II.
Yola, the capital of A’damáwa, lies four degrees to the south of Kuka, on the Fáro, in a marshy plain, which presents nothing attractive to the eye of an artist. Dr. Barth describes it as a large open place, consisting mainly of conical huts, surrounded by spacious court-yards, and even by corn-fields; only the houses of the governor and his brothers being built of clay. When he entered it, Lowel, the governor, was in his fields, and could not be seen; but on his return the travellers proceeded to his “palace” to pay their respects. They were not allowed an interview, however, until the following day, and then it was anything but satisfactory. The officer who had accompanied them from Kuka took the opportunity of delivering certain despatches; and as they proved displeasing to the governor, he immediately vented his wrath upon Dr. Barth, accusing him of treacherous intentions. The audience terminated in confusion, and next day but one, Dr. Barth was ordered to leave Yola, on the pretence that his sojourn there could not be allowed unless he obtained the authorization of the Sultan of Sokoto. He was suffering from fever, and the heat of the day was excessive, but at once made preparations for departure. Sitting firmly in his large Arab stirrups, and clinging to the pommel of his saddle, he turned his horse’s head towards Bornú, and, though he fainted twice, was soon invigorated by a refreshing breeze, which opportunely rose with healing on its wings.
But he was really ill when he arrived at Kúkáwa, and, unhappily, the rainy season had begun. During the night of the 3rd of August, the storm converted his sleeping apartment into a small lake, and his fever was seriously aggravated. The pools which formed in every nook and corner of the town were rendered pestiferous by the filth of all kinds which stagnated in them. He ought to have withdrawn to some healthier country, but, in order to pay the debts of the expedition and prepare for new explorations, was compelled to remain and sell the merchandise which had arrived in his absence. He made all haste, however, to discharge this duty; and when, early in September, the Government despatched a body of the Welád Shinán—Arab mercenaries whom they had enlisted—to reconquer the eastern districts of the province of Kánem, he attached himself to the expedition, accompanied by his fellow-traveller, Overweg.
In the course of this new journey they obtained another view of Lake Tchad, under peculiar circumstances. It was about seven o’clock in the morning. Far to their right, a whole herd of elephants, arranged in almost military array, like an army of rational beings, slowly proceeded to the water. In front appeared the males, as was evident from their size, in regular order; at a little distance followed the young ones; in a third line were the females; and the whole were brought up by five males of immense size. The latter, though the travellers were riding along quietly, and at a considerable distance, took notice of them, and some were seen throwing dust into the air; but no attempt was made to disturb them. There were altogether about ninety-six.
Barth and Overweg returned to Kúkáwa on the 14th of November, but ten days afterwards they again sallied forth, accompanying another warlike expedition, which had been ordered to march against Mánderá. It presented, however, few features of interest or importance. The indefatigable pioneers were back again in Kúkáwa on the 1st of February, 1852, and there they remained until the 1st of March. Though crippled by want of means, enfeebled by fever, and beset by a thousand difficulties, Dr. Barth resolved on continuing his work of exploration, and, on the 17th of March, entered into Bagirmi, a region never before visited by Europeans.
Bagirmi forms an extensive table-land, with an inclination towards the north, and an elevation of 900 to 1000 feet above the sea-level. It measures about 240 miles from north to south, and 150 from east to west. In the north lie some scattered mountain ranges, which separate the two basins of Lake Fittri and Lake Tchad. The chief products are sorghum, millet, sesamum, poa, wild rice, haricot beans, water-melons, citron, and indigo. Very little grain is cultivated. The population numbers about 1,500,000 souls.
