| Drawn by Captn. Clapperton. | Engraved by E. Finden. |
FISHING BOATS ON THE SHARY.
Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London.
This island is high ground, with steep and nearly perpendicular banks, and a depth of ten feet water close to the edge: the canoes moor up to the shore; the stream runs strong and clear; and the landing is on a fine dry sandy beach: it extends to the Tchad north, a distance of twelve or fifteen miles, and has two handsome streams bounding it, which run north-east and north-west, and by which the Shary takes its way into that immense lake. It abounds with game: and we had fish in abundance, venison, the flesh of a buffalo, and wild ducks, for supper, all roasted on wooden spits.
We pitched our tent on the jutting head, where, a few years ago, stood a negro town: the inhabitants, however, were refractory, committed piracies on the Showy people, and in consequence the sheikh determined on exterminating them. They were in league with the Biddoomah, who were now kept to their own islands. Joggabah we found uninhabited, and covered with jungle and prickly underwood, in that part where we passed the night: we saw thirty porcupines, and killed a centipede and two scorpions under our mats. We had two canoes rowing guard the whole night on account of the Biddoomah. By daylight we re-embarked, and proceeded by the north-west branch for more than two hours, keeping nearly the same direction: we passed several marshy floating islands, covered with rushes, high grass, and papyrus, apparently dividing the water into different streams, when we found ourselves in that sea of fresh water, the Tchad, which we named Lake Waterloo, and into which the Shary empties itself. It was my intention to have proceeded quite round the island to the east, and to have returned by the other branch; but after making about two miles in the open lake, a heavy swell from the north-east caused so much water to come into the canoes, and so much labour to the men, that we gave up that idea. After our return to the south side of the island we followed the north-east branch, and found it vary but little in appearance. During our passage, by keeping the deepest water, and avoiding the convexities of the stream, we, at this season, met with no impediments; and had nowhere less than three feet water. We passed many small islands, all of which, near the mouth, were destitute of trees, but covered with reeds (among which was the papyrus), bamboos, and very tall grasses: the quantity of water-fowl was immense, of great variety, and beautiful plumage. The nearest Biddoomah island is said to be three days voyage on the open lake, from the mouth of the river, in a north-east direction, say ninety miles, during two of which these canoes lose sight of land: with an excellent telescope I could discern nothing but the waste of waters to the north or east. The Biddoomah are a wild and independent people, who carry on a piratical war with all their neighbours: they send out fleets of sixty or one hundred canoes; and they are reported as terrible kaffirs.
We now commenced our return, and a laborious business it was, rowing or paddling against the stream: the paddles were only resorted to when, now and then, a headland sheltered them from the wind and current; and so cautious were the men of Showy, that it was near midnight before we landed on a spot named Buffalo Bank. We had endured two days of burning heat and exposure to the sun, and a night of watchfulness and torture from the insects; added to this, we had lived entirely on Indian corn, boiled in the canoes during the day: we were also constantly ankle deep in water, from the leaking of the canoes. The banks were here, for some miles inland, thickly clothed with handsome trees encompassed by creeping shrubs in full blossom, while large antelopes and buffaloes were starting from the thickets where they had fixed their lairs. We disturbed a flock of several buffaloes on our making the shore; and hippopotami came so close to us as to be struck by the paddles: here, and at the confluence of the two branches, we found the greatest depth of water. The most desirable route for us now to have pursued would have been to have gone from hence to Loggun by water, but Gulphi lay in our way, and it was impossible. To follow the direction of the river, therefore, as nearly as we could, by moving in a line parallel to its banks, became our next anxiety.
Previously, however, we again embarked, and visited a spot called Dugheia, within a day’s journey of Gulphi, higher up the stream. Dugheia is a ford and a ferry, where the sheikh, with all his people, pass the stream on their expeditions against the Begharmis: the ford is in a slanting direction, and between two sinuosities. When the river is at its greatest height, the water reaches up to the neck; it was now not above the arm-pits of a good sized man. The infantry, placing their spears and bags of corn on their heads, in their shields, cross with ease: the cavalry are moved over in canoes, and the horses swam at the sterns. The appearance of the river is similar both above and below Showy: excepting that above there are more picturesque islands; on one of which we passed the night, and named it Red Heron Isle, as my poor friend shot there a bird of that species.
On the 8th of February we returned to Showy, and the day following pursued our route by Willighi and Affadai. Willighi is a walled town of considerable strength; indeed the Begharmis always pass it by on their predatory excursions. The walls are nearly fifty feet high, with watch-towers erected on the salient angles, where there are constant sentinels. The sultan also lives in a sort of citadel with double walls, and three heavy gates in each wall, strongly bound with iron. Borgomanda, the reigning sultan of Begharmi, and Cheromah (which means heir-apparent), send annual presents to Mai Dundelmah, the sultan of Willighi; but he is a hadgi, and holds the sheikh of Bornou in too high estimation to forsake his fortunes. Before arriving at Willighi, which is only a day’s journey from Gulphi, we recrossed the Gurdya, a considerable stream running from the Shary into the great lake.
Feb. 10.—We left Willighi, after presenting the sultan with two knives, two pairs of scissors, a turban, and a red cap, and in about two hours arrived at another ford of the water Maffatai. These fords are known by the natives of the neighbouring towns only, who are always hired as guides. The water was up to the body of the horse; and a weak camel, by encountering the load of another, was thrown off the causeway into twelve or fourteen feet of water. We crossed, this day, three deep marshes, besides the river, which, the Willighi guide informed us, extended to the river, at one of which we were detained nearly an hour before we could venture a passage: the water reached to our saddles. After the rainy season, canoes come from Showy to the neighbourhood of Willighi, for a wood which is here abundant, called by the natives kagam, and another called korna, with which they build their canoes, and make their paddles. The fruit, also, of a species of locust tree, which the natives call kadellaboo, is here gathered. We rested under the shade of a beautiful large tree of this description, bearing a flower of a deep crimson colour; a yellow jessamine, with a delicious odour, was creeping around it, while other delicate aromatic plants grew in wild profusion. Nevertheless, the paths through these woods, though literally strewed with flowers, were nearly impassable from the overhanging branches of thorny shrubs, which not only tore our shirts and cloaks, but were sufficiently strong to drag the loads from the backs of the camels: we were nearly twelve hours in making twenty-two miles. When we arrived at the town of Affadai, our people were too tired to cook the rice we had with us, and the kadi merely sent us flour and water paste, and leban (sour milk): at the same time promising to kill a sheep the next day, if we would stay. We, however, departed early on the following morning, and came, towards evening, to a place called Kala, a wretched nest of huts, although surrounded by a wall, and having strong gates.
On the 12th we moved on, and, after crossing a long and deep marsh, we halted, about noon, for an hour or two, at a town called Alph, which stood on a foundation of earth artificially raised in the midst of a swamp extending for miles in every direction. We shot several cranes; one of a beautiful white, with a yellow beak, and dark hazel eyes, with a yellow rim. We now began to approach Kussery, and again came to the banks of the river Shary, leaving Gulphi to the eastward. This route is but seldom traversed: it is a continued succession of marshes, swamps, and stagnant waters, abounding with useless and rank vegetation: flies, bees, and mosquitos, with immense black toads, vie with each other in a display of their peace-destroying powers.