the beginning. As for
ourselves, my visitor was perfectly well acquainted with the whole
history of our proceedings; and he was persuaded that, out of any
material, we were able to make what we liked, but especially fine
bernúses,—an opinion which gave rise to some amusing conversation
between us.
This interesting visitor was succeeded by a great many tiresome people,
so that I was heartily glad when Overweg, who had made a little
excursion to a great pond of stagnant water, at the foot of the hill of
Farára, the residence of Mákita, returned, and, lying outside the little
shed of tanned skins, which was spread over his luggage, drew the crowd
away from my tent. Overweg, as well as Ibrahím, who had accompanied him,
had shot several ducks, which afforded us a good supper, and made us
support with some degree of patience the trying spectacle of a long
procession of men and women laden with eatables, passing by us in the
evening towards the camping-ground of the chief, while not a single dish
found its way to us; and though we informed them that they were missing
their way, they would not understand the hint, and answered us with a
smile. Many severe remarks on the niggardliness of the old chief were
that evening made round our fire. While music, dancing, and merriment
were going on in the village, a solitary “maimólo” found his way to us,
to console the three forsaken travellers from a foreign land, by
extolling them to the skies, and representing them as special ministers
of the Almighty.
[Sidenote: Wednesday, January 8th.]
To-day I began a list of the principal towns and villages of Dam-erghú,
which I shall now give as it was corrected and completed by my
subsequent inquiries; but first I shall make a few general observations.
Aïr, or rather Ásben, as we have seen above, was originally inhabited by
the Góber race—that is to say, the most noble and original stock of what
is now, by the natives themselves, called the Háusa nation; but the
boundaries of Ásben appear not to have originally included the district
of Dam-erghú, as not even those of Aïr do at the present day, Dam-erghú
being considered as an outlying province, and the granary of Aïr. On the
contrary, the name of Dam-erghú (which is formed of the same root as the
names Daw-erghú, Gam-erghú, and others, all lying round Bórnu proper)
seems to show that the country to which it applied belonged to the
Kanúri race, who are in truth its chief occupants even at the present
day, the Bórnu population being far more numerous than the Háusa; and
though a great many of them are at present reduced to a servile
condition, they are not imported slaves, as Mr. Richardson thought, but
most of them are serfs or prædial slaves, the original inhabitants of
the country. It is true that a great many of the names of the villages
in Dam-erghú belong to the Háusa language; but these I conceive to be of
a former date. The district extends for about sixty miles in length, and
forty in breadth. It is altogether an undulating country of very fertile
soil, capable of maintaining the densest population, and was in former
times certainly far more thickly inhabited than at present. The bloody
wars carried on between the Bórnu king ʿAli ʿOmármi on the one side, and
the sultan of Ágades and the Tawárek of Aïr on the other, must have
greatly depopulated these border districts.
In giving a list of the principal villages of this region, I shall first
mention five places which owe their celebrity and importance, not to
their size or the number of their inhabitants, but rather to their
political rank, being the temporary residences of the chiefs.
I name first Kúla-n-kérki—not the village mentioned above as being seen
in the distance, but another place half-a-day’s journey (“wúëni,” as the
Háusa people say) east from Tágelel—of considerable size, and the
residence of the chief Músa, who may with some truth be called master of
the soil of Dam-erghú, and is entitled serkí-n-Dam-erghú in the same
sense in which Mazáwaji was formerly called serkí-n-Ásben; and to him
all the inhabitants of the district, with the sole exception of the
people of the three other chiefs, have to do homage and present
offerings.
Olalówa, about three miles or three miles and a half S.W. of Tágelel, is
rather smaller than Kúla-n-kérki. It is the residence of Mazáwaji, a man
of the same family as Ánnur, who, till a short time before our arrival
in Aïr, was “amanókal-n-Kél-owí,” residing in Ásodi, in the place of
Astáfidet. Though he has left Aïr voluntarily, he still retains the
title “serkí-n-Kél-owí,” and is a friendly and benevolent old man.
Olalówa has a market-place provided with rúnfona, or rúnfas (sheds),
where a market is held every Sunday; but it is not well attended by the
inhabitants of the other places, owing to the fear entertained of
Mazáwaji’s slaves, who seem (mild as their master is) to be disposed to
violence.
Farára, the residence of Mákita, or Ímkiten, the man who played the
chief part during the interregnum, or rather the reign of anarchy in
Ásben, before the installation of ʿAbd el Káder. It is situated about
two miles from Tágelel, on the west side of the road which we were to
take, on the top of a hill, at the foot of which is a very extensive
lagoon of water, from which the inhabitants of Tágelel also, and of many
surrounding villages, draw their supply.
Tágelel, the residence of Ánnur, although of small size (the two groups
together containing scarcely more than a hundred and twenty cottages),
is nevertheless of great political importance in all the relations of
this distracted country.
Here also I will mention Dankámsa, the residence of an influential man
of the name of Úmma, which in a certain respect enjoys the same rank as
the four above-named villages.[206]
I will also add in this place the little which I was able to learn about
the mixed settlements of Tawárek and black natives between Dam-erghú and
Múniyo. As these places are the chief centres whence proceed the
predatory excursions which are carried on continually against the
northern districts of Bórnu, information with regard to them is not
easily obtained. The chief among them is the principality of Alákkos or
Elákwas[207], about three (long) days N.E. from Zínder, and two from
Gúre, the present residence of Muniyóma. The ruling class in this
sequestered haunt of robbers and freebooters seems to belong to the
tribe of the Tagáma; and the name of the present chief is Abu-Bakr, who
can lead into the field perhaps two hundred horsemen. The chief place
bears the same name as the whole principality; and besides it there are
but a few small places, among which I learnt the name of Dáucha. Alákkos
is celebrated among the hungry inhabitants of the desert, on account of
its grain; and in the desert-song, the verse which celebrates the horse
of Tawát, is followed by another one celebrating the grain of Alákkos,
“tádak Elákwas.”
Quite apart seems to be a place called Gáyim, which is governed by a
chief called Kámmedán; and I know not whether another place called Kárbo
be comprised in the same principality or not. These are the great haunts
of the freebooters, who infest the border districts, from Dam-erghú to
the very heart of Kánem.
[Sidenote: Thursday, January 9th.]
This was the great market-day in Tágelel, on which account our departure
was put off till the following day; but the market did not become
thronged until a late hour. I went there in the afternoon. The market-
place, which was about 800 yards distant from our encampment, towards
the west, upon a small hilly eminence, was provided with several sheds
or rúnfas. The articles laid out for sale consisted of cotton (which was
imported), tobacco, ostrich-eggs, cheese, mats, ropes, nets, earthenware
pots, gúras (or drinking-vessels made of the _Cucurbita ovifera_ and _C.
lagenaria_) and kórios (or vessels made of a fine sort of reed, for
containing fluids, especially milk); besides these there were a
tolerable supply of vegetables, and two oxen, for sale. The buyers
numbered about a hundred.
In the afternoon two magozáwa, or pagans, in a wild and fanciful attire
(the dry leaves of Indian corn or sorghum hanging down from their
barbarous headdress and from the leather apron, which was girt round
their loins and richly ornamented with shells and bits of coloured
cloth), danced in front of our tents the “devil’s dance”—a performance
of great interest in regard to the ancient pagan customs of these
countries, and to which I may have occasion to revert, when I speak
about Dodó, or the evil spirit, and the representation of the souls of
the dead.
Tágelel was a very important point for the proceedings of the mission on
several accounts. For here we had reached the lands where travellers are
able to proceed singly on their way; and here Overweg and I were to part
from Mr. Richardson, on account of the low state of our finances, in
order to try what each of us might be able to accomplish single-handed
and without ostentation, till new supplies should arrive from home.