On reaching the broad stream of the Koloko, Dr. Barth found that he was suspected of treacherous designs against the throne of Bagirmi, and the boatmen refused to ferry him across, unless he obtained the Sultan’s permission. Resolved not to be baffled on the threshold of his enterprise, he retraced his steps for about two miles, then turned to the north-east, and at Mili succeeded in effecting the passage of the river. The country through which he advanced was fertile and well cultivated; village succeeded village in an almost unbroken series; here and there groups of natives issued from the thick foliage; numerous herds of cattle were feeding in the rich green water-meadows, and among them birds of the most beautiful plumage, and of all descriptions and sizes, sported upon nimble wing. The gigantic pelican dashed down occasionally from some neighbouring tree; the marabout stood silent, with head between its shoulders, like a decrepit old man; the large-sized azure-feathered “dédegami” strutted proudly along after its prey, the plotus, and extended its long snake-like neck; and the white ibis searched eagerly for food, with various species of ducks, and numerous other lesser birds, in larger or smaller flights.
But an unexpected obstacle arrested his progress; an official arrived with an intimation that he could not be allowed to continue his advance without the formal consent of the supreme authority. He therefore sent forward a messenger with letters to the capital, and retraced his steps to Mili, to await his return. He had not long to wait. The messenger made his appearance on the following day, bearing a document with a large black seal, which directed him to proceed to Búgomán, a place higher up the river, until an answer could be obtained from the Sultan, who was then absent on a campaign in Gógomi. But on his arrival at Búgomán, the governor refused to receive him, and the unfortunate traveller was glad to find a resting-place at Bákadá. There he had time and opportunity to meditate on the vast numbers of destructive worms and ants which afflicted the land of Bagirmi; especially a terrible large black worm, as long as, but much bigger than, the largest of European grubs, which, in its millions, consumes an immense proportion of the produce of the natives. There is also an injurious beetle, yellow as to colour, and half an inch as to length; but the people of Bagirmi take their revenge upon this destroyer by eating him as soon as he has grown fat at their expense. As for the ants, both black and white, they are always and everywhere a scourge and a calamity. Of the termites, or so-called white ants, which, by the way, are not really ants, Dr. Barth had unpleasant experience. As early as the second day of his sojourn at Bákadá, he observed that they were threatening his couch, which he had spread on a mat of the thickest reeds, with total destruction. To circumvent their devices, he elevated it upon three large poles; but in two days’ time they had not only raised their entrenchments along the poles to the very top, but had eaten through mat and carpet, and accomplished much general depredation.
No reply arriving from the Sultan, Barth not unnaturally lost patience, and decided on quitting the inhospitable Bagirmi, and returning to Kúkáwa. But he was closely watched; and on arriving at Mili, was arrested by order of the governor, who took possession of his arms, his baggage, his watch, his papers, his compass, and his horse, and placed him in charge of a couple of sentinels. Happily, while at Bákadá he had made a powerful friend, who, making his appearance at Mili, interfered on his behalf, obtained the restoration of his property, and conducted him in person to Másená, the capital. There he was lodged in a clay house standing in an open courtyard, which was likewise fenced by a low clay wall. The house contained an airy front room, which he found very comfortable, and four small chambers at the back, useful for stowing away luggage and provisions.
Másená occupies a considerable area, the circumference of which measures about seven miles; but only about half this space is inhabited, the principal quarter being formed in the midst of the town on the north and west of the Sultan’s palace, while a few detached quarters and isolated yards lie straggling about as outposts. Its most distinctive feature is a deep trough-like bottom, running from east to west, which in the rainy season is filled with water, in the summer with verdure of the greatest luxuriance. To the south of this hollow, or bedá, lies the principal quarter, which, however, is by no means thickly inhabited. In the centre stands the palace; which is simply an irregular cluster of clay buildings and huts, surrounded by a wall of baked bricks. Generally speaking, the appearance of the town was one of decay and dilapidation; yet, as all the open grounds were enlivened with fresh green pasture, it was not deficient in a certain charm. There are no signs of industrial activity. The market-place is rather small, and without a single stall or shed. The chief feature of interest is the bedá, which is bordered on the south-west by picturesque groups of dúm-palms and other trees of fine foliage; while at the western end, as well as on the south-east, spreads a large tract of market-gardens.
