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to their assistance in a moment, their company was not so agreeable
as under other circumstances it might have been. The reason,
however, why they behaved so inhospitably towards me evidently
was, that they took me for an officer of the king of Bórnu: but this
impression gave way the longer they observed my manners and
things; indeed, as soon as they saw the tent, they became aware
that it was not a tent like those of their enemies, and they came to
the same conclusion with regard to the greater part of my luggage. In
many places in Negroland I observed that the bipartite tent-pole was
a most wonderful object to the natives, and often served to
characterize the Christian. This time, however, we did not come to
friendly terms; but the reader will be gratified to see how differently
these people treated me on my return from Fúmbiná.
While our party was rather quietly and sullenly sitting near the tent,
a number of Fúlbe, who had been staying in this district for some
time, came to pay their respects to me. They were a very diminutive
set of people, and, excepting general traits of resemblance and
language, were unlike those proud fellow countrymen of theirs in the
west; but I afterwards found that the Fúlbe in the eastern part of
Ádamáwa are generally of this description, while those about the
capital have a far more noble and dignified appearance. I think this
may be not so much a mark of a difference of tribe, as a
consequence of the low circumstances of those settled at a great
distance from the seat of government, who, being still engaged in
struggling for their subsistence, have not raised themselves from
their original condition of humble cattle-breeders, or “berroróji,” to the
proud rank of conquerors and religious reformers. Their colour
certainly was not the characteristic rhubarb-colour of the Fúta Púllo,
nor the deep black of the Toróde, but was a greyish sort of black,
approaching what the Frenchmen call the chocolat-au-lait colour,
while their small features wanted the expressiveness which those of
the light Púllo generally have. They all wore shirts, which however
were deficient in that cleanliness which in general is characteristic of
this race. These simple visitors might perhaps have proved very
interesting companions, if we had been able to understand each
other; but as they spoke neither Arabic, nor Háusa, nor Kanúri, while
I was but a beginner in their language, our conversation flowed but
sluggishly.
I had observed in all the dwellings of the natives a very large
species of fish laid to dry on the roofs of the huts; and being not a
little astonished at the existence of fish of such a size in this district,
where I was not aware that there existed any considerable waters, I
took the earliest opportunity of inquiring whence they were brought,
and, having learnt that a considerable lake was at no great distance,
I intimated to Bíllama my wish to visit it. I therefore mounted on
horseback with him in the afternoon, and then passing behind the
eastern quarter of Íssege, and crossing a tract covered with excellent
herbage, but so full of holes and crevices that the horses had great
difficulty in getting over it, we reached a fine sheet of water of
considerable depth, stretching from west to east, and full of large
fish. All along the way we were met by natives returning from fishing,
with their nets and their spoil. The fish measure generally about
twenty inches in length, and seem to be of the same kind as that
caught in the Tsád. The banks of the water, except on the west side,
where we stood, were so hemmed in with rushes that I could not
form a satisfactory estimate of its magnitude and real character; but
it seems to be a hollow which is filled by the rivulet or torrent which I
surveyed in its upper course the following day, and which seems to
pass at a short distance to the east of this lake. The latter, however,
is said always to contain water, which, as far as I know, is not the
case with the river; but certainly even the lake must become much
shallower in the dry season.
A small torrent joins the lake near its south-western corner; and on
the banks of this torrent I observed a rounded mass of granite rising
to the height of about fifteen feet, this being the only eminence in the
whole plain. Though it was not elevated enough to allow me a fair
survey of the plain itself, it afforded a splendid and interesting
panorama of the mountains. The whole range of mountains, which
forms the western barrier of the little country of Wándalá, lay open
before me at the distance of about twenty miles, while behind it,
towards the south, mountains of more varied shape, and greater
elevation, became more visible. It was here that I obtained the first
view of Mount Méndefi, or Míndif, which, since it was seen by Major
Denham on his adventurous expedition against some of the Felláta
settlements to the south of Morá, has become so celebrated in
Europe, giving rise to all sorts of conjectures and theories. It might,
indeed, even from this point be supposed to be the centre of a
considerable mountain mass, surrounded as it is by several other
summits of importance, particularly the Mechíka and Umshi, whilst it
is in reality nothing more than a detached cone starting up from a
level plain, like the Mount of Mbutúdi on a smaller scale, or that of
Tákabéllo, with both of which Íbrahíma used to compare it, or the
Alantíka on a larger scale. Its circumference at the base certainly
does not exceed probably from ten to twelve miles, as it is partly
encompassed by the straggling village of the same name, which
seems to stretch out to a considerable length, or rather to be
separated into two or three distinct clusters. The place has a market
every Friday, which is of some importance.