Here, therefore, the first section of my narrative will most
appropriately terminate.
[Footnote 200: The Tagáma were said by some of our informants to have
come from Jánet; but I was not able to confirm this piece of
information. However I am sure that they belong to a stock settled in
these regions long before the Kél-owí. We find them settled on the
borders of Negroland in very ancient times. Horneman, from what he heard
about them, believed them to be Christians.]
[Footnote 201: Clapperton and Denham’s Travels, vol. ii. p. 107.]
[Footnote 202: The Western Tawárek call the doctor “anéssafar.”]
[Footnote 203: I shall describe this sort of tent in the narrative of my
stay amongst the Western Tawárek.]
[Footnote 204: This name means “the mosque;” and the tribe, apparently,
has formerly been settled somewhere in a town. By the Arabs it is
regarded as greatly Arabicized, and is even called ʿÁraba. We shall meet
another tribe of the same name in the West.]
[Footnote 205: A representation of such a stack of corn is given in the
next volume.]
[Footnote 206: Besides these I learnt the names of the following places
of Dam-erghú:—Nimináka, Gómtu, Sabón-garí, Dágabi, Dagábitáng, Bírji-n-
bága; Kúfkúf (called Kobkob by Mr. Richardson in the itinerary which, on
his first journey to Ghát, he forwarded to Government[a]), in the W.,
with a lake of very great dimensions; Babá-n-bírni, a place which I
think in former times has been the chief town of the district; Kuyáwa,
Da-n-kúmbu, Da-n-gérki, Marké (a very common name in Central Sudán);
Zozáwa, at the foot of the high cone of the same name mentioned above;
Lekári, also S.; Dammágaji, the place mentioned above; Ngól-mata, N.;
Ngól-ganó, Ngól-kalé, Banwélki, Gagáwa, Karíkau, Keshír-keshír,
Dammókochi, Nakéfadáng, Damméle, Guyé-guyé, Kabíwa, Fókeni, Gámakay,
Burúru, Gángará, Tágelel-ta-Dágabi (different from Ánnur’s residence);
Maryámatángh, Kusúmmetángh (both these places are Tawárek settlements);
Maizáki, Málemrí, Malenkáderi (prop. Mʿallem Káderi), Chíririm, Esúwi,
Músherí, Músajá, Aikáuri, Addankólle, Jémagu-Gomaigéne, Lamá, Hámedan,
Karáza, Alkúre, Dantánka, Agwá, Makárarí, Kasallíya, Fárag, Gámaran,
Ungwa Sámmit, Yesíyu-Négdar, Chílim-potúk (N. of Kulankérki), Ginnári,
Golmaija, Kúnkuré (the tortoise), Báya-n-Dúchi (a village so called on
account of its being situate behind a hillock or rocky eminence, and the
birthplace of the chief Músa), Dakári, Majá, Gílmirám, Maihánkuba.]
[Footnote a: _b_, _p_, and _f_ (or rather _ph_, _ʿp_) are frequently
interchanged in all the dialects of the Central African languages.]
[Footnote 207: There can scarcely be any doubt that this place has some
connection with the tribe of Ilasgwas, mentioned by Corippus.]
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.
* * * * *
I.—ROUTE FROM ÁGADES TO SÓKOTO.
Day.
1st. Leaving Ágades in the afternoon, you encamp in the valley called
Úleye, where there is a well.
2nd. Kerbúb, a valley with water in the sand; start at daybreak, arrive
after sunset.
3rd. Aʿazeru; arrive at sunset, having started before daylight. The
whole ground travelled over is covered with pebbles, and now and then
with a little sand.
4th. Tebérkurt; arrive after sunset, having passed a watering-place
called Arúthes. All pebbles and stones.
5th. Íngal, a small town; salt of very good quality, and of red colour,
is obtained, but only in small quantities. The inhabitants, mostly
belonging to the tribe of the Íghdalén, speak a dialect of the Sónghay,
and possess much cattle, with which they supply the market of Ágades.
Formerly the S.W. gate of that town was therefore called “Kófa-n-Íngal.”
Arrive at sunset; ground pebbly, very few large stones.
6th. ——, a well, the name of which my informant did not remember; arrive
about 4 o’clock in the afternoon.
7th. Afáyen, a valley, where you arrive about the same time; pebbles and
sand.
8th. Encamp on the pebbly plain a little before sunset.
9th. The same; the plain here is overgrown with a little herbage.
10th. A spot called Semye-táyen; arrive at sunset.
11th. Jóbeli, a considerable place belonging to the province of Ádar,
the territory of which begins here.[208] It is the market of the Kél-
gerés. The language of the inhabitants is said to be a dialect of the
Sónghay; you arrive at about three o’clock P.M., after having passed on
your road “Tésaki,” a locality probably so called from the “capparis
sodata.”
12th. Awelímmiden, an encampment of the section of this great Tawárek
tribe which is called “Awelímmiden wuén Bodhál”; at sunset.
13th. Ir-zaghúr, a village; arrive about one o’clock P.M.; road very
rugged.
14th. Tinfáf, a village (N.B. I forgot to ask my informant to what tribe
belong the inhabitants of these two places); road rocky.
15th. Dúk-rausu, a village; about one o’clock P.M.
16th. Múzki, a village; at sunset; stony.
17th. Kónni, a considerable place, residence of Ádam, a chief who
commands a large body of cavalry; arrive a little after mid-day; road
very rocky.
18th. Jáni, a village; at sunset.
19th. Wúrno, a considerable place, the present residence of Emír el
Mumenín Alíyu, son of Bello; arrive at one o’clock P.M., after having
passed Saláme and other villages.
20th. Sókoto, after a march of about eight or nine hours.
II.—ROUTE FROM ÁGADES TO MARÁDI, ACCORDING TO THE INFORMATION OF THE
KÉL-GERÉS GOJÉRI AND HIS COMPANION GHÁSER.
1st. Érazar, a valley, where you arrive about three o’clock P.M., having
started from Ágades in the morning.
2nd. Ém-réndel, a valley; arrive about the same hour.
3rd. Urzédem, a valley; arrive at sunset, your march having led over a
sandy region.
4th. A valley, with water, which (according to Gojéri) is called Témiye,
but according to Gháser, Afénkúk; at about four o’clock. Probably these
are different valleys at a short distance from each other.
5th. A valley, Tewuílu, or another called Bégem; at sunset.
6th. Akúku; at ʿaser (about four o’clock), after having passed a valley
called Zeríten, where you fill your water-skins. The whole road consists
of pebbles.
7th. Tígger-áderez, a valley; at four o’clock.
8th. Etíddul, high sand-hills, where you arrive about noon.
9th. Jénkeb, a valley; about two o’clock P.M.
10th. Yamímma, a valley with water; arrive at ʿaser.
11th. Zermenétta, a village; about ʿaser.
12th. Awelímmid, a considerable place called after a settlement of the
Awelímmiden; arrive about one o’clock P.M.
13th. Ladémmau, or Eladémmau, the northernmost village of the province
of Góber, and the residence of Ittegáma, the brother of ʿAbd el Káder,
the sultan of Ágades.
14th. Gudunnézna, a village; arrive about one o’clock P.M.
15th. Ákerúf, a village; at the ʿaser.
16th, and the two following days travel over the Hammáda, or sárari.
19th. Arrive at Marádi, Mariyádi, or, as the Emgédesi people frequently
call it (apparently adopting the Berber idiom), Amrádi. I shall have to
say more about this country in the course of my narrative, and therefore
omit a list of the places in Góber, which I collected in Ágades.
III.—ITINERARY FROM ÁGADES TO DAM-ERGHÚ, ACCORDING TO VARIOUS
INFORMANTS.