In general, the houses are well built, and the thatched roofs are formed with care, and even with neatness; but the clay is not of a good kind for building, and the clay houses afford so little security from the rains, that most persons prefer to reside during that part of the year in huts of straw and reed.
While waiting the Sultan’s arrival, Dr. Barth’s time was chiefly occupied in defending himself against the attacks of the large black ant (Termes mordax). One day, in particular, he maintained a long and desperate encounter with a host of these voracious little insects. In a thick unbroken column, about an inch broad, they had marched over the wall of the courtyard, and entering the hall where he abode both day and night, advanced right upon the store-room. But his couch being in their way, they immediately assailed his own person, and compelled him to decamp. Assisted by his servants, he then fell upon the bandits, killing all the stragglers and foragers, and burning the main body of the army as it proceeded on its way. But fresh legions arrived on the scene of war, and it took a struggle of two hours’ duration thoroughly to break up their lines, and put them to flight.
The insects seemed to have been attracted by the corn which Dr. Barth had stored up. But it must be owned that, if inconvenient in one respect, their attacks are beneficial in another; for they destroy all kinds of vermin, mice included. And while they thus act as the “scavengers of the houses,” in many parts of Negroland they also render service through their very greediness in gathering what man would fain appropriate for himself. They lay in such considerable stores of corn, that the poor natives frequently dig out their holes in order to gain possession of their supplies.
It was on the 3rd of July that the Sultan appeared before the walls of his capital, escorted by about eight hundred cavalry. At the head of the cortége rode the lieutenant-governor, surrounded by a troop of cavaliers. Then came the Barma, followed by a man carrying a spear of ancient and peculiar shape, designed to represent the “fetish,” or idol of Kénga-Matáya, the original patrimony of the kings of Bagirmi. Next rode the Fácha, or commander-in-chief, who is the second person in the kingdom; and after him the Sultan himself, attired in a yellow burnous, and mounted on a grey charger, the points of which could hardly be seen owing to the amplitude of the war-trappings that hung about him. Nor was the head of his rider much more plainly visible, not only on account of the horsemen gathered round him, but more particularly owing to two umbrellas—one of green, the other of red—borne on each side of him by a couple of slaves.
Six slaves, their right arms clad in iron, fanned the magnificent prince with ostrich feathers attached to long poles, while round about him were gathered a motley array of his captains and courtiers, gay in burnouses of various colours, or in shirts of black or blue. Behind them followed the war-camel, bestridden by the drummer, Kodgánga, who made the echoes resound with the clang of a couple of kettle-drums, fastened on each side of the animal; and the charivari was swelled by the exertions of three musicians, two of whom played upon horns, and the third upon a bugle. Mention must be made of the long train of the Sultan’s female slaves, or favourites, forty-five in number, all mounted upon horseback, all dressed from head to foot in black cloth, and all guarded by a slave on either side. The procession was terminated by a train of eleven camels, carrying the baggage.
A day or two afterwards, an officer of the Sultan demanded Dr. Barth’s attendance at the palace. He hastened thither; and being admitted into an inner courtyard, found the courtiers sitting on either side of a door, which was protected by screenwork made of very fine reeds. Being desired to sit down, along with his companions, and ignorant whom he should address, he asked in a loud voice if the Sultan ’Abdel-Kadir were present. A clear voice, from behind the screen, answered that he was. When fully satisfied that he was addressing the prince, he proceeded to offer his respects, and present the compliments of the great and powerful British Government, which desired to be on terms of unity with so illustrious a prince. His speech, which he delivered in Arabic, was translated by an interpreter, and received a favourable reply. His presents also were accepted with satisfaction, and the audience ended. Next day he had a second audience, at which he expressed his desire to return to Kúkáwa. After some slight delay, he obtained the Sultan’s leave to depart, and was supplied with a camel and two horsemen to assist him on his journey. Well pleased with the result of his visit to Másená, after the inauspicious circumstances which had attended its commencement, he set out on his return to the capital of Bornú, and arrived there in safety on the 21st of August. He was glad to find Mr. Overweg in excellent spirits, for liberal supplies had been forwarded by the British Government, though looking physically weak and exhausted. The sheikh received him with great cordiality, and he enjoyed a degree of comfort and repose to which he had long been a stranger.