From my position the top of the mount presented the shape here
delineated; and even through the telescope the Míndif, as well as the
singular mount of Kamálle, of which I shall soon have to speak,
seemed to be of a whitish or greyish colour, which led me to the
conclusion that it consisted of a calcareous rock. It was not till a
much later period that I learnt, from a native of the village of Míndif,
that the stone was originally quite black, not only on the surface, but
all through, and extremely hard, and that the white colour is merely
due to immense numbers of birds, which habitually frequent it, being
nothing else than guano. I think, therefore, that this mount will
eventually prove to be a basaltic cone, an ancient volcano—a
character which seems to be indicated by the double horn of its
summit. Its height scarcely exceeds five thousand feet above the
surface of the sea, or less than four thousand feet above the plain
from which it rises.
But while my attention was engaged by this mountain, on account
of its having been so much talked of in Europe, another height
attracted my notice much more, on account of its peculiar shape.
This was Mount Kamálle, which just became visible behind the
continuous mountain-chain in the foreground, like a columnar pile
rising from a steep cone; it likewise seemed of a greyish colour.
Between this remarkable peak and Mount Míndif several cones were
descried from a greater distance, while west from the latter mountain
the elevated region seemed to cease.
The highest elevation of the Wándalá range, which is called
Magár, I estimated at about three thousand feet, while the chain in
general did not rise more than two thousand five hundred feet above
the level of the sea, or about one thousand five hundred feet above
the plain. This part of the mountain-chain forms the natural
stronghold of a pagan king whom my Kanúri companion constantly
called “Mai Sugúr,” but whose proper name or title seems to be “Lá.”
Overjoyed at having at length reached the region of the famous
Míndif, and full of plans for the future, I remounted my horse. While
returning to our encampment, my companion, who was altogether a
sociable and agreeable sort of person, gave me some more
information with regard to the Marghí, whom he represented as a
numerous tribe, stronger even at the present time than the Manga,
and capable of sending thirty thousand armed men into the field. He
told me that it was their peculiar custom to mourn for the death of a
young man, and to make merry at the death of an old one—an
account which I found afterwards confirmed, while his statement that
they buried the dead in an upright position together with their
weapons, furniture, and some paste of Indian corn, did not prove
quite correct. In many respects they claim great superiority over their
neighbours; and they practise even to a great extent inoculation for
small-pox, which in Bórnu is rather the exception than the rule.
Fortunately for us in our out-of-doors encampment, the sky
remained serene; and while, after a very frugal supper, we were
reclining on our mats in the cool air of the evening, an interesting
and animated dispute arose between Bíllama, Mʿallem Katúri, and
Mohámmedu—the Ádamáwa messenger whom I have represented
above as a very communicative, sociable person—about the water
of Íssege, whence it came, and whither it flowed. Mohámmedu, who
notwithstanding his intelligence and sprightliness was not free from
absurd prejudices, contended, with the utmost pertinacity, that the
water in question issued from the river Bénuwé at Kobére and ran
into the Sháry, a river with which he was acquainted only by hearsay.
But my prudent and experienced old Mʿallem contested this point
successfully, demonstrating that the river rose in the mountains far to
the north of the Bénuwé. Thus we spent the evening quite cheerfully;
and the night passed without any accident, all the people sleeping in
a close circle round my tent.