1st. Leave the town in the afternoon, and sleep in Tésak-n-tállemt.
2nd. Valley Ériyán, with water; about ʿaser.
3rd. Sofó-n-bírni, a place now deserted, with a well filled up, but
evidently once a seat of government, being called “the old capital;” the
whole country is flat; arrive about three o’clock in the afternoon.
4th. Faífaí, a place with plenty of herbage; no water on the roadside
except in holes in the rocks.
5th. Lágato, a basin or pool of water, “tébki,” of very remarkable
extent, and surrounded with abundant herbage.
6th. Riyán, or “Eriyán-embísge,” with plenty of herbage; about sunset.
Another road from Lágato to Téténi seems to touch at the village Takóko.
7th. Téténi, with much herbage, no water; between four and five o’clock
P.M.
8th. Gagáwa, a village belonging to the district of Dam-erghú, with a
basin of water which is said to be connected in the rainy season with
that of Lágato; arrive about ʿaser.
9th. Tágelel, the village belonging to the chief Ánnur; about noon.
IV.—ROUTE FROM ÁGADES TO BÍLMA, ACCORDING TO THE EMGÉDESI ÉDERI.
1st. Leaving Ágades in the evening, sleep the first night at about half
an hour’s distance from the town, in the depression called Efígi-n-
tághalamt.
2nd. Tin-tabórak, a valley with water, where you arrive at the ʿaser,
after having passed early in the morning the valley called Amelúli.
3rd. Binébbu, a valley ornamented with dúm-palms, where you arrive a
little before sunset. In the morning you keep for a while along the
valley of Tin-tabórak, after which your way lies over the rocks,
crossing three different valleys, viz. Eméller, Aráta, and the valley of
Amdégeru, before you arrive at that called Binébbu.
4th. Tín-dawén, a valley with water; arrive about one o’clock P.M.
5th. Atezérket, after the ʿaser; all rocky ground.
6th. Encamp on the Hammáda, or ténere, consisting of pebbles; about the
ʿaser.
7th. Tázel, a spot among the rocks; about the same hour.
8th. Efígagén, a locality of similar character; about sunset.[209]
9th. Débradu Ezákker, a hollow between the rocks; halt two hours after
sunset and rest awhile, then start again.
10th, and the four following days, you travel night and day over the
Hammáda, making only a short halt from ʿAshá to about midnight. On the
Hammáda there are neither trees nor stones, and scarcely any herbage.
15th. Fáshi, the westernmost oasis of the “Hénderi Tedá,” or, as it is
called by the Arabs, Wádi Kawár, with plenty of date-trees and two
castles, one of which is in ruins, while the other is in good condition.
16th. About two hours after sunset, encamp on the Hammáda, when, after
about three or four hours’ repose, you start again, and continue the
whole of the night.
17th. Encamp late in the evening and start again, as the day before.
18th. Bílma, the well-known town in Kawár, with the salt-pits. The
Tawárek call all the Tedá or Tébu Beraúni, a name which in the following
volume I shall endeavour to explain, from the original connection
between this people and the Kanúri or Bórnu race.
V.—ROUTE FROM ÁGADES TO TAWÁT ACCORDING TO ʿABD-ALLA.
N.B. Although the first part of this route, as far as Neswa, coincides
in many places with my own route, I shall nevertheless not omit it, as
the coincidence in question proves the accuracy and intelligence of the
informant.
1st. Leaving the town in the afternoon, you encamp the first night near
the village called El Khasás, or El Hakhsás, in the fertile valley of
the same name, distant from Ágades about eight miles.
2nd. Télwa, a valley, where you arrive about the ʿaser, after having
passed on your road several valleys separated from each other by rocky
ground, more or less elevated. Early in the morning you cross the valley
called Ázal, then that called Tufátekín; after which, about noon, you
pass the celebrated valley of Ír-n-allem, with ruins of old houses, and
two fruit-bearing date-trees; after which, before you arrive at Télwa,
there is still another valley to be crossed, which is called Isérserén.
3rd. Úklef, a valley with water, like Télwa; arrive at the time of the
ʿaser, after having crossed the Wadi Ása, and afterwards gone over a
pebbly level called Tínin.
4th. Makám e’ Sheikh ben ʿAbd el Kerím, a sort of mosque known to some
under the name of Msíd Sídi Baghdádi, where you arrive about an hour
before sunset, after having rested, during the greatest heat, near
Aúderas. In the morning, your road passes for some time along the valley
Úklef.
5th. Tíggeda; about ʿaser.
6th. Encamp about sunset on rocky ground. Pass in the morning the valley
called Tefárrowet; then cross for some hours gravelly ground, with a few
large white projecting stones; after which you descend into the valley
called Ágaten, where, near a well, you pass the hours of the greatest
heat.
7th. Ténsif; arrive before the ʿaser.
8th. Iferwán, one of the finest valleys of Aïr, with a village of the
same name, and plenty of date-trees bearing excellent fruit. Arrive at
sunset, after having passed a number of small valleys called Aghítam.
9th. Tídik, a valley, with a village of the same name, where you arrive
before the ʿaser, after having passed the well called Néggaru.
10th. Súf méllel, “the white sand,” a place in the gravelly ground, over
which your route lies the whole day; arrive about ʿaser.
11th. Zelíl, an inhabited spot, where you arrive about one o’clock P.M.,
after having passed valleys called respectively Ageléndi, Fadé, and
Merátha. (N.B. The valley can be called by this last name only by the
Arabs.)
12th. Ifígi or Ifíne-makkéder, called by others Ifíne-bákka, where you
arrive at sunset, after having marched the whole day over a pebbly plain
called by the Arabs “Shʿabet el Ahír.” The reason why this plain
received such a remarkable name was evidently because it was here, in
the neighbourhood of the hill Máket-n-ikelán[210], that the ancient
Góber country of Asben was changed into the Berber country of Aïr, or,
as the Arabs call it, Ahír.
13th. You encamp on the Hammáda, where there is a little herbage, after
having crossed a rocky ground full of pebbles, and having passed a
valley called Tiyúten.
14th. You encamp at one o’clock P.M. on a spot with a little herbage of
the species called “el hád,” after having crossed a stony tract called
by the people Tim-ázgaren.
15th. Néswa, a well, not far west of the well Asïu, where you arrive
after the ʿaser, after having crossed a valley called Tafsástan.
16th. Teráf, a place on the Hammáda, where you encamp at the ʿaser.
17th. Tin-terámbe, a valley, with a famous cavern called Aʿagídet e’
Níb, where you arrive at the ʿaser, proceeding always on the Hammáda.
18th. Encamp at sunset between sand-hills called by the Arabs “el Ark,”
or “Irk” (the Hills).
19th. Tageréra, a valley, where you arrive about one o’clock P.M., after
having entered a mountainous tract called “Aghíl.”
20th. El Ághsul, a valley with water, where you arrive a little after
noon, after having passed over rugged ground called Esfaméllesa.
21st. Tékderen, a valley, where you arrive after the ʿaser.
22nd. Egháraghén, a valley, where you arrive at the time of the ʿaser,
after having crossed a flat plain covered with pebbles.
23rd. Zérzer, a valley with water; arrival at the ʿaser. The ground of
the same character.
24th. Ifék, a valley; arrival at the ʿaser. Country the same.
25th. _El Imkám_[211], a valley, where you arrive at one o’clock P.M.,
pebbly ground.
26th. Ágnar, a plain inclosed by ridges; arrive at the ʿaser, after
having kept first along the valley which is called by the Arabs el
Imkám, and leads into another valley called Temághaset, from which you
enter upon the plain.
27th. Turaghén, a valley, where you encamp about the ʿaser, after having
crossed another valley called Utúl, into which you descend from the
gravelly level.