His business, however, was to explore unknown countries, and to open up new paths to the enterprise of commerce. Considering it almost impossible to penetrate southward, on account of the obstacles thrown in his way by the native princes, he meditated a journey westward in the hope of reaching the celebrated city of Timbúktu, at one time the centre of so many extravagant legends. The fulfilment of his projects was delayed by an unhappy calamity. During a short excursion in the neighbourhood of Kúkáwa, Mr. Overweg got wet, caught a chill, and was afterwards seized with a violent fever, which carried him off in a few hours (September 27th). He died, a martyr to science, and one of the many victims of African exploration, in his thirtieth year.
A delay of some weeks was the necessary result of this melancholy event; but Barth, though left alone, was not to be turned aside from the great object of all his labours. His gaze was directed towards the Niger—towards the terra incognita which lay between the route pursued by the French traveller, Caillé, and the region in which Lander and Major Clapperton had achieved so many important discoveries. His preparations completed, he took final leave of Kúkáwa on the 25th of November; and on the 9th of December had crossed the frontier of Háusa. On the 12th he directed his course towards the north-east, and the mountain region of Múniyo. The road waved, serpent-like, through a succession of valleys, the green sides of which were covered with groves and villages. Múniyo takes the form of a wedge, or triangle, the apex projecting towards the desert. The home of a peaceful and industrious population, who flourish under a mild and orderly government, it presents an agreeable contrast to the neighbouring territories, inhabited by nomads. Its rulers, men of courage and energy, have not only been able to defend their country against the attacks of the Babus, but to encroach upon the district of Diggéra, which had submitted to the latter. The chief of this independent province can bring into the field, it is said, an army of 1500 horse and 9000 or 10,000 archers; and his revenue amounts to 30,000,000 kurdi (about £6000) a year, without counting the tax which he levies on the crops.
Barth diverged somewhat to the westward in order to visit U’shek, the largest corn-producing district in western Bornú; it is characterized by a curious alternation of luxuriance and sterility. At the foot of a mountain lies a barren, desolate tract, on the very threshold of which lies an undulating country, bright with date-palms and tamarisks, with crystal pools and rich grasses. Around the town of U’shek spreads a glittering girdle of corn-fields, onion-beds, cotton-fields, in various stages of development. Here the labourer is breaking up the clods and irrigating the soil; there, his neighbour is weeding out his blooming crops. The vegetation everywhere is abundant. The accumulation of refuse prevents you, however, from gaining a general view of the village, which lurks in the sheltering folds of the soil; but the main group of houses surrounds the foot of an eminence, crowned by the habitation of the chief. Observe that while the huts are made of reeds and the stems of millet, the towers in which the grain is pounded are constructed of clay, and ten feet in height.
Beyond U’shek stretches a sandy table-land, waving with a dense growth of reeds, and intersected by fertile valleys. Then comes a spur of the mountain-range which rises in the south-west; an irregular and broken plain, carpeted with grass and broom; a jungle of mimosas, dense thickets of capparis, and at intervals small patches of cultivated land. The climate is intensely hot; the very soil seems to burn; and our traveller, feeling himself ill, was forced to rest. During the night, a cold north-east wind covered him and his followers with the feathery awns of the pennixtum; and they rose in the morning in a condition of indescribable uneasiness. The next night was also cold; but there was no wind.