Monday, June 9.—At an early hour we set out on our journey,
being joined by several of the Fúlbe, who had come the day before
to salute me, while only one of our caravan remained behind, namely
the horseman of Malá Ibrám. This whole district had formerly
belonged to the last-named person; but he had lately ceded it to
Abú-Bakr, the son of Sheikh ʿOmár: but we have seen what a
precarious possession it was. The country through which we passed
was varied and fertile, although the sky was overcast; and I was
struck with the frequency of the poisonous euphorbia, called
“karúgu” by the Kanúri. Further on, the crop stood already a foot
high, and formed a most pleasant object. We then entered a dense
forest, where the danger became considerable, an evident proof of
the lawless state of the country being seen in the village Yésa, which
was in some degree subject (“imána,” as the people call it, with an
Arabic name) to the Sheikh ʿOmár, but had been ransacked and
burnt about forty days previously by the tribe of the Gulúk. It was the
first village on this road the huts of which were entirely of the
construction called by the Kanúri “bóngo.”
Having stopped here a few minutes to allow the people to recruit
themselves, we pushed on with speed, and soon passed the site of
another village, which had been destroyed at an earlier period,
having close on our left a fertile plain in a wild state, over which the
mountain chain was still visible, with a glance now and then at the
Míndif and Kamálle. Suddenly there was visible on this side a river
from thirty to forty yards broad, and enclosed by banks about twelve
feet high, with a considerable body of water, flowing through the fine
but desolate plain in a northerly direction, but with a very winding
course and a moderate current; and it henceforth continued on our
side,—sometimes approaching, at others receding, and affording an
agreeable cool draught, instead of the unwholesome stagnant water
from the pools, impregnated with vegetable matter, and very often
full of worms, and forming certainly one of the chief causes of
disease to the foreign traveller. In this part of the forest the karáge
was the most common tree, while besides it there was a
considerable variety,—the tosó or kadeña, the koráwa, the kabúwi,
the zíndi, and the acacia-like paipáya; the fruit of the tóso, or rather
its thin pulp, and the beautiful cream-fruit of the gónda-bush (Annona
palustris?) remaining our favourite dainties.
Suddenly the spirit of our little troop was roused; some naked
pagans were discovered in the bushes near the stream, and so long
as it was uncertain whether or not they were accompanied by a
greater number, my companions were in a state of fright; but as soon
as it was ascertained that the black strangers were but few, they
wanted to rush upon and capture them as slaves; but Íbrahíma, with
a dignified air, cried out, “Imána, imána,” intimating that the tribe was
paying tribute to his master the governor of Yóla; and whether it was
true or not, certainly he did well to keep these vagabonds from
preying upon other people while their own safety was in danger.
At a quarter past eleven o’clock we reached the outskirts of Kófa,
a village, which had been ransacked and destroyed entirely by
Kashélla ʿAli,—the very act which had given rise to the complaints
on the side of the governor of Ádamáwa, who claimed the
supremacy over this place. Several huts had been already built up
again very neatly of bongo; for this had now become the general
mode of architecture, giving proof of our advancing into the heart of
the tropical climes. And as the dwellings were again rising, so the
inhabitants were likewise returning to their hearths.
A most interesting and cheerful incident in these unfortunate and
distracted lands, where the traveller has every day to observe
domestic happiness trodden under foot, children torn from the
breasts of their mothers, and wives from the embraces of their
husbands, was here exhibited before us. Among the people
recovered from slavery by Íbrahíma’s exertions was a young girl, a
native of this village, who, as soon as she recognized the place from
which she had been torn, began to run as if bewildered, making the
circuit of all the huts. But the people were not all so fortunate as to
see again those whom they had lost; there were many sorrowful
countenances among those who inquired in vain for their sons or
daughters. However, I was pleased to find that Bíllama was saluted
in a friendly way by the few inhabitants of the place, proving, as I
thought, that, when governor of this southernmost district of Bórnu,
he had not behaved so cruelly.