28th. Tílak, a valley; where you arrive after the ʿaser, having crossed
another valley called Éheri.
29th. Tema-sanéggeti, a valley; arrive at the ʿaser, having crossed
another valley called Tín-agh-ákeli.
30th. Én-émmegel, a valley rich in trees, where you encamp at sunset.
To-day you have to pass two other valleys called Erésnughén and Tin-
táheli, all these valleys being separated from each other by a hammáda
of an even surface, without stones.
31st. Tehárraket, a valley commanded by a mountain called Turéret, where
you arrive about the ʿaser; pebbles and stones.
N.B. Tehárraket is a very important point on this route, as, having now
turned the high mountainous region of the desert of the Hogár or Hágara,
which you leave on your right, you change your direction, and turn
northwards.
32nd. Hágara, a valley with a well called Tehelehóhet, where you arrive
after the ʿaser.
33rd. Súf méllel, another locality of the same name as that above
mentioned, where you arrive about the ʿaser, after having passed two
valleys, the first of which is called Akdhau, and the other Ém-ujáj.
34th. Sheikh Sálah with the surname Melá el ákhsen, “the best of
men,”[212] near to whose chapel, situate in the mountainous tract
Tésennu, there is water; you arrive a little before sunset, having
passed over a pebbly level.
35th. Terazart, “the little valley” or “glen;” shortly before sunset;
hammáda.
36th. Emmesír, a valley, where you arrive after the ʿaser. In the
morning you keep along a valley called Méniyet, with a well, beyond
which you cross another valley called Afísfes, while the last part of
your road leads over the hammáda, consisting of gravel.
37th. Etgúlgulet, where you arrive at the time of the ʿaser. In the
morning you keep for a while along the valley Emmesír, till you reach
the valley called Arák; and following it up, you pass two watering-
places, one of which is called (by the Arabs) Sekíyah, and the other “el
Hájar.”
38th. Tajemút, a valley, where you encamp before the ʿaser.
39th. Koikewát, a cluster of small valleys, where you encamp at one
o’clock, P.M.
40th. Gurdí, a valley, where you arrive a little before sunset, after
having crossed another valley called Teráttimín, with water.
41st. The well in the long valley Ághmemár.
42nd. Encamp about the same hour, still in the same valley Ághmemár.
43rd. Én-semméd, where you arrive after the ʿaser. In the morning you
still keep along the broad valley of Ághmemár until you ascend a
mountain, from which you descend into another valley called by the Arabs
“el Botta,” probably on account of its hollow shape; here is a well
called “Tin-Slimán.” Proceeding along the valley, you reach the place of
your encampment for the night.
44th. El Ghábah (the Forest), of great extent and full of brushwood;
arrive at the ʿaser, after having crossed on your road a depression or
hollow called e’ Shaʿab, from which you enter upon rising ground and
come to the forest.
45th. Ín-sálah, the great market-place of the southernmost district of
Tawát, where you arrive about the ʿaser, first keeping in the forest,
then ascending a little.
N.B.—Along this route, as I learned on a later occasion, there are
several places where _salt_ is found, which, as the fact is one of the
greatest interest, I shall here name together, although I am
unfortunately not able to connect the first places which I have to
mention with the corresponding points of the itinerary. These are Ém-
éddarór, said to be six days’ march from Asïu; further on, Ahóren, and,
one day S. from the well Tin-slimán, Én-méllel.
I here also add what information I could collect about the tribes
dwelling on or near this road. As far as Néswa, we know them from what I
have said above; but the first part also of the road from this place is
inhabited by sections of the Imghád, as the Kél-áhenet, while the Ijrán
have their settlements even as far west as the valley Tájemút.
_a. The Sakomáren._
Next to the Imghád, on the north side of the road, are the Sakomáren, a
tribe who in the middle age of the Arabs lived N.E. from the middle
course of the so-called Niger, and of whom some remains are still to be
found in the neighbourhood of that river, near Timbúktu; for there can
be no doubt about the identity of these tribes.[213] By what revolution
this tribe was driven from their ancient seats we are not yet able to
say; however it may be, Ebn Batúta found the Berdáma where the Sakomáren
had formerly resided.
Their present settlements seem not to be so very dreary, and are said to
be rich in pasture-grounds, so that they are enabled to breed plenty of
cattle, and make a good deal of butter, with which they supply the less
favoured districts of Ásben. They appear to possess, however, little
strength, and are greatly influenced apparently by their intimate
friendship with the Tawátíye; part of them live even in the territory of
the latter oasis, principally belonging to the section called Welád-
wúen-Tawát, a name manifesting a curious mixture of Arabic and
Temáshight, though the main body of them is said to dwell in the
district of Amgíd. Besides the name of this tribe, I learnt the names of
the following: viz.,
The Kél-tegéttuft, who inhabit the district called Ahóhoghén;
The Kél-úhet, whose tents are generally pitched in Ahéllegen;
The Welád Témenít, living in Fazólet;
The tribe of the Háj ʿAli, living in a valley called Gháris: and,
The Ihiyáwen-háda, a tribe living in Imáhir, and probably related to the
tribe called simply Ihiyáwen.
_b. The Hogár_ or _Hágara._
Formerly I thought that the Hogár were more numerous than their eastern
kinsmen the Azkár, and that they were able to bring into the field as
many as three thousand men; but I have discovered in the course of my
proceedings, that the free men, the real “hharár” or Imóshagh among them
scarcely exceed five hundred, while of course their Imghád and slaves
muster a greater number. But notwithstanding their small number, the
Hogár are much feared by the other tribes, on account of their great
bodily size and strength, and because they are armed with a variety of
weapons, and are thickly clothed. They live entirely upon meat and milk,
and have few resources but their herds, as they do not levy tribute on
the caravans, but receive only small sums from the Kúnta, the Berabísh,
and even a light tax from Arawán. They are not capable of turning to
account the salt-mines of Taodénni, which are rather distant from their
seats, though they levy a small tribute from the chief of that place.
But their relations to the western part of the desert will be more
clearly understood from what I shall say in another place.
The Hogár are divided into six branches:—
The Kél-ghálla, inhabiting the valley of Erárar (a general appellation
for a large valley plain);
The Bu-ghelán, living in the valley of Téfedist;
The Tai-túk, inhabiting the fine valley Arák;
The Tégehin-usídi, who have their abode in the valley of Téghazart;
The Inémba, who pitch their tents in the valley Tífi-n-ákeli;
The Íkdeyén, who inhabit Anímmegel.
I will now add a few remarks on the centre of the district occupied by
this tribe, which seems to present traits of peculiar interest. It is
generally called by the Arabs “jébel Hagár,” but this is not the
original appellation, its true or indigenous name being “_Atakór_.” This
mountain-mass (which evidently lies in the angle formed by the route
from Asïu to Tawát) stretches from three to four days’ march in length,
and one in breadth, from S. to N., at the distance of seven days’ march
S.E. from Tawát. My intelligent friend the sheikh Sídi Ahmed el Bakáy,
in Timbúktu, who had lived some time among the Hogár, as well as among
the tribes of Aïr, especially the Kél-fadaye, assured me, in the most
positive way, that this mountain-group, and one long range of it in
particular, is far higher than the mountains of Aïr; the rocks being
very steep and of red colour. He represented to me, as very remarkable
and probably the highest of the group, the isolated, detached, and steep
peak Ílimán or Élimán. Very fine valleys and glens are formed between
these mountains, some of them watered by lively perennial streams, and
producing figs and grapes.
In this place may be fitly mentioned those Tawárek tribes that live
within the boundaries of Tawát. These are the Kél-eméllel or Welád
Fákki, as they are called by the people of Tawát, and their kinsmen the
Tígge-n-sákkel, and also the Tígge-n-gáli. These tribes are regarded as
belonging to the Tawárek, while the Gurára are considered as Zenáta; and
it is very erroneous to regard Tawát as almost a Tawárek country.