At Badámuni, the fertile fields are brightened with springs, which feed a couple of lakes, connected by a canal. Notwithstanding this channel of intercommunication, one of these lakes is of fresh water; the other brackish, and strongly impregnated with natron. It is noticeable that in this region all the valleys and all the mountain-chains run from north-east to south-west, and the direction of the two lakes is the same. Their margin is fringed with papyrus, except that at the point where the water turns brackish the papyrus is succeeded by the kumba, the pith of which is edible. Dr. Barth’s two attendants, born on the shores of the Tchad, immediately recognized this species of reed as growing in a similar manner at the point where that great inland sea touches the basins of nature that surround it. It is a curious circumstance that while the lake of fresh water is of a bright blue, and calm and smooth as a mirror, the other is green as the sea, and heaves to and fro in constant commotion, rolling its foamy waves to the beach, which they strew with marine weeds.
The town of Zindu is protected by a rampart and ditch. Its aspect is remarkable: a mass of rock rises in the western quarter; and outside the walls stony ridges run in all directions, throwing forth a myriad crystal streams, which fertilize the tobacco-fields, and secure for the immediate neighbourhood an exceptional fertility. The landscape is enlivened by frequent clumps of date-palms and by the huts of the Touaregs, who conduct a brisk trade in salt. To the south extends an immense piece of ground, utilized, at the time of Dr. Barth’s visit, as a garden of acclimatization. It is easy, let us say, to define the ground-plan of Zindu, but not to depict the stir and movement of which it is the centre, limited as that activity may be, compared with the feverish and far-reaching life of the industrial centres of Europe. Zindu has no other manufacture than that of indigo; nevertheless, its commercial energy is so great that it may justly be termed “the port of the Soudan.”
Here Dr. Barth received the welcome supply of a thousand dollars, which, not to excite suspicion, had been carefully concealed in a couple of sugar barrels. He was enabled, therefore, to purchase the articles necessary for barter or gifts in his expedition to Timbúktu, such as red, white, and yellow burnouses, turbans, cloves, cutlery, beads, and looking-glasses; and on the 30th of January, 1853, he resumed his march.
The country he had to traverse was the scene of incessant warfare between the Fulbi and the independent tribes. At the outset he met with some salt merchants from A’ir, whose picturesque encampments would have delighted an artist’s eye, but did not add to the security of the roads. He arrived in safety, however, on the 5th of February, at Kátséna, and took up his quarters in a residence specially assigned to him. The house was spacious; but so full of ants, that, having rested himself for an hour on a bank of clay, he found that the freebooters had climbed the wall, constructed covered galleries right up to his person, and delivered a combined attack upon his shirt, in which they had eaten large holes.
The governor of Kátséna gave our traveller a courteous reception, and deigned to accept with evident satisfaction the burnouses, cafton, cup, two loaves of sugar, and pistol, which Dr. Barth offered him. The pistol gave him so much pleasure that he asked for a second; and, of course, a refusal was impossible. Thenceforth he ate and drank and walked and slept with his two pistols in his belt, and terrified everybody who approached him by snapping caps in their face. It happened that, at this time, the ghaladima of Sikoto, inspector of Kátséna, was in the town collecting tribute. He was a frank and simple-natured man, neither very generous nor very intelligent, but of benevolent disposition and sociable character. Dr. Barth purchased some silk and cotton stuffs from the looms of Mepè and Kanó, and being very anxious to pursue his journey, waited for the ghaladima to set out, in order to enjoy the advantage of his escort. It was on the 21st of March that this high official, accompanied by our traveller, took his departure. The governor attended them as far as the limits of his jurisdiction, and they had a numerous guard; while, as a further protection against mishaps, they steered to the south, instead of to the west, in which direction war was raging.
It was the happy time of spring; a bloom was on the earth, and a light and perfume in the air; nature put on her greenest attire; the alleluba, the parkia, the cucifera, the bombyx rose in masses of foliage. The country through which the travellers rode was fair and fertile, populous and well cultivated; the pastures echoed with the low of cattle; the fields rejoiced in profuse crops of yams and tobacco. In the district of Maja, cotton, indigo, potatoes were grown on a very large scale. Beyond Kuruyá, a town of 5000 to 6000 souls, the fertility of the land increased, if such increase were possible; the many-rooted banyan, or Indian fig-tree, displayed its colossal splendour:—
“Irregularly spread,
Fifty straight columns propped its lofty head;
And many a long depending shoot,
Seeking to strike its root,
Straight, like a plummet, grew towards the ground;
Some on the lower boughs, which curved their way,
Fixing their bearded fibres, round and round,
With many a ring and wild contortion wound;
Some to the passing wind, at times, with sway
Of gentle motion moving;
Others of younger growth, unmoved, were hung
Like stone-drops from the cavern’s fretted height.”