The country hereabouts showed a far more advanced state of
vegetation than that from whence we had come, the young succulent
grass reaching to the height of a foot and a half, while the corn
(dáwa, or holcus) in one field measured already thirty inches in
height. The fresh meadow grounds were interspersed with flowers;
and a beautiful specimen of the “kangel,” measuring eight inches in
diameter, was brought to me by Bíllama, being the only specimen
which I have ever observed of this peculiar flower. Mr. Vogel,
however, told me afterwards that he had occasionally observed it in
Mándará (Wándalá).
Having dismounted under a tamarind-tree for the hot hours of the
day, Bíllama, with the assistance of my old Mʿallem, gave me a list of
some of the larger places in the Marghí country. West-south-west
from the Marghí live the Bábur or Bábir, scattered in small hamlets
over a mountainous basaltic district, with the exception of their
principal seat Biyú, which is called after the name, or probably rather
the title, of their chief. This place is said to be as far from Kófa as
Kúkawa is from the same place, and is reported to be of large size.
The Bábur have in certain respects preserved their independence,
while in others, like the Marghí, they have begun to yield to the
overwhelming influence of their Mohammedan neighbours. But the
Marghí claim superiority over their kinsmen in point of personal
courage; for of their relationship there can be no doubt.
When the sun began to decline, we pursued our march, in order to
reach Laháula, where we were to pass the night. The unsafe state of
the country through which we were passing was well indicated by the
circumstance that even the circumspect Íbrahíma mounted the poor
mare given to him by Sheikh ʿOmár, which he had spared till now.
He moreover exchanged his bow for a spear. A thick tempest was
gathering on the Wándalá mountains, while our motley troop wound
along the narrow path,—at times through forest or underwood, at
others through fine cornfields; but the country afforded a wilder and
more varied aspect after we had crossed a little watercourse,—rocks
projecting on all sides, sandstone and granite being intermixed, while
in front of us a little rocky ridge, thickly overgrown with trees and
bushes, stretched out, and seemed to hem in our passage.
Suddenly, however, a deep recess was seen opening in the ridge,
and a village appeared, lying most picturesquely in the natural
amphitheatre, thus formed by the rocks and trees protruding
everywhere from among the granite blocks, and giving a pleasant
variety to the whole picture.
This was Laháula; but we had some difficulty in getting into it, the
entrance to the amphitheatre being closed by a strong stockade,
which left only a very narrow passage along the cliffs on the eastern
side, not nearly large enough for camels; and while our troop,
pushing forward in vain, fell into great confusion, the storm came on,
and the rain poured down upon us in torrents. Fortunately, the
shower, although heavy, did not last long, and we succeeded at
length in getting in, and soon reached the first huts of the village; but
our reception was not propitious. The first person who came to meet
us was a mother, roused by the hope of seeing her son return as a
free man from Kúkawa, where he had been carried into slavery, and
filling the whole village with her lamentations and curses of the
Kanúri, when she heard that her beloved had not come back, and
that she should never see him again. This of course made a bad
impression upon the inhabitants, and while ʿAshi, their chief, a man
who, after an unsuccessful struggle with my companion Bíllama,
when governor of these districts, had submitted to the sheikh,
received us with kindness and benevolence, his son, in whose
recently and neatly built hut the old man wished to lodge me, raised
a frightful alarm, and at length, snatching up his weapon, ran off with
the wildest threats. I therefore thought it best not to make use of the
hut unless forced by another storm, and notwithstanding the
humidity, I took up my quarters under a shed before the hut,
spreading my carpet and jirbíye—woollen blanket from Jirbi—over a
coarse mat of reed, as unfortunately at that time I had no sort of
couch with me. There was an object of very great interest in our
courtyard. It was a large pole about nine feet high above the ground,
with a small cross pole which sustained an earthen pot of middling
size. This was a “sáfi,” a sort of fetish, a symbolic representation, as
it seems, of their god “féte,” the sun. It was a pity that we were not
placed in a more comfortable position, so as to be enabled to make
further inquiries with regard to this subject.