VI.—ROUTE FROM ÁGADES TO THE HILLET E’ SHEIKH SÍDI EL MUKHTÁR IN AZAWÁD,
ACCORDING TO THE KÉL-FERWÁN BAINA.
N.B. This route is a path taken at present every year by the Kél-ferwán
when they sally forth to plunder the caravans on the road from Tawát to
Timbúktu; it is not altogether a direct road, as I learnt afterwards.
But unfortunately none of the people of Azawád (who, as I mentioned
above, when they do not go by way of Timbúktu, generally take the road
to Mekka by way of Ágades) was able to give me the exact details of the
direct road. This road passes through the seats of the Awelímmiden.
Day.
1st. Énwágged, a valley, where you arrive at the ʿaser, having started
from Ágades in the morning.
2nd. Imintédent (perhaps Ém-n-tédent), where you arrive about the same
hour, having crossed many depressions or hollows in the rocky ground.
3rd. Sakéret, a valley; arrive at sunset.
4th. Etmet Tadérret, a valley; arrive two hours after sunset.
5th. Agrédem; about ʿaser. The whole day’s journey lies over a hammáda
of red soil (recalling to mind the sameness of all these elevated levels
in Central Africa), the red colour being produced by the iron oxide.
6th. Etsá-n-élimán; at ʿaser. Hammáda.
7th. Tímmia; at ʿaser. Hammáda.
8th. Ebelághlaghén; about the same hour. Hammáda.
9th. Isakeríyen; about the same hour. The hammáda is here covered with a
little herbage. The road thus far seems to be about N.N.W.; hence it
turns north-westward.
10th. Etsá-n-Hébbi; about the ʿaser.
11th. Igédian; about one o’clock P.M.
12th. Akár; about the ʿaser.
13th. Kélijít; a little after noon.
14th. Ákalú, a considerable valley with water, which you reach at one
o’clock.
15th. Ákerír, an inhabited valley, where you arrive about the ʿaser,
having travelled the morning till after mid-day along the valley Ákalú.
16th. Kídal; after the ʿaser.
This name, as I learnt afterwards, is not applied to a single locality,
but comprises a district with fertile valleys, inhabited by the Debákal,
who breed an excellent race of horses.
17th. Tim-áklali; about ʿaser.
18th. Asalágh; at sunset, after having crossed several hollows in the
rocky ground. Here you find inhabitants, partly Arabs, of the tribe of
the Kúnta, partly Tawárek, of the widely dispersed tribe of the Ífógas.
19th. Aghasher (Eghazar), a fine valley with date-trees, corn, and
tobacco. At some distance from it is another fertile valley called
Tesillíte, likewise abounding in dates.
20th. Tigháughawen; about the ʿaser.
21st. Hillet e’ Sheikh Sídi el Mukhtár, a celebrated place of worship,
where you arrive about one o’clock P.M. This place ought to have
considerable interest for all those who take an interest in the
circumstances attending the frequent sacrifice of life made in the
arduous endeavour to open the African continent to European science and
intercourse; for this is the very spot where the unfortunate Major
Laing, under the protection of Sídi Mohammed, the father of my noble
friend the sheikh el Bakáy, recovered from those fearful wounds which he
had received in the nocturnal attack by the Tawárek in Wadi Ahénnet.
Hence, in the few letters which he sent home, so full of resignation and
heroic courage, he called the place “belád Sídi Mohammed.” In the
further course of our narrative this spot will be connected with
Timbúktu.
[Footnote 208: I shall say more about Ádar in the fourth volume of my
journal.]
[Footnote 209: About the name Efígagén, which is probably only a
dialectic variety of Efínagen, I have spoken in a former passage.]
[Footnote 210: See my narrative, p. 289.]
[Footnote 211: The name Imkám is remarkable. It seems to denote a
religious “station;” and it is interesting, as it exactly corresponds
with the station Dekhár, mentioned by the famous traveller Ebn Batúta as
ten days distant from the well where the road to Tawát separated from
that to Egypt, which, there cannot be the least doubt, is identical with
Asïu or with Néswa.]
[Footnote 212: Whether this Sheikh Sálah be the same as the famous
sheikh of the same name, who has given his name to the celebrated Wadi
el Sheikh, in the peninsula of Sinai, I cannot tell.]
[Footnote 213: The Arab authors always write صغماره; but with regard to
African names there is the greatest uncertainty in the use of the غ, the
ق, and the ك. Thus some write غرمه others قرمه; Gober is written كوبر,
by others غوبر; Tagant تكانت and تغانت.]
VII.
FRAGMENTS OF METEOROLOGICAL REGISTER.
* * * * *
[Deg. F.: Degrees in scale of Fahrenheit.]
+-----+-------+-------+------------------------------------------------+
|Date.|Hour of|Deg. F.| Remarks. |
| | Day. | | |
+-----+-------+-------+------------------------------------------------+
|1850.| | | |
|April| | | |
| | | | |
| 1 |5.15 | 48·6 | Rain the whole day. |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 2 |6.0 | 50 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 3 |6.15 | 55·4 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 4 |No observation.| |
| | | | |
| 5 |5.15 | 51·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 6 |5.0 | 50 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 55·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 7 |5.10 | 45 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 8 |9.30 | 72·5 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 9 |10.0 | 72-5 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 10 |5.30 | 66·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 84·2 | |
| | | | |
| |6.30. | 77 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 11 |5.30 | 53·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |6.0 | 68 | Easterly wind for some days. |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 12 |5.30 | 50 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 13 |5.15 | 50 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |2.0 | 91·8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 14 |5.0 | 43·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 86 | |
| | | | |
| |9.30 | 59 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 15 |5.0 | 42 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 78·3 | |
| | | | |
| |9.0 | 57·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 16 |5.0 | 43·7 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.30 | 80·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |9.0 | 66·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 17 |5.0 | 50·4 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 89·6 | |
| | | | |
| |9.0 | 66·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 18 |5.0 | 45·5 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 78·8 | |
| | | | |
| |8.45 | 63·5 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 19 |5.0 | 50·5 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 20 |5.30 | 45·5 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.15 | 68 | |
| | | | |
| 21 |No observation.| |
| | | | |
| 22 |5.0 | 48·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 23 |6.0 | 50 | El Hási. |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 86 | |
| | | | |
| 24 |5.30 | 40·1 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |12.0 | 82·4 |} |
| | | |} |
| |9.0 | 60·8 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 25 |5.0 | 46·4 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |12.0 | 86 |} |
| | | |} |
| |2.0 | 109·4 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |7.0 | 78·8 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 26 |5.0 | 59 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |12.0 | 84·4 |} |
| | | |} |
| |7.0 | 75·6 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 27 |5.30 | 51·8 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |7.30 | 80·6 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 28 |12.0 | 106·7 |} |
| | | |} |
| 29 |5.0 | 85 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |12.15 | 104 |} |
| | | |} |
| |7.30 | 89·6 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 30 |5.15 | 73·4 |} |
| |a.m. | |} Most of these days a southerly hot wind |
| | | |} towards noon. |
| |7.30 | 93·2 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| May | | |} |
| | | |} |
| 1 |5.0 | 77 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |12.0 | 102·2 |} |
| | | |} |
| |7.0 | 95 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 2 |5.15 | 73·4 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |7.0 | 98·6 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 3 |5.0 | 73·4 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |12.25 | 96·8 |} |
| | | |} |
| |8.45 | 82·4 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 4 |6.30 | 62·6 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |12.0 | 89·6 |} |
| | | |} |
| |7.20 | 73·4 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 5 |1.30 | 89·6 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |7.0 | 82·4 |} |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 6 |No observation.| |
| | | | |
| 7 |6.30 | 80·6 | (Múrzuk.) |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |2.0 | 98·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 8 |12.30 | 97·7 | A heavy gibleh; the first time to-day we had a|
| | | | covered sky, and found it in the course of our|
| | | | residence characteristic of Múrzuk in this |
| | | | season. Towards evening the sky became |
| | | | generally clouded. |
| | | | |
| 9 |12.0 | 96 | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 10 |6.30 | 75·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 11 |6.0 | 73·4 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 12 |6.30 | 77 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.30 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 13 |6.0 | 77 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 87·8 | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 86 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 14 |6.45 | 75·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 90·5 | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 88·7 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 15 |7.0 | 78 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 95 | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 94 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 16 |6.15 | 75·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 95 | |