Bassiaparkia, sorghum, and millet were abundant. But at Kulfi the travellers reached the limit which divides the Mohammedans from the heathens—civilization (imperfect and undeveloped, if you will, but not wholly without a respect for law and order) and barbarism. As Dr. Barth advanced, he seemed to pass from spring to winter; cultivation disappeared; villages ruined and silent bore witness to the desolating work of war; and it was only by the cattle browsing in the scanty pastures that he knew the land was not entirely deserted. At Zekka, a town of some importance, with wall and ditch, he separated from the ghaladima, and, through a dense forest, pushed forward to the ruins of Moniya. He had intended to halt there, but an armed force had encamped at Moniya on the preceding evening, and he retreated into the shelter of the forest until the morning. A day’s march brought him to Zyrmi, a considerable town, the governor of which was formerly chief of the whole province of Zanfara.
On the 31st of March, he stood on the border of the Gúndúmi Desert, of the passage of which Major Clapperton has left so exciting a narrative. It is passable only by a forced march. Dr. Barth began by striking too far to the south, and lost valuable time in the midst of an impervious jungle. Recovering the direct track, he marched all that day, all that night, without seeing any sign of human life, and until the middle of the following day, when he met some horsemen who had been sent forward to meet him, with vessels of water. Two miles further, and he could see the village where the Emir Aliyú had pitched his camp; he was then at war with the people of Gober. For thirty hours he and his followers had marched without a halt; they were completely spent, and the men, in their absolute weariness, fell prostrate upon the ground. The intrepid Barth rallied his energies; his excitement dispelled the sense of fatigue; and he searched his baggage for some valuable gift to the Emir, who was to depart on the following day, for upon him and his favour the success of his enterprise wholly depended. The day glided by, and he had begun to despair of being admitted to an audience; but in the evening the Emir sent him an ox, four fat sheep, and four hundred parcels of rice, and a message to the effect that he awaited his visit. It must be owned that some of these barbaric potentates do things right royally!
Dr. Barth entered the august presence. The Emir immediately seized him by the hand, made him sit down, and interrupted him when he began to excuse himself for not having visited Sokotó before he went to Kúkáwa. His two requests, for the Emir’s safe-conduct as far as Timbúktu, and a royal letter guaranteeing the lives and property of Englishmen visiting his territories, he received very favourably; affirming that his sole thought was for the welfare of humanity, and, consequently, he desired to promote the friendly intercourse of all nations. Next day Barth had another interview, and offered a second supply of presents. He describes the Emir as a strongly built man, of average stature, with a round, full, but not unpleasant face.
On the 4th of April, with the royal letter, of which he had dictated the terms, and a hundred thousand kurdis which the prince had generously sent to him to defray his expenses during his absence, he took up his residence at Vurno, the Emir’s usual abode. The unsavoury condition of the town, which was traversed by a cloaca more disgusting even than those of Italy, surprised and shocked him. Outside the walls, the Gulbi-n-rima formed several basins of stagnant water in the middle of a plain, where the traveller’s camels sadly pined for pasture. The frontiers of three provinces—Kebbi, Adar, and Gober—meet in this arid plain, which, however, after the rainy season, wears a completely different aspect.