ʿAshi was kind enough to send me a large bowl of honey-water,
but I was the only one of the caravan who received the least proof of
hospitality; and I made myself quite comfortable, though we thought
it best to look well after our firearms. During the night we were
alarmed by a great noise, proceeding from the frightful shrieks of a
man; and, on inquiry, we found that he had been disturbed in his
sleep by a hyæna catching hold of one of his legs. Íbrahíma
informed us the next morning, that a very large party among the
inhabitants had entertained the design of falling during the night
upon our troop and plundering us; and that nothing but the earnest
representations of ʿAshi had restrained them from carrying out their
intention,—the old man showing them how imprudent it would be, by
one and the same act to draw upon themselves the vengeance of
their two overwhelming neighbours, the sheikh of Bórnu in the north,
and the governor of Fúmbiná in the south. Altogether the night was
not very tranquil; and a storm breaking out at some distance, I crept
into the hut, but there was no rain, only thunder and lightning. All the
huts here are provided with a serír, or diggel, made of branches,
upon which a coarse mat of reeds is spread.
The village seems not to be very large, containing certainly not
more than about five hundred single huts, but the situation is very
advantageous, enabling the inhabitants in an instant to retire upon
the natural fortress of blocks overhead. They possess scarcely a
single cow, but seem to prepare a great deal of vegetable butter. At
least large heaps of the chestnut-like kernels of the Bassia Parkii
were lying about in the courtyards. They have also a great deal of
excellent honey.
Tuesday, June 10.—Leaving our quarters early, and emerging
from the rocky recess by the same opening through which we had
entered it the preceding evening, we halted a short time in order that
the whole caravan might form closely together, for we had now the
most dangerous day’s march before us, where stragglers are
generally slain or carried into slavery by lurking enemies. Our whole
troop was not very numerous, consisting of five horsemen and about
twenty-five armed men on foot, with three camels, six sumpter-oxen,
and three asses, our strength consisting entirely in my four muskets
and four pairs of pistols. It was a very fine morning, and after the last
night’s storm the whole country teemed with freshness and life.
Moreover, it was of a varied nature, the ground consisting, at times,
of bare granite, with large blocks of quartz, at others covered with
black vegetable soil, with ironstone here and there, and torn by
numerous small periodical watercourses descending from the rocky
chain on our right, and carrying the moisture of the whole region
towards the river, which still flowed on the left of our track; while
granite-blocks and small ridges projected everywhere, the whole
clothed with forest more or less dense, and with a great variety of
foliage. Having kept on through this kind of country for about two
miles and a half, we reached the deserted “ngáufate,” or
encampment of Bú-Bakr, a brother of Mohammed Láwl, the governor
of Ádamáwa, who had last year made an expedition into these
districts, and stationing his army on this spot, had overrun the
country in all directions. The encampment consisted of small round
huts made of branches and grass, such as the guro-caravan
generally erects daily on its “zango” or halting-place. Here we began
to quicken our pace, as we were now at the shortest distance from
the seats of the Báza, a powerful and independent pagan tribe, with
a language, or probably dialect, of their own, and peculiar customs,
who live at the foot of the eastern mountain-chain, while we left on
our right Kibák and some other Marghí villages. In order to lessen a
little the fatigue of the march, my attentive companion Bíllama
brought me a handful of “gaude,” a yellow fruit of the size of an
apricot, with a very thick peel, and, instead of a rich pulp, five large
kernels filling almost the whole interior, but covered with a thin pulp
of a very agreeable taste, something like the gónda.
At half-past nine, when the forest was tolerably clear, we obtained
a view of a saddle-mount at some distance on our right, on the other
side of which, as I was informed, the village Womde is situated:
further westward lies Úgu, and, at a still greater distance, Gáya.