| | | | |
| |2.45 | 98·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 91·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 17 |6.0 | 80·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.45 | 96 | |
| | | | |
| |2.40 | 98·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 18 |7.0 | 75·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 94 | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 91·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 19 |6.0 | 77·3 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 89·6 | |
| | | | |
| |3.0 | 96 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 91·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 20 |6.0 | 77 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.45 | 86 | |
| | | | |
| |3.0 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 21 |6.15 | 72 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 90 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 85 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 22 |6.0 | 71·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 86 | |
| | | | |
| |2.30 | 90 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 84·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 23 |6.30 | 73·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 89·6 | |
| | | | |
| |1.30 | 91·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |3.30 | 94 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 91·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |11.30 | 82·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 24 |5.45 | 78·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.15 | 95 | |
| | | | |
| |1.45 | 96·8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |10.30 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 25 |6.15 | 82·4 | In the morning a cool N.E. wind, which had |
| |a.m. | | been blowing the whole night. |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 87 | |
| | | | |
| |10.30 | 82·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 26 |6.0 | 76 | At 8 a.m. it began to rain; but the N.E. wind |
| |a.m. | | being heavy, only little rain fell inside the |
| | | | town; more, however, in the desert. |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 82·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |10.30 | 77 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 27 |6.30 | 72 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |3.0 | 90 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 85 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |10.30 | 78 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 28 |6.0 | 71·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 84·2 | |
| | | | |
| |3.15 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |11.0 | 78 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 29 |6.0 | 72 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 87 | |
| | | | |
| |3.0 | 86 | The sky in the afternoon thickly overcast. |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |10.15 | 80·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 30 |6.30 | 75·2 | 11.30 a.m. it began to rain, the rain becoming|
| |a.m. | | gradually heavier, and lasting an hour; but at|
| | | | half-past 8 o’clock in the evening the storm |
| | | | broke forth in its full force, with much |
| | | | lightning but little rain. |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 78·8 | |
| | | | |
| |10.0 | 80·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 31 |5.45 | 76 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 90 | |
| | | | |
| |2.45 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| June| | | |
| | | | |
| 1 |6.0 | 80·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 95 | |
| | | | |
| |2.0 | 98·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |3.0 | 100·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |10.30 | 91·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 2 |7.0 | 85 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 89·6 | |
| | | | |
| |3.0 | 103 | At 5 p.m. a heavy storm arose from the |
| |p.m. | | westward. |
| | | | |
| |11.45 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 3 |5.15 | 84·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 99 | |
| | | | |
| |3.0 | 100·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 98·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |10.45 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 4 |6.0 | 82·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 96·8 | |
| | | | |
| |3.0 | 102·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |10.15 | 91·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 5 |7.0 | 86 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 100·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |4.0 | 105 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |10.30 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 6 |12.0 | 95 | |
| | | | |
| |2.30 | 100·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 7 |6.0 | 80·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 86 | |
| | | | |
| |10.15 | 82·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 8 |6.0 | 71·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 84·2 | |
| | | | |
| |4.15 | 90 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 86 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 9 |6.0 | 76 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 86 | |
| | | | |
| |11.0 | 82·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 10 |6.0 | 76 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |2.30 | 94 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |11.0 | 85 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 11 |5.0 | 69·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |6.30 | 78 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 94 | |
| | | | |
| 12 |6.0 | 78·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 96·8 | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 95 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 13 |5.30 | 80·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.30 | 105 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 14 |5.0 | 70·7 | A strong gale. |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.30 | 107·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 15 |5.15 | 75·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 111·2 | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 16 |5.45 | 71·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 102·2 | |
| | | | |
| |1.30 | 105·8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 94 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 17 |12.0 | 111·2 | (Encampment in Tiggérodé.) |
| | | | |
| |1.45 | 114·8 | Sky covered. |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |9.0 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 18 |5.30 | 77 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.45 | 111·2 | |
| | | | |
| |9.0 | 95 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 19 |5.0 | 77 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |2.0 | 108·5 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 20 |5.0 | 77 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 21 |1.0 | 99·5 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 22 |5.30 | 87 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 99·5 | |
| | | | |
| 23 |5.30 | 86 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 102·2 | |
| | | | |
| |11.30 | 86 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 24 |5.15 | 87·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 101·3 | A fresh gale. |
| | | | |
| 25 |6.0 | 78 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.30 | 108·5 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 98·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 26 |5.0 | 78 | The sky towards the east covered. |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |10.30 | 102·2 | Twice in the morning a few drops of rain. |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 27 |5.0 | 69 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 93·2 | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 90·5 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 28 |5.0 | 66·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 93·2 | |
| | | | |
| 29 |5.30 | 69 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 98·6 | |
| | | | |
| |7.45 | 85 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 30 |4.50 | 63·5 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.30 | 103 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.15 | 87·8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| July| | | |
| | | | |
| 1 |4.50 | 66·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 99·5 | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 86 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 2 |5.0 | 68 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 100·4 | |
| | | | |
| |7.45 | 83·3 | In the afternoon and the following day very |
| |p.m. | | heavy N.E. gales. |
| | | | |
| 3 |5.0 | 69 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 102·2 | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 91·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 4 |5.0 | 69·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.15 | 107·6 | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 88·7 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 5 |4.45 | 70·7 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.15 | 91·4 | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 84·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 6 |4.45 | 70·7 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 83·3 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 7 |4.45 | 68·5 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 85 | In the very cool shade of a rock. |
| | | | |
| 8 |4.45 | 85 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.45 | 102·2 | |
| | | | |
