The weather continued to improve upon us, though the heat increased; and some days the thermometer was at 97° and 98°, but we had fewer mosquitoes, and a clearer atmosphere. Doctor Oudney had been violently attacked, first in his right, and then in his left eye, with an inflammation, which left him no rest by day or night; he, however, within the last two days, got out for an hour in the evening. Mr. Clapperton also, who had been in a state of extreme danger for many days, appeared to have passed the crisis of his attack—cool blood flowed once more in his veins, and consciousness was restored to his mind: he was however emaciated, and in a dreadful state of weakness, and his eyes could scarcely be said to have life or expression in them; he had been supported outside his hut for the last two days, and we began to hope he would recover.
Sep. 28.—During the confinement of Doctor Oudney, I had occasionally seen the sheikh about every seven days; he was always anxious in his inquiries after him, and seemed much surprised that, having such excellent medicines for other people, he should not be able to cure himself: and as this day the doctor seemed to think himself a little better, we went together to the sheikh. Dr. Oudney at once told him that he wished to go to Soudan; and as he had not given me the slightest intimation of this being his intention, I was really as much surprised as the sheikh himself. “What is your object?” said he: “why, the courier has not yet brought the bashaw’s directions.” Doctor Oudney replied, “My wish is to see the country—I cannot live here—I shall die. While travelling, I am always better.”
| From a Sketch by Major Denham. | Engraved by E. Finden. |
HUT AND CARPENTER WORK SHOP.
Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London.
Hillman had been for a long time employed in making a gun-carriage for a four-pounder, which the sultan of Fezzan had formerly brought as a present to the sheikh: the scarcity of iron, the awkwardness of the negro blacksmiths, and clumsiness of their work when finished, were so distressing to the correct eye of an English shipwright, that even after the carriage was completed—and considering the means he had, it was very well done—Hillman was far from being satisfied with his work: not so, however, the sheikh. We took it to him this afternoon, and he was greatly pleased and surprised at the facility with which its elevation could be increased or decreased: both this and the wheels were subjects of great wonder. During the work, on several occasions, the sheikh had sent Hillman presents of honey, milk, rice, wheat, and sweet cakes, all of which he had shared with his companions. On one occasion, after he had finished a large chair, which pleased the sheikh excessively, he sent him a bag of gubbuk (money of the country): this, after inquiring what it was, he returned, with the true and honest pride of an English seaman, saying, “No! the king of England pays me—I don’t want that; but I am much obliged to the sheikh, nevertheless.”
The season seemed now to prove very unhealthy both to the natives and ourselves, and from six to ten bodies were seen carried out daily from the city gates. My poor friend Mai Meegamy was attacked, among the rest, by this dreadfully prevalent complaint, and he sent for me by daylight. I found him in an alarming state of fever, with a fit of the ague on him at the time: after consulting with Doctor Oudney, who was unable to visit him, I gave him a strong dose of emetic tartar, and in two days had the pleasure of seeing him quite recovered. The effect of the emetic tartar was to him a matter of the greatest astonishment: at the first sight of the dose he was unwilling to take it, and asked what a little white powder like that could do for him: he was very shortly, however, convinced, that the quantity I had prescribed was quite sufficient. “What wonderful medicine!” said he: “why, if I had swallowed so much,” taking up a little sand in his hand, “what would have become of me! Wonderful! wonderful! the English know every thing: why are they not Musselmen?”
This day, a large guana and a young crocodile were brought to me by one of the Shouaas: they had been killed on the banks of the Shary, five days distant, and were in pretty good preservation. I proceeded to dry them in the way mentioned by Mr. Burchell; and although this was a matter I had never before had the least experience in, or taste for, yet I became every day more and more interested in the collections and preservations of our specimens of birds and other animals.
The sheikh sent us three birds[37], which had been taken in their nests at Loggun: they are very scarce, and much esteemed, their flesh being used as a medicine for many disorders, placed hot to the part affected, particularly for an enlargement of the spleen. They feed on insects, fish, snakes, and serpents, the latter of which they have a particular instinct of discovering. This bird discovers their vicinity while yet many feet under ground, digs on the spot, destroys the nest, and feeds on the venomous inhabitant and its eggs: although larger than a turkey-cock, they were so young as to be unable to walk; indeed, the feathers were not all perfect, and I determined on endeavouring to rear one of them to more mature age and beauty. I had, indeed, already a little menagerie, which, if I would have allowed it, the sheikh would have added to daily, and I found in them great amusement—I might almost say much comfort. My collection consisted, besides my Loggun bird, of two monkeys, five parrots, a civet cat, a young ichneumon, and a still younger hyæna: they had all become sociable with each other, and with me, and had their separate corners allotted them in the inclosure that surrounded my hut, except the parrots and the monkeys, who were at liberty; and while sitting in the midst of them of a morning, with my mess of rice and milk, I have often cast my thoughts to England, and reflected with deep interest on the singular chances of life by which I was placed in a situation so nearly resembling the adventurous hero of my youthful sympathies, Robinson Crusoe.