A Scene just Outside the Walls of Timbuctu
These natives are Sonrhais who have brought milk for sale. Herds of cows, also sheep and goats, are kept on the banks of the Niger, five miles from Timbuctu, and it is the custom when they are giving plenty of milk to bring it daily to Timbuctu for sale.
Some of the wells are very deep, going down as much as seventy metres. The water is very good, however, and is seldom filtered. After presenting myself to the Commandant I was shown to the house of the military officer administering the district where I was to stay. My host, Captain Ferrière, was most thoughtful and obliging during my sojourn at Timbuctu, and I look back with pleasure to the pleasant days I spent with him.
I was much disappointed to hear that there was no possibility of being able to cross the Sahara from Timbuctu direct, as I had arranged. It appeared that, owing to some raiding bands of Southern Morocco having descended recently through the very country by which I wanted to pass, the guides were afraid to go that way. In addition the heat had this year been more severe than usual, and many wells were dry. At one stage it was necessary to march ten days without water. This being the case, I had to abandon all idea of starting the desert journey from Timbuctu, as I had intended, for to cross the Sahara without a guide is an absolute impossibility.
There was an alternative route open to me, however; this debouched from Gao, a place 270 miles further down the Niger, and was considerably to the east of the route I had proposed to take from Timbuctu. In addition to the annoyance of having to alter my plans, I was now somewhat what anxious whether I should be able to arrive in England by the date my leave expired, for my journey would now be lengthened by some 700 miles altogether. I was further delayed a few days at Timbuctu before transport could be arranged for me to go down the river to Gao. I was told that I could have a steel canoe or a barge, but the former was much faster although not so comfortable. Before deciding it was suggested that I should take an experimental trip in the steel canoe, as the motion in these craft is rather pronounced and has the effect of making some people sea-sick!
On Sunday morning two French officers and I, having arranged a shooting picnic on the river, embarked on the steel canoe. This particular canoe was built expressly light to carry mails rapidly between Kabara and the down-river ports. She was rather narrow in the beam, and travelled at a great pace when propelled by her six paddlers. For the first half-hour I did not feel much inconvenience, but after this the violent rocking motion made me feel very uncomfortable; besides, owing to the constant shaking, reading or writing was out of the question. Finally, I must acknowledge that, on the return journey, I succumbed, and, indeed, so bad was I that I had a violent attack of fever before I got ashore. On landing, the transport officer at Kabara very kindly gave me a bed in his house, with plenty of blankets and quinine, so that by the next day I was much better. But this experience with the steel canoe decided me against that particular form of conveyance, and, at the risk of taking a few days longer on the journey, I gave an unhesitating vote for the barge!
During my enforced stay at Timbuctu I had ample leisure to explore the sights of the place. I was introduced to an interesting Frenchman, who is popularly known to his friends and the natives as Yakubu. Yakubu had the reputation, which he thoroughly deserved, of knowing more about Timbuctu than any man. He had previously been a Roman Catholic Father in the town, but some years ago had given up mission work for private life. He now taught native children purely from a love of teaching. Besides his knowledge of Timbuctu, he had an intimate acquaintance with Bambaras and Sonrhais and their languages, which he spoke fluently. It was with “Père” Yakubu that I made my tour of exploration in the city.
Timbuctu and the exploration of Africa during last century are very intimately connected. Most of the principal explorers of that time paid a visit to this historic city. This was perhaps all the more natural as, at that period, the course of the Niger was a problem which puzzled everyone, and many of these travellers had in view the exploration of that river. At Timbuctu are to be seen the houses of most of these explorers, which have been identified by the French since their occupation and kept by them in a good state of repair.
Starting with the earliest date comes the house of a fellow-countryman, Major Laing. This British officer made an adventurous journey in 1826 from Morocco to Timbuctu, through the Sahara Desert, and through a land peopled with lawless fanatical Mohammedans. He accomplished the journey there without mishap, but on his return by the same route he was waylaid and killed in the desert, north of Timbuctu. He is said to have been killed by the Kountah Arabs, who inhabit a portion of the Sahara north of the town; but it is a point difficult to prove. Some people say that the present chief of the Kountahs has actually in his possession Laing’s diary and papers, which were never recovered,[1] but that he is now afraid of restoring them to the French for fear of punishment. If this is the case it must have been the present chief’s grandfather who was responsible for the deed. The next traveller to pass that way was Réné Caillé, a Frenchman, and, I suppose, the most renowned French explorer of Africa. He did a wonderful journey in 1828 from Konakry, in French Guinea, to Morocco. He travelled down the Niger for many hundred miles on his way to Timbuctu.
After him came the very great African traveller, Barth, whose house is in better preservation than any other. He was the man who travelled from Tripoli, through our British protectorate of Northern Nigeria, to Timbuctu and back, in 1853. Barth spent a considerable time at Timbuctu, disguised as an Arab trader and known by the name of Abdul Karim. He had several narrow escapes, but came successfully out of all his adventures.