Meanwhile we pushed on with such haste—the old Mʿallem and Bú-
Sʿad, on horseback, driving my two weak camels before them as fast
as they could—that the line of our troop became entirely broken; the
fatáki, or tugúrchi, with their pack-oxen, and several of the
dangarúnfu—namely the little tradesmen who carry their small
parcels of merchandise on the head—remaining a great distance
behind; but although I wished several times to halt, I could not
persuade my companions to do so; and all that I was able to do for
the safety of the poor people who had trusted themselves to my
protection, was to send Bíllama to the rear with orders to bring up
the stragglers. I shall never forget the euphonious words of the old
Mʿallem with which he, though usually so humane, parried my
entreaties to give the people time to come up; mixing Háusa with
Kanúri, he kept exclaiming, “Awennan karága babu dádi” (“This is by
no means a pleasant forest”), while he continued beating my poor
camels with his large shield of antelope’s hide. At length, having
entered a very dense thicket, where there was a pond of water, we
halted for a quarter of an hour, when Bíllama came up with the rear,
bringing me, at the same time, a splendid little gónda-fruit, which he
knew I was particularly fond of.
Continuing then our march with our wonted expedition, we
reached a little before one o’clock cultivated fields, where the slaves
—“field hands,” as an American would say—of the people of Úba
were just resting from their labour in the shade of the trees. As the
slaves of Mohammedans, they all wore the leathern apron. Here we
began to ascend, having a small rocky eminence on our right, and a
more considerable one on our left, while in the distance, to the west,
various mountain groups became visible. This line of elevation might
seem to form the water partition between the basin of the Tsád and
that of the Great River of Western Africa, but I am not sure of it, as I
did not become distinctly aware of the relation of the rivulet of Múbi
to that of Báza.
Be this as it may, this point of the route probably attains an
elevation of about two thousand feet, supposing that we had
ascended about eight hundred feet from Ujé, the elevation of which
is twelve hundred feet above the level of the sea. Having then
crossed, with some difficulty, on the part of the camels, a rugged
defile, enclosed by large granite blocks, we began to descend
considerably, while Mohámmedu drew my attention to the tree called
“bijáge” in Fulfúlde, which grows between the granite blocks, and
from which the people of Fúmbiná prepare the poison for their
arrows. However I was not near enough to give even the most
general account of it; it seemed to be a bush of from ten to twelve
feet in height, with tolerably large leaves of an olive colour.
Emerging from this rocky passage, we began gradually to overlook
the large valley stretching out to the foot of the opposite mountain
chain, which seemed from this place to be uninterrupted. Its general
elevation appeared to be about eight hundred feet above the bottom
of the valley. We then again entered upon cultivated ground, and
turning round the spur of the rocky chain on our right, on the top of
which we observed the huts of the pagans, we reached the wall of
Úba at two o’clock in the afternoon.
The eastern quarter of this town, the northernmost Púllo
settlement in Ádamáwa on this side, consisting of a few huts
scattered over a wide space, has quite the character of a new and
cheerless colony in Algeria; the earthen wall is low, and
strengthened with a light double fence of thorn bushes. The western
quarter, however, is more thickly and comfortably inhabited; and
each cluster of huts, which all consist of bongo, or rather búkka
bongo, “jwarubokáru,” is surrounded with a little corn-field. It was
pleasant to observe how the fences of mats, surrounding the yards,
had been strengthened and enlivened by young living trees of a
graceful slender appearance, instead of dull stalks, giving to the
whole a much more cheerful character than is generally the case
with the villages in other parts of Negroland, particularly in Bórnu
proper, and promising in a short time to afford some cool shade,
which is rather wanting in the place.
Passing the mosque, the “judírde,” a spacious quadrangular
building, consisting entirely of halls built of mats and stalks, which
must be delightfully cool in the dry season, but extremely damp
during the rains, and including a large open space, we reached the
lamórde (the house of the governor, or lámido); it lies on one side of
a small square, or “belbel.” Bíllama and Bú-Sʿad having here fired a
couple of rounds, we were soon shown into our quarters. These
were of rather an indifferent description, but lying at the northern
border of the inhabited quarter, and not far from the foot of the rocky
ridge, they had the advantage of allowing us freedom of movement.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
ÁDAMÁWA.—MOHAMMEDAN SETTLEMENTS IN
THE HEART OF CENTRAL AFRICA.