| |9.0 | 87·8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 9 |4.30 | 75·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 105·8 | |
| | | | |
| |9.0 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 10 |4.30 | 70·7 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 104 | |
| | | | |
| |8.0 | 86 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 11 |5.0 | 68 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 105·8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |8.30 | 87·8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 12 |5.15 | 65·3 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 106·7 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |8.15 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 13 |4.45 | 75·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 107·6 | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 95 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 14 |4.30 | 84·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 105 | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 15 |4.30 | 75·2 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 18 |4.45 | 64·4 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} On these days warm southerly wind. |
| |2.15 | 105·8 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 19 |5.30 | 76 |} (Bárakat.) |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
|20-24| | | (Ghát) no observations. |
| | | | |
| 25 |12.30 | 104 | |
| | | | |
| |7.45 | 95 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 26 |4.45 | 82·4 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.15 | 107·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |7.0 | 97·7 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 27 |5.0 | 75·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.45 | 103 | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 28 |4.15 | 69·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.45 | 104 | |
| | | | |
| |7.30 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 29 |4.45 | 85 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 99·5 | |
| | | | |
| |8.0 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 30 |4.30 | 77 | (Égeri.) |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 96·8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |8.30 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 31 |5.0 | 71·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| Aug.| | | |
| | | | |
| 1 |4.45 | 66·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.25 | 98·6 | |
| | | | |
| |8.0 | 85 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 2 |5.0 | 68 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |8.0 | 86 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 3 |4.30 | 67 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.40 | 105·8 |} |
| | | |} In the afternoon a light breeze. |
| |8.15 | 85 |} |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 4 |5.0 | 74·3 | (Falésselez.) |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 111·2 | In the afternoon clouded sky, foreboding rain.|
| | | | |
| |8.0 | 91 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 5 |5.15 | 75·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 102·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |8.0 | 89·6 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 6 |5.0 | 68 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 100·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |8.0 | 86 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 7 |4.45 | 69 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 95 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |8.30 | 84·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 8 |4.45 | 74·3 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 95 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 9 |No observation.| |
| | | | |
| 10 |5.0 | 68 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |2.0 | 94 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |8.0 | 85 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 11 |5.30 | 73·4 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |8.0 | 85 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 12 |5.10 | 67 | A cool breeze. |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.20 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 13 |5.30 | 77 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| | {| 96·8 | In the cool shade of a rock. |
| |1·45 {| | |
| |p.m. {| | |
| | {| 107·6 | In aired tent. |
| | | | |
| 14 |1.0 | 98·6 | Generally a light breeze arose at 10 a.m. |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |9.30 | 87·8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 15 |5.0 | 78 | The wind to-day got up at an early hour, the |
| |a.m. | | sky becoming more and more clouded, till at 1 |
| | | | p.m. a heavy storm broke forth, followed by a |
| | | | heavy shower at 2 o’clock, accompanied by |
| | | | distant thunder. |
| | | | |
| |1.0 p.m| 98·6 | |
| | | | |
| |9.15 | 88·7 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 16 |5.0 | 78.8 | The whole day the southern sky was covered |
| |a.m. | | with small clouds. The sun was piercing. At |
| | | | 2.30 p.m. a violent storm arose in the east, |
| | | | but did not break forth till 4.30 p.m., when |
| | | | it was followed by a heavy shower. |
| | | | |
| |12.45 | 98·6 | |
| | | | |
| |9.0 | 78.8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 17 |2.0 | 87 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
|18 to|No observation.| |
| 30 | | | |
| | | | |
| 31 | — |} | At 3 p.m. a storm, accompanied by a little |
| | |} | rain, lasting about an hour; further |
| | |} | southwards more rain; during the night another|
| | |} | fall of rain. |
| | |} | |
|Sept.| |} | |
| | |} | |
| 1 | — |} | Rain the whole of the morning. |
| | |} | |
| 2 | — |} | A fresh wind. |
| | |} | |
| 4 | — |} | A heavy shower in the morning, lasting about |
| | |} | two hours. |
| | |} | |
| 5 | — |} | (Tintéllust.) After mid-day a heavy tornado, |
| | |} | followed at 2 p.m. by a shower, lasting till 4|
| | |} No | p.m. |
| | |}therm.| |
| 6 | — |} obs. | In the afternoon a tornado, and rain till the |
| | |} | evening. |
| | |} | |
| 7 | — |} | Sky the whole day clear; no rain. |
| | |} | |
| 8 | — |} | A very heavy tornado in the after-noon from |
| | |} | S.S.W., followed by much rain, lasting from 4 |
| | |} | p.m. till 10 p.m. |
| | |} | |
| 9 | — |} | In the afternoon a storm gathering from N.E., |
| | |} | but reaching us from S.S.W. at 3 p.m., with |
| | |} | heavy rain lasting till 7 p.m. |
| | |} | |
| 10 | — |} | A storm all around us; no rain near us. |
| | | | |
| 11 |12.30 | 96·8 | No rain. |
| | | | |
| 12 |5.45 | 71·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.45 | 96·8 | In the afternoon a tornado, with rain. |
| | | | |
| 13 |1.0 | 100·4 | In the afternoon a storm, without rain. |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 14 |5.30 | 68 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |1.0 | 81·5 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| 15 |6.0 | 69·8 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} No storm. |
| |12.30 | 99·5 |} |
| | | |} |
| 16 |5.30 | 69 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |1.0 | 99 |} |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 17 | — | — |} |
| | | |} Fine weather. |
| 18 | — | — |} |
| | | | |
| 19 | — | — | At 2 p.m. a storm gathering from S.S.W. and |
| | | | N.N.E., but only a little rain at 3 p.m. |
| | | | |
| 20 | — | — | At 1 p.m. a storm, followed by heavy rain at 2|
| | | | p.m. |
| | | | |
| 21 | — | — |} |
| | | |} No storm. |
| 22 | — | — |} |
| | | | |
| 23 |6.0 | 71·6 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.0 | 96·8 | At 2 p.m. a heavy storm, but without rain. |
| | | | |
| 24 |6.15 | 73·4 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.0 | 98·6 | At 2 p.m. a violent storm, which upset our |
| |p.m. | | tents, and was accompanied by heavy rain. |
| | | | |
| 25 |6.0 | 64·4 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |1.30 | 95 |} |
| |p.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |6.45 | 86 |} |
| |p.m. | |} No storm. |
| | | |} |
| 26 |6.45 | 64·2 |} |
| |a.m. | |} |
| | | |} |
| |12.30 | 96 |} |
| | | |} |
| |6.0 | 91·4 |} |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 27 |6.15 | 69·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 95 | |
| | | | |
| |6.30 | 91·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 28 |6.15 | 75·2 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.10 | 95 | At 2 p.m. a heavy tornado, with but a few |
| | | | drops of rain. |
| | | | |
| |6.20 | 86 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 29 |5.40 | 67 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.15 | 99·5 | Sultry weather, but no storm. |
| | | | |
| |6.15 | 91·4 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 30 |5.30 | 68 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |6.15 | 93·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| Oct.| | | |
| | | | |
| 1 |5.40 | 69·8 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |1.30 | 101·3 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |6.20 | 95 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 2 |5.45 | 73·4 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |12.30 | 97·7 | |
| | | | |
| |6.45 | 92·3 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 3 |12.30 | 91·4 | |
| | | | |
| 4 |5.45 | 68 | |
| |a.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 5 |12.0 | 95·7 | |
| | | | |
| |6.30 | 87·8 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 6 |12.0 | 100·4 | |
| | | | |
| |6.15 | 88·7 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 7 |No observation.| The last fall of the rainy season, 1850, |
| | | | setting in shortly before noon, and lasting |
| | | | half an hour. |
| | | | |
| 8 |6.10 | 87 | At 8.30 p.m., while encamped in the valley |
| |p.m. | | Bóghel, a meteor fell in our neighbourhood |
| | | | with a very great noise. |
| | | | |
From October 9. till November 8. no observations; weather generally
clear; cool in the morning; on October 20. sky a little overcast.
| | | | |
| Nov.| | | |
|[214]| | | |
| | | | |
| 9 |r. | 43·7 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 69 | |
| | | | |
| 10 |r. | 47·3 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 69·8 | |
| | | | |
| 11 |r. | 47·3 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 66·2 | |
| | | | |
| 12 |r. | 43·7 | |
| | | | |
| |1.15 | 86 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 67·1 | |
| | | | |
| 13 |r. | 45·5 | |
| | | | |
| |12·0 | 77 | |
| | | | |
| |5.30 | 66·2 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 14 |r. | 43·7 | |
| | | | |
| |6.0 | 59·9 | |
| |p.m. | | |
| | | | |
| 15 |½ h. | 50 | |
| |bef. r.| | |
| | | | |
| |real r.| 41·9 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 66·2 | |
| | | | |
| 16 |r. | 46·4 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 67·1 | |
| | | | |
| 17 |r. | 47·3 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 69·8 | |
| | | | |
| 18 |r. | 48·2 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 69’8 | |
| | | | |
| 19 |r. | 50 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 68 | |
| | | | |
| 20 |r. | 50 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 68 | |
| | | | |
| 21 |r. | 48·2 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 68 | |
| | | | |
| 22 |r. | 50 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 68 | |
| | | | |
| 23 |r. | 48·2 | Sky covered; and windy. |
| | | | |
| |s. | 65·3 | |
| | | | |
| 24 |r. | 48·2 | Sky very cloudy. |
| | | | |
| |s. | 67 | |
| | | | |
| 25 |r. | 50 | The weather cleared up. |
| | | | |
| |s. | 68 | |
| | | | |
| 26 |r. | 50 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 68 | |
| | | | |
| 27 |r. | 50 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 71·6 | |
| | | | |
| 28 |r. | 50 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 71·6 | |
| | | | |
| 29 |r. | 51·8 | Sky covered. |
| | | | |
| |s. | 72·5 | |
| | | | |
| 30 |r. | 57·2 | At 9.30 a.m. the sun broke forth. |
| | | | |
| |s. | 74·3 | |
| | | | |
| Dec.| | | |
| | | | |
| 1 |r. | 52·7 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 72·5 | |
| | | | |
| 2 |r. | 51 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 68 | |
| | | | |
| 3 |r. | 53·6 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 66·2 | |
| | | | |
| 4 |r. | 46·4 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 71·6 | |
| | | | |
| 5 |r. | 58·1 | Sky very cloudy. |
| | | | |
| |s. | 78 | |
| | | | |
| 6 |r. | 57·2 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 72·5 | |
| | | | |
| 7 |r. | 54·5 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 71·6 | |
| | | | |
| 8 |r. | 50 | |
| | | | |
| 9 |No observation.| Very cold easterly wind. |
| | | | |
| 10 |r. | 43·7 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 55·4 | |
| | | | |
| 11 |r. | 41·9 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 59 | |
| | | | |
| 12 |r. | 41 | Sky not clear. |
| | | | |
| |s. | 64·4 | |
| | | | |
| 13 |r. | 41 | (Teléshera.) |
| | | | |
| 14 |r. | 43·7 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 64·4 | |
| | | | |
| 15 |r. | 46·4 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 57·2 | |
| | | | |
| 16 |r. | 50 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 63·5 | |
| | | | |
| 17 |r. | 50 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 64·4 | |
| | | | |
| 18 |r. | 48·2 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 65·3 | |
| | | | |
| 19 |r. | 46·4 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 64·4 | |
| | | | |
| 20 |r. | 55·4 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 64·4 | |
| | | | |
| 21 |r. | 54·5 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 72·5 | |
| | | | |
| 22 |r. | 45·5 | |
| | | | |
| 23 |r. | 53·6 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 71·6 | |
| | | | |
| 24 |r. | 54·5 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 72·5 | |
| | | | |
| 25 |r. | 52·7 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 73·4 | |
| | | | |
| 26 |r. | 59 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 69·8 | |
| | | | |
| 27 |No observation.| |
| | | | |
| 28 |r. | 54·5 | |
| | | | The sky at sunrise now in general overcast. |
| |s. | 74·3 | |
| | | | |
| 29 |r. | 59 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 77 | |
| | | | |
| 30 |r. | 56·3 | Very cold N.E. wind. |
| | | | |
| 31 |r. | 51·8 | The cold wind continuing. |
| | | | |
| |s. | 60·8 | |
| | | | |
|1851.| | | |
| Jan.| | | |
| | | | |
| 1 |r. | 48·2 | The same cold wind; it fell about an hour |
| | | | after sun-rise. |
| | | | |
| 2 |r. | 45·5 | Again the same cold N.E. wind; it abated about|
| | | | 7 p.m. |
| |s. | 60·8 | |
| | | | |
| 3 |r. | 48·2 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 60·8 | |
| | | | |
| 4 |r. | 51·8 | |
| | | | |
| 5 |r. | 51·8 | The sun generally overcast at sun-rise. |
| | | | |
| 6 |r. | 59 | |
| | | | The sky thickly clouded; light rain. |
| |s. | 66·2 | |
| | | | |
| 7 |r. | 60·8 | The sky thickly clouded; a few drops of rain. |
| | | | |
| |s. | 75·2 | |
| | | | |
| 8 |r. | 60·8 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 77 | |
| | | | |
| 9 |r. | 57·2 | |
| | | | |
| 10 |r. | 56·3 | |
| | | | |
| |s. | 69·8 | |
+-----+-------+-------+------------------------------------------------+
The few thermometrical observations made by Mr. Overweg differ partially
from mine owing to the different situations we gave to our thermometers.
I have always endeavoured to raise the thermometer five or six feet from
the ground, and to prevent its being influenced by any object. I have
always looked for the best shade. Overweg marks, under December 5, a
quarter of an hour before sunrise, 46·4, and at sunset 66·2; under
December 9, where I have made no observation, he gives 48·2 at sunrise,
and 59 at sunset. December 11, he gives 38·3 half an hour before
sunrise, and December 12, about the same time, 37·4.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
[Footnote 214: From this date forwards the observations were made a
quarter of an hour before sunrise (r.) and half an hour past sunset
(s.).]
Transcriber's note:
Dotless _yā’_ ى has been transcribed as _yā’_ ي.
Changes in the ERRATA have been done, as well as the following:
pg xxxi, Changed: "Interior of Agades." to: "Ágades"
pg xxxii, Changed: "Name of the the Hut" to: "Name of the Hut"
pg 2, Changed: "El Khíwn is said to have" to: "Khwín"
pg 17, Changed: "Mohammed Belāl" to: "Belál"
pg 19, Changed: "horsemen of the Urshefāna" to: "Urshefána"
pg 30, Changed: "village Kasr Shellūf" to: "Shellúf"
pg 40, Changed: "by Lasāba or el Asāba Arabs" to: "Lasába or el
Asába"
pg 40, Changed: "plain called el Gatīs" to: "Gatís"
pg 42, Changed: "attached to the Tahōna" to: "Tahóna"
pg 48, footnote 17, Changed: "E’ Sheikh e’ Tijāni" to: "Tijáni"
pg 48, footnote 17, Changed: "Ebn Khaldúm" to: "Khaldún"
pg 53, Changed: "a view of Sedi-ūris" to: "Sedi-úris"
pg 54, Changed: "points of the Tarhōna" to: "Tarhóna"
pg 78, Added ” after: "“Merkeb Sʿaid n ʿAli"
pg 130, Added ) after: "S(cythicæ"
pg 304, Changed: "several of of the Tinýlkum" to: "several of the
Tinýlkum"
pg 352, footnote 127, Changed: "من اهباد واهجراد ادى هلم" to:
"الاباء والاجداد الى"
pg 352, footnote 127, Changed: "فيه اجرا ودحزا" to: "ودخرا"
pg 403, Removed ” after: "Erárar-n-sákan,”"
pg 413, Changed: "Ánnur Karamí fron Aghwau" to: "from"
pg 517, Changed: "the camels, whch like it more" to: "which"
pg 557, Changed: "12th. Arrive at Marádi" to: "19th"
pg 561, Changed: "received such a remarkable nam was" to: "name"
pg 574, Changed: "[July] 7 — 4.45 a.m. — 6 ·5" to: "68·5" (or "67·5",
being "20°C" in German edit.)
Minor changes in punctuation have been done silently.
Other spelling inconsistencies have been left unchanged.
Underlined text is indicated with enclosing "~".Project Gutenberg
Travels and discoveries in North and Central Africa, Vol. 1 (of 5) : $b being a journal of an expedition undertaken under the auspices of H.B.M.'s Government, in the years 1849-1855
Barth, Heinrich
Chimera59
Graduate