The town became more and more deserted; daily its notables departed to join the Emir; though, as a rule, these warriors cared only for their own pleasure, and would sell their weapons for a dram of kola-nut wine. In no part of Negroland did Dr. Barth see less military ardour or more physical depression. Meanwhile, he amused himself by collecting topographical details, studying the history of the country, and making excursions in the neighbourhood; among others to Sokotó, on the river Bugga. It was not until the 23rd of April that the Emir returned to his capital, after an expedition which, if not glorious, had been at least successful. Always generous towards Dr. Barth, he had invited him to meet him, and king and traveller went together to the palace. On the same day, Barth made him a present of a musical box, which appears to be the prize most eagerly coveted by African potentates. The Emir, in his rapture, summoned his grand vizier to see and hear the marvel; but the mysterious box, affected by the climate and the length of the journey it had undergone, refused to pour forth its melodious treasures. However, after a day or two’s labour, Dr. Barth succeeded in repairing it, and releasing its imprisoned streams of music. Who shall describe the Emir’s excess of joy? He proved the sincerity of his gratitude by immediately giving Dr. Barth a commendatory letter to his nephew, the chief of Gando, and the long-expected permission to depart.
Leaving Vurno on the 8th of May, Dr. Barth reached Gando on the 17th. It was the capital of another Fulbi chief, scarcely less powerful than the Emir, whose protection was of the greatest importance to the traveller, because both banks of the Niger were within his territory. It was not obtained without persevering effort—and many gifts, besides frequent bribes to an Arab consul, who had contrived to make himself indispensable to the feeble prince.
On the 4th of June our indefatigable explorer entered the deep valleys of Kebbi, which, in the rainy season, are converted into extensive rice-fields. At Kombara, the governor hospitably sent him all the constituents of a first-class Soudanian repast, from the sheep to the grains of salt and the Dodua cake. Gaumaché, formerly a thriving town, is now a village of slaves. A similarly fatal change has passed over Yara; formerly rich and industrious, rank weeds now grow in its silent streets. But life and death lie cheek by jowl in these fertile regions; and to the ruined towns and deserted villages immediately succeed prolific rice-fields, shaded by clumps of trees.
The whole country was overshadowed by the thunder-clouds of war; yet the traveller passed continuously through plantations of yams, and cotton, and papyrus, whose fresh green foliage waved above the walls. He halted at Kola, where the governor could dispose of seventy matchlocks and the men who handled them; an important personage in the disturbed condition of the country, whom it was politic to visit. The sister of this lord of warriors presented Dr. Barth with a fine fat goose—an addition to his dietary which rejoiced him greatly. As he approached Jogirma, the three sons of its chief came forth to salute him in their father’s name. It proved to be a much more considerable town than the traveller had expected, and the palace was a spacious and even imposing building, in its architecture recalling the characters of the Gothic style. The population numbered seven to eight thousand souls, whom civil discord had reduced to a pitiful extremity. It was with no little difficulty that Dr. Barth obtained even a supply of millet.
On the 10th he entered a beautiful forest, where the air was heavy with the sweet odours of flowering trees; but the place is noted for its insalubrity. Dr. Barth was compelled to remain there for twenty-four hours, one of his camels having gone astray; and this circumstance appeared so extraordinary, that the neighbouring peasants were in the habit of referring to him as “the man who passed a whole day in the deadly desert.”
On a quadrangular eminence, about thirty feet high, in the valley of Fogha—an eminence built up of refuse—stands a village with some resemblance to the ancient town of Assyria. The inhabitants extract salt from the black mud out of which their little hillock rises. There are other villages of a similar character. The condition of the population is most wretched; they suffer continually from the forays of the robbers of Dendina.
After a march of two or three miles over a rocky soil, sprinkled with bushes and brushwood, Dr. Barth, with intense satisfaction, caught the glimmer of water, as if the sun were lighting up a broad mirror, and rapidly pushing forward, came, in an hour’s time, to Say, a ferry on the great river of the Soudan—the river which has divided with the Nile the curiosity of geographers, and attracted the enterprise of the adventurous; the river which, perhaps, surpasses the Nile in its promise of future commercial industry; the river which we associate with the names of so many heroic travellers, from Mungo Park to Cameron,—the Niger.