The sheikh produced some uncouth ornaments for the front of the head and breast, of gold and silver, with a number of paste and glass imitations of ruby and other precious stones. He thought these real, and asked their value; and, showing him the little bit of yellow metal which gave the glass bead the colour of the topaz, amazed him greatly: the person who gave him these as real will meet with but a sorry reception on his next visit, as what he had thought worth one hundred dollars were probably dear at as many pence.
April 11 and 12.—The ghrazzie, under Boo-Khaloom, remained these two days at Angornou with Barca Gana, the sheikh’s kashella (or general), to collect people for the expedition. Abdallah Bougiel had left Kouka the day before, in the direction of Kanem. This day five of his horsemen, and twenty of his men on foot, redeserted, and passed through Kouka in their way to rejoin Boo-Khaloom. One of the sheikh’s eunuchs, of whom he had six, the only males who were allowed to enter that division of his house where the women resided, came to me on the part of his favourite wife begging for a bead, as she called it, similar to the one she sent for me to look at, adding, that his mistress would give any price for it, for the like was never seen in Bornou. On this curiosity being taken out of a beautiful silk handkerchief, to my surprise I saw one of the glass drops of a chandelier, diamond-shaped, which I suppose had been brought by some of the freed female slaves from Tripoli. “He was not at all astonished,” he said, “at my not having any thing like it: Ah! he was afraid not; it was wonderfully beautiful! His mistress would be very unhappy at the news he would take back.” No glass beads, or such as are brittle, and likely to break, can be sold for any thing: strength in these articles is looked for even more than beauty, and the sterling weight of this crystal drop, added to its clearness, made it invaluable in the eyes of the sultana.
April 13.—I had thought it prudent to send as a present to the sheikh my remaining horse. I had mounted him but once for two months; a sore on his back, from a small size became inflamed, with a deep hole in the middle, surrounded with proud flesh: his blood was in a sad state, and he got thinner and thinner. I hinted, at the same time, that a horse of the country would be very acceptable to me in exchange. The sheikh very handsomely sent me word that I should have as good a one as the country afforded—and a very active powerful little iron-grey was sent me.
Boo-Khaloom, we heard, was to quit Angornou on his expedition on the 14th: the losing this opportunity of both seeing the country and in what manner these people could lead 3000 men into action, for his ghrazzie was to consist of that number, vexed me more than I can express. It was an opportunity, I felt, that was not to be lost: the sheikh’s promised expedition might never take place; it would certainly be in a different direction; and at any rate I knew that with Boo-Khaloom I could follow my own plans, which most likely with the sheikh I could not. In this state of dilemma I determined on applying to the sheikh’s chief karouash, who professed himself greatly my friend, and to offer him fifty dollars if he could obtain the sheikh’s permission. The request instantly opened my eyes as to which quarter the wind of the court blew from. “Could not you make the sheikh,” said he “some pretty present? At the same time he is only afraid of your getting into danger: egal rais khaleel rajal meliah yassur (he says the rais is an excellent person).” I replied, “that was impossible; that we had already given many handsome presents, and had written to England for others; for himself he should have fifty dollars if he succeeded.”—Karouash left me with, I am sure, every wish to succeed in my behalf.
FOOTNOTES:
[22]Gubka, about a yard English.
CHAPTER III.
EXPEDITION TO MANDARA.
It was late in the evening of the 15th April before my mind was made up as to the practicability of accompanying the ghrazzie. I had an interview with the sheikh, when he said, “I must refuse, because I know not how to ensure your safety: still I wish that I could comply with your request. The application by Boo-Khaloom for all your party to go was out of the question; your king could not wish that a mission sent out so far should run such risks—it was an imprudent request, and the bashaw would never have forgiven me if I had complied with it. You are differently situated; your sultan expressly orders you to accompany any military expeditions: but although you are a soldier, you will scarcely know how to take care of yourself, in an expedition of this nature, should Boo-Khaloom meet with a repulse; and on this account alone I cannot sanction your departure.” I replied, “that I could not be otherwise than sensible of the anxiety he evinced for our safety, but that the orders of my sultan must be obeyed if possible: that although he refused his approbation, I trusted he would not prevent my accompanying Boo-Khaloom. Indeed,” added I, smiling, “if that is your intention, I give you notice that the silsel[23] had better be put on—I shall certainly go, for I dare not lose such an opportunity of seeing the country.”
Here ended our conference; and some time after midnight, the negro who was to accompany me to Angornou, where I had previously intended awaiting the arrival of Doctor Oudney, roused me to commence my journey, adding, “We shall scarcely reach Angornou before daylight.” My baggage and necessaries were easily carried by one camel. My sole companion was my own negro Barca, whom I mounted on a mule, with my small canteens under him, containing a scanty supply of coffee: this, and a bag of rice, were all my provisions—and I trusted to Providence for the rest. To join the ghrazzie I was determined; but in what way it was to be accomplished, I was not yet decided. Boo-Khaloom had left Angornou the day before; and it was reported that he would halt one day about thirty-five miles south of that place: the destination of the expedition still remained a secret. Maraymy ben Soudanee, the negro whom the sheikh had appointed to accompany me, was the same that had attended me before in my excursion to the Tchad: he was born a slave in Mohamed el Soudanee’s family, the sheikh’s first cousin, who was now on his way to Mecca. As he took with him but a small retinue, Maraymy and many others were left behind, and served as an askar, or soldier, to the sheikh. His character amongst the sheikh’s people was one of great bravery; his daring manner of approaching the elephants, in our former trip, had not been unobserved by me; and during our present excursion he gave such proofs of gallantry and goodness of heart, at the same time laying me under obligations to him of the most serious kind,—no less, eventually, than the preservation of my life—that he merits every praise that it is in my power to bestow. Maraymy spoke broken Arabic, of which he was not a little proud: I had discovered that taciturnity was not among the number of his failings, and we had not proceeded many miles before he began to gratify his natural propensity with great volubility. For myself I was unusually disinclined to conversation; many circumstances combined to render me dissatisfied with the situation of our affairs. I felt, at the moment, more than ever the want of a companion and friend, in whose head and heart I could place some confidence; and Maraymy’s account of his battles, and hair-breadth escapes from the Kerdies, was almost unnoticed